A/N: Special thanks again to TheChosenOne3 for helping me fill in some
gaps in my knowledge of TLW. Enjoy, everyone!
The next week was fairly uneventful. No one would let Veronica lift a finger, which made her regret telling them about the part in her dream when her mother instructed her to take it easy. She kept to her room most of the time to stay out of the way of the repairs on the tree house.
She hated feeling useless, especially when there was so much work to be done not only in the house, but in preparation for their upcoming journey. But, they all insisted that she had saved their lives during that storm, and if anyone was indebted, it was they to her. So, when she wasn't resting, she spent her time poring over her parents' journals and drawing pictures of her mother. Knowing that she was going to see her again was overwhelming for Veronica. She had dreamed of that day for so long that it she was almost afraid to get her hopes up. But, deep inside she knew that it was really going to happen. And it was hard not to spend her waking moments obsessing over it, since she had nothing else to preoccupy her mind.
Indeed, her friends had very little free time during that week. They were busy during the day, and exhausted in the evenings. However, they always found a few minutes to check on Veronica and see if she needed anything. She especially looked forward to the time of night when Malone stopped in to say good night. She never saw him when she emerged from her room for dinner. Lately, he and Roxton had been keeping long hours, trying to get as much work done as possible. She missed their talks. She had so much to ask him, and so much to tell. But, she knew that he was eager to start doing his share of the work again, and that once they began their journey, there would be plenty of time to talk. After all, if nothing else, they would be able to talk while they were on night watch duty. For now, she would just content herself with his nightly visits.
He always seemed to find his way to her room just as her eye-lids were getting heavy. Tonight was no exception. She was propped up on pillows in bed, reading her parents' journals when she sensed him in the doorway. He hesitated entering. She smiled at him.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" he asked.
"Of course, not. Come in," she replied.
He returned her smile and sat in the chair next to her bed. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful, as always," she replied.
"I'm sorry. I know you don't like being cooped up in here. But you know that you're supposed to rest until you're completely recovered."
"I know," she answered. "It's just tough watching all of you do the work while I sit here. I'm not used to it. But, the good news is, I think I'll be up and about soon." Malone smiled. "What?" she asked.
"It's just that most people would milk this for all it's worth-they'd love to be able to lay in bed all day while everyone else does the work. But not you. You can't wait to be well again so that you can take some of the responsibility from the rest of us." He paused briefly, and then, "You're always looking out for us. You have been since the day we came to the Plateau. You have such a big heart."
Veronica could see the admiration shining in his blue eyes. And something else.could it be love? She blushed at the thought, and quickly changed the subject, silently cursing herself for being so self-conscious. She couldn't help it though. In the past, they had been great friends who were able to talk to each other about anything. But, when it came to the possibility of a romance between them, Malone always seemed to fumble for words, and very rarely said anything to give her hope. However, lately, even though they didn't see much of each other, he seemed to have a newfound confidence when they were together. He didn't seem to fumble with words, or hesitate with gestures. He often took her hand in his as he said good night, and he openly gave her compliments, without justifying them with an excuse. "I did some more drawings today," she told him, pulling out her sketches. He was the only person with whom she shared these sketches. She showed the others the painting of her mother that she had done on the first afternoon that she was awake, but Malone was the only one who knew how occupied her mind was with thoughts of her mother-that she drew pictures of her everyday. Malone felt honored that she shared the sketches with him. In his eyes, she wasn't sharing sketches-she was sharing a part of herself. It was evident in what she drew. At first, the sketches were merely different perspectives of her mother as she saw her in the dream. But, then they started to become like a story. Veronica had begun to sketch scenes from her past-pictures of herself as a child with her mother and father, as well as her hopes for the future-her mother embracing her in a long awaited reunion.
"These are beautiful, Veronica," Malone said. "You know, I missed this. How you would share your art with me, and I would share my journals with you. I kept a journal faithfully on my journey. Actually, I kept two journals-one for all of you, and one for myself. The first one contains accounts of things that I did and saw while I was away. It has pictures and descriptions of plants, animals, tribal rituals-things that I thought would interest all of you. The second one contains my personal thoughts and feelings-kind of an emotional journey to parallel the physical one. But, I soon realized that I was writing things in that journal that weren't meant only for me. That is, the way I wrote it.well, what I'm trying to say is I hope you'll do me the honor of reading both of the journals because there are things in them that I wrote especially for you."
