Wrapped in a trailing blue robe of silk, Polgara moved around her apartment with a soft, pleased smile on her face. She moved into her spotless kitchen and set the water to boil for a nice cup of tea and considered slipping down to another apartment for the night . . .

The day had completely worn Pol out and she had been falling asleep on one of the benches by the fire when Sara came up behind her and slipped her arms around him. By the time they finally stumbled into Polgara's apartment, kissing and clutching at each other's clothes, she was fully awake again.

After a day of working in her bakery, Polgara still had the energy and inclination to cook. Of course, it was slightly different when she was cooking for the woman she loved. So she was almost floating around her kitchen, looking forward to their evening.

The sleep and lack of worry had done it. Polgara woke in a cold sweat, a most unpleasant sticky state to be in, but it meant that her fever had broken during the night ( Read more... )

Polgara had left work with an apology to Nathan, complaining of an upset stomach. That had turned into full-out stomach-twisting pain and a fever in short order, and now she was curled up in her bed around a cooling hot water bottle. She drifted in and out of lucidity in her Rivan chamber.

Polgara woke up late in the day, wondering when her ultramodern apartment had gotten so drafty. Then she remembered what she had done and smiled. Then she remembered what she and Sara had done and her smile grew even wider ( Read more... )

Polgara had been feeling restless all day. She paced her apartment, picking things up and setting them down again. She couldn't settle. The walls chafed her. She finally halted herself in the centre of the room, taking a deep soothing breath. She had to do something to calm herself down. So she closed her eyes and thought of the one place that had ( Read more... )

Polgara was pacing her apartment. If one were to look closely, or perhaps at the right angle - rather like one of those holographic cards - one would see the form of a snowy owl perched nonchalantly on the television, watching the sorceress pace.

( Pol talks to dead people. Again. )

Polgara hadn't seen Sara since Saturday night at the club. She had told herself to give the other woman time. Maybe there had been some kind of emergency, something had come up. She worked hard, Polgara knew that ( Read more... )

Polgara was curled into a little ball on her sofa under a heavy throw, a box of tissues at hand. She was desperately trying to convince herself that she wasn't really feeling this upset, that she had distanced herself from the world before and could do it again if she had to. That the fact that he was gone shouldn't make her cry ( Read more... )