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 Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 1:52 pm
He felt her stare and refused to face it, afraid of what he would see. "Hell if I know," he scoffed. "Only those day walker vamps know, and they're not saying a word. Between you and me, I'd just as soon call it right now and find some nice, quiet stretch of land to call home. I'm not liking this body, and I'd like to have mine back."
He realized too late what he had said, and hoped she wouldn't notice. He didn't feel up to the task of explaining.
"So why aren't you with him? Sleeping inside and relaxing? In the short span of one night we've shipwrecked, traveled several miles... You must be tired by now."
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 2:23 pm
She swallowed hard. Only those day walker vamps know, and they're not saying a word. They were plotting against them all this time? Did her mother know about this? I'm not liking this body, and I'd like to have mine back. He wasn’t in his own body? Jaime was beyond confused and was about to ask for an explanation when he changed the subject. She frowned at this, casting her eyes down to the rim of her dress in an attempt to hide her frustration. Her hand balled into a fist and plucked out the grass and stems of weeds it could find.
“I’m fine,” she said, being slightly curt. “I’m not his slave anymore. I don’t have to be at his side twenty-four-seven.” There was a brief moment after which she sighed and apologized, "Sorry."
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 2:37 pm
 
James shook angrily, one hand balled into a fist at his side, the other grasping the edge of a heavy, wooden door. He had opened the door to the dining hall a crack. He wasn't allowed to be there. Many rooms were off limits to him. He watched in quiet rage as Pierre brushed a strand of hair from her pale cheek, whispering something. She giggled quietly. He let the door fall away back to its frame and pressed against the wall in anguish. They always wanted the Prince. If he had been more bold, not wasted so much time... All those long walks, those deep conversations, sharing secrets, flirting, hinting - everything and she had never returned his affection. No. Not ever, not really. It was always Pierre...
James snapped out of it, his temper returning. He wished there would be some warning before a memory obscured him. He looked down where Jaime sat; once more he felt sadness and regret. He offered his hand. "Perhaps we should walk out of our moods," he suggested.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 2:55 pm
She nodded, smiled and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. She gently dusted her dress and folded her hands in front of her. Their silence was filled with birds and beetles, the rustling of her dress and the crunching of foliage under their soles. After a while, she started smiling by herself, thinking that this was much better than being inside even if the dress was infuriatingly restricting. She felt free, somehow, from expectations.
“Imagine what it would be like to fly,” she started, staring up at the sky with awe. “Just to take flight, escape above the clouds and be entirely free of all troubles and obligations for a at least that brief moment. I think most people are born into the wrong species. I could be a cat – just laze around all day; eat and sleep and play when I’d like. That sounds a bit hedonistic, doesn’t it?” She laughed apologetically. Small-talk was not her area of expertise.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 3:07 pm
James nodded and looked upward; it was something he had thought about many times when he was in his cell in Ravenheart. But a cat? He thought he'd be driven mad with boredom. He wondered if she was feeling trapped and that's why she wanted to be "escape" and be "free of troubles and obligations." With a sigh, he brought his attention back below the clouds, watching the sun shine on her light hair. It was such a simple thing, yet it had captured his attention. His stomach clenched in knots. He stopped dead in his tracks, inwardly spiraling into panic.
"I'm tired," he breathed, staring at the ground a few feet ahead of him. "I think I'll go to bed now." He backed away slowly until he was on the other side of the thick oak tree, and turned, walking quickly up the path to the estate. I just need to sleep it off. It's one thing for him to have taken a love from me, but for me to covet someone he wants... and who wants him, he reminded himself angrily. Just what kind of man are you?
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 3:23 pm
Jaime parted her lips to say something, but knew nothing would stop him. She sighed, wondering if it was something she said, but brushed the thought from her mind and added it to the 'not dealt with' pile. Hugging her chest, she followed. Might as well check on mum and then get some sleep... Maybe figure out what they are going to do next. No. She increased her pace, taking small but fast steps and cursing the stupid dress. A small hand snaked its way around James' left arm, tugging at it for him to stop. When he turned, he was met with a bundle of unidentifiable emotions that refused to convert themselves into words.
