He wakes, bewildered ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

It's still dark in Urquhart's room when he leads them there. He's just come back from Sto Kerrig with Moist, after all ( Read more... )

[[from here]]

The next morning, Urquhart awakes to fine bed-linen and the unique shade of cool bright light that promises a sunny, snowy day outside.

He lifts his head, pulling his long blond hair free from the pillow where it had remained as it was, tangled from last night, while he'd been sleeping.

Urquhart is laughing as he opens the door to his room. It's dark outside, and there are lamps in the windows, lights reflected in the shallow pool ( Read more... )

Urquhart hadn't died in Cologne. Oh, of course he hadn't died in Cologne. He'd done his work as always, he'd taken his money, and one day, he'd decided to go home with his friends ( Read more... )

[[from hereUrquhart's room is a little more utilitarian today, as he's got a trestle table put up, and a large project on it: many dozens of demon bunny hides, finely cured, are laid out to be put together into a large black-and-red fur blanket with an interesting pattern ( Read more... )

[[from hereHe holds the door open for the pretty fae in the dress from his time ( Read more... )

Urquhart leads the way upstairs, to his room, and opens the door.

There are books stacked beside the divan now, and a long table with bowls and knives and fruit in basket.

"Bath first, or cooking first?"

When Urquhart opens the door, there is little light in his room; moonlight seeps in through the latticed windows, and glitters on the long, shallow pool that is right by the window ( Read more... )