OOC:This thread is continued from here (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=16395.msg184797#msg184797).
-----------
The white horse tore across the ground, mud and snow kicking up in it's wake. The path had been long and a cold one, as the weather grew worse and worse with each mile trekked. But fortunately for Leif, he knew where to find the priest he was after. He just hoped his hunch hadn't been incorrect. And he just hope he could trust Attie's heart.
Peering down at the woman laying across his lap, he reminded himself this was for her, for her protection, and now that her secret was 'out', he had little choice in who he could actually trust. And if he ever were to find out 'Father Merric' had been responsible for any part of what happened to Attie, he swore to Ansgar he'd kill him himself.
The Chapel at High Water (a name he only realized, upon his approach, the irony...), was a place now covered in a thick dusting of snow. And his own breath and the horse's were coming out in streamed puffs as they trotted over the wooden bridge that lead to the back stables for the church. And when the stable boy came out to greet them, Leif paused to recall his attire- and swore inwardly. Thank the Gods he had removed his mask, and ditched his cape back in Allar. But the dark suit of armor..
he just hoped did not give his alter ego away. If Merric were to find out he was the Masked Mordecai...
Shaking that thought side, he called the stable by over.
"Father Merric. I must speak with him. Tell him.... Attie is here for him."
He did not want to use his own name, but he knew Attie would draw a different response than his own.
So as the stable hand rushed back inside, he stood there waiting, neck craning up towards the towering steeple of stone. He recalled back to the last time he was inside the steeple of a church- and what was left in the bell tower.
He heard a door open and turned to regard Merric. he saw his expression, and though Leif was scowling he approached him anyway, Attie bundled in his arms.
"I need your help." he said, and just enough of Attie's unconscious face was exposed beneath the blankets, snow kissing lightly against her delicate cheeks. "Attie needs your help." And the last part was spoken in barely a whisper.
The blood on his hands wouldn't be easy to wash away. He neglected to wash them before leaving the city, but he had feared he had been seen and departed the scene as quickly as he could before leaving with the documents in hand. He'd delivered them to their prime destination, to the Sanctuary in Lluin, deep in Fakenrath. But now that that matter was taken care of -
His thoughts were cut short when a young stable hand came into the refectory section of the church, looking for him. He looked at his hands and saw them still stained here and there with blood, but the patterns were light and he dipped his hands once more into some blessed water, cleaned them and splashed his face. The cold water temporarily revived him, recalling he had heard the boy name 'Attie'
His heart beat heavily in his chest as nodded to the boy and followed him out to the rear of Highwater Chapel. He was in simple robes of brown with a blue undertunic and he paused in the evening darkness as he saw the high form of Leif Arrant above his white filthy horse. And bundled in his arms...
"Attalia..." he breathed. His eyes lingered on Leif. "What...what do you need? What happened?"
Upon catching Mercuxio's gaze, Leif did all he could do to fight off a glare.
"I'll... I can tell you inside. Do you have some place for her to lay.. and we... to talk?"
He grit his teeth. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
"Yes we do. In the refectory. Please, come with me," Merric helped steady Leif as he dismounted from the horse and led him inside the chapel in the rear. There were soft beds for the priests that stayed there and an infirmary chamber just down the hall in the eastern wing. Merric led the way and opened the door for him.
"Please lay her on the cot."
Leif hesitated briefly, checking to ensure the room was clear. But it seemed most of the chapel was vacant, so once he lay his sister's unconscious form upon the cot, he immediately turned to Merric and said, "You'll want to close the door."
Mercuxio was way ahead of him and closed the door with a soft click, even locking the door. He moved to stand across from Leif and looked at her with eyes of confusion and some distress. "What has happened? Why is she unconscious?"
Leif frowned, trying to think of the best way to present this information before he sighed.
"You'll find out soon enough- the entire capital city in Allar has been flooded, and it was no fluke of the ocean." Peering down, he looked at Attie, laying motionless on the cot.
"There was a plot concocted to frame her. We barely managed to get her out. But it was the workings of the church. I tried to keep her in hiding... from them," he went on, bitterly. "But they still managed to sniff her out. I dind't know where else to take her... so I figured I'd bring her to you." He peered up at Mercuxio. "I hope I'm not mistaken in trusting Attie's instincts on you. I figured she can't be completely naive enough to fall in love with the enemy."
Mercuxio was flooded with a mix of emotions, and they all pooled within him into a volatile mix. He simply stared at Leif for the longest time before he turned to look at Attalia instead. She looked as if she had just been through hell and back. And from what Leif had just said, if any of it was true - and Merric had no reason to believe it wasn't considering the tension of their relationship - she just had.
He held his breath, unleashing it in a shuddering tone and still said nothing to Attalia. He simply sat down beside the bed and took her hand in his holding it softly and gripping her palm to his. Thank Ansgar he still felt a pulse. But something more sickened his stomach and he frowned deeply.
"How do you know it was the Church?" he asked softly, never taking his eyes off of Attalia.
Leif waited for a long moment before revealing quietly," That's where I found her. And she told.me everything."
His hand squeezed her tighter as if that would some how summon her awake. Merric tried to cool his expression. "An entire city? Flooded? How?"
"They messed with her powers... But instead of curing her, they made her magic worse. She had no control.over it.SShe.... Was attracting the ocean to her."
Mercuxio cut his eyes back to Leif. "That is insanity," he breathed, but his tone was not one of disbelief. "And everyone in the city is...dead?"
Leif frowned and shook his head.
"No, but I'm sure a good bit of them are."
He stared at Merric then down to Attie.
"The reason I brought her here is to keep her away from those of the church who wanted to abuse her powers. They wanted to kill myself at the Duke of Allar as well, but we were not so easily foiled." Peering back up at Merric, he then asked, "Are you willing to take her in? Do you.. have means to protect her? I know... Attie spoke of being very close to you- and though as her brother, I don't approve, I trust Attie's judgement, so I am trusting you. Can you care for her while she recovers? Find a place to keep her safe?"
Merric still felt as all this happened so fast, but he wasn't about to deny him the small favor of which he asked. "Of course I can keep her safe," he said with small confidence. "I would die to protect her, Leif...I believe that's largely one of the reasons you've always hated me so. But I guess that doesn't matter anymore. What matters is here and now, and what I can do to help. Yes, I can protect her. I would even if you didn't ask me too. Now, make yourself useful and retrieve that pail of water from the corner there and pour it into a basin, retrieve a small cloth from the drawer beside it as well."
Leif made a face, but obeyed. He'd do anything for his sister, and moved as swiftly as possible, hoping whatever it was Merric had planned would aid her, all the while his eyes were focused solely on Attie.
It was a simple gesture, that the cloth might help keep fever at bay when he dipped it in the cooling waters and dabbed it across her forehead. "You may remove her shoes. It will make her more comfortable."
Leif hesitated only briefly before bending down and working at the laces and removing his sister's shoes. He didn't like how pale she looked, and when he set the shoes aside, he peered up at Merric.
"She... well.. I'm not certain her power will be contained when she comes to," he murmured, not sure how real delicate he could put it, but there it was. His frown deepened. "She seemed to.. to believe death was the only way that could stop her. But we knocked her out and the waters stopped rising. So I took off from Allar to the first place I figured the church would not look for her- and a person I knew Attie trusted."
Sighing, he continued, "So I'm not sure what we can expect when she awakens..."
Still Mercuxio said nothing in regards to the actions of the Church. He had remembered Leif appearing at the abbey, as if by accident or coincidence. But every Confessor true coincidences were rare and there was no such a thing as accidents. He could not decide, however if he could break his oath of secrets and tell him what he had found in the rubble of that church that day. But he had a feeling that Leif already knew all he needed to about that chapel.
"What will you do now?" Merric said, adjusting Attalia's clothing to make her comfortable as he possibly could.
It was here Leif looked up at Mercuxio.
"I'll stay here until I know my sister is well enough. Then I shall leave her in your care."
"That will be best," Merric murmured, intentionally not clarifying. Then a thought occured to him. "What were you doing that day? When you met me at the chapel when I had arrived with that younger priest?"
Leif cut him a mean glare.
"Praying," he told the man flatly. "What about you?"
Merric sighed. "I had hoped in a time like this that perhaps we could be free of all pretense. But I see that is not the case Lord Arrant. Why do you hate me so? That question, you never deigned to answer."
Leif narrowed his gaze upon him.
"It is because no man is worthy of my sister." And did he have to even justify now his reasons to hate anyone of the church?
"And the church is full of many faults."
And those at fault.
Mercuxio's gaze was steady. "It is a typical sentiment, of shielding and overprotective brothers to their younger kin, sisters in particular. One I share indeed. But I know there is something deeper even you would be hard pressed to share. You hate me most especially. Why? Is it because somehow, despite your influence, I had won her favor?"
Leif cut him a glare, but sighed anyways. His default expression seemed to always be a glare. He was just used to hating on people, presumably his parents, and then, afterwards, the whole world.
"I suppose it's not a fair accusation, but yes, you could say that. But I am also not fond of any of nobility, only because I presume most of us are rats." He looked the man over, still scowling as he did so, but it only eased up briefly when he turned his attention to Attie.
"But I've come to realize not everything is as it seems. Even if you are...part of the church, I will at least give you a chance now to help me protect her. This isn't about me." He flattened his lips. "It's about salvaging whatever is left of her, and to keep her away from those who wish to abuse her again."
Peering up at Merric, her narrowed his gaze.
"But being as I need to trust you with you, I have a few questions to ask you. Such as... what your true involvement is with the church."
Because if he were working wtih those who did this to Attie, he'd kill him right now if he could.
"I'm surprised, Attalia never told you," Mercuxio replied with no small degree of cool indifference, but when he turned his eyes to the woman in the cot, his eyes turned somber. "We were close when we were younger, before I decided to join the priesthood. Despite your reservations about me, I think we're more alike than we both probably would like. I didn't much care for the avarice of the nobility around me.
"I wanted a greater purpose in life. Something nobler than a simple title, I wanted to help people. I still do. But I guess my greatest fault...has always been my care for your sister, Leif. I would die before I would ever hurt her, or see her hurt."
Despite the sincerity and honesty in his tone, Leif frowned.
"I wasn't asking why you joined," he softly growled. "But I suppose you can't divulge all of you job's description."
And neither could he. He wasn't about to give up being the masked mordecai, evne now as he was in half costume. Not that anyone could identify him without his mask on. He peered down at Attie as well, his gaze softening a little.
"She told me that already," he then added quietly. "But only a little and what I was willing to hear."
"Then let it be known that you were at least willing to listen to her trust in me. She's safe here. You have my word as a priest. And if not that, then as a man," Merric said resolutely. And he stood and offered his hand.
At the presence of his hand, he wanted to slap it away, or punch him- but swallowed down his pride and moved to take it, but the second his hand slipped into Merric's- Attie made a breath, a noise that signified she was awakening.
Merric's hand already closed around Leif's by the time Attie showed signs of waking. He gripped it gently before pulling it away and immediately sitting back down beside her. He resumed the dabbing of the wet cloth onto her forehead before putting it back in the basin and grabbing her left hand. "Attie," he whispered. "Attie. Can you hear me?"
A soft groan followed his words, and Leif found himself tensing. Had Mercuxio not beat him to it, he would have been right there at Attie's side, holding her hand when she awoke. But seeing how swiftly he responded, he bit his tongue and simply observed as he stood behind the pair in the shadows.
And though Attalia was awakening, it was hard for her to discern what was going on.
"It hurts," she whispered. "Breathing.." she winced, her eyes still closed. "All over...." And she grit her teeth, and squeezing the hand offered to her.
"Leif look into the cabinet behind you," Mercuxio addressed softly. "There ought to be a few vials there that have something that might help her with the pain. The two dark-greens ones, yeah that's it." Mercuxio continued to dab Attalia's forehead and gave silent prayers that she would awake more soon.
With his heart beating inside his ears, it seemed all sounds in the silent, small room seemed to amplify as he slid open the door open to the cabinet. Fetching the dark green vial, he turned around, closing the cabinet behind him as he moved forward and placed the vial in Merric's hands.
He watched with a frown as Attie gasped and moved softly, gently, but obviously in pain.
"To the pitcher over there, get some water please. It will dissolve the taste for the most part. I don't think we need her retching all over the please." Once the water was in hand, Merric dumped one of the vials into the water and gently stirred it until the green was dull and he carefully lifted Attie's head with one hand.
"Attalia, please, drink." He offered the cup to her, holding it to her lips and allowing her to sip it gradually.
Attie made a noise, and when the watered down substance between to reach her lips, she made a face, sputtered and shook her head.
"I... what!?" her eyes flew open, vision blurry, the world weary and she- light headed so that when she tried to sit up, she immediately dropped back to the cot and began to cough and choke on the bitter liquid inside her mouth until she gagged.
A moment of pause had her laying there, breathing heavy, before she peered through a mess of brown hair at the figures before her- but the world still did not make sense- and she could not fully 'see'.
Mercuxio lifted her head into his arms and cupped a hand beside her cheek. He stroked it gently before pushing her hair out of her face. "Attie, it's all right. I'm here. I'm here with you."
At his attentions, she didn't know what to make of anything and simply sobbed because her emotions were too high to contain. Weakly, she even clung to him, not fully aware her brother was even present.
"By Ansgar's name..." she breathed, but could speak no more as her tears continued to consume her.
He gave a chaste kiss to her forehead, as he might've done anyone in need. But his had been different for her. He held her tight, remembering all their years wasted, all that time that kept them apart. Mercuxio was not accustomed to showing his emotions, much like his father in that respect then he would realize, as he held Attalia to him. But even then he felt tears brimming in his eyes and the pain was evident in his face.
It was after a long moment of sobbing and hugging that Attalia finally pulled away, and stared up curiously into Mercuxio's face. She lifted a hand, cupping his cheek and used a gentle thumb to brush away his tears.
"You're crying.." she whispered. "You rarely ever cry, Merric."
Mercuxio sniffed, not realizing he was and simply smiled at her, or tried to anyway. "Because I haven't seen you in so long... And here you are and..." He sniffed again and he leaned to kiss her palms on either hand. "I'm just happy to see you again."
Her own tears froze for a moment at the gesture, but then she realized she knew not why she was even here.
"How... how did I get here?" The past few hours were nothing but a blur to her- a ghost of nightmares, haunting her within the back of her mind.
It was only here Leif cleared his throat as he approached.
"I brought you here."
At hearing her brother's voice, she whirled around with a gasp.
"L-Leif!?" Her brother only nodded towards her as she stared at him in disbelief.
"Things... were complicated," he said, peering at the two before glancing away. "I needed to take you some place safe. And this was the only place I could think of."
Well,t he only person left he believed, at least, his sister could trust.
"You both arrived only a short while ago, and we took you in as soon as possible," Merric said softly. "You were unconscious and I tried to make you as comfortable as possible.... Attie, Leif told me what happened...."
Attie's eyes wavered, her lips gaping and she, unable to say anything at all.
Leif looked from his sister, then to Merric.
"Attie.... can you recall what happened?"
And at those words, a few tears rolled down her cheeks before her face wrinkled in anger.
"Yes.." she breathed. "I remember everything."
"Then you understand what a severe predicament you are in if the church finds you?"
Her eyes never once left Merric's, hot tears still spilling down her cheeks.
"And so you've given me to the church," she whispered, feeling herself trembling even as she spoke those words.
Merric's hands went instinctively to her eyes and he wiped her tears away. "No. No, your brother brought me here to protect you. And I will. That much I know I can deliver, Attalia. You're safe here, safe now, with me," Mercuxio whispered, knowing the desperation was apparent in his words.
Attie's eyes were wild, angry and afraid.
"But how, Merric?" She was still trembling, still crying. "What makes here safer than anywhere else?"
"Because I'm here to make sure of it," Merric said steadily.
"And so will I," Leif added, stepping forward towards the pair. "Attie, what has happened... what you've done, no.. what they've made you do, is only just the beginning. They know you're out there, and now that they've sniffed out where you've been hiding, there's no place else I can think of safer. If you're already within the church..."A nd here he looked at Merric. "They'll fail to look under their noses. And if something does happen... even Ansgar himself will regret it."
Merric would excuse the blasphemy in this chapel of God. Under the circumstances, he was almost sure even the Abbot here would excuse it, if with pressure from Merric. He held Attie's hand fiercely and his expression was no less grave. "Attalia, what happened? What can you remember?"
Attalia trembled beneath his attention.
"It's all a confusing blur. I... I think I need to rest." And it was here, as Attie looked up tiredly into his gaze, Leif did too.
"Yes, perhaps, if you would not mind, we both ought to rest up here. Come morning, we'll both be more refreshed to give a better recount of the situation," her brother said.
Mercuxio loosened his grip on her hand, and let go of it after he pat it. "Yes, perhaps that would be for the best and you may stay here at the chapel. It is very small, but I think the infirmary here will be a suitable guest room for the moment. I can bring you more blankets to make you comfortable," he said and rose to get them. "Just a moment."
While Mercuxio left to fetch up blankets, Leif stayed behind with his sister, and long after the man had left, he bent down beside her, taking her hand.
"How are you feeling?"
Turning to him, Attie gave her brother a tired smile.
"Exhausted."
"You know, if you don't feel comfortable..."
"No," Attie said, halting her brother right there. Her green eyes met to his. "I know this is the best place I can be. And you've done so much for me already, to protect me." She took the hand that held hers now and squeezed it. "Trust him, as I have done. I would not have fallen in love with him other wise."
After a moment of silence, her brother gave a short nod before finding himself compelled to hold her tightly.
"Gods, Attie.... don't you worry. I'll make this all right." And upon hearing her soft sobs, he hugged her tighter, his eyes only raising when he heard someone enter the room.
It was a brother clad in plain brown robes. It was stretched wool, itchy to look at, but they didn't seem to bother the young man as he stepped into the infirmary. He peered at the pair with big brown eyes and held in his hands a plate of bread and cheese and some berries from the garden. "Father Merric said to offer you some nourishment. We do not have much, but I hope this will suffice," he said with a bow of his head, setting the plate on the beside table and leaving just as quietly as he came.
Leif gave a nod while Attie replied with a hoarse, "Thank you." But as she turned to her brother, she smiled at him and said, "You should eat some. I am not hungry."
Mercuxio returned with the fresh blankets and pillows and gestured to the food. "Both of you eat, please. It may not be much, but you've both traveled long and far, you'll need your strength." He set out the blankets on another cot, and took spares onto Attalia's bed, propping another pillow behind her.
The siblings ate what they could, and considering they were not offered much, when they both started eating, they were able to eat just about it all. Once that was settled, Leif got right down to business.
"I'll have to leave before the morning."
His sister perked up.
"So soon?"
"Yes," he replied with an agitated sigh. "If I'm gone for too long... some might... talk."
Mercuxio watched Leif specutively, eyeing his garb, his stance, his haggard look, and remembering the speed and desperation at which he brought Attalia here. Leif was a nobleman, as was his sister. He had duties to attend to, responsibilities, many of which would have mirrored Merric's own had he not joined the Church. And yet he was away. From what he could gauge, it must have been quite a distance, and in some place where he found his sister would be grave danger, so as to rescue her.
Merric found the pieces odd, but there was something off about Leif that Merric hadn't before thought to put his finger on. Until now. His haste...such haste in light of such recent events. But he said nothing and Mercuxio was thankful his expression remained placid and concerned for Attalia, as the moment truly required.
He knelt beside the woman and put a warm hand over hers. Then he looked up at Leif. "It's all right. You can leave her here if you like. I can take care of her," he said.
Leif spared a glance to Attie, then back to Mercuxio.
"Are you sure it's alright? That she'll be safe here? I know it's a big inconvenience... but-"
And he paused when he saw Attie smiling, despite all she had been through.
"Do not worry about me, Leif. I trust Merric, and you can to. And if I become an inconvenience, I'm sure I can take care of myself," she went on with a sigh and reached out to take Leif's hand.
"Thank you," she said, giving it a squeeze. "But you don't have to keep watch over me every day, every hour. I'll be fine. Those who'll look for me.... well, this place is clever. They'll never think to find me here."
"You're sister will be safe here," Merric said, eyes softening when he looked at her. Then he glanced to Leif. "I will keep her safe. This is a small abbey. In fact I'm surprised even you found it." He extended his hand to Leif to shake. "Don't worry. She's in good hands."
As much as he loathed to do so, after a moment of hesitation, he shook Mercuxio's hand firmly, his gaze never leaving his.
"That's good to hear. And you'd best be sure, I'm keeping you to your word."
Attie smiled at the pair of them before speaking up, "Might I have a look around the abbey? I have a feeling I'll be here for a while. And it would be nice to see this place... if I may."
