A/N: Here's the second chapter. There's a bit more of Shakespeare in here, which I realized that I simply love now. There'll probably be a Romeo/Juliet type story sometime, or I'll totally revamp this one and create a whole new story.
Now, on with the reading.
Chapter Two
Glory walked back to her room, slowly, counting her steps. Her strides were long, that of a mans, and she stretched her short legs to move. She was late, she knew, but she didn't mind. The soldiers hands around hers were like a mirage - she could faintly see them and feel them, but she knew they weren't there. His callused palms were surprising comforting, somewhat like her fathers. The scent of his lips still lingered on the tops of her hands, the sticky print of saliva an ever-present reminder of him. Her white robes smelled of him as well, a scent that drove her senses wild, smelling vaguely of the country, blended with the spices of fresh cut wood. She was aware that she'd smelled the rich fragrances before, but it was new to her now.
She was counting her steps for a reason, and for that, a smiled tugged at her lips. 306.... 307.... 308... Finally, she found herself at her door, at the end of a long, vacant hallway. The only other room down the carpeted corridor was leading to her bathroom. The private location of her quarters were granted with both years and good behavior. In the back of her mind, she often wondered if her mother had had anything to do with it. Slowly, Glory slid the knob on the door to the right and pushed, the wooden wall creaking back.
Behind the door stood a waiting Renny. She had been waiting for several minutes, not like the hours she appeared to have. She was always early, and Glory always late. Renny was like a mother and a friend in one, for she always looked after her. They sometimes wondered how two girls so opposite were friends so close. Their personalities often clashed, but in a blended in a mix best known as unique, priceless.
Glory looked up innocently to Renny, her eyes that of a begging child. She was only ten minutes late, but it was enough to worry her friend. She braced herself for the lecture Renny would have in store for her, though usually she would start to doze while listening, faintly hearing her speak in the dreams that came.
"Where were you?!" she began, not pausing to glimpse Glory's awestruck face. Glory paid no attention to the ranting girl, just like always. She began to think of the soldier again, like the many times she had on her way to her room.
"You could've gotten caught by one of the Elders! You could've... Glory?... Glory??" Renny had finally caught sight of the dreaming Clayr. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Glory said quietly. She tried to shake the soldier from her mind, but the lingering memories danced throughout her mind and body. Now she knew it had shown on her face, and she cursed her vulnerability for that.
"The soldier?" Renny asked, resuming her mischievous side.
Glory nodded with a grin. She inhaled deeply, his scent clouding her senses. The smell of his natural cologne made her mind reel, a feeling she'd never experienced before in this way before. She was finding that she didn't mind either.
"What happened?" Renny wanted all the details, she knew, so she began remembering. Glory began her story, a smile tugging again at her lips, and a small giggle escaped from their confines.
Glory met his eyes, feeling her insides melt like candles under flame. They were deep brown, chocolate, sparked yellow by the reflections of flickering candlelight, with green twirling in them as well. His hands were warm covering her fingers, the rough skin smooth, gentle. He was tall, with a well built body. She could almost envision his muscles beneath his red and gold uniform. His skin was tanner that hers, from long, laborious days in the sun. His dark brown hair was short and unruly, making him all the more attractive, and then sun had streaked the tresses with light.
"God-den," Glory managed to say after a moment of both silence and shock, her throat suddenly dry and tongue thick. She had been called pretty, but never gorgeous. His few words made her blood flow faster, her pulse beating rapidly. Her voice croaked, her naturally sweet and silky tone gone. She clasped her throat lightly with one hand.
"Today must be the Heavens' saddest day, for they've lost an angel to the Clayr. Glory must be your name, for you hold the grace of the gods, and that is the highest honor. Your beauty radiates around you like lighthouse to a ship, and I have set anchor in your harbor."
Glory was once again speechless. A tinge of red flushed against the soft, tan tones of her cheeks. "Thank you," she said again, in the voice that wasn't hers. S he paused and raised an eyebrow. With a laugh, she spoke again, "H - How did you know my name?"
