Eostre [#Wattys2016]

A Mutual Agreement.

"Mmmm", I sighed further into the bathtub, relishing the feeling of burning the grit from my body, the feeling oddly similar to how it felt to jump into that freezing pool. My comfort was often interrupted by the violent protestations of my wounds, unfortunately.

Directly after Magnusson left me to my own devices, I shamelessly rummaged through his bathroom, finding a secluded cabinet and stumbled upon a stash of luxurious bathroom lotions and potions, among them, a massive bottle of bubblebath.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees...

As I dropped the contents of the bottle into the warm, running water, I had desperately tried to locate a body wash that wasn't a male, testosterone stool sample that promised to turn you into a silver-back with the allure of leopard. Eventually, I was defeated and wondered how on earth he didn't have at least one female product, knowing his reputation. My devious adventure brought a small smile to my lips, until it morphed into a full-blown grin as I watched the bubbles froth at the side of the bath tub.

I had carefully removed the burnt, blood-stained material from my body, slightly more disgusted as each garment was removed, the smell and sight of them reviling me. I slowly and tenderly slipped into the bath, wincing as each bit of flesh both tightened and relaxed at the change in temperature.

As I settled into the bath, my mind going hazy as sleep found itself overwhelming, I recapped the events of the past two days. The thoughts had tears pooling in my eyes. So many people had been hurt, people I had inadvertently hurt, perhaps even killed. That thought turned my stomach over violently but another had me almost emptying its contents altogether; only one person was guaranteed to have survived that fire. The cloaked figure.

She had promised to make it out of that castle and strangely I believed her. I believed her when she said she had work to do and that scared me more than anything. She wasn't finished yet.

Her last words were still reeling in my mind, "You are cursed, Child."

What the hell did that even mean? I had been aware of practicing warlocks and witches, specifically in Britain but I had never imagined them to be so bold. Most witches I knew of kept to themselves, preferring the company of nature to humans. I had never met anyone even aware of curses let alone with the ability to administer them.

To most, witches and wizards were fairytales, folktales told to get your children to eat their vegetables. Then again, less than 250 years ago that was believed to be case with werewolves. I've learnt to take things with a pinch of salt with the life I've had so far. Never to be cynical but always sceptical.

As I assessed the events up to the fire and the reaction of our captors, it almost seemed as if they had anticipated my every move, knowing that I would escape, wanting me to escape.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, deciding that was an issue for another day, I rested my head against the bathtub and allowed sleep to take over me.

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Opening my eyes, I moved my legs, arms, wiggled my eyebrows, checking they all still worked. A shiver flowed through my body alerting me to the fact that my bath was now cold and the bubbles were all virtually gone. Standing up, I placed my foot on the cold marble floor before placing the other. As my other leg lifted from the water, my foot slipped, causing my body to crash very ungracefully to the floor. Pain shot up my spine as the impact of the collision racked up my back, causing blood to run from the wound on the left side of my hip. I hadn't seen what was on my back nor the extent of the damage, so I decided it was time to find out as I walked awkwardly to the mirror.