"Morning comes slow today,

Memories push through from yesterday"

-Stay, Poets of the Fall

Winter was hitting Kirkwall hard this year. Snow was piling thickly on the streets, the docks, and the roofs of the city. The cold was bitter, but wet, and it clung to the bones, the snow soaking through leather and cloth quickly, the cold damp sucking the heat from the flesh it clung to. The nobles stayed inside, only straying from the warmth of their homes if necessary. Lowtown was still moderately active, the denizens needing to continue to work to put food on the table. Only Darktown was spared the snow, but the cold was still bitter. The town almost seemed to have come to a standstill with the snow, frozen for a season.

Meredith stood at her window, her cobalt eyes watching as fat snowflakes floated lazily from the grey sky. She hated this weather. She couldn't train recruits. She couldn't do her patrols. She couldn't even sit outside and read. She was cooped up, and she felt like a caged animal. She wasn't even wearing her plate armor, she'd been stuck inside so long, wearing breeches and a tunic with soft leather boots. She glared at the snow some more, as though it would melt under her gaze, then huffed as a knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," she said irritably. The door pushed open to reveal a recruit standing at the door, looking at her with wide eyed panic.

"Knight Captain Stannard? It's the Knight Commander. He requested to see you," he squeaked.

Meredith nodded and followed the young man. She instantly became worried as he turned in the direction of Guylian's quarters instead of his office. A few of the recruits, and a large number of apprentices had become ill lately from the wet cold. She hoped the Knight Commander had not fallen ill as well. She quickened her pace, passing the recruit and shoving her way into the Knight Commander's quarters. She stopped, her eyes going wide. Knight Commander Guylian was in bed, covered to his chin, a weary looking mage- Senior Enchanter Lorel- trying to get him to drink from a small bowl of broth. She moved to get closer, but the mage held up her hands.

"No, Knight Captain, he's highly contagious!" She warned. Meredith scowled.

"And what of you then?" She asked, irritated that she couldn't get closer to see if her Commander was alright. The mage sighed as if dealing with a child.

"This illness differs from mage to templar, Knight Captain. I can tend to the Knight Commander, as this illness won't affect me. However, with the Knight Commander sick, we need you to take his place," she said hesitantly. Meredith lifted a brow.

"What do you mean?" She asked warily. Lorel furrowed her brow.

"The Knight Commander was tending to the First Enchanter before he fell ill. First Enchanter Orsino is very sick, far more so than the others. I need you to go to his quarters immediately and make sure he stays stable the next few days," she said, jerking her chin to the door where a crate of bottles and other assorted supplies sat waiting. Meredith blinked.

"I'm not a healer," she said desperately. "I can't do anything that will help!"

"You can. You can give him water, keep him covered and warm, try to feed him. No healing magic would work anyway. This illness renders the patient insusceptible to magic, and renders them unable to use their own magic- at will, anyway. Call it an armistice between templar and mage for now, if you will," Lorel said. "You won't get sick unless you stay in here longer than you have to. Now please, go tend to the First Enchanter. We will have your meals sent to you later."

Meredith sighed and grabbed the crate, hefting it into her arms and storming out. First the snow contained her to the Gallows interior, now it was containing her in Orsino's chambers. What a wonderful way to spend a week. She grumbled as she climbed the stairs, cursing Orsino for picking the chambers at the top of the tower. She paid no attention to the younger mages skirting out of her way as she wound her way up the staircase.

"Of course the First Enchanter would live at the top of the sodding tower," she grumbled, shifting the weight of the crate to alleviate some of the pain in her arms.

She finally reached the top of the tower and strode down the corridor, passing the rooms of the senior enchanters. It was easy to see which room was Orsino's; Knight Captain Lancaster was standing outside the door, glowering. She returned the glower, mainly because she was irritated. Lancaster was already there; why was she the one to come up and tend to Orsino?

"Stannard, thank the Maker," he said, the glower fading from his face as she neared him. "I wasn't sure what I'd do if you hadn't shown up."

Meredith blinked.

"Why? What's going on?" She asked. "Why was I told to come up here if you're already here?"

"The First Enchanter's delirious with fever, Stannard. He won't let anyone near him. But, seeing as you spend time with him helping him in the office, he might respond to you. We need to get his fever down, but I couldn't get him to take any water," Lancaster said, looking frustrated. Meredith noticed he was sporting a bruise on his cheekbone, and blinked.

