They Danced Anyway
Chapter 4: Late at Night, She Dreams
She saw Joren standing on the edge of a grass-topped dune, his back to her, staring out at a roiling, frothing, stormy sea. Out beyond the sea was nothing, only a steel gray sky. She was standing far behind him, watching him like a hawk. He slowly turned around, as though he sensed her presence, but his path of view was over, above her head, and past...something she could not see. And she was frozen in place, unable to turn and see what it was Joren was looking at.
Many expressions flitted across his pale, pointed face, his hair flying about in the heavy winds. At first, he seemed irate, but then she could see a little confusion. And then panic. She desperately wanted to turn and see what it was he was so mixed up about, but she could only barely turn her head. She tried moving her hands, and her arms, for maybe she could pull out a weapon. She was able to move them-but nothing was attached to her belt. She was defenseless, and there was a possibly dangerous something right behind her. And then Joren called frantically to her. She could not quite make out what he said over the howling winds. It sounded like he was telling her to turn around.
"What?" she shouted back. At least her voice worked.
"Turn around! It's behind you!"
Now she understood what he was saying, but he didn't understand that she was trapped in her own body and could not move. "I can't!" she screamed. "I'm frozen! What's behind me?"
Joren ran towards her, fear in his icy blue eyes. She couldn't help thinking how unlike Joren it was to show fear or panic. When he reached her, he panted, "Keladry! I d-don't know what it is! It's coming towards you real fast!"
"I can't move! You have to help! I don't have any weapons!"
He glanced wordlessly at her belt, and then back at her, frustrated. "But-I can't. I can't fight it myself."
"You'll have to! What is it?"
"It's-it's..." Something slammed into her with incredible force from behind, knocking her face-first to the damp, cold, grassy ground. Sharp claws-or teeth-she didn't know which-dug into her shoulders. Whatever had just attacked her screamed and shrieked horribly, and she heard a distinct beating of wings. And then, a large, razor beak dug into her neck. A Stormwing.
"Joren-help-" she yelled, digging her fingers into the ground and trying to pull herself up.
She heard the harsh sound of steel being drawn, and then a loud clang of metal on metal. Joren was breathing hard, hacking at the Immortal, but it did not move from its position on her back, only shifting slightly, releasing her neck from its beak and grinding its claws further into her back. She bit back screams of pain, but heard another...a yell of pain. She squirmed, knowing that Joren had probably just been sliced by one of the Stormwing's sharp steel feathers. Her legs were still frozen in place, but she pushed her torso off the ground, her muscles flexing in her arms. She could feel the Immortal shifting its weight, trying to get a hold on her as she pushed her body to a kneeling position.
The clashing of metal paused for a second as Joren yelled if she was okay.
"Don't speak!" she told him. "Fight!" She was nearly upright now; but the Stormwing now stood on her shoulders. She felt as though she were sinking into the ground with its weight. And then, she felt the splatter of warm, dark blood. Joren must have slit the creature's throat, for much of it poured down upon her shoulders and neck, drenching her in the sticky black liquid. She delicately turned her neck, to see what Joren was doing. She could not see him anywhere, but she realized he was the one struggling to lift the Stormwing off of her back. Now that the weight was off of her, she was now kneeling, sitting back on her heels. "Thank you, Joren," she gasped.
He wordlessly walked so that he was standing in front of her, and she saw his large hand extended in front of her. She took it, and pulled herself to a standing position. He spoke then. "Are you hurt?" His voice was now cold and nonchalant again, sounding uncaring but for the question he had just asked her.
"Yes," she breathed, still feeling the stinging in the gouges the creature had made in her back and shoulders. Her ribs were probably bruised from her fall, so she could tell be the ache. She looked up at him. He stared once more at the sea, which had calmed down. Light showed through a bank of steadily lightening clouds, and the wind slowly died down to a whisper. Feeling came to her legs, and she stumbled, feeling the tingling sensation one feels after their leg has been numb for quite some time.
Joren caught her, and, wrapping her arm around his shoulder for support, he walked to her to the edge of the cliff. "You almost died," he said expressionlessly.
