IN YOUR LOVE
PART FOUR
Briar Creek is uncomfortably calm tonight, as a storm omen. To Rowan the chilly air feels like a great cloud of lead hanging over her, strangling as a noose.
A part of her quietly wonders what it would be like to love. Having her name whispered sweetly and hand held tenderly.
Tears well up in her eyes, love is left only as a fantasy now.
The life stirring into existence inside her had innocently killed that dream.
She doesn't wipe her falling tears, letting them run down to mingle with the blood staining her neck.
Every tear traps a vile memory form last night. Squall, the man she had been forced to betroth, had come to make sure her loyalties did not sway again.
Rowan had been so helpless, it sickens her. Nothing, nothing she did could stop him. She tore, tooth and talon, but he was simply stronger, bigger and meaner.
Squall hadn't wasted a moment upon entering. Marking the upper hand by drinking her blood, he showed no sign of ever stopping. Leaving her light-headed, weak and unable to call for help. Somehow he had managed to paralyze her telepathy.
None of that matters now anyway. The damage was done. She shakes her head, the Carters couldn't have done much anyhow.
Rowan suddenly feels watched. Glancing slightly she makes out Mary- Lynette spying from her window.
Curiosity is going to kill that girl someday.
Wanting privacy, Rowan walks back inside her late aunt's house. Her feet take her by routine, unthinkingly to her bedroom. Inside she freezes, her eyes falling on a pile of ripped and bloody cloths.
The tears continue. Squall had carried the clawing Rowan upstairs to this room, tossing her as a rag-doll on the bed.
"Our honeymoon suite my dear. Like it?"
Rowan shuts her eyes, blocking out the events which followed. Slowly, ruthlessly, they creep back through.
The struggling - Squall's laughter drowning her screams - her bare body - exposed to a man's invading hands - the pain of him inside her - savaging her... and in the end, her feeling of humility.
Cupping her head in her trembling hands she whispered, "What have you done to me?"
He'd destroyed her.
She, Rowan Redfern had been raped. Her chastity was paraded and consumed in his pleasure. His scent, every inch of her body is drenched with it. No amount of bathing could ever get rid of it since it's not a physical blemish rather an un-washable mark staining her very soul and at everyone's viewing.
The child she carried, his child. As Squall left the house this morning, Rowan looked after him in horror. Was this it? Did he not have anything to say?
Reading her thoughts, he grinned evilly. "I'll send flowers...to welcome the baby."
At those words, Rowan's world fell apart. There was no longer any ground underneath her feet. She'd thought it was his way of having her marry him, but he showed no interest in that now.
What face would she show? How many would believe her story, she did run away from home, with her sisters yes but whom else? There was a whole mill full of rumours to be spread to damage her already tarnished reputation not to mention that of her sisters. Most importantly though, what would she do with the child? There's no such thing as Lamia contraception, and her morals refused to consider abortion.
She opens her swollen eyes to realize how tired she is. Sleep refused to come to her since Squall's arrival.
Longing for some peace, Rowan moves to the adjoining bathroom and turns on the shower tap. She strips off her cloths to immerse herself in the hot water. The water really isn't hot enough for her Lamia skin to soak in all the heat but she lets it make her mind numb.
As the water washes her tears, she lets it lull her into false security.
((Everything would be okay...)) Underneath this shower and sweet smelling shampoo, it seemed believable.
There's a jolt a pain in her head and a picture suddenly flashes in front of her closed eyes. A young girl, with long dark hair, steam covering her naked figure as she showers. Mouthing, "Everything's gonna be alright."
Rowan's eyes fly open, had she dozed off? She shakes her head, sending strands of wet brown hair dancing. Once more she closes her eyes.
((He was gone, miles and miles away))
There's a throb in her chest at the thought of his absence. Rowan sees the girl again, who's openly expressing grief, pounding her small fists against the shower tiles as her mouth wailed a silent scream. Disturbed by the image, Rowan quickly shifts her attention.
((Her sisters would be back in a few days, there was that Christmas charity to keep her busy, and besides, it was too early to tell she was pregnant, even for Lamias...))