"Lancaster, what happened?" She asked. He grimaced and rubbed his black and blue cheek.

"The First Enchanter knows a bit of force magic, Stannard. He might be a slender elven mage, and he might be close to his forties, but he hits like a bronto when he's flailing with no control over himself," he said irritably. Meredith winced.

"And I get to be the one to try and calm him down? Lovely. Is he awake?" She asked. Lancaster shook his head.

"He's unconscious, but he wakes up occasionally, talking, crying out and flailing in his sleep. Until he gets some of those potions in his system, he won't get any better," he said, motioning to the vials in the crate she held, "and you won't get anything in him until you calm him down."

"If you couldn't hold him down, what makes you think I could? He's asleep anyway, how hard is it to tilt a vial down his throat?" She snapped. Lancaster sighed.

"He isn't able to control his magic, so it's a seething tempest in there. I had my lyrium this morning, so his magic is reacting to me. Can't get close without him lashing out in self defense. You haven't had your lyrium today, have you?" He asked.

Meredith shook her head. She spent her days with Orsino in his office, helping him as an assistant, then did night patrols, so she wasn't due for her own lyrium until after sundown. The abilities, the presence that made her a templar, wasn't active. The swell of energy that was simply 'templar' was latent under her skin. This was good and bad- she might no provoke Orsino's delirious defenses, but if she did, she wouldn't be able to fend him off. She handed the crate to Lancaster and put her hand on the door.

"Cover me. If he lashes out, I won't be able to cleanse or silence him properly- he's not an apprentice or a freshly Harrowed mage. Without my lyrium dose, I am pretty much at the level of a recruit against him," she said flatly.

Lancaster nodded somberly. He knew what the First Enchanter was capable of- the bruise on his cheek signified as much. Both templars bristled, their hackles raised as Meredith shoved the door open and strode carefully into chambers of the most powerful mage in the Free Marches. A mage capable of setting the entire city on fire. A mage that was tossing on his bed in a fever induced delirium. Lancaster stayed back a bit at Meredith's silent motion, and she crept closer to his bed, pausing every few steps to gauge his reaction. When she got close enough, her face crinkled in pity.

Orsino was drenched in sweat, his hair lank on the mattress beneath him- the pillows long kicked off the bed onto the floor- his face pale, brow furrowed as he ground his teeth audibly. In pain, or the grips of a nightmare, Meredith couldn't tell. His blankets and sheets were pushed to the end of the bed, and his slender body shook with chills. Meredith dropped her guard and closed the distance between herself and the bed, reaching out carefully to stroke his cheek. She held her breath as her hand came in contact with his feverish skin, her gut clenching, but he didn't attack her. He groaned in his sleep, a low cry that could have been agony or sorrow. There was no telling in his state. He rolled violently, his head jerking, his back arching, and Meredith's eyes went wide as she saw he was starting to convulse.

"Orsino, no. Calm down!" She hissed.

She scrambled onto the bed and straddled his hips, grabbing his head with both hands, leaning over him to press her forearms against the sides of his face to hold him still. His chest heaved underneath her, his legs kicking. His hands reached out blindly, flailing, and one found her upper arm, and frost began to accumulate on the sleeve of her tunic. She winced as her skin went numb, but she continued to hold him still, bending over him. She moved her face close to his ear and made soothing sounds. She let go of one side of his face and pried his jaws open, shoving her fingers into his mouth to make sure he didn't swallow his tongue. Instantly, his jaws clamped down, hard enough to break skin, and she felt the joints of her fingers creak in protest. Her eyes watered with pain, and blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth as she bled from the bite he had on her hand, but she didn't falter.

"Shhh. Shhh, Orsino. Calm down. Calm down, First Enchanter. You have to calm down. It's okay. It's alright. You're going to be okay," she whispered in his ear.

