Fiona reached the bottom step of the staircase before she realised that she had left her glasses in the bedroom. 

Pushing a few strands of her hair away from her eyes, she looked around, missing the unpleasant feeling that usually followed her every attempt to force her eyes to focus without the help of the lenses. It was probably because of the weaker, flickering light this world was flooded with that didn't force her eyes to see too many details. Whatever it was, she decided that she could see well enough to make a bread dough without running back upstairs to retrieve them.

The fire in the fireplace had burned low, and the main room was empty, but the sounds coming from the kitchen led her safely to her destination. Annwyn was still there, alone this time, bustling around in what looked like preparations of the provisions for their journey. 

"Hi," Fiona said from the door. "I couldn't sleep and wondered if I could help?" 

She collected a few apples from a wooden barrel set by the door and carried them to the table laden with linen bags filled with crackers and biscuits, cheese wheels, and strips of dried meat.

"Vitamins." Fiona shrugged as she noticed Annwyn smiling at her choice when she set the apples down, not sure the half dragon would be familiar with the term. "And I'd like to make some bread too. If you have some sourdough left from your last baking, the dough will have enough time to raise until morning. It only takes ten minutes to bake a focaccia, an Italian flatbread sprinkled with salt, oil, and herbs, which can be eaten without anything else. It's tasty on its own, great for a journey as it keeps fresh for..."

"Here," Annwyn interrupted her, spinning around, reaching for an earthenware bowl covered with a piece of cloth. 

Fiona brought it to her nose, recognising the familiar scent of a bread dough in an instant. 

"Take as much as you need and put the rest on the mantelpiece," Annwyn said, smiling gratefully. "You are a gods' send, Fiona. There's so much to do... " she muttered, looking around distractedly. "The flour is there." She pointed to several brown sacks sitting on a low shelf in the distant corner of the room. "I have different kinds, just suit yourself. Once the dough is ready, put it in that pot on the heart. I'll bank the fire for the night, but it will remain warm enough for the bread. Thank you, Fiona. I really appreciate this," she added, her eyes scanning the food laid on the table before she walked to the barrel by the door and brought some more apples to the lot, making Fiona smile.

"I thank you, Annwyn," she replied, setting the dough down on the free edge of the large table before grabbing a bowl from a shelf on her way to the flour sacks. "I just needed to do something familiar tonight," she added, opting for the coarsest wholemeal flour, a rarity in her world. On second thought, she took a jar of sunflower seeds off a shelf to mix in her dough to enrich her bread. If they had sunflowers, then they should have tomatoes, pumpkins, and corn too; she frowned in thought, puzzled by her new world. Leodhais mentioned tribes coming from the North Sea the first night they met, tribes sounding like the Vikings to Fiona. Apparently, there were some similarities in the two worlds' history as well as geography, and just like the people of her world in the past, the people of Silmarea had done some exploration...

"I can't imagine how this must feel," Annwyn said, scattering her thoughts. "Learning that you are a princess of a world you didn't know existed, a descendant of half gods who has magic that hadn't manifested yet, a mother of a Highlander, and on top of all this, being... almost kidnapped by three strange men..."

Fiona laughed at her wide-eyed look laced with admiration. Peregrine apparently had found a moment to speak with his sister. She wondered what else had he told her...

"I don't deserve that admiration, Annwyn," she said, letting her eyes drop to the dough she was kneading. It was almost ready. "I didn't do any of it. I didn't have a choice, really. I just... accepted the lesser evil of what the destiny threw my way. It was far too dangerous to remain in London with Freddie unprotected knowing what Peregrine told me."

His voice coming from somewhere behind her made her jump and sprinkle the flour meant for her ball of dough, ready for its night long rest, all around the bowl.

"You did the right thing, Bella," he said, peeling himself from the shadows shrouding the doorway even as she looked around, wiping her hands in a damp tea towel Annwyn had passed her.

Her breath caught as he approached, his eyes cast at the dough in the bowl, a smile playing on his lips.

"Let me just put the dough away, and I'll leave you alone," Annwyn said, giggling, covering the bowl with a cloth and carrying it to the hearth. "I should go upstairs before Leodhais comes looking for me."

"Should he ask about his friend, tell him that Gilderoy made up his mind and is sleeping peacefully. He'll talk to Leodhais tomorrow."

"Thank you," Annwyn said, wrapping her arms around her brother's waist and pulling him to her briefly. "And thank you for your help, Fiona," she continued, repeating the gesture by wrapping her arm over the shorter woman's shoulders. "Good night."

"Please wake me before you come down tomorrow," Fiona pleaded, turning to the half dragon who was already out the door. "I want to bake the bread."

"As you wish," Annwyn's reply reached her from the stairs, then she was gone.

"Botheration..." Fiona muttered, remembering only now all the things she had meant to ask her.

"What's wrong?" Peregrine asked, pulling her flush against him now that they were alone. 

The long, incredibly thin and smooth dress made of a stretchy, moss green cotton flattering the cloud of ginger curls hovering around her face hid nothing from his perceptive eyes. The fabric stretched excellently around her enticingly full and soft curves, he mused, pressing his large palm to the small of her back, forbidding it to slip lower, just like he forbade his eyes to stray to her chest. By the old gods, she was such a challenge... He let his eyes pour into hers instead, those mesmerising orbs looking so much bluer without the filter of her glasses.

Without any warning, unable to help himself, he lifted her and sat her on the table, relishing the way her heart skipped a beat and her legs spread unconsciously and rested at his sides, banishing the long dress to her mid-thigh even as the fluffy white slippers dropped off her feet, to allow him to approach and wrap her in an embrace, her head pressed against his chest as she breathed him in, balling her hands in fists around the fabric of his shirt to keep him close. Goodness, she was perfect. And unresistable. 

Inhaling deeply, he rested his forehead on the top of her head. 

"Bella... This is hardly the place..."

"...or the time," she finished for him. "We need to rest before the journey," she said, trying to conceal her joy and excitement. She wasn't the only one inflicted by this attraction; he seemed to be willing to take things farther just as much as she was.

"Why are you down here anyway?" he asked, lifting her off the high table easily and setting her on her feet even as he nudged her slippers with the tip of his shoe in her toes' easy reach. "You must be exhausted after the journey."

"I couldn't sleep, and I wanted to talk to Annwyn," she muttered on a sigh, recalling all the things she had meant to ask as they reached the staircase.

"I wanted to talk to her too," Peregrine said. "About her infatuation with Leodhais in the first place. And I wanted to ask her if she remembered to tell you about the shower. I made it myself, bringing the idea, and a shower head, from your world. It's just a bag filled with water, really, like what your people use in campers. But it's better than the basin and the ewer and the wooden tubs the rest of Silmarea uses. It's at the end of the corridor behind the kitchen, complete with a toilet. There's a small stream running under that part of the house," he explained, shrugging.

They walked slowly and silently, holding hands, down the gloomy corridor, until they reached the door of her room and he pushed her against the wall, cupping her face and kissing her deeply, sighing with contentment at feeling her body becoming boneless and inviting under his touch.

"Good night, Bella," he whispered after a long while, opening her door for her. 

She entered the room lit by the only, almost burnt out candle speechless, only to exit it again in less than fifteen minutes, a bottle of her herbal shampoo in hand and a towel under her arm. She wasn't going to fall asleep without washing her hair now that she knew about the shower.