|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:13 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:14 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:15 am
Chetticamp rolled her eyes at her sister Alma, she was being overly dramatic as she sometime was wont to be. Her sister meant well enough, but sometimes she was just…so…She didn’t even know the words.
Their grandfather was in his booze again. Her mother had told them that he had loved and lost someone dear to him. It was hard to think of him that way—as loving some dear girl who left him.
He’d never found her, her mother had told her. Never. But he had heard word that she was dead, dead and gone. He had wept and he had never been the same again.
Until recently, she had never stayed with her grandfather much—never saw the need to stay about him. But her mother thought it would do her grandfather some good to have family around him. But so far it had not.
And here she was fetching her grandfather more vodka from Sascha. While Sascha was fetching a bottle, she looked around this section of the cave. It was dark, lots of shadows. There were few other ponies here until he came him.
His body glowed in a odd light. It took her a moment to see the hint of purple bones that glowed across his skin. There was blood on his wings, bright though it was not fresh.
He smirked at her across the way,his purple eyes glowing.
“I see you’ve got a spine,” she smiled back at him.
He nodded to Sascha, “A glass of wine for the lady.” His eyes looked towards her, “I haven’t seen you around.”
“I’ve not been here long, but I had no idea you were looking. I might have come sooner.”
His eyes searched hers, “You remind me of someone.”
“Does that line work often?”
“Perhaps, but that’s not what I meant.” He looked her over again, “Perhaps I’m wrong.”
“Perhaps,” she shrugged and took her first drink of wine. It felt sour in her mouth, but she took another. If her grandfather Inebar could do it—then so could she. Her cheeks blushed.
“Perhaps, we’ll meet again.” He smiled as he backed away.
“And perhaps not.” She didn’t watch him as he left.
She knew his name, from his description. She knew he was an associate of her grandfather—they often did deals together. Azrael, an archangel is what they called him.
She’d heard tales of him, of who he was and what he was and the things he had done. But none of that deterred her, instead it enamored her with him. It was her mother’s curse—this headstrongness.
He seemed as likely a man as any to play with, to be interested in. To chase and have fun with. There were worse games to play and this one.
She sipped the wine again before putting it down and grabbing up a bottle of vodka to take to her grandfather. When she reached him, he was sitting in his pool of water with large pained eyes and he was crying.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:15 am
He was older than her, she had learned by listening. Her sister Alma, ever the drama queen about certain things was not ever a drama queen about the things that mattered. Alma leaned close to her and whispered, “Azrael is apart of the Coven, led by Queen Aeronwen. It’s his friendship with our grandfather that’s forged an alliance between them. It’s not known what they’re conferring about or why he’s here, but his visits are to become more frequent.” She paused delicately, “Are you seeing him yet?”
“No,” Chetticamp blushed brightly. “We’re just doing reconnaissance for now.” She mulled over the words her sister had spoken. “He seems…interesting. I’d like to know more about him.”
“You should learn not to blush so much,” Alma countered. “You’ll give yourself away. Why do you even want to play this game. It’s not like you. This is the kind of thing I do, or Mary. But this isn’t you.”
“Maybe, I want to play them now. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe it means something to me now. Maybe I’m bored. Maybe…” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Being bored isn’t a good reason at all. This isn’t that kind of game. It’s not a game at all, not really. You should know that by now.”
“But you play it all the time Alma, liek it means nothing to you.”
Alma breathed deeply, “Because we both know it means nothing. He is nothing to me.”
“And if he is nothing to you, then why don’t I get to see him? If you don’t care.”
“You know grandfather, and father would tear his heart out if they knew. I’m protecting him.”
“I thought you didn’t care?” Chetticamp bumped her sister’s shoulder.
Alma changed the subject quickly. “When are you meeting him?”
Chetticamp sighed, “I haven’t made that arrangement yet.” She wasn’t sure how to ask, how to tell him she was interested. She closed her eyes wearily. “I don’t know what to do, how to ask him.”
