#(she and Linast would be 🤝 about the the cleithrophobia with closed doors/rooms)

[justassorted]

“Tesni,” Ithadel repeated gratefully. His ashen complexion and the right arm still curled guardedly near his torso wouldn’t make Megan’s once-over particularly reassuring, despite his straightened posture, but he was now directing a worried frown of his own towards Tesni and didn’t notice her continued suspicion. “Y-yes. Of course. The fire will help. Thank you.”

Ithadel hadn’t seen much point in putting on the socks until he’d dried off at least a bit, but he carried them with him now as he finally moved to retrieve some of the towels. He hissed with quiet frustration as he dropped both them and a towel on his first attempt to pick anything up. His left hand was still clumsy with cold even as his skin began to prickle back to life in the heat of the room, and the right was very nearly unresponsive when he braved the pain of trying to use it. 

“I — I forgot as well. I… well, I suppose we did have, ah… other concerns,” Ithadel said in a thin, distracted voice, finally getting the towels draped over one shivering shoulder in a temporary carrying position. He retrieved the dropped socks and made his way to Tesni, his return smile apologetic and wan. “My name is Ithadel. I just moved here.”

The poor girl was shaking. Whether from cold, pain, or the aftermath of stress Ithadel didn’t know, but it was clear she was distressed and this situation was his fault. His voice softened. “I’m — truly very sorry about this, Tesni. I should have…” Ithadel faltered, shaking his head. 

He hardly knew where to begin; his regrets were an exhausted, wordless jumble. 

But ‘should’ wasn’t helpful just now and Tesni was leaning on the wall as if she needed its support. Ithadel hesitantly offered his good arm, nodding towards the hearth. “Regardless. Do... do you need any help?”

Swept up in the storm’s abrupt arrival and the need to bring the shivering man to safety, Tesni didn’t fully process the fact she’d gone inside as well until the door had shut behind them and Megan had given her a pair of socks. Ah. She hadn’t meant to stay. She had only meant to bring him to the doorstep.

A chill went through the selkie as she tried to pull on the socks. Meredith had knitted them herself, she knew, and charmed them to spread warmth through the body when worn. Her hands ached distantly. I’m not trapped, she reminded herself. This is a nice place, with good people. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, and Megan’s voice grew muffled beneath it. Tesni swallowed the lump in her throat and gazed through the narrow window in the door, toward the sliver of sea visible through the stormy gloom.

The sea. Home. She wanted to go home.

“Tesni. Her name’s Tesni.”

The sound of Megan saying her name reached Tesni. She shook her head, jostling the muddled haze from her mind, and blinked at Megan. “What?”

Megan’s brow furrowed with worry. She opened her mouth, closed it, then took a breath. “I’ll fetch the first aid,” she repeated at last. “Use the socks to apply pressure to your hands for now, to stop the bleeding.” Then, to both of them: “You’ll dry off faster by the hearth. Blankets are over there as well.”

With one last nod toward the hearth to emphasize her words — and one last uncertain glance at Ithadel, as though still searching him for wounds — Megan hurried up the spiral staircase and vanished onto the second floor. Muted footsteps thumped above them.

Tesni sighed and leaned back against the wall for support. Crimson slowly seeped through the socks balled in her shaky hands. She wasn’t trapped. This was fine. She gave Ithadel a tentative smile. “I’m sorry, I— I forgot to ask sooner… what’s your name?”