Ysaryn barely slept; besides the anxiety that coursed through her over the idea of sleeping here, among these elves, so far from where she felt safe, she didn't feel right. The bracelets. She tossed and turned, occasionally waking to try to pry them off again, only to find there was no way to remove them short of severing her hands from her wrists. She wasn't powerful in the ways of magic, and didn't suffer as much as Kire had, but wearing these stupid things made her feel like she slept beneath a heavy, itchy blanket. It was hard to get comfortable. 
At some point, she rose and, with a soft snarl, she quite literally tore the dress off of her, tossing it off her cot so she could sleep in nothing but her cloth bra and the pants she'd claimed. It helped, but the elf still struggled to rest. 

By the time morning came, she'd given up all hopes and moved to the little stream within the stone wall. Using one of the sleeves of her torn dress, she rinsed her skin, tearing off the bandages binding her leg to rinse free the salves and medicine the Raielwen had coated her flesh in. 
After washing and re-braiding her hair, she rummaged through the wardrobe again, finding a silk shirt to cover herself.

Then, it was just a matter of waiting. Narda woke after she did, then Kire, who looked like she struggled quite a bit to keep awake. Around noon, Ed arrived, and Kire asked for a bath. Ysaryn frowned, having completely forgotten they could ask for one. With a shrug, she followed after the others, unwillingly slipping on the sad little slippers the healers had provided. 

Walking after the other three, she felt naked. No leathers. No weapons. No magic. If things turned for the worse, she'd have to rely on the other two, or three, or four, if Zeke found them, to remain unharmed. And the chance of that? Ysaryn had eyed the guide just as Zeke had. Most of the elves here had little else to do but practice and perfect their bodies and skills. 

"Hm?" Ysaryn looked up when she heard her name. Ed. "Och. No. I am daughter of a chief. Not a lady." She insisted, falling into step beside him. Her braid swayed lazily behind her. "I understand. I rarely let on that I knew the common tongue. Listened to men talk. Sometimes the surprise is fun. You already know you are pretty. Is no matter to me that you know I think it." Ysaryn flashed her sharp canines at him. 
"I listen to you and Kirai speak. Are you to stay with us by the sea until you can leave?" She wondered. "I cook well. No doubt you miss meat, hm?"

The Amrian women were led silently into the mountain, the corridors muted in comparison the the night light hours. The halls were cooler, the warmth of the court less potent, but the flower smell lingered, even when the ceramic planters and urns disappeared. 
On the second tier, Farryn directed them into a small corridor that swooped down a set of stairs and into the belly of the mountain itself into a short but wide chamber. It arched upward, enveloped in darkness. The sound of droplets sounded on the stone floor as water built up and fell from the ceiling. On either side were two round pools of water, partially hidden from view by more dividers. All four of them steamed lazily, the mist rising up from behind the barriers. The sound of disturbed water betrayed that someone was already present, though they remained unseen. 

Farryn turned to speak in elvish to them both, indicating to her robes, and gesturing to the stone shelves along each wall, above a set of cubbies that held neatly folded drying robes. She gestured a few more times, to the water, to the dividers,  while still speaking, trying her best to explain regardless of the difference in language. 
When she finished, she bent low in a bow and swept from the room to wait.