But before Merric could respond, Leif cut in with an authoritative no. He released a frustrated breath. "Or what I mean to say is, you need to be careful."
And at this, Attie smiled.
"Of course I know that. But don't you think it would be suspicious if I were to simply remained hauled up here?"
Leif released another frustrated breath as he looked at the pair of them.
"Fine... but you should be resting," he finally said, turning away from the pair as he continued to stew in his own anxiety. There was so much to fear in this world of war....
When would this madness end?
And when did he learn to care so much about it?
"I can take you around. I do not mind. But only if you feel you're rested enough to make the journey," Merric said as he rubbed his hands together. "Are you all right?"
She gave Merric a nod.
"I feel well enough. And I can't stay in bed forever." Though she gave a pointed look in Leif's direction. "So long as my brother-guardian is okay with it."
Leif could have snorted, but instead, turned away with a sigh.
"You are free to do as you wish."
Attie smiled at her brother then looked up at Merric. "Shall we?"
Mercuxio watched her for a moment before peering up at Leif, watching his expression before taking her hand and helping her out of bed. He let her balance against him until she could stand on her own.
"There," he said softly and opened the door on the otherside of the infirmary room. "Let's go into the kitchens. Then there's the dining hall."
Attie smiled as she leaned into him, the as she began to walk, it felt good to be able to feel her legs again. She had been so exhausted lately, she was afraid she'd never be able to walk too good for the rest of her life.
As she held onto his arm as he lead the way, she studied the place with idle interest, but once she knew they were alone,s he paused him in his stride and peered up into his eyes.
"You have no idea how much this means to me. I owe you so much for your help."
Mercuxio smiled gently and patted her hand. "It's my pleasure," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Attalia. Really. It's the least I could do. I'm just glad you're safe."
She gave him a small smile before dropping her gaze.
"I'm glad to see you have been well. I know we haven't seen one another in ages..."
Or life times...
"But I often thought of you. Each night. And I prayed you lived a safe and honorable life."
Mercuxio frowned and sighed a bit. His eyes were brimming with tears that threatened to fall. He gripped her hands and squeezed them hard. A smile touched his lips.
"There's no telling what might happen after this. But I'm glad your brother brought you here. How did he know where to find me?"
She saw the tears forming in his eyes and her smile faded.
"Merric?"
And then his hands held hers and she looked at him, confused. But when he told her he was glad, and curious how they found him, she only smiled softly and gave his hand a squeeze back.
"You mentioned to me once you enjoyed this area of Connlaoth. And I recalled this place.... And I... I just guessed you might be here. It was a shot in the dark..."
Merric smiled and did something he never would have done with anyone else and his arms shot around her, holding her tight. The tears finally came out and soaked her shoulder as he buried his face against her.
"Merric?" the name came out on barely a breath. And by the way he held her, and by his mannerisms, she could tell he was crying. So she simply held him back, but no tears would fall from her own eyes. She had already cried enough for one life time as she held him tight.
It was silly, it was foolish. And he knew that if he were caught he'd be disciplined. Merric soon withdrew his embrace and got a hold of himself, wiping his eyes. He sighed and gave her a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sorry. I just haven't seen you in a long time. Let's continue with the tour shall we?"
He continued to show her the kitchens, which cooked simple meals and had some samples to offer. The brothers there didn't ask any questions and kept studiously to their duties and soon he took her into the gardens in the back. "It's quiet here, peaceful. Some people like to come here to 'find themselves' as they say. I just like the quiet."
Attie waited until they were alone, for her mind had been on anything else but their walk. She couldn't help but remember what he said, and then recall that night at the Grand Duke's Palace when they were both in the star gazer's tower together...
So after making sure they were alone, her hand hesitated before she moved it forward, slipping it into his and giving it a light squeeze.
"I've been thinking of you often," she whispered. "Ever since we met before."
Mercuxio's expression remained stern, peering down at her then down to her hand that grew so bold as to hold his. He hadn't welcomed it, nor had he rejected it. His hand remained loose within her grip and suddenly he felt afraid, fearful of his memories and all that they brought to him. His eyes softened up at her and he peered into her eyes.
"Oh?" he said, softly. "That was a long time ago."
"Yes.. but for a while," she went on softly. "Memories were all I had to hold onto. It was better to live in the past then the present."
"Perhaps my recollection isn't on par with yours, but I remember that meeting ending...badly. Why would you want to remember something like that?" he asked curiously.
"Perhaps I'm only holding onto the good in things," she told him with a sad smile. "It just made me think of simpler times. Better times. But yes, even the painful memories bubbled up. But even those were a nice change of pace, even if it was exchanging one pain for another. I.... I've had a lot of time to reflect about my life. And I don't want to live with regrets. At least not any new ones. Not if I can help it. Not that I now have my own choice....."
And here she paused, and hesitated over her decision.
"I didn't tell my brother this, but I've been thinking about leaving this country for good. Attalia Arrant is already dead. I could go anywhere, be anyone, do anything."
Mercuxio was taken aback, staring at her in silence. "And where will you go?" he asked in a low tone. Something cold in his stomach sank, but he didn't ask any more questions than necessary.
"Serendipity," she said. "I heard the weather's nicer there." And though she tried to smile about it, it was obviously forced. "And I should be less trouble there. My brother has done too much for me, risked too much. He doesn't deserve it. No one does. And I don't intend to remain a burden here for long. Just a little while..... Until I know its safe. Then ill go."
"Oh," Mercuxio said softly. He pulled his hand out of hers and looked at the ground, moving through the garden and kneeling beside some carrots that needed watering. The soil was so rich here, and there was almost nothing that wouldn't grow. Even the weeds enjoyed making their home here.
Merric pulled a carrot out and set it into the basket already laid out in the dirt. He cleaned the carefully and kept pulling more. "So when do you plan on leaving?" he asked idly, continuing his work. "How are you getting there?"
She kept silent for a while, admiring the flowers, even the ones growing on the weeds.
"I don't know,"s he said after a time. "I haven't thought out all of the details. But I figured..." and here she bit her lip and peered down at him. "That you might be able to help me. Just this one last time, when I am well enough to go on my own."
Mercuxio didn't know why but he felt his face grow hot and a sickness rise in his stomach at her words. He was angry suddenly, and glad he kept his back to her. Merric broke a carrot in his grip but put it into the basket anyway, trying to force himself to remain calm.
"So you'd leave," he said in a forced tone. "Just like that?"
It was only when he spoke did she sense the change in his demeanor. She stared at him for a moment before simply answering him, "Yes. If you've seen what I've seen, and have been through what I've been through... you'd know it's the only option I have left. I can't stay here."
Mercuxio turned to her, expression stern. "And just what have you been through?" he asked. "Tell me all about your suffering."
Attalia was surprised by this sudden change to his demeanor, and took a step back to observe him before furrowing her own brow.
"I've been experimented on, forced to have my magics 'corrupt' in an attempt to find a 'cure' for magic. And then their failed corruption has lead me to kill several people from where me and my brother just fled."
And she turned from him, trying to hide her tears.
"If you don't believe me, word will get around quickly enough- about the flood of Allar."
And here she paused before reminding him.
"That was me." And she was shaking. "And now I have to live with that on my conscience for the rest of my life. To know it was my fault so many suffered, so many were slain. I just want this to end. I don't want to be caught again, to be treated like an animal, to be raped of my humanity."
And she turned to him, tears now streaming down her face.
"And it's all thanks to the church I used to so fervently believe in. Now all I can think about is how Angsar can go to hell."
Mercuxio gave her a blank stare, but the anger never left his eyes. He remembered the burned chapel in the city, the false door that led to the back room. He saw the experimentation implements. He remembered the priests body and the examination of it that followed. He remembered Kentamin's disgust, and his own disgust in his apprentice at his failure in every endeavor.
Mercuxio sighed forcibly through his nostrils, stood and turned away from her with the basket of carrots under his arm, stepping back into the chapel.
Attalie stood there for a moment as she watched him leave in silence. He was angry? But why? Was it so upsetting she'd want to leave this place? Did he not understand the pain she had endured? She might as well have died when her funeral was made public and a grave placed in the cemetery. Now she shed tears for another reason, and lingered back to try to brush them away. No sense in having her brother see her with puffy eyes. He'd prod her to no end.
Though she could always lie and say it was the trauma-
because well...
it was.
After a moment to herself, she followed after him quietly. Perhaps it was best to say no more.
Mercuxio threw the carrots into the wash basin and scrubbed them by hand. He was angry, livid even. Why come to him? Why bother telling him if he was never going to see her again anyway? It was like picking at scab so that it would never heal properly. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her violently, anything to knock some sense into her. But what good would that do?
Merric turned to her at last and gave her a carrot. "You should give this to your brother. For the road."
Attie gave a silent nod and turned from Merric, taking the carrot with her as she gave it to her brother. Though her brother's leaving was a quiet affair, Attie waited nearly half an hour staring at the road once he was gone.
It would start to rain not long after he left, and the water that poured down at Highwater Chapel was gentle at first, but Mercuxio knew it would quickly transform into a torrent. He watched her for that time, standing outside, quietly stewing and unsure what to say. What could he say when the only woman he had ever cared for was leaving his life forever? What did she expect from him, when he devoted his entire life to that which she most loathed? How could she ask him for aid he could not freely give? He felt knotted inside, twisted up into himself that he could retch and nothing would rise up.
And yet he supposed the least he could to was give her cover from the rain. He had a poncho in hand, leather and waxed where it was knit together and moved toward her, placing it on her shoulders quietly and the hood over her head.
It was only after the gesture was made did she turn to him, lifting up the hood delicately on one finger as she peered up into his eyes.
"Thank you."
And she paused a moment to observe him.
"Shall we go in?" He wasn't wearing something to keep the rain waters off of him. "I'd hate it to be my fault you've gotten all wet."
"Please," Mercuxio said and gestured her to go ahead of him as he led them back into the chapel. By now it was evening prayers and the others were likely meditating in the worship hall. It would give them some quiet time and for that Merric was thankful.
He led her back to the kitchens and saw there was stew boiling in the hearth. "Would you like something to eat?" he offered. "Or maybe something to drink? Tea perhaps?"
"Tea would be lovely," she said, giving him a small smile.
"Very well," he said with a nod and served two small cups of steaming water. He placed peppermint leaves in each one and blessed the with a sign he drew over then and cleaned out the leaves. He put a dash of sugar in each and gently pushed it in front of her.
"I remember how you used to take it," he said and smiled.
Attie released a breath and smiled.
"Even after all this time? I'm impressed. I feel its been ages since we've shared tea." And she kept her smile small and averted her gaze down to her cup.
"So... If I might ask, what do you... You know, do all day here?"
Mercuxio ducked his head, his smile forced. "Well, It's a bit hard to share tea with someone you were sure was dead," he said and took a small sip of his own when it brewed. He peered up and around the kitchens and tilted his head.
"Likely about what you'd expect. We can for the chapel, maintain the land around it, welcome weary travelers if they come. We don't get many as you probably can see," he answered. "Or did you mean me personally? What I do here?"
"Yes," she said with a yawn. "You personally. What sort of job do you hold?"
Mercuxio felt a cold fist seep down into his gut even as he drank his tea. The warmth calmed that feeling for a few minutes, and he gave her a small smile. "My personal duties are the same as the others," he said. "I came here for a respite, and it is only proper that I contribute. I prefer to tend the garden, feel my fingers in the earth. I feel closer to the world, to Ansgar, if that's not a clichéd way of putting it."
Merric smiled sadly and took another sip. "I'm a priest, as you can plainly see. As I've told you before. There's not much glamor to it. It is a very basic life if anything. What else could you imagine me doing?"
It seemed she gave a sigh of relief to hear his duties were as one would suspect. Considering what she had been through on the darker side of the church.... she had very good reasons to be wary of those who bear it's crest. But Mercuxio was different, and well.... there had been a time when the two had been very close. And what faith she had in him was not lost, even if her faith was slipping away from her and her belief's in Angsar.
But she was a strong woman, through and through, and was not about to let those with a darker intent get the better of her. As far as she had seen it, she had won- she was free, and she'd remain so as long as she could. And she couldn't let herself hold onto ties here, even if she so desperately wanted to. Claiming those feelings... those memories...
They might be the antidote to making her break.
Life had just been too cruel.
Yes...
It would only make sense to start over again.
It was then Attalia blinked and came back to her senses, and found herself laughing through closed lips as she lowered her gaze.
"Forgive me... my mind wandered. But you?" She tilted her head and smirked. "I can only suspect you'd be doing the best at what ever Angsar called you for." And she stared at him curiously before lifting her cup of tea.
"What sort of rank do you hold?" she asked, taking a sip.
"I am a simple priest," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing more." His face was drawn suddenly. Even when he tried to cover his expression with his cup of tea, there was a sadness to his eyes and his shoulders drooped ever so slightly.
He forced a smile and tilted his head. "How soon were you planning on leaving?" he asked.
She caught his expression, and recalling his reaction from earlier, it was no surprise he might still be upset.
"I don't know," she replied quietly. "I suppose the sooner the better."
"I agree," he said curtly, but then his expression softened and he dropped his head.
Several long minutes passed and he found his tea no longer appetizing. "So why tell me then? Why not just leave?"
She looked into his eyes and said, "Because I trust you. And.. I'll need help getting out."
"Then why not ask your brother?" he asked, still not meeting her eyes. "Why me?"
"Ask Leif?" She could have laughed. "No.... If he knew my intentions, I dare say he'd lock me away." Shaking her head, she then added, "besides, he has enough on his plate." And she studied his face before asking, "Are you really that angry with me?"
"If your brother has any love for his sister, he'd be a fool not to help. He'd lock you away in this war-ridden nation; to what end?" Merric shook his head and peered up at her burning eyes.
"Anger?" He shook his head again. "Anger wouldn't solve anything. Anger wouldn't change your mind. Anger would only have you never looking back at me. I am...lost."
And all Attie could do was sigh before saying, "As am I."
"My confusion stems largely from the realization that could just leave...me, just like that," he murmured. "I would never see you again. You realize this I'm sure. At least you thought it through."
Looking at him, she informed him quietly, "Yes." And she sighed before adding, "And I can't ever see my family, or anyone else I love. But..." And here she felt her lips trembling, tears threatening as she dropped her gaze. "It's either say goodbye forever to live a life elsewhere... Or risk being found by them again. And if you knew what horrors I endured...." And she tried to blink her tears away, but they began to fall anyway. "They tried to use me, Merric... I've killed so many people because of them. I don't want to be their tool any longer."
"Then yo should have just left. Gathered your feet and set them to the ground," he said with fire. "It was better that I didn't know than to stand here while you tear my heart out. I cannot help you. What help could I give? I'm a priest."
At his fire, she found herself surprised, but that turned to anger as she glared at him.
"And you think I could have just run in my state? And it was my brother who brought me here and I.... Do you think you're the only one who would suffer?" And here, fresh tears filled her eyes. "Besides, what we had.... It was so long ago, Mercuxio..." And then more softly she added, "you're a priest now...." And it meant so many things would be between them now. His virtue, her scars....
"I already was gone from you once. And I'm sorry, for it wasn't my choice. Even now, I don't feel as if I have an option. But if I stay here, Id be sentencing myself to death."
Merric gripped his cup in powerful hands, hands too strong for a priest and he stared at his cold tea. "I could end up dead for helping you as well, Attalia. You...you couldn't understand," he murmured. He bit his lip, chewing on it hard until he could almost taste blood.
"Nobody knows about you. About us. If I gave up everything I had to help you..." He felt tears flow down his cheeks. "God knows I want to help you..."
She saw his expression, heard it in his voice as she touched his hand.
"Then do not worry yourself. For now, let's just take this one day at a time . I'm in no condition to go anywhere right now." And the thought made her sigh.
Merric couldn't let it go and he suddenly took his cup of tea and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a hundred pieces flying everywhere. He turned to suddenly and smashed his lips into hers for a long hot moment. The kiss was hungered and heated, melting with the memories of their years, until he had to catch his breath lest his heart burst.
Her breath was stolen away in a kiss that felt as though it lasted an eternity, or had been an eternity since she had felt such passion. Though before she could even think, a brother came into the room, worried over the noise.
"Father Merric!" And he stopped dead in his tracks having walked in on the kiss.
The voice had seemed little more than a distant echo when Merric's lips at last pulled away from hers and he blinked, coming back to reality and he turned to the brother. "Yes?" he said, his expression stern.
"What....what is going on?" he asked, peering between the pair and the shattered clay cup.
"Forgive me brother. I know what you saw must have been shocking to see. It was...a lapse in-in judgement. We are old friends. As all men, we suffer from vulnerabilities. I-I apologize, Brother Tomas. I hope you understand," Merric said, bowing his head, expression contrite.
"It won't happen again."
Tomas shifted his weight uneasily as he looked between the two of them.
"It's just been years since he's seen me, and well, before he was a priest..." she said, peering over at him. "We had kissed once or twice." And though the statement was to try to help lighten the mood and make it seem less severe, Tomas still turned to look uncertainly at Father Merric.
Mercuxio looked at Tomas. "It's all right Tomas. Really. You have my word. And I will clean up the mess." After a few moments of consideration, the brother nodded and bowed his head before passing through the door.
Merric grabbed the broom and started to sweep up the clay cup and gathered it into a small pile.
Attie was quiet a moment, even long after Tomas had left, but the second Merric was finished sweeping the mess, she found herself halting where she was ringing her hands.
"Merric, I..." but she wasn't quite sure what to say.
Merric swept up the remains of the clay cup and piled them together in a wastebin beside the door when he heard Attalia speak. "Yes?"
The second he turned, she sighed.
"I think we need to talk," and she paused, eyes going to the door. "Alone if we can." And she dropped her gaze. "But I'm not sure now's the best time."
Mercuxio considered it for a moment and gestured her to the door. There was no where they could be alone in the present building, but perhas they could talk outside. It rained still and Merric offered her a hooded cloak and put one over himself as he led them out the door.
There was an oak tree outside beside the stream that passed near the gardens and he stood beneath the thick leaves and branches above, shielding them from the rain.
Rain drowned out all the sounds in the world, drumming over her cloak and plopping through the oak branches. She was quiet for a long time before she finally.turned to Merric.
"Is my staying here a bad idea? Merric I... I don't want to inconvenience you. And I certainly don't want to complicate your life. You're a priest..." So whatever the kiss meant could never be. And she? She was dead.
Merric only began to realize how much those words stung him, and the plain meditation robes he wore felt like weighted chains around his neck. He wanted to tear them off, to burn them, if it meant he could kiss her again. But she was right...it couldn't be.
"I'm not staying here much longer. I plan to leave tomorrow, move north east towards Valenwhite," he said at last and gave a small smile. But his expression soon sobered. "Come with me."
"Merric, I... Would that be wise?" she asked, eyes seeking his.
"It wouldn't be wise to stay here too long. As you said, they will eventually find you. If we are on the move, it would be safer," he said. "But if you feel you are not well enough to travel..."
At this, she sighed and looked away, growing quiet as she stared at the rain.
Merric stepped in and touched her hand. "Despite all I risk and everything I have at stake," he said gently. "I will help you. I want to help you. After everything that we shared, what kind of man would I be if I didn't? Priest or not."
She lifted her eyes when he was through, studying his reflection as she found herself frowning.
"I should be well enough to travel... however..." And her frown deepened. "That town is so... North."
And very far away from where she wished to run away to. Serendipity was so many miles in the other direction.
"It isn't that far. But it's far enough to put distance between here and your pursuers," Mercuxio said. "I know it isn't where you want to be. But it could also throw them off the trail. I'll take you as far as I can."
She continued to frown as she studied his face.
"Life is not fair. I learned this long ago. But this... This isn't fair to us both and I'm sorry."
Merric's expression turned down, lost, vacant of hope and he dropped his hands, walking toward the tree and leaning against the trunk.
"So what is it that you're telling me?" he asked. "That you will not come with me?"
"No..." She said with a sad smile. "That I will come."
Merric turned suddenly, as if unsure he heard her words correctly. Then a smile gradually spread across his face and he sighed gently. "Good. I'm glad." He pat the old tree trunk and walked back to her. "We can leave tonight. The sooner the better. I do not belong to this rectory, so my absense will not matter. They already know I intend to depart soon."
"Yes... But you don't think they'll question my coming along?"
"They might. But I will simply say I am escorting you to some nunnery in Valenwhite. They won't think much of it. And if they do, we'll be long gone by then," he said.
"Nunnery?" she gave a hollow smile at such a thing as her eyes remained locked upon the rain soaked ground.