“With your eyes,” she smiled at her sister. It was a warm thing, full of light and love. Alma’s hoof touched her face. “With your body, the way you talk to him. The way you move. If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t deserve you.”
Chetticamp kissed her sister’s head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You help me so much.”
“You probably wouldn’t get in as much trouble,” Alma laughed lightly. “So go get him. Find out if he’s interested. He should be unless he’s crazy.”
“Don’t make me blush more,” Chetticamp giggled.
“If he’s not deserving of you, I’ll make him pay myself.” Chetticamp didn’t doubt it. Her sister kept her promises well, but she wondered if she would see her sister’s lover—if he really did mean more to her than she let on. Or maybe she doesn’t know. Maybe she doesn’t and then why should she listen to her? If she dind’t know herself, how could she help her to know if she cared for Azrael?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:19 am
Azrael wasn’t sure what to think of the girl. He had found out her name but he had not sought any other information after her. It was part of the thrill of the hunt. Not that it was really a hunt at all, but it was. Women wanted to be sought after, engaged and loved. They liked to make you earn it. And he doubted this girl would be any different.
Her eyes had been beautiful, deep and kind. But there was mystery in there too. There was something about her that reminded him of someone else. But he could not place it.
“Inebar my friend, you drink too much. I know you’re a fish in water, but still. You’re going to drink yourself to an early grave about this girl?”
“So?” Inebar gulped another glass. “Have you heard any word of her? Have you learned nothing about her?”
“Nothing more than you have. It’s as though Nameera never lived.”
“But she did. And I died with her.”
“She might not be dead, you have to hope.” Azrael hated to see his friend in such dire mood. “There are other women too. You can love again.”
“Hope is false,” Inebar’s laugh was gutteral. “I cannot love another. It’s only her I love. I just need her, I don’t want to…I can’t…”
“Inebar, you have a family. If nothing else, there are those who you could live for. They mean something to you don’t they?”
“But what use am I to them like this?” He sighed. “Alma tries to shout me out of my stupor. Namaste cries and begs me, but Chetticamp holds my hoof and doesn’t speak of it.”
“Chetticamp?” Azrael’s face paled at the mention of the girl’s name.
“Yes, Chetticamp. My granddaughter. She’s a lot like me,” he sighed. “Leave me Azrael, let me be alone with my grief.”
Azrael left him feeling like he was a walking ghost. Chetticamp, the girl, he’d been flirting with was Inebar’s granddaughter. What kind of odd twist of fate was this? That this girl who he’d been starting to feel for would be someone he should not…could not be with?
Inebar would be angry, Inebar would hate him. But that was the old Inebar, the one who would laugh and smile not this hollow husk of a mer that was left. Maybe it would get him out of his stupor…even hate was better than his friend feeling nothing.
And Chetticamp, he didn’t want to give her up quite yet. She seemed…she seemed so extradionary. But for now, he wouldn’t speak of it. He would think on it before he acted rashly. There were so many things to be considered. So many.
He turned the corner sharply and she was there. “You,” his voice came out a hoarse whisper as her eyes glowed up at him. “You,” she whispered back at him before her lips touched his. He wasn’t ready for that, wasn’t ready for any of it. But he found his hooves winding their way into her hair.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:21 am
“We can’t keep meeting like this,” he kissed her hurriedly in his room. “The sun is coming up you can’t stay.”
But she wanted to, she didn’t want to hide it anymore. But it was thrilling keeping this to themselves, him to herself. It would be nice though to watch the sunrise with him. To talk with him while others were about, to kiss his lip or his cheek when others were looking. It would be nice to tell him that she truly loved him. Truly.
She had whispered it to him often in the dark as such things were whispered, but never once the sun came up. They had from sundown to sun-up to speak and love and be. Then the day brought them apart.
At night they talked of futures, of possibilities and during the day those faded away into vapour as impossibilities. She kissed him again, “I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t want you to either, but you know what your father would say. Your mother, Inebar.” He winced.