She said nothing, only stared at the gentle waves lapping at the sandy shore below. He turned her around to face him, looking into her eyes searchingly, and she wondered what was to happen next. His eyes were cold, unfeeling, and she thought that maybe he would try to finish the job the Stormwing had started, by throwing her off the cliff. But he pulled her closer, and closer, until their faces were almost uncomfortably close. What was going on? She asked, panicking. Her body went stiff again, but at her will. Now, they were pressed against each other, his arms about her waist. And she found she could not struggle, as he slowly touched his lips to hers. A fire seemed to rage in her, like a fever, in her cheeks and in her chest. Joren's eyes were closed now, and she shut hers as well, feeling a wave of passion-
"Mithros!" She bolted upright in the dark of her room, her sheets twisted painfully around her legs. She rubbed her forehead, and then sank slowly back down until her head hit her pillow. It was disturbing enough that she and Joren had just kissed, but worse, because she was the one who had dreamed about it! She was hot, sweating, and her lips seemed to burn, as though her dream had been real. "Me, having a dream about-about-Joren!" She muttered. The fire in her fireplace was down to a few glowing coals, and everything was silent and calm, except her. "What will be next?" she whispered to herself. "Daydreams? Blushing whenever I see him?" She was horrified with herself. "Mithros..."
She sank back into slumber, wondering vaguely in her head about her dream.
OKAY, OKAY! Who knows...this may or may not be the last chapter until August 5th, who knows. My mother is in a "Work my daughter to the bone" mood, and feels like making me practice piano twice a day, because god forbid, a piano at camp might be out of tune and won't sound as good! Dear god...And that's not counting the times I have to go to hour-and-a-half long sessions of Kung Fu, and then taking care of the pets of my neighbours who are away, and babysitting for various people...the list goes on and on. But wait! I'm forgetting 1:00 in the morning, when everyone but me, nocturnal me, is asleep peacefully! Okay, okay, I will TRY to crank out another chapter before I leave...--Mychy
Chapter 4: Late at Night, She Dreams
She saw Joren standing on the edge of a grass-topped dune, his back to her, staring out at a roiling, frothing, stormy sea. Out beyond the sea was nothing, only a steel gray sky. She was standing far behind him, watching him like a hawk. He slowly turned around, as though he sensed her presence, but his path of view was over, above her head, and past...something she could not see. And she was frozen in place, unable to turn and see what it was Joren was looking at.
Many expressions flitted across his pale, pointed face, his hair flying about in the heavy winds. At first, he seemed irate, but then she could see a little confusion. And then panic. She desperately wanted to turn and see what it was he was so mixed up about, but she could only barely turn her head. She tried moving her hands, and her arms, for maybe she could pull out a weapon. She was able to move them-but nothing was attached to her belt. She was defenseless, and there was a possibly dangerous something right behind her. And then Joren called frantically to her. She could not quite make out what he said over the howling winds. It sounded like he was telling her to turn around.
"What?" she shouted back. At least her voice worked.
"Turn around! It's behind you!"
Now she understood what he was saying, but he didn't understand that she was trapped in her own body and could not move. "I can't!" she screamed. "I'm frozen! What's behind me?"
Joren ran towards her, fear in his icy blue eyes. She couldn't help thinking how unlike Joren it was to show fear or panic. When he reached her, he panted, "Keladry! I d-don't know what it is! It's coming towards you real fast!"
"I can't move! You have to help! I don't have any weapons!"
He glanced wordlessly at her belt, and then back at her, frustrated. "But-I can't. I can't fight it myself."
"You'll have to! What is it?"
"It's-it's..." Something slammed into her with incredible force from behind, knocking her face-first to the damp, cold, grassy ground. Sharp claws-or teeth-she didn't know which-dug into her shoulders. Whatever had just attacked her screamed and shrieked horribly, and she heard a distinct beating of wings. And then, a large, razor beak dug into her neck. A Stormwing.
"Joren-help-" she yelled, digging her fingers into the ground and trying to pull herself up.