"It is a suitable excuse," Merric shrugged and laughed a little. "I know you probably don't really picture yourself in a nunnery. Honestly, neither do I. We won't go there though, I promise. I know even being here at a Church must be hard for you."
She gave a more genuine smile this time as she looked up at him.
"Yes.. but I dream of a day when it will all be over." And she found tears threatening within her eyes as she tried to blink them back to keep them away.
Merric reached for her hand and gripped it between his own. His hands were larger than hers, strong and callused in some places. They were rough to the touch and he ran his thumb along her palm, tracing the lines there, as if he could read the story of her life. And his face was drawn, solemn.
She watched him as he touched her before lifting her gaze to his eyes. And at that moment, a few tears escaped, sliding down her cheeks and hanging off her chin.
Mercuxio reached a hand out and wiped away the stray tear, holding it delicately along his finger. He cupped her cheek and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry for not being there for you all these years."
"Why are you apologizing?" she asked, a sting in her voice, though it was not directed at him. "We were destined for other things...."
Considering her parents refused to have her wed anyone else besides her intended. Not that it mattered now. She had become the property of the church, and thoroughly raped in mind and body. She was no longer the same woman from so long ago.
But how come his kisses ignited so much? And the memories still burned like a powerful flame?
"You could not have prevented.... them, from taking me."
"No...no," he said. "I know that." He sighed and tears rolled down his own cheeks. His hands held hers hard. "But because I never stopped loving you."
She looked at.him, really looked at him and saw the sincerity and.clarity in his tears. She had hoped, no, prayed he had moved on from her but part of her was overjoyed by such a revelation, but the other part of her was horrified.
And she had told herself all those years ago she'd let go.
That she would forget. But this moment reminded her of all they shared... Even though it felt like it was eons ago.
"And I tried so desperately to forget, Merric. But here we are. And it seems fate means to toy with us.". And it was her turn to cup his face, as she leaned forward and kissed him soft, a kiss that was sweet and as delicate as the rain.
"No. Never forget."
The whisper fluttered off and vanished between the soft patter of rain on the leaves above their heads and the pounding of his heart. Blood roared, burning and rushing through his ears when she kissed him and Mercuxio remembered.
Everything.
It was hard not to lose control, to kiss her proper as he dreamt of doing. Like he'd done before he joined the priesthood. Merric returned the kiss, pressing just so against her to feel the heat of her mouth, her tongue, remembering all the kisses of their youth. How could he forget? And when he pulled away, it was a dream from which he did not want to wake.
His eyes opened, but he couldn't say a word.
She felt dizzy, as if under a spell and desperately wanted to kiss him. But she hesitated, and during that time she mustered the strength to look away.
"We...." Her words were dry and scratchy. "We should go back inside." Before they both regretted it.
"Do you want to help me bring the rest of the harvest from the gardens?" he asked, breathless from it all. He smile, squeezing her hand.
She breathed through a smile.
"Harvesting... In the rain?"
Merric nodded. "The rain will make it that much easier," he said and pulled up the hood of his cloak and of hers.
Her smile grew. Then she nodded and followed him outside, keeping quiet, but close.
Merric led her back to the garden he tended to, traces of roughened soil lingering where the carrots had been torn from the earth. But this time, he was gentler, pulling up the potatoes and dusting them off before putting them away. Evening was drawing in and when the task was done, Mercuxio led her back to the infirmary room where she was staying and helped her into bed.
The harvesting was relatively peaceful, and quiet- and she liked it that way. It allowed her to remain 'in the moment'- or at least basking in the after glow there of. How long had it been since they had seen each other? Or even kissed? There was the masked ball... then that time at the cemetery...
But it seemed fate was meaning to draw them together, and for now- any thoughts to run away south were forgotten.
And she was too exhausted, so when she was escorted to her bed, she wished Merric a soft goodnight and nestled under the covers, soon falling asleep.
Mercuxio retired to his own quarters, thinking of Attalia's face, of her tears and her smile. It all seemed to blend into one as he laid down for the night, bare save for his small clothes and his hand reached up, touching his lips where she'd kissed him.
His heart raced and he reached into his clothes, feeling along himself as night faded into fantasy.
The entire place was awoken by a scream... Attie's scream, as nightmare's became her that night. The first to reach her was some church elder in his nightcap, holding a candle in the dim light of the dawn as he tried to find out what was wrong. But she continued and persisted in her shrieking, wanting the man, and all the others now rushing intot he room, to stay away from her. And when one dared to get near her, she grabbed onto whatever she could as a weapon and held it threatening before her, as she continued demanding, "Stay away! Don't touch me!"
Merric's eyes shot open abruptly when one of the brothers burst through his door. "Father Merric! Come quick!"
He shot out of bed and grabbed his coat, bounding toward Attalia's room. "Attalia!" he whispered as he stepped through the crowd. "Attie, it's me. Calm down, please."
It wasn't until she saw Merric that she paused, lips trembling before turning away, wanting desperately to sob into him but feeling too ashamed, too startled.. and her legs then gave way as she dropped back onto her bed and continued to sob.
"Please. Father Clyde, my friend here is unwell. I know you know I was going to leave this morning, but perhaps it would be better if I leave now. I can take Attalia with me and I will take her to the nunnery along the way. They will be able to care for her there," Merric said imploringly.
"What has happened to her?" he asked.
"She has...had a very hard life," Merric replied, somber, eyes dark. "Will you let her travel with me?"
"If...if it will help her. Go with my blessing, my son. You seem to know her best," Father Clyde said, patting Merric's shoulder.
The others departed from the room, leaving Mercuxio behind. He approached Attalia. "Attie," he said, sitting beside her. "Pack your things, we are leaving tonight."
After all was said and done, she still felt too shaken up. So when Merric, although gently, told her they were going to leave, she found herself still trembling, a few tears still escaping as she gave a nod.
"There is nothing to pack..."s he went on, voice nearly croaking. She had come here with urgency- and there was no time to think on conveniences.
Merric put an arm on her shoulders. "We can pack a few blankets," he said and hugged her to him. "I'll take you away from here." He stood up and helped her off the bed. His things were already packed and he put on his leather coat as they headed out back to the stables. His horse, black as night, waited for him and Merric threw and strapped the saddle onto his back.
He helped Attalia up into the saddle before vaulting up himself.
She said nothing, merely followed him, keeping close. And when he was on the horse with her, she wrapped her arms around him and leaned in close- feeling very much as grey as the day.
The dawn was barely rising when they bounded off at last, the horse tearing off into the early morning gloom. The mists that rested on the ground, were thick and largely concealed their presence. Merric had one hand on the reins and another on Attalia's hands around his waist, ensuring he was with her every step of the way.
It was like a dream- or rather a nightmare, with the thunder of the hooves beneath them. The mist even made the world surreal, and didn't even lift by the time they ought to pause for a break. And she hadn't even noticed the horse was slowing down until it stopped. It was only then did she move, feeling herself aching from the ride as she peered around at the world around them.
They were still in dense forests, with soft fog moving gently upon the ground. It made the place ethereal. And it was only then she found herself shivering, realizing it was dreadfully cold.
The horse chuffed softly, steam spewing out from it's notsrils. "Attalia? You're freezing," Merric said, turning in the saddle. "Here, take my cloak from my bag." It took some reaching, but he managed to pull a cloak from the saddle bag and handed it to her.
For a moment she simply stare, feeling too exhausted than anything, but eventually she managed to take the cloak with a nod.
"Thank you," she whispered, and moved to pull it around herself.
"Perhaps we should rest for a few hours? Are you tired?" he asked, looking behind him. The horse chuffed a little, sauntering toward a tree.
"I am exhausted," she snapped. "But is stopping wise?"
"Stopping now may not be the best idea. But if you are too tired to continue, we can make a small, secluded camp," Merric offered, gauging her with concern.
She gave a tired sigh and shake of her head.
"Let's just rest a moment. Maybe get something to drink? A light meal, then continue on." And it was only then she began to glance around them, as if expecting someone to be following as she shivered and huddled into the cloak.
Mercuxio slipped from the saddle waiting for her to come down and leaned against a tree for support. The mists concealed them as much as any pursuer, if there were any. Merric was always careful to keep alert, and cover his tracks. But it was a little more difficult when he had her traveling with him. Alone, he could move as he pleased, but with Attalia, he had to be even more careful.
Merric had some light rations and water that would suffice for this situation. "Here. Eat this and some bread. You'll feel better."
She released a sigh, her eyes returning to him as she nodded and looked down, taking the offerings and eating lightly. But after only a few bites, she seemed through, or at least she was halting for the moment before she glanced around again and adjusted the cloak.
"Are you sure they won't be suspicious of us leaving so quickly?"
"I can be certain that they will make sure we left safely. But of their suspicion I cannot be certain," he said, steam rising from the heat of his breath. "I think more of the suspicion may have come from the sudden arrival of you and your brother."
Mercuxio shook his head. "We still need to make it to the next town over before morning sets in. I should have left yesterday."
She was going to make a comment about them being more surprised by their kiss, but she held her tongue. Nodding in Agreement, she kept her eyes on the ground as her mind continued to whirl over the events of the past few days.
Mercuxio ate a bit himself, munching quietly and sipping water to sate a minor thrist. He handed some off to Attie and stayed close enough to share warmth. "What was that?" he asked finally. "In the night. When you were screaming."
She looked up at him curiously when he began to pose his question, but as soon as she realized what he was asking, she shifted uncomfortably as she dropped her gaze.
"I'd rather not talk about it."
Mercuxio's expression softened. "It's all right," he said and moved closer to her. His arms went around her never the less and he hugged her close.
Despite her exhaustion and annoyance, an annoyance that was not directed towards him, she found herself melting into him as she buried her face into his shoulder, taking in his warmth, and his scent. She hadn't smelled his musk like this in ages, and she felt herself ache for the times long past. Even back then, things were not so simple. It seemed she was destined for an uneasy life.
Mercuxio pulled her in close, his arms sealing her against him, roving up her back as he buried his face against her neck. "Attalia," he whispered. "You're shaking."
She continued to shake, and only after a moment, she found herself choking on her words.
"That's because it's cold." Though her voice eluded to something else.
"I'm here," Mercuxio found himself saying. "I'm here, Attalia. I'll keep you safe. I promise."
She still couldn't look at him as she grit her teeth, but continued to hold him.
"But for how long?" she found herself asking, through a low, cutting wind.
[This would make an awesome scene to draw. Just sayin.]
Mercuxio held his breath. "For as long as I live," he said. "I give you my word... Do you doubt me still?"
It was here she lifted her gaze to his, studying those blue eyes of his and knowing full well the truth.
"I do not doubt you... but the world."
Merric reached up and touched her face with a gloved hand and wiped what tears remained there. He said nothing and merely leaned forward and kissed her forehead gently.
She closed her eyes when he leaned in close, and in that moment, though brief, she stopped her shivering and felt a warmth course through her. And despite all the years and obstacles between them, despite the pain and suffering she had gone through-
she found herself whispering, "You know... I still love you."
Mercuxio stilled and smiled at Attalia, it was a small one and halfway hopeful. "I hoped you did..." And he kissed her on the cheek and then once more on the lips.
The kiss on the cheek made her tense- for his lips were warm, but her cheek was cold. But when his lips met to hers, she found herself releasing a held breath, softly moaning, nearly crying to be kissed that way.
But no one was around. So did it matter that this should never be?
He kissed her deeper, leaning in until he felt the heat of her face grow. His face hadn't been shaven in a few days and his skin scratched against her cheeks.
It was too easy to fall back into old habits, her lips were trembling as they replied, pressing back softly, but with need. And soon her lips were swollen from kiss after kiss, but she refused to stop, and only did so when she had to breath.
It was Merric who pulled away at last and took a breath, finding his hands gripping Attalia and his breath came in short sharp bursts.
"We should...keep moving," he said with a decisive nod. He pulled up the hood of the cloak behind her head and secured it.
As he fussed over her, her eyes lifted to his. She studied his face for a good long while before nodding.
Mercuxio gave her a gently smile. "We'll be warmer when we get to the next town. The weather won't get any warmer from here," He helped her onto the horse and mounted after, bounding off into the mists.
She wasn't sure how long it had even been since they reached the next town, but she had fallen asleep along the way. She hadn't meant to, and felt a bit embarrassed for it, as she realized Merric would have to not only direct the horse but keep herself from drifting off the saddle as she slept.
Stretching lightly, she peered over to the town coming into view. Though small, it was a welcoming sight. And the smell of burning wood helped awaken her stomach, which growled hungrily, and loud.
Merric slowed the horse to a gentle pace, riding along as the town came closer. It was a small farming settlement and a welcome sight at long last. He slowed down to a walk and when an inn came up along the side and he swooped down from the saddle.
He helped Attalia down and held her for a brief moment before stepping toward the inn door. "We'll both be grateful for a hot meal, come."
Nodding, she said nothing, remaining quiet and securing the hood of her cloak over her head. She glanced around, and though there was not a soul on the streets, that did not stop her from still looking over her shoulder.
The atmosphere of the inn was quiet and the inhabitants within were happy to keep to themselves and paid them no need when they came in. Hot stew was put in front of them when they were seated and Merric dropped a few extra coins for a room and housing for his horse.
"Smells good," he commented before looking at Attalia. "Is something wrong?"
Attie couldn't help but look around, but when he posed his question, she looked back to him, then lowered her gaze to the stew.
"Its nothing I..." and she moved uncomfortably. "Just... a habit..." she added, almost inaudibly.
He said nothing, knowing the feeling all too well of having to watch one's back constantly. Just because he was a Confessor did not make him untouchable. There were eyes and ears everywhere. So he said nothing and instead focused on his meal, eating in silence until his bowl was empty. "We should retire. It'd be nice to sleep in a real bed and not those hard things back at the Chapel. I don't think my back could take another night of it." He gave a small smile before standing. "Whenever you're ready."
She gave a nod and tried to smile, but she was too tired, and it vanished as quickly as it had came. She rose from the chair, her food, half eaten, and moved to follow after him, silent- and eyes to the floor.
He led her to the room and closed the door softly behind them. "Are you cold?" he asked, walking toward the fireplace. "I am. I can make a nice fire roaring in here in no time." He smiled again before striking the tinder and soon the kindling took flame.
She briefly nodded, and whispered her thanks, before moving over towards the hearth where she took a seat near it and shivered, nestling into her cloak. Her eyes remained on Merric, but she said nothing.. only watched.
"Attalia," Mercuxio murmured when he stood up after the fire began to burn. "Are you afraid?"
She continued to look at him, her expression unchanging.
"Yes."
But she gave him a tired smile.
"But I've been afraid for so long, right now.. I feel as if my whole body has been exhausted." She shook her head before lowering it, staring at her hands.
"I never thought this would happen... that I'd come to be... cursed with magic. Though it's strange... before all of this, you joining the church, and I,..... becoming... this, we..." and she gave a sad smile at the memory. "We had been something. I guess, even then, fate knew we weren't supposed to be."
"You believe in fate?" he asked, expression curious. "That God really meant for us to end up like this?"
At this, she couldn't help but laugh.
"Perhaps ten years ago. Now... I'm not so sure." And her expression, though she was smiling, turned sad as she looked at the ground.
"Now I just believe... nothing. For I am nothing, I have more or less been erased. And during my time of 'death', I caused destruction. And somehow, I'm rescued and brought to you."
And here she lifted her gaze.
"What would you call it?"
"A very strange course of events. Dangerous, definitely. But I think every man makes his own fate. I know it must sound strange coming from a man of the cloth. But it is what I've always believed. If not, I would have taken after my father as he intended. And if there is fate...then how can we blame ourselves for our actions? It leaves us unaccountable. That is not to say that your own actions brought you to where we are. But sometimes things aren't our fault."
He reached for her hands and clasped them together between his own. "Perhaps we were fated to part at the time. But we're here together now aren't we?"
"Yes... but I can't help but wonder... what does that mean?"
"What would YOU call it?" he asked, curious. "A second chance? A cruel joke? Perhaps we should ponder less on the meaning and more on the now. I care for you and I promised to see you through to the end. That's just what I intend to do."
She stared at him, her eyes sparkling with a curious stirring of emotions.
"So you will help me then? To leave... out of Connlaoth?"
Mercuxio lowered his gaze for a moment and then peered her in the eye. "As far as needs be to keep you out of harm's way."
After he spoke, she found herself releasing a breath.
"But.. what if it's farther than we expect?"
"You of all people should know I do not take my oaths lightly, Attie," he said and his eyes were sincere.
It was here she reached forward, her hand taking his as she gave it a light squeeze.
"And this is why I have always loved you." And she smiled, trying to keep back more tears. "Even... in death."
Mercuxio smiled and squeezed her hand back. "And I love you too. It's been too long since I could say those words. To you especially."
"Merric... I.." But she looked away, suddenly pulling her hand from his as she clenched her own together, holding them in her lap.
"I know.. you and I.. we... We've shared lots of things, our hearts, exclusively, but I... I can't help but feel guilty now. Though I.... I still feel that same ache in my heart for you.... I know I should not. Too many years have passed for us, we missed our chance and I..... I'd rather not have these feelings to cling onto. They're confusing, and I'm too tired to fight my own, let alone any efforts to love, or be loved, or even cared for by another. That... that's why I have to go." And she dropped her gaze, the guilt evident.
"I'm just... tired, Merric. And who knows how long this single moment will last."
At that Merric's jaw visibly clenched and his nostrils flared. He frowned deeply and soon nodded. "I understand." He chewed on his lips for a few seconds before standing and moving toward his pack, pulling out a map to chart their course.
It was a hard pill to swallow. But who was she fooling? Just because they've crossed paths again didn't mean their love was to be rekindled. This world was too chaotic for her. And she knew, even if she tried to stay here-
She'd die.
Silently, she watched him pull out the map, and stared at it while releasing a breath.
"So where are we now?"
"Fallmar," Merric said simply. "We made fair timing, but it wasn't far from the Chapel nevertheless. We can find our way quicker through the Hallowed Wood. I know a path there." He peered up at her and gestured toward the bed. "Best get an early night."
She gave a nod and moved towards the bed. She felt so tired, so exhausted to think on much else. But before she laid down she turned to Merric and told him softly, "Goodnight."
Merric slept beside her, thankful for a soft bed for once and when dawn arose, he was up and stretching, preparing for the long journey ahead.
Groggily, she arouse, not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed they had shared. It reminded her of those times past, where they'd share most intimate moments together. She could smell his scent all over the pillow, and just lay there, her long hair a mess about her and her eyes solely on him.
Mercuxio pushed himself up from the ground, finishing his stretches and he found himself gently smiling. "How are you feeling now?" he asked. "Hungry? Thirsty?"
"Perhaps a little thirsty, but I feel as if I could just stay in the this bed all day." And here, she smiled as she sighed. "I never thought I'd ever be so happy with just a simple bed."
But she had slept on worst things than what was offered to her at High Water.
Mercuxio crawled over to her and sat beside her on the bed. "There are so few pleasures in the world today...as it is I mean. I agree. This bed feels like heaven. As close to heaven as mere mortals can get I guess." He smiled again and laid beside her.
She wasn't expecting such a reaction after her comment, but smiled anyways as she moved over to give him more room.
"This reminds me of that time you first snuck into my room.."
But she left it at that. Recalling the past... she wasn't sure she kept wanting to follow that path.
Mercuxio furrowed his brows at her, confused. "I never snuck into your room.... If I did, I'm certain I would remember.
"So you're saying you've forgot?" she asked, peering up at him with a small, playful smile.
"No, I'm saying I never climbed through your window," he said with raised brow. "I have a pretty good recollection of our exploits, but that one does not ring a bell." He smirked a little. "So just how many boys did climb through your window before me? So many you lost count?"
"Merric!" she picked up a pillow and whacked him with it. "You would accuse a lady of such scandals?"
Merric deftly moved out of the way. "Hey! I'm a gentleman, I'd never do such a thing!"
She couldnt help but laugh.
"But you just did!"
Mercuxio held his belly as he laughed. "Well, is it true?"
To reply, she stuffed a pillow at his face.
"No!"
Mercuxio grabbed her side and pushed her off him. "How many? HOW MANY?" He howled with laughter.
Attie squeaked out a gasp.
"How dare you ask such things, Mercuxio Rastognlir! Don't make me hurt you!" But her threats were hard to come by without a laugh.
Merric laughed and pushed the pillow away. "I will never surrender!
"Of course you won't, you stubborn mule!" But she laughed and tried to use the other pillow now to hit his side.
Mercuxio growled a little as he rolled them both over suddenly and he pinned her beneath him, chuckling still.
She let out a yelp, but she too, was laughing.
