Here's the rewritten chapter 5. I saw the movie again, had to fix it, was
driving me up the f***ing wall. New content! Read and review! I crave
reviews!
Jessie: Perhaps she's an addict.
Me: Go to your room.
Jessie: O-kay. R/R, pretty please!
Hey, does anyone know what an "Estelle Lynn" is?
Chapter Five: The Birthday, and the Battle
"Jessie's birthday?" Henry asked. "Yes, but it's not a big deal. I've already got her gift." Allan said, then jumped in surprise when the rest of the League crowded around him, firing off questions. "Does she like things from the Orient?" "I can probably nick a few things..." "What books does she like?" "I could give her my dead rat on a string."
* * *
"'Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, as I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door." As she said this, a knock came to her door. "'Tis some visitor,'" She said to herself and opened the door. Allan smiled down at her and held out a hand. "Hmm?" "Come on. I have something for you." Jessie sighed, wondering what the big secret was. Having more interesting things to worry about, she'd forgotten her own birthday. "Where are we going?" "The mess hall." "Why?" "Because we are. It could be fate, you know?" Jessie stopped and looked up at her father. Shaking her head, she sighed, murmuring, "If it is, it is, and if it isn't, then it isn't, but if it couldn't be, and was anyway, then it's fate." Allan arched an eyebrow, and she said, "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, Alice in Wonderland." "I knew that. I did," he insisted when she began laughing. "I did indeed, and you know it. Hush, you." "Yes, Daddy." She skipped off ahead.
* * *
"That was nice of everyone," Jessie mumbled, being carried in Allan's arms as it was late, and she was too tired to walk. "I liked the cake. I forgot my own birthday, how... silly. Strawberry cake was brilliant. And, the... the ice cream was... was...." She fell asleep on Allan's shoulder, eyelashes drifting down to form dark crescents against her pale cheeks. Allan was surprised she hadn't been more upset. As far as she knew, she hadn't gotten any birthday presents, just cake and ice cream (though ice cream was a rare treat for her) and Dorian had even been graceful enough to show her a few magic tricks. Thanks to Mrs. Harker, at any rate, he thought darkly. Now, Allan laid Jessie upon her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her goodnight. It was a shame she was sleeping, because there was an assortment of packages in the corner of her room that she probably wanted to see. "Sleep tight, little Harper girl. May angels wing you to dream land." He stopped at the door to look back at her, so innocent and peaceful, then shut her door and left.
* * *
Jessie's mind was rushing, speeding down avenues of memory so fast that, even asleep, she was getting a headache. Flashes of memory from the last few days sped past her eyes. Then, her strange, inhuman mind sped back farther, past her younger years, her toddler days, her infancy, to when she wasn't even born, being carried by her mother. And she remembered her mother's warning. My Harper child, beware the immortal. Be cautious, be wary. Make your father take care of them all, the extraordinaries. I don't know which, but the immortal. The long lived one. Be cautious, my darling. Beware the water, beware the charming smile, beware the dark confines of the sea charger. Beware one who worships death, beware one who defies it. Beware one who suffers it not, beware one who gives it no thought, my child. Take care. I may not be able to help you then. Remember this, my sweet daughter. Remember... remember... Jessie's mind wouldn't allow her to hear anymore, but jerked her to the present time, and then to the future, and showed her visions. Henry arguing with her father on the dock, his eyes scared. Dorian's sneering face. Skinner watching Dorian, invisible. Dorian taking a photograph of something. Tom, rifle in hand, head hanging in sorrow. Mina and Dorian locked in combat. Henry's smiling face in a porthole, looking out as a reflection at Edward, grinning, saying, "Well done." The images were going too fast to keep up! She saw a portrait, a rotting skeleton with eyes wide and dark, long wisps of white hair flowing from the white skull, teeth rotting from the mouth. Something in Jessie's soul, trying to preserve her sanity, shrieked an alarm, and the child knew what she was looking at. Dorian. She sagged, weighted by the enormity of what she'd seen. Nobody had ever seen the portrait of Dorian Gray, she knew. She knew it. And yet, she had, and she knew what lay beneath that handsome, charming exterior. That old, horrifying thing, dead and rotting... "No!" Jessie hugged herself, shuddering. The image changed to a vision of her mother. Long, straight black hair was flowing down her back, parted in the middle and adorned with a comb of black jade and black ivory. Her clothes were simple, a sari of black silk, and