Uniana (prime)/Can't Be Washed Away

She sat in the steaming water and listened to the crackling static of the tiny bubbles popping. Her eyes closed as she willed herself to relax but back towards the center of the city she could still hear frequent shouts and the pounding of faint sabatons marching in unison on the cobbled streets. It made it difficult to forget such an unsettling experience but she knew Teveriel would want to keep her within the safety of the Fortress, at least throughout the night. The Ravelin, while potentially safe, was not nearly so impenetrable and probably not markedly quieter given the circumstances.

Her knees dipped into the water and she winced faintly, though she was left mended a lingering ache still saturated her bones along where she had been knocked to the ground. It was nothing that couldn't be seen to tomorrow but for now hot water, lavender, sage and perhaps a glass of scotch or two would have to suffice. The staff of the manor was already shaken upon the sight of her when she returned, blood splattered and grime-riddled. There would be no reason to remind them again of the threat that lingered so close to the walls.

Only two of the staff had been from the great Anduin estate and Uniana wondered if they were used to seeing the former Lady Anduin in such a way. Briefly, she had seen a portrait of her in fencing gear at Teveriel's maternal grandparents estate in Loenthra but nothing about the stories she had heard suggested she was a great warrior. Uniana sank her chin beneath the water line and watched a line of dried sanguine ichor detach from her chest and float away into a wave of diluted pink.

This was the only time she ever felt like an outsider here in the City of Swords. When it came under threat suddenly all the social graces in the world amounted to naught. She could join her husband on the front lines but the way he fought with his kin was so foreign to her. Unlike how they always worked so easily and fluidly together on the seas, the open air guiding her easily over decks and railing. Here the Legion practiced something entirely different and their regimented ranks stifled the air, making her feel closed in upon. Another problem to solve, she thought, easing her head back into the water and letting her dark curls fan out around her head like a scarlet halo. She considered the question once more to guide her to clarity, "who am I supposed to be in the company of soldiers when I have no business being on the field of battle?"

Then out loud she asked to her empty steam-filled boudoir, "how can I contribute in any meaningful way?"

She cupped a handful of bubbles and blew them across the tub, pushing out a contemplative sigh.