"M-Merric, p-please!" she said through laughs. "I'm a lady! What on earth do you think you're doing?"
Mercuxio smirked at her. "A lady who invites more boys into her room than fingers on one hand," he said.
She gasped.
"Merric!" And struggled beneath him, trying not to laugh. "Come on! Get off! It's not my fault you can't remember!"
Mercuxio's smile faded and he peered down at her, face lingering close to hers. "Of course I remember all the times we spent together. Windows notwithstanding."
She was smiling still, chest rising and falling as she breathed heavier. But then she stilled studying his face as her own expression began to soften, too.
"Is there anyway to forget it though?" she asked him softly, sincerely. "Memories... it seems it's all we have. And that time... it was the only good part of my life. It.... it's like the moment I allowed fate through my parents to win, I cursed myself." ANd as she studied his face, she then whispered, "I'm sorry."
And she did all in her power not to cry.
Mercuxio said nothing and simply leaned his head down and kissed her.
At his kiss, she made a soft noise, whispering his name, but it sounded muddled as she found herself only able to kiss him back. His lips were so soft, his smell, something she craved, and soon she found her hands wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close.
"Shh. Don't say anything," he whispered back, kissing with growing fervor, leaning against her and resting his body down onto her.
She willfully obeyed, hands smoothing up and down his back as her own kisses matched his. It had been too long since she had allowed herself any pleasures from a man, be it touch or kiss, or anything else. ANd it was this heat, this thrill that coursed through her blood that helped her become swept away from anything else but him.
Mercuxio reached down and felt for the cloth of her dress, slowly pulling it up, letting his fingertips dance along her thighs. Their kisses heated and he pulled on her lips, hungry for more.
His touch was intoxicating, coaxing legs open, and her mouth, as her lips sealed to his after a breath, and her tongue sought for his, to taste him, to feel his warmth, as her own hands smoothed down his back, and them slipped to the front of his clothing, dancing across his buttons and crest.
Mercuxio groaned against her touch, his hands moving to aid her in the removal of the remainder of his clothing. Off his shoulders slipped his tunic and off went the pendants around his neck. He briefly held her hand to his heart, to feel it beating as fast as it was, but soon focused on the hunger of her kisses.
She felt a shivering thrill course through her. To feel his heart beat, and his warmth, it was unbearable. Moaning, she claimed his lips again and took his hand to do the same, though not just to feel her heart beat, but to cup and fondle and let his hands taste her breast.
Merric's hands gripped her breast, squeezing it in a firm but gently grip. He pulled at her blouse, wanting to get at the flesh underneath and pulled it a little too roughly.
She didn't care if he was rough or not, and moaned lightly through their heated kisses, her own hands leaving him to help him with his endeavor, and those hands did not return until her blouse was thrown to the ground.
Mercuxio growled, biting and nipping and pulling at her lips until her breasts were freed. His hands gripped them, massaged them before being joined by his mouth. He'd missed her flesh and kissed her chest with fervent need, leaving a trail of wet kisses until all that was left in their wake was heated fire.
She released a soft gasp of pleasure when her breasts were claimed by his lips, and she blindly groped at his clothing again, hoping to remove what she could. Though it had been years since he had seen her body, as she was older, her body matured beautifully- except the new scars in place from her encounters with the church.
He tasted of her flesh, pressed onward by the hardness of their tips and the groping of her hands. He had not worn boots to bed and his free hand grasped her right and trained it down toward his belt, deftly removing it and slipping them both within.
She wasn't sure how it happened, the pair, both suddenly without much clothing. But it had been too long, and she ached for him so, and naturally her hands found his eager member and wrapped around it, causing her to moan as lips met to the flesh of his neck. It was good to feel that want, that desire within her hands, a desire that only a man can possess and to see that, even after all of these years, after his vows....
He still wanted to take her.
Mercuxio held his breath, feeling her hands, lost in the stillness of time all around them. Suddenly he felt it, that surge and he thrust his hips against hers, uniting with her once again.
Her cries came from deep in her throat, deep in her heart, to feel them become one. It had been far too long since this had happened that her mind numbed over, her body reacting to it's much desired need, and she was soon panting and sweating and holding his body tight.
She was his and he was hers for the moment. The soft light of morning came in in tendrils, swimming across their forms as Mercuxio moved within her. His thrusted slowly at first, feeling within her, holding the suppleness of her body close to his, his breath hitching to every motion. It'd been so long since he'd had a woman. And even longer since he had Attalia.
They were making love, not just mating, as she felt the steady rhythm of his body move within her. The sensations were almost too much to bear, and she delighted in each, slow thrust moving within. She was soaking wet, her body rising with urgency and need, but she clung to him, and reveled in the moment where all that existed in this world were she and him.
Perhaps she was right. What use was there in lingering in what had been? Their memories would last as long as they both lived. But they were merely memories, existing only in their minds. If they clung so to the past...how could they ever learn to live on?
Merric made love to her as if this was a promise to another future, even if it would never be. To live for now and there was no place he'd rather be. He moaned against her ear, turning his hips just right in new exploratory angles, moving a little faster as his heart raced in his ears. "Attalia!"
The sex they had before was always good, but this...
This was something else entirely. She could feel more than just his heart and need through his strokes. She could feel that promise, and she clung to it as desperately and wantingly as she could. And it was a beautiful moment, for two people to become one.
Mercuxio moved heavily within her, with heart, with the fire that burned in his belly. He gripped her hips, sealing hers to his as they moved in unison. "Maybe....fate tore us apart..." he panted against her. "But to hell with fate.... "
She whimpered, kissing him deeply upon the lips as she held him close.
"This is our fate," she told him, eyes closed as she pressed her forehead to his, her body heat intense as her sex gripped his. "And I won't believe anything else."
She had been denied him before, by herself and her responsibilities. But she was dead now, was she not? And what crimes could a ghost commit?
Perhaps she was a fool, but she needed this, wanted this, and continued to moan with each movement he made within.
Merric hoisted her hips up higher, stroking her deeper, thrusting harder against the grip of her walls, driven by that promise. He panted rythmically to every thrust. "If it's too much, tell me to stop. Tell me...what you want."
With her hips up high, she hugged her legs around his waist, sealing them together as he moved.
"What I want?" she could have laughed, those green eyes shining. "I just want you. Angsar's name, Merric, I just want you." And she wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself up and moved in tune with him, feeling his front rub against hers as it stimulated not only her pleasure zones deep within, but her clit as well, for his body was grinding against it, and the pleasure was immeasurable.
Mercuxio moved quickly, roiling in waves of pleasure, lost in the shared fire that burned so hotly between them. He shuddered to think he still pleased her even after all these years. They were one, she and him, and at last he felt his body burst at the thought.
For the moment, Attie remained entwined with him, nestled in close enough to feel the sweat on his body and hear the racing beat of his heart. She had never dreamed they'd ever unite in this way again, but here they were. And for the moment, she just reveled in it.
"Attalia," he said, his voice a soft breath, letting his breath catch up to him. He held himself above her, staring at her face, watching her eyes and expression. There was so much uncertainty in his own. In a way, part of him was shamed at his frailty, that he could fall into such weakness.
But he loved her... Isn't that what mattered most? Then what of his oaths, his vows, what'd he'd dedicated his life to? Merric didn't know which way was up or down. For now, he tried to push it all away. There'd be time to tell her the truth, the whole truth and so he kissed her once more, basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
Attie remained quiet, watching him as he watched her. And when he kissed her, she kissed him back, and swept a hand through his damp hair.
"That look... what's troubling you?" she asked him softly, kissing at the corner of his lips.
Merric's breath hitched as she kissed him. He leaned on his side. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just thinking about the journey ahead. We've a long way to go is all." And hopefully she'd ask nothing further than that.
She studied his face. Even after all of these years- she knew him better than that.
"What's wrong? Really?" And she gave him a reassuring smile. "You can trust me. And don't try to hide it. I know that face. I know all too well what it means."
But as she continued to study his face, she realized...
"Are you still upset about my plans to leave Connlaoth?"
Merric blinked at her, hating himself that his expression could be so easily read. He sighed, though it was not because that matter lay so heavily on his mind. "Yes," he answered, lying so easily. "When you're gone...what will you do? Where will you go?"
At that, she gave him a crooked smile.
"Miss you. Wishing you'd be with me. But I'll find a way. I'm not completely ignorant, Merric. I've been on my own for a while and... I'm pretty sure whatever awaits me outside of Connlaoth can not compare to what I've been through."
"That may be. I guess, a part of me still thinks you're the young thing that caught my eye. But we're older now. I know better than to linger on those old presumptions," Mercuxio said, bowing his head and offering a forced smile. He moved from the bed, standing and looking out the window.
Attie just laid there, admiring his form as he looked out the window.
"You've certainly gotten more handsome. Though I think I liked your hair a bit longer," she told him with a smirk as she stretched out on the bed.
Merric made a face, turning to look at her. "My hair?"
Her smile grew at his expression.
"Yeah... when I could really dig my fingers into it," she teased.
Mercuxio pushed his hair out of his face. "It isn't so short is it?" he asked. His voice was soft, boylike and curious.
Attie just smile and continued to lay there, cheek against the pillow.
"No.... but does it matter?" She sucked in her lower lip, giving him a smile as she did so as her toes curled into the blankets. "You look handsome, anyway."
He felt himself blushing and he rubbed his face to serve as a distraction but it didn't help. "To you still?" He shook his head. "Life has not been so easy on me. I'm sure you can see it all in the lines in my face."
At that, she smiled warmly.
"And I'm sure you can see mine."
"And more," Merric replied gently. "I know you're eager to leave. I wish I could just run away like that. You make it look so easy."
"Easy?" She laughed at the idea, but she could have cried. "The easy way would just be death. There is no easy path for me. My life is over."
"I think it was over the day they took you away," Merric said. He frowned and moved over to her, reaching for her hand. "But I know you... You're more resilient than that. You'll live again."
At that, she sighed and gave him a sad smile.
"You know, people say things like that when they're never going to see them again."
"Well, you're leaving. You've cut your teeth on it," he murmured, smiling a little and he squeezed her hand. "I have faith in you."
She smiled back at him, though it was still a sad one.
"I know." She squeezed his hand back. "But at least we have these moments we can still share."
"Sooner or later we'll have to come to terms with never seeing each other again. Whether it's fate, or merely diverging paths, it's in these moments we have to learn to cherish. And in them, live," Mercuxio said. "Look at me, spewing Church rhetoric even out of my vestments."
She chuckled and moved to be near him, wrapping her arms around him before kissing his shoulder, then neck.
"I.... am also sorry, for that. You're a man of the church..... Will you get in trouble for this?"
Mercuxio stared off against the wall, his body visibly shivering from her kisses. It'd been too long – even after their lovemaking – that he'd been with anyone and it was little more than a natural response to such affection.
"Only if they find out. We're supposed to be pinnacles of purity, shining examples of what Ansgar expects of us. But I think people forget priests are men too. I...I could be more than punished for something like this," Merric replied, his voice growing soft.
At his reply, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her cheek against his shoulder.
"Well, lucky for you, you're bedding a dead girl," she told him softly- though it was a jest, it seemed all too real, and also surreal. She closed her eyes as she held him.
"Gods.. if only things had been different," she whispered.
"What's the use in clinging to the past?" Merric murmured. "Let's cherish this moment. I know I will." He actually smiled now, pushing her hair from her face and admiring how the daylight looked in her eyes.
At that, her expression softened.
"I suppose you're right. Who knows when the next time might be that we'll have moments like this in our lives."
Merric noticed that she didn't say whether those moments would be spend together and he supposed he knew of it as much as she did. She was leaving and he was to stay here. It was the way of things. But he always wondered if how things were couldn't be any different. Examining his own life, he'd been born a duke's son, but he chose the Chuch over a noble's life. He'd been lucky, not to have been cast out, lost his claim to his House if only because whatever fragile bond love created, it stayed true. Somehow, it did.
Mercuxio looked at Attalia and wondered at the same, if love would be enough to keep them together, even if fate would spirit her away. He felt the heat of sorrow burning in his eyes and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. Were the years he'd spent apart from her worth it? He was a part of the very structure that destroyed her life, that tortured her. Would it be enough to heal the pain of guilt, that though he might not have been the direct cause of her suffering, but he may as well have been an accesory to it? Merric leaned in to kiss her, hard and roughly, passionately. But not out of love, but of fear. The fear that this really was the end.
She felt the heat, she felt the need from his kiss and when she pulled away, she cupped his cheek and felt the tear.
"Merric?" she whispered, opening hers eyes to look at him. "You're crying..."
Mercuxio blinked at her, shaking his head. "No, I'm not," he said. "I'm fine."
She gave a breathy laugh.
"Then who's tears are on my hand?"
It was too easy to become overwhelmed. But Mercuxio steeled himself. He couldn't let her see him like this. He wouldn't. It was weakness. The tears flowed anyway. And he covered his face in his hands trying to sob quietly.
A worried frown was set across her lips, and she did the only thing she could. She held him, and held him tight, burying her face into his shoulder and just listened to him as the sobs crept through his hands.
"I'm sorry, Merric," she whispered. "I never thought our lives would come to this."
Mercuxio couldn't find the words to say what he so desperately wanted to, the only thing that came through were the chokings of his sobs. He felt as if his throat closed up on him, and there was nothing he could do. A part of him wanted to hold onto Attalia, to hold her close that she might somehow understand the pain that festered inside him, and another wanted to push her away, to leave her behind as they would inevitably end. But neither feeling won over completely.
Only the tears continued.
As he cried, she continued to hold him, to comfort him how she could. But she was well aware this wouldnt be easy, but she had.no idea it would be like breaking his heart again.
He had to get a hold of himself, had to fight somehow against the strain of keeping this inside. If he told her what he was, the truth of it all, it would destroy her. Perhaps it was better than she never know.
Mercuxio rubbed his face, wiping his tears away and sniffing through a stuffy nose. "I am sorry," he breathed. "You shouldn't see me like this."
"It's alright,"s he assured him. "Things are okay now."
Well, as okay as they could be...
And even she knew not how long that would last, but studying his features she couldn't help but wonder....
Was all of this sobbing really just for her? Or was there something else behind those tears?
Mercuxio's face remained haggard despite his change in demeanor. Tears couldn't save him, not after all he's done, and all he would yet do. He looked at Attalia and tried to focus on the here and now. It was better that she just not know everything about him. If she turned away from him now, if he truly had nothing left...
He didn't want to think about that right now. Mercuxio just took her face in his hands and he brushed her hair from her eyes. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. "I love you," he murmured, and pressed his forehead against hers. "I will keep you safe. That I promise. You have my word."
Tears bubbled within her eyes at that confession as she looked at him.
"How can you still love me?" She whispered. For it was hard to believe, or rather, she had always hoped he moved on from her and well.... Secretly, she also wished he had not.
"Because," he said, laughing a little, as if to wonder how she could even question it. "Because I guess even after I left everything else in my life behind, you were the one thing that grounded me. You were the best thing of my past. I guess I..just have a hard time letting to. And the truth is, I don't really want to."
Attie studied his face for a good, long time.
"Then come with me. We can start over again. We can get away from this war."
When she said that, his face turned downcast and the guilt came back. As much as he loved her...more than his own life...he had made oaths, promises and vows to keep. "I...I couldn't Attalia. God knows I want to. But I can't just....up and leave."
"Then forget me. Let me go without these tears, Merric. Life...just, doesn't want us to be together. "
And she too, wished to move on. She had to. Or this time, she'd die for real.
Mercuxio felt his face burn with frustration and conflict. "Just because you are leaving doesn't mean we can't remain in contact...I-I could write you...I...I could come to see you when this is all over."
She just gave him a sad smile and shook her head.
"No... Once I leave, you can not write to me. Neither you, my brother, no one." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. She couldn't risk keeping any ties.... Lest the church finds out. And what would happen to Merric? She couldn't bear the thought.
He knew he was being foolish. Clinging to the last strand of his youth, to the last anchor that kept him whole. He nodded to her in understanding, biting his lip. "I know," he said.
He took her hands in his. "Then before you go, there are some things you need to know about me. You don't need to know them now. But in due time, I will tell you."
She gave a nod, squeezing his hand.
"Thank you."
Mercuxio patted her hand. "Come on. Let's get dressed. We've got to resupply in the village and get moving." He smiled and moved for his clothes.
Nodding silently, she obeyed, picking up her discarded clothing and getting dressed. Once her boots were tied, she set about brushing her hair in long, silent strokes as she looked at herself in the mirror.
It didn't take long for him to be ready and once she was too, they had breakfast and moved out into town. Mercuxio looked around, at the quaint idyllic life of this farming settlement. "I wonder if they realize how lucky they are so far. The one place yet untouched by the war. I doubt it will last long," he commented.
Attie's eyes lingered over the virgin land, eyes taking in every inch for what it was worth. And she was too afraid to turn away from it, lest it become true, that the taint of war will come to wreck such peace.
Mercuxio led them along through the various stalls, collecting wares that would last for long travel when at last they returned to his horse and he smiled at Attalia.
"You ready to go?" he asked.
Attie's eyes scouted the area, taking in every detail she could and keeping her face as hidden as possible. She always felt as if she had eyes watching her, eyes on her back, and never once left Merric's side. Most presumed they were newly weds- that was, until, some realized the mark of the church. But no one said anything about it, and when Merric asked if she was ready to go, she nodded in silence, too afraid to speak lest somehow, someone recall her voice from all of her screaming and begging in the bowels of the church.
Mercuxio paid no need to the other eyes of the villagers that may have landed on them. He mounted the horse and pulled Attalia up behind him, and before the dawn took hold, they were off, fading dots along the horizon.
They had traveled for a long while in silence, Attie's eyes staring off into the great distance, her mind on great things.
"How long shall we travel?" She asked quietly.
"As long as we can. Better to get as much distance in one run through don't you think?' Mercuxio replied. Though he slowed his horse down to a walk, as they moved over a bridge that crossed over a rushing stream. "But, we can take a break, if you'd like."
She shook her head.
"No... but maybe soon. But gaining ground is more important." And the faster they got to where they were going, the closer she'd be to being gone of this country for good.
Mercuxio nodded to her and kept a gentle but steady pace on the horse beneath him. The steed was strong and noble and knew his rider better than just about anyone, and he wouldn't let him down. The road thankfully wasn't too arduous, and as they passed the stream and approached the bend, there was a man standing off to the side of the road, not too far off from them.
Merric slowed the horse to a walk, as they approached and his grip on the reins tightened. The man was middle-aged and sitting beside a fallen log that had been cleared from the road's path and he looked terribly exhausted.
"Oh! OH!" the man said happily as he peered up at the pair. "I have not seen travelers down this road in many an hour! Would you please help me? I am tired, and hurt. Waylaid by bandits just a few miles up the road. I am surprised I made it this far."
Attie looked to Merric and whispered, "We should help him."
For despite her desire to move as far away from this place as possible, she still could not stand to see other's suffer. The war has done that enough to these people, to her...
And this man- to think! Bandits were taking advantage of them.
"We should move on," Merric replied to her, approaching the man slowly with the intent on passing him up.
"Please!" he called out, desperately. The man raised a hand to stop him, but moving proved too much and he clutched his side in pain. "Please. I haven't seen another soul in so long. Please, have mercy."
Mercuxio looked down on the poor man as they were beside him, his eyes hard, cold, saying nothing.
Seeing how Merric wasn't going to stop,s he gave a shake of his shoulder.
"Merric?" Maybe he hadn't heard her, or the man? But when she got a look at his face, her veins turned to ice.
When he looked at Attalia he felt a pang in his gut and stopped the horse, getting off the beast and walking toward the man on the road. "There's a town not far back down the road," he said, pointing back the way they came.
"N-no," he replied and tried to stand. He stumbled into Mercuxio and the man reached down and pulled him to his feet. "I just need to get to my cart. I need my cart and I can find my way. But it's back up the road where I came from. If you could just take me there I will gladly pay you. Thank you, Ansgar be praised."
"You want to go back?" Merric asked, skeptical. The man was clearly out of his element. "Perhaps you need some food, some water?"
Attie looked to Merric before looking further up the road.
"Perhaps we could check to see the status of his cart before assisting him to the town?"
If only for Attalia, Mercuxio nodded to the stranger before producing water from his saddlebags. The man drank heartily and thanked him before pointing back down the road. "It's just up this way. Not that far. I can show you."
The man started down that way, limping and Merric led the horse by the reins, following on foot. But something about the man seemed off. He was certainly favoring the wrong side of his body than he was before.
As they continued towards the path, Attalia frowned. She could see no signs of his cart.
"You must've traveled far."