a shirt- the kind Indian women wore- of blood red. Her dark blue eyes were gentle with maternal love, and there was a tender smile on her full lips. Her husband- Jessie's stepfather, she thought- stood behind her mother, and smiled encouragingly. "I'm afraid, Mommy. I don't know what all this means! Is Dorian the one you spoke of? Or Miss Mina? Or who? Mommy, I don't understand my visions, and I don't know how to help Daddy, and I'm scared! Mommy, tell me, what am I supposed to do?" Jessie fell at her mother's feet, but the woman lifted her up into her arms and kissed her cheek. In her head, Jessie heard a sweet voice whispering softly. I'm sorry, my darling. I don't know the futures better than you. You are my daughter, born with my gifts, and among those is foresight. I'm sorry you are so helpless, my love. I have suffered these dreams with you, and I know their meaning no better than you or the gods. Try your best. I'm truly sorry. There is nothing I can do to help you, my child. It is forbidden. To do so would bring death, to me and all I would interfere with. I am so, so terribly sorry. Please, forgive me. It took Jessie a few minutes to realize her mother was crying. Jessie put her arms around her and kissed her. "It's alright, Mommy. I'll manage, and I forgive you." When she was set on her feet, her mother and her mother's husband vanished. Jessie looked around, hurt, then jumped when a man maybe eight feet tall, with pale skin, dreamy blue eyes, and black hair, came and knelt before her. "Who... who are you?" I am the one they call Peredon, Lord of Dreams. Your mother has asked me to bless your night, and rid you of all evils in your sleep. Only I can do such a thing, for I am the Dream Weaver. Will you accept the blessing? "Tell my Mommy... thank you, but no. I need to receive visions so I know what to expect, at least somewhat. Please, can't you just... dull my brain so I'm not as scared?" Peredon looked into her eyes for a moment, then smiled softly. Very well, my Lady. Jessie watched Peredon fade. Ash took his place. "Jesshiquekah, my dearest Jesshiquekah, let me hold you." The Druid boy hugged her tight, and stayed with her as the visions overtook her again. When she awoke, it was just before dawn, and she was lying in bed, calm. For the first time since being on board the sea ship, she hadn't banged her head shooting up from her bed in fright.
Jessie: Perhaps she's an addict.
Me: Go to your room.
Jessie: O-kay. R/R, pretty please!
Hey, does anyone know what an "Estelle Lynn" is?
Chapter Five: The Birthday, and the Battle
"Jessie's birthday?" Henry asked. "Yes, but it's not a big deal. I've already got her gift." Allan said, then jumped in surprise when the rest of the League crowded around him, firing off questions. "Does she like things from the Orient?" "I can probably nick a few things..." "What books does she like?" "I could give her my dead rat on a string."
* * *
"'Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, as I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door." As she said this, a knock came to her door. "'Tis some visitor,'" She said to herself and opened the door. Allan smiled down at her and held out a hand. "Hmm?" "Come on. I have something for you." Jessie sighed, wondering what the big secret was. Having more interesting things to worry about, she'd forgotten her own birthday. "Where are we going?" "The mess hall." "Why?" "Because we are. It could be fate, you know?" Jessie stopped and looked up at her father. Shaking her head, she sighed, murmuring, "If it is, it is, and if it isn't, then it isn't, but if it couldn't be, and was anyway, then it's fate." Allan arched an eyebrow, and she said, "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, Alice in Wonderland." "I knew that. I did," he insisted when she began laughing. "I did indeed, and you know it. Hush, you." "Yes, Daddy." She skipped off ahead.
* * *
"That was nice of everyone," Jessie mumbled, being carried in Allan's arms as it was late, and she was too tired to walk. "I liked the cake. I forgot my own birthday, how... silly. Strawberry cake was brilliant. And, the... the ice cream was... was...." She fell asleep on Allan's shoulder, eyelashes drifting down to form dark crescents against her pale cheeks. Allan was surprised she hadn't been more upset. As far as she knew, she hadn't gotten any birthday presents, just cake and ice cream (though ice cream was a rare treat for her) and Dorian had even been graceful enough to show her a few magic tricks. Thanks to Mrs. Harker, at any rate, he thought darkly. Now, Allan laid Jessie upon her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her goodnight. It was a shame she was sleeping, because there was an assortment of packages in the corner of her room that she probably wanted to see. "Sleep tight, little Harper girl. May angels wing you to dream land." He stopped at the door to look back at her, so innocent and peaceful, then shut her door and left.
