Hate This And I'll Love You: Host
The-Muse-In-Me
Disclaimer: I really wish I owned Alanna and Jonathan but you know... Some things can never be true... –sigh-
I apologize. I realize that it has been over two months since I started this story and it's taken me that long to get the second chapter up. xPP I'm sorry!! The first three reviews I got were telling me how mean I was for leaving it at a cliffy... Sorry! I also tried to break this chapter up more than the last one but you xPP
Many thanks to:DAMNED-LIKE-BEAUTY – My first reviewer
Head-in-the-Clouds, Edwardjustproposedand buggie21 – Who made me lock myself in my room for hours to get the chapter finished xP
In an attempt to calm Alanna down he placed one hand on each side of her face.
No one would have been prepared for what happened next.
Blinding lights dazzled Jon. He clenched his eyes shut to block it out but that only made it feel as if it was getting brighter. Something in the back of his mind made him realize that the light wasn't coming from Alanna, or from anywhere else for that matter. The light was coming from him.
Everything was falling away, wiping itself from existence. A powerful surge blasted up the prince's arms and his imagination began drawing vague lines of royal purple and deep blue dancing around each other with an unnatural grace, like silk caught in a wandering breeze. Something about the sight sent a ghostly chill down Jon's majestic form, as if he knew it wasn't right. The threads were beginning to blend, lines no longer visible as a looming shadow blurred the shapes and dulled the sharpness of the night time shades.
Jon opened his eyes but the image didn't go away. There was a faint picture forming. He gasped with awe and pain. Something was attacking his heart, ripping it to pieces from the inside. He could see peoples faces, a man sat at a desk with two red haired children before him. He watched as the children turned away to walk out of the room with a dejected sigh.
Jon followed them and saw in the dull light of the passage in which they were stood that there were two Alanna's.
Wait, that's not right Ah! Thom!
He looked again and couldn't see the slightest bit of difference between the two, even when he stepped a bit closer nothing really became clearer. If anything it was going blurred.
His Dream-form, as he decided to call it, looked around and saw the colours washing off the walls and another memory painting itself upon the blank canvas.
Jon stood blinking, drinking in the profuse sight. To among the memories of another. What am I doing here? This isn't right, I can't stay here.
'Don't be scared.' Jon's Dream-form looked around quickly.
'Who are you?'
'You need to be here. You need to see this.'
The voice was sounding from everywhere. A voice so perfect that it could shatter the souls of a thousand leagacies just to bring them back together again. A shudder rolled down Jon's spine. 'Who are you? Answer me!'
His commanding tone wavered as the scene before him reached completion.
'Do not question further. You must stay and you will leave when you are invited to.'
'Why are you holding me here! I just want to help Alanna, I need to know she's okay!'
A chuckle sounded somewhere in the back of him mind. 'What makes you think I brought you here?'
Jonathan pondered these words for a moment before deciding it was better not to ask for an explanation. The all-knowing tone in the ghostly voice made him sense that he wasn't going to receive an adequate answer anyway.
He surveyed the scene in front of him. He was in something which resembled a disused barn. A scarce light was issued to his surroundings by means of a small window barely large enough for a cat to crawl through.
His attention suddenly snapped towards a shabby looking door which was just managing to hang onto its hinges. A grubby man barged through the door dragging something behind him with little effort. Stepping closer the prince gasped involuntarily. He could hear nothing of the scene but the sight would forever remain in his memory.
A small bloodied Alanna was lying on the floor. Her form was limp, as if she'd given up but the way her eyes were clenched shut stated that she was conscious. Her lips were also moving.
They were dry and chapped but she didn't seem to notice the blood trickling down her chin while she was mindlessly reciting the words to some obviously well known verse.
Jon rushed forward and fell to his knees by Alanna's side. He called her name to no avail, privately knowing that she wouldn't be able to hear him. He moved to put his hand on her face but let out a wail of despair as the filthy man hauled her from the ground and onto a stained and dishevelled bed. Jon watched in utter shock as her saw Alanna's body give no sign of retaliation.
The man was tying her to the bed. The rope, Jon saw, was coarse, the sort used for securing large kegs of ale; something more commonly associated with strength than comfort. Alanna was becoming slightly more aware of what was happening. She lifted her head to look dazedly at her wrists and tried to pull her hand away.
It was with nothing more than a slight disbelief that the young girl realized she was unable to move. What's happened to you, my love?
As he was using a rag to cover up her eyes a raw anger boiled up inside of Jon, the likes of which he had never known. He made to punch the man but missed. He pulled back puzzled. He went to punch the man again and with a slight jolt he saw his fist sinking through the man's skull.
Retracting his arm slowly he stared at the man. He had the face of a man in his early twenties Jon would have said. To his surprise, he was also clean shaven. He was obviously a man who knew how to look after himself, despite his lack of decent attire.
He looked back down at Alanna and felt his heart break for not the first time that night. What had this beast done to her? She was wearing shirt and breeches with far too many holes showing of the bruises both faded and new. There was also horrendously deep laceration running from somewhere near her right shoulder down to just below her belly button. Blood was still seeping from the wound and crimson flowers had blossomed heavily across her chest.
She had also acquired scratches to many parts of her body which had peppered the skin with small flecks of dried blood.
He turned back to the man who had sat in a chair opposite the bed. He was saying something which was having an effect on Alanna. She began struggling against the bonds as if wishful of ripping the posters clean off the bed.
The scene before Jon was unfolding and as he slowly put together the pieces: Alanna tied to a bed, the man whispering something made Alanna immediately aware of everything, the small yet obvious tent forming in the man's loose cotton breeches...
The man left his seat in a movement almost too quick to follow and was crouched at Alanna's feet, running his hands down her sides and hooking his fingers underneath the waste band of her breeches...
Jon turned away as hot tears streamed down his face. He couldn't watch this. Alanna had to be nothing more than ten years old in this memory.
Oh my God, it's a memory. This is Alanna's past. Jon fell to his knees in despair. He turned back to scene in front of him and almost retched. The man pounded into Alanna relentlessly, forcefully smashing her head into the stone wall which served as a head board.
'Stop it! Stop it now! Leave her alone! Get off her!' Jon was screaming at the top of his lungs with salty tears making it almost impossible for him to discern any certain shapes. 'Please!.. Please don't do this to her... You can't do this to her...'
He could see Alanna's face. He could see the tears rolling down the side of her face. They were the same tears. The tears he had watched her shed when he was trying to comfort her were the same tears. And they were the tears he was crying, the tears that hitched his breath and hurt his throat and wouldn't stop falling.
The man was gone. He hadn't noticed the man leave. Jonathan crawled up to the bedside. He tried putting his hand on her face to dry the tears but his hand faded through as it had before. But now he could feel something on his cheek. He could feel his hand on his own cheek.
Because we're both together. Always. I'm never going to let you go Alanna.
Everything was fading and Alanna's eyes were slowly closing.
Because I know I couldn't possibly
The last of Jon's essence dissolved slowly as darkness truly engulfed them.
I love you.
Hehe, it's the 1st of March x Lol. If you have any questions about this chapter or my first chapter then please ask. I need to be told when I've messed up or else I'll never get it sorted xPP
I just looked through the first chapter and saw stupid spelling mistakes.. And people say I type too fast -cough-
Thank you for reading! Just press the button and leave a review! Constructive criticism is very welcome
- Muse
