Hey everyone,
well here is what we all have waited for since the first chapter. I hope it lives up to expectations!
Enjoy!
"I don't want to hear it anymore" I said. Maria was still frozen in place, almost like she wanted to ask for help but didn't dare. I hated what I was saying but it was too late now. I had realized too many things last night. The most important being that I deserved better. This relationship was doomed from the very start. If we fixed things now, we would still only have four nights left, then I would have to leave. It would be nice but the heartbreak would start all over and I was tired of feeling pain.
"I know." How could his words still hurt so much? Would I forever be defenseless against him? I wanted our broken relationship to turn into a shield but it seemed it had only become more of a bridge. He was so resigned to what I had done, he wasn't trying anymore. Disappointment filled my entire being. I wanted one of us to keep hope and somehow make the impossible happen. I guess those were a little girls dreams. "I know you don't want to know anything about me anymore and I understand why. You feel betrayed and even if I feel the same way I don't want to part enemies with you. I don't want goodbye to be tinted with the bitterness of this fight. Please."
I must admit I was taken aback by his maturity. He was hurt, his voice made it clear but he was honoring what we had by letting me read him in this last attempt to find peace one last time. I wished I could find a way to tell him to leave, find an excuse before he could be great and make me regret everything and throw caution out a window. And then there was how he had ended his statement. 'Please' he said. This was important to him too, I guess love doesn't leave in just one day, even when pain is clouding it.
I nodded lightly but he was concentrated on me enough to notice. He smiled sadly and sat in the arm rest of one of the couches. I wanted to laugh: even when he had the means to be a perfectly civilized person, he let his wild side take over. He played by his own rules and I realized that was one of the things I loved the most about him: how real and raw he was. I took his cue and came further in but refused to sit. I didn't want this to be comfortable, didn't want this to turn into a moment between the two of us. Not sitting kept a wall between us.
Perhaps what came next hurt than anything else. He didn't cock his head to the side, nor did he snort in that discreet way that indicated that, even if he wasn't completely opening up, he soon would. His face remained stoic, all sharp angles and harsh eyes. He would let me read him only in key moments. His arms were lax on the side of his body, resting on his knees like this had no importance. He had propped one of his feet on the couch's cushion with his leg bent. He was owning the space, making it clear he was in control. Except that it wasn't true, he wasn't in control but his risen walls forced him to pretend, even with me.
I felt like the warmth he always gave each room had left completely.
"My lady, surely..." started Maria only to be silences when Blade turned to her slowly with his cold, unfeeling eyes. She yelped a little and staggered back only to brush Myra and scream. The guards outside the door were immediately knocking and turning the knob to enter. Panic filled me as I saw the young men and wolf tense, as if preparing to fight their way out. I realized how tenuous this situation truly was, how much added danger he had put himself in. I wished that didn't make my heart race so much. However, I had to act.
"Maria, how clumsy you are. Come stand back up, you still have to finish helping me out of my dress." I called out loudly enough to make it believable. The door stopped opening immediately. No guard would enter a Lady's room when she was changing. It would cost them their job and life.
"Lady Maucin, are you alright?" asked the guards. I smiled a little. It had worked. With my affirmative a couple of steps were heard, meaning they had gone back to their posts. I turned to Maria with fire in my eyes.
"Be quiet." I demanded harshly. I couldn't risk it and was in no mood to be gentle. Thoughts were racing in my head too fast for curtesy. She paled even more when she realized she was stuck here with no one on her side. She retreated to a corner, almost like that would protect her instead of caging her. I shook my head and turned back to Blade. His body was still taunt. He was scared but hadn't left yet. He truly wanted to make things right. I almost told him to leave. Instead, I waited.