“’It was the nightengale and not the lark’,” her voice broke.”’Believe me, love, it was the nightingale’.”
Azrael blew out the candle and she could see the light streaking the sky. “We both know it’s not. I wish I could pretend it wasn’t. I wish pretending made it so, but we both know it’s the morning. Others are waking, you need to steal back to your bed before someone suspects.”
“When can we come clean?” She asked him, leaning against his chest hesistant to let go.
“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Now, tomorrow, next week. I don’t know when to tell them. I don’t know how to tell them. They’re not going to take it well. And things are bad now with the problems your sister is causing. We should wait till things are settled.”
“We should, but Mary…Mary may never settle now that she’s decided what she wants. She’s always been dark, more Inebar than my mother. Things may never settle and I cannot wait that long.”
“A month, a month is long enough. If things are not settled by then, we won’t wait a day longer. What do you think?”
She nestled her head closer to him. “I think it’s too long.” She bit her lip gently, “We don’t have that much time Azrael. We cannot hope to wait that long. I can’t hide it that long.”
“Our love?” He kissed her forehead smiling.
“Our babies,” she looked up into his eyes. It had been a discussion they’d had to begin with. They didn’t want any—not yet. They wanted time to themselves, to get to know each other. They had time, didn’t they. But they didn’t. Surprises happen.
“What?” His face was a mask of shock.
“I’m pregnant. I know we didn’t want to now, that we—”
“Babies,” his face lit up in a smile before he crushed her mouth to his in a kiss. She felt herself floating away into bliss.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 1:22 am
When the kiss finally ended, Chetticamp was flustered. “How long have you known?” He asked her.
“Two weeks,” she blushed. “Well, I mean I’ve known a week, but I thought maybe…two weeks ago. But I didn’t know how to tell you or what you’d think. It’s not what we had planned. And—”
“My children are as old as you, I know. However could you care for an old man like me?” He kissed her again. “I’m not upset. I’m happy. I mean…I want this.”
“You do?” Chetticamp felt breathless.
“Do you still want me? Do you want this?” His eyes were searching hers.
“Yes, I do. But how do we tell, when do we tell.” She sighed and sat down on the bed. “They’re really not going to take this well.”
Azrael sat down beside her. “Let’s keep it to ourselves for now then. We don’t have to tell just yet. We’ll figure it out.”
Chetticamp kissed him again before she finally left to her room. She knew how much he loved her, how different he was with her than others. Finally, she understood how her father could love one woman and be wrecked when she wasn’t there with him. If Azrael was gone…If something happened to him…she would fall to pieces.
Is this what it felt like to be tied to someone in ways others couldn’t understand? To love them, love them past all reason or hope or anything?
She found her way into her room and crawled into her bed beside her sister. Alma rolled over sleepily, “You okay, cupcake?”
“Yeah, but I wish I had cupcakes right about now. Go make some,” she nudged her playfully.
“It’s too early, just because you come home with the sun doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Her voice paused for a moment, “Any more news of Mary?”
Chetticamp pulled the covers up higher. “No, just the same thing. Looking for people she shouldn’t. Missing people, other horrible rumours.”
“But who is she working for? She’s got to be helping someone.”
“I know, but…we just don’t know.” Mary had left months ago, and her family had not stopped hearing news of how Mary was amassing an army or the terrible things she did. Mary, Mary quite contrary.
“I don’t think we can save her Chet,” Alma stroked her hair. “Not this time. Her heart is too dark and we can’t share the blame, we can’t shield her. Maybe we shouldnt’ have before. Maybe it’s our fault, because we loved her too too much.”
“No, love isn’t a fault. I can’t believe that. There’s good left in her, I know it.”
“Go to sleep Chet,” Alma yawned and rolled back over. “We’re going to need our strength in these coming days. It’s only going to get worse.”
The words hung in the air like a threat or a warning, but for the truth they bore they might have as well been a prophesy.
Mary Celeste’s rise to power had just begun.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:00 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:01 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:01 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:03 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:04 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:12 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:13 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:15 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
