A/N: There needs to be a movie made for this book. Seriously. I was just going flipping through it today looking for when Bea tells Daniel she loves him – because I swear she does. *remembers it vividly* But I couldn't find it. I got lost in the Julian/Penelope tragedy again, and omg – how awful. I got so swept up in it that I made a fanfiction website dedicated to tSotW fanfiction! XD Haha. Can you believe it? I just…*sigh* I know none of you have read this book (supposing there are people actually reading this story) and I so desperately want to speak and fanfic with peeps that have. It's hard having to explain all these things…lol. I realized I had a few details misplaced in this fic too, that had to do with before my fic started, so I adjusted those. Oh man though…so tragic. *almost can't handle it* Oh, and in the book Miquel & Julian hardly talk during the week. Miquel doesn't learn about Julian & Penelope being siblings until years later, and Jorge like…doesn't speak to them at all. I'm pretty sure he's nonexistent to his sister as well, so I've created all that, and other minor adjustments too I think. Heh. Not as tragic and more hopeful for things to work out if I put some communication in there, I figure. XD Also, I'm like 100% sure Penelope had no relationship with her father. Lol. Omg. It's all so awful. *shudders* It's one thing when they mention what happened in the book, but when they go back and have the dialogue and emotions and…*shudders* but I'm getting to caught up in it already. XD Haha! On with the story. *clears throat* I had a whole plan typed out for what I'd be writing when, but since I have one or two reviews these days (if I'm lucky), I figure I'd just write whatever. Heh. I'm more inspired for tSotW fics now anyways. XD
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It's: www . theshadowofthewindfanfiction . webs . com (without the spaces, heh)
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Ch.3—Lies That Kill
The quiet creak of the door turned his mother's head towards him. He should have known the quiet, abused woman would be alerted at even the slightest sound. There she sat, rubbing her fingers lightly over the dark bruises resting on her wrists, no doubt from his father – or was he now?
"Julian," she breathed, watching as he slowly made his way into the room. She got up instantly and went to him but he led her back to where she sat on her bed. He took one of her hands and intertwined it with his own. "You're hardly home anymore, Julian," she swallowed hard, running head through the thick locks resting on the top of his head. He sighed, nodding. "You spend all your wretched time at the Aldaya's place," she chuckled lightly, cupping his face with the palm of her hand and forcing his vision to rest on hers.
"Mother…" he sighed, biting his lip and looking away. Her eyes looked on at his face, searching for the answer to his woes.
"What have you done?" she asked suddenly, and he lifted his eyes to her. There was no possible way she could have known, unless Miquel had told her. He didn't doubt now if he had. He had told her he'd gone to see his mother after all.
"I'm sorry," he hung his head in shame. Her eyes closed tight and a few tears seeped out. Julian felt guilt and hatred towards himself consume him as he heard the quiet sobs his mother released. She pulled him to her and cradled his head in the dark shadows of her neck. He could feel the speed of her heart rate go up, and the scars beneath her dress sped across his skin as she moved him to a more comfortable position against her.
"You must get away. You must leave. We both must." She brought his head up to look at her again, saddened by his sorrowful eyes as he certainly must have been as well. For what felt an eternity Julian just sat and looked into his mother's desperate worried eyes.
"I will," he broke the silence, an assurance flooding his face though he wondered if his promise would convince her, because it did not convince himself. "You needn't worry about me mother," he nodded. "I'll be all right." She shook her head, seeming to not believe it.
"Your father, Jorge's father—"
"I know," he said, cutting her off. Her eyes flashed to his. A new expression shone on her face, that of surprise and fear. She had only told one other person what the two men were planning, and she had told him other things too. She wondered if her son knew. "I'll leave soon," he promised, not for a moment considering telling her about the trip to Paris. He had told Penelope to keep it to herself, to tell no one, lest they be tracked down and punished for their rash behavior. He would not be hypocrite to their secret affair.
