A/N: SURPRISE! I had a guest author write this for me, since I wanted to add on to the other stories I have been working on and since I thought it would be a fantastic treat to have my favorite fanfiction author write for you guys. THANKS TO TUTSTEMPLAR! I love you for this!
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The
night's dark grip was at its strongest at this time- yet, in a
strange
way, it was almost warm and inviting, the call of its
mystery that of the
unknown.
And, after all, does not
every small girl crave an adventure of her own at
one point in her
childhood?
"Are you going to glare at the stars all night,
or are you going to cease
detaining us and join the gypsies by the
camp fire?" Felicity stares at me,
as though exasperated, like
one would be with a petulant child. Her hips ** at
a seducing
angle, her dainty hands resting lithely upon them.
"Of
course. Sorry for the inconvenience." I smile half-heartedly.
"It's
the nerves, I suppose."
"Oh, now don't you pay any
mind to that Kartik fellow. Who's to say
he's worth any? After
all, can any among us guarantee if he shall even be
there?"
This
thought brightens my melancholy mood considerably. "Perhaps you
are
right. Perhaps, if fortune smiles upon me this night, he shall
be absent."
"All a dream needs is one fool worthy enough
to uphold it." Felicity
nods, the corners of her lips curling.
"Not that you're a fool, Gemma."
"Now, who in their
right mind would think Gemma a fool? Surely to call one
a fool,
you must be one yourself?" Ann seems genuinely perplexed by
the
prospect.
"Unless said person who called the fool a
fool is in fact fool enough to
be a genius, in which case the one
with the title of fool is justly called so,
although to a foolish
extent." I decide to insert my own wisdom.
"I'm sorry,
I didn't quite catch that." Felicity laughs delightedly.
"I
am of the same nature of confusion, Felicity." Pippa floats to
where
Felicity stood. "Although, perhaps for different reasons.
I have caught
absolutely nothing of that conversation, and if this
bit of buffoonery is over
and done with, may we please continue on
our journey to where our gypsy men
await us?"
"Your
gypsy men." I correct her.
"Oh, well, yes, I suppose, if
you care to be literal. However," Pippa
winks at me over her
shoulder as she advances further into the night. "I do
not
object to sharing."
"The very gall of that girl."
Felicity wonders. I am of the same view.
"Quite. Tell
me, do you believe that she is a promiscuous imp? For I am
beginning
to think that myself." Ann admits, wrinkling her nose- whether
in
distaste or humor, I am unsure.
I smile to myself.
"Perhaps." I take a step in Pippa's direction, and
spin back
to face them. "Shall we?"
"I do believe we shall."
Ann nods, seconding Felicity's words, and
together, we follow
after Pippa.
"What is on tonight's agenda?" I
question.
"Sit about the fire. Talk. Laugh. Surely nothing
out of the ordinary."
"Yet it never becomes boring."
Ann adds. "Such a wondrous thing,
that."
"Indeed."
I bite my lip. "Please, do not forget me when you find
your
men."
"Oh, we could never, Gemma. And they all
want to ask you of India, I am
sure. They do love hearing about
other countries."
"Understandable." I say, taking
another step.
After several moments of silence between us
three, as we work our way to the
clearing, where Pippa and the
others already were, we could hear the raucous
laughter of men and
women.
"I do believe that that is our calling." Felicity
says smugly. "Come,
Ann. We must hurry!"
The two of
them sprint off ahead of me, and gain a few yards before Ann
gyrates,
to ask me, "Are you coming, Gemma?"
"In a moment, Ann.
Go ahead. I shall be with you in a moment."
"'If you
say so."
"I do say so. Please, do not wait for me."
Ann
rights herself, and she and Felicity sprint the rest of the distance
to
the clearing.
I smile for no apparent reason. Such
gaiety as this I wonder if I have ever
seen.
I myself
break through the cover of trees within three minutes. Perhaps
more.
I am in no particular hurry.
As I stroll in, I first catch
sight of the flames dancing happily from
within the fire pit. The
warm glow is palpable, and a smile in my relief from
the slight
cold. Cold was fine- cold was good, in fact. But warmth reminded
me
of India, and so provides some sheltered form of comfort.
But
as my eyes dart upwards, I catch sight of Amar exiting the clearing,
a
pale woman on his arm. From this angle, I can tell nothing of
her features-
merely the basis of her physical anatomy.
Well,
there went one friendly face.
