Title: Our Love Eternal
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: T
Pairing: You'll have to wait and see
Warning: Contains hints of mature themes but nothing graphic etc, and mentions of death
Disclaimer: Not mine. Yet.
Summary: The first time you held my hand, you were scared. I put my hand over yours, and told you not to worry.
Our Love Eternal
The first time you held my hand, you were scared.
We were facing a beast that had wandered onto the shores of Del, looking for food or a new place to dwell. Jasmine had been injured, and Lief was at her side, protecting her against further attack. Gers was unconscious somewhere behind us, having thrown himself into the fight without thinking – a typical Jalis. I automatically did what I had been brought up to do – protect the ones I care about, even if it means putting my own life at risk. I drew my sword, and stepped forward to fight. And then you slipped your hand into mine and held on tight. I turned to you for explanation, but the fear in your eyes was all the explanation I needed. You were scared that I'd get hurt. Scared that I might die. Scared to lose me. Seeing that fear only made me stronger. I squeezed your hand reassuringly, and flashed you a charming smile. Then I forced my hand from yours and turned to face the beast again.
You were so gentle when you bandaged my sword arm not long after.
You apologized when you pulled the bandage too tight.
I put my hand over yours, and told you not to worry.
*
The first time you hugged me, you were relieved.
A troop of overseas warriors had come to our land, hoping to overpower us and take what we had to offer back to their own lands. You were out of the city at the time, caught up in some other affair. I faced the troop without fear. I'd faced much worse in the past. They did not scare me. By the time you returned, the battle was won. I was in the infirmary, complaining to a nurse that I was perfectly fine, and trying to ignore Sharn's attempts to get me to lie down again. Lief and Jasmine hovered close by, clearly amused at the childish tantrum. You slammed through the door and rushed over to my bed, and smacked me – hard.
And then you hugged me.
Tightly, close to your chest, almost squeezing the life out of me.
You told me I was an idiot. A stupid, reckless idiot.
You checked my injuries, and I grinned at you.
You smacked me again. But you smiled back.
*
The first time you kissed me, you were drunk.
We were celebrating the engagement of Lief and Jasmine, all of us gathered together in one of the palace halls. We'd both spent most of the evening sipping wine casually and enjoying the light chatter of our friends, perfectly at ease. As the celebration continued, and night drew in, the fun began to escalate. Spirits were brought out, and many bottles were drained of their contents in a short amount of time. I lost count of the drinks we both had. All I remember is suddenly you were leaning against me, and arm around my shoulders, your face pressed against my neck. I laughed and shifted your weight, and you lifted your head so our faces were level.
I didn't expect you to lean forwards.
Didn't expect you to capture my lips with yours.
Definitely didn't expect the kiss to deepen.
The next morning, you acted like you didn't remember.
*
The second time you held my hand, you were concerned.
It was that time of the year again, and I'd stayed in my room all day. I didn't want to see anyone – no, I didn't want anyone to see me in the state I was in. I was the tower of strength to all our friends. I couldn't show weakness in front of them. You came to my room and threatened to kick down the door if I didn't let you in. You sat with me as I broke down.
You listened to me as I let it all out.
You ran a soothing hand up and down my back to comfort me.
You held my hand tightly as I cried.
Because you understand about loss.
*
The second time you hugged me, you were hurting.
I'd never seen you cry before. You told me that your memories were haunting you. Memories of a lost family, of a life of hardship, and of the despair you had to fight back over the years. You got angry, and slammed your fist into a solid brick wall. I knew it had hurt. Without even thinking, I grabbed you by the shoulders and tugged you forward.
It seemed right when I wrapped my arms around you.
It seemed perfect when you returned the embrace.
It felt right.
*
The second time you kissed me, you were hesitant.
You pulled away from our warm embrace, just enough to look at me. I saw many emotions swimming in your eyes, including confusion and worry. Your hands were shaking as you lifted them to my face, and I could tell you were both nervous and afraid. The first touch of our lips was soft, tentative, as though you expected me to push you away.
I didn't.
I never would.
This time there was no pretence.
*
The third time you held my hand, you were happy.
We'd gone for a walk, on our own, just outside the city. It was warm and bright, and peaceful, and you couldn't have looked happier. It was nice to get away from it all, you said, and spend time in the company of someone you cared for. You took my hand, almost shyly, and led me away into a small copse nearby. You sat down in the grass and pulled me down with you, and we sat in comfortable silence together.
You shuffled closed, and put your head on my shoulder.
Our fingers found each other, and linked together.
And you smiled.
*
The third time you hugged me, you were exhausted.
You'd been working hard all day, with hardly any break, and you needed to rest. You came looking for me, and found me outside on a bench, sitting quietly and enjoying the peace. You sat down beside me, yawning as you did so, and sighed. I reached across and stroked your face with the backs of my fingers, and you leant into the touch with a smile. I eased you closer, and you turned to face me properly.
You draped your legs over mine, and curled an arm around my waist.
Your head dropped onto my shoulder and you cuddled closer to me.
I didn't dare wake you when you fell asleep a moment later.
*
The third time you kissed me, it led to something more.
It began as an innocent brush of the lips, but both of us felt the lust and desire behind it. As though our minds were linked, we both acted upon that desire, and we took the kiss further, exploring each other in every possible way.
Our bodies fitted together perfectly.
Hands roamed, searched, teased.
Found. Touched. Experimented.