The soldier left is poetic image behind and smiled shyly, making him appear as a child for the first time. Glory, somehow, liked this side of him better than the charms, though that had impressed her. "It's hard not to see your angelic presence. The chains against my wrists broke free when I saw you, and now I am at your command. You are a graceful creature, Glory." He smiled shyly again, a twinkling smiled that sent his eyes lighting up with the flames of fall's leaves. Beautiful. That was a first as well. "I'll have to admit, it wasn't my intuition that supplied your name." The soldier leaned to his left with a smile.
Renny, another soldier's arms around her waist, waved sheepishly. Glory laughed again and he joined in with her, soprano and tenor voices ringing together like a perfect melody. She felt the urge to throw her around him and kiss him crazy. He would scoop her up in his strong, firm grip, and it would be just liked she always imagined...
"My name is Elijah, by the way," he said as their laughter died down. Her cheeks were still flushed, and he loved the way the red blended with the tan of her skin. He bowed to her on bended knee and smiled. Being with him felt so right, her heart said, but her mind was telling her otherwise, that is was all too sudden. While her heart and her mind were conversing, Glory decided to speak.
"Where do you come from?"
"Belisaere, but my faimly originates in Aunden. What is your full name, Glory?"
"Glory Catalina Sayre."
"Very pretty. Suits you well."
Glory breathed out a sigh of relief. Lirael didn't use her last name often, as to protect her family. Abhorsen didn't call for the use of names, for that was her identification alone. Glory, of course, was safe at the Glacier, but Nick...
"And yours?"
"Elijah Damien Gordin."
"Attached?" Glory blurted out, not thinking. Her eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her mouth. What ever happened to the manners her mother taught her? Lirael would skin her alive if she only knew.
Elijah chuckled, picking up her hands once more. She loved the sound of his laugh, the huskiness of it soothing and comforting, two feelings that never felt this way before. She felt so confused, so torn, so soon.
"No, miss, I am not. No ties. But, I'm willing to change that," Elijah hinted. Glory's reddened cheeks grew brighter, and he lifted her hands up to his lips again. "The question is, are you willing, m'lady?"
Glory nodded slightly, and Elijah laughed again, this time loud and clear, ringing across the Hall. The noise quieted down a bit, and people turned to look. Elijah didn't see, and he kept on laughing. She watched him laughing, his face set aglow, his eyes sparkling all the more. His hair shifted as he moved, changing his features as he rocked. The sight of him made her laugh as well, and the melody sang out once more.
"Tell me about you, Glory. Question for a question, eh?" Elijah said, laughter still hanging on his voice.
"How old are you, Elijah?"
"Nineteen. And you?"
"Fifteen. Color?"
Elijah looked her robes up and down, then grinned. "Red." She giggled at his wandering eyes, the sound forever locked in his memory. "Flower?"
"Lily. Hot or cold?"
"Cold." She smiled. Clayr loved the chill, the Glacier being their home. "Belisaere or the country?"
"The Glacier. Charter or Free?"
"Charter." Elijah pulled her hand from her lap, and directed her fingers to the Charter mark on his forehead, which had been covered by his brown tresses. She touched his skin, the magic from the baptismal mark flowing into her. His magic was pure, the symbol not crumbling away. "Night or day?"
"Night. Love or friendship?"
"Love. Me or him?" Elijah chuckled as he pointed to the nearest solider.
"You. Me or her?" Glory pointed to a young Clayr, barely thirteen, just awoken with the Sight. She was still awkward, her true beauty yet to be uncovered. She reminded Glory much of herself just four years before.
"Tempting," he joked, "but you. Inside or out?"
"Out. Left or right?"
Elijah raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly. She doubled over with laughter, leaning forward. Her face was inches from hers. She could see the perfectly blended color of his eyes, and a scar above the right brow she'd neglected to see. He leaned in, quickly, and kissed her left cheek, and then quickly straightened. It was a brotherly kiss, nothing
more, but still it brought the rose into her cheeks.
"Left." He smiled, childishly again, and chuckled, his voice low and warm, mellow. The sound sent a wave of cold over her backside, and it wrapped her up in sure and strong arms, somewhat like she imagined the feel of his to be.
"Attention!" It was Sanar who spoke, with Ryelle standing faithfully at her side. The room silence almost immediately, the sounds that once were echoed throughout the Hall. The ringing of her voice replaced it, the voice that demanded respect and listening Clayr, and soldiers now as well.
