Author's Note: Look! I found the original Chapter 10! Hurrah! Enjoy,
guys!
Sunlight filtered through the shuttered windows like little golden lances and dust motes danced in them and seemed to create their own melancholy ballet. Kate looked around the seemingly deserted room with swiftly fading blue eyes. Was no one here? It didn't matter. Kate was in too much pain, now, to think about anything else, and so collapsed upon the nearest cot - however dusty it was. After three days of a rock-hard prison floor, the meagre straw mattress was something of a luxury.
::You must be more tired than I'd expected,: came the soft MindVoice, as Dante entered and closed the door behind himself. The Darkness that surrounded them, then, was like a little touch of home - or what used to answer to that name. ::Just relax while I see what I can find. There should be some supplies around here. At least something to ease the pain a bit. If I can find that much, you should be okay until more help arrives.::
So, this wasn't a one-man show...
Kate nodded, the ache in her jaw - now that the euphoria of battle had subsided - was swiftly making a comeback. What a fine mess she'd managed to get herself into... On the run, seriously injured, and lost somewhere in another realm with a dashingly handsome man in stark-white clothing. But were they truly lost?
Dante returned with a small vile of something in his hands. ::Here. Drink it all.::
Kate snatched the vile from him, eager for something that would ease the pain, and yanked the cork from the slender glass neck. A bitter odor wafted from it, like toxic fumes from poison. 'Maybe it is poison,' Kate's wary mind whispered, and inhibition kept her hand from raising the flask to her ruby lips, 'He's not really here to rescue you... he's an assasin - out for the reward of bringing your head to Pyrte on a platter.' Either way, death was better than the hell she was muddling through now.
She brought the vile to her lips and poured the contents into her mouth; moments later, sleep washed over her like a wave and drown her in dreamless slumber.
** **
The very first time Dante had seen a sketch of the woman he was supposed to rescue, the spark of something he couldn't identify flickered in his brain and refused to fade. He'd volunteered for the mission to the Realm of Darkness without really knowing why he did it. After all, this particular invasion of the Kingdom had been called - among comrades - a suicide mission. Why, then, had he risked life and limb for a Princess born of hatred and despair?
Looking at her now, as she drifted endlessly upon the sea of drug-induced slumber, Dante knew exactly why. He reached a gentle hand out to touch her face, smoothing away the strands of sable hair that'd hidden her perfect complexion from him for too long. Those lips - so soft and yet strong at the same time... Dante longed to kiss them, if only just once, and taste the flavor of her skin.
He smiled even as the angry purple of a bruise covered the left side of her face, sighed as he watched her sleeping, and dreamed of the things he didn't dare speak out loud.
But Dante was a gentleman through and through. He hadn't come here to take advantage of a woman who'd be emotionally unstable, nor had he rescued her only in hopes of becoming something more to her than her hero. He wanted to gain her trust and respect, no matter how long it took.
Hands that were well accustomed to the task ground a powder in a pestle and added water from a rain-barrel that rested like a sentry in the corner of the room. He tore a strip from his tunic and dipped it into the mix, then ever so carefully began to wipe away the blood and grime from the milky- white skin.
'Beneath that mask of hate and defiance,' he thought, 'hides a girl who is afraid to love.'
**
**
Kate came awake all at once, instead of gradually riding from the whispers of a dream she'd been to tired to remeber, and opened her eyes to find she wasn't in her own bed, her own room - and she remembered just exactly where she was (and why).
She discovered that she'd been undressed in her slumber, bandaged and thoroughly cleaned from the waist up. Her hair rustled in her ears as she turned her head upon the pillow, silently taking in all that was around her without the hinderance of blinding pain and fatigue. So, this place wasn't quite so run down as she'd seen it earlier... Perhaps pain did something to enhance the senses. Kate began to sit up, and stifled a groan as her stiffened body complained and protested. She was far from healed, it seemed.
A hint of movement in the corner of her eye made Kate turn her head, and her blue-eyed gaze fell upon Dante, who'd been sleeping in a corner alone. He blinked at Kate with depthless eyes and smiled.
