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 Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:03 pm
"James, what are you..." She started, annoyed, but her resolve melted and an inevitable smile crept onto her face. "You're mad," she almost laughed, shaking her head slowly and watching him hold out a glass of water for some reason that seemed to be to measure her. "What... I'm not that short." She took the glass from him, carefully and patiently, waiting for him to let it go before supporting it wholly.
"What have you been taking?" She stepped closer, standing on her toes to get a better view of his eyes. They seemed like his. Why am I so worried about this? His gaze seemed distant and aloof as if he was not all there. The thought sent shivers down her spine and her smile fell.
"Come, stop being silly and get some rest." She placed the water on the table and walked over to the bed, loosening the tucked-in sheets and folding them open. I shouldn't stay long. Just make sure he'll be fine and leave.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:22 pm
 
He was seventeen. Pierre and Alora walked hand in hand down the path; he followed behind, ever the bodyguard. It was his duty to protect Pierre and his guests - even when that guest was the girl he loved. He masked his anger and buried it deep. Every giggle drove an icy blade to his core; still, he refused to show it, following down the path like a sentient shadow.
* * *
Jaime and Pierre, riding side-by-side along the road, James walking and leading his horse. Even then he had felt it; even then he had cursed his own luck that Pierre had won her heart so effortlessly. He had no choice but to suffer in silence. Pierre was his friend; he swore to protect him, even from himself.
The room swam back into view and James staggered backward into a chair. Breathing heavy, he looked to Jaime, once more pleading, his voice no longer calm but urgent, desperate. "Please," he begged, "Please, order me away from you. I'm begging you, hate me." He tried with all the strength he had left to remain in the chair and not be with her. He buried his face in his hands; he couldn't let himself look at her anymore. He didn't want to see her face. If he did, he would not be able to go through with it. He would not let her tell him to go. He would come apart...
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:42 pm
The room fell silent. She did not make a noise. She wanted to comfort him, but did not know how. It would be easier for him to say goodbye now, she knew that, but... But what? You're being selfish.
She walked over to a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. There was scribbling. And a pause. Pierre is never here. Does he even think about me when I'm gone? Of course he does, he's just busy. Don't be so needy. How could you even consider... Shush. The note was laid on the table next to him and she disappeared out of the room.
It read, "Good bye, James. I wish this could have been different." The last sentence was ambiguous and no explanation was given.
She returned to her room once more. Leaving the dress turned inside-out in front of the bed. She didn't feel like picking them up. I'll do that in the morning... Night. Whatever. Her slender fingers played with the golden thread around her wrist. Pierre, why... We've caused so much pain and you leave me to handle them on my own. Anger flashed through her, but dissolved as quickly as it came. You courted me; you wanted me... Where are you now? A tear rolled from the corner of her eye into the pillow as gave the thread one last tug before hugging her chest and curling into a little ball under the covers. A cat, because it can meow at anyone and they would normally bend down and stroke it. It is never truly lonely. 
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:56 pm
 
He reached the second floor. Sniffing at the air like a predatory animal, he soon isolated the scent. Pierre slowly stalked toward the door, curling his fingers around the handle and gently pulling it open. It was there he saw a shape on the bed, huddled under covers that rose and fell with slow, emotional breathing. He remained still for a moment, drinking in all the flavors - sadness, fear, loneliness... It was a delightful banquet. His lips curved into a cruel and ravenous smile. With all the noise of rustling silk, he swept toward her. In rapid movement, he seized the covers and yanked them up, pinning the girl with lightning speed.
A deep hiss escaped his throat as his black eyes fixed upon the exposed flesh wherein the blood flowed warm and thick. In a rich and strange voice that seemed to twist around her and create a fog in her mind, he told her, "Do not fight me, ma petite. This will be over soon enough. Your death will bring me life anew," leaning in, he added in a sensual whisper, his lips grazing her collar bone, "It is a noble cause. Be proud."
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 6:43 am
"Pierre?" she whispered, sleepily and confused. "You're hurting me..." Your death will bring me life anew. "But why?" Everything seemed to be hazed and dream-like, swerving in front of her. Unreal. For a brief moment, she thought she could see the both of them from somewhere near the window. Jaime was crying, silently, and the golden thread seemed to glow with her psychological strain. Yet, Pierre didn't notice this. His eyes... were not his.
