Wow, thank you all for your kind reviews. Although I'm warning you, this chapter is going to be worse than the last one. Emotionally, I mean. I was tearing up as I wrote it. I'm going to cut this short, and just leave you to the story. And I'm convinced that this story is over-dramatic, but then again, so am I 96% of the time. *s*
lol, oh, and Audrey, I'm *still* hanging, wating for a third chapter. Stop reading this and go write. :D
TLWROX, eep, sorry. You're not going to like this chapter much..
=^..^=
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Marguerite closed her eyes as Roxton ran his finger's through her hair, his lips making their way down her neck line.
"Oh Marguerite." He murmured. "Marguerite.. Marguerite.." Roxton repeated her name, his voice filled with love and adoration. "Marguerite!" He exclaimed forcefully.
With a start, Marguerite sat up and opened her eyes.
"You can't spend the whole day in bed you know." Veronica chided her. "It's already past ten."
Marguerite took a deep breath and ran her hands over her face in an attempt to wipe the dream from her memory.
"All right, I'm up." The heiress sighed, giving Veronica a weak smile. "Is there any coffee left?"
"We saved you a cup." Veronica assured her.
"Thanks. I'll be out in a minute, I just need to get dressed."
Veronica nodded and left the room. And as soon as she left, all of the energy seemed to drain from Marguerite's body.
"John.." She whispered softly.
It had been two months since her beloved hunter had been killed and placed within the earth. And since his death, Marguerite had not known a moment of peace.
After all, it was her fault he was dead. She was the one who had chased him from the treehouse. The one who had played the records so loud that they hadn't been able to hear his gunshots.. his cries for help.. And it ripped her insides to shreds knowing that his last thoughts of her had been how much of a spoiled little brat she was. That her last words to him had been spiteful, hurtful, and cruel. That she had never gotten a chance to tell Roxton just how much she had really loved him..
Challenger had said that 'from the look of things', the raptor had caught Roxton off guard (because he was so mad..) and managed to gut him with it's claws. Roxton, however, killed it before it had the chance to eat him alive. Instead, he bled to death. And there had been
so much blood...
Challenger had also said that even if they had heard his cries for help, there wouldn't have been a way they could have saved him. He would have lost too much blood by the time they had gotten there. But still, the thought that Roxton had died alone.. it made Marguerite sick to her stomach. All because of some stupid scarf. Some wretched little piece of colored silk that had cost her Roxton's life. It had been worth a lot, but not that much. Nothing was worth that much...
But today, she tried her best not to think about it as she got dressed. And she had gotten quite good at pushing thoughts out of her head. It was how she had managed to last this long without him.
~*~*~*
"About time you got up." Malone smiled as Marguerite entered the kitchen area. "It's your turn to fix the elevator."
"We both know the last time I fixed the elevator, we ended up having to using the rope ladder for a week." Marguerite reminded him. "Get Challenger to do it."
"He's not here, actually. Challenger and Veronica just left to go collect a few medicinal plants." Malone informed her. "Apparently our supplies are getting low."
"Aren't they always?" Marguerite asked as she took the coffee Malone offered her. "Guess that leaves it up to you then." She said as she took a seat at the table.
"Oh no you don't." Malone protested. "You aren't tricking me into doing any more of your chores."
"Oh fine. Fix the elevator, and I'll make dinner tonight." Marguerite bargained.
"All right. That sounds fair." Malone agreed. "Guess I'd better get to work then." He spoke as he rose from the table to do just that, leaving Marguerite alone again.
She hated being alone these days. But unless she wanted to help Ned with the blasted elevator, there wasn't a way to avoid it. And she most definitely wasn't going to be doing that.
'Maybe I'll go and visit his grave today.' Marguerite though to herself as she sipped her coffee.
The thought made her heart tighten. It was too natural. She shouldn't be okay with the fact that he was buried deep within the cold earth, all by himself. But she wasn't. Of course she wasn't! Marguerite sighed. She hadn't been there in the past week. Things had been pretty hectic. After all, this was a natural part of things. People died all the time.
"Especially out here on this god-forsaken plateau." Marguerite muttered to herself.
"What was that?" Malone asked as he came back into the room.
"Nothing, just talking to myself." Marguerite assured him.
"I just wanted to ask if you knew where Challenger put the.. oh, never mind. Here it is." Malone picked something up off of the table that Marguerite didn't recognize.
"All right, well, if you don't need me around here, I think I'll go and take a walk. Get some fresh air." Marguerite told him as she got to her feet.
"Are you sure you'll be all right out there on your own?" Malone asked, concerned.