"The soldiers will be left alone now. Clayr, please exit and go to your quarters, or to wherever you need to be. Any white robed young woman caught here afterwards shall be punished. No exceptions, unless a valid excuse with permission first. Thank you. You're excused."
The room full of white stood and began to walk through the doors. They called last goodbyes and promised to return again. Sanar's words, "white robed young women" was used loosely, and she knew it applied to her and Renny as well. She hadn't been given any slack for being the Abhorsen's daughter.
"One last question Glory. Will you come and see me again?"
"Yes, I believe I shall. Now, one last for me." She paused, as if thinking, but the question had been on her mind for minutes. "True or false: All's fair in love and war."
He thought for a moment, then spoke. "True."
"Good answer."
"Good question." Glory turned away, leaving the red and gold soldier for the time. She heard him speak, just low enough for her to hear, for she was just a few steps away.
"Count your steps for me, Glory, from the door. I will come to visit, if you let me."
She nodded, the only recognition she gave. She walked through the doors and stood for a moment, and then began walking again, counting the steps so carefully.
Behind her, Elijah's friends gather around. With beaming smiles, they spoke of the Clayr they'd come accquainted with. When it came to Elijah, they couldn't help but poke fun at the rosiness in his cheeks.
"Eli, I think someone's in love!" said one of the soldiers, slapping Elijah's shoulder playfully.
"Is that what you call it? Love? No, men, Elijah Gordin is in lust."
"If you laid eyes on the red-robed beauty he's entranced with, you wouldn't blame him," spoke Avi, Elijah's best mate. "But of course, my Renny is a sure match for his angel."
Elijah smiled. He was the one shimmering with glory, not them, and he spoke quietly.
"You jest at scars that never felt a wound.
But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Glory Sayre is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That though her maid art far more fair that she...
...It is my lady, O, it is my love!"
A/N: I warned you about the Shakespeare. So don't sue me, I'm not claiming it.
I accidentily uploaded the wrong chapter. So ignore the last one. It was the second chapter to Crimson Regrets, not this. ^^
Hope you liked it. Please review, I'll appreciate it.
Now, on with the reading.
Chapter Two
Glory walked back to her room, slowly, counting her steps. Her strides were long, that of a mans, and she stretched her short legs to move. She was late, she knew, but she didn't mind. The soldiers hands around hers were like a mirage - she could faintly see them and feel them, but she knew they weren't there. His callused palms were surprising comforting, somewhat like her fathers. The scent of his lips still lingered on the tops of her hands, the sticky print of saliva an ever-present reminder of him. Her white robes smelled of him as well, a scent that drove her senses wild, smelling vaguely of the country, blended with the spices of fresh cut wood. She was aware that she'd smelled the rich fragrances before, but it was new to her now.
She was counting her steps for a reason, and for that, a smiled tugged at her lips. 306.... 307.... 308... Finally, she found herself at her door, at the end of a long, vacant hallway. The only other room down the carpeted corridor was leading to her bathroom. The private location of her quarters were granted with both years and good behavior. In the back of her mind, she often wondered if her mother had had anything to do with it. Slowly, Glory slid the knob on the door to the right and pushed, the wooden wall creaking back.
Behind the door stood a waiting Renny. She had been waiting for several minutes, not like the hours she appeared to have. She was always early, and Glory always late. Renny was like a mother and a friend in one, for she always looked after her. They sometimes wondered how two girls so opposite were friends so close. Their personalities often clashed, but in a blended in a mix best known as unique, priceless.
Glory looked up innocently to Renny, her eyes that of a begging child. She was only ten minutes late, but it was enough to worry her friend. She braced herself for the lecture Renny would have in store for her, though usually she would start to doze while listening, faintly hearing her speak in the dreams that came.
"Where were you?!" she began, not pausing to glimpse Glory's awestruck face. Glory paid no attention to the ranting girl, just like always. She began to think of the soldier again, like the many times she had on her way to her room.
"You could've gotten caught by one of the Elders! You could've... Glory?... Glory??" Renny had finally caught sight of the dreaming Clayr. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Glory said quietly. She tried to shake the soldier from her mind, but the lingering memories danced throughout her mind and body. Now she knew it had shown on her face, and she cursed her vulnerability for that.