"I never lied" he started; it was almost an insult at this point. Hadn't he promised truth? "I just hid some parts but it's all true. The war that took my father did happen, but it was so far away from here the news didn't reach Narnia. I'm not sure how to explain it, it sounds like madness even to me and I lived it. I wasn't born here. I was born in a place called Finchley in England. I know the names sound foreign and it's normal. I'm… I'm from another world." at this point he shook his head and bent his head before throwing it back with a mocking smile. He was making fun of his own story. I didn't speak. I didn't judge either. I decided to let him finish before I did. "Aslan, it sounds so crazy but it's true. And before you think I'm a magician or something to have come here I have to tell you, I'm not. The war got so bad all and so violent in the cities all children were evacuated to the countryside, so we'd be safe. Me and my sibling went to this old professor's house and found an old wardrobe. Somehow, instead of it having a back side it had a gate to Narnia."
My reason wanted to scoff and burst out laughing. Another world to which you enter through a wardrobe. What a ridiculous concept. Yet, I didn't, for I knew that Blade was a great liar. If he was making it up, he would be much better at it. He wasn't expecting me to believe it, either. He was getting it off his chest. I knew that whatever my judgement was he would find peace in having done what he could to make it better.
I was still warry, thought. He was stalling for time. Avoiding the question that brought up all of this. Who was he? Where was the confession he had engaged to give me? Or was it just a game to him? I found myself angry at the thought.
"You are still not answering. If this is just a scheme…" I accused, pursing my lips in a bothered fashion to accompany my narrowed eyes. Whatever warmth had retuned to him left. He looked disappointed maybe because I had caught him, but that didn't seem right to me. No, I knew him. He was disappointed I was acting like his efforts were something I had the right to, instead of cherishing them. I wanted to act less petty but couldn't find it in myself.
"Fine. If you only want the details of that part that is all you get." His tone was upset, annoyed. I knew I deserved better than this hard edges he wouldn't stop showing. Yet, I still didn't want anything different. Why was love so hard and confusing? I was so busy doing this that his voice startled me when it sounded again. "My name is Edmund Brian Pevensie. People here call me The Just King."
My head stopped like I had just hit a wall. He hadn't bothered to soften the blow. His expression left no room for doubt: he was angry. Being cynic was the way he was protecting himself from the pain of my harshness. I wanted that to matter but it didn't. Not now, at least. My head started working again slowly, like a horse taking speed to gallop. I had kissed King Edmund. I had admitted my love to him. For mercy's sake, I had seen him half naked and cuddled with him in that state. I blushed harder than I ever thought I could at the thought. I truly wanted this not to matter, I wanted his title to just be a fact we could ignore when we were together but I couldn't. I couldn't be the girl to look past titles and I hated it. This was important, very much so.
A part of me had known he was nobleman for days now, but there was a difference between that and having blue blood. Last night I had admitted to myself that I knew his character, but this secret was important. Now, I was realizing how important it really was. I had fantasized with a King taking me as his wife with King Peter but such a thing felt wrong when it came to his brother.
Worse of all was knowing that a part of me already knew this. Queen Lucy had been right, there was a reason King Edmund had earned my loyalty and trust: I had been talking with him every night since I came here, falling in love day by day. His advice had made me trust him, had made me believe he would only try his best by people. Why else would I have been so offended on his behalf? I knew this already but a part of me had refused to see it. It made things much simpler not to see this.
The truth was this made me a criminal. He'd been lying to his people and guests and by getting me involved, he had made me his accomplice. Of course, he was the law in this place and one of the queens had encouraged this secret rendezvous. I had half the monarchs on my side but the other half was much more influential, especially King Peter, whose anger I had learned not to underestimate. He was so desperate to know of his brother, surely if he was to know I had been involved with him all this time he would lose his temper like he had before. His siblings kept saying he was truly a great person but I couldn't completely believe it. He'd proven to me that a lot of that opinion was myth or love. Nothing else.
I took a glance at the man, the liar to whom I had given my heart. He looked unbothered, if anything when our eyes made contact, he arched his brow as if daring me to do or say anything. He looked like the man I had run form on the first night, warnings flashing all around him. I hated it and I hated how much his coldness let things fall into place. The Dark King they called him all around the world, Blade he'd been nicknamed. Danger surrounded his figure and he'd worked hard to maintain that image, even he admitted it. He wanted people to expect nothing from him, acted like it was the only way to be free to do what must be done. His family's defenses fell flat when confronted with the reality of how much he wished for this.
