Aleksandra slept through the night, having the strangest drug-induced dreams. She believed she ate a two-inch-tall Aulfr at one point. He didn't taste very good. And then she was very badly sword-fighting the Oberjarl from the back of a blue camel. She lopped off his head and there was Tiny Aulfr, reprimanding her for being so magnificent. She was stealing all his glory, he told her.

She woke gratefully, determined to never have dreams like that again. She let herself adjust to the light in the room as she came to lucidity. As she woke, sensations came back to her. There was no more blessed numbness in her limbs. No, she felt every ache and injury with extreme clarity. She let out a growl as she shifted, hissing when Aulfr's arm locked tighter around her ribs. Of course he was holding her. He had to be holding her [i]now[/i], of all times.

She wouldn't be able to break his hold unless he woke up, so she did her best to make things less painful. She carefully shimmied up, pushing his arm until it was draped across her hips instead of her middle. She breathed in as deeply as she could and finally relaxed into the pillows, letting herself hold him back.

She wondered what ridiculous things she'd told him now. Unlike when she'd been drunk, she couldn't recall a single detail of what had happened the night prior. She supposed painkillers and alcohol weren't much different, so she'd probably just cuddled into him and giggled some nonsense about how strong he was. Nothing too embarrassing. At worst, she might have tried to tug his shirt off. She'd done that to a female companion of hers the last time she'd really gotten drunk. Thank the Saints it hadn't been a man. Her friend had just laughed it off and put her to bed.