"The soldier?" Renny asked, resuming her mischievous side.
Glory nodded with a grin. She inhaled deeply, his scent clouding her senses. The smell of his natural cologne made her mind reel, a feeling she'd never experienced before in this way before. She was finding that she didn't mind either.
"What happened?" Renny wanted all the details, she knew, so she began remembering. Glory began her story, a smile tugging again at her lips, and a small giggle escaped from their confines.
Glory met his eyes, feeling her insides melt like candles under flame. They were deep brown, chocolate, sparked yellow by the reflections of flickering candlelight, with green twirling in them as well. His hands were warm covering her fingers, the rough skin smooth, gentle. He was tall, with a well built body. She could almost envision his muscles beneath his red and gold uniform. His skin was tanner that hers, from long, laborious days in the sun. His dark brown hair was short and unruly, making him all the more attractive, and then sun had streaked the tresses with light.
"God-den," Glory managed to say after a moment of both silence and shock, her throat suddenly dry and tongue thick. She had been called pretty, but never gorgeous. His few words made her blood flow faster, her pulse beating rapidly. Her voice croaked, her naturally sweet and silky tone gone. She clasped her throat lightly with one hand.
"Today must be the Heavens' saddest day, for they've lost an angel to the Clayr. Glory must be your name, for you hold the grace of the gods, and that is the highest honor. Your beauty radiates around you like lighthouse to a ship, and I have set anchor in your harbor."
Glory was once again speechless. A tinge of red flushed against the soft, tan tones of her cheeks. "Thank you," she said again, in the voice that wasn't hers. S he paused and raised an eyebrow. With a laugh, she spoke again, "H - How did you know my name?"
The soldier left is poetic image behind and smiled shyly, making him appear as a child for the first time. Glory, somehow, liked this side of him better than the charms, though that had impressed her. "It's hard not to see your angelic presence. The chains against my wrists broke free when I saw you, and now I am at your command. You are a graceful creature, Glory." He smiled shyly again, a twinkling smiled that sent his eyes lighting up with the flames of fall's leaves. Beautiful. That was a first as well. "I'll have to admit, it wasn't my intuition that supplied your name." The soldier leaned to his left with a smile.
Renny, another soldier's arms around her waist, waved sheepishly. Glory laughed again and he joined in with her, soprano and tenor voices ringing together like a perfect melody. She felt the urge to throw her around him and kiss him crazy. He would scoop her up in his strong, firm grip, and it would be just liked she always imagined...
"My name is Elijah, by the way," he said as their laughter died down. Her cheeks were still flushed, and he loved the way the red blended with the tan of her skin. He bowed to her on bended knee and smiled. Being with him felt so right, her heart said, but her mind was telling her otherwise, that is was all too sudden. While her heart and her mind were conversing, Glory decided to speak.
"Where do you come from?"
"Belisaere, but my faimly originates in Aunden. What is your full name, Glory?"
"Glory Catalina Sayre."
"Very pretty. Suits you well."
Glory breathed out a sigh of relief. Lirael didn't use her last name often, as to protect her family. Abhorsen didn't call for the use of names, for that was her identification alone. Glory, of course, was safe at the Glacier, but Nick...
"And yours?"
"Elijah Damien Gordin."
"Attached?" Glory blurted out, not thinking. Her eyes went wide and she clapped her hands over her mouth. What ever happened to the manners her mother taught her? Lirael would skin her alive if she only knew.
Elijah chuckled, picking up her hands once more. She loved the sound of his laugh, the huskiness of it soothing and comforting, two feelings that never felt this way before. She felt so confused, so torn, so soon.
"No, miss, I am not. No ties. But, I'm willing to change that," Elijah hinted. Glory's reddened cheeks grew brighter, and he lifted her hands up to his lips again. "The question is, are you willing, m'lady?"
Glory nodded slightly, and Elijah laughed again, this time loud and clear, ringing across the Hall. The noise quieted down a bit, and people turned to look. Elijah didn't see, and he kept on laughing. She watched him laughing, his face set aglow, his eyes sparkling all the more. His hair shifted as he moved, changing his features as he rocked. The sight of him made her laugh as well, and the melody sang out once more.