"Julian, do you…know?" she asked, hesitantly, hoping that if he didn't know he wouldn't beg her to tell him in curiosity and possible security measures. She had kept it hidden from him for seventeen years, at least five since he had first met Penelope Aldaya.
"Tell me it's not true," he commanded, his tone soft, his acceptance only existent on the basis of her confirmation of what he feared could be true. She turned away from him and noticed how his fingers suddenly clenched tighter on the sheet of the bed.
"Julian…" she reached her hand towards him, but he backed away, slowly coming to a standing position just inches from the bed, his eyes glued to the floor. She swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn't run off, knowing she would if she'd just been told the love of her life was her own flesh and blood. "We never thought you two would meet."
He sighed breathlessly, quiet sobs forming in his throat.
"I never expected to see Ricardo Aldaya again. He almost—"
Julian cleared his throat louder than she spoke, and her watery eyes collided with his as soon as he braved removing his stare from the wooden floor and back on his mother's. It felt as though he couldn't breathe, as if everything was being ripped away from him and soon he would die and it wouldn't matter. Though everything, every fact, every angered authority and even friend, threatened to tear them apart, he could not find it in himself to let her go.
"Where is—"
Sophie Carax closed her eyes in the sadness so palpable in that very room.
"He's in the hat shop," she said, her eyes flicking back to her son. She noticed as he nodded, his gaze pinned back to the floor. She wondered if he would ever move. He seemed so incredibly lost and helpless and all she wanted to do was hold him and tell him all the truths she had finally revealed were not true and just an old fable to get him to leave sooner. How badly she wanted to believe that were the case.
"I—I have to go," he said, his eyes barely raising to half-way up her neck as he backed out of the room. Fear filled her eyes, knowing he was hardly safe anywhere because of all that had happened. If he left now, she didn't know if he'd ever return. In part she would be grateful if he didn't return that night, knowing he wouldn't have to hear her screams his "father" would pull out of her in smacking her about the room, demanding food and proper fidelity in a marriage only he created problems for. She had not once in their entire marriage been unfaithful. It was just earlier in the wake of such an unsettling courtship that she was seduced by Ricardo Aldaya.
"Julian!" she called out, begging him to stay, hoping he would move past all this at least for the night as she lulled him to sleep with the songs she'd sung to him as a child. He did not stay though, and soon she wondered if she'd imagined the entire transaction. She prayed he would be safe and that somehow he would make it out alive, that her husband and her old lover would not drive Julian into darkness and death. She did not let herself dare think of the emotional trauma that might very well kill Julian and Penelope because of who they were and what they could not be. She would not wish this fate on anyone.
He didn't know how he got there. Quite honestly, it was probably the worst place he could have ended up. So much lie in danger for him here. But he could not make himself stay away. Shivering from the cold and the building heat bubbling up in his stomach, Julian Carax made it across the street and just in front of the Aldaya mansion. He knew Penelope had a window in her room, and though her room was on the third floor of the building, he still found himself analyzing the stone edges jutting out on the outer walls of the mansion, hoping one would prove safe and allow him access to her room.
It was too dangerous to attempt a walk-in straight through the front door. Mr. and Mrs. Aldaya might be sleeping, but either one or both were usually pretty light in how they slept, and with the scandal approaching the newspapers more each day, not a single maid besides the governess, Jacinta, would keep their lips sealed on his sudden and quite unexpected visit in the middle of the night. He couldn't count on her being the one to respond to his quiet, yet loud enough knock on the front door of the mansion. Despite the architecture of the building, Julian could not seem to find a way into the building. The closest balcony was at least two stories high, and he was not an athletic individual.
Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled away by the back collar of his jacket and led into the darker shadows on the far side of the building. He panicked, tears pricking at his eyes. He feared for his life, truly believing that it was Mr. Aldaya who may have been on the look-out for the boy who had taken his daughter's innocence away and who would destroy his business, and thus his entire family.