He was a warrior, a ghost story for his talent with his swords. He'd become a synonym of a death threat to anyone who'd see him come to their home.
And somehow… Somehow this was all wrong.
Could a monster like that love poetry or cry at summer plays? Could he take pity on a girl and change his entire behavior because she needed advice? Could he hold someone with the tenderness he had gifted me with? Could he defend his friends and loved one with the fervor he protected them with? The answer seemed simple enough. No. A part of this was a lie and I had no problem seeing which. Rumors were toxic things, made to fuel the mind of the dramatic, but I knew what I lived was true.
He was a good man, a sweet person who used his existing edges, increased them to keep at bay those that could hurt him. He knew he would forever be judged over mistakes he'd made ten years ago and learned to fear them. Worse was that if how he behaved, how he spoke of his relationship with his siblings before it had all happened, he truly believed that it was that mistake that had redeemed himself. He'd been hurt, beaten by people when he was young, told he was unwanted, his father had been taken form him at a young age and he was till blamed for all the wrong that happened in his country. How could the world be so cruel?
How could I be cruel enough to believe it? I looked at him, payed him the attention this conversation deserved. His jaw was tense, it was almost invisible but it was there, his eyes were lightly sunken and had dark circles around them. He clearly hadn't slept at all. He was trying to look impassive but was failing at it. His left upper lip kept twitching slightly upwards. He was nervous, awaiting. After a couple minutes I realized he wasn't even swallowing for fear it would be interpreted as weakness. His mask had been carefully crafted for all of those that didn't know him.
I wasn't part of them.
"Why are you hiding then? Your brother hates that he drove you away, your sisters are grieving you, your people miss you. Why hide?" I asked him. He looked extremely guilty when hearing this. I had seen with my own eyes how close the monarchs were, how Queen Lucy couldn't go ten minutes without mentioning him. they loved one another even if the past was tinted with a relationship in which they only cared by obligation. There was no way he could put it all aside, leave behind the people he cared so deeply about. I knew there was a war raging on but he could have told his siblings where he was, write letters. If he didn't want to come back that was alright. He had work to do but here had to be more.
"Why would I answer that?" his tone was cold, harsh. I didn't fall for it. The slight tremor in his voice could be interpreted as anger. It wasn't. Knowing I had him scared of trusting me again hurt. Seeing the child he hid with his edges in the echoes of his pronunciation stung even worse. "You made it clear you only wanted to know my official name; you don't get more than that now." I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his stubbornness, his pride. Knowing pain was fueling them didn't excuse them, not completely at least.
I wanted to throw it at his face, how rude and inconsiderate he was acting, how this wouldn't make us part friends, instead it would create distance if we weren't real now that we had the chance but something stopped me. It came as a whisper, turning into screams in my head. 'You said I wasn't better than you, but you are constantly acting like you are better than me. I don't care about your family or your name. Those are just accessories.' He'd said when he trusted me with his nickname.
Was I acting that way again? Ever since he came into the room, I had only allowed myself to think that I was completely in the right. That he owed me everything. I was asking of him things he never asked for. Giving them was something I did willingly. He'd made it clear from the start that he wasn't planning reciprocating everything I did for him and I had accepted it. Maybe I hadn't seen the depts it would go to but I had been warned.
Why did I ignore all notices?
And yet, even if he could be harsh, he wasn't a bad man. The moment I needed help he'd done his best to help me, he'd forgone the distance he'd implemented and ignored his friends warnings to stay away from me. He had been trying, opening up bit by bit. Why couldn't I make that matter?
Knowing that a fight always had two parties, both of which were guilty of something, wasn't helping either. Not listening, ignoring the other's persons feelings was the most childlike attitude there was. I was entitled to pain, to my feelings, but so was he. If only my heart would accept that. Why couldn't I live with the fact that he made a mistake that he was trying to fix, that he was making a huge effort and putting himself in danger just so he could get to me?
