(no subject)
As soon as Will steps into his room, the exhaustion comes crashing down on him, and he sways where he stands. In the bar, he had been buoyed by giddy relief and the remnants of far too much adrenaline, and by the sheer willpower of needing to be alert. Now that drains away, and he is left with a deep quiet joy that does nothing to combat the fatigue that makes his limbs leaden and his brain numb.
Slowly, mechanically, he empties his pockets and changes into pyjamas. In one pocket is a tiny ebon-black key; he eyes it for a moment, and then sets it carefully on the edge of his bedside table. He should go downstairs, he knows, and clean his teeth and wash his face and reassure his brothers that it's all over and they can stop worrying. The thought of it is as wearying as the thought of running a marathon. Tomorrow, he promises himself. Tomorrow is soon enough. For now, he only wants to sleep.
He pushes back the bedclothes, and falls into bed, nearly literally. He pulls the quilts around himself, switches off his lamp, and is fast asleep almost the moment his head touches the pillow.
He sleeps deeply and well and long, that night, with no nightmares or uneasiness but only deep restful slumber and a small smile on his face, and in one hand he holds his onyx key.
Slowly, mechanically, he empties his pockets and changes into pyjamas. In one pocket is a tiny ebon-black key; he eyes it for a moment, and then sets it carefully on the edge of his bedside table. He should go downstairs, he knows, and clean his teeth and wash his face and reassure his brothers that it's all over and they can stop worrying. The thought of it is as wearying as the thought of running a marathon. Tomorrow, he promises himself. Tomorrow is soon enough. For now, he only wants to sleep.
He pushes back the bedclothes, and falls into bed, nearly literally. He pulls the quilts around himself, switches off his lamp, and is fast asleep almost the moment his head touches the pillow.
He sleeps deeply and well and long, that night, with no nightmares or uneasiness but only deep restful slumber and a small smile on his face, and in one hand he holds his onyx key.