PART FOUR
Briar Creek is uncomfortably calm tonight, as a storm omen. To Rowan the chilly air feels like a great cloud of lead hanging over her, strangling as a noose.
A part of her quietly wonders what it would be like to love. Having her name whispered sweetly and hand held tenderly.
Tears well up in her eyes, love is left only as a fantasy now.
The life stirring into existence inside her had innocently killed that dream.
She doesn't wipe her falling tears, letting them run down to mingle with the blood staining her neck.
Every tear traps a vile memory form last night. Squall, the man she had been forced to betroth, had come to make sure her loyalties did not sway again.
Rowan had been so helpless, it sickens her. Nothing, nothing she did could stop him. She tore, tooth and talon, but he was simply stronger, bigger and meaner.
Squall hadn't wasted a moment upon entering. Marking the upper hand by drinking her blood, he showed no sign of ever stopping. Leaving her light-headed, weak and unable to call for help. Somehow he had managed to paralyze her telepathy.
None of that matters now anyway. The damage was done. She shakes her head, the Carters couldn't have done much anyhow.
Rowan suddenly feels watched. Glancing slightly she makes out Mary- Lynette spying from her window.
Curiosity is going to kill that girl someday.
Wanting privacy, Rowan walks back inside her late aunt's house. Her feet take her by routine, unthinkingly to her bedroom. Inside she freezes, her eyes falling on a pile of ripped and bloody cloths.
The tears continue. Squall had carried the clawing Rowan upstairs to this room, tossing her as a rag-doll on the bed.
"Our honeymoon suite my dear. Like it?"
Rowan shuts her eyes, blocking out the events which followed. Slowly, ruthlessly, they creep back through.
The struggling - Squall's laughter drowning her screams - her bare body - exposed to a man's invading hands - the pain of him inside her - savaging her... and in the end, her feeling of humility.
Cupping her head in her trembling hands she whispered, "What have you done to me?"
He'd destroyed her.
She, Rowan Redfern had been raped. Her chastity was paraded and consumed in his pleasure. His scent, every inch of her body is drenched with it. No amount of bathing could ever get rid of it since it's not a physical blemish rather an un-washable mark staining her very soul and at everyone's viewing.
The child she carried, his child. As Squall left the house this morning, Rowan looked after him in horror. Was this it? Did he not have anything to say?
Reading her thoughts, he grinned evilly. "I'll send flowers...to welcome the baby."
At those words, Rowan's world fell apart. There was no longer any ground underneath her feet. She'd thought it was his way of having her marry him, but he showed no interest in that now.
What face would she show? How many would believe her story, she did run away from home, with her sisters yes but whom else? There was a whole mill full of rumours to be spread to damage her already tarnished reputation not to mention that of her sisters. Most importantly though, what would she do with the child? There's no such thing as Lamia contraception, and her morals refused to consider abortion.
She opens her swollen eyes to realize how tired she is. Sleep refused to come to her since Squall's arrival.
Longing for some peace, Rowan moves to the adjoining bathroom and turns on the shower tap. She strips off her cloths to immerse herself in the hot water. The water really isn't hot enough for her Lamia skin to soak in all the heat but she lets it make her mind numb.
As the water washes her tears, she lets it lull her into false security.
((Everything would be okay...)) Underneath this shower and sweet smelling shampoo, it seemed believable.
There's a jolt a pain in her head and a picture suddenly flashes in front of her closed eyes. A young girl, with long dark hair, steam covering her naked figure as she showers. Mouthing, "Everything's gonna be alright."
Rowan's eyes fly open, had she dozed off? She shakes her head, sending strands of wet brown hair dancing. Once more she closes her eyes.
((He was gone, miles and miles away))
There's a throb in her chest at the thought of his absence. Rowan sees the girl again, who's openly expressing grief, pounding her small fists against the shower tiles as her mouth wailed a silent scream. Disturbed by the image, Rowan quickly shifts her attention.
((Her sisters would be back in a few days, there was that Christmas charity to keep her busy, and besides, it was too early to tell she was pregnant, even for Lamias...))