Every part of her body seemed to ache in a way that it never had before. She'd had many falls and injuries as a little girl growing up on the countryside, but this was worse than all those trips or scrapes she'd ever endured and then some. There had even been a time once when she'd been five years old that she had fallen off a swing when another kid at the playground had pushed her much too hard and mush too high. She'd nearly broken her arm that day, and she could remember being rushed to the school nurse only to have her worried parents come to the school and take her away to the Willowhaven hospital where they'd out her in a sling so that she didn't hurt it more than her arm already was. She'd been lucky that a bone hadn't been broken that day or that she hadn't hit her head on the immensely packed gravel. Then, there had been a time one day when she'd been playing along the bank of a river out in the pasture that belonged to her parents. It had rained earlier that day and so the pebbled shore was slick and clearly too dangerous for a little girl to be skipping along in search for pretty stones that she had taken to collecting back then. As fate would have it, she'd stepped on a particularly slick rock covered in Moss and she'd lost her footing. The river was neither fast flowing nor was it deep, but perhaps if it had at least been a little deeper than it had been she might not have fallen onto her side and gained q few nasty bruises and cuts from the fall with the water to somewhat break her uncontrollable descent. No one had been around that day and so she had picked herself up and limps home with salty tears streaking her cheeks as she crossed that ten acre field and through the front entrance of her home. It had been her father that was the first to come rushing into the entryway, seeing the little blonde girl's shirt and jeans torn and covered with blood as well as mud and pieces of grass but her mother had been almost right on her father's heels. They'd both given young Beylani a quick once over to ensure that nothing had been broken and tended to those cuts and bruises.

In all those years, despite the innumerable times she had proven to be less than graceful and ended up with wounds to remind her of those mistakes she would be wise to learn from, none of those moments had been anywhere near as painful as what she'd experienced just hours ago, and even then there was still a pain that electrified her when she dared to try and stir in the smallest of ways. Well, what do you expect? You did almost die... and if not for him you would have. As she lay there waiting from the consequence of her movement to fade away, her vision begins to focus until at last she no longer felt as though she were trapped in a haze. She is able to turn her head in that soft pillow to face the dark fae man again, blonde locks accented with milk chocolate undertones still holding what was left of those elegant loose curls she always fashioned them in clumped together where her blood had trickled onto them and of all things to feel first aside from the quiet relief that she was more or less in one piece (for now) is a tinge of guilt knowing that she had likely stained it. She doesn't have long to feel much else as those tired baby blues meet those piercing hazels while Andras crosses one leg over the other, those chiseled features betraying nothing as they wore a calm appearance to them. He speaks in response to her words which are not met but the usual wicked grin she was so used to seeing upon his lips but instead he remains with that cool expression, normally silken smooth tenor tones rough and a clear indication that he really had stayed up all night watching her. Almost instantly she feels a sheepish guilt prick at her heart and though his words are level, she knows well enough how to read between the metaphorical lines. The tone that was in his voice, the posture his body held, the way those strong fingers that she had remembered holding her own so gently nw drumming against the arm of the chair in which he sat... His expression and his voice may not show it, but Beylani was no stranger to such a disposotion, having seen it in her own parents when they intended to scold her for doing something she shouldn't have. She almost wants to sink back into those sheets, but she refrains and instead she is rendered silent, unsure of just how to explain herself to the man who had saved her life.

She stirs and he is quick to see the pained expression and his baritones usher into the room that is silent save from the cracking of the fire that burns warmly in the fireplace. His words are spoken sternly and causes her to become still, baby blue eyes locked into his own as she hears that note of impatience in those tenor tones. He is up in moments and she suddenly finds her gaze drawn to the rippling muscles of his defined chest and torso, his abdomen chiseled to highlight everything under his sun-kissed skin covered in dried blood, whether most of it was her own or her attacker's she does not known nor did she truly want to. Her heart quickens and she is finally able to tear her gaze away from his muscled and chest, returning to those hazel eyes that never wavered from her. She can feel her heart quicken in against her breast as he reaches out to her, gently brushing those blooded locks aside to examine her wounds. He mutters quietly to himself and yet the sound of her heart now beating in her eardrums for whatever reason do not allow her the ability to hear exactly what it was he'd said, but then he speaks again and this time his hazel gaze removes itself from her wounds and to those baby blues. She is silent for a moment, trying to choose those next words carefully in some hope to perhaps make him see that it hadn't entirely been intentional."I... Well, it wasn't that I was wandering around really. I mean, I thought it would have been easier to find The Witchery by walking instead of driving through crowded streets... I hadn't meant to stay at the Halloween party so long, but then I met a couple nice people....", she tries to explain yet not even she is able to convince herself that what had happened wasn't any fault of her own. She feels frozen beneath those piercing eyes of his and as he continues on, she can feel something else in the words of his. Anger. No, it was almost like fury and yet she does not shrink away, guilt beginning to spread through her as she hears something more beneath those hard baritones. She cannot grasp just what it was, but she was not afraid and instead new entirely too well that she deserved every word. She'd endangered herself, and in her mind she had endangered Andras. Then to think that he had carried her to wherever it was that they were... to see the exhaustion flickering beneath the anger that burned in the depths of his gaze... She couldn't help but feel sheepish, like a child who had run off without telling anyone and nearly ending up in a much more dangerous situation.

