DISCLAIMER: I do not own PD and/or its characters, they belong for the most part to Meg Cabot and Disney. I get nothing from this but satisfaction, and am responsible for this storyline only.
TITLE: Not A Word (one-shot)
AUTHOR: crtjester
CATAGORY: C&J Romance
RATING: FRT
SUMMARY: An afternoon stroll in the garden with the newly married C&J. An in depth look at how they read each other, and the strength of their love for one another.
WARNINGS: Kissage, very mild implied sexual content.
This is dedicated to my friend queenjewels, consider it a welcome home present. (I'm finally past the disclaimer!)
Not A Word
He did not have to say a word, only raise his arm to her, and await for her response. Joseph stood on the large, square ceramic tiles that made their way well into the maze of flowers behind the palace. It was the first day of summer, and the sun was well into the sky as he beckoned his new wife to walk with him.
The sun cast a marvelous ray upon her face as she stepped outside, by his side, and took his arm. Joseph couldn't help but fall in love once again, looking into her smile and warm soul. Indeed, she was beautiful inside and out.
Joseph waited for her to take the first step, following just a hair behind her, allowing himself the opportunity to see her from this vantage point whenever he so desired. He desired so more often than not these days, and with their wedding only weeks behind them now, he was able to grant his desires in the public's view. It felt good, so good, to be able to look at her as he wished. It was entirely a new concept for him, but he was adjusting to it nicely.
The clicking of her heels was the only sound as they slowly made their way down the path, surrounded by the budding of new roses, the air sweet with them. He watched her inhale deeply and noticed how it soothed her soul. She delighted in the mass of flowers, from deep red roses to bright yellow freesias. To her they were all natural wonders.
They had walked this path a million times together, yet today seemed like the first. Joseph couldn't help but compare one natural beauty with another. Indeed, she was by far the most beautiful. Yet they were both frail, both colorful, both soft and sweet. They both thrived in the warm air, and they were both at their best as the fresh morning dew fell. When the night came, both folded themselves for rest, under the same expanse of the dark, star filled sky.
Clarisse had never felt so alive before, never so loved in her entire life. Being out here with him, with her Joseph, and being able to love him freely had given her a new lease on life. She knew he was watching her, and she marveled in the thought. It brought shivers to her body, and nothing had ever seemed so erotic to her before. Amongst the flowers, Clarisse was fully aware of all of her senses.
She knew what he was thinking, she need not ask what was on his mind. Today he was grateful for just being her husband, being able to walk with her through the gardens, being able to hold her hand as they strolled along. It was a new feeling to her as well. A new feeling for an old tradition. They had turned over a new leaf, and had done it together.
The splashing of the fountain covered the clicking of her heels as they approached. The cherub clearly happy to see them once again, poured rain upon the earth below. A quick streaming shower to revive it, with light, cold water droplets that condensed upon the cement surrounding it. She squeezed his hand, feeling the rough outer skin, but needing and loving the softness inside. They stood together watching the water recycle through the fountain, amazed that such a hard, wet statue could be softened into something so romantic.
He let her set the pace, holding onto her hand lightly, teasing her palm with his thumb. Speaking would be useless. His body responded at the swaying of her hips, the gentle flowing of her skirt about her. She brought him alive, in tune to his every nerve, his every fiber of being. Clarisse had managed to wrap herself around him like the vines of a morning glory, tightly holding him in her splendor, bringing him to light with her every morning as they made love.
The lilies and the orchids, they had nothing to compare with her. Though as their creator had made them equally special, Clarisse was above any flower. Turning the corner, the hedges hid the fountain, replacing it's splendor and mystery with a mass of tiny white flowers; mignonettes. Clearly a Genovian royal flower, though modest in appearance. Its fragrance was delightful, and was often placed throughout the palace. Such was the fate of its name, as it was placed in the palace also. A long line of Queens carried the name Mignonette.
The day was so bright, so full of wonder and amazement, so alive with life. She loved him, more than that life itself. The timid and shy smile that came across her face he was sure to notice, and Joseph would know, he'd know what she was thinking. Maybe not the exact words, but he would know the general idea. He knew her so well. As well as she knew the pathways here, and as well as she knew when to expect certain blooms. Joseph was a part of her, and she a part of him. Neither could be separated now. She had imagined that surly when one died, the other would follow within minutes.
Just leisurely strolling together in the midday sun, Clarisse and Joseph held onto each other, depending on the other for their life sustaining qualities. She guided him, as she always had, and he followed, being the over protector of sorts. That would never change. It was too good, it was their way, it was giving each other the best of themselves. It was all implied in the simple steps they took together, in the holding of hands, in the air that passed between them.
Nothing could have been more perfect. The sun proclaimed its light, the earth announced its wonders, and the couple professed their undying love, all in the silence that was as loud as their heartbeats. The breeze carried the air between them, around them, through them, tying it all together like string. A string made into a perfect bow, a Christmas bow maybe, for within them both they gave the other the greatest of gifts.
She tried to concentrate on their names, but it was of no use. His name was the one on the end of her tongue. It would be the only one she could have actually pronounced then. Yet she knew them all, their names and when they were planted, and any story that were behind them. He was but a mere half step behind her, she recalled. He would be watching her. He would be watching the sun reflect off of her hair. He would be eyeing her skirt swinging with the movement of her hips. He would be watching, admiring her legs as they moved beneath her. Then counting the freckles upon the skin of her neck, knowing that sometime today or early in the morning, his lips would come across them, worshipping each one as he spiraled pure pleasure through her body. Yes, he was thinking of it now.
Stepping across the wooden arch of a bridge, Clarisse twirled her fingers with his. Their fingers tickling as leisurely as their walking. They would never let go again. It was all in the touch. Every promise to be together forever, every will to be at each others side; it was right there, stimulating every nerve in their fingertips. They were both beyond any sixth sense, beyond any funny feelings. They were a part of each other. It was that simple. What one was thinking, the other knew.
The hedges clearly trimmed to a Queen's delight, Joseph stood in awe as he looked upon the shrubbery. It was so precisely squared. She had made sure they were perfect. Perfect like her. So straight and tall. So inviting. Yes, they had her traits as well. He loved them.
Though their time in the garden was coming to an end, their love would endure forever. Joseph knew it was tea time, and he had gotten quite use to that time as well. It was a time for small talk, a time for laughter, for just the two of them. It was unlike now, now when no words were necessary to speak to one another, to convey an emotion or feeling. The path was coming round to the place where it had began, where it had all began for them.
Before they stepped over another tile, Joseph knew what he had to do. He slowed her, stopping next to the cushioned bench, and sat her down. Taking two steps behind her, he reached for the flower, plucking it from the stem. Returning, he got down on bended knee and presented her with the brightly fuchsia colored everlasting.
As she accepted his immortal gift, her eyes became teary. She knew what he was saying. Though their time here and on Earth together may be short, their souls would forever be binded. It was true, and the most beautiful of gifts she had ever received. Placing a gentle kiss to his lips, Clarisse sat and looked deep into the windows to his soul. Deep inside, she saw herself.
Rising, he again took her hand and let her lead him back inside. Back inside to the 'normal' world. Back to where most people listen with only their ears. Back to where the air is clouded with noise. Where the earth houses the ill tempered and contrary. Where love is only a four letter word. Clarisse held tight to the everlasting, knowing exactly in what book it would be pressed. It would be there to remind both of them of their need for nothing but each other.