"You don't have to... Just tell me what's... I... What's bothering you?" She was still not sure if that was the question she wanted to ask. That was not the only question, for sure. There were a lot of things they kept from her, she knew that, and there was nothing she hated more. I'm not a child. Tell me what's happening.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 3:31 pm
James was intensely aware of her hand. Part of him wanted to tug away, but the other part of him never wanted her to let go. No. Stop. She is for Pierre, and you are just the guard. A friend. Nothing more. Gently, he pulled his arm away, looking pained. "There are thoughts I have that I do not wish to have," he told her quietly, looking at the space of grass between them. "I am not the sort of man that ruins the lives of those he cares about for selfish reasons. To this end, I can tell you no more." He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "Tell me you hate me. Tell me you don't want me around you anymore. I need to hear it from your lips." Not from Pierre. You. Your lips... He wished he could kiss her. Instead, he bit his lower lip, the pain cleansing him of the thought.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 3:54 pm
Jaime let go of his arm and allowed her hands to retreat to her opposite sides. There was a painful lump in her chest that hugging it would not soothe. She closed her eyes tightly and lowered her head, then shaking it. Her movement ceased. She took deep breaths, trying to keep her tears at bay. Am I the source of your pain? she wanted to ask, but was too afraid of the answer to bring the thought into reality. When she finally parted her lips to speak, "I'm sorry, I can't" came out of it in a soft whisper, barely audible. The irrational fear of losing him was something she could not quite comprehend at that immediate moment.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 4:09 pm
James leaned toward her for a moment, wanting to make it all go away, wanting to - for even a moment - show her just how much he needed her. He stopped short, rocking back on his feet. "I was afraid of that," he said, his mouth forming a small, sad smile. He stood there, staring down at her. He didn't want to stay, but he didn't want to leave, either.
He dug his heels into the ground, afraid that he'd come too close to her and all his control. His hands wanted to reach for her, to pull her close and hold her; he shoved them in his pockets and balled them into tight fists. He took a deep breath, watching her stare down at the ground. She seemed so small, so fragile. Pierre doesn't deserve her. He knew this was true, but there was nothing he could do. He looked upward at the sky, searching for the strength he was running out of. She loves him. If only I hadn't been cursed, I might have asked Pierre permission to be a suitor... As soon as he thought it, it made him angry. His heart burned with hatred for his old friend; returning his gaze to Jaime softened his anger, but made his heart burn all the more.
"I am a man," he managed to choke out in a low voice, "who does not betray his friends - no matter how much he might want to. Good night, Miss Knight." He turned slowly and continued trudging along the path, struggling with each step that took him further from her, his heart tearing in half each time his boot crunched the gravel - into halves, fourths, eights, until he was sure there was no way he had a heart left. But if I don't have a heart, why does it still hurt so much?
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 4:32 pm
She let him go. Her throat felt lumpy and her chest ached. She remained perfectly still with her hand clamped over her mouth and her eyes shut. Tears dampened the base of her lashes and threatened to spill, but she bit on her tongue to make them go away. After taking three deep breaths, she removed her hand from her mouth and opened her eyes. He was gone. There was the last pang of guilt or anguish and then it was over. She swallowed, took a small bite out of her half-eaten apple and threw it under a tree to rejoin the earth, straightened herself, making sure her surface betrayed no emotion, and made for the entrance of the inn. She slipped into the hall where the rest had gathered, spotted her mother having a pleasant conversation with a white-haired man and started searching for Pierre. His golden hair was prominent and it was easy to catch sight of him. She stood there, staring for a fleeting moment; trying to decide whether she should go to him and tell him she's going to lay down for a while, or just leave them all be. They seemed happy; content; complete. She turned, drawing the conclusion that it would be rude to trouble him with her ill mood. You'll feel better after some sleep. Maybe you'll wake up and all of this would just be a dream... 