Julian's feet backed up hastily as he was pulled away, afraid he would be beaten up sore and killed on the spot if he did not keep up with the speed at which he was ripped from his wavering station just outside Penelope's window. Very abruptly he was slammed into a hidden crook of the stone wall. He waited with his eyes squeezed shut for the first blow and was surprised when it never came.
"Open your eyes, you idiot," came the sudden command. It belonged to a voice he was familiar with and Julian's eyes snapped open, widening with relief at his great fortune.
"Jorge," he choked. The boy just looked at him, analyzing every shift of degree in the motions on his face. Julian could not tell what he was feeling. Jorge was always such the quiet type, or at least more distant than the rest of them, especially recently.
"Yes, and you're lucky it's not my father," he spat. Julian closed his eyes in shame and nodded, his chin tucking into his neck for a moment. He waited a painfully long time for the lecture he was sure would come, and maybe even the painful threat. When nothing came he looked up to see Jorge still analyzing him.
"She's been locked in her room since yesterday, crying throughout the entire day, and hardly sleeping at all. Only father and mother have a key to her room." Julian's eyes widened as Jorge's hand unfolded to reveal a single golden key. He gaped.
"You—?"
"No," he shook his head, "I wish I were that brave."
Julian gulped.
"It was Jacinta."
He nodded, understanding immediately.
"She knew you would come." He sighed. "Come with me. I know another way into the servant's entrance, a way that won't cause noise and won't alert anybody in the household except for the two of us. Maybe Penelope will be aware, but that is only because she is always waiting for you…" he trailed off. Julian swallowed hard, following after the boy that had hardly been his friend and now seemed more concern with his need to see her than the safety and security of his whole family.
"Jorge," he whispered, once they were just outside Penelope's door. "Why are y—"
He stood still, not giving him an answer, maybe even wondering if there was a reason for the compassion he had come to feel for his sister and Julian over the last few days. He lifted a hand for Julian to stop. His eyes shifted back to his and his own lips parted in a wavering sigh at the confused expression on his friend's face. "You don't have much time," he gestured towards the door and held out the key to him. "I'll come back when you have to leave."
Within moments, Jorge was gone, having faded into the shadows at the end of the hall. His eyes shone a bit in the darkness, but Julian moved past the distraction and confusion he felt and placed the key into the lock of the door leading into Penelope's room. He heard a breathy sigh when the door closed behind him. He gulped, seeing her crying, shaking form on the floor in the corner, her bed deserted. It was as if she could feel his presence now in the room, for it was not fear but astonishment in her eyes when she turned to look up at who stood just inside her doorway.
"J-Julian?" she gasped, as if wondering if he were truly real or just another of her dreams she had concocted in the two days past. He took another step towards her, almost afraid of what to do should it drive her mad and leave an impression of terror on them should they never see each other again – though Julian was determined this would not be the last of their meetings.
She ran to him and his fear vanished. He had thought just now that she would be mad at him for everything, for what they had done and what it had caused. But she was not in the slightest. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him for dear life. She was breathing harshly but her body was glued to him and she could not be moved. Though neither could he. He had feared he would never see her again, that he would never breathe in her glorious natural scent or feel the silk of her hair or gentle, angelic figure of her body beneath his fingertips.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed into him, gasping desperately for air, almost hyperventilating as she pushed herself closer than there was room for and dug her nails into his scalp and the skin on the back of his neck. "I thought I'd lost you."
She pulled her face back just a little and immediately latched her lips onto his, kissing him as if this were the last time, as if they had been parted forever when in reality it had just been a few days. He kissed her back with an equal if not more powerful fervor, their lips and teeth and tongue moving in and out at an incredible speed, grasping at each other's clothing to hold onto something that didn't seem to be truly existent, hadn't been since they'd last seen each other. They hadn't been whole, had been so broken since they'd last been together, and he truly felt he was more broken than she with all the knowledge that he knew.
"Penelope," he breathed, finally breaking away and leading her towards the bed. She shook her head at the location, memories from their first time swallowing her whole.
"No, Julian, we can't," she told him, avoiding his gaze. She desperately wanted to, but fear engulfed her for what had happened the last time they had indulged in such pleasure.
