This is Prompt No. 8-Trust
"I trust him. I trust him. I trust him," Mitchie kept chanting as she fell. She squeezed her eyes shut, continuing to remind herself in the few seconds that she fell that she trusted Shane completely.
Her legs took the brunt of the force as she crashed into something solid, not the water she had been expecting. Her legs buckled under the force, and the rest of her body collided with the hard surface, knocking the breath out of her lungs for a moment. "Oof!" she cried as her back bounced off the surface, jarring her head.
She lay there for a moment, trying to regain the breath she had lost. With a great deal of effort, she managed to roll onto her side and sit up, seeing for the first time what she had landed on. The surface was a rectangular hunk of wood attached to the side of the ship, barely wide enough for a person, but just wide enough for her to land on. She looked up and found herself staring into glass, and smiled. "Of course," she said softly.
Shane had dropped her right outside their tiny room, and Mitchie was able to open the portal with only a slight bit of effort. Getting through it was another matter entirely. She managed to squeeze in by wiggling her hips quite a bit, and then she landed on the floor, safe and sound once again.
Now, the real question that plagued her mind was what to do about the fight two levels above her. Should she remain where she was and wait for the fighting to end? Should she charge back up onto the deck without a weapon? No, that would be foolish, she realized, and just plain stupid.
She was still deciding when she heard a wail from up above her, sounding strangely like her name. "Mitchieeeeeeeeee!" the person screamed, sounding as though his heart was being ripped out in the process. Mitchie felt a wave of cold fear wash over her as she realized that it was Shane's voice she was hearing.
She bolted out of the room, her feet sliding along as she dashed down the corridor of the ship. She launched herself at the stairs and made it only halfway up when she realized that there were no longer any common battle sounds. Everything was quiet except for the rain and the sound of Shane's keening. Instinct made her crouch down, waiting to see what would happen next.
"Give it up, lads," a voice said, and Mitchie identified it as the captain. "You can go back to your queen now. The prisoner is dead."
Another voice, one coated in commanding arrogance, scoffed, "How do we know that she is really dead? Do you think us that stupid?"
A couple of the sailors muttered something that Mitchie could not make out, but she smiled, imagining what it might be. The captain responded immediately, saying, "You saw Mr. Grey drop her. No one could survive that fall into the ocean. She'd be crushed, and even if she did miraculously survive, she'd drown because of those waves." Mitchie could almost see him shaking his head as he went on, "No, I'm afraid we've lost her."
There was a long pause, and Mitchie held her breath, envisioning the captain of the royal navy standing toe to toe with the brave, skilled captain of the little ship she and her husband had fled the country on.
"Fine." The word was clipped, and Mitchie guessed that the navy captain was close to pouting as he said it. "We shall commit her body to the sea. May she rot in hell for what she's done to our country and queen." The disgust was so evident in his speech that Mitchie could envision exactly what his face looked like. His next words, though, surprised and horrified her. "What about that man who tried to save her?"
"No," Mitchie whispered, her right hand balling into a fist and pressing up against her teeth. "No, not Shane!"
The captain sounded surprised as he said, "Surely you don't think he had anything to do with this, do you?" he asked the navy captain. He gave a short, convincing laugh of one who is laughing at another's absurdity. "Why, he's a man from my very own crew! Never met her 'til she ran aboard. I'll warrant he's developed a liking to her, but he'll get over it soon enough. You have nothing to fear from him."
The pause seemed to stretch on for a very long time, longer than was absolutely necessary. Mitchie held her breath, envisioning the navy officer sizing her husband up, weighing whether or not the captain was telling the truth. "Very well," he finally said, "but I never want to see you in London again, or your life will be mine."
Mitchie guessed that this warning was aimed at Shane, for she heard him say quickly, "Aye aye, sir," inserting a half sob for good measure. "Now that she's gone, I never want to see these blasted waters again!"
The navy captain sniffed, completely unsympathetic. "Good," he said, and Mitchie could hear him walking across the deck. "All my men, back on the ship!" he ordered, and after a long while, they were gone.
Mitchie, however, could not find the strength to pull herself up from where she sat. Her legs refused to move, and the severity of the issue slammed into her at full impact. They had been so close to dying…again. Was it never going to end? Her bones felt as though they had been replaced by water, and they weighed her down, paralyzing her, yet causing her to shake all over.
There was a sound above her, and then the tap of boots coming down the ladder. She used all of her strength to pull her chin up so that she could look at the person that was about to step on her. There, she was rewarded, because there stood Shane, looking down at her with a fierce look of alarm on his face. He leapt down the remaining stairs and gathered her into his arms, pulling her off the stairs and around behind them so that the shadows shielded their bodies, protecting them from all the prying eyes. It was like the time they had found each other at the party and he had whiskered her away for a kiss, only this time there was no lightness to the conversation.
"Mitchie, oh Mitchie," he whispered, kissing her hair and holding her tightly. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"
Mitchie found the strength to shake her head from side to side. "No," she whispered, her voice shaking.
Shane held her close. "Relax, Mitch," he whispered to her. "You've got to relax. You're going into shock."
Shock. Is that what this emotion she was feeling was? Who knew that shock could completely shut down your entire body in a matter of seconds? She tried to take deep breaths, and she found that that seemed to work. "When will it end?" she whispered to him.
"When will what end?" he asked.
"The running for our lives," she told him. "When will we stop having to worry about dying at every turn?"
Shane looked grim, but he responded honestly. "When the war ends and our job is over," he told her. He pulled her closer still, which she hadn't realized was possible, and began to slowly rock her. The last words she heard before she slipped into an exhausted sleep were, "But don't worry, my love, we're going home."
A/N: Did you like it?? Let me know! (a.k.a REVIEW!!) Sorry to some of you that I never thanked for reviewing. FF kept telling me that I couldn't respond because I "wasn't the author"! Ha! Of course I am! ;) Anyways, I didn't forget you, so thank you so much! Only seven chapters left! Oh my gosh! :D