It is a noble cause. Be proud. He bit down on her collar bone; the force in which he did so threatened to crack it. The pain snapped her out of the delirium and she shrieked in pain - as loud as she possibly could. Her throat and vocal cords burned, but she tried again. The second scream seemed to be more as an alarm than a cry for help. I'm probably done for. Get out of here while you can, Mama... James. Take all the mortals with you. Just as she thought this, her mother appeared in the doorway - her hair flailing wildly about her and her eyes were black as coal, appearing to have infected the veins around them into turning dark and bulging. A firm hand grabbed at Pierre's shirt collar, attempting to pull him off of Jaime.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 6:59 am
A roar ripped from within him, sounding like a lion. He grabbed at the woman's arm, twisting until he felt the bone shatter. With blinding speed, he kicked her square in the chest, sending her flying backward. She stopped herself as if being caught by an unseen force. She thrust a hand forward and slammed it toward the ground. Pierre was pinned by his neck to the floor.
Anger surged through him; the last of his inner protection crumbled, and his power flooded into him once more. He stood with little effort and smashed the small table by the window with his gaze; he reached a hand toward her and the shards of splintered wood shot forward, pinning her to the far wall.
With a snarl, he was on her in an instant. "You will not meddle," he growled through clenched teeth. He returned his attention to Jaime, who had not moved from the bed.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 7:20 am
Jaime was frozen. Her cheeks felt stiff from the tears that tried and continued to wash over them, yet she made no sound and did not flinch. She felt helpless. If she had been turned when she requested it, she could have protected her; perhaps she could have prevented all of this. When he glanced her way, her mind went blank with fear and her psychological pain became tangible. Could he not feel that through their bond? Could he not see reason? She frowned and clenched her jaw, reaching for anything on the night stand and throwing it at Pierre in a desperate attempt to make him let go of her mother.
Anna grabbed at his thumb, bending it outwards to encourage release. She was strong, but he greatly outmatched her. Her eyes calmed as if she decided on her final resolve. "Get help! Run!" She croaked once under his grip. Jaime took a moment to respond, but made for the door as fast as she could. Anna thrust her nails into Pierre's throat, growling viciously at him. Every time before he countered, she would seek a new potentially vulnerable place to dig her fingers into. Her movements slowed as her strength depleted. As a final attempt to give her daughter a chance to escape, she snaked herself around him, holding him in the tightest lock she knew and using all the strength she had left; channeling her witch-hunt training and all the power she had drunk from her kills in the past. All this happened too quickly. Jaime seemed to have made almost no progress.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 7:30 am
He licked at it, tasting, and then clamped his mouth over it, drawing the blood out and swallowing greedily. A sharp blow struck him on his head, another landing on his ribs, lifting him off of Jaime and sending him sprawling to the side. James stood, towering above him, livid.
Pierre laughed quietly, taunting, blood rolling down his chin. They held their ground, Pierre still on the floor, but now coiled and ready to strike; James bent his knees slightly, bracing for impact. The air was still, charged and tense. Pierre sprang forward, but James was ready. He threw his weight into the Prince sending them both flying across the room and crashing through the window into the thick of trees below. They landed, locked in a tangle, struggling to gain the upper hand. The canopy was thick enough that it blocked the sun; there would be no interruption from flames.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 7:45 am
No, James. Leave him. Just let him get it over with and he'll leave the rest of you alone. She was too weak to speak. Her breathing was shallow and slow, and her vision threatened to blacken. They broke through the window before she could stop them, or at least try to do so. No. Don't... She choked once and allowed her head to turn. The movement pulled at the bleeding wound. Bones were sticking into her throat and, soon, she started to choke on her own blood. The last image she saw was of her mother, slumping against the wall, awkwardly, with her neck obviously snapped and splintered, and her eyes were open and unresponsive. They stared out in front of her, seeing nothing. She was gone. Jaime licked her lips, tasting blood and cringing inwardly at the stinging pain, and whispered an indiscernible and breathless "I am sorry" before blacking out.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:06 am
He tucked his legs to his chest and kicked James from him. At once, he was on him. Pierre had him pinned and sank his jaws around James's throat. He squeezed; it didn't take much pressure for the Prince to feel the crunch of hyoid cartilage and snap of muscle. He was soon rewarded with hot, rich blood gushing into his mouth. James struggled feebly for a moment, then lay still, gurgling and gasping as blood filled his lungs.
Pierre drank deeply, and with each gulp his hunger grew. Shouts surrounded him, hands pulled at him, but he held fast. Release him, commanded a voice in his head - Sir William. He obeyed, his animosity fading. His inner barriers returned, recalling his humanity. He looked upon James in horror as his friend begin to slip into shock. Sir William ordered him to be lifted and taken to the infirmary with Jaime; he dragged Pierre to his feet and steered him after the others. Jaime... Infirmary... I've killed her, he concluded, fear chilling him to his core. I've killed everyone I love...