They were concerned a lot these days.
"I'll be fine. I'll have my guns." Marguerite assured him.
But no riffles. She refused to use them anymore, and the others didn't make a big deal out of it. They were too busy trying to keep her sane.
"All right." Malone said after awhile. "Tell him I said hello."
"I will." Marguerite forced a smile before leaving the room.
She didn't need to tell him where she was going. He knew.
~*~*~*
Marguerite lay the few wildflowers she had picked on top of his grave.
It was simple. Just a wooden cross with his name carved across it. Challenger was fashioning a tomb stone to put all others to shame, but for now, the wooden cross was all John had. But Marguerite was sure that silly little things like that didn't matter to him anymore.
"I miss you, John." She confessed to the dirt. "I miss you so much.."
Marguerite took a deep breath in an attempt to keep the tears from forming. She still didn't like to cry, although she did more often now.
"Do you think he can hear you?"
The voice brought Marguerite spinning around, her gun pointed in the direction of whoever was behind her.
"Oh really Marguerite." The woman sighed. "Put that away."
She was about the same height as Marguerite, although she looked to be a few years younger. She had the tanned skin you can only get from working outside all of your life, and long wavy black hair framed her face. Her eyes were what bothered the heiress. The woman had eyes the color of midnight blue. Eyes that seemed to go on forever, and seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it back out into the world.
"Who are you?" Marguerite demanded.
She wore a simple white top with a long white skirt, and Marguerite found herself wondering how the woman had managed to keep it from getting stained.
"My name is Sidra." The woman introduced herself.
"Sidra, of the moon." Marguerite translated absently. "That's great. What do you want?"
"Wow, they were right, this is going to be hard." Sidra spoke to herself.
"What do you want?" Marguerite repeated, losing what little patience she might have had with the woman who dared bother her here, of all places.
"Marguerite, I'm an angel. I've come to lead you to your destiny." Sidra explained quickly.
Marguerite was quiet for awhile, and Sidra wondered if she might have actually gotten through to her. But even as the thought began to grow in her head, Marguerite chuckled.
"Destiny? Where was destiny two months ago? Don't come to me now, and tell me that this is some divine plan." Marguerite snapped. "And I don't believe in angels. I have no need of angels."
"Everyone has need of angels."
"I don't." She insisted.
"Fine. But maybe the angels have need of you." Sidra regarded her.
"Whatever for?"
"Marguerite, there is an evil in this land. A great evil that might kill every piece of good that ever was." She paused. "You are the only one who can stop it."
Marguerite burst out laughing.
"I *must* be hallucinating. Maybe it's that herbal tea Veronica gave me last night.." Marguerite reasoned.
"It's true." The angel insisted.
"It's ridiculous." Marguerite countered.
"I'm new at this." Sidra offered a warm smile.
"So, even if it is real, why should I care? I'm hardly a 'piece of good', so I'm sure I have nothing to worry about."
"You don't mean that." Sidra exclaimed.
"Maybe I do." Marguerite argued. "And even if there *is* enough good in me that I need to be worried, let the deamon come and kill me. Death would be better than this."
"What about Veronica? Or Ned? Or George? Don't they deserve to live? The Zanga village, the innocents of this reality, and every other reality in existence.. shouldn't they get to wake up to another day?" The angel's voice was almost pleading.
"What about Roxton?" Marguerite almost shrieked. "Didn't he deserve another day? Didn't he deserve to live? Why should I care what happens to this damned place!? How dare you come to me now. Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when that raptor was stealing him away from me?" Marguerite wiped away her tears roughly, leaving smudges of dirt on her cheek. "Why should I care?" She asked once more. Softer this time.
"Because this deamon.. he was the one who stole John away from you. He was the one who laughed as your love lay dying. If for nothing else Marguerite, you must destroy him. For it was he who took life away from you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, there you have it. Looks like Roxton *can* be dead after all. You can proceed to flame me now, lol. I'm sorry, I really don't know where all this is coming from. Yes, I love angst, but I usually feel that TLW characters have too much angst in their lives already. But, I can't ignore my Muse when she sings her siren song. I've tried, and it never ends well.
What do you think, will Marguerite kill the deamon? Heck, will she even be able to, or will it kill her first? Could I actually be mean enough as to kill off my two favorite characters in the same fic?!? Come on, you know you wanna review ;). And I understand if any of you are mad at me. If I were you, I'd be mad at me too. Oh, look, that rhymes. lol, me and my fascination with unintended rhyming... anyway, back to the point. Review the fic if you want me to keep my sanity! Like I have any left.. lol
Dai Stiho (Which means 'go well', btw.)