I kept saying I deserved better and in some aspects I did. I deserved someone who wouldn't act like a locked chest all the time. I deserved someone who would trust me with his name and be completely honest with me. I deserved to be able to trust him with anything.
Instead I had gotten a man that was wiling to risk his life for me. A man that could cam me down when I was attacking him because of the other aspects of my life. A man that taught me not be scared to stand up for myself. A man that looked past my titles and bothered with the person beneath it all. A man that trusted me with state secrets and advised me in personal matters. A man that shared his secret places with me to give me some comfort. A man that let the child in me come out and reciprocated that trust.
It was time to decide which mattered most.
"I said what you asked for. If that's all and I think it is I will be taking my leave." It seemed he was done waiting. I didn0t know how long I had been stuck in my head but I knew I wasn't quick at all. The moment of choice was now. He was standing up; Myra was walking away from the door making sure to brush against his leg like a cat would to show him some support. He was turning toward my armor, leaving one last time.
What mattered most: love or anger? Him, me or us?
"Wait!" I yelled and reached for him. I was expecting him to flinch, to pull away. He didn't. it was the first comfort of the night. He wasn't turning around, neither was he walking away. It was my turn to play, my choice. Of course, my mind chose that moment to fail me, blank completely and leave me like a fish out of water. I knew time was running out, that he wouldn't wait forever. Then, why couldn't I form any coherent thoughts? Why couldn't I choose or react or even stall for time? I knew the answer. I was scared, terrified of screwing something up somehow. What didn't I want to screw however, I couldn't figure out. "Please, I…" I couldn't get my mouth to work.
"If you have something to say, just do it." His harden tone wasn't fooling me. If he truly wanted to go, he could have gotten free of my week grasp and left already. Even Myra knew that it wasn't over. She had sat down next to him, was looking at me with angry curiosity but not making any move to leave or keep me away. I tried to from a sentence, ended up babbling. I think I was about to achieve it when he turned around. His face was dampened by tears, his eyes puffy and his lower lip was doing a weird shape because he was biting the inside of it. He looked wrecked, heartbroken if a little angry. He looked like I felt. "Please, let me just close this cycle before it can hurt more."
The child in him had come out. Vulnerable and real, he was asking for the closure we both knew we could never really have. My mind was made instantly. Nothing could overpower him, his laugh, his weakness, even his edges. I loved him and if we were to be star-crossed lovers, then so be it. I would enjoy every second.
"Don't close the cycle." I told him and I could see hope battling his other feelings, being crushed by years of it being nothing but another way of getting hurt. I was reminded once again of the child that hid in him; of the pain he had endured. "Let's give us another chance."
I could see doubt in him, the pain that still lingered in him holding him back. The walls he had built around him were thick and the entrance I had dug in the past days had been filled with gravel, not strong enough for him not to feel the vibrations, but bulky enough not to let him trust me. Part of me knew that I couldn't get things back to what they were, I couldn't fix this with just two sentences. My eyes were pleading, and no matter how hard he was trying to keep me away he found himself hopeless to them.
"I don't know. You did all this, was the first to walk out because you felt you couldn't trust me. I feel the same way right now. You've told me secrets but your actions are not something I can rely on and that scares me. I don't want the pain to go on." I guess that was the moment I truly realized how I had hurt him. I had done the opposite to him. he knew my name, my words but I hadn't shown him any actions that could show him who I was beyond what I had already lived. We had played the two sides of the coin. Had hurt each other in the same fashion, only with different pretexts.
We were victims of each other.
"I'm sorry" I told him. he looked down with something that looked almost like disappointment in his features. Pain is a funny emotions: it turns into so many more of them in the blink of an eye. Yet, it remained, eating you up until you let it go. "I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't trust me. actually, I didn't care how you felt. I got stuck in my head, in my own feelings and forgot that you were involved too. It's just… Blade, this is huge. You are King Edmund and as much as I want to forgo titles I can't. I'm not that person. Much less when your title makes me a criminal in this situation. If your brother was to find out I did this he would look for vengeance. I'm sure of it. You put me in a hard place. And as much as I know I can trust your actions I couldn't go on loving a man that wouldn't recognize our relationship by giving me a name to refer to. You hurt me, badly." I couldn't pinpoint the moment I started crying. But now rivers ran down my face as I admitted this to him and his face shifted to guilt once more.
