On the Wings of an Angel Chapter 23: Renewed Vows, a disney fanfic

ON THE WINGS OF AN ANGEL

Long time, no see, friends and fellow readers. Never fear; I live, as does this story. Writer's block's been a killer, and any ideas I came up with were for my original novels. Speaking of which, I've made a wonderful deal of progress with those babies. While far from an official career as an author, I find myself moving one step closer every day.

Characters (with exceptions) © Disney

Story © unicorn-skydancer08

Chapter 23: Renewed Vows

The next day was gray and bleak. While the rain held off, the thick clouds still enfolded everything in a gloomy shade. A lusty wind blew through the leaves and rippled the long grass. Folks for miles around were strongly advised to keep away (and especially keep their children and animals away) from any form of running water, as the water ran much higher and swifter today.

Terence found his mood suited the morning perfectly. He got up from his bed, still garbed in his clothes from the day before, feeling groggy and achy. Not having the strength or incentive to trim his beard or draw a bath, he simply splashed cold water against his face and used his bare fingers to try to straighten his tousled hair.

Afterward, he approached Pinocchio's closed door, but stood still outside it. Twice, he made an attempt to knock, but ended up dropping his hand again. With a heavy sigh, he turned and walked the other way.

In the kitchen, he brewed himself some tea and slathered some butter on a few slices of bread, but even at the table, he just sat and stared into his tea while he listlessly stirred it around. At length, he pushed his cup to the side and leaned forward, bringing his forehead down on his folded arms. He did not know how long he'd stayed like that by the time he heard a small voice say his name.

Recognizing Jiminy's voice, the young man opened his eyes and slowly lifted his head to see the cricket standing in front of him on the table.

"Terence?" Jiminy said again, more as an expression of concern than an inquiry.

"'Lo, Jiminy," Terence murmured back as he rubbed his brow and pressed his lids with his fingertips.

"Rough night, eh?"

"One of the worst." When Terence dropped his hands a minute later, he asked, "What do you want from me?"

Jiminy answered softly, "Just thought I'd check up on you, make sure you're okay."

"From the way you see me right now," Terence said, with the slightest hint of sarcasm, "I'd say it's pretty obvious how 'okay' I am."

"I can see that," said the cricket, feeling himself flush a bit. He waited another minute before he added, "And also, I wanted to talk to you. About Pinoke, that is."

"What about him?"

Jiminy looked around, as if to check for possible eavesdroppers, and then settled onto the edge of the butter dish as he explained, "It's about the way he and you have been getting along lately."

Covering his eyes with his left hand, Terence said jadedly, "Please spare me the lecture, Jiminy. I'm already well aware of how I acted yesterday, and I feel bad enough as it is. Please don't rub it in."

"But it goes beyond that," Jiminy said. "I think I know the source of Pinoke's problem. The way he snapped his cap last afternoon, and all that."

Terence kept his hand pressed to his face, but his eyes regarded the cricket from a crack between his middle and index fingers. "You do?"

Jiminy nodded glumly. "Yeah, and it ain't pretty, either. I doubt I'm the right guy to tell you this, but someone might as well." He drew a deep breath. "You see, Terence, while we were at the lake yesterday, just after we had our picnic, Pinocchio told me—"

A loud knock on the main door barged in on the conversation right then.

Terence sighed and pushed his chair back, saying, "Hold that thought." He stood up once more and headed into the next room, and after a short pause, Jiminy followed.

To Terence's genuine surprise, Rhiella was at the door when he dragged it aside. She was bundled up in her old blue cloak, and she swept into the house without waiting for his invitation. With some effort, Terence closed the door, though a few stray leaves found their way through before he got the thing shut.

"Rhiella, what are you—" The words were hardly out of his mouth when she flung herself into his arms; she would have knocked him backward if he hadn't braced himself. To further add to his astonishment, she was crying. He stood stock-still for a few seconds before letting himself sink into the embrace. Rhiella's hood had slipped, and her luxuriant hair spilled freely down the length of her back. While she did not cry hysterically, Terence could hear her sniffling a great deal, and there was no mistaking the warm dampness on his front.

"Rhiella." He had to say her name at least five times before he got her attention. When she was finally facing him properly, he touched her moist cheek and asked softly, "Darling, whatever on earth is the matter?"

"Oh, Terence," she blurted tearfully, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry?" He repeated the word like it was foreign. "What for? You haven't done anything."

Pushing just a little further back, but keeping as tight a hold on him as ever, she said without delay, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm sorry for what I said, for making it sound like you had to choose between me and Pinocchio."

Terence's postured stiffened somewhat, but he said nothing.

Rhiella shook her head as she continued, "I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I couldn't get any sleep that night, and this morning, I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to see you, to talk to you…to apologize. I'm sorry, Terence. Please forgive me."

At this sincere plea, a flood of warmth rushed through Terence, and he smiled for the first time that day as he answered, "Of course, I forgive you, darling. You know it takes so much more than that to alienate me from you." His face and tone became serious again. "But really, I knew from the first you would never truly try to come between Pinocchio and me. I know, even now, that you're so much better than that. A thousand times better."

"Yes," said Rhiella softly, lowering her gaze. "I'm just sorry I gave the impression that I was giving up on Pinocchio, that I didn't care about him. I do care, because you care." She looked up again and asked softly, "Do you understand?"

"Perfectly." Terence smoothed away a stray tendril of her hair and gently kissed her forehead.

"So you're not angry with me?"

"I was never angry with you, sweetheart. Worried, yes; discouraged, by all means—but never angry."

Indescribable relief flooded Rhiella's face, and her tears now began to fall for a different reason. Terence could feel that familiar spring in his own eyes as he gathered her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly she nearly choked him, while he immersed his face in her hair and took in her precious scent.

Unbeknownst to them, Pinocchio was just coming in from his room. He was every bit as bedraggled as Terence had been that morning, his clothes every bit as rumpled; one sleeve of his vest drooped off his shoulder, while his cap rested askance on his head. The boy had been all set to apologize to Terence for his previous behavior, and he stopped short at the sight of his guardian and his guardian's girlfriend hugging like crazy, acting like they hadn't seen each other in forever. "I really do love you, Terence," he could barely hear Rhiella say. "I never want to lose you again, least of all over something like this."

"You'll never have to fear such, my beloved," Terence's almost indiscernible voice replied. "Now that I've got you, nothing and nobody is going to keep me away."

"You're the only one in this whole, wide world for me," she sobbed.

"And there is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with—and so far beyond that—than you."

Pinocchio felt these words as he would a hammer between the eyes. It was as if his heart were a fragile vase, just knocked from its perch onto the hard floor below. Tears welled up afresh, blurring his surroundings. A fist-sized lump blocked his throat. Unwilling to let Terence and Rhiella know of his being there, unable to stay there, the boy turned and fled like an animal pursued in a hunt. Neither Terence nor Rhiella noticed—nor did Jiminy, for that matter.

In fact, of the entire household, only Duke spotted Pinocchio as the boy raced for the back door. When Pinocchio made it through that door, into the gray and blustery open, Duke knew something must be wrong, and the collie promptly bolted after him.