The poor man. She understood that torment well.
"I was trying to get away from all this dreadful fighting. There was a skirmish just a few miles west of here and the dead were all piled up. I stacked my cart and fled the first chance the smoke cleared. Stupid mages and their stupid fireballs," the man said, panting exhaustedly.
"There were mages this way?" Merric said, somewhat alarmed at the claim. The last thing they needed was to walk right into a warzone.
"Were. That was a few days ago. I imagine they moved on by now," he said. "But the bandits. With the soldiers gone off to fight the bloody rebels, there's no one left to watch the roads. They're much more brazen. I'm sure even a few deserters fell in with 'em."
And still there was no sign of that cart.
"How far did you say you were waylaid?" Merric asked, and felt his hand favor the knife hidden behind his belt.
Even Attalia was losing patience, or just growing too antsy at the sign of no cart. But then as they crested a hill, she finally saw it.
"Oh! It's there! Over there!" she shouted, holding onto her skirts and pointing over at it.
[I'm assuming Attalia is still on the horse. xD]
Mercuxio was relieved when at last the cart came into view, the man leading the way. But suddenly he ran off toward the hill, laughing like a child playing a mean prank on a foolish friend. But the men that appeared after weren't friends. They were savaged, dressed in rags, torn and mish-mashed armors, bearing the old emblems of their liege lords, and Merric felt his stomach fall at how carelessly they walked into a trap.
"Have fun!" cried the man as he disappeared between them.
"Fresh meat? Oh definitely," One man agreed, clearly the leader of this contingent.
And before Mercuxio could pull the blade out from the back of his belt, he felt as if thunder cracked against his skull. It was in fact just a musket butt and Mercuxio fell to the ground, unconscious as the other men pulled Attalia from the horse. The animal screamed and bucked, but they managed to subdue it and dragged all three of them off into the woods.
Attalia hadnt even the chance to scream as she was pulled from the horse and fought the tangle of men's arms. But her efforts were futile, and the second she saw Merric on the ground, possibly dead.. only then did she scream. And a moment later the men silenced her.
"Wakey wakey!" hissed a squealy voice that was suddenly followed by a splash. Water came hurling at Merric's face and he gasped suddenly.
He was on the floor of a makeshift cell, Attalia in the cell beside him. And his head was killing him.
"The boss'll be glad you're awake now," the hissing voice said. "Ye've got a fancy piece of meat with ya too. Nice tits. The both of yous." He laughed and threw another bucket of icy water on Attalia.
With a gasp, Attalia awoke, the frigid water gushing over her body and seeping in quickly to her dress, making it cling to her like a second skin. And though the chill was what violently woke her, she cringed in a new kind o fpain, as just about every inch of her body felt sore.
Blinking,s he looked around, but when she went to move, she made a noise, a soft gasp and grunt as she realized her wrists were shackled together.
Mercuxio sat up and rubbed his head where the musket had cracked his skull and he watched the slug of a man depart with his water buckets. At least he was alive, even if he wished he was better off dead.
Panic set in, her body writhing, and gulps of whimpers escaped from her lips. Tears soon followed as her desire to fight her chains became more frantic as the shackles pounded like hammers.
Merric continued to hold his head in the only manner in which he could cope. "Attalia. Settle down," he said, getting his bearings. "Don't panic. It'll only make it worse." He was lucky all he had was a headache, at least insofar as he knew and his skull at least remained uncracked.
At his voice, she turned to him, tears streaming down her face as she continued to move, abhorring every aspect of her restraints.
"G-Gods... Merric.. Please.. please don't let them take me. By Angsar's name I'd rather die than go through Hell again."
"Attalia. Please calm down. They won't hurt you, I promise. Struggling will only make it worse," Merric said as he crawled over to the bars that separated them. He reached forward and grabbed her hand, shoulder straining just a little, but he managed to grab her pinky. "Don't worry. We'll have to figure out where we are first, all right, and just what is going on."
Attie only looked at him with wide eyes. Tears still streamed down her face, and he'd be able to feel her trembling. Despite Merric trying to comfort her, she was too afraid to believe it. She was doomed. And he might join her.
Merric saw her gaze and stared at her for a moment. He approached the bars and reached his hand out to her, barely able to make contact with her let. "I promise you we will not die here. Listen to me, Attie. I keep my oaths, this I swear. Look at me, if you believe me, nod."
Though she nodded, the fear in her eyes spoke other wise.
"It's not death I fear.." she told him, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "It's the things worse than death... I... I don't wish to ever go through that again."
"And you won't. Attalia, I would die before I would ever let you suffer again. They might cage you, but I will crush them," he said with resoluteness burning in his eyes.
And Attie could not stop herself from asking through a shaking, terrified voice, "And if they cage you?"
"They will try," Merric said and moved from her side of the bars in his cell. He yanked on the locked door and cried out. "Hey! What's going on here!?"
"You would shut your mouth if you knew what was good for you, swine," a man's voice boomed as he came down the stairs, dressed in the ragged uniform of a captain in the Grand Duke's army.
"What?"
"So you're not only deaf, you're stupid. How enlightening," he said with a smug grin. "I am Captain Willian Corta. I'm in charge around here."
Fear gripped her and sent icy chills through her veins. She tried to peer over to see what was happening, but she was still strapped down, and her view was also jarred by her dark hair.
"A captain of what?" he asked.
"This company! We follow no crown or general. We're sick of this stupid war. So we made a haven of our own. Not that it makes a difference to any of you. You won't live long enough to tell anyone."
"You're deserters."
"We're patriots! We've served our country. Even the mages on the other side bled for what they believed in. We don't question where you come from, we take the wounded and the weary. We stand together. It's just unfortunate that the pair of you were in the wrong place in the wrong time."
"So.. so what then?" Attalia's voice cracked out, laced with trembles and fear and hysteria. "You are to just capture us.. to kill us then?"
Corta turned to Attalia, clearly liking what he saw. He crossed his arms over a massive chest and grinned. "Kill you? Not at first," he said, then looked across to her cell neighbor. "First we see'll see if you're even worth keeping alive. Sounds like a plan to me."
"I am a priest!" Mercuxio said, pressing hard against the bars as if he might somehow break through them. "You would dare attack a holy member of the Church?"
"A priest?" Corta's scoff might as well have been a slap to the face. Thankfully, the Captain at least had the decency to spit on the ground instead of in his face. "A frumpy priest? And you think that'll save you? And what has faith done to help us all who've trudged through the fighting? And what of your companion here? What do you expect you're little exclamation will save her neck?"
"It extends to all who are under my care. A fact you would know if you ever read The Testimonies," he said. "That's exactly what I mean, Captain."
Attie saw the way he looked at her, as other wretched men had done before. But it was not that sort of cruelty she feared, and to realize he was someone against the war...
She had to wonder...
"Please.. we are not soldiers, nor supports of the war."
ANd her tears wavered with eyes.
"Water... please, can I have some water?"
Corta sneered at her request and looked over at the pitcher of water on the table, then back to her.
"Water? I'm not here to oblige either of you! Let your tongue stay dry for all I care."
But that was all Attalia needed, as her eyes followed his gaze to the picture of water, and she furrowed her brows, contemplating, focusing on just that, before the waters began to rise out from the pitcher and towards the man. And he was none the wiser, glaring down at Merric as he kicked his sell.
"And being a priest- I ought to gut you for it! Angsar can't save you now!"
And that's when the water suddenly was dropped on his face.
"Wuh!" Before the waters temporarily drowned the man. They sunk down into his nostrils and he sputtered harshly and that was all the time Merric needed to shoot forth. He thrust his arms out of the bars before grabbing into Corta's collar agave was splatteredmashing his face hard against the bars. He did so repeatedly with no ounce of mercy. Corta's face free quickly bloodied until Mercuxio was satisfied that enough damage has been done.
The priest grabbed into the keys from his belt and immediately tried to unlock the door. After some strain and effort the cell door swing open and Merric came stumbling out and up towards Attalia's cell. His hands were covered in blood and face was splattered with specks of it from Corta's face bashing.
To see such a sight terrified Attie, bringing back those memories she had rather left in the dark. So when he neared her and she saw the blood, smelled the blood, she couldn't help herself but scream.
[Oh wow, that last post. I am so sorry xD But it IS hilarious. Just for that I am NOT going to edit it.]
"You might be safer yet, in here," Merric said with a nod, and refrained from unlocking the cell just yet. He looked at Attalia sternly. "You hush, now, you understand me. I want not a peep from this corridor. I'm going to look out into the hall to see if it's safe."
And when Mercuxio peeked out from the holding cells, he spied a few deserters walking along the ramparts, the whole structure was built beneath an encampment that likely sprawled out into a larger, secluded area. He stalked out, keeping low just when a soldier came around the corner, spying him. Merric immediately ducked into the room nearest him and when the man came after, Merric was waiting.
There was a slight sound of a scuffle before a groan and a thud hitting the floor and Merric appeared with a club in hand, and made his way down the hall. He heard the sound of metal clanging and viewed his way through to what seemed to be a room filled with loot.
"Look at all this shit, man! what kind've priest travels around with a sword..."
And that was the last word he ever uttered before he found his head caving in from a blow to the back of it. Mercuxio was quiet in his assault, methodical and accurate as he killed both men inside the room, and found his belongings. His armor...his weapons, and even his necklaces. He donned those first, before pulling the white and blue robe of a Confessor over his shoulders. He bowed his head and reached for the broad sword he'd hidden away in his baggage.
He sheathed the weapon and moved back to the holding cells, appearing quickly down the hallway with keys in hand. Opening the cell, he looked up at Attalia and said nothing.
And when Merric returned, she was shaking something fierce. And as the cell squeaked open, their eyes met and she said not a word. In fact ,she didn't even move as panic gripped her like no other, making her mind and body useless.
Merric said nothing as he reached in and grabbed Attalia as gently as he could , leading her out of the cell and over toward the door. "We are going to get out of here, Attalia," he said softly. "Attalia, are you listening to me?"
Attie trembled then, the words breaking through to her and causing her to choke on a sob as tears bubbled forth from her eyes. ANd despite the blood that stained him, she threw her arms around him and clung to him tight, and buried her face into his shoulder, as if hiding the world from her sight would make it all go away.
But it would not make it go away. Not would it hide the robes he now wore. He knew the risk of wearing his colors, but this was a dire situation and he would not hide. Mercuxio embraced her briefly before turned his head down to look at her. "It's time to depart," he said. He didn't wait to ask if she was ready and merely swept her away with an arm still around her. Merric held tightly to his blade in one hand and stormed out of the hallway.
Attalia was sure her legs stopped working, but somehow she kept pace with Merric. Perhaps it was fear that drove her, the adrenaline they say soldiers have during battle. But this was hardly a battle, this was more like slaughter, for the moment they rounded a bend, she could heard someone being torn open, their grunts of death as blood and other organs spilled to the floor. And she nearly cried out, and she wasn't sure what stopped her, as she over heard the men speak.
"Keep cutting through his body. That artifact's gotta be on him somewhere!"
And such is the carnage of war.
Mercuxio turned into the room where they were torturing the man and rush in with a flash of steel. The edge of the broadsword slashed through the first man with a cold fury, the blade cutting through his face. The men beside him was gauntleted across the face and kicked into the chest. That was immediately followed by the tip of his sword.
Left alone, Attie could only watch the shadows of movement with numbed horror as she heard more cuts and blood and cries of pain into death. And she couldn't take it, she could't be in that room, as she found herself dashing back into the hall, desperately seeking air.
Merric knew the slaughter was too much for her to bear, but indeed it was necessary if they were going to make it out alive. When the room was devoid of life save for he, he searched the mens' belts for keys and took them as he returned to Attalia.
He knelt before her, looking about to ensure the coast was clear. "Attie," he whispered. "You've got to hold on just a bit longer. Pull yourself together. For me, and for you. It's the only way we'll make it out of here alive."
She knew he was right, even said so but...
"I know but..." And she felt herself shaking, and unable to stop.
"I can't help but remember.." ANd she closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
After a moment, she looked up at him, took his hand and squeezed it tightly.
"Let's get out of here.. and quickly."
Before the nerve was lost to her again.
Mercuxio squeezed her hands tightly in his. "I know. I know it must be coming back to you. But you've got to hang on just a little bit longer." He looked up and around. "We're surrounded on all sides. We've got to find a way to break through. I didn't get much of a chance to see who this compound is laid out, but we'll make it through. That I promise you."
He squeezed her hands again and rose, half-dragging her along as he walked out of the corridor and onto the battlements, and there he saw all sorts of soldiers, deserters, and even a few mages walking the ramparts, some conversating, wearing rag tag colors, with motley gear and a murderous look to all of their eyes.
This was what the war had really wrought. Desperate men seeking some semblance of society in a world gone mad. And they were mad themselves, with no where else to turn.
As they ran, Attie was practically tripping over her legs. And when they paused once to observe the next hallway, she found herself gripping more tightly to his arm.
"Merric.." she whispered, voice trembling. "I... I can help us escape. If.. if we can find a source of water... a large enough source..."
There was much her magic could do....
It was too risky, to put Attalia to use like that. He had no doubt there were Mordecai here out and about, that could thwart any chance of escape. "No..." Merric replied with some hesitation. He looked up to the sky, remembering his training and he raised his sword to the heavens. He breathed slowly but heavily and it was as if the motion of his breath was enough to force the sky to begin brewing above them.
Men stood in momentary awe at the on coming storm that stirred so quickly.
A thunderhead clashed and rolled and rain began to fall. The sky grew angry, rapidly turning red and the clouds twisted in a torrential fury and then fire began to rain down upon them. Firebolts began to plummet toward the earth, incinerating men that had no sense to move in time. But even for those that did, escape came too late, and they were scorched and cast aside in the radius of each fury.
Merric grabbed Attalia and pulled her aside, ducking inside the doorway dug beneath the earth for cover.
And all Attalia could do was look onward to the storm's fury in horror and fascination. And only when she was pulled aside to the brief safety with Merric did her eyes find his as she whispered,
"You're a mage, too."
Mercuxio met her eyes, though his remained solemn. His expression was without regret and his resolution was clear: to get Attalia out alive. "I am a Confessor."
Attie blinked. A confessor? What did he mean? Surely not the Confessor's she'd heard about in stories from church. She always that the idea of them was ironic, considering what they did and used. And she had only met one other....
She shook her head.
"I... I don't understand."
He dropped his head just a little, and sighed through his nose. "When we get out of here, I will explain what you want to know," was all he was able to answer.
"I trust you," she trembled, though it was evident she could not understand what was to come.
Chaos took the settlements and fire rained down from the sky still. Men screamed in agony and those that tried to run for cover would soon be heading their way. Merric took hold of Attalia's hand and his blade in the other and when one man came tearing around the corner, his blade was ready for him.
Mercuxio felled him and yanked Attalia along with him, and soon they were running across the courtyard, as chaos spread all around them, and they leapt between the ashen bodies of men.
Attie didn't know what was going on, but it felt like the end of the earth. Dead were quickly falling to the ground, screams and the fumes of the dead filling the air, and even as they ran so fast, so frantic to get away- eventually it was too muhc for her to bear, as she suddenly came to a halt and doubled over, vomiting onto the ground.
"The captives!" someone yelled, "they're getting away!!"
Despite her sour stomach, Mercuxio dragged Attalia to her feet and pulled her away. There was a wild whinny, and the pounding of hooves as a horse broke free, a beast as powerful as a demon and black as night. Merric's horse ran through the fire that raged around them and toward the exit. If they didn't move fast enough, they would be left behind.
Mercuxio dragged Attalia along, "C'mon!!! To your feet!" Damn her for her weak stomach, Damn these deserters, damn it all!!! But he would not give up, he would not surrender! He ran with Attalia until he crossed paths with the horse, the animal still wearing a saddle. Snatching onto it, he vaulted onto the saddle, half throwing Attie up there as they rode like the madmen they were.
It was all a blur. Her body felt like lead, useless and she- already at defeat. She had not registered when she was thrown onto the horse until she came to an uncomfortable landing on it, and instincts kicked him as she clung to Merric as the horse carried them away.
The earth was utterly torn apart as lighting struck the ground and men flew up in pieces into the air. Merric rode hard and fast, the horse beating the ground to the rhythm of madness. "We're almost there," he panted. He didn't know who was getting more tired, the horse or he.
Mercuxio pulled his mount to a halt suddenly when the world around them suddenly grew quiet and all that remained of the camp was smoke in the horizon.
The chaos was terrifying, overwhelming and drowned out even the thundering of hooves and Merrick's power. She didn't know what to think, what to do when the world grew still, but at hte silence, she lifted her head and peered around, gaping at the smoldering world of grey.
Whether they were safe of not, Merric didn't know. The horse was shaking, trembling beneath him, both in terror and in exhaustion most likely. He leaned forward to pet the beast of burden, and the horse started to walk on. He felt Attalia behind him, and somehow his tongue refused to address her. He just breathed softly, trying to calm his own trepidatious heart.
He wasn't the only one unable to speak. Attalia was still in shock after the whole ordeal. It was like living through a bomb, and her nerves were in full force, her mind racing and the rest of her tremendously tense. Her head was just swimming through the idea that Merric had secrets from her- and she couldn't shake the fact she believed him to be a mage. And a mage, apparently, from the church!
He kept the horse at a steady canter, the beast growing tired as they walked on. He panted himself, feeling a heaviness sink in and suddenly he fell off the horse. His side had stung with a stray arrow. He had never even felt the blow of the arrow, but the blood soaked and stained his white robes, the point having pierced the side of his armor. He laid his head back and everything went black.
Attalia had no idea where she had the strength or wits to get Merric to a nearby church. Though despite her fears of it, she hoped none would recognize her in this backwater area so far from home. Luckily, one of the head priests recognized Merric's attire, and took him into the infirmary where he was treated all night.
Attie herself was restless, anxious and sick, and after begging, she was allowed to stay in the same room as Merric, and long after they were left alone to rest, she slipped out of her bed and moved into his, and simply buried herself against him, weeping softly until she fell asleep.
[Lol. Hopefully it's not the same church they just came from.]
He groaned, turning his head this way and that. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and somehow freezing cold at the same time. He awoke, abruptly, screaming and finding himself in a darkened room.
A small, squat woman rushed into the room.
"Aye, sir, please calm down! You are injured... " And she moved to try to calm him, using gentle gestures.
"Unhand me," he growled, shoving the woman away. That only sparked pain along his side and he immediately buckled. "What happened? Where am I? "
The woman stumbled to catch her balance and frowned at him.
"You're in Tidewood."
Which might have been a relief, but it wasn't too far from Highwater. Perhaps only a day's journey.
"A young lady..s he brought you here. You had been injured terribly."
The woman bowed her head.
"We did what we could for you both."
Merric sat up, his side aching as he did so. The woman held her hands up in an attempt to keep him still, but he had to see. He saw Attalia beside him and his hand touched her shoulder. "Is she? Still alive?"
"The lady is fine. Let her rest. Poor thing is in shock. She doesn't appear to have any injuries but collapsed soon after the two of you arrived. She has yet to awaken."
It was then Mercuxio's turn to sit beside her and he waited for Attalia to awaken. He was still dressed in his Confessor's robes, and he did not know what he would say to her once she woke up. He'd spoken the truth, but it had no seemed to register.
And he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd somehow betrayed her.
Perhaps he did after all.
It wasn't until the sun set that she awoke. She felt heavy and disconnected and very weak. But as she managed to sit up, she panicked a moment, clutching the blanket as her eyes darted wildly around the room.
Merric had remained awake, sitting in the dark and watching the moonlight shine through the small window in that tiny room. He took a deep breath, one he held when he saw Attalia awaken from the corner of his vision. He peered at her, saying nothing just yet, but it was clear his eyes were glistening.
"You're safe," he whispered, gently.
His voice, though soft, made her jump as she turned to him. Her own eyes mirrored his, and soon tears began to wet her cheeks.
"I'm safe?" Her vision blurred behind those hot tears. "You could have died.."s he whispered, her voice breaking at the end as she silently sobbed.
"But I'm still alive," he said. "As are you." He sat up in his chair amidst her sobbing and he laid a hand on the bed. "Attalia. You're still alive. You can make it south, as you wanted. I'll see to it that you're safely transported. I promised you that."
ANd her only response was what she desperately needed, and to to hear those words, but to feel his body close to hers as she moved to cling to him in a desperate embrace.
Mercuxio was stock still for that moment that she hugged him. He felt more guilty now in that moment than before. But slowly his arms slowly went around her and pay her back, brushing her hair away from her forehead.
"I never could have dreamed my own home could turn into a night mare.... This place.... I hope you can see now why I must run."