"No, I know. But you've cried in a corner for too long," he turned her head to face his and looked deep into her eyes. He pressed another kiss to her lips and sighed into him as if she'd finally found her relief and this would all she'd ever need every moment for the rest of her life.
"There is something I must tell you."
Her eyebrows furrowed as she sat beside him on the bed, trying her very best not to fear the very worst. Everything was beginning to unfold itself and she had been unable to feel anything but the worst since the night he had fled from her presence and into the cold darkness of Barcelona.
"What is it?" she asked, squeezing his hand tight.
"My father…and your father," he gulped, and she released her tight grip, now only smoothing her fingers over the back of his hand in small, delicate circles. "They're planning to send me into the army…and get me killed."
Her eyes widened in terror and her lips parted as she tried to hold back her tears, her agony. "Everything is caving in around us, Penelope," he told her. "I—I don't know what to do," he confessed. She sniffled, trying to maintain her sadness and be brave for him. She fell into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. There was so much he hadn't told her, but he couldn't bring himself to. He had faced the fear of her being mad, maybe even hating him, once that night and he could not bear to do it again. He brought her closer to him and laid them both on the warm comforter of her bed. In due time she fell asleep in his arms, and it was only by the soft knock on the door an hour later that he fully convinced himself he would need to leave.
It was painful removing her arms from around him, and turning her head away from in the crook of his neck to her cold long abandoned white pillows at the head of the bed. He kissed her softly on her forehead, cheek, and lips, also drifting down to her neck and collarbone, grateful for the small smile that adorned her features as he did so in her sleep. Then he draped a light blanket he'd found across the room over her beautiful figure. Pressing a final kiss to her hand and holding it close, he forced approaching tears to subside and he turned away from her towards the door.
He spotted Jorge watching him from the doorway, looking the most forlorn and mournful he'd ever seen him. He hadn't seen many emotions grace the features of Jorge Aldaya, but there was some comfort in the understanding he saw in his face now. The boy had started to feel a little of his sister's pain when he'd tried to comfort her some days before, but now it was as if he had experienced it himself, watching as Julian slept embraced in her and kissed her sweetly as if she were a porcelain doll. His concern for his sister, and for Julian, multiplied instantly in that moment.
Julian turned back once more to look at Penelope, as he always was now, that he would never see her again and his life would drown in the doubt and pain of what could never be. Her face had fallen back towards where he had been and her long dark eyelashes lay soft against her cheeks, just brushing the ivory skin that encapsulated all of her form. With one final intake of breath and hold-back of tears, he took it upon himself to close the door behind them since Jorge now seemed to mesmerized to do so.
"We're siblings," he said suddenly and Jorge looked at him, having finally been blocked from his sister's view. He was confused and couldn't comprehend.
"What?" he asked. Julian sighed wearily, afraid to look too deeply into Jorge's sad eyes.
"You, me, Penelope," he swallowed hard, his eyes flicked back to his friend's. "We're all siblings." Jorge gaped and turned his stare turning to the floor and his eyebrows narrowing in anger. His breaths became ragged and when he finally looked back at Julian he looked a blaze of fire.
"I couldn't tell her," Julian choked, and Jorge's eyes softened, sadness overtaking him again, now for all of them. "Will you tell her?"
Jorge's eyes widened, terrified at the task. "What?" he asked again, this time out of horror and defiance instead of confusion.
"I can't do it," he choked again, finding it harder to hold back sobs, "And if I leave her for good…" a tear slipped down the side of the face, "she needs to know it is not because I don't love her. I will not have lies told to her on my account."
Jorge nodded briefly, wearily accepting the task and not even noticing as Julian blew out the candle he held in his hand and made his way down the path they had come. By the time he returned to his bedroom, he saw Julian as only a speck of shadow at the far end of the block.
A/N: Hope you liked it! Lol. Again, you amazing peeps that are actually reading this are incredible. Thank-you, thank-you SO very much! =)
