Come Closer #14

All of this trouble for the item that was rightfully her mother's? Annika was extremely irritated. She had traversed endless rooms and walkways, not to mention having to battle Hollowmen every few minutes, and the "relic" turned out to be her mother's music box?

Annika jotted this down in her journal and was not in the least embarrassed to mention that she was angry that she had destroyed dozens of Hollowmen and wandered about with no clear direction in this huge cavernous place just to retrieve an item that probably should have been stored in the Castle to begin with!

Of course it hadn't helped matters any that during her time in the bowels of the Academy she had attempted to use the rifle that Logan had given her to see if she could rest her weary sword arm. It seemed as if shooting a target not too far off should have been a simple matter.

It wasn't. A single Hollowman was no further than fifty feet when she first began firing. And missing. And firing again. And missing again. Finally the creature slapped the weapon from her hands and she was forced to roll to one side and grasp her sword.

When it was destroyed she put the rifle away. She would have to speak to Walter about this embarrassing turn of events. Why hadn't he taught her a single thing about shooting? She had had to fumble to figure out how to turn off the safety feature, and then she hadn't expected the recoil of the weapon that now undoubtedly would leave a large ugly bruise on her shoulder. And how, when the stupid corpse was so close, did she miss every shot?

Unless shooting was simply not something she was able to do.

"Nonsense!" she said out loud, sitting on the top stair of the door leading to the Academy Proper. "It's Walter's fault. He only taught me how to use a sword! Logan did all he could with sword training also, and hand to hand combat."

Poopsie whined in agreement.

She was aware that she was possibly making excuses for Logan, but still, if she was honest, she reasoned, Walter was her mentor. Logan had done so much else for her. How could she expect him to train her in everything? Besides that, she was supposed to be Logan's nemesis on her odyssey as Hero. It was nothing less than incredibly generous of him to have done all he did for her, not to mention wondrously loving. He had prepared her physically, mentally, philosophically, and emotionally as much as he was able. And he loved her unconditionally every moment. Everything he did, even knowing what he knew, was borne of his fathomless love for her.

She thought of his gifts. The weapons and the clothing. The gold that surely had cost the treasury dearly! And oh, the gifts from his own body! Annika's eyes watered in loving remembrance. This man would not hesitate to give his own life for her. He would, she had no doubt, slit his own throat before her, naked and on his knees, if she asked him to.

Before she could give in to the sobs that the pain of being apart from him caused her, she forced her mind to other matters. Logan would not want her to collapse. Not now. Perhaps at her private home, but never where an enemy could be near and take advantage of her vulnerability.

Now, think of shooting as a necessary addition to her skills, she told herself.

Perhaps Walter had a teacher in mind and they simply hadn't encountered him or her yet. Or, Walter hadn't thought of ranged weapons at all because he himself never used them.

That hadn't occurred to her before. Now that she reflected on it, she had never seen Walter ever carry a gun of any sort; only his favourite sword. Well, she would think more on all this later. She had Sabine's precious "relic" as proof of her Hero status. It was time to leave this wretched place.

"All right, boy, let's tell Samuel that we're all done here and head home to the Lodge. We deserve a rest after the day we've had."

The Doberman nuzzled her cheek and licked her gratefully. Annika laughed.

"I'm glad you agree! Let's go! I've had enough for one day."

As it turned out, she and her furry friend did not return to the Lodge. Annika pawned the 'treasures' she had collected on her way to the Relic and was stunned to see that she had enough money from those gems and odd coins alone to buy a house! She found one that was called "Bumbler's Gruff" and told Jasper to purchase it at once.

Without waiting, as there were no current tenants, Annika and Poopsie went inside. What she found surprised her. Not only was the house spacious, but there was an entire room on the lower level that was obviously once a schoolhouse. There were dusty children's school desks and old bookshelves with good quality books that hadn't seen use for years.

A quick count revealed twenty desks and more than enough text books. So, she mused, there was once a school here. Why was it closed? Was it because Logan had closed the Academy? But that didn't make sense. She tried to reason this through. And then she had a theory.

The Academy was plainly for adults. The books were far too sophisticated for children. The people of Brightwall complained of the poor economy. And, if Annika remembered correctly, the previous owner of this house was now a stall vendor named Donna. Donna was elderly and likely had to retire from teaching; that or else she had not made enough coin as a teacher to make a comfortable living for herself. As the stall vendor who now sold beer and spirits, she made a far better living, and now resided comfortably in a nicer home near the Academy.

So, to make a favourable impression in Brightwall, if she could reopen the school and make the fees for the pupils affordable, she would be well on her way to winning over the support of this village and its most respected citizen, Samuel.

But who could she find to teach? Donna likely would not care to take up her old profession again.