"I know," he breathed gently, pushing her hair back from her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, holding her too him, just glad that she was still alive. "You will find your sanctum."
Attalia went quiet at that, before softly replying, "Sometimes I wonder if that would only come with death."
At that Merric stiffened. "What do you mean?"
She sighed against him
"I'm just so tired... and I'm always afraid. What sort of life is that? To never feel safe... to have no where to go, and to have to survive the nightmares that happened over and over again in my sleep."
"You will find your solace, Attalia," he said. "You will live a happy life, the one snatched from you all those years ago. You deserve it. I made you that promise, and I intend to keep it."
"But that seems like a dream, or the fairy tales I used to believe so long ago."
"Doesn't all life? The important thing is that you have a destination. I'll see to it that you get there."
She studied his face before asking him, "Do I?"
Merric pulled away. "Do you what?"
"A destination."
Despite all of her futile attempts to run....
The world kept her back- and the idea to be anywhere but on the run sounded like a fairy tale; wasn't real.
"Only you know the answer to that," Merric replied. He brushed his hair away and resumed looking out the window.
She looked to the wall, then to the ceiling as her eyes wavered.
"I'd like to believe that, but I've given up that thought long ago. My path... it already feels damned, or.." she turned slowly to look at him. "Its been damned so long... I don't know how else to feel."
"You want me to give you a destination?" he asked.
She looked at him, and felt her heart ache, as if it were being squeezed.
"No," she breathed.
"I'm saying I fear the journey is worthless, and should I continue south, there will be nothing for me but the dirt. I have no money, no pride, and a power I can no longer control," and seh felt her voice wavering, as a few tears escaped down her cheeks.
"I don't need a destination.... I need peace."
Mercuxio turned slowly to Attie, eyes glistening a little as the moonlight shone across his face. "Is that what you really want? Peace? Because you won't find it no matter where you go. We are not in this life for peace. We suffer, that is our lot. Do you think you are the only one who is suffering? That your suffering somehow has no effect on those that love you?"
"No..." She told him, bitterly. "It is not that. It is that I grow tired of this suffering."
"You and the rest of the world," he said quickly, voice crisp. "This is not the Attalia I knew. And for all the obvious reasons. You tire of suffering, and yet you wallow in your misery. Despair begets despair."
He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "The Attalia I knew would not stand around and wait for herself to 'know' peace, like a farmer waiting for the rains. You would find your place in this world. You would do something about it!" Mercuxio looked at her then with a hard gaze. "If you wish to rid yourself of your burden, I can help you. But only if those words come from you."
And all she could do is stare at Merrick as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Everything in my life has been taken from me. Ever since the beginning... It is why I must go... To leave this place and forget its scars. And Ive been trying, the Gods know I have.... But you're a fool if you think Hell is easy to over come. And for it, I am broken. I am not who I once was, nor can I ever be. Fate... Life, it moves forward and all I can do is walk... Even if at times I don't realize its backwards."
"Living is suffering. That is the staple of all survival. The sooner you realize that, the better. If you wanted to move on, to live for yourself, you could. No one said there was an easy way out. There are no short cuts home. Only giving would be wrong. Because I know you better than anyone else. You can. You will. You must. For no one else's sake but yours. If you wish to be rid of your magic, I can help you with that. But YOU have to want to live. You have to fight, Attalia."
She knew he was right on all accounts, but at his last suggestion, her face wrinkled in confusion.
"Rid of my... magic?"
What did he mean?
"Like.. seeking out a mordecai?"
Mercuxio gauged her steadily, eyes boring into hers.
"Your magic... Do you consider it a burden? Is it something you would never miss if it was gone?" he asked first.
"Such a question.." she asked, eyes wavering. "At such a time, in such a place... Of course its become a burden. It... this power, though it was nothing but a small portion of my life at first, has now been mutated through experiments into something awful. SO had you asked me, long before the war, I'd have to say No. But now? NOw that I am tainted?" Her expression was hot and grim.
"Yes.... by Angsar's name yes. This life, this power... whatever it is they saw in me, did to me... It has turned my life into a curse."
Mercuxio turned in his chair to face her and pulled out the necklaces of his order. The torch-emblem of St. Agratha on one chain and the Spear of Ansgar on the other. "I am a Confessor," he said, breathing gently through both nostrils. They were widened with stress.
"I am a priest of the Church. And a Templar within that Order, and it is my duty to hunt mages that oppose the Church. To hunt and kill. ...I have done many things that I would never speak of...even now." His tone was soft and solemn. "I am granted the ability to...pull the magical gift from a mage, it's understanding of it, and destroy it completely, render them completely....'normal'...for lack of a better word.
What he said...
It was a cruel joke. And her look declared that. Surely he was lying, or doing something to trick her.
But why? She swallowed the dry knot in her throat. It tasted and felt like sand paper as she carefully regarded his solemn features and digested inside her head, over and over again, the soft words he spoke.
And she felt herself tremble, her eyes blinking, not realizing there were tears.
"What?"
She gave a slow shake of her head.
"What do you mean.... I.. I don't understand."
Or wanted to understand. Because all of what he confessed.....
felt like a knife into her heart, that was twisting still and buried in fresh, and deep.
Mercuxio did not know how to explain it any other way. He shook his head and waved his hand at her. "Exactly as I've stated. I risk much by merely speaking those words. You either take them for what they are, or not at all." He sighed and buried his head in his hands.
He stood and moved toward the door. "When you are ready to leave, I'll carry you the rest of the way."
Growing quiet, she didn't answer him for a good long while. And when she spoke, the only thing she asked was, "When can we leave?"
Mercuxio remained silent and simply stood and walked toward a pitcher containing fresh water. He poured a cup and drank deeply, and soon he poured another and offered it to Attalia. He still didn't say anything, but his eyes were tired, reddened, and tears were streaming down his face.
Attie accepted the drink and hadn't looked up at him. She could feel the heavy tension in the air. After drinking her water, only then did she chance a glance back up to him, and upon seeing his tears, her lips parted.
"Merric..."
But her words stopped short. She didn't know what to say.
"If this is to be the end, I accept it," he began, lowering his head as if in reverence. "But you will not find peace, Attalia, I not think. Not unless you find a way to forgive yourself for what has happened to you. I want you only to be happy, this is true. But I don't want you to leave simply because you are running away, hoping against futile hope that the powers you have won't come back to haunt you."
He crouched low on his haunches, as if mulling it over deeply. "I want to help you find the peace you desperately seek. That is my job after all. I am a Confessor and a priest, all things done."
Attalia stared at him, her eyes moving as if reading him like a book, but her expression suggested her misunderstanding, or lack there of.
"Confessor?" she asked softly. "Your job...."
The church connection, all of it just seemed so strange to her. And she grit her teeth, feeling more vulnerable than she would have liked.
She closed her eyes, frowning.
"The church.. they wanted to cure me of this magic, too," she went on, fidgeting on the hem of her dress so much that her hands actually began to hurt, but she didn't want to stop, because she knew he'd be able to tell she was shaking.
That's when his hands reached for hers, grasping them in strong clasps. "The Church tried to cure you. But I can. I can. If done with care, I can take your magic from you. And can live normally. But only if that's what you want."
She looked at him before pulling her hands away.
"And how would your cure be any better than theirs? The things they've put me through... I hope to never endure again."
"You're not listening to me," he hissed and dropped his head in distress. "Attalia. I can help you. I've done it many times before. I can help you. What they did to you...it was horrid, a nightmare, and I wouldn't dream to fathom such. But what I do involves more than your physical body. If done with care, I can render you without magic.... but only if you're willing."
She couldn't even answer him, she was too overwhelmed, stressed.
Merric stepped back and sat on the chair again, sighing and burying his face in his hands.
Time passed between them, and the silence was heavy. It eventually made Attie too tired and weary, before she irritably, hastily and most tiredly muttered, "I'm sorry."
She hadn't meant to make him upset. After all, she did care for him a great deal. It was....
What he proposed, it was a lot to take in. And despite how much she cared for him, and all that he's already done for her so far....
Any trust she had in anyone, more or less vanished the moment she was sold off to the church.
"Don't be," Merric murmured sofi. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I will...live on. Just as you will. Think about. Then give me your answer."
He gave her a tired smile and leaned in, kissing her cheek. "I'm ready to continue travelling."
She grit her teeth. As anxious as she was to move on, she felt doubly so about traveling, alone, with Merric. But, like most options in her life, she had little choice. So, simply nodding, she murmured, "Okay."
Mercuxio helped her out of bed when it was time to leave. Though he was in little shape to ride, not doing so, wasn't an option. Merric climbed up into the saddle and bounded off.
Though concerned, she was too wrapped up in all that had occurred. The facts all revealed to her over what Merric was and capable of, had her head swimming. At least, physically, she faired better than he, and it was only after a long time that she noticed the sweat on his skin.
"Merric?"
She held her breath a moment, still looking up at his face.
"You look pale.. should we rest?"
Mercuxio was sweating, rather hard it seemed, and he turned to look at Attalia. He was breathing hard and he nodded to her. "Perhaps...that would be best," he said, and stopped his horse. The animal itself was exhausted and stopped off the trail they'd been following and rested in a grove. He slipped off the saddle and helped Attalia down, but stumbling a little as he did so.
She caught him once she had her own footing and frowned at the exertion. He could barely keep his balance, let alone stand.
"You need to sit... here.." She reached over to pull out their water skin. "Drink. We won't be going very far if that fever of yours gets worse."
Mercuxio huffed exhaustedly and stumbled backwards, planting his ass on a fallen tree. He was tired, more than merely dead and he laid back on the tree, looking up at the sky. He took the water in one hand and let it spill over his face, sipping some as it fell.
"I guess I didn't sleep as well as I thought."
Attie trembled but kept herself composed.
"Just rest." she stared at the sky. The whole world seemed at peace. How could the birds sing? "We can stay here as long as you need." no one would find them here... Right?
No one.
Mercuxio breathed hard until his heart seemed to settle down. He sat up slowly, his head settling down, and the world no longer spinning. "I was so concerned with you, I forgot I was shot with an arrow," he breathed heavily, and pulled off his armor, looking slowly at his side and seeing the bandages were bled through.
"You're a fool," she said, gently embracing him. "You're only human. Rest," she cooed, running her fingers lightly through his hair. "We're in the middle of no where. Its probably the safest place for us."
Though, as she studied his wound, she frowned.
"We'll need to change those and clean the wound."
That was the last thing Merric wanted to hear, but it was an unavoidable fact. He made the slow effort of trying to remove the rest of his clothes. "Help me. Please," he hissed and when it was finally off, he gave a deep sigh of relief. "There are dressings in one of the saddlebags."
Attie, if anything, was obliging and tender to Merric as if he were made of porcelain. She wasted no time retrieving new bandages, and was careful to remove the old. But the bandages were so wet, they clung to his skin.
Merric gasped when he saw the wound reopened. But it was not bleeding profusely as before. And it needed to be cleaned. "That one was nasty," he hissed.
"Here." she held up the opened waterskin. "Lets flush the wound. We don't need it to get inflamed, or worse."
Merric didn't protest at her ministrations. He turned his side, hissing lightly when the water washed away the blood.
She used what she could to gently dab at the wound to dry it, before applying pressure, gently, over the wound.
"You were lucky. The arrow missed vital organs."
"There are worst ways to die," Merric panted a little. It hurt just to stay still. But he visibly relaxed when the bandages were at last applied.
She could only agree when she kept silent and began the slow process of rebandaging him.
Merric lowered his shirt and peered across to Attalia. "Thank you."
Nodding, she handed him the waterskin.
"Here. Drink."
"No," he murmured, shaking his head. "I'd drink all our water. Besides, we have much ground to cover yes?" He still didn't get up though, his body was planted to the log, exhausted as he was.
"We can get more," she pressed. "Right now you need your strength. Please..." she tried offering it again. "Drink."
Merric was too tired to fight her on this and soon doused the water over his face and drank heartily. He laughed, it was sharp and loud. "I think a cold ale would be wonderful right now."
She gave him a small smile.
"Yes, it would. And to drink enough to get drunk." she sighed. "I can't recall the last time I got drunk."
"Then it's a plan," he laughed, "Drinks enough to stave off this stupid throbbing wound."
"Yes," she agreed, taking his hand and kissing it softly. "And many drinks to your health."
He watched her idly and smiled. With a nod, he said, "Let's go. Help me up."
She shook her head.
"You've hardly rested. We don't need you reopening that wound."
Mercuxio looked at her. "What do you think I brought you along for? I can use you for my crutch," he said with a grin.
"Oh, ha, ha. But you didn't ask so you will not receive."
"Then kiss my hide!" he said, and stuck his tongue out at her, content to sit on that log. Even recline on it.
Smiling, she shook her head.
"You didn't ask for that, either."
Merric was silent for a moment. "Neither did you."
"Now why would I ask to kiss your hide?" came her soft, playful reply.
"You shouldn't ever have to ask. You should be given all you deserve. Maybe life does give us exactly what we deserve."
Though her eyes sparkled with mirth, her expression turned more serious and the sparks turned into prickling tears.
"Please help me up," he said, sitting up with difficulty and trying to stand.
But she placed a hand on him.
"I know you're anxious but you need to rest, Merric."
"Rest for what?" he managed to hiss. "We need to get that ale. I can't sit here forever."
At that, she glared at him. "What good will it do if you bleed out before we get that ale? Hasn't the priesthood taught you patience."
He sighed. "Fine." And laid back once more. "Yes, mother."
Rolling her eyes, she settled in beside him.
"Don't call me that." She stared off into the forest. "You never listened to her anyway." she dropped her gaze to her lap. Her hands were wringing. "How is your family? Its been ages since I've spoken to any of them." Then again, they probably knew she was a mage, or might have even blamed her for Merric's sudden interest in joining the church.
"You're getting confused with my father," he lazily corrected. There was a solemnity that followed her question. "I don't know. I haven't seen them in many many months."
She went quiet too before commenting, "they both didn't like me, anyway. Fate seems to be trying all tactics to keep us apart."
"Why wouldn't they like you?" he asked, turning his head and wondering at her line of thought. His mother had always been fond of her. It was a shame what happened, but God worked in ways that could not always be understood by mortals.
"I haven't spoken much to them since, well, we ended... Things," she told him softly. "Or even you for that matter. But there are rumors..m. Though perhaps I am to blame for them as well. The paths I've taken in life.... Its no wonder I'm being punished now."
"Our troubles are our own, Attalia. You had nothing to do with it. I chose this life. Perhaps you didn't choose yours, but I chose this. And what mattered was that I loved you. Nothing else."
"Yes... But at what cost?" she sighed. "Sometimes I wonder... What would life have been like had I disobeyed my parents.., would things be any better. Its not like my decisions started the war, and I can't help I was born a mage. But even still, perhaps it's silly of me, but I still dream it would have been good. And aany suffering would be of my own accord."
"And what use is it to live in regret? I understand how you feel. Or I can damn well try to." With some effort he sat up and pat the space beside him. "Please sit down." He sighed, holding along his ribs. "We must try to live for our futures. Your future is to live well and beyond the horrors of this land. Or whatever you decide. Your future is your own. I want at least to help you do that."
Hesitating, she eventually took a seat beside him.
"I've been thinking about what you said..."
Merric fell silent at the turn of conversation and simply looked at Attalia.
She looked at him, eyes wavering.
"Can you really help me?" she asked, softly. "In regards to my magic? Can you really just... Get rid of it?"
He gave a slow nod. "But if I do, I can't take it back. It would be permanent. And it would be dangerous."
"Dangerous for who?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his.
"For you. And me. But if not performed with care, it could damage your mind," he said with a soft tone. "You must be sure thisis what you want."
She studied his face.
"But you were so adamant. Why would you ask? It could only increase my doubt." She sighed. "But if anyone in this world, I'd trust my life with you." she slipped her hand into his. "I'm just.... Tired."
"I must ask because I care for your well-being. Which is why I asked you to think on it. I would do this for you because I wish you only to live in peace. For me to perform this task, I risk my station and my life. But for you I would do anything," he said.
"Perhaps it's wise I think on it more.,, and about earlier... I'm sorry."
Merric put a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing it. "It's okay. I understand. You've been through a lot. I just want you to be happy."
She gave a nod then studied his face.
"How are you feeling?"
"Woozy, still. But better. I think I can stand. With your help. Please?"
She sighed but gave him a small smile.
"Are you sure that's something you want to try? We can rest here."
For the moment, it atleast seemed safe.
"Yes. I want to try."
"Stubborn boy," she said before standing up and offering out her arm.
He gave a laugh, using her to steady himself. "Thank you."
"So now that you're standing, do you feel better?"
"I feel like a man if that's what you're asking. So stupid and wounded? Yes."
"Well, now that that's settled, shall I help you to sit again?"
"Attalia! Just get on the horse. Please."
Attie gave him a look.
"Are you trying to give me a command, Merrick? You know I'm not your wife nor your pupil. And you should know I don't take orders well."
"Fine. Then I'll get on the horse." And he mounted the saddle with some difficulty, but stayed on nevertheless.
Attie gasped but didn't try to stop him, and to see him struggle but manage to get on, she cut him a look and placed her hands to her hips.
"Are you trying to injure yourself further?"
"Are you just going to complain or are you going to get on?" He asked pointedly.
"That depends, are you going to leave me here if I don't? Because then I'll hop on. Someone will have to take care of you."
Which was kind of funny, considering... Attalia had always been the one needing saving, ever since those she loved found out she was still alive.
"Then hop." He chuckled and pulled her up onto the horse.
Despite knowing he needed to heal, she took his hand and slipped onto the saddle with him, but made sure she sat infront of him as she moved to take the horse's reins.
"If we're going to ride, I'll take the reins." And after she stole the stirrups from him, she gently gave the horse's side a nudge to get him going.
[How does she just steal the driver's seat if he's already in it? XD]
Merric rolled his eyes. "Okay mother."
OOC: Don't question a determined woman >D
Once they were off, strangely, she felt better. Perhaps it was because he was at her side, and knowing how he felt... despite the years that had passed...
She couldn't help but be flattered, and fall prey to those emotions once again. But even still, so much doubt and fear gnawed at her. About her magic. About her corruption. About her death. And about the promise Merric had made to her. So after a long while of quiet riding, her voice came out softly to tell him,
"You know Merric... there was a time in my life I wanted to give you all of the world." She stared up at the trees, and studied how the light fluttered through its canopy. "I suppose some part of me wishes I could. The foolish, childish part of me." She laughed and cast her eyes down at the horses mane. "I'm not sure why I'm saying this... I suppose... somehow, it feels like this is a long journey to say goodbye."
Merric listened thoughtfully, holding a hand to his side and putting pressure on it.
He sat forward and reached across to put a hand on her arm. "I think so too," he said quietly. "But I wouldn't let you go if I didn't love you. You deserve the world. Your own world. To be free, at least from this tyranny."
He looked down, eyeing her hands. "I'm glad you didn't give me the world. It's rotten anyway."
She tried to smile at that, but it was a forced, sad one.
"This world... it doesn't seem meant for the two of us," she told him softly.
"Perhaps, but we must live in it anyway," he said somberly.
"Yes.." she sighed. Fate seemed cruel, and part of her had to wonder what was the point of living. Wouldn't Ansgar punish her in the afterlife for the 'taint' in her blood?
"So... Where should we go now? The world is our oyster, or at least I believe that's the phrase used in Cerenis."
"The direction of any good tavern with strong cold ale," he laughed and nudged the horse into a walk. The animal responded with a nicker. Merric leaned against her a little and sighed gently, holding his side.
"How are you holding up? If this is too much on you, we can take another break soon."
"I'm all right. Just sleepy. But I can hang on enough," he murmured and laid his head against her shoulder.
She smiled and moved just so so that her head laid gently against his.
"Sleep if you want. We'll ride for as long as we can."
He did sleep, though rather uncomfortably with his neck craned the way it was.
She only woke him when they neared a town. She was hesitant to approach, so she remained atop the hillside that looked the place over. It was evening now, the sun setting and casting the world in long shadows.
"Merric.."s he whispered, giving him a gentle nudge. "Wake up. We're near a town now."
His neck snapped like a crackle of leaves. "Gah, I shouldn't have slept like that," he griped. "What town?" He peered it over and somehow recalled having been here before. "Blackwater." And his tone was low, cautious.
She tensed at the name.
"So you know the place?"
"Not well. But it's a hideaway for outlaws and ruffians all the same. That being said its also the closest settlement within fifty miles."
Her eyes went wide.
"Are you serious? What are we going to do? Are they territorial?"
