The Guard at the Window (Laurance x Reader)

ii. The Journey Through the Woods

Here, in this singular room, was all the evidence of a life lived. There in the room you stood was evidence of countless journeys and experiences worth the risk of living a thousand times over.

You hadn't even noticed that a gentleman had come out of a back room, or that Laurance had approached him. You were busy admiring a collection of handmade figurines and dolls, ranging from carved wooden soldiers to delicately sewn rag dolls with their yarn hair in pigtails and colored buttons for eyes.

It wasn't until Laurance brushed his hand against your shoulder that you were drawn out of your wonder struck stupor and turned to him. He held a key up to you, saying something you didn't quite catch before he turned. You assumed he wanted you to follow, so you did.

You followed him up a spiral staircase. Nearly every step creaked beneath the weight of your figures, and the space between them was steeper than you would have liked, but you were grateful that you had come across a place to stay before it got too dark outside.

The room Laurance had purchased was a small one, enough for a bed and a dresser and space for another person or two to sleep on the floor if they so wished, though you couldn't imagine they would do so comfortably. A door made from unpolished wood led to what you assumed was a bathroom.

Your hair was slowly unwinding itself from the loops around your arms when Laurance said, "I'll sleep on the floor."

You turned to look up at him. "Are you sure? I feel bad taking the bed."

Laurance nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't be a very good man if I let a lady such as yourself sleep anywhere except a bed. Besides, I've slept in worse places."

You softly nodded, although the air was thicker now. You couldn't figure out what it was, but you awkwardly stepped further into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. It was soft, much softer than your own, and the blankets were fuzzy and warm. You began unwrapping your hair from your body as Laurance removed his items. First his bag and then his scabbard. He placed both things by the door.

When the final tendrils of your hair fell to the floor, you began picking any stray leaves and twigs out of it. You left the trash in a neat pile on the dresser to throw away the following morning, and when the silence got too loud for your liking you said, "So what are your plans for tomorrow?"

Laurance had been mindlessly watching you pick the leaves and twigs from your hair, but once he heard your words his gaze flicked to yours. The warm candle flame flickered in his light irises, telling you what ice held up to the sun must have looked like.

"I'm gonna ask if Kruger has a map of these woods," he said. You weren't sure who Kruger was, but you assumed it was the man who gave Laurance the room key. "If he doesn't, then I'll ask where we are in relation to the closest village. I'll be able to find my companions from there."

You softly nodded, and the thick blanket of silence enveloped the two of you again. You weren't sure what else to say. Was there even something else to say?

By he time you finished picking the trash from your hair, Laurance had already laid on the floor. His eyes were closed but he wasn't asleep. You still moved quietly, the blankets on the bed rustling as you covered yourself with them before blowing out the candle on the dresser with a soft breath.

When you closed your eyes, you found that sleep would not come easily. Now that you were in a dark and silent room, you felt as though your mother's presence was watching you more intently. You could almost feel her hands wrapping around your shoulders, pressing so hard you might have toppled over if you had been standing.

You don't think it would have surprised you to find out the entire day had been a dream when you woke up. You would find yourself back beneath the wilting wisteria around your bed and stretch before finding your mother to tell her of your strange dream.