Chapter Eight

Joshua sat in a large, comfortable chair with one hand resting on the arm rest and the other supporting his chin. He was still dressed in the same shirt and breeches he had been wearing for the past thirty six hours;none ofwhich had been spent in sleep. He had ridden back to his brother-in-law's castle like a madman and arrived at the gates in the predawn darkness that made even the familiar landscape seem dangerous to the precious burden held ever so carefully in his arms. His mind flew back to those manic hours as he stared at the unmoving form asleep in his bed.

Lizzie had remained unconscious the entire ride home, nestled conscientiously against him. Joshua had been grateful for that, since that meant she hadn't seen him crying like a child. The tears had trickled down his face and into her hair.

"I love you," he whispered, nuzzling her cautiously, terrified of the emotions that coursed through his body. He had always been cool and detached, able to face any situation with a dry wit and sarcasm that had become his trademark. But not anymore. Lizzie had changed all that. Being around her made him into someone new, someone he had never known before. And the thought of losing her now was one he would not, could not entertain.

Joshua burst through the palace gates like a bat out of hell. He dismounted, shouting for one of the servants to take care of his horse, and entered the house with an angry stride that would have made all cringe from him in fear. The castle had all been asleep and Joshua had a feeling that they didn't want to be woken up by another set of casualties tonight, since he had sent Maurice here with a knife in his back but a few hours earlier. Besides, he was trained in healing, though he disliked using his powers unless he had to.

Joshua carried Lizzie up to his room, feeling a momentary pang of worry as he set her down on his own bed. But he told himself that he didn't want to let her go anywhere else in case someone found out about her and, in truth, the thought of letting her out of his sight was intolerable.

Biting his lips worriedly, Joshua unwrapped his cloak from around her and forced himself to, once again, look at the atrocity of what Andrew had done. It was terrible—the small bruises that he had seen before had bloomed into spectacular black and blue marks and her entire lower body until her knees was covered in pinkish, dried liquid. With a disgusted grimace, Joshua went to the ewer by his dresser and dipped the towel into the magically warmed water. He wrung it out a little then began the long process of washing her clean. Though the situation was quite possibly the least romantic he had ever been in, he couldn't help but admire her. Joshua was gentle as he washed Lizzie clean, swearing with every moment to avenge himself on the bastard that had done this.

Once she was no longer covered in the remains of her ordeal, Joshua gently began to rub ointment onto the dark bruises. It pained him to see her so hurt and alone, lying there. All he really wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Joshua smiled tenderly and dropped a kiss on her forehead, unafraid to show his affection when he was the only one who could know about it.

He pulled the duvet out from under her and tucked her in. Her hair was spread around her on the pillow, like a dark halo around his fallen angel. He had sunk into the chair, exhausted and upset, but he could not fall asleep until he knew that she was okay. So he remained there, shut up in his room without food or sleep, just waiting for his beauty to awaken.

Lizzie found herself being drawn out of a very strange dream. She had felt as though she was lying on a cloud made of shimmering silk and as she floated forward, a hole in the cloud grew and threatened to swallow her up. As she fell through, she woke up with a start, terrified of plummeting to death. In those first few moments between sleep and wakefulness, she thought she was still ensconced in the cloud, enveloped in its warmth. But when she opened her eyes, she found that the soft, downy like material around her was actually a goose feather duvet that smelled oddly familiar. She looked around the room in which she found herself. It was unfamiliar to her, decorated in muted shades of green and ebony. 'Where am I?' she thought to herself. In that one moment, the events of two nights previous came flying back with a vengeance to haunt her. She gasped in despair as she remembered what her tormentor had done to her. Lizzie found her arms wrapped around herself, hugging her body and curling up into a small ball, unmindful of the pain in her legs and abdomen. She drew the only conclusion possible, that she was now in the bedroom of her rapist, looking forward to naught but life as his whore and prisoner.

"Lizzie," called a soft voice from behind her, but she paid it no need, lost in a world of her own hurt. A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder and she jumped in fear. "Hush," said a soothingly familiar voice. "Don't worry, Lizzie." The hand rubbed her back tenderly as the voice continued to calm her with murmured nothings. Lizzie could finally place the voice and dared to open her eyes and look up into the face she knew would be staring down at her.

"Joshua," she breathed, meeting his sea green eyes. He smiled broadly at her and knelt by the side of the bed. "Joshua, where am I?"

"Erm," he began, sounding rather embarrassed, "You're in my bedroom."

Lizzie's eyes went wide. "I'm in your bedroom?"

"I couldn't think of anywhere else safe for you!" he said defensively. "What else was I supposed to do?"

She just shook her head and laughed softly. Josh stroked her cheek, which made her smile a little as well. They stared at each other for a long while, words that could not yet be spoken passing through their smoldering gaze. Lizzie looked away first, the memories of agony fresh in her mind.

"Well," Joshua said, "How do you feel?"