"I don't think so. However I wouldn't put it beyond them. I think if we lay low, and don't stand out too much, we'll be okay. But Ishould pprobably take off my robes. They're a bit conspicuous."
"Robes aside, I'm not sure we won't stand out. I don't think we look close enough to pass as thieves"
Merric eyed her a moment and then the bushes and trees around them. "No but we can bloody well try."
Attie frowned.
"Then.. should I help you remove them?" she knew he had to still be sore and fatigued. "Though I dare say us walking around with you in the nude might draw an equal amount of unwanted attention."
"I have other gear in the bags," he said, pointing to the saddlebags. "Leathers, ordinary clothes. In fact they were what I was wearing when we first set on the road. Or did you forget, picturing me naked all this time." At that he smirked at her.
"Picturing you naked?" she gave him a nudge. "How desperate do you think my life has become?"
"As the desert is arid," he chuckled.
Huffing, she gave him a nudge.
"You're not injured enough to be safe from my wrath, Mercuxio."
He snickered. "Yes, mother."
She rolled her eyes, sighing softly.
"I suppose we ought to find a place to change your clothing. No doubt there are eyes and ears viewing us from afar. Come, we'll back track for a while and get you changed. Then we can move onto this town."
They moved on to a secluded section in the trees. Merric was hypervigilant, keeping an ear out in the event that they were not alone. Mercuxio carefully knelt down and worked on the straps of his gear.
She too, kept her eyes and ears opened, and when she saw Merric move to take off his armor, she sighed and moved in closer.
"Here, let me help."
She was too nervous to remain idle, anyway.
Mercuxio hissed when he felt a strap run over his side, but he was glade it didn't open up the wound. He dropped the armor and pulled his shirt off, rummaging through the saddlebags for his change of clothes.
ANd as he rummaged, Attalia's hand moved out to rest over his. She looked up into his eyes, saying nothing, before moving forward to fetch out his change of clothes. She had known him long enough to know what he all wore, no matter the layer. And it wasn't like the priest had much clothing in his bags. But she was careful not to spill any of the contents before presenting the clothing to him, and moving to open all of the buttons of the shirt so it'd be easier to get on.
Mercuxio watched her in silence, curious and observant. Merric carefully turned his back, holding his arms out to better slip into the sleeves of his shirt. Once over his shoulder, he buttoned it. "What about you?" he asked. "You may wear whatever else I have in the bags. I do have more than one change of clothes."
She peered up at him with a curious frown.
"Oh?" She looked down to her own clothing. "I suppose even my dress should be considered." Though his clothing, she knew, would be a bit large on her. Then again, did it matter what a town of thieves thought?
"No. You look frumpy in that dress. You need to look like you're kind've tough. Add one of my pauldrons to your shoulder. That should do it."
SHe gave him a look.
"I think a woman in men's clothing would suffice," she went on, plucking out the remaining clothing and holding them up towards the light. And as she did she, it gave her reason to pause as she recalled the last time she had worn his clothing. And she felt her skin ripple over with goosebumps.
He had to laugh, he couldn't help it. "You look ridiculous," he chuckled. "It's too big. A bit. Not so much that it'd slip off."
She gave a feigned, haughty sigh.
"Thats probably been your plan all along. Getting me in clothes too big and simply tearing them clean off me," she flirted, taking a few slow steps his way.
"How dare you make such accusations. I am a man of the cloth, called to the highest order."
And she gave him the look.
Merric just chuckled, turning his nose up a bit and poking the end of his nose. "Are you insinuating I am less than a gentleman?"
And she gave him that look harder.
He shrugged and poked the tip of her nose. "We should be on our way. We've stood around long enough."
At the attention, she blushed. Dropping her gaze, she nodded.
"Yeah. We need to get you a solid bed to lay down in. Those wounds won't heal with us gallavanting around." sighing, she smoothed her palms down the front of her shirt, or rather his, but she could still feel they were clammy. "I guess you won't need my help? And what of your horse? No one can pick up by it what you are?"
Titus (the horse) nuzzled against Attalia's hand, nickering. Merric smiled and gestured to the mount. "I think he'll be fine tagging along. He's a smart pony." The horse grumbled something. "Excuse me. Horse. Fine strong horse."
"We're just looking for rest after all. Nothing fancy. Just a room. And no trouble."
Nodding, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Then let's be off before I lose my nerve."
Mercuxio nodded and turned them away from the forest clearing. With Blackwater coming closer into view, he dismounted on the horse and walked along casually, seemingly exhausted from a long journey. In truth it wasn't that far from the truth. But Merric kept himself wary, eyes flickering off to the side as other men loitering out onto the side, gestured to each other and stared at the pair of them.
"Just keep walking," Merric murmured to Attalia, looking back at them, and then onward once more. The inn ahead was a ramshackle thing, with the nails barely keeping the structure together.
She felt her fate was as flimsy as the inn, but moved ahead to take the lead. And as she entered, the smell of soured soup hit her and she had to force back a gag. The place was dimly lit and cold. Any fire that had been in the hearth was long gone, and Attie swore the place felt colder than outside. Either way, she tried to search the establishment for any signs of an owner, but only found a young boy, no older than seventeen, tending the bar.
After a long moment of staring, the boy asked, "Can I help you two, strangers?" And the grin he gave them was as devilish as a Fox. In fact, the boys whole person reminded her of a Fox.
Mercuxio looked between the boy and Attie. "Yeah, you can," he said. "Need a room. Just the one. Preferably one without spit all over it."
The boy just smirked. "'m afraid they all got spit in 'em. You'll just have to make do. Right then, come this way."
Attie followed quietly while ignoring the boy's gazes as he went on ahead to lead them to their room, which was barely larger than a closet. She frowned.
At least it wasn't completely slovenly. The night pot had been dumped out, and the bed was made. "Don't worry," the boy said. "Sheets are clean. I don't run no flea infested dump. It's just a regular kind've dump."
"It's fine, thanks," Merric said and paid the boy. He gave the pair of them a smirk before tossing him the key.
Once alone, Attalia sighed and peered around the room. It didn't even have a window- not that it needed it, for there were a few cracks along the side that offered some subtle breezes from the outside. The bed was also far too small for two people, but a bed was a bed, and she'd just have to trust the boy there weren't any fleas.
"I never thought I'd stay in a place like this."
"It could be worse," Merric noted. "They could have killed us both on sight and ransacked our corpses. Let's just get mildly comfortable and get something to eat. I'm starved."
"And you'd trust eating food from a place like this?"
"No. But if I see other people eat it, it might be tempting. Unless you'd prefer to go hunting," he suggested with a playful smirk.
"Hunting?" she laughed through a sigh, shaking her head. "I think the vagabonds living here might think we're acting strangely." She sighed again. "But perhaps I can just wait to eat."
"If it bothers you that much, I'll eat first, and if I don't pass out or die, then it's safe to eat," he said, sitting down on the bed and patting the space beside him. "Relax, Attie, everything will be all right. I've gotten you this far haven't I?"
"Yes, but what good are you sick or dead?" she looked to his bindings. " How are your wounds feeling?"
Hm, she had a good point.
Still, there were immediate matters to tend to. "Surprisingly okay," he said, opening his side, and lifting his shirt for her to inspect.
Inspect them she did, her brow furrowing before she looked at his face.
"That's at least some good news. But we'll still need to be careful."
"I agree. We should head down though, see if we can look around a bit more. The more we're aware, the better prepared we could be if things go awry."
She studied his face curiously.
"Are you not weary from the road?"
"I am. Which is why I want to be aware of my surroundings. And then enjoy a proper meal. Come on. Don't be all stuffy, just come along will you."
"Stuffy? Only you'd accuse me of that when I express concern." She moved closer to him, hugging his arm lightly. "You know I still care for you. I always will. But yes," she sighed. " of course I'll accompany you." she stood by his side, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. "Lets just make this quick.." She felt too uneasy in this town, and at least inside the tiny room without a window, she could pretend to be elsewhere.
"Okay. Just keep me safe okay? I feel so frightened," Merric said in a mock whimper. Coming down stairs, they went down into the tavern proper where a few people were having drinks at the bar. Some of them ate and a few were playing some music. Nobody gave them much heed, save for the young tavernkeep that eyed Attalia. He smiled at the pair.
"Can I get ya anything?"
Attalia barely cast a gaze towards the leering boy, but said nothing,a nd continued walking, her arm looped with Merric's.
"Food. What's on the menu?"
"Hmmm, meat. Stew. Chicken. Whatcha want?"
"Chicken I guess," Merric said. "Two, please."
"Comin' right up."
When the boy left, she looked up at Merric.
"I thought we were heading out?" she asked.
"Meal first. Then we go," Merric said quietly to her. In a few minutes two roasted chickens were handed out to them. And despite their setting the smell was divine.
She hated to admit it, but she too was nearly drooling at the smell. The boy grinned wildly as he watched Attie waste no time biting into her food and enjoying the sweet savory tastes of the chicken. She moaned lightly as she chewed.
"I think I've died and gone to heaven," she said to Merric.
Merric smiled at her and forced himself not to bow before his plate and pray. He tipped the boy a coin, and sunk his teeth into his own chicken. "It is very good!" he agreed. Indeed, it was the first real meal he'd had in days. Way better than road jerky.
Stealing a quick look to the boy and hoping he'd take the hint to leave them alone, she returned her attention to Mercuxio.
And she saw the dribble of grease rolling down his chin and smiled.
"Do you remember the first time we snuck out to have dinner alone together? I believe it was a place just like this, but near the church by my home." she blushed a little at the memory. "It's funny to think how long ago that was. We were just kids..."
Merric remained wary of the tavernkeep, and luckily he did go away.
He turned back to Attie. And smiled you. "Noreen's Place," he said. "I remember...you were wearing that white dress, with gold trim."
"You mean the one you stained?" she asked coyly.
Merric frowned. "Stain? Elaborate please," he said.
Attie blushed, tucking back her smile as she dropped her gaze to her lap.
"Oh, never mind..."
"I don't appreciate your dodginess," he said, raising a brow at her. "At least let me guess. Was it a meat stain?"
"Really, its not important.... And I'm not dodging." She sighed.
They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Merric finished his me, having been very hungry. And he even licked the bones clean. "Wow. I didn't realize I ate like an animal," Merric said, looking between their plates.
Attalia tried to smile about it, but it was forced.
"Well, you're far from your church, and your duchy....."
Merric made small shushing sounds. "You mean my home duchy, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, we're both very far from home." He frowned and held his hands to her. "Let's go back upstairs."
Attie had finished her meal by then and nodded at his suggestion. She felt bad for her slip of tongue, but it seemed no one around them was the wiser.
"Yes.. let's."
Merric took her hand, and carefully draped it in the crook of his arm. He stepped up quietly back to their room, closing it softly behind them. He'd noticed the change in mood and it made him frown. "Are you all right, Attie?"
He thoughts had gone to their past. So many good memories, so many things that still hurt to recall. Though she made the mistake, she broke it off...
SHe couldn't help but wonder had she ignored their parents wishes and made claims to marry him anyway? Surely they'd be disowned-
But could that be even worse than her hellish life now?
She peered up at Merric, studying his face before she gave him a sad smile.
"I think I'm well past the point of ever being alright." She sighed inspite of herself and looked to the bed. Taking a seat, she patted the spot beside her.
"I was just thinking of times past. You know... the wondering and what ifs. Sometimes I think its more torturous when I day dream that way." Her laughter that followed held a ring of sadness.
"And even now, the things I wish for..." She shook her head.
"I suppose I was never born into a life meant to be easy."
"No, it isn't. Is life ever easy? Do you think i don't have some regrets of my own?" he asked gently. "I know that all we can do, is fight for our future. Respectively." And smiled at her. "You'll find your place, Attie. I know you will. After all you've gone through, how could I not? Even when you don't have faith in yourself, I believe in you."
"You're too optimistic." She gave a flat smile. "Though I suppose one needs to be, or to pretend to be, in these times." She studied his face, thinking back through all the changes they had to endured and what brought them back to this moment. It was still strange they even ever got reunited, though she supposed this time around her brother was to blame. He just wanted to protect her...
She supposed Mercuxio wanted to, too.
But years were seen on him now, and though there was still an echo of the boy she had once loved..
a part of her heart was breaking to look at him. To think, they could have grown up to this point together, as all perfect love stories were written. But instead, she had died. And now what? Could she really run away from everything? Could that even work?
"I understand what you mean. But I don't know if I'm really all that positive," he admitted. He was weathered and an older soul than she remembered him. He sat down on the bed. "But if we don't hope, if we don't fight for a future, we won't have one. What else could I do?"
She forced another laugh. It was flat.
"You suggesting I become a soldier?"
His expression became drawn. "I would never suggest such a thing," he replied softly
"I know..." her stare grew distant.
"Then sit beside me. You're all the way over there," he murmured, and held his hand out to her.
She looked at him, really looked at him before saying, "I'm afraid to." But she moved closer anyway, close enough to almost touch.
"Why? Am I something horrid to you?" he asked, face now solemn.
She dropped her gaze before returning her eyes to his.
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Quite the opposite. You make me forget.... To want, to hope..." And at such a confession, her eyes began to sparkle with the freshness of tears.
"Because you look at me, and all you can think of is the past?" he said, looking at her with a deeper frown.
There was hurt in her eyes at such a statement.
"No..."
Why would he think that?
"Our past can not be changed."
She had been thinking of the future. Perhaps she should not have dared to dream, or let herself get so carried away with him. But it was a natural reaction.Merric had meant the world to her, and by the way she felt around him even now... He still did.
"No, it cannot," he agreed. "You should hope. You should want to hope. Because you yet live, and deserve a life of your own, to at least forget the troubles that have haunted you all these years. Live, Attalia, live for you."
She closed her eyes and kept them closed. This conversation wasn't getting her anywhere, and she was tired of going through the circular emotions. But she was a mess, and she wished she could help it.
She used to be so strong minded, so strong willed...
Perhaps that was the only reason she had survived. But even now- being broken, torn...
and now on the run...
It was a hard hole to climb out of, and the more she thought on it, the more suffocated she felt. She turned from him, ashamed tears were sliding down her cheeks.
"I know you're right," she said quietly, voice wavering, delicate- as if it could break, like thin glass, or ice. "I've gone through so much." She felt her lips quivering, and more tears prickle and heat within her eyes. "And none of it can I forget." And knowing that, she dropped her gaze and tried desperately to fight back those emotions that made her so weak, not even realizing her own corrupted powers were beginning to awaken....
and the levels of the river running adjacent to the town began to rise.
Mercuxio just stood and strode over to her, wrapping arms gently around her form. He kissed her cheek, feeling his own eyes well up, at the cost of everything. Of all those wasted years, and wondering if in the end, it was worth it.
At his embrace, she returned it in kind. Though it was fervernt, desperate as she held onto him and buried her face beside his. She hated being so weak. She hated how the memories changed her while she had a hard time fighting off sobs.
"Attalia," he murmured. "Say something."
She choked out a sob, and simply held him tighter.
"What is there to say?" She trembled. "I love you, I fear this world, and everyone close to me believes and were partly responsible for my would be death!" It was hard for her to stop her sobbing. "Gods... Merric..." She buried her face in deeper, just feeling his warmth, feeling his strength.
"I feel as though I hang on by a thread." She still trembled, her cling still fierce as she clutched him.
She sighed, tears wetting his skin. "Maybe two threads if I count you."
"Except you're not dead," Merric said levelly. "You're still very much alive and you grow stronger every day. You can make it out Attalia. You can survive. You can live at long last. Don't give up. Please."
She sighed and looked up at him with tear filled eyes before burying her face into his chest.
And in spite of herself, she actually laughed.
"You wouldn't let me... would you?" her lips trembled as she stole a glance at him. She cast her eyes away again and tucked in her lower lip. "Maybe that's why I feel so safe with you.... we're not family..." No, her family meant little to her, outside of her brother. "But we might as well have a bond thicker than blood."
Shaking her head, she moved to wipe some of her tears away with her wrist.
"You'll forgive me, won't you? It's hard to remain a lady when all the world's people seem to want to see you hang... or worse."
"Don't be anything that the world expects you to be, Attalia. You don't have to be a 'lady'. Just be you. I'll love you just the same," Mercuxio murmured. He smiled and pushed her hair back. "You don't have to apologize. You don't owe the world anything."
"I know," she said, after stealing a soft kiss. "I don't care about the world." Her eyes searched his."but I do care for you, for my brother.... I suppose that ought to be enough."
"We'll be in your heart, always, no matter what happens. You must look only ahead, don't linger behind. Be strong, Attie. You can do so much more."
"Do so much more?" she shook her head, but smiled a little. "Where and how?" Her smiled faded. "I'm mostly concerned with not become a subject of church experiments again."
"What I mean is, you are the mistress of your own life. I only want you to be free once again," Mercuxio said holding her face with his hands.
She blushed as she looked into his eyes, feeling that same fluttering feeling inside her heart as she did for him so many years ago.
"I love you."
"Then live. For you. Live away from this terrible place. I love you too," he whispered and kissed her deeply.
She whimpered at the kiss, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.
Then she smiled.
"That's what I was trying to do." But found herself kissing him again.
Mercuxio smiled and rubbed his thumbs beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears. "Thank you," he said and looked around them. He sat back down on the bed and stretched out, feeling the ache in every muscle. "I could sleep for days."
Sighing as she rested in beside him, she agreed, smoothing a hand across his chest.
"As could I."
She studied his face a moment before closing her eyes.
"Maybe tomorrow will be different..."
It could always be better, hopefilled.... even gay. But there was always the lingering doubt that had her toes curling. Because too many times she knew things always got worse.
"Perhaps," Mercuxio muttered and sighed tiredly. He closed his eyes, hoping to sleep, but he was too exhausted to let it sink into him.
"It just feels like we're living day to day... Surviving."
It had been too long of a road.
"Barely survivng," she sighed. "Let's rest. I'm tired too."
Mercuxio turned onto his side, bundling the pillow beneath his head. "I'll try," he muttered and closed his eyes.
Surprisingly, she was able to sleep. Fatigue had won out, and the night was long. But as it was each and everytime she woke up, she was startled and gasping, eyes wet and heart racing. And she had somehow found her hand clinging to Merric's. Whether it was by choice or not, she didn't say, but to see the man laying there, to realize she was free of the dream....
She soon threw herself at him and clung to him fierce.
Mercuxio jerked awake at the sudden contact of a body. He gasped and looked down at Attalia in the dark. "What!? What is it!?" he asked, alarmed.
She groaned and pulled away, burying her face in her hands.
"God's... It was just a dream... Just a bad dream."
Mercuxio rolled onto his side and put an arm around her. "Are you all right?"
"Yes." She forced a smile through trembling lips. "Dreams can't hurt me." She paused to regard him. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's all right," Merric murmured. He reclined backwards and sighed, trying to close his eyes once more.
Although Merric seemed to easily attempt to fall back into slumber, Attalia could only watch him for so long with sleep no longer coming to her. She stared at him for as long as she could, and deciding it was best to awaken now in hopes she might not rouse him, assuming he had fallen asleep. She needed time to think. She needed time to calm her beating heart. And soon she was walking in the dark.
Mercuxio awoke the next morning alone, or so he thought. Rising from the bed, he found no body next to his, and nothing in the room was disturbed. He was quiet, wondering if she hadn't just gone off on her own. What if she had? Wanted to make her own way, decide her fate. He wouldn't fight her on that, just wanted her to be happy.
He called out her name in some vain hope that she would answer.
And he would find no one would reply to his call.
Immediately he got to his feet and pulled his boots on - though he may have never taken them off come to think of it - and stormed out of the room. It wasn't long before he was asking for the whereabouts of a woman matching Attalia's description with few credible - or even coherent - responses. There was little more he could do.
But he climbed back atop of Titus, the black horse scared and antsy at his rider's mood and carefully trotted to where someone had said they'd seen her go.
She hadn't meant to stay out as long as she had. But she was dragging her feet in returning to Merrick's side. Returning to him meant she had to confront everything she tried to run away from, and she was tired of talking about this debate with him in circles.
She couldn't say she was surprised when she heard a horse and rider approach as she stood at the top of a small, stone bridge. She didn't look to see who the rider was, but simply stared off at the sky to where the sun was rising and to where it painted the sky with long hues of deep yellows, oranges and pinks.
The silhouette on the bridge was familiar in the auburn sky. And he slowed upon his approach, slipping from Titus' saddle as he did so and waiting for her to turn around or speak, or do something. He didn't wait long however before he arrived at her side and took his hand from his glove. He was quiet as he did so, slowly threading his fingers into hers. Or trying too anyway.