~CrimsonCat~
lol, oh, and Audrey, I'm *still* hanging, wating for a third chapter. Stop reading this and go write. :D
TLWROX, eep, sorry. You're not going to like this chapter much..
=^..^=
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Marguerite closed her eyes as Roxton ran his finger's through her hair, his lips making their way down her neck line.
"Oh Marguerite." He murmured. "Marguerite.. Marguerite.." Roxton repeated her name, his voice filled with love and adoration. "Marguerite!" He exclaimed forcefully.
With a start, Marguerite sat up and opened her eyes.
"You can't spend the whole day in bed you know." Veronica chided her. "It's already past ten."
Marguerite took a deep breath and ran her hands over her face in an attempt to wipe the dream from her memory.
"All right, I'm up." The heiress sighed, giving Veronica a weak smile. "Is there any coffee left?"
"We saved you a cup." Veronica assured her.
"Thanks. I'll be out in a minute, I just need to get dressed."
Veronica nodded and left the room. And as soon as she left, all of the energy seemed to drain from Marguerite's body.
"John.." She whispered softly.
It had been two months since her beloved hunter had been killed and placed within the earth. And since his death, Marguerite had not known a moment of peace.
After all, it was her fault he was dead. She was the one who had chased him from the treehouse. The one who had played the records so loud that they hadn't been able to hear his gunshots.. his cries for help.. And it ripped her insides to shreds knowing that his last thoughts of her had been how much of a spoiled little brat she was. That her last words to him had been spiteful, hurtful, and cruel. That she had never gotten a chance to tell Roxton just how much she had really loved him..
Challenger had said that 'from the look of things', the raptor had caught Roxton off guard (because he was so mad..) and managed to gut him with it's claws. Roxton, however, killed it before it had the chance to eat him alive. Instead, he bled to death. And there had been
so much blood...
Challenger had also said that even if they had heard his cries for help, there wouldn't have been a way they could have saved him. He would have lost too much blood by the time they had gotten there. But still, the thought that Roxton had died alone.. it made Marguerite sick to her stomach. All because of some stupid scarf. Some wretched little piece of colored silk that had cost her Roxton's life. It had been worth a lot, but not that much. Nothing was worth that much...
But today, she tried her best not to think about it as she got dressed. And she had gotten quite good at pushing thoughts out of her head. It was how she had managed to last this long without him.
~*~*~*
"About time you got up." Malone smiled as Marguerite entered the kitchen area. "It's your turn to fix the elevator."
"We both know the last time I fixed the elevator, we ended up having to using the rope ladder for a week." Marguerite reminded him. "Get Challenger to do it."
"He's not here, actually. Challenger and Veronica just left to go collect a few medicinal plants." Malone informed her. "Apparently our supplies are getting low."
"Aren't they always?" Marguerite asked as she took the coffee Malone offered her. "Guess that leaves it up to you then." She said as she took a seat at the table.
"Oh no you don't." Malone protested. "You aren't tricking me into doing any more of your chores."
"Oh fine. Fix the elevator, and I'll make dinner tonight." Marguerite bargained.
"All right. That sounds fair." Malone agreed. "Guess I'd better get to work then." He spoke as he rose from the table to do just that, leaving Marguerite alone again.
She hated being alone these days. But unless she wanted to help Ned with the blasted elevator, there wasn't a way to avoid it. And she most definitely wasn't going to be doing that.
'Maybe I'll go and visit his grave today.' Marguerite though to herself as she sipped her coffee.
The thought made her heart tighten. It was too natural. She shouldn't be okay with the fact that he was buried deep within the cold earth, all by himself. But she wasn't. Of course she wasn't! Marguerite sighed. She hadn't been there in the past week. Things had been pretty hectic. After all, this was a natural part of things. People died all the time.
"Especially out here on this god-forsaken plateau." Marguerite muttered to herself.
"What was that?" Malone asked as he came back into the room.
"Nothing, just talking to myself." Marguerite assured him.
"I just wanted to ask if you knew where Challenger put the.. oh, never mind. Here it is." Malone picked something up off of the table that Marguerite didn't recognize.
"All right, well, if you don't need me around here, I think I'll go and take a walk. Get some fresh air." Marguerite told him as she got to her feet.
"Are you sure you'll be all right out there on your own?" Malone asked, concerned.
They were concerned a lot these days.
"I'll be fine. I'll have my guns." Marguerite assured him.
But no riffles. She refused to use them anymore, and the others didn't make a big deal out of it. They were too busy trying to keep her sane.