"You're awake," he said softly, "It's about time."
Sunlight filtered through the shuttered windows like little golden lances and dust motes danced in them and seemed to create their own melancholy ballet. Kate looked around the seemingly deserted room with swiftly fading blue eyes. Was no one here? It didn't matter. Kate was in too much pain, now, to think about anything else, and so collapsed upon the nearest cot - however dusty it was. After three days of a rock-hard prison floor, the meagre straw mattress was something of a luxury.
::You must be more tired than I'd expected,: came the soft MindVoice, as Dante entered and closed the door behind himself. The Darkness that surrounded them, then, was like a little touch of home - or what used to answer to that name. ::Just relax while I see what I can find. There should be some supplies around here. At least something to ease the pain a bit. If I can find that much, you should be okay until more help arrives.::
So, this wasn't a one-man show...
Kate nodded, the ache in her jaw - now that the euphoria of battle had subsided - was swiftly making a comeback. What a fine mess she'd managed to get herself into... On the run, seriously injured, and lost somewhere in another realm with a dashingly handsome man in stark-white clothing. But were they truly lost?
Dante returned with a small vile of something in his hands. ::Here. Drink it all.::
Kate snatched the vile from him, eager for something that would ease the pain, and yanked the cork from the slender glass neck. A bitter odor wafted from it, like toxic fumes from poison. 'Maybe it is poison,' Kate's wary mind whispered, and inhibition kept her hand from raising the flask to her ruby lips, 'He's not really here to rescue you... he's an assasin - out for the reward of bringing your head to Pyrte on a platter.' Either way, death was better than the hell she was muddling through now.
She brought the vile to her lips and poured the contents into her mouth; moments later, sleep washed over her like a wave and drown her in dreamless slumber.
** **
The very first time Dante had seen a sketch of the woman he was supposed to rescue, the spark of something he couldn't identify flickered in his brain and refused to fade. He'd volunteered for the mission to the Realm of Darkness without really knowing why he did it. After all, this particular invasion of the Kingdom had been called - among comrades - a suicide mission. Why, then, had he risked life and limb for a Princess born of hatred and despair?
Looking at her now, as she drifted endlessly upon the sea of drug-induced slumber, Dante knew exactly why. He reached a gentle hand out to touch her face, smoothing away the strands of sable hair that'd hidden her perfect complexion from him for too long. Those lips - so soft and yet strong at the same time... Dante longed to kiss them, if only just once, and taste the flavor of her skin.
He smiled even as the angry purple of a bruise covered the left side of her face, sighed as he watched her sleeping, and dreamed of the things he didn't dare speak out loud.
But Dante was a gentleman through and through. He hadn't come here to take advantage of a woman who'd be emotionally unstable, nor had he rescued her only in hopes of becoming something more to her than her hero. He wanted to gain her trust and respect, no matter how long it took.
Hands that were well accustomed to the task ground a powder in a pestle and added water from a rain-barrel that rested like a sentry in the corner of the room. He tore a strip from his tunic and dipped it into the mix, then ever so carefully began to wipe away the blood and grime from the milky- white skin.
'Beneath that mask of hate and defiance,' he thought, 'hides a girl who is afraid to love.'
**
**
Kate came awake all at once, instead of gradually riding from the whispers of a dream she'd been to tired to remeber, and opened her eyes to find she wasn't in her own bed, her own room - and she remembered just exactly where she was (and why).
She discovered that she'd been undressed in her slumber, bandaged and thoroughly cleaned from the waist up. Her hair rustled in her ears as she turned her head upon the pillow, silently taking in all that was around her without the hinderance of blinding pain and fatigue. So, this place wasn't quite so run down as she'd seen it earlier... Perhaps pain did something to enhance the senses. Kate began to sit up, and stifled a groan as her stiffened body complained and protested. She was far from healed, it seemed.
A hint of movement in the corner of her eye made Kate turn her head, and her blue-eyed gaze fell upon Dante, who'd been sleeping in a corner alone. He blinked at Kate with depthless eyes and smiled.
"You're awake," he said softly, "It's about time."