*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

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Alfric followed Anne out of the room. She lead him down a short corridor, and then up a brief set of stairs, which creaked beneath his weight, and into a small dim room. It was a little dusty but the bed was protected by a patterned blanket, and a small fire was lit in the hearth. She threw back the blanket, stirring the dust and causing Alfric to sneeze - Then folded it roughly and held it beneath her arm as she scurried around like a mouse, lighting candles, stoking the fire, and making the room seem generally cosier.
(Hope you don't mind me writing about Anne.)
 
When she was done she turned to Alfric and dipped her head. "Hope it's all to your likin' Sir. If you'll give me a moment I'll fetch yer water fer ye." Glancing quickly up at him, she slipped passed him and back down the stairs, as silent as a shadow.

Alfric stood to admire the room for a moment. Not the grandest room he had seen, for certain, but better than the Edinburgh Barracks. He drifted towards the bed and took a seat on the edge, watching the fire crackling quietly away in the stone hearth. The glow from it was pleasant, and sent the cold shivering from his body.
 
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When Anne reappeared in the doorway she was struggling with a large bucket of water. She waddled awkwardly to the wooden bath next to the fire and tipped the water into it. Wiping her brow, she scurried off again.
Alfric looked at the wooden tub, water sloshing around in the bottom. It didn't look particularly inviting, but it would do.
 
Anne returned again a few moments later, slugging another bucket of water. She looked exhausted, her straw-blonde hair plastered to her reddened forehead with sweat. Alfric reached forward to take the bucket from her, but she ignored his gesture, emptying the water into the tub with a swift swing of the bucket.
"That should be enough." She wheezed, pushing the hair back from her eyes.
She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, then reluctantly scooted off to collect fresh wood for the fire.
While she was gone Alfric began untying his boots. The clothes which had been gifted to him by (forgothisname) were no more than dirty rags now, and it was a great relief to be rid of them.
 
He was just pulling off his second sock when Anne came in with the wood. She dumped it on the hearth, tossed a couple of logs on the fire, poked at it a little, then brushed herself down and turned to Alfric.
"Fresh clothes are on the chair, put those out in the hall after. Looks like they need a good bath too, better t' leave em on if you ask me." When she laughed she sounded like a kettle coming to the boil, her teeth were wonky and unappealing, but Alfric couldn't help but smile a little.
"Thank you." He said.
She bowed her head slightly, then left, pulling the door shut behind her.
 
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