Listening to non-stop: The Gladiator soundtrack
by Jessica French (Midnite363@aol.com)
****
Scotland 1745
Shannon's sobs became muffled huffs as she buried her face into Damon's shoulder again. They were in his room, where he had taken her without question. When the door had been shut behind her she had sunk to the ground, she had thought her tears were dried up. Thought she couldn't cry anymore, but when Damon touched her shoulder she began again in silence. When he gathered her in his arms quietly, she buried her face in his shoulder and her silent tears turned into raging sobs. She cursed, she screamed, she begged to know why.
Damon let her cry, let her release whatever anger and grief she had inside her. The new year had been rung in with none of the joy that had been planned. It was now January 1745. After a time, her sobs quieted and she fell asleep in his arms. Carefully he placed her in the center of his bed, pulled the brown and tan check quilt over her and looked down at her. He was frowning lightly. He turned and left, leaving her to sleep her grief away, he hoped. Because there was more to come, and not that much time in between.
The moon glittered on the water which was like a mirror reflecting the heavens. It was utterly still, even though Malachy dipped the long wooden oar into the water at small intervals. Dressed in the same outfits they always wore, tonight Shannon did not feel happy to see him. In fact she felt nothing, the tragedy of her brother's death held even in her dreams. She sat in the little wooden row boat with Malachy standing across from her, directing the boat to some unseen shore, an unknown destination.
No one spoke. Malachy had his mask off, it rested on the floor of the boat. He hat was also amiss, though it was not with it's companion on the floor of the small wooden boat. His copper hair flashed in the moonlight, it was slightly tousled from some unfelt wind. His eyes were dark, as dark as the black water. Pale hands griped the handle of the oar. His wide mouth was set in a bored frown, his eyes never left her. He appeared to be willing and able to stand there all night, but Shannon was not in the mood for his cryptic fortune telling. She wanted answers.
"Why?" she asked, her voice flat.
"Everything that is born must die."
She slapped a hand to the side of the boat and it wobbled. Malachy stood unaffected, and she suspected that if the boat tipped she would be the only one going into the water. "No! You know what I mean Malachy. You said that my family would die in the Rising. The battle of the Rising. Not like this! James... he... just tell me what happened?"
"Obviously, he had a little run in with the English. But I actually think that the future is altering to accommodate what has happened. I think this is a punishment for you trying to change the future. I had told you that trying to change things would prove most drastic. But you always were a stubborn girl."
"How would you know." Shannon grumbled. "Look, Malachy, I don't think you understand."
He raised a brow looking amused.
"I cannot do this. I cannot watch my family die. I can't watch my country, my lands burn and be taken over by the English, or anyone for that matter. What would happen if .... if I were to leave Scotland. Damon could finish... " she felt queasy, "... could finish changing me and I could die, " she finished quickly.
The boat came to a gentle stop and Malachy walked across the boards till he stood in front of her. He knelt and looked her in the eye, his were the impossible aqua marine and she could not help but draw short of breath. They were amazing paired with his chestnut hair. "I will make you a deal. It is quite painless. If you go get the final dose of Damon's blood into your lovely little veins, you will be almost guaranteed your immortal life, if... you die in a weeks time, I believe. Otherwise his blood will run thin in yours and the process would have to be repeated. Understand?"
She gave a stiff nod.
Malachy frowned lightly, "Of course you do. My deal is this. If you become the vampire you so wish to be for the Lord's reason, I don't know why, I will ensure you safe passage to the new world, I will guarantee that your family will not lose their lands to the English. That means that one of your brother's will not die in the Rising, and quite possibly none of them will die. If....." he trailed off.
"If what?" Shannon said in an annoyed voice, she was getting prematurely tired of Malachy's word puzzles.
"If you leave the country without your lovely Damon."
"Why ever would you want me to do that?!" Sharp panic hit her in the gut.
"Everything has a price and that is mine, do not question the ways of it." He stood, going back to his side of the boat, grabbing the oar he began rowing again. "Agreed?"
"I.... oh my god, how can I just leave him? Malachy there has to be another way. He will hate me, he will think I used him and that is so not very true. Please, please, I beg you think of another way, anything, anything at all I promise I'll do it, but not this. Please..."
"An interesting prospect, but.... No... no this is what I want. Don't worry Shannon, I will be with you always. A constant murmur in your mind when you need me most. Agreed?"
She thought. Furiously she did not want to agree to this, but.... her family. Her lands, her pride as a Drake stood on the line. She had met Damon months ago, but she had known her family all her life. Her loyalty, she realized with a heavy sense of dread falling over her heart, would always be with her family first. Her voice was oddly flat and heavy with despair as she murmured, "Agreed."
She woke up the next day, the sun bright in the sky, and the feeling hadn't left. It only became thicker as she went to the window and saw Damon and Char talking below. A brief exchange and Damon looked up, flashed her a smile and turned, disappearing into the castle. Coming her way.