I observe the rest of the
troop, looking for my friends. There they are;
Pippa, Ann,
Felicity, all three of them chatting with their gypsy men.
And
then, my stomach falls to the dusty ground with nary a sound.
For
sitting in solitude on the same log as he was before was Kartik.
His
eyes flash to meet my own astonished ones. I look away quickly,
my
cheeks staining a faint pink.
Why?
As I study
every inch of the camp ground from where I stand, excluding where
he
sat, of course, I realize with a faint trace of terror that "Why?"
does
not even remotely begin to cover it.
Once more, all
seats but the ones by Kartik are occupied.
"Felicity? Ann?
Pippa?" They each turn to look at me when their
respective names
are called.
"Yes, Gemma? Come sit down. There is room by
Kartik." Pippa's eyes
flash with a gentle malicious delight.
Ah, the horrors of friendship.
"As enticing as that
sounds, I am afraid I must pass."
"Oh, but why, Gemma?"
Felicity frowns.
"I am not feeling well, I have a
headache." I lie.
"You seemed perfectly fine on our way
over." Ann pipes up.
"Yes, but my stomach began to pain
me as soon as you began to run
ahead."
"I thought you
said you had a headache, Gemma, Darling," Cecily coos.
Whoops.
"Yes, I do." I manage to stutter out. "But I also have
a
stomach ache now. Terribly sorry."
"Ah, that is nothing to worry
about." Ithal waves off my claims, and
begins to dig around
inside a hide sack of sorts. "I have only recently
gathered
medicinal herbs. They shall remedy your ailments immediately."
He
pauses to grin up at me. "They are bitter, yes, but
manageable."
I swallow, trying to look vaguely interested
and grateful. "I appreciate
your kind offer, truly, but it is no
matter. It is tolerable."
"If it is tolerable,"
Benjamin looks up from Ann, "Then why do you not
stay? Please,
we crave your company."
"Oh, don't be rude, Gemma."
Felicity sighs irritably.
"Yes, it is perfectly safe to
sit beside Kartik." Emerson pipes up,
raising his eyebrows
at Kartik. "Kartik here does not bite."
There is
scattered appreciative laughter- Kartik himself does not laugh,
but
merely allows his mouth to twist into an odd sort of grimacing
smile.
"Oh, please, Gemma." Pippa pouts. "Please?"
.
I open my mouth, and close it. Casting my eyes downwards,
my head hung in a
submissive manner; I unsteadily walk to Kartik's
log, and sit down near the
edge.
Several people brake out
into scathing applause.
"Oh, do shut up." I murmur, more
to myself to anything else.
And that is when I feel the
sensation. That sort of goose flesh rising,
shivery feeling. The
type that one receives only when being watched.
I hesitantly
raise my eyes to stare in what I hope to be a discreet manner
at
Kartik.
My sad suspicions are accurate. Kartik stares at me,
glaring, almost, though
not in an entirely offensive way. Still, I
feel self conscious, next to him.
He intimidates me most fiercely,
and at the same time, I find myself unable to
look away, drawn in
by his body, his hair, his face, and especially his eyes.
Speaking
of which, I notice, to my general astonishment, that while
before
they had been a brooding shade of blackish-brown before,
they were now a warm,
inviting shade, and an uncommon one at that,
of liquid gold, infused with
yellow flakes, which intervene the
golden hue at odd intervals.
I look away, but not before
noticing his posture and position.
He was rigid as a board;
not to mention that he was on the complete opposite
end of the
log, as though straining to be polite and yet not run away at
the
same time.
I feel a wave of hurt.
I had not
noticed that the conversation had resumed, but resumed it had, and
a
warm chattering atmosphere had been created.
I am not
interested in the trivial topics. Instead, I poke at the fire with
a
long stick I had unearthed not out of arm's reach from where I
perched.
"Hello." The voice appears seemingly out of
thin air, causing me to jump
in astonishment. With a jolt I
realize that the noise had, in fact, come from
him.
He
said "Hello"?
For some bizarre reason, I found this
inadequate word vastly hilarious.
Wondrous.
I do not look
to him as I respond. "Hello."
He does not speak again.
When I look up, he is staring at me once more. I
feel vulnerable,
and afraid. And also awkward. The awkwardness is predominant.
I
cannot help but to retaliate to unspoken words. "What?" I
murmur
irritably.
He raises one well-formed eyebrow.
"Nothing." He responds, equally as
quiet.
I snap.
