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When Astrid awoke she was pleasantly surprised to find she was surrounded by warmth, engulfed in layers of thick blankets, nestled up against duck-feather pillows whilst the roaring ambers in the fireplace casted a light across the room.
Soft fingers were laced with hers, clutching her hand rather tightly as Astrid tried to sit up. Squinting, she regained focus, eyes catching sight of the head of golden curls beside her, before gentle, blue eyes met her own.
Despite the soothing smile that graced her lips, Rebekah appeared worn out, heavy bags residing under her puffy eyes.
Fingers still interlaced with Astrid's, Rebekah gently eased Astrid into a sitting position, using her free hand to fluff the pillows. "Hey, careful now." Rebekah leaned forwards as Astrid shook her head.
Her hand dropped to her side, her chocolate curls tumbling down her back in soft waves. "Nik- Where's Nik?" She found herself saying.
Rebekah's smile faded as Astrid's eyes darted to the large bowl of pink water sat on the bedside table. A crimson stained cloth was floating in the water, causing red ripples.
Her face no longer felt sticky or damp, nor did it feel as if she was crusted with dried blood. It appeared Rebekah had cleaned her up, so she was no longer wearing her dinner.
"Don't worry about that right now, Elijah's keeping him out. We need to catch up, you've missed... A lot." Rebekah was treading softly as Astrid raised a brow.
"A lot? How long has it been?"
Surely Nik hadn't left her for too long in that box. She had heard him in the darkness, she had unwillingly listened to his woes and worries, if he had missed her that much, if he loved her as much as he had claimed, surely he wouldn't have daggered her for long.
'If he loved you at all he wouldn't have daggered you'she thought sadly to herself.
Rebekah hesitated.
"Three-hundred and twenty-eight years."
She expected Astrid to cry, or to shout, or to get angry; to do something. However, instead she was quiet, as if numb to the information she'd just been informed as she nodded.
A bitter laugh left her lip as she shook her head. "Three-hundred and twenty-eight years."
She'd been left in that coffin to rot for three-hundred and twenty-eight years, left for one hundred-and-nineteen- seven hundred and twenty-eight thousand days.
Swallowing, Rebekah was unsure of how to console her friend, taking her warm hand in her own. "How about I catch you up?"
"That would be helpful. I suppose I've missed a lot." Astrid replied quietly, tone void of the cheeky flirtation it usually held.