She repeated the mantra over and over, and slowly, he began to relax. His legs stopped their kicking, his hand letting go of her arm, and his back stopped arching in an attempt to leave the mattress. His jaws slowly relaxed their hold on her fingers, but she didn't remove them from his mouth until his neck relaxed. As soon as he went still, falling limp against the mattress again, she pressed her ear to his chest. His heart was racing, but he was okay. For now. She pulled her fingers from his mouth, wincing as she saw the bruises rapidly rising on the skin, and she had difficulty bending two of them. He'd bitten through a ligament or jammed a joint. Either way, she'd need to see a healer to ensure the fingers didn't heal improperly and impede the use of her hand. She got off the bed carefully and picked up the pillows as Lancaster edged closer. Orsino stirred, so he backed away again.

"You alright, Stannard? That was impressive," he said quietly as she slid the pillows under Orsino's head, then moved to pull the blankets up over him.

"Bruised fingers, numb arm. I'm fine," she replied, moving back over to him after tucking Orsino in. "Not looking forward to however long it takes til he gets well again, but you were right. He calmed down for me. Looks like I have no choice but to nurse him back to health."

"I'll deliver your meals myself, Meredith," Lancaster said, his tone suddenly passionate. "I couldn't take care of him but you can. I'll make sure you have everything you need."

"Thank you, Aaron," she said, smiling a bit. "I appreciate it."

"Is there anything you can think of that you'd like?" He asked.

"Actually," she said, sticking her bleeding fingers in her mouth without thinking. "Books. Fiction. Myths, legends. Something from his office, something familiar. If I read to him, it might keep him calm. Also, maybe some of the rolls of parchment from his desk, and an inkwell."

"Parchment and ink? Why?" Aaron asked.

"They're part of his routine. I'd open the inkwell and set it on the nightstand. Maybe the scent of ink and parchment will help, too when I do happen to take a catnap," she replied, sucking on her wounded fingers. It struck her that Orsino's saliva was on her masticated digits, and to her bewilderment, she found it tasted of cinnamon and clove. Aaron nodded.

"Anything else?" He asked.

"If you can manage it, stew for supper, with bread, and some cheese. Something that will linger in my gut so I'll have the energy. And some wine. Please. Storm if you can get it without trouble," she said weakly. "It's going to be a long few days."

Aaron nodded and left the room. Meredith grabbed one of the vials of medicine and sat it on the nightstand before removing her boots and climbing back onto the bed. There was a glass of water on the nightstand already, and she made quick inventory of it. Right now, she needed him to drink the medicine. He flinched away from her touch, moaning softly, but she pushed his damp hair from his face, and against her better judgment, gently ran her fingers over one of his ears.

The effect was instantaneous. He melted, relaxing completely with a shuddering sigh, and she sighed in relief, reaching for the vial and uncorking it with her teeth. Sliding behind him, lifting him so she was sitting against the headboard and resting him against her chest, she put the vial to his lips, rubbing his throat gently, encouraging him to swallow as she tipped the lavender fluid into his mouth. Thankfully, he swallowed it all without a fight, and she tried her luck with the glass of water. To her delight, he swallowed that even easier, obviously parched. She only let him take small sips to avoid having him spit it back up, but slowly got him to drink half the glass. She saw no point in moving him again, as Aaron would return shortly with her dinner, and hopefully some broth for him as well, so she relaxed against the headboard, stroking his hair idly.

The doors opened again, Aaron striding into the room with a tray that bore a few bowls, a bottle, and a plate with bread. He said nothing, but lifted an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Meredith with Orsino sitting up and leaning against her chest, his head tilted back against her shoulder. She nodded at the glass of water and the empty vial on the nightstand.

"Got him to take the first dose, and drink some water," she said quietly. "Progress."

Aaron risked coming close enough to set the tray on the bed. Orsino's shoulder jerked a bit, but Meredith reached up and stroked his ear again, making him relax. Aaron blinked.

"The ear? Really? That's all it takes?" He asked incredulously. Meredith snorted in amusement.

"I had no idea his ears were that sensitive. I touched one when trying to get him to relax, and it worked," she replied, reaching for the bowl of brother, testing the temperature before dipping a spoon into it and pressing it gently to Orsino's lips Aaron watched as she tilted the spoon, pouring the small bit of broth into his mouth, her other hand rubbing his throat so he'd swallow. She made a satisfied sound as he took the broth with no issue.

"Good. I'll give him just a few spoonfuls and see if he keeps it down," she said to no one in particular. "Was he vomiting?"

Aaron shook his head.

