I wake in a bed covered in blankets and furs. They're heavy and hot and I really want to get out of here.
"Don't move, my dove," a man says.
His voice is soft and low, like a purr. I would love to purr back but I'm suddenly aware I'm naked but not in a god way. I can feel the fine hairs on my legs that suggest I haven't used a razor in quite some time and I'm pretty sure there's hair in other places I'd rather it weren't if I'm going to let this man see me. And my mouth feels like something died in it. I need to brush my teeth. Mouthwash. Floss. There's never a handy nail bar when you need one, either. My only hope is that he doesn't live up to his voice.
I hug the covers to me and crack open an eye lid.
He does.
He smiles a most charming smile that would look right at home between my--
"How are we feeling today, my dove?" he asks me. "Do you remember the last time you woke?"
I've woken up more than once? The last thing I remember is falling down a rabbit hole.
He pours me tea from a kettle hanging over an honest-to-goodness open fire and then hands it to me. The mug, for want of a better word, is a clumsy brown ceramic thing with no handle. I take it without thinking and the covers drop, just a little. I do my best to rearrange them with one hand while holding on to the hot drink with the other.
"Oh, don't bother with that, my dove," he says. "There's no point wasting time in pretended shyness now," and he chuckles in a way that sounds sexy but makes me feel a little sick about how long I've been here with just him.
"No," I say slowly. "I don't remember anything after I fell down."
He tuts. "Well, you did fall from Heaven and you did land on your head."
"'Heaven'?" I ask.
This better not be the lamest chat up line set up in the history of Time. I do not have dreams just so gorgeous men can molest me and use shitty pick up lines.
He points upwards.
I look but all I see is a wooden ceiling, great thick beams with planks in between.
"Where am I?" I ask.
"My cottage," he says.
"And where's that?"
"In the Green Wood," he says with a smile.
I have no idea where that is.
"And who are you?"
"Andrew, my dove," he says. "Young Andrew if you know my father, who is also Andrew."
Which is a level of detail I really don't need.
"Forgive me, my dove, but you look like you could do with getting out in the sunshine and perhaps having a wash. Would you like me to take you outside to the pool?"