"Awful," she answered truthfully. "I'm trying not to remember what happened." Joshua shook his head.

"Lizzie, if you do that, it will haunt you until the day you die," he said.

Lizzie trembled. "It will anyway," she whispered. Joshua, abandoning all pretense of propriety, pulled her into his arms and held her as tight as he could. Her arms snaked around him, pressing against his back as she reveled in the feelings of safety and protection that practically radiated from him. She didn't even notice that his hands were on her bare back and his silk shirt was the only thing between her chest and his. Joshua noticed, but thought it a much better idea not to comment.

"I… I…" she stuttered, clutching at him.

"Shh," Joshua murmured tenderly. "It's alright now. Everything's going to be alright.

Lizzie laughed bitterly. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I'm never going to let you out of my sight again," he answered, turning his head so that they were cheek to cheek. "So you don't really have to worry, do you?"

Lizzie pulled back and stared at him, surprised. His eyes were drawn rather irresistibly to her bare chest and she suddenly realized that she was completely unclothed. Turning a brilliant shade of vermillion, Lizzie dove back beneath the duvet and hid so that naught but her hair was visible. Joshua couldn't help himself and burst out laughing.

"Oh, poor Lizzie," he said, nearly crying with mirth.

"Go away," she mumbled clinging tighter to the blanket.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Joshua said, his voice suddenly perfectly serious. "I just want to make sure that you're okay. I want to make sure that we can still laugh together and spend time together and that everything could just go back to how it was." Joshua had no idea where these words were coming from; the bottom of his heart didn't even begin to explain it. "If I could, I would erase every vestige of that bastard's actions, but I can't. I wish I had been there to protect you, but I wasn't." He cringed and fought back tears. "I'm so sorry." Lizzie slowly peered out from underneath the covers to see Joshua sitting above her with his fists clenched and his eyes shut tight. She let one hand creep out and hold his.

"I wish you could too," she replied, clinging to him. He accepted her cautious attempts at comfort and summoned one of his nightshirts.

"This is going to be enormous on you," he said, putting it in her hands. "I'll turn around so that you can get dressed."

"Thanks," she said, pulling the garment on as soon as she was sure he was no longer looking. It came down to her knees was loose enough to hide her under it. "I feel like I'm dressed in a tent," she grumbled good naturedly.

Joshua turned back around. "I don't know, I think it's rather fetching." They grinned at one another before she flung herself back into his arms.

"I hate him," she hissed, her previous attempts to pretend that what had happened was just a nightmare was failing miserably.

"Me too," he said, caressing her hair and fighting the impulse to kiss her. He gently lifted her up into his arms and carried her to his chair. He let her curl up against him and kept his arms locked around her—fighting the fierce feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him feel like it was going to drop out any minute.

"How could he do this to me?" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Because he's a terrible bastard," Joshua answered, more for himself than for her.

"I noticed that," she answered, unable to help herself. "I'm sorry I was mad at you about him. I think I understand where you're coming from a little better."

"Yeah," Joshua agreed. "But that's all over now."

"How is it all over?"

"I'm going to kill him," Joshua answered. "I sent him away once, I can kill him the next time."

"How did you send him away?" Lizzie whispered, trying to distract herself and doing a fair to middling job of it. "He's a rather powerful wizard."

"Are you insinuating that I'm not?" Joshua replied, tapping her on the nose with a smile.

"More powerful than him?"

"More…resourceful. Believe me, you're safe with me."

"I know."

They lapsed back into silence. Joshua was thinking of her and her only, while Lizzie's thoughts were occupied in a much more unpleasant manner. She could not erase the memory of his hands from her mind, the thought of his touch, his lips, his body. She cringed, trying not to remember.

"Lizzie," Joshua breathed, stroking her cheek. "Tell me about it."

"No!" she answered vehemently.

"It'll help," he insisted, gently drawing her out of her shell. "I know what happened, I saw it. And I promise you'll feel better if you talk about it."

"Are you sure?" she sniffled, wanting to talk and yet, at the same time, wanting to hide any trace of her ordeal.

"Positive." So she steeled herself and told him what had happened. Joshua was a good listener, attending to her every word and encouraging her when the memories became too hard for her to handle.

Lizzie finally finished. She took one last deep breath, then buried her face in his chest again. He let her, mulling over her words. Joshua had known what had happened, but knowing it and hearing it from her mouth were two totally different things. The desire to assert to himself that he will die for his crimes resurfaced, but he knew that, except in very specific circumstances, speech was nigh on useless. And neither of them were ready to take on Andrew. She needed to recover her inner strength and he had to prepare himself. But at least there was a silver lining to this terrible storm cloud. He knew the identity of Rose's kidnapper and what he was after. Andrew wanted revenge on Maurice and, through that, he would be able to reach… Joshua stopped that train of thought, though his mind had already filled his own name in there. He wants to hurt me, he was forced to admit. I'll never be free of him, not now, not until the day he dies. Which won't be soon enough.