He steps away from the bed now, as if to distance himself from the young woman perhaps out of some fear that he would only grow more angry with how she'd been so foolish. And that was exactly how she felt; foolish and guilty. That guilt only grows when he speaks of how tired he was, and she can even see it in those gliding steps of his that he was indeed drained - all because of her. Then, at his next string of words a woman enters into the room and there is a warmth that the blue-eyed blonde can almost feel as she moves over to the bedside, sitting there on that edge as Andras introduces the two. Ida. The name seemed to suit her well Beylani thought. Her gaze wanders back to Andras' and she can see the warning look he gives her before vanishing before she had the chance to apologize or at least wish him a decent rest. Her attention turns to Ida now who so reminded her a great deal of her own late grandma as she speaks brightly to the young woman that offers the older fae woman a weak smile as she is uncovered and again those wounds are inspected before Ida helps been into a sitting position now, a shooting pain racing through Beylani and causing her to wince slightly though she continued to force herself to sit up in that large bed as she listens to Ida saying not to mind Andras' less than normal disposition."I didn't mean to cause him to worry. I didn't think that... Well, I guess I simply wasn't thinking", she sighs as a small frown flickers across her blush-colored lips. She listens intently, surprise clesrly etched into those baby blues as Ida refers to Andras as "High Lord" and she wonders now if that was how the dark fae man knew the gentle and bright Dorian... She is quiet though as Ida helps her walk the distance of the room and into what she could only assume as the master bathroom. Baby blues grow wide with wonder at the breathtaking marble and tile, looking around the extravagant bathroom until Ida stops her before a pool bath, something she'd never experienced before. The older fae woman begins to remove the Tinkerbelle costume that the young woman had almost entirely forgotten about, and she listens as she speaks of the scent as that belonging to the undead, which she knew too well now to mean vampire.

Ida comments on the costume as she removes it entirely from Beylani's slender frame and it coaxed a small smile to those lips of the young woman as she allows the fae woman to help her into the pool bath and breaths a sigh of relief as she sinks into the warm water. Just what the doctor ordered. Unexpectedly, she feels the fae woman beginning to manage a sweet smelling shampoo into her hair and again the blue-eyed blonde is taken back to her younger days when her grandmother would bathe her in that old porcelain bathtub and tell her stories. Everything about the woman made her miss her grandmother and yet in the same moment she is entirely at ease as she lets Ida tend to her, if anything she is just thankful for the warm bath that seems to further strengthen her."If I may ask, why was it that you called him High Lord, Ida?", she asks curiously, wondering if she older fae woman might indulge that returning curiosity of hers. It was her way of almost trying to ask how it was Ida knew him, and with any luck perhaps it might give her an idea for exactly how old Andras was. She wonders now exactly how old the fae woman herself was, wonders of how it was that she and Andras knew one another and how they had met... Even in light of what had happened, that ever curious light had now returned to those glittering baby blues though they did not reflect the guilt that still swelled in her heart. I hope he's okay.... So caught up in the way that the warm water seemed to chase away the ache that filled her entire frame, in the motherly presence of the fae woman that now begins to wash the soap from those golden locks no longer stained with her own blood, she doesn't even hear the growling of her stomach to the hunger that goes undetected despite her last meal having been nearly twenty-four hours ago. The last thing on her mind was food right now as she allows the soothing waters of that bath soak into every part of her though they only seemed to intensity the guilt she felt for what her carelessness had resulted in.