A Slightly Different Turn

Chapter Five

Love is stronger than Magic

A/N: I can't believe it! Did you know that the last time I updated was in January? All you who were reading it before will probably have to read it all over again to remember it. This will be the last chapter, although there will possibly be a short epilogue and perhaps a sequel, depending on response. I feel terrible, because I like this fic, but I simply do not have enough time to keep up four fics, and I feel constricted whenever I want to start a new one because of that. If anyone else would like to take up this fic and write a sequel, they would be perfectly welcome. Just email me at lindsaymiller at pacbell dot net with any details, etc.

Mel groaned and opened her eyes, willing all of her horrible, terrifying memories to just go away.

She didn't have the will anymore. To live, she had to love life, and that was something that she had had before.

Not anymore.

Her muscles ached, and there were scratches all over her. Flauvic had certainly compromised her, although she could not remember it actually happening.

She had passed out. And that was shameful. She was a strong girl – no, woman, and no matter how bad the pain was, she should not ever have given up. That was what she had done. She had given up, and Flauvic had done unspeakable things to her.

She had given up the moment he had pressed her against the wall.

She was ashamed.

She would never admit it, but a part of her deep inside had still felt that awful, disgusting attraction that she had felt as a girl when Flauvic had first kissed her.

Then, she had been innocent. She had still been a little girl, unaware of the intricacies of court intrigue and power-lust. She was no longer that innocent girl. Now, she was not even fit for Danric, should he ever be separated from the barriers of the magic that Flauvic had set upon him.

Silently, she sent out a plea to Danric, hoping that somehow, somewhere, deep in his mind, he would know.

Just know.

Suddenly, Mel was aware of her condition.

She was back in the cell, lying on the dank, musty floor. She wore a white dress that had been torn. There were dark stains on it that she knew was blood.

The darkness consumed her, but she wasn't frightened.

Just incredibly, bone-achingly tired.

She just wanted it all to be over. Everything. Now that she had nothing, no one to live for, there was no reason to go on living.

There is always something to live for.

The sudden voice in her mind caused her head to snap upwards, jerking her out of her reverie.

"Danric?" she whispered, hoping against all hope that it was, indeed he who was calling her.

Suddenly, she remembered that awful few hours, down in Flauvic's torture chamber. The few hours that she had tried with all her might to forget.

Shevraeth had talked to her then as well.

Yes, it is me.

"Come here, be with me Danric," she moaned, the loneliness and helplessness that made her cringe creeping into her speech.

I don't know if I can.

"Try Danric, try."

I will.

A pause.

For you. I love you.

Mel hung her head, tears leaking out of her eyes. How could he love her, after what Flauvic had done? Perhaps he didn't—

I know, he whispered in her mind, the touch like the brush of a feather against her cheek. I will always love you. I always have.

"How can you love me?" Mel couldn't help the huge, choking sob that escaped her when she said that. She was even more ashamed of herself for being unable to control her emotions. Why hadn't she fought back? Why hadn't she tried to stop him, stop everything? Since when had she not been strong?

You are strong.

Danric's voice startled Mel out of her downward-spiralling thoughts.

I am coming.

"But—But, the magic. It's too strong."

You will see.

The voice was fading from her mind, the comforting presence of her love dying, leaving her memory.

"No! Don't go! Dan—"

The cell door swung open, smashing loudly against the wall, causing Mel to cringe. The guard for the cell had heard her crying.

"Shut up, you bitch. Stop your moani—uunnhh." His rant was stopped by something, and he fell forward, eyes glazing over.

There was a knife in his back.

Mel looked up.

There, with his magnificent gold hair and mysterious, cloudy gray eyes, stood Vidanric Renselaus, Marquis of Shevraeth, in all his glory.

He took a step forward as Mel struggled to her feet, tripping several times. She stumbled over the body of the guard, then leaned against the wall for support.

Finally, she willed herself to look up at the man that she loved.

She was drowning in those eyes.

"Danric, I—" She was cut off by the Marquis' bruising lips, so different, yet so similar to those of the other blond-haired man. He crushed her against the wall, and she moaned.

Suddenly, and feeling of being trapped consumed her, and she found she couldn't breathe. She was drowning, but this time it wasn't the good kind.

Mel stiffened in Danric's grasp, and he immediately let go of her.

"What is it?" he asked, concern lighting his eyes.

"I—I can't," Mel whispered. "Not now. Not—not after what he—what he did. To me." Her voice seemed to stutter in all the wrong places, and she still was finding it hard to breathe. Tears were coming to her eyes, and she squeezed them together, the salty water burning her eyes.

A gentle touch on her arm caused her to look up.

"Sshh…" he said simply. "I understand." Mel looked up at him and swallowed her tears, willing herself to be brave. For him.

"I—I still love you though."

"I know."

And that was it.

There were a few more seconds of silence and then Mel spoke.

"Flauvic?"

"Gone," said Danric.

"How?"

"Hill Folk."

"What?"

"He's a tree."

"Everyone else?"

"Unfrozen. They don't remember any of it."

They spoke no more.

Instead, Mel fell into Danric's arms, and cried into his shoulder, and he held her.

A/N: Well, that turned out differently than expected. It was sad. And they didn't end up together. Well, not really. Maybe the epilogue/sequel (depending on how long it will be) will be about how they learn to love one another again.

FIN

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