"'Nothing.'? What do you mean, 'nothing'? You stand
there-
sit, rather, if you care to be technical, after glaring at me as
though
I am Sin itself, running from me like a coward, when I had
yet to speak to
you, and God knows there's a million other
things to be said that I
shan't, for fear of the virtue of the
ears of the people around us, and you
simply say 'Nothing'?"
I am flushed from my outburst, and shame slowly
creeps its way
throughout my mid-torso.
His brow furrows. He doesn't
respond. Instead, he looks studiously at my
face.
I turn
my putrid glare in the other direction.
"You have a
temper, I see." He seems to be rolling this around, over
his
tongue, as though this was something new to him
entirely.
"Only around you, I'm afraid." My stupidity
has risen to a new level
entirely. Why, oh why, God, would I admit
such a thing to him?
His response is not one I could have
ever anticipated. He chuckles darkly,
in such away that I find I
am unable to refuse the requests of my body, which
turns me to
face him.
As I stare dazedly his face, he reposts, "I
think that I shall take that
as a compliment."
"Oh?
And why ever so?"
He hesitates. "I find that, nowadays,
women are of a confined manner, not
truly being themselves,
instead being what other's wish."
"Is that not the way
of the world?"
"No." He says it harshly, glaring at
the ground in an almost feral way.
"If that is the way of the
world, then I refuse to be a part of it. The
world is not about
controlling, being evil, taking from one what they deserve.
What
they need. I refuse to sin. I refuse to submit to the urges that come
our
way, when they result in another's way."
I find
this astonishing. And, in the corners of my mind, I suspect that
I
was not truly meant to hear what it was he had only just
said.
He confuses me to no end. I now rebuff the impulse to
pay him any heed.
"How noble of you." I respond coldly,
looking the other way.
"Do you think otherwise?"
I
pause, and break my vow just this one time. "No."
He
does not speak, and I stare fixedly at some unseen vantage point.
"I
suppose that I owe you an apology." He ascents.
I do not
respond. I do not want to respond.
Well, that is a lie.
"I
suppose that it would seem that the reason I abandoned the group
just
the other night would be you- but allow me to assure you, it
isn't. I had a
problem to deal with, and unfortunately, my
temper got the best of me. I just
couldn't control my
emotions."
"And you couldn't have found an earlier
time to apologize for this
why?" Well, my promises are now
officially worth not. So much for silence on
my part.
"I
am afraid I have no excuse for that. I am sorry. It was inexcusable
of
me."
"Well," I say, turning to smile at him
briefly. "I wouldn't say
that."
All of a sudden, a
large, heart-melting grin graces his face at my words.
I do
believe my heart missed a beat.
"So, Gemma," He pauses.
"May I call you that?"
"I see no reason why
not."
"Excellent. So, Gemma, you have recently come from
India?"
"Yes."
"Tell me, what was it like?"
He pauses, than adds, "Please?"
"It… it was hot. And
sunny. And beautiful. There were markets, everyday
of the year. It
was unbelievably gorgeous. The merchants, with their foods,
and
silks, and household supplies, their animal hides, and the
entertainers.
Musicians, dancers, and, of course, those men who
would enchant the cobras in
baskets with a mere
instrument."
Kartik raises his eyebrows in polite
amusement. "It sounds a wondrous
place. Do you miss
it?"
"Frequently. It is my home, more so then I wonder if
England will ever
be."
"Do you have family?"
"Yes.
My parents. And my brother." I scrunched up my face.
"You
do not like your brother?"
"He is like those men you
mentioned, the ones who… I believe you said
'submit to their
urges'. He believes that a women's place is shut up and
in the
corner." I cross my arms. "And for that I despise him."
He
seems not to catch the ending of what I say, instead staring fixedly
at
the fire. "I doubt that he is like the men I
mention."
"Really?" I ask skeptically. "Do you
believe them to be different from
my brother?"
"Have
faith when I say that it is safe to claim that he is nothing like
the
men of which I speak."
"You are a peculiar man, Kartik."
I said. Then add, "May I call you
that?"
His mood
changes drastically once more, as yet another of his radiant
smiles
appears at my play of his words. "Yes. Yes, I do believe
you can."
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A/N: Thanks again tutstemplar for writing the most fantastic chapter in my whole story for me! It ended spectacularly. Please r+r!!! not for me, but for dear tuts! :DDDD Song I chose for this was I don't wanna be in love by god-knows-who (no, for those who are wondering, god-knows-who is not the band, I seriously don't know...)
