- Stuff of Dreamers -

Aches

Deryn knows she should be happy. She knows she should be glad that her fiancé is well-off and high bred. Every girl in the country (but her) would gladly give up beauty, fortune, and love to be by his side. She was in a position of societal power and could use it to obtain any sort of means she wished. She would never use such a power, not unless necessary.

However, this discovery only annoyed her. She wanted a reason for this damn marriage to be happening. She had turned over all of the benefits, but none were quite the real reason. Yes, she was powerful, but not to make real decisions. Yes, she was considered the epitome of fashion and beauty, yet she never really liked seeing other women wear clothes identical to her own. Yes, she had more money than could fit inside her (rather large) closet, and she would never touch one pound of it.

She sighed as dinner (and her thoughts) came to an end. She wished she could deny the fact that the Earl of March (Ewan, he told her to call him) was handsome and kind. She wished she could rave in her letters to Dr. Barlow-Volger about how vulgar and decrepit the man was, but truthfully, he was no such thing. He was actually quite… amiable. They never fought, and when she thought they might finally break free from the friendly exterior they both painted on so well, he would rescind his bordering harsh words.

She wished only for him to be like the only other noble she knew. She wished for their relationship to take wing and to soar high, fueled by passion and arguments and love in the rain. She prayed to God every Sunday that the week would be the week, the week he would snap a harsh word and not say he was sorry. She begged Him to change Ewan's long curly blond mop into a short and straight russet-coloured coif. She woke each morning with an urge to see deep green and readable eyes at her table, instead finding light blue politician's eyes.

Deryn was cut off again from her thoughts as The Earl swept low to kiss her cheek in a farewell-for-the-night gesture. She was aware that he knew his way around women, and was pleased with the nothingness she felt at his chasteness.

As he hastened away, she opened the door to her chamber. Her writing desk was opened, as was the letter she had read earlier. She made her way over to the desk, and the soon to be Countess of March reread the parts she already knew by heart.

'…an addition in the family… My husband misses your wit… the Emperor hasn't shown in months…devastated... wants back… thinks… no chance… visits… I miss… happiness… remind me… marrying… stupid…miss… you and him… Love, Nora Barlow-Volger, scientist and future mummy'

Deryn sat aside the letter and began to compose her reply:

Dear Nora,

A baby! Or a new fabricated half-Beastie half- Machine that will scare your neighbors? I pray fondly for the first, but can expect either equally.

You tell Count Volger that he must visit me, as he is (gladly) not engaged to an Earl. Being so engaged I have discovered one of the many, many downsides to being Countess. Working. With people. Who know nothing of the sky or war. Blighters.

As for the Emperor. Well, I'll address him later. He is my most important rant, and that is, as you know, always my last.

The Earl of March is not an unkind fellow. He deserves to be happy, and claims that I make him so. It is my duty to be a responsible grown-up and do something advantageous for my family. Not that marrying Alek wouldn't have been advantageous, just not as advantageous. What sort of marriage would help my family from out of the country? Not a good one.

However, I have unfortunately realized that I must soon die. There is no way to make myself happy here, and our missing Emperor will never want me back, despite your claims. He is convinced of his love only in his country, and very rarely is he sure of that. After the war, we both need someone who is stable. Neither of us can promise the other not to break their hearts. My heart is still so broken and it's been nearly a year. He may be in equal or worse shape, but the best recovery is to move on. No matter that I wish he would come tromping up the steps of my large home (estate, castle, etc.) on my wedding day and demand that I be released. He must get over the pain he feels as I wish to get over mine. I want to like the man that I am soon to marry. But I also want that man to be Alek. I want to be as crazy and in love and broken as I was once. When I was in battle, I wanted nothing more than to live in the sky and to be elated and happy forever. Now, I'd risk the air and the happiness to be crying in the arms of the one who made me cry.

One thing this entire ordeal has taught me: the heart aches for heartache and will settle for nothing less.

Um... WTF? This is odd and slightly repetitive and I don't think I got what I wanted across very well.

The basic storyline is -

- Alek and Deryn end the war. Alek named Emperor. Alek and Deryn form a post-war relationship in the mind that they both saw horrible things and they could get through them together.

- Deryn and Alek split. She wishes not to be in contact with him after she realizes her feelings are still there.

- Sometime after, she meets the Earl of March. He 'woo's her. He proposes. She grudginly accepts.

- Alek goes into 'working recluse'. Or so he calls it.

- Deryn wishes to be with Alek.

- Alek tells Dr. Barlow of his wishes to be with her.

- Deryn tells Dr. Barlow of her dreams to be with him and states that she would rather him come storming up and sweep her away on her wedding day.

Tada. Not brilliant. It was much deeper in my mind. Idek.

Oddly enough, this ENTIRE thing was the product of listening to Taylor Swift.