"Mainly fever and delirium, convulsions, shaking, chills, random flaring of his magic," he said tersely. Meredith nodded, looking back down at Orsino, a frown creasing her brow.

"Need anything else, Stannard?" Aaron asked. She shook her head, spooning up some more broth and feeding it to him.

"This is fine for now. Thank you, Lancaster. I'm going to try to get some fluids in him and see if he sleeps alright with the medicine in him," she said, stroking his throat, coaxing him to swallow the broth. Aaron nodded.

"Good luck, Meredith," he said, shutting the doors behind him. Meredith sighed, but Orsino relaxed measurably as soon as the other templar left, swallowing another spoonful of broth without any coaxing. Meredith smiled a bit.

"Good. Let's get you better, Orsino. Then we can get back to work."

Meredith woke to Orsino crying out in his sleep. She'd fallen asleep after reading an entire book to him, feeding him the bowl of broth, giving him another dose of medicine and finishing her own dinner. She'd tried staying awake, but the gentle cadence of Orsino's breath had lulled her into a light doze in the chair she sat in. Now, he was tossing and turning next to her, murmuring in distress. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, feeling a bit awkward as she climbed back onto the bed. He was clenching his fists, his teeth bared in pain.

"Mamae," he choked out. "Mamae, I'm sorry."

Meredith blinked, torn between shock and the feeling that she was hearing something that no templar should ever hear. He was calling for his mother, someone he most likely hadn't seen in decades. She didn't know what to do, staring at him helplessly as tears poured from his closed eyes over his still feverish cheeks. She reached out to wipe them away, but hesitated, pulling her hand back. What did she do at a time like this?

"I'm sorry, Mamae! I didn't mean to make you cry! Please stop crying! I love you, Mamae, please stop crying!"

His cries were coherent, but not from the man that lay sweating on the bed next to her. They were from a child decades ago that was missing his mother, taken from home by the templars and brought to the Circle. A sob erupted from his throat, his chest shaking, and Meredith bit her bottom lip, his words tugging at her heart painfully.

"I want to go home! I want my mamae!" He blurted, his fists curling in the sheets.

Meredith couldn't take it any longer. She knew that pain. She knew that loneliness. The desperate ache of the child that wanted nothing more than to feel a mother's embrace that was gone forever. She wrapped her arms around the First Enchanter's chest, pulling him to her, into her lap as she sat up against the headboard. She stroked his hair, made soothing sounds, and rubbed the back of his neck, but his cries, now nothing more than sounds of distress more than actual words, refused to cease. She glanced at the door and didn't see Aaron's shadow at the crack at the bottom. She bit her lip, then pressed her cheek to the top of his head, remembering how her mother would sing to her when she was sick. After a few moments of remembering the words, and the melody, she took a breath and began to croon gently.

"Birds' love and birds' song

Flying here and there,

Birds' song and birds' love

And you with gold for hair!

Birds' song and birds' love

Passing with the weather,

Men's song and men's love,

To love once and forever.

Men's love and birds' love,

And women's love and men's!

And you my wren with a crown of gold,

You my queen of the wrens!

You the queen of the wrens -

We'll be birds of a feather,

I'll be King of the Queen of the wrens,

And all in a nest together."

She sang softly, hoping that Aaron wasn't around. The song hurt her to sing; it was a lullaby her mother had sang to her when she was little, but Orsino needed the comfort, so she showed him the tenderness her mother had shown her, hoping it would help. The tune was slightly off, battered by memories she had long sought to keep buried, but had dug up for his sake. Her voice was far from pretty, but it had a smooth tone and a warm soft texture. By the time her song faded on her lips, Orsino had stopped his crying, and had curled his fingers into her tunic. She bit her lip, and continued humming the melody, stroking his silver streaked umber hair.

He started shivering again, his fever starting to spike again. She sighed and pulled the covers over them both as she had him lay down. She had to keep him warm, and she was just going to fall asleep again anyway- if she stayed in bed with him she could give him warmth and be close in case he convulsed again. She rolled him on his side and pressed close, spooning him reluctantly. He rolled over almost instinctively, pressing his face into her shoulder, fingers seeking out her tunic and curling in the fabric again.

