Ashkevron Residence in AskaviAs an early riser, she awoke before the sun. Bleary-eyed from staying up too late the night before, she sat up and brushed messy curls back from her face. A yawn wracked her body, forcing her mouth wide open and her arms into the air to work kinks out of her back. The excitement of last night left her feeling a bit bruised, physically speaking. Shaking and fear and happiness. It had been a tumultuous evening.
The young queen busied herself with washing her face, combing her hair and dressing up from clothes she had stored away. Crafting them into existence, the simple woolen dress made by her people stopped at mid-thigh. Woolen leggings covered her legs and her usual leather boots kept her feet warm and away from the stone floors.
Fatima wandered down to the kitchen and after some rummaging was able to begin making a delicious pot of coffee. She made sure to make it large as there were likely others who would enjoy the brew. As the sun peeked through the windows she searched the kitchen and came up with some bacon, eggs, and the ingredients for pancakes. The tiny woman set about preparing a large breakfast for the eyrie. If the men who lived here, and Lucivar, were anything like her old court they would have a healthy appetite. And she enjoyed the old skill of cooking. She hummed an old tune her mother taught her, sipping her black coffee and setting out plates.
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