"Tell me about you, Glory. Question for a question, eh?" Elijah said, laughter still hanging on his voice.
"How old are you, Elijah?"
"Nineteen. And you?"
"Fifteen. Color?"
Elijah looked her robes up and down, then grinned. "Red." She giggled at his wandering eyes, the sound forever locked in his memory. "Flower?"
"Lily. Hot or cold?"
"Cold." She smiled. Clayr loved the chill, the Glacier being their home. "Belisaere or the country?"
"The Glacier. Charter or Free?"
"Charter." Elijah pulled her hand from her lap, and directed her fingers to the Charter mark on his forehead, which had been covered by his brown tresses. She touched his skin, the magic from the baptismal mark flowing into her. His magic was pure, the symbol not crumbling away. "Night or day?"
"Night. Love or friendship?"
"Love. Me or him?" Elijah chuckled as he pointed to the nearest solider.
"You. Me or her?" Glory pointed to a young Clayr, barely thirteen, just awoken with the Sight. She was still awkward, her true beauty yet to be uncovered. She reminded Glory much of herself just four years before.
"Tempting," he joked, "but you. Inside or out?"
"Out. Left or right?"
Elijah raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly. She doubled over with laughter, leaning forward. Her face was inches from hers. She could see the perfectly blended color of his eyes, and a scar above the right brow she'd neglected to see. He leaned in, quickly, and kissed her left cheek, and then quickly straightened. It was a brotherly kiss, nothing
more, but still it brought the rose into her cheeks.
"Left." He smiled, childishly again, and chuckled, his voice low and warm, mellow. The sound sent a wave of cold over her backside, and it wrapped her up in sure and strong arms, somewhat like she imagined the feel of his to be.
"Attention!" It was Sanar who spoke, with Ryelle standing faithfully at her side. The room silence almost immediately, the sounds that once were echoed throughout the Hall. The ringing of her voice replaced it, the voice that demanded respect and listening Clayr, and soldiers now as well.
"The soldiers will be left alone now. Clayr, please exit and go to your quarters, or to wherever you need to be. Any white robed young woman caught here afterwards shall be punished. No exceptions, unless a valid excuse with permission first. Thank you. You're excused."
The room full of white stood and began to walk through the doors. They called last goodbyes and promised to return again. Sanar's words, "white robed young women" was used loosely, and she knew it applied to her and Renny as well. She hadn't been given any slack for being the Abhorsen's daughter.
"One last question Glory. Will you come and see me again?"
"Yes, I believe I shall. Now, one last for me." She paused, as if thinking, but the question had been on her mind for minutes. "True or false: All's fair in love and war."
He thought for a moment, then spoke. "True."
"Good answer."
"Good question." Glory turned away, leaving the red and gold soldier for the time. She heard him speak, just low enough for her to hear, for she was just a few steps away.
"Count your steps for me, Glory, from the door. I will come to visit, if you let me."
She nodded, the only recognition she gave. She walked through the doors and stood for a moment, and then began walking again, counting the steps so carefully.
Behind her, Elijah's friends gather around. With beaming smiles, they spoke of the Clayr they'd come accquainted with. When it came to Elijah, they couldn't help but poke fun at the rosiness in his cheeks.
"Eli, I think someone's in love!" said one of the soldiers, slapping Elijah's shoulder playfully.
"Is that what you call it? Love? No, men, Elijah Gordin is in lust."
"If you laid eyes on the red-robed beauty he's entranced with, you wouldn't blame him," spoke Avi, Elijah's best mate. "But of course, my Renny is a sure match for his angel."
Elijah smiled. He was the one shimmering with glory, not them, and he spoke quietly.
"You jest at scars that never felt a wound.
But soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Glory Sayre is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That though her maid art far more fair that she...
...It is my lady, O, it is my love!"
A/N: I warned you about the Shakespeare. So don't sue me, I'm not claiming it.
I accidentily uploaded the wrong chapter. So ignore the last one. It was the second chapter to Crimson Regrets, not this. ^^
Hope you liked it. Please review, I'll appreciate it.