"Miss?" Jasper's voice spoke through the Guild Seal. "Can I help you? I hear you murmuring to yourself. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Jasper!" she cried out happily, for once glad to have her thoughts interrupted, "indeed you can! This house once was a school for the children here. I want to refurbish this place and find someone to teach. And then I want to arrange affordable fees for the parents of the children who could learn here. Do you have any ideas?"

Jasper, to her surprise, didn't even hesitate. "Indeed I do, Your Highness. The person who readily comes to mind is Saul at the Academy. He's spent years cataloging and studying. Next to Samuel, he is the most educated citizen in Brightwall. If I'm correct, Mrs. Donna Kelley will not be inclined to return to her former occupation as school mistress."

"No, she won't," Annika said. "She's making good coin as a stall vendor and has a much better house. I hadn't thought of Saul! Besides, he would only have to teach a few hours a day. He needn't leave all his studying at the Academy behind! But I have to have a plan for reasonable student fees and pay for Saul. And..."

"And also make some money from the endeavour?"

"Yes, Jasper. I don't need to make much, but I do want to make something. Do you think that is possible?"

"I'll visit the dwelling soon and make my assessment, Miss. I think it can be done."

Annika sighed with relief. "Thank you, Jasper! You are truly indispensable!"

She could swear she felt the old man swell with pride.

"Well," he said, clearly pleased, "I do my best to please."

"Thank you! I'm going to examine the upper level now. I'll talk to you later, Jasper!"

The old butler took the hint and ceased communication. What Annika found upstairs was quite a surprise. The entirety of the two rooms were filled with paintings. They weren't the paintings she was accustomed to seeing, as many people had the same portraits of royals or the same landscapes of Old Albion. No, these were beautiful newer works of how Brightwall looked now. She recognized the Academy, the woods nearby, even the tavern. And...yes! There was Samuel as a younger man!

Donna Kelley was quite the surprise! She was not only an educated woman, but a talented painter of both landscapes and people.

Annika suddenly had an idea.

"Miss?" Jasper said as Annika appeared in the Sanctuary. "Do you remember how you asked me if there was something in the 'Book of Heroes' about sending gifts via the shelves, besides receiving them?"

Annika sucked in her breath. "Yes?"

Jasper smiled at her enthusiasm. "Well, I've found a way. All you need to do is place the item on any shelf and recite the words, 'From this Sanctuary I send this item to the one for which it is intended.' And, according to the book, it will appear in the recipient's private chambers."

"Absolutely perfect!" Annika breathed. "Jasper, I have commissioned a very special portrait for my brother. It is for his eyes only, and what you discovered is perfect!" She rushed to her beloved butler and threw her arms about his neck and pressed a kiss to his wrinkled cheek. "You are wonderful!"

"Well," Jasper said, blushing as he smiled, "I'm pleased that you are so happy! I haven't seen you smile for days."

She laughed. "You're right. I've been very busy and very tense. This is good news for me, Jasper. I don't feel cut off from home altogether now."

"I have more good news for you, Miss," Jasper said, "and I'm sure it will please you equally as well!"

"Do tell!" the Princess cried out, clapping her hands. She was still delighted by her 'special' commission and that she had the means to send it to Logan! What more could Jasper say to cheer her even further?

"I have used some of the spare coin, and not much was needed, to prepare the school room for proper use. I also went to the Academy and submitted our proposal that he become the school master. He was only too delighted to accept. He only wants a modest salary, as he resides in the Academy and does not need to pay for lodgings. The both of us then asked Samuel to approach the citizens about the idea and held a meeting at the Academy Garden."

He stopped speaking and flashed Annika a smug smile.

"Well?" she pressed eagerly, playing his game.

"And...we've come to an agreement on student fees that every parent in Brightwall can afford! And since Saul's salary is so modest and you own the building, you will begin to see profits within four months!"

"Four months?" Annika gasped. "That's...amazing! How is that possible?"

"The home and its furnishings are in better condition than you had at first estimated, Your Majesty. The costs of improving the dwelling were minimal and the texts are all up to date. Well, all save the histories, but Saul informed me that he will lecture from a favourite book of his from the Academy and the children can take notes."

"So the school can open soon?"

"As soon as you like, Miss."

Annika was so delighted that she squealed like a young girl. She hugged the old butler again, and this time he not only smiled and returned her hug, but blushed in pride and, of course, affection for his young charge.

Finally, all his damnable appointments for the day were finished. Logan was in a foul mood as he went to the Map Table. Weeks had passed and he had been able to see Annika at the Dweller Camp and then at Brightwall. He was relieved that she was safe, but was frustrated that she was staying there for so long.

He sighed. Undoubtedly she was investing the coin in profitable ventures and gaining support from the village. He also noticed that she made no move to reopen the Academy. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Of course she would understand why. He hadn't enjoyed closing the place their mother had founded, but to keep order in Albion, the less inflammatory literature in the hands of the populace, at least for now, the better.