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 4:53 pm
James found himself in a room on the second floor; he didn't bother to close the door all the way, but instead sat in the middle of the floor, his legs crossed, his back to the door, and his head hanging low. He loved her so much that it took everything he had to remain sitting on the floor and not run to her, begging for her to come away with her and forget becoming like them. His latest memory told him a bit more of his people, and he employed the remembered practice immediately, lighting a candle in front and behind him, as well as one to either side.
He sprinkled ash from the hearth around him in a circle and began singing a song in his native tongue - a song of sorrow and a call for strength, for pain to be taken away. [Link] He allowed the music to surround and consume him. It was little comfort, but he didn't cease and continued on, hoping it would bring him solace; he couldn't keep his mind from imagining a myriad of images, all involving Jaime - sitting on a river bank, placing his hand upon hers, her smile... He lifted his voice to try to drown out the thoughts.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 5:21 pm
Jaime locked the door behind her and took off the dress, letting it drop to the floor. She crawled over the bed and got into it, but drowsiness would not take her. There was music. It started as a hum; grew louder, but the words were still unfamiliar. The sensation was somewhat soothing, but thought-provoking. She covered her head with a pillow. Why...
She sat up again, hugging the pillow to her chest and wishing for some distraction or release. There was none. She gave a groan of frustration and threw herself back onto the bed. "What have I done?" she breathed.
She got up, pulled a simple dress over her head - the first she could find - and went to James' room. He was resting on his back with his hands folded over his abdomen. "James?" She touched his arm lightly. His eyes flashed open, but it was not him.
Jaime shot up, gasping for air. She went to the cupboard, pulled on a dress that seemed oddly like the one in her dream, and went to search for her friend. She didn't bother with shoes or with her hair. Most of the rooms were still vacant. One of the doors near hers was only closed somewhat. She knocked, waited, and then peered around the edge in impatience.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 5:33 pm
A faint light surrounded him, moving like water; a subtle breeze blew about the room, warm and comforting. James finished the last verse and realized that the words had come from within him; he couldn't recall ever knowing them. The breeze and light faded completely. He stood, noticing that the candles had blown out and the ashes had been scattered. He placed the candles on the fireplace mantle and removed his coat, his thin white shirt hanging loosely about him.
He felt relaxed and sort of drugged, but he didn't love Jaime any less. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not; all he could do was feel a sort of internal stillness. A quiet. His mind wandered back to her. No, his feelings were as strong as ever, but the pain had dulled. He wondered how long that would last when he felt as if he was being watched.
Slowly, he approached the door and pulled it open. Jaime stood before him. He smiled an lazy, vague smile. "Madam," he acknowledged with a nod of his head.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 5:42 pm
She met his eyes immediately and sighed with relief. "I know it's not my place to ask favours," and that I'm probably the last person you would like to see, "but just promise me one thing." She took a breath as if she had been running. "Don't disappear." Her expression was serious and there was a stern urgency in her eyes. She didn't apologise for rudely barging in or for her sleepy-hair, but cut right to the chase and expected him to do the same.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 5:49 pm
James noticed that her breathing was ragged and listened to her breath being drawn into her lungs. She was so delicate, fragile like glass, but at the same time he knew she could be strong if she let herself. He heard her words as if from a distance, but found it difficult to concentrate. Her hair was all mussed up as if she had been sleeping. Her dress was simple and made her seem even smaller. He vaguely wondered if she would float away.
Before he realized what he was doing, he had reached out and gently brushed her cheek with his finger tips, his eyes hazy and staring past her to a distant daydream. He let his hand fall to his side once more. "So small," he said to no one in particular. He opened the door fully and backed away to a table, pouring a glass of cold water. He held it at arm's length, his gaze resting on her.
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