"All right." Malone said after awhile. "Tell him I said hello."
"I will." Marguerite forced a smile before leaving the room.
She didn't need to tell him where she was going. He knew.
~*~*~*
Marguerite lay the few wildflowers she had picked on top of his grave.
It was simple. Just a wooden cross with his name carved across it. Challenger was fashioning a tomb stone to put all others to shame, but for now, the wooden cross was all John had. But Marguerite was sure that silly little things like that didn't matter to him anymore.
"I miss you, John." She confessed to the dirt. "I miss you so much.."
Marguerite took a deep breath in an attempt to keep the tears from forming. She still didn't like to cry, although she did more often now.
"Do you think he can hear you?"
The voice brought Marguerite spinning around, her gun pointed in the direction of whoever was behind her.
"Oh really Marguerite." The woman sighed. "Put that away."
She was about the same height as Marguerite, although she looked to be a few years younger. She had the tanned skin you can only get from working outside all of your life, and long wavy black hair framed her face. Her eyes were what bothered the heiress. The woman had eyes the color of midnight blue. Eyes that seemed to go on forever, and seemed to absorb the sunlight rather than reflect it back out into the world.
"Who are you?" Marguerite demanded.
She wore a simple white top with a long white skirt, and Marguerite found herself wondering how the woman had managed to keep it from getting stained.
"My name is Sidra." The woman introduced herself.
"Sidra, of the moon." Marguerite translated absently. "That's great. What do you want?"
"Wow, they were right, this is going to be hard." Sidra spoke to herself.
"What do you want?" Marguerite repeated, losing what little patience she might have had with the woman who dared bother her here, of all places.
"Marguerite, I'm an angel. I've come to lead you to your destiny." Sidra explained quickly.
Marguerite was quiet for awhile, and Sidra wondered if she might have actually gotten through to her. But even as the thought began to grow in her head, Marguerite chuckled.
"Destiny? Where was destiny two months ago? Don't come to me now, and tell me that this is some divine plan." Marguerite snapped. "And I don't believe in angels. I have no need of angels."
"Everyone has need of angels."
"I don't." She insisted.
"Fine. But maybe the angels have need of you." Sidra regarded her.
"Whatever for?"
"Marguerite, there is an evil in this land. A great evil that might kill every piece of good that ever was." She paused. "You are the only one who can stop it."
Marguerite burst out laughing.
"I *must* be hallucinating. Maybe it's that herbal tea Veronica gave me last night.." Marguerite reasoned.
"It's true." The angel insisted.
"It's ridiculous." Marguerite countered.
"I'm new at this." Sidra offered a warm smile.
"So, even if it is real, why should I care? I'm hardly a 'piece of good', so I'm sure I have nothing to worry about."
"You don't mean that." Sidra exclaimed.
"Maybe I do." Marguerite argued. "And even if there *is* enough good in me that I need to be worried, let the deamon come and kill me. Death would be better than this."
"What about Veronica? Or Ned? Or George? Don't they deserve to live? The Zanga village, the innocents of this reality, and every other reality in existence.. shouldn't they get to wake up to another day?" The angel's voice was almost pleading.
"What about Roxton?" Marguerite almost shrieked. "Didn't he deserve another day? Didn't he deserve to live? Why should I care what happens to this damned place!? How dare you come to me now. Where were you when I needed you? Where were you when that raptor was stealing him away from me?" Marguerite wiped away her tears roughly, leaving smudges of dirt on her cheek. "Why should I care?" She asked once more. Softer this time.
"Because this deamon.. he was the one who stole John away from you. He was the one who laughed as your love lay dying. If for nothing else Marguerite, you must destroy him. For it was he who took life away from you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, there you have it. Looks like Roxton *can* be dead after all. You can proceed to flame me now, lol. I'm sorry, I really don't know where all this is coming from. Yes, I love angst, but I usually feel that TLW characters have too much angst in their lives already. But, I can't ignore my Muse when she sings her siren song. I've tried, and it never ends well.
What do you think, will Marguerite kill the deamon? Heck, will she even be able to, or will it kill her first? Could I actually be mean enough as to kill off my two favorite characters in the same fic?!? Come on, you know you wanna review ;). And I understand if any of you are mad at me. If I were you, I'd be mad at me too. Oh, look, that rhymes. lol, me and my fascination with unintended rhyming... anyway, back to the point. Review the fic if you want me to keep my sanity! Like I have any left.. lol
Dai Stiho (Which means 'go well', btw.)
~CrimsonCat~