An Affinity For Fire

48. Malbaryn

Bryn was sprawled across the floor of his room with one hand pressed to his forehead, the other clutching the rim of his chamber pot, and a faint memory of the words pour me another drink swirling through his mind.

He'd heard people speak of the delayed effects of wine. Ocassans didn't tend to make a habit of consuming copious amounts if intoxicants, so he had never witnessed the full after-effects and had certainly never experienced them first-hand. People talked of dehydration and an adverse reaction to light and sound. No-one, however, had ever warned him of the excruciating headache or the relentless, incapacitating need to expel the contents of his stomach.

His arms had begun to tremble. He couldn't tell if it was the sickness to blame or just the cold Dormisian morning. In any case, he didn't bother to get a blanket. The thought of standing up, even to walk only so far as the bed, made him want to retch even more than he already did and he doubted his body could manage being emptied any further.

Perhaps this is the Fates' way of punishing people for irrational, indulgent behaviour, he thought. If so, it seems a little excessive...

As he lay in exhaustion, he heard a cautious knock on the door.

"I don't care who you are, you can leave me alone," he moaned, not lifting his head from the floor.

The door creaked open slowly. Lord Dallas Akari poked his head through.

"What part of 'I don't care who you are' made you think you were an exception?"

Dallas flashed him an apologetic smile, stepping in and quietly closing the door behind himself. "I just wanted to make sure you were still alive."

"Surely, after I spoke, you could figure out that much from outside the room," Bryn said.

"Well, even so," Dallas said, "I thought I'd better check on you. You weren't in the best shape last night."

"I can't have been any worse than I am now," he murmured. "Why do people ever drink?"

Dallas laughed, a response which irritated Bryn.

"So, what happened?"

The young man chewed his thumbnail, hesitant. "What do you remember happening?"

Bryn squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There was a fire, and then there was... wine."

Dallas laughed again. "Well, you're not wrong. Come on, let's get you off the floor." He scooped his arms under Bryn's armpits and hauled him off the ground and onto his bed in such an abrupt and jarring manner that he almost heaved again.

Something about the motion spurred a vague glimpse of familiarity. He's done that before... Bryn thought, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories.

"So... last night. I didn't get back here alone, did I?"

"No," Dallas answered.

"Right." He sighed, annoyed but not surprised. "But we didn't..." He waved a hand in insinuation. "We didn't do anything. Right?"

Dallas sat back, looking offended that he'd even asked. "Oh, Mausshykae maella, no."

Relieved as he was, Bryn glowered at Dallas. "How flattering it is to know that the very thought of it repulses you."

"Bryn, come on. By the time we got here, you were about two minutes from passing out. Besides," he smirked, "Even if you'd miraculously managed to stay awake, you wouldn't have remembered a thing. And I pride myself in being unforgettable." He even had the audacity to wink.