Still, he had fears that Annika would hear and be surrounded by the malcontent that he could see in the clouded areas of Albion. Would she one day be influenced by the talk, opinions, and ignorance of what the People did not, and could not, know? Would she, one day, despite her best intentions, begin to perceive him as the rest of Albion did? As a tyrant with no true care, thought, or reason for his actions?

Then her purple-gold glow disappeared from the Map and he saw her flash to the Lodge. Because he had promised her that she would be safe from all eyes including his, he did not allow the Map Table to show what room she was in or for how long. He could only know she was there if he saw the brief glow of her Instant Travel or the fact that she did not have her purple-gold signature anywhere else in Albion.

Logan allowed his exhausted body to slump over the table for a moment. At least his Annika was safe for another day. He never knew from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, if she would be in a battle or a situation that would...

No! For what had to be at least the thousandth time, he refused to even consider the possibility that anything dire would happen to her.

He suddenly straightened and headed to their...no, for now...his bed. His lonely bed. This was one night he didn't have to do any tedious paperwork. Hells, he paid that toady Willoughby plenty; he could handle it.

Logan nodded curtly to the guards outside his chambers and entered. Just as he closed the door behind him he saw that his bed was not empty. Of course he wished that what was atop it was his Annika, but this was the next best thing. It was obviously a gift from her! She must have learned how to send him gifts via the Sanctuary shelves. The large rectangular package in the centre of his bed was wrapped in purple and had over a dozen red roses and purple irises atop it.

Logan quickly shed his heavy chest plate and cape and rushed to the bed as eager as a boy. What had she sent him? By the gods, he didn't truly care! Anything from his precious Annika would be a balm to his constantly aching heart.

The King carefully took one rose and inhaled deeply. Was it his desperate imagination, or did it smell more of Annika than it did itself? He tore open his shirt and pressed the rose over his heart. Finding the largest thorn, Logan pierced the flesh over his now rapidly beating heart. Not satisfied until he knew the puncture would scar, he pushed and twisted the painful thorn until he sensed that he could move on to make another.

He took another rose and this time pierced a spot on his left forearm. Rose after rose, until all twelve were used, Logan did not lay the last aside until he had bleeding wounds all over his forearms and chest. He wanted, needed, and craved these small scars.

Was he truly sick in his mind? Perhaps. But somehow blood-letting for Annika even if she did not know of it soothed him. He felt as if he were offering his life's blood to her. He also hoped that this offer would be seen by the gods as the truest love and devotion and perhaps they would bestow some protection on her as she traveled the road of the Hero.

Logan forced aside his anticipation of the gift until his wounds stopped bleeding. The moment the last of the punctures began to close he tore the purple wrapping off the box and threw the lid across the room in his haste to behold the gift inside.

And the gift inside was well worth waiting for. Of course the moment his eyes fell on the nude form of his Annika they also ascertained the fact that the artist was female. Annika surely knew that if she had commissioned a male artist that he would send assassins after him at once to dispose of him posthaste.

Logan seized the frame, his hungry eyes devouring every detail of his beloved's body. Annika sat on the corner of a bed, her legs spread. She gazed at him coyly with her green eyes beckoning him closer. Her full breasts made his mouth begin to water when he saw how hard her nipples were. They were dusky rose-red and the peaks were prominent. In fact, they were so prominent that he remembered how they felt in his mouth when he swirled his tongue around them, and how Annika shrieked in pleasure when he tugged on them firmly with his teeth.

His Annika didn't mind that her nipples were constantly sore from his attentions; in fact, she insisted that he wasn't properly satisfying her if they weren't sore the following morning.

Her long red curls cascaded over her breasts, but revealed more than they concealed. And her hands...oh, her hands! She had decided to exquisitely torture him by coving her sex with them! Her eyes held the 'come hither' expression he so adored, but the placement of her hands emoted a sense of shyness. Or...teasing? Regardless, Logan felt his knees go weak and was glad he could immediately seat himself on his bed.

He stared unabashedly at the portrait. He couldn't help but try to catch a peek of the feminine petals of flesh just below her fingers. Ah...there was a glimpse! It was small, but it was there.

Logan's cock swelled so rapidly that he was relieved that the guards were outside the room rather than inside. Besides, if any of them laid eyes on this intimate gift he would have to have them executed. No man other than himself would ever behold her beauty.

Where could he place this gift? No maid would be permitted to see it when his room was dusted and cleaned daily. And then he knew. He had a dressing room that was forbidden to everyone save his valet, and even his valet only entered when Logan specifically requested him to.

And, as luck would have it, there was a chaise in his dressing room on which he could recline as he...enjoyed her portrait.

In fact, he decided, now was a perfect time.