Alarm bells went off in Veronica's head. "I wrote it especially for you." Those words echoed in her ears over and over. Thomas Ducart had said something very similar in reference to the melody he was playing when Veronica met him. Veronica filled with shame, humiliation, and guilt- feelings she had tried to repress since Challenger saved her from Ducart's poison. She couldn't face Ned right now. She had been so happy to have him back in her life that she had forgotten about the terrible mistake she had made while he was away-a mistake she knew she would have to tell him about if she hoped to have a romantic future with him. But it was so hard! Granted, it wasn't like she'd cheated on him. They had made each other no promises. But she was afraid to see the look of disappointment in his face when she told him.afraid that he would lose any romantic interest in her. More importantly, afraid that he would lose all respect for her. She could deal with just being friends with Ned if she had to, but she could never deal with losing his respect.
Veronica realized that Ned was staring at her, waiting for a response. She needed to get him out of here. She wasn't ready to tell him, and his keen reporter's instinct paired with how well he could read her would alert him that something was wrong if she let him stay any longer. "Um.I'd love to read them sometime, Malone. But, right now, I'm really tired. Maybe we could talk more in the morning."
Ned was a little confused by her sudden distance. She always seemed sad to put an end to their evening visits, but now she seemed like she wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. Not to mention, she had called him 'Malone.' That wouldn't have seemed odd to him before he went on his journey. She had always called him by his first name a little more than the rest of the group, but more often than not, she had used his last name. However, he had noticed that since she woke from her fever, she always addressed him as "Ned." He had taken that as a sign that she was thinking of him on a more intimate level. After all, he noticed that Marguerite began referring to Roxton as "John" infinitely more as they grew closer. So hearing Veronica revert to "Malone" again dashed his hopes a little. "Sure, we'll talk more tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Veronica." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and he could have sworn that she flinched a little.
"Sweet dreams, Malone," she answered.
He left her room and paused when he was out of her sight. "What's going on with you, Veronica?" he thought to himself. "I know something is wrong, and I'm going to find out what it is."
Veronica turned out the lamp when he left, but sleep didn't come easily. She kept thinking about how Malone would react when she told him about her time with Ducart. When sleep finally did find her, it wasn't pleasant. In her dreams, she relived the pain and humiliation that Ducart had caused.
TBC!! Longer chapter should be up tomorrow. M/R fans can look forward to a touching scene between the heiress and the hunter. And the journey to Avalon isn't far away!
The next week was fairly uneventful. No one would let Veronica lift a finger, which made her regret telling them about the part in her dream when her mother instructed her to take it easy. She kept to her room most of the time to stay out of the way of the repairs on the tree house.
She hated feeling useless, especially when there was so much work to be done not only in the house, but in preparation for their upcoming journey. But, they all insisted that she had saved their lives during that storm, and if anyone was indebted, it was they to her. So, when she wasn't resting, she spent her time poring over her parents' journals and drawing pictures of her mother. Knowing that she was going to see her again was overwhelming for Veronica. She had dreamed of that day for so long that it she was almost afraid to get her hopes up. But, deep inside she knew that it was really going to happen. And it was hard not to spend her waking moments obsessing over it, since she had nothing else to preoccupy her mind.
Indeed, her friends had very little free time during that week. They were busy during the day, and exhausted in the evenings. However, they always found a few minutes to check on Veronica and see if she needed anything. She especially looked forward to the time of night when Malone stopped in to say good night. She never saw him when she emerged from her room for dinner. Lately, he and Roxton had been keeping long hours, trying to get as much work done as possible. She missed their talks. She had so much to ask him, and so much to tell. But, she knew that he was eager to start doing his share of the work again, and that once they began their journey, there would be plenty of time to talk. After all, if nothing else, they would be able to talk while they were on night watch duty. For now, she would just content herself with his nightly visits.
He always seemed to find his way to her room just as her eye-lids were getting heavy. Tonight was no exception. She was propped up on pillows in bed, reading her parents' journals when she sensed him in the doorway. He hesitated entering. She smiled at him.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?" he asked.
"Of course, not. Come in," she replied.
He returned her smile and sat in the chair next to her bed. "How was your day?"
"Uneventful, as always," she replied.
"I'm sorry. I know you don't like being cooped up in here. But you know that you're supposed to rest until you're completely recovered."
"I know," she answered. "It's just tough watching all of you do the work while I sit here. I'm not used to it. But, the good news is, I think I'll be up and about soon." Malone smiled. "What?" she asked.