She bit back a tired smile and stroked his hair. When he was vulnerable like this, so exposed, she could take in the details of him that made him attractive. The elegant sweep of his nose, the expressiveness of his face, the stubborn set of his jaw, the fine sculpt of his clavicle. She hated to admit it, but he was handsome for a man his age. For a mage. Another hour passed, and his fingers relaxed as he fell into a deeper sleep. His heartbeat against her ribs, the warmth of his cheek on her shoulder, his breath on her neck all made for another lure into sleep, and sleep she did, dozing off, her fingers in his hair.

Orsino slowly came to, feeling weak, drained but comfortably warm and snug. He kept his eyes closed, not willing to open them yet- drifting back off to sleep was far too tempting. However, the scent of white musk, leather and steel reached his nose. A tickle of silken hair touched his nose, and he opened his eyes. He blinked, unsure of what was going on.

Meredith was sleeping on her side with her back pressed to his chest, her sides rising and falling with her gentle breathing. His arm was flung over her waist, her rump pressed against his hips, their legs tangled together. Orsino flushed, not because of fever, but because he suddenly was all too aware of the fact that her haunches- which, to his tortured delight, were firm and warm- were pressed firmly against his groin.

He tried to stay still, hoping to push the thoughts from his mind as a spark ignited in his loins from having the young woman pressed against him, soft and supple in his arms. He tried remembering, trying to figure out how this had come to pass. He remembered feeling light headed, feverish...then blacking out. He'd gotten sick. Had Meredith been taking care of him this entire time? How long had he been out? Why was she in his bed?

She shifted in her sleep, mumbling incoherently and pressing further against him. Unable to resist, he ran his hands down her sides, her arms, her thighs. He stroked her hair and ran a hand down her back. His cock stirred between his thighs, growing hard against the toned flesh of her rump that was pressed against his hips. He stroked her waist, and realized her tunic had ridden up during the night, and her skin was bared to him. He ran hungry fingers over the soft skin, drinking in how tender and warm it was. He longed to run his hands over her rump, her breasts, to roll her over and touch her lips, to kiss her eyelids.

Meredith stretched, her back arching, her body tensing beautifully against him, and she rolled over, opening her eyes. He paused, his hands still wandering over her hips, but were now on her belly since she rolled over her. Her cobalt blue eyes stared into his jade green gaze, golden eyebrows lifted in sleepy confusion. He was silent, his cheeks turning red. Slowly, it dawned on her the nature of the situation, and she realized his erection was digging into her hip. To his surprise, however, she didn't recoil. She made no mention of it. Perhaps she thought he was still ill. He felt weak, hungry and like his mind had been wrung out, but he didn't feel sick.

"How are you feeling?" It was odd hearing that come from her. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly bone dry, and he simply nodded. She sighed.

"That doesn't tell me anything. Do you feel better?"

"Y-yes," he managed, his throat clenching. She propped herself up on an elbow and looked him over.

"You look better," she remarked. "At least you're not convulsing, I guess."

She leaned over to feel his forehead, her chest pressing against his. Orsino couldn't stand it. She was too close. Too warm. Too soft. She smelled too good. He reached out and cupped her face with his hands. Her eyes went wide, and she made a soft sound, but was too slow to pull away as he pressed his mouth to hers. He groaned at how soft her lips were, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent, his hands moving to stroke her back.

Meredith was utterly shocked by Orsino's kiss. She wanted to say he was still delirious, that she could easily break this off and give him a sleeping draught...but oh. She wanted this- she just didn't know she had wanted it. Kissing Orsino felt natural, it felt right, it felt good. She gasped against his mouth, parting her lips a bit, inviting him in. His tongue flicked her bottom lip teasingly before sliding from his mouth and into hers. She groaned; she'd never kissed a man like this before, and his tongue was utterly foreign to her. It was warm, wet and slick inside her mouth, and oddly tasting of cinnamon and clove, even though she'd fed him nothing but beef broth and water the night before. She wondered if this was his magic she was tasting, but she found she didn't care what it was.

Orsino's hands were wandering, sliding under her tunic. She made no protest as he cupped a breast in one hand, so he played with her nipple gently as he rolled her on her side, pressing her rump back against him. She made a small soft cry and arched her back, her breast pressing into his hand. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, kissing the soft skin.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, moving a hand to dip inside her breeches, cupping a firm cheek of her rump.

