New and Improved September 28th Addition !! ( Much more Inigo love . )
The darkened sky threatened to break loose with a storm. But the storm to come was nothing compared to the storm that was going on inside one, young, lonely sixteen year old Spaniard. Inigo slept for a few minutes at a time but the rain began to fall now making it impossible for the boy to stay dry. He grabbed the thin sheet that he had found on the street and placed it over his head. He closed his eyes once again but all he saw was his father falling at the sword of the very un-noble nobleman. He shut his eyes tighter but that only made the images clearer so he flicked them open. His body weary from walking hundreds of miles to try to find someone to teach him swordplay, his mind from trying to push away the image of that awful day, and his heart was full to the brim with emptiness.
Giulietta had no time for rest. She walked and broke into a jog every once in awhile. She didn't care how hard the rain pounded down on her she would continue until she was far away from the castle. Her brown-black hair rested on her shoulders, heavy from the rain water that consumed it. The rain allowed her to think clearer, even if her ability to see wasn't as clear.
Her father, last she knew, was in his room plotting up some great contraption that she couldn't even fathom. Her mother, she imagined, was already asleep in her silken ruby nightgown, a gift from her father. Giulietta had been feeling more alone then ever. Her mother had not been involved in her life at all. The only thing she ever remembered her mother teaching her was to journal. Giulietta kept her journal close to her in her corset. She had respected the use of a journal, writing down her every thought. She loved her mother very much but her real mother was Nanny March. March was strict but calm and understanding. Giulietta regretted leaving Nanny without a word but she couldn't take it anymore.
A girl of only fifteen, she had never been surer she was doing the right thing by going of on her own. Something or someone was calling to her and she could feel it. She thirsted for an ounce of adventure, a change in the routine life, even possibly love. So she walked the empty, sopping wet back streets; tickles of fear pricking her back as she could barely see a thing. She began to jog again for she thought she heard footsteps but as she slowed she found it was only her imagination. But the fact that she felt like she was falling was not her imagination. The cold wet stone hit the side of her face before she realized, she had tripped on her gown and hot, sticky blood was surrounding her head.
Inigo had not dared close his eyes any longer. He was very aware of his surroundings by now. He heard footsteps somewhere on the small cobbled road. Who would be dumb enough to be on the streets in this weather! Oh yeah… me He thought trying to smile a bit at his weak attempt at humor. But smiling was the last thing he could do. The footsteps stopped suddenly; interested now he uncovered his head to peer out. A black shape was on the ground a few blocks down the road. He sighed at his ever present curiosity and slowly got up; clenching the sword at his side. He stalked over to the figure on the ground, realizing now that it was a person… a girl. Gaining confidence he scanned the alley and walked faster, then more urgently as he saw that she was hurt. He bent down beside the figure and gently wiped away some of the dark hair plastered to her beautiful face. Knowing that the middle of a road is not the safest place to be lying on, he picked her up carried her to where he had a makeshift bed. It was simply some bundles of loose hay that Inigo had found while wandering the streets. He laid her down and took a look at the large gash on the side of her face.
"Now how'd you ge' that young lass?" He muttered. Inigo ripped off a bit of the sheet he was using for cover and blotted the blood off her face. The rain water made this task easier and to his surprise; her eyes fluttered a bit, then opened wide and full of fear
"Who are you? Please don't hurt me I'm just on my way home and I slipped and…" She lied. Inigo was taken aback by the sudden string of words and tears.
"Slow down… I jus' was getin' you off the street that's all miss. I'll be glad to walk you home." He smiled in the most sincere way he could manage but the pain from his father's death still held the corner's of his lips down.
"I-I uhh" She didn't know what to say. Might as well come clean, he did save me after all and he doesn't look too sinister. He's so skinny in fact I could take him myself She thought with an air of royal pride not knowing how very wrong she was.
"I'm not going home" She confessed with a small sigh.
"Oh well then tha's too bad. It jus' so happens I'm no' going home either" It was then that Giulietta realized who her rescuer was, silky Spanish accent, beautiful brown eyes. He was someone who she had been looking for all her life, someone who wiggled into her dreams every night. The voice of her ever persistent caller.
"Oh I see… have you run away as well?" She asked in a slightly flirtatious voice. He obviously didn't pick it up though.
"No… no' particularly. Ahh now must I go into the whole long story? At leas' tell me your name" She could oblige to this, after all she was pretty sure she'd be here awhile.
"Giulietta; and yours?" She decided to leave off the last name; after all she couldn't let him know she was a royal.
"Inigo Montoya" He smiled now with some satisfaction.
"Now as you were saying... Inigo?" She swooned.
"Well yes, I have run away of sorts, but with every intention to return you see. My father was slaughtered …" Inigo told every detail to this young lady, from the scars on his face to the sword at his side, Giulietta felt like she had known him all her life now. She sat and listened intently relishing in the valor of his deeds since his father's death and even more so in the melted honey quality of his voice and even more then that his handsome looks and blade thin body. She would never admit it even to herself but that was the night she fell madly in love with a total stranger.
"And I do believe you 'ave some story to tell now." He finished, a glow in his brown Spanish eyes.
"Yes indeed I do. My father is… servant in the castle" She must stop this lying somewhere but she still could not bring herself to tell him that she was the daughter of a count. In fact she had suspected him of holding something back as well so this made it all alright. Didn't it?
"My mother and father were so busy they would never have time for me. So I changed all that yesterday and snuck out of the castle." Inigo had never heard of someone wanting to be poor and homeless without a good reason, her father and mother must have been cruel. To a point he was correct.
"Would you… umm… like to stay with me for tonigh'? I'm afraid all I can offer are these haystacks bu…" She cut him off.
"Wait, I have money for a room." She remembered and pulled out a cloth bag from a pocket in her casual gown. She wiped away a loose strand of sopping wet hair and held out the bag with jingling coins inside. Giulietta shivered at the thought of sharing a bed with Inigo. He looked at the beautiful lady in front of him and the full pouch of money she held, and finally thought things were looking up for him. They had both long forgotten that it was raining…
Inigo woke up from a wonderful night's sleep in a room above an alehouse. He had been with Giulietta for three years now and was very used to her company. In truth he had grown to love her (there are understatements and huge understatements; that Inigo simply loved her was a huge understatement) and he suspected she felt the same. Something though was different; he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the light streaming in from the half-open window and searched the room. Not the slightest hint that anyone had been there other then himself. He was more then a little worried as he saw a note written on the table in shaky handwriting.
Inigo, my love, I'm so sorry I must leave you. I do so hope you avenge your father someday. I have left you some money… best wishes Giulietta
Inigo didn't care about the money, he felt defeated. He sat on the old wooden chair beside the table and carefully folded her note as if not looking at it would make it not true, as if she would come dancing through the door with fresh picked flowers in her hair. He found one last thing of hers lying on the table, a journal. Proof that she wasn't a ghost who followed him around for three years. He flipped open the simply decorated book. It felt like a huge invasion of privacy but he couldn't help it. He flipped to the last entry, it was written three days ago. In the fold of the book a ragged ripped edge, she had torn away the last few entries. What had she written that he could not read? Did she love another? Had she had… relations with another?
None of this sunk in, once more he was in despair… the state not the place.