"It's just that most people would milk this for all it's worth-they'd love to be able to lay in bed all day while everyone else does the work. But not you. You can't wait to be well again so that you can take some of the responsibility from the rest of us." He paused briefly, and then, "You're always looking out for us. You have been since the day we came to the Plateau. You have such a big heart."
Veronica could see the admiration shining in his blue eyes. And something else.could it be love? She blushed at the thought, and quickly changed the subject, silently cursing herself for being so self-conscious. She couldn't help it though. In the past, they had been great friends who were able to talk to each other about anything. But, when it came to the possibility of a romance between them, Malone always seemed to fumble for words, and very rarely said anything to give her hope. However, lately, even though they didn't see much of each other, he seemed to have a newfound confidence when they were together. He didn't seem to fumble with words, or hesitate with gestures. He often took her hand in his as he said good night, and he openly gave her compliments, without justifying them with an excuse. "I did some more drawings today," she told him, pulling out her sketches. He was the only person with whom she shared these sketches. She showed the others the painting of her mother that she had done on the first afternoon that she was awake, but Malone was the only one who knew how occupied her mind was with thoughts of her mother-that she drew pictures of her everyday. Malone felt honored that she shared the sketches with him. In his eyes, she wasn't sharing sketches-she was sharing a part of herself. It was evident in what she drew. At first, the sketches were merely different perspectives of her mother as she saw her in the dream. But, then they started to become like a story. Veronica had begun to sketch scenes from her past-pictures of herself as a child with her mother and father, as well as her hopes for the future-her mother embracing her in a long awaited reunion.
"These are beautiful, Veronica," Malone said. "You know, I missed this. How you would share your art with me, and I would share my journals with you. I kept a journal faithfully on my journey. Actually, I kept two journals-one for all of you, and one for myself. The first one contains accounts of things that I did and saw while I was away. It has pictures and descriptions of plants, animals, tribal rituals-things that I thought would interest all of you. The second one contains my personal thoughts and feelings-kind of an emotional journey to parallel the physical one. But, I soon realized that I was writing things in that journal that weren't meant only for me. That is, the way I wrote it.well, what I'm trying to say is I hope you'll do me the honor of reading both of the journals because there are things in them that I wrote especially for you."
Alarm bells went off in Veronica's head. "I wrote it especially for you." Those words echoed in her ears over and over. Thomas Ducart had said something very similar in reference to the melody he was playing when Veronica met him. Veronica filled with shame, humiliation, and guilt- feelings she had tried to repress since Challenger saved her from Ducart's poison. She couldn't face Ned right now. She had been so happy to have him back in her life that she had forgotten about the terrible mistake she had made while he was away-a mistake she knew she would have to tell him about if she hoped to have a romantic future with him. But it was so hard! Granted, it wasn't like she'd cheated on him. They had made each other no promises. But she was afraid to see the look of disappointment in his face when she told him.afraid that he would lose any romantic interest in her. More importantly, afraid that he would lose all respect for her. She could deal with just being friends with Ned if she had to, but she could never deal with losing his respect.
Veronica realized that Ned was staring at her, waiting for a response. She needed to get him out of here. She wasn't ready to tell him, and his keen reporter's instinct paired with how well he could read her would alert him that something was wrong if she let him stay any longer. "Um.I'd love to read them sometime, Malone. But, right now, I'm really tired. Maybe we could talk more in the morning."
Ned was a little confused by her sudden distance. She always seemed sad to put an end to their evening visits, but now she seemed like she wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. Not to mention, she had called him 'Malone.' That wouldn't have seemed odd to him before he went on his journey. She had always called him by his first name a little more than the rest of the group, but more often than not, she had used his last name. However, he had noticed that since she woke from her fever, she always addressed him as "Ned." He had taken that as a sign that she was thinking of him on a more intimate level. After all, he noticed that Marguerite began referring to Roxton as "John" infinitely more as they grew closer. So hearing Veronica revert to "Malone" again dashed his hopes a little. "Sure, we'll talk more tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Veronica." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and he could have sworn that she flinched a little.
"Sweet dreams, Malone," she answered.
He left her room and paused when he was out of her sight. "What's going on with you, Veronica?" he thought to himself. "I know something is wrong, and I'm going to find out what it is."
Veronica turned out the lamp when he left, but sleep didn't come easily. She kept thinking about how Malone would react when she told him about her time with Ducart. When sleep finally did find her, it wasn't pleasant. In her dreams, she relived the pain and humiliation that Ducart had caused.
TBC!! Longer chapter should be up tomorrow. M/R fans can look forward to a touching scene between the heiress and the hunter. And the journey to Avalon isn't far away!