I awoke with a start, having just drifted off. Did absolutely all my canned food, cutlery and also the full store of pots and pans fall on the floor at the same time?

No, I hear someone grunting in pain trough the bedroom door. Wait, is there an intruder? On the third floor? How'd they get up here?

I wonder if the entire thing will go away if I just ignore it and try to fall asleep.

God damn it, fine, I'll get up and check it out.

Having found some pants and a shirt, I warily open the bedroom door and peek out.

My apartment is small, so the bedroom opens into a combined kitchen and living room.

On the floor I find a humanoid pile of metal, moaning in pain.

I turn on the light and the pile startles and lifts its head.

What in the Ren faire, comic con going Visby visiting fuck is going on here?

"Hej..?"

I say, succinctly, conveying "Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing on my floor?"

"Unintelligible." the dude responds.

"Pratar du svenska?" I try.

"English?" I continue.

"Parler-vous Francais?" I butcher in my best school French.

"Sprachen sie Deutch?" I wince.

"Uh, konnichiwa..?" I struggle to say,

"Sign language, point?" I sign, now desperate.

The dude, now sitting up. just continually shakes his head in bewilderment.

I rub my eyes and sigh in resignation.

"Tea? Probably tea, Tea."

I walk past the guy and fill the kettle with water from the top. The guy watches in amazement but I don't see that, After tuning the kettle on I put two tea bags in two cups and place them on the kitchen table.

I sit down to wait for the water to boil, and gesture to the chair across from me.

The armored guy gets up with some effort and gingerly joins me at the table. He's huge, so he has to fold up a little to sit on the chair. It looks ridiculous, but I manage not to smile.

I then let myself zone out and rub my bleary eyes once again. 

When I don't do anything for a while, the guy interestedly starts looking around the room. At the kettle, at the top, at the wallpaper, and up close at the grain of the wood of the tabletop, touching. the surface with a gauntleted finger.

The kettle turns off and I serve us both with water, guest first. I then dip the tea bag absentmindedly while trying to wake up.

The knight-looking guy looks at the served tea and tries to mimic the motion of dipping the tea bag, but struggles with the manual dexterity task due to the gauntlets. Instead he ends up repeatedly trying to pinch the little thread of the tea bag for a bit before giving up.

He seems dressed for a colder environment than my well-heated apartment, I note as my eyes drift from the gentle snow-fall outside to my surprise guest.

Yet he wouldn't at all be able to handle the winter landscape. He'd freeze to death rather quickly. How'd he get over here from whatever con in town I've missed the presence of?

He doesn't look cold, rather the opposite.

As I notice, he starts to tug on his breast plate as if to introduce more air, but without much success, due to the stiffness of the armor.

He then looks around, seeming to assess whether there's danger, before starting to undo the leather buckles of the gauntlets.

He takes them off, and then holds them awkwardly in his hand, looking around questioningly.

I rise and walk to the entrance, patting my hand on the coat hanger twice. I sit back down and the knight places the gauntlets on the coat hanger, then starts taking off outer layers.

When he gets to some straps on his back he struggles for a moment and then looks over at me, somewhat pleadingly.

I nod and rise, helping him with the buckles.

After a few moments we're back at the table, with the knight looking considerably less overheated. He had refused to take off the longsword at his waist, which now points to the floor next to the chair at an angle.

The tea is now drinkably warm and I realise the tea had drawn enough.

I take the tea bag out of my cup, and then his. He watches with interest.

Not entirely comfortable with being watched on an off-day, I sip my tea carefully. The knight picks up his cup, and sips it, mimicing me.

He makes a "mm" noise in surprise. I look up. What person hasn't had tea?

Hold on, why does this guy look around this very standard apartment like it's something off a spaceship?I peer a little closer at his outfit. It seems to have no synthetic fabrics, and very roughly vowen fabrics throughout.

As if all of it was created with preindustrial tools and processes.

Could the dude be from long ago? Is this a freaking isekai?

God damn it, I dont want to deal with this.

Seems this is another one of those problems that won't disappear by ignoring it.

Okay, so this kind of armor from that kind of time would have cost a fortune. To this dude is like nobility. Humble for nobility though. Sponsored by someone rich? Hard to say.

Anyway, I'm actually not done exhausting options for communication yet. I bring out my phone and set a translation app to auto-detect.

"Could you say something, please?" I say, and then gesture to him.

When he doesn't speak, I do a gesture from my mouth and out, and then point to myself

"I'm pronouncing a sentence. I'm saying words".

Then I do the same gesture but point to him.

Realisation appears on his face and he starts talking.

My app picks up the sounds but gives up rapidly, jumping between nonsense in various languages, before landing on "language not identified".

I sigh at the phone but nod to the knight. Then I point to my ear, shrug and shake my head.

He stops talking and leans over the table to inspect the glowing square, head tilted.

No use in losing more sleep to this, I think, and get up. I bring out the foldable guest bed out of my closet, place it in the living room, and make the bed.

I go to the light button, and catch the knight's attention. I bring my hand up, telegraphing pressing the button, then turn the light off and back on again.

The knight makes a startled noise in the darkness, and I see him with his hand on his sword when the light comes on again.

"No no no" I say, concerned, and gently pull on his arm to indicate taking his hand off his sword.

He acquiesces after a moment's hesistation, and then looks up at the artificial light.

I take his hand and put it on the button, and then guide it to turn the light off and back on again. Then I let him try it on his own.

He toggles the light. Then again. Then again. After the fifth time I start looking amused. He notices and flushes slightly. He stops, a little embarrassed.

Then I get into into my bed, pull the duvet over me, and then put my head on my pillow and mime sleeping.

I get up again, and I gesture to the guest bed.

He seems to understands, and nods in gratitude.

I smile, point to the light switch, and then go to bed.

I hear him shuffle about a little outside the door for a few minutes, and then the light goes out and things quiet down.

I drift off to sleep, blessedly.