*
The first time you touched me, it sent shivers down my spine.
We were in the privacy of my room, clothes askew and hair ruffled by wandering hands. You kissed me again, and a hand snaked its way beneath my shirt. Your other hand soon followed. They were warm, and surprisingly soft. They traced patterns on my skin, their touch feather-light and teasing. I encouraged you with a low growl of pleasure in the back of my throat. You were amused at this, and explored my skin some more.
Your touch became firmer.
My shirt was discarded.
Yours followed next.
*
The first time you called my name, it drove me insane.
You were barely coherent by then. I was surprised you even remembered how to form the words you managed to gasp out now and then. Your head was thrown back, your eyes closed, jaw slack as you sucked in air and exhaled it in quick succession. Every sound you made pushed me further towards the edge.
And then you arched your back.
You screamed out my name.
And I toppled over that precipice.
*
The first time you told me you loved me, I was content.
You were snuggled up against me, head on my chest, one hand idly playing with a lock of my hair, the other tracing circles on my abdomen. Every now and then you would hum with content, listening to my heart beating away. It was quiet except for those beautiful sounds, and I felt myself slipping away into sleep when your hands ceased their actions and you shifted position to look at me.
And then you said it.
Those beautiful words.
I love you.
*
The fourth time you held my hand, I was asking you to marry me.
You hadn't been expecting it. We'd only just told people about our relationship, and people were still getting used to it. I told you I didn't want to wait any longer. I wanted to promise my life to you as soon as possible, before something came between us and shattered that promise before it was made. I was hoping you wanted the same thing.
I asked you to promise your life to me.
You smiled.
And said you would.
*
The fourth time you hugged me, we'd decided on the date.
It was to be as soon as possible. We agreed that neither of us was getting any younger, so why wait? Plans were made, suitable attire was sorted, and people were invited. We decided to follow tradition as closely as possible, and we agreed to spend twenty-four hours apart. You pulled me to you and kissed me, only quickly, and grinned at me.
I swept you up in my arms and held you close.
You returned the embrace with a laugh.
They had to pull us apart.
*
The fourth time you kissed me, we'd been declared married.
I will never forget that grin on your face as we turned to each other, fingers entwined together. You looked amazing, absolutely gorgeous. Our guests cheered and clapped as our lips met, and I pulled you into my arms.
There were a couple of laughs when I didn't let you go.
Then someone cleared their throat.
I made a promise to you to continue that kiss later.
*
The last time you held my hand, we were preparing for battle.
You stood by my side, weapon in hand, and turned to me, fear in your eyes. It reminded me of the first time you held my hand, but this time you were ten times more afraid. I grabbed your hand, but I could not give you a reassuring smile this time. You saw the fear in my own eyes, and you knew that nothing good would come from this battle.
Your hand was torn from mine as the enemy bore down on us.
That small shred of comfort was gone.
And I was even more afraid.
*
The last time you hugged me, you were crying.
The battle was over. The enemy had either fled or died in battle. Our side had suffered losses, too. People would be mourning for weeks, months, even years. King Lief and Queen Jasmine were safe, and we'd saved our people from being killed or enslaved by the enemy. It was a victory for Deltora. But it had come with a price.
You were hurt.
You were covered in blood.
And it was mine.
*
The last time you kissed me, I was dying.
My wounds were too great. Nothing but the Lilies of Life could save me, and it would take too long to check if their nectar was flowing free. There was nothing you could do to help, and it was killing you. You sat by my side, the tears falling from your eyes like crystal rivers, and I could barely lift a hand to brush them aside. I was growing weaker and weaker with every passing minute. I asked you to kiss me goodbye. You tried to tell me it wasn't goodbye, but you knew it was.
And so you leant down, and kissed me.
I don't remember the kiss ending.
That's when I died.
*
You cried for days.
Nothing was ever going to heal those wounds my death had caused. If I could feel pain, I would be torn apart by it – I felt solely responsible for your hurt. If only I had been stronger, perhaps I would not have let you down. We'd talked about growing old together. Now you would grow old alone. Without me. You sit by my grave every day, holding a single white rose in your hands. You don't care that the thorns are digging into your flesh.
Your blood stains the petals pink.
Your tears soak through the flower.
As it droops, you place it beside the marker, and touch your fingers to my name.
*
You will join me soon.
I knew it would be too much for you. You've lost so many people in the past, but you've always kept on going. Losing me was too hard. You couldn't keep on going this time. I wanted to reach out and touch you, pull you into my arms and comfort you. But I never could.
You left them a note.
You stared out into the night sky.
My name was the last word you ever spoke.
*
The first time you opened your eyes in this new world, you were lying in my arms.
I told you that you did a stupid thing. But then I told you I was glad you did, because we were together again. You felt bad for leaving behind our friends, but you couldn't stand another second without me. You held my hand, and hugged me, and then you kissed me. You told me again that you love me.
And I love you too, Jarred.
Author's Note: Yeah... This idea just wouldn't go away. Still can't believe I killed Barda. But he has his beloved with him now, so I guess it's okay... XD Oh, and I'd love to hear who you thought he was referring to throughout, before it was revealed that it was, in fact, Jarred. Putting aside the fact that I am well-known for Jarda, I was hoping that I left the other person ambigous enough for other interpretations. I was actually hoping it sounded like he was talking about Lindal (I'm sure she would act in a very similar way around Barda), so let me know if that's who you thought it was :P
- homesweethomicide13