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:10 am
The drone of a didgeridoo filled her ears. It chimed in with the wind and the roaring ocean. The cliff was high and the meadow around her was green and littered with white daisies. The questions ‘where am I?’ were vaguely floating in her mind, but not prominent enough to wonder about. Everything was numb and hazy. She felt empty, hurt and confused – like a huge chunk of her soul has been stripped away. A string instrument started somewhere with a slow, sombre melody. Her whole life she believed she was an orphan and sought out; craved kinship. Then she found Pierre, her Pierre, James and, finally, her mother. She was going to be happy. For once, everything was going to work out. What more could one ask for but a friend, a loving parent and a fiancé? She was going to start a family. Golden-haired children played on the beach in front of her, splashed each other with salt water and giggled and laughed and then disappeared. She was going to live an eternity with the people she loved and who loved her. She was going to be happy.
A figure emerged from the foam of the waves. She had white hair and looked ten times fairer than Jamie.
“Mama?”
The lady opened her arms. Jamie stormed down, running as fast as her legs could carry her, and enveloped her mother, bursting out in uncontrollable sobs. Anna didn’t speak. She only stroked her daughter’s hair, holding her tight to her bosom.
“What am I to do without you?” Jamie croaked.
Anna cupped her cheeks and smiled at her with such affection that seemed tangible in the air between them. “I’m proud of you. You’ve grown up so well and so brave. Be strong, my little flower, this pain will pass. For now, you must fulfill your duties as my heir. As for the Prince, follow your heart, but don’t leave your mind behind. Take the key I gave you, find what it unlocks and use it wisely. It will save many lives…”
“What purpose is there, Mama? Everything is gone. I wish he had killed me too.”
“Shh,” she wiped away a tear that trickled down the girl’s pale cheek. “No, don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. I will always be with you and - with that thought - you should go out and do good. The battle is not over yet. You came to love Ravenheart as a kingdom, being promised to become its queen, and you will save those people with or without royal status.”
Jamie nodded – a fresh shower of tears streaking down into her neck and dripping from her chin.
“Remember, I love you and I’m honoured to have you as a daughter.”
She hugged her mother close for one last time before she disappeared. Jamie opened her eyes. Her tears have dried and her voice stabilized.
“I’m ready,” she said aloud and the world around her started to swirl into darkness.
When she woke in the real world, she found herself in an infirmary. Everyone was in the room. She blinked. Her mother was not there. She dropped her head to the side. There was less pain this time. She was laying on a white bed, and on another beside her was James. His throat was ripped out and he was bleeding everywhere. His eyes were still open. Is he still alive? Please... She tried to sit up so she could have a better view and became aware of her situation: her collar bone ached, but it was no longer sticking into other vital parts, and the wound was the size of a regular surface wound. There were emptied vials on a small table nearby that carried traces of a deep ruby liquid. The entire room reeked of blood.
"Oh, god..." She covered her mouth and nose with her hand, appalled at the full sight of James' condition.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:24 am
Please, he pleaded with James silently. James slowly turned his head to look at Jaime, tears rolling from the corners of his eyes to mingle with the blood. He reached out a hand, but before he could touch his fingers to her hand, the light left his eyes. His bloody hand fell still and his empty eyes stared, but saw nothing.
Pierre continued to press his wrist over his mouth, clenching and unclenching his fist to draw more blood from himself, hoping and praying to every god he could name that it would work.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:36 am
The sight of Pierre sent a confusing shudder through her body - fear, relief, anguish - but she brushed this aside and sobered up. James tried to reach out to her. Tears traced his temples. This made her stomach churn even more. Men can cry? The thought was fleeting and she was up in a flash. She grabbed whatever pillows she could find and propped him up against it to create an angle for the fluid to run on. "Isn't there any more?" she panicked, but refused to look up at Pierre. "Swallow..."
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:50 am
* * *
Sir William gave Jaime a kind smile. "Don't worry. You're friend here is unique, strong," he placed a hand on James's shoulder. "It won't take him the full three days to return to us; I'd say he should be joining us by nightfall, so do not worry. He will be okay." He turned to glance at the silver door. "Please do not think so badly of Pierre. There is a power greater than you can imagine stripping away his humanity. He didn't know what he was doing; he was powerless and could do nothing about it." Quietly, "He's fine now. And I guarantee he is suffering for his deeds. Now... how are you feeling," Sir William asked with concern.
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Posted: Tue Nov 12, 2013 8:58 am
"I'm fine," she answered promptly; dismissively. "How far are we and when will we be arriving at the capital?" The word tasted bitter on her tongue.
"And who's blood is this?" She pointed to the vials that she assumed was used to heal her.
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