"What are you thinking about?" Lizzie asked nervously.

"Whether I should have him hanged, drawn and quartered or hanged, drawn and eighthed," Joshua answered his voice perfectly serious,

"I'd prefer the latter."

"I'll even let you help wield the axe," Joshua offered gallantly, smiling and brushing a thin tendril of hair from her eyes.

"How…generous of you." Lizzie couldn't help but feel a little better, at least on the shallowest of levels. Just being with Joshua made her feel better already. And it was that thought that drew her back down into the depths of despair.

"What is it?" Joshua asked worriedly as Lizzie wrenched herself out of his lap and stormed away, trembling visibly. He was up immediately, following her as she sat down on his bed and tucked herself up into an infinitesimally tiny ball. Her knees were hugged defensively to her chest and her hair fell around her like a protective curtain. Her eyes were dry, but that was merely because she had no tears left to cry. "Lizzie, what happened?" His voice rose a little higher than usual from panic and he cringed, wishing that he sounded more like a twenty five year old wizard of great power and less like a scared pubescent boy.

"Go away," she said, her voice shaky.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Joshua said unequivocally. "If I did anything wrong, I-"

"That's just the problem," she nearly howled. "You haven't done a single thing wrong! Jesú, this would be so much easier if you had."

Joshua paused, his hand an inch away from touching her back. "You want me to do something wrong?"

"No!" She buried her face in her hands. "I just don't want to feel like I can have something I can't."

"What do you mean?" He put his arm around her and she shrugged it off.

"You're not a woman," she told him, her voice calming slightly. "You don't understand what rape means." She looked up at him, her eyes deep wells of despair. "It means that you are defiled, disgusting, worthless. You have been broken; something is wrong with you. Losing the mark of a virgin is worse than losing your life. You could never understand."

"Lizzie," he breathed, laying a hand on her cheek; wanting to tell her that it didn't matter, that he didn't care. He would love her until the end of time, whether she was a virgin or a whore, though the latter wouldn't please him much.

"Get away," she hissed. "I don't want you to be close to me, I don't want a reminder of what I'll never have."

"Never?"

"There are, perhaps, three men on this entire earth who would marry a girl without the skills of a peasant or the white of a virgin. And that's leaving my own happiness out of the accounting." She stared at him. "It's quite hopeless." She believed those words whole heartedly and was not searching for false comforts. She was just trying to explain what she knew deep down; that she was broken, worthless. His answer, however, astounded her.

"Three?" he asked, not quite sure what exactly he was about to say or caring. The adoration he felt for her, the love that he could no longer suppress had to come out in words and she had given him the perfect opening. She turned to him and was about to reply acerbically, but he cut her off. "Lizzie, you only need one." Her jaw dropped.

"Joshua, did you completely miss the poi-"

"Of course not," he answered, pressing one finger to her lips. He hated to admit it, but he was enjoying himself. "You only need one man to love you forever...don't you think you have him already?" Her frightened eyeslocked on Joshua's perfectly serious green eyes, expressionless as the mask that covered his face.

"Joshua…" she whispered, her voice so quiet as to nearly not exist at all.

"I love you," he said, surprised at how easily those three weighted words left his lips. "More than anything in the world." She looked away, terrified of the feelings inside of her, the way that his words pierced her soul. He watched her, half agony, half hope and waited for her reaction.

"Do you really love me?" she asked, looking up at him with such adulation in her eyes, he actually thought his heart stopped beating for a moment.

"I can do naught else," was his gentle reply. "I adore you, Lizzie." Her hands reached up of their own accord and tangled in his hair. Smiling, he drew her close and held her. She pressed her cheek to his, saying nothing, just standing there and letting the sheer ecstasy of being loved overwhelm her.

"Well," he said softly. "Do you love me back?" Lizzie knew he was only asking to hear her say the same words as he had, cross the same bridge he had.

"I do," she answered. With all the care and tenderness he had, Joshua bent his head and pressed his lips against her own. Her hands tightened around his neck and she shut her eyes, one last tear leaking out from beneath them. It trickled down her face and brushed Joshua's lips as he pulled away for the first time.

"Why do you cry?" he asked her, catching the tear before it fell.

"I don't know," she answered shakily. "Perhaps it's because you've drawn away." He smiled at the shy invitation and the feeling behind her words.

"I think I can fix that," he murmured in her ear before touching his lips to hers again. They sat there, wrapped in one another's arms until Joshua finally fell asleep with his love held close.

To Be Continued

A/N – Aww. Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Don't worry, Lizzie and Joshua aren't going to be like this for the rest of the story; this was an extenuating circumstance. They'll get all snarky and sarcastic again. And if you think it's going to get easier just because they've woken up and seen what's been in front of their faces all along, you've got another thing coming. Hopefully I'll update a little sooner, now that I'm on a roll here...Yeah, and pigs will fly. Review, it's the only way to guilt trip me into doing anything!

Love,

Levana (Damian)