She replied by wriggling her hips, pressing into his touch. He chuckled and pulled at her tunic, watching as she sat up and pulled it over her head, then slid out of her breeches. His eyes went wide.

"No smalls," he nearly choked. She flushed, then recovered, giving him a small grin.

"No smalls," she echoed, moving to kiss him again. He rolled her back on her side, ignoring her sound of protest.

"I want it this way," he growled softly, kissing her shoulder.

She sighed, waiting almost impatiently as he pulled off his robe. He pulled her back against him, his cock rubbing against her rump, and she let out a small gasping sigh, lifting a leg almost instinctively, the cock sliding between her thighs. Orsino grunted a bit, tilting and wriggling his hips, pulling her back, trying to find it...

"Orsino!" She gasped as he found her entrance and slowly slid himself into her. He blinked, balking at how tight she was.

"Meredith, you... you weren't..."

Meredith hissed and shoved her hips back against him, pushing herself onto him fully, making him cry out in pleasure.

"I was, but it hardly matters. You're hilted inside me, now finish what you started, First Enchanter," she moaned, arching her back, clawing the sheets.

He needed no further encouragement. He grabbed her hips and began thrusting inside her, low cries escaping his throat. Meredith pressed against him, pushing her head against his shoulder, gasping and making high pitched sounds of pleasure. He moved a hand to her quim, fingers searching her folds and finding her clit. She shrieked, bucking wildly.

"Yes! Oh Maker, Orsino, yes! Right there! Please!" She wailed, reaching back to grab his hair, panting.

Orsino flicked at her clit, alternating between frost and lightning, pleased he had control of his magic again. He was getting winded, still weak from his fever, but Maker help him, he wasn't stopping til he made this beautiful young woman come for him. He ran his nails of his other hand down her back, squeezing her rump as he sank his teeth into her shoulder. Meredith was beyond coherent words at this point, gasping, halfway making out his name between cries.

"Orsino...I can... oh MAKER, I..." she babbled, her eyes shut tightly, head tilted back.

"You can what, Meredith?" He growled, biting at her exposed throat, thrusting deep into her, relishing how soft and firm her rump was against him, how wet, warm and tight she was around his cock, the soft vulnerable warble of her voice as she struggled for words.

"So deep, oh Maker, so deep," she practically sobbed. "Orsino I'm...oh Maker I'm..."

She didn't need to be coherent for him to understand what she meant. Her body was convulsing around him, squeezing his cock in a vicegrip. She was close to coming. He was almost there...almost. She slid a hand between them and pressed her hand to his belly, smiting him slightly. With no lyrium in her system, it didn't hurt, but the jolt to his tightening abs sent him over the edge. With a cry, they both climaxed, and she fell against him, panting like she'd run a mile. Orsino went limp, pulling her as close as he could, still buried inside her. She wriggled a bit and he bit back a cry at the over sensitive flesh was stimulated again. She let out a purr of satisfaction- a sound that made him swell with masculine pride- and nestled close. He ran hands over her back and sides, rumbling contentedly.

"That was amazing," she breathed, closing her eyes as he pulled the blankets back over them. He rumbled in his chest and kissed the back of her neck.

"I'm glad I pleased you, Meredith," he said softly. She was quiet a moment.

"Did I... was it... Did you enjoy it?" She asked shyly. He chuckled.

"If the wet warm mess we made is any indication, I'd say yes, Meredith," he said, nuzzling her shoulder. She relaxed and pressed back against him.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said. Orsino laughed.

"I might have to get sick more often," he murmured. She snickered.

"If it means this will happen more often, then I'll gladly play nursemaid again."

Orsino rolled her over to face him, planting a long kiss on her mouth, his eyes glittering.

"Who says we need an excuse?"

She smirked at him.

"Not me," she said. "However, I might need a dose of medicine myself...I don't want to get sick, too."

Orsino grinned wickedly.

"I already gave you a dose," he chided teasingly, touching a fingertip to her nose. She feigned an innocent look.

"But I want to make sure I don't get sick! Surely you wouldn't withhold medicine from me, Orsino!"

Orsino pulled her close, his arousal already building again.

"Of course not, Meredith. Now hold still while I give you another dose," he said slyly, pulling the blankets over their heads, claiming her mouth once more.

Song Meredith sang is Spring by Alfred Lord Tennyson.