She heard the harsh sound of steel being drawn, and then a loud clang of metal on metal. Joren was breathing hard, hacking at the Immortal, but it did not move from its position on her back, only shifting slightly, releasing her neck from its beak and grinding its claws further into her back. She bit back screams of pain, but heard another...a yell of pain. She squirmed, knowing that Joren had probably just been sliced by one of the Stormwing's sharp steel feathers. Her legs were still frozen in place, but she pushed her torso off the ground, her muscles flexing in her arms. She could feel the Immortal shifting its weight, trying to get a hold on her as she pushed her body to a kneeling position.
The clashing of metal paused for a second as Joren yelled if she was okay.
"Don't speak!" she told him. "Fight!" She was nearly upright now; but the Stormwing now stood on her shoulders. She felt as though she were sinking into the ground with its weight. And then, she felt the splatter of warm, dark blood. Joren must have slit the creature's throat, for much of it poured down upon her shoulders and neck, drenching her in the sticky black liquid. She delicately turned her neck, to see what Joren was doing. She could not see him anywhere, but she realized he was the one struggling to lift the Stormwing off of her back. Now that the weight was off of her, she was now kneeling, sitting back on her heels. "Thank you, Joren," she gasped.
He wordlessly walked so that he was standing in front of her, and she saw his large hand extended in front of her. She took it, and pulled herself to a standing position. He spoke then. "Are you hurt?" His voice was now cold and nonchalant again, sounding uncaring but for the question he had just asked her.
"Yes," she breathed, still feeling the stinging in the gouges the creature had made in her back and shoulders. Her ribs were probably bruised from her fall, so she could tell be the ache. She looked up at him. He stared once more at the sea, which had calmed down. Light showed through a bank of steadily lightening clouds, and the wind slowly died down to a whisper. Feeling came to her legs, and she stumbled, feeling the tingling sensation one feels after their leg has been numb for quite some time.
Joren caught her, and, wrapping her arm around his shoulder for support, he walked to her to the edge of the cliff. "You almost died," he said expressionlessly.
She said nothing, only stared at the gentle waves lapping at the sandy shore below. He turned her around to face him, looking into her eyes searchingly, and she wondered what was to happen next. His eyes were cold, unfeeling, and she thought that maybe he would try to finish the job the Stormwing had started, by throwing her off the cliff. But he pulled her closer, and closer, until their faces were almost uncomfortably close. What was going on? She asked, panicking. Her body went stiff again, but at her will. Now, they were pressed against each other, his arms about her waist. And she found she could not struggle, as he slowly touched his lips to hers. A fire seemed to rage in her, like a fever, in her cheeks and in her chest. Joren's eyes were closed now, and she shut hers as well, feeling a wave of passion-
"Mithros!" She bolted upright in the dark of her room, her sheets twisted painfully around her legs. She rubbed her forehead, and then sank slowly back down until her head hit her pillow. It was disturbing enough that she and Joren had just kissed, but worse, because she was the one who had dreamed about it! She was hot, sweating, and her lips seemed to burn, as though her dream had been real. "Me, having a dream about-about-Joren!" She muttered. The fire in her fireplace was down to a few glowing coals, and everything was silent and calm, except her. "What will be next?" she whispered to herself. "Daydreams? Blushing whenever I see him?" She was horrified with herself. "Mithros..."
She sank back into slumber, wondering vaguely in her head about her dream.
OKAY, OKAY! Who knows...this may or may not be the last chapter until August 5th, who knows. My mother is in a "Work my daughter to the bone" mood, and feels like making me practice piano twice a day, because god forbid, a piano at camp might be out of tune and won't sound as good! Dear god...And that's not counting the times I have to go to hour-and-a-half long sessions of Kung Fu, and then taking care of the pets of my neighbours who are away, and babysitting for various people...the list goes on and on. But wait! I'm forgetting 1:00 in the morning, when everyone but me, nocturnal me, is asleep peacefully! Okay, okay, I will TRY to crank out another chapter before I leave...--Mychy