* * *
Jessie's mind was rushing, speeding down avenues of memory so fast that, even asleep, she was getting a headache. Flashes of memory from the last few days sped past her eyes. Then, her strange, inhuman mind sped back farther, past her younger years, her toddler days, her infancy, to when she wasn't even born, being carried by her mother. And she remembered her mother's warning. My Harper child, beware the immortal. Be cautious, be wary. Make your father take care of them all, the extraordinaries. I don't know which, but the immortal. The long lived one. Be cautious, my darling. Beware the water, beware the charming smile, beware the dark confines of the sea charger. Beware one who worships death, beware one who defies it. Beware one who suffers it not, beware one who gives it no thought, my child. Take care. I may not be able to help you then. Remember this, my sweet daughter. Remember... remember... Jessie's mind wouldn't allow her to hear anymore, but jerked her to the present time, and then to the future, and showed her visions. Henry arguing with her father on the dock, his eyes scared. Dorian's sneering face. Skinner watching Dorian, invisible. Dorian taking a photograph of something. Tom, rifle in hand, head hanging in sorrow. Mina and Dorian locked in combat. Henry's smiling face in a porthole, looking out as a reflection at Edward, grinning, saying, "Well done." The images were going too fast to keep up! She saw a portrait, a rotting skeleton with eyes wide and dark, long wisps of white hair flowing from the white skull, teeth rotting from the mouth. Something in Jessie's soul, trying to preserve her sanity, shrieked an alarm, and the child knew what she was looking at. Dorian. She sagged, weighted by the enormity of what she'd seen. Nobody had ever seen the portrait of Dorian Gray, she knew. She knew it. And yet, she had, and she knew what lay beneath that handsome, charming exterior. That old, horrifying thing, dead and rotting... "No!" Jessie hugged herself, shuddering. The image changed to a vision of her mother. Long, straight black hair was flowing down her back, parted in the middle and adorned with a comb of black jade and black ivory. Her clothes were simple, a sari of black silk, and a shirt- the kind Indian women wore- of blood red. Her dark blue eyes were gentle with maternal love, and there was a tender smile on her full lips. Her husband- Jessie's stepfather, she thought- stood behind her mother, and smiled encouragingly. "I'm afraid, Mommy. I don't know what all this means! Is Dorian the one you spoke of? Or Miss Mina? Or who? Mommy, I don't understand my visions, and I don't know how to help Daddy, and I'm scared! Mommy, tell me, what am I supposed to do?" Jessie fell at her mother's feet, but the woman lifted her up into her arms and kissed her cheek. In her head, Jessie heard a sweet voice whispering softly. I'm sorry, my darling. I don't know the futures better than you. You are my daughter, born with my gifts, and among those is foresight. I'm sorry you are so helpless, my love. I have suffered these dreams with you, and I know their meaning no better than you or the gods. Try your best. I'm truly sorry. There is nothing I can do to help you, my child. It is forbidden. To do so would bring death, to me and all I would interfere with. I am so, so terribly sorry. Please, forgive me. It took Jessie a few minutes to realize her mother was crying. Jessie put her arms around her and kissed her. "It's alright, Mommy. I'll manage, and I forgive you." When she was set on her feet, her mother and her mother's husband vanished. Jessie looked around, hurt, then jumped when a man maybe eight feet tall, with pale skin, dreamy blue eyes, and black hair, came and knelt before her. "Who... who are you?" I am the one they call Peredon, Lord of Dreams. Your mother has asked me to bless your night, and rid you of all evils in your sleep. Only I can do such a thing, for I am the Dream Weaver. Will you accept the blessing? "Tell my Mommy... thank you, but no. I need to receive visions so I know what to expect, at least somewhat. Please, can't you just... dull my brain so I'm not as scared?" Peredon looked into her eyes for a moment, then smiled softly. Very well, my Lady. Jessie watched Peredon fade. Ash took his place. "Jesshiquekah, my dearest Jesshiquekah, let me hold you." The Druid boy hugged her tight, and stayed with her as the visions overtook her again. When she awoke, it was just before dawn, and she was lying in bed, calm. For the first time since being on board the sea ship, she hadn't banged her head shooting up from her bed in fright.