"I never wanted you to feel like I wasn't admitting you, like you didn't have that importance. I knew you couldn't let titles fall away easily and eventually that started mattering more than the danger of you knowing who I truly was. I didn't want thing to change. I know it was selfish but I couldn't stop myself. The idea of you leaving was just horrible. I'm really sorry, I guess it came out the other way." I nodded, accepted his apology with a smile. I was hoping he would return it but he didn't. There was more in his head, I knew that. Question was if would say it. I wanted to help but I didn't know if my help was welcome. I felt like I had been thrown to the past, to several nights ago when I was afraid of making any contact with him. No, I couldn't let it end like this. This was our last shot and I wouldn't let it fly away so soon.
My hand reached for his, took it lightly. His sharp inhale told me so much. He wasn't expecting this, he wouldn't let himself hope. And then was how surprised he'd been, perhaps he hadn't understood my forgiveness form my smile. Most of all, I saw he was affected by it like only a lover's touch can affect someone. It seemed the walls had thinned. Maybe this was the right way, I sure hoped so. His eyes were altering between our joined hands and my face. He looked doubtful, scared.
"Blade…" I started. Stopped. This wasn't right, I could feel it. I knew what I had to do and took a leap of faith he would accept it. "Edmund." His name, the reality of who he was and of his amends, tasted sweet in my mouth. Suddenly everything seemed more real. He must have felt it too because his eyes finally locked with mine. There was no barrier left there, just raw emotions I was a little afraid of decoding. "I know you are doubting but please, look at me. I'm here. You can trust me. Let us give each other a second chance. Let me prove you wrong like you proved me wrong. I know I can trust you, let me show you can do the same with me." His eyes shone with tears he was trying to hold back now. He wanted to be strong. Knew that anywhere else that was his duty. "You don't have to be strong with me. Please, talk to me. let me help you."
The damp broke, he sobbed in the worse way, those dry sobs that showed how broken a soul really was. The tears stayed in his eyes but the pain was out in the open. "I just don't want to keep going like this. Every time I trust someone something between us goes wrong and I end up hurting them. And whenever I do it, I have to be the bad guy because the Dark King can only bring pain. People refuse to see the scars and I know I worked towards this reputation; I know it's needed but sometimes it's too heavy. I feel so alone." I brought him close to me, hugged him as he sobbed in my shoulders. Myra was enveloping his legs with her tail, her own kind of hug that made the smallest spark of respect be reborn inside of me. most would have whispered sweet nothings in his ear, reassured him with lies. I didn't, knew it was useless against the pain he had harbored for so long. He'd let it fester in his eyes until it became too much.
The contrast with my own actions was huge and for once when seeing that difference I didn't admire him or wished to be more like him. this was so unhealthy, so cruel to himself. I knew he would do anything for others, that he thought it was the only way to right his mistakes but self-destructing like this wasn't the way. "I don't want to be alone anymore." He admitted in the dark, protected by people who refused to judge him.
"You're not. I'm here and I'm not leaving." That was a lie. I had few nights left in this country of wonders but I wouldn't leave him behind. I knew that with the security that my name was Ariana. If I had to hide on the day we were supposed to leave until he could somehow come and get me I would.
This man had been broken by the judgement of others. It was the reason he'd become just, he refused to do to others what had been done to him. He'd taken the option of a bigger man. He'd let resentment fly away, accepted to be belittled, all so others could be better off. He deserved better but wouldn't fight for himself. I would have to do that and I swore I would.
"My love look at me." It took him some time to do so. His frame, strong and angled looked devastated. I hated it and still felt glad he could be this way with him. When our eyes met, I cradled his face, tried to show him how much he would always mean to me. "You are not alone. You want actions that prove how much I care about you, I promise you will get them."