Her eyes followed to where she eased her fingers open to thread with his. And she felt her pulse raise at the connection. She supposed old love never dies.
Giving his hand a squeeze, she didn't turn to him as she spoke.
"I had a hard time sleeping. I hope I didn't wake you."
"I hadn't realized you left," he murmured.
"I went looking for you. but there was no trace left. Where did you go?"
" I went for a walk. I needed the fresh air." She turned her haze to his. " I hope I didn't worry you too terribly."
Mercuxio just squeezed her hand and he stepped in closer to her. "I guess you needed your space. I can understand that," he said, giving a small smile. It was forced in the corners, but his words were no less genuine. "I'm just glad that you're okay."
She felt safer with him there, as if she could forget all the traumas she had faced. And part of her wanted to forget, to live a blissful life without the pain and baggage of being a human mage in her predicament. Her belly burned a moment, thinking back to what they once shared in the past and had both shared together in the bed not too long ago.
She felt so vulnerable and shamed that she felt so needed by him. Even still, she found herself stepping in closer to him as well and closing her eyes, just letting herself immerse in the moment.
At the warmth of his form so close to her, the sound of the running waters just below their feet, and the cool, refreshing winds carrying the scent of pine through the valley.
Mercuxio parted his hand from her grip only to wrap his arm around her shoulders.
"How are you feeling?" He murmured.
"Frustrated," she admitted, smiling at him briefly before turning away and closing her eyes again. The winds felt nice through her hair.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" He leaned into her head, kissing her brow.
She looked up into his face. For a long while she said nothing, but found herself saying nothing more than the truth.
"I want you to make love to me. As if it's the last time we can here on earth."
[Because bridges, wind, and pine air freshener makes every woman wild with passion xD]
Merric nodded slowly, turned to face her front to front, bring his arm around her so that he held her. "Okay," he murmured. "Did you have a locale in mind?"
She laughed softly at her query.
"I would have presumed a bed.." she went on, smiling up at him.
"That sounds okay to me," he murmured. "I don't suppose however you'd want to head back to that stifling room. We can find another village up along this road."
"And make me wait?" she asked, drawing herself closer to him as she smiled at him, really smiled. "Although I suppose good things are worth the wait."
"We could make love here. Although the bridge does seem rather chilly," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her.
She sighed through the kiss and leaned into him.
"Or I could just stand here with you all day," she admitted, smoothing a warm hand up his chest.
"That would probably be more tiring than making love," he whispered, and turned his arms around to embrace her to him. His hold was strong, betraying the simple outlook his priesthood might have given him. "Attalia, I never stopped loving you," he managed to say, feeling his face and entire body grow hot.
She stiffened at his words, as the words hit her like hot lead, that soon trickled down in heated trickles through her limbs. But she didn't say anything. Perhaps she needn't. She simply looked up into his eyes, cupped his face and whispered, "I know." Before she kissed him softly, sweetly, then again with more hunger and need.
[When Attalia pulls a 'Han Solo']
Mercuxio met her kiss with growing fire. He didn't say anything further because the only thing on his mind was this moment, feeling her, falling back into what it felt like to hold her all those years ago.
He sighed with a feeling of faint relief. He realized then how much he missed her, what he'd missed by leaving, what they'd both lost in the years past. Perhaps now was not the best time to become nostalgic but he couldn't help himself.
In the midst of that kiss, he broken it with a needy breath, looking into her eyes and seeing the young woman he'd been meant to marry all those years ago, the ice of his eyes melting with the reddened heat that burned behind them.
Her eyes looked deep within his own, pausing only just a moment to cup his cheek before she devoured his lips with her own. Tongue pushed his mouth open and shoved into his mouth, wrestling and seeking his out as she pulled herself flush against his body.
"Take me. Run away with me. let's live our lives our own way."
The tearing within him was maddening. But the feel of her body was real and Mercuxio wrapped her tightly to him, as if the very wind and water might carry her away. He kissed her deeply, hungrily until he could taste her on himself. He whimpered at those words.
"I...I will," he found himself saying, giving into the need to be free of his binds, of his oaths. "I'm yours Attalia. I always was." Mercuxio pulled away only to take the reins of his horse in one hand and hold Attalia around the waist with the other, walking across the bridge forward, not looking back the way they came.
The flutter in her heart made her feel as if she were floating, and she hardly noticed as he guided her away. It all seemed but a dream, her hand slipping down to his before she squeezed it affectionately before leaning into his side.
Something in the air left a residue of unease. The idyllic rush of the water was in stark contrast to the ominous feeling left behind them. Mercuxio forced himself to look ahead however, keeping Attalia close to him with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, as they walked. "Did you eat before you went on your walk?"
She shook her head.
"No, I haven't eaten. But I can't say I have much of an appetite for food." Her eyes strayed towards the waters, recalling her own connection to it before she looked away.
"I guess if we're to travel it'd be wise to eat something."
"I have something you can nibble on. It's not much," Merric said. After pausing to rummage through his bags, he found a wrap of bread and jerky, offering it to her.
She accepted the food with a nod, but didn't move to eat it.
"What about you?" she asked. "Have you gotten a chance to eat?"
"Um no. I went looking for you. Eating was the last thought on my mind," he replied. "I'm okay though, really."
She gave a sheepish nod and nibbled on some of the bread, going silent and looking again towards the world around them.
"Things seem so strange now.... Back when I was owned by the church.... I always thought I'd just die there, and I'd never see or smell the world again."
"And being here now? Outside... What does that make you feel?" he asked with a soft sigh.
She turned to him, smile genuine, but crooked.
"Like I want to cry." Or maybe she would, as her eyes burned with the threat of it.
"If you must then you must," Merric said. "Holding it doesn't seemed to have helped much."
She sighed through her nose and smiled up at him before stealing a kiss to his cheek.
"Holding it back over a lot of things never helped. You'd think I'd learn my lesson." And she moved to brush a few tears from her cheek.
Mercuxio's expression was somber, leaning his head down toward her face, wiping her cheek with a crooked finger.
She released a sigh, and a breathy laugh with it before she turned to Merric and leaned up to softly kiss his lips.
"We all learn in due time," he murmured, kissing back with soft palpable lips.
She silenced him with a kiss.
"Just kiss me," she whispered, breath tickling against his lips.
"Is that not what I'm doing right now?"
Mercuxio chuckled, kissing her more. But only briefly. "Come now, let's find a warm bed to share. And maybe some proper food too. It's already lunch by now."
Sighing, she hugged onto his arm.
"Very well." And as a cool breeze swept between them, she gave one last look over her shoulder before resigning herself to following Merric's lead.
It took a few hours of travel down the road to find the next settlement. Taverns were not easy to come by in this part of the country. But they had little choice but to make due with their surroundings as it were. It took some gold to rent out a room for the night at the bar where they found themselves.
It was shelter, away from the elements, and the bed was comfortable. At least it looked that way.
"I think I could use a drink."
It was the first thing she said when they found themselves settling in. She raked at her hair, frowning at the knots as she added, "And perhaps a good brush and bath." She turned to Merric and smiled at him and approached his side.
"Are priests allowed to drink?" She hugged his arm and leaned into him. "Because I'd like to get drunk with you."
Drinking? He hadn't done that in ages. To do it here and now, it was a little startling. But he couldn't think of an excuse not to.
"It's not encouraged in the priesthood no. But I can make an exception for now I suppose," he said. "I can't I was ever fond of the practice or...have much of any experience with the nuances."
She laughed, actually laughed at his confession.
"Oh? Then I guess I'm in for a real treat. Come on," she gave his arm a tug. "I'm not much of a drinker myself. Maybe we can make a game of it, to see who can get drunk the fastest?"
"Do we have to? I really don't want to get sick. Let's just try a little bit of different drinks," he offered instead.
"Oh? And how would we do a game around that?" she countered, her mood a lot more playful than it had been in ages.
"I guess we'll see who can still stay on their feet afterward?" Merric said, completely out of his element.
She laughed softly.
"I would hope we wouldn't get that drunk." Her smile broadened. "We're not children anymore." And there was a sad look as she considered all that lost time.
"Maybe it's time we acted like it. We spend so much time moping and mourning. Maybe we ought to have a little fun."
Attie smiled and stole a kiss to his cheek.
"Yes," she found his hand, giving it a squeeze. "It's not like we have anything to lose. Come on," and she moved to pull him towards the door.
"All right! I'm coming!" Dragged along behind her, he kept step and even shut the door quietly behind them. Going into the bar, the sounds of merriment were loud and raucous.
The atmosphere was a nice change of pace, and Attie tugged Merric along at the sight of two empty bar stools.
"Here, this side of the bar looks clean enough and hey- two seats together," she told him with a smirk, and moved to pull out one for him. "Please, take your seat, mi-lord," she teased, holding the seat for him all prim and proper.
"Why thank you. You always did know how to make me feel like a lady," he smirked and scooted himself in.
"I don't fancy sitting at the bar, but I'm okay with it for now. So what will we have? This is your plan after all."
"Oh, but its your coin. Maybe just some ale. Something awful tasting." And she ordered as such while taking a seat beside him. Smoothing down the clothe of her lap, she sighed and found herself smiling.
Normal. She would love to have life return to normal.
"I have a wonder. Why must a gentleman always pay for food and drink?" Mercuxio asked nudging her gently. "Is it because I'm so devastatingly handsome and charming that you need more time to focus on my beauty than worrying about the tab?"
She smirked.
"I like that excuse."
She drank most which was poured as she sighed and drew fingers down her cup.
"I can safely say I did miss your face," she said quietly, eyes hidden behind a loose hanging of hair. Her lips itched into a smirk.
"Handsome or ugly." Her smirk grew.
"Oh? Is that really how you feel? Because I went out of my way to go and look for you in the cold and the unknown. Huh!". He made a noise of mock disgust and turned away. "And here I thought things were going so well. I mean, you have only gotten a few more crow's feet around your eyes, and liver spots on your hands."
"And here I thought liver was your favorite meal," came her counter, along with another hearty drink. "And crows, your favorite bird."
"Okay, okay. I deserved that," Merric sighed. "I'll pay for the food and drink. Because I am a gentleman. And you deserve a decent meal. Maybe I should've hunted and cooked something for you instead." He chuckled and nudged her side. "Attalia. I know you'll be okay."
She smiled a little, but it faded. She was starting to feel a little tired. Perhaps it was because she was trying so hard to not to let her scars get to her. She had survived. Wasn't that something within itself? Even still, she took stock to more of her drink and let it soothe her as she sighed. But then she was wearing that smile again.
"You were always a good hunter," she mused.
"Only with my father's hounds. And a proper bow. The ones in the army are fire kindling," he mused with humor. But it was lost from his eyes. Instead he put his arm around her shoulders and frowned. He didn't want to voice his worry, so instead he hugged her quietly and ate his meal without protest, even if it was a disaster.
"We should get on the road again as soon as possible."
Attalia sighed. He was right. They needed to move on. But no matter how she thought of it, she couldn't see a future. Perhaps whatever dreams she had had been robbed from her in the bowels of the church. But it was strange. She couldn't even imagine just a boring walk down the road. And even if she began to imagine the worse... her thoughts would be deterred, or rather, she'd try her best to avert them. She was tired of living in nightmares.
Somewhere between their sighs and reminiscing, Mercuxio had his arms wrapped around her, riding Titus again and moving on once again down the road, toward an uncertain future. It was resolute, must be done, and although he wished he could go with her, he couldn't. Too many things here and now kept him chained, and although he wished it weren't so, the promises he made, the oaths he kept, they were the ties that bound.
Somewhere in the quiet of travel, Mercuxio paused, pulling Titus to a halt. "Someone is riding up toward us," he muttered, and gestured Attalia to look up.
She looked onward, but despite seeing a figure, there was a strange sense of peace about her. Surely if it were trouble, and from just one man, Merrick would protect her. It would be like the days of their past. She shifted beneath him.
"Strange thing.. a lone rider."
But even just one figure was reason enough to give Mercuxio pause. He pulled Titus up from the side, and his hand held tightly to the mace beside him. He adjusted himself within the saddle and wrapped an arm around Attalia firmly. One lone rider, in the middle of a war. Sure it couldn't be anything dreadful, but Merric wasn't going to take any chances.
"Whoa there!" the voice called out from afar.
As it came closer, it became apparent that it was a male, blond, mid-30's, and he pulled the hood back from his face. The colors began to be familiar and an arm raised above his head, waving at the pair. Merric felt his stomach drop and he held his breath.
"Luc....Lucian!" he called out to him, and nudged Titus forward. "Attalia, that's Lucian. My old friend!"
Although Merrick seemed relieved, Attalia only bristled at the use of her name. Friend or not, she did not know this man, and she instinctively sunk in against Mercuxio's side.
Lucian rode closer and dismounted when the distance was little more than ten feet. He grinned sharply and approached quickly. "Merric, my brother," he muttered and held his arm out to him, which Merric clasped with eagerness.
"And ....who is this? You're not scared of me, are you darling?" he murmured, grinning, and looking her over.
Fear was definitely present. Strangers of any kind, even ones who might be close friends to her... lover? Friend? Whatever she thought of Merric now... Yes, even someone who might be of any relation to him did little to quell any doubts or fears about them- especially knowing he was a man of the church.
She kept herself guarded, and pressed into Merric, but did not let her eyes drop from his.
"I am just his escort," she spoke quietly, her voice rough, sounding almost like gravel. She didn't like him. Not the way he smiled, nor the way he looked. He reminde dher too much of the others...
Those who smiled at her, and looked fresh and clean, all thanks to the 'church'- while she was down there...
She closed her eyes, trying to fight off the memories that bubbled up ,hot and heavy, from within.
Lucian laughed, standing back and resting a hand on his hip. "An escort? Since when did you start escorting people around Merric? Have you gotten side work as a bodyguard?" he asked with genuine amusement. Still he didn't take his eyes off the woman. She was far too guarded to be any ordinary person. And if he knew Merric at all, it was that he did not do frivolous things.
"She is...my friend," Mercuxio murmured. He was just happy to see another familiar face after traveling for so long. "She's not used to strangers, is all."
"We don't have to be strangers," he replied, flicking eyes up to Attalia, but he looked back to Merric. "I'm just glad I found you before some messenger did, Merric. You're wanted in Lluin. The Godhand themselves want a meeting with you."
She felt so awkward and the tension was becoming too much to bear. Feeling ill, she shifted uneasily from where she was perched on the saddle, studying Lucian while trying not to be obvious about it. She bristled, however, at Merric's reveal on who she was to him.
A friend...
More like a dead friend. And what happened back at the inn.....
No, she had to remind herself. Those days were over. This was another place, another time....
But it didn't mean she had to like to be slapped back into reality like this. She supposed part of her wished they had never left the inn, and she found her eyes drifting towards the road well past Lucian.
Merric was at a loss. And he felt the pit of his stomach grow cold from the thought of it.
If Lucian had come out of his way to tell him this then certainly it must be important. However, he immediately remembered Attalia and looked between her and his friend. Duty bound him to follow. His oaths bound him soul and body until the very earth claimed him.
"I have other priorities," Merric admitted. "I'm afraid it'll have to wait." He looked back to Lucian, expression contrite and he shook his head.
Lucian's face fell, and something in his eyes darkened. "The call to the Order isn't taken lightly Merric. You have to come with me. She will just have to come too."
Her eyes went frightfully wide at the man's suggestion as she leaned into Merric, tense and scared. Go with him? No... No, she could not!
Mercuxio did not dismount, but when Lucian began to walk away from him, he followed, and pressed Titus between his knees. The horse felt ill at ease, but obeyed his rider.
"Where are you going?" he barked.
"I will have to report you then," Lucian muttered as he glanced back to Merric. "You will be punished for your disobedience. I'm sorry friend. That's the way of things."
"You don't have to do that. I will meet with them as soon as my endeavor is over, Lucian. You know I am good on my word," he pressed and maneuvered the horse so that he was facing the road. Lucian was quiet and approached Merric, head close to his leg, and he put a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"You know I have to. And the very fact that you think you can be an exception to the rules....makes it even more imperative that I do so." And with that he reached up and pulled Mercuxio by the sleeve, knocking him to the ground and savagely kicking him with an iron-soled boot. Mercuxio's breath left him as the boot bloodied his face.
She sensed even the animal was uneasy about this, and it gave her all the more reason to fear. But just as she imagined the situation to go- it went; and Mercuxio was suddenly doubled over in pain after a heavy kick from his supposed friend.
Titus danced about uneasily, almost tramping Merric and tossing off Attie as it went. She was able to fetch onto his mane to avoid falling into the dirt, but a fearful gaze to Lucian had an icy fear racing through her blood.
He was a fiend of the church- a very cold reminder of the life she feared, the life she ran from-
and put a spot light back on the real villains of this war.
Titus whinnied distressedly as he turned towards Lucian in an attempt to raise his hooves. Lucian backed away in time to skirt around the horse and grab Attalia by the leg, pulling her from the horse. He treated her likewise, and from the side Merric groaned, coughing and spewing blood from his nostrils.
"Att-" Merric hissed, vision blurry.
Lucian came back to his side and grit his teeth. His green eyes flared with anger, a hidden rage that had broiled underneath for far too long. "I loved you, Mercuxio. You were my brother. But it can't be any other way," he said and gave a final kick when everything else went black. Just as other Confessors emerged from the road and snared Titus in ropes, throwing him to the ground.
She had wished she had been kicked unconscious too, not because the sharp pain in her side was unbearably, but because the church men closing in on her made her chest seize up so tight she couldn't breath, and found herself doubling over, clawing at whatever she could in hopes to find air. But in her panicked state she became unstable, and her body's powers went without order- waterskins exploding from the sides of all the horses, one loud pop at a time before the waters themselves collected up in a fury and spiraled..
spiraled, spiraled around her as if a protective barrier while she feebly cowarded, unable to do little else but tremble and close her eyes.
[how can she use her magic if she's unconscious? xD]
Merric was carted away, dragged behind a horse on a wooden rack as the other Confessors went about her magical water spirals. Lucian sidestepped and gave her one final crack to the head to ensure she was out before he scooped her up and brought himself up on Titus, riding along after the lead Confessor within the party.
They traveled for some time, keep into evening as Lucian took them to a hidden Sanctum deep in the wilderness of the Sirantil Valley. Only then was Mercuxio awoken, chained and bared naked in a cold damp cell.
The crack was enough to silence the crawling waters, but it still seemed as if water hung unnaturally to her form. But did it matter now? For when she awoke, she hurt all over and could barely see. She couldn't remember what happened, but did remember whom she had been with.
"M.. Merric?" she called out into the darkness, moving and realizing, with a jerk to her wrist- she had been chained, and had chains on all four of her limbs.
Mercuxio's screams could be heard down the hallway, as the crack of the whip echoed down the hallway. And on the other end of her cell was a figure seated in a chair. He was tall, lean, blond, and he sat with his chest against the front of the chair, resting arms across it.
"Merric is occupied," Lucian said softly. "But I'm sure there's something else I can help you with, my dear. You're magic is very interesting. Water can be a dangerous thing you know."
Attalia cringed and drew away from him, chains rattling. The fear was very real, she could taste it, even feel it in the burn of her nostrils as she began to shake.
"Where is this place?" she croaked. She didn't dare ask him more than that.
"Oh I wouldn't worry you're pretty little head about it," Lucian chuckled as he stood up and approached where Attalia was chained up. Her form soft and vulnerable, and his eyes surveyed her. He breathed in deep, chest rising and falling to the pulse that thrummed loudly in his ears.
"You're safe, my little plum. Here in the loving embrace of Ansgar," he breathed, stepping closer to her and caressing the side of her face.
She didn't like that look. She didn't like being here, and she certainly didn't like being touched. The wildness and fear from times past, when she was locked away in the church unseen all curdled up inside of her and came out in a desperate attempt to lash out at anything that dare come near her-
and she bit at his hand, and bit hard.
A bite that broke skin and made Lucian wince. He yelped, retracting his hand and glowered at her. "You bit me. Like an animal," he hissed and his scowl turned into a grin, as he brought his hand to his lips and licked the blood away. The taste was exhilarating.
He still turned his hand up and slapped her hard across the face. "How dare you strike a servant of God," he growled and turned the same hand back across her face the other way.
The slaps rung clear through her ears but only forced her to lash out further, screaming, "You're the only animal here! You and your corrupt visions of the church."
Lucian grinned at her screams. Her resistance was so cute, it would be such a shame that it would be wasted. She would have made a good plaything for a while. Lucian would enjoy peeling her away one layer at a time.
Stepping forth, he reached down and let his left index finger play at the skin between her breasts. "You're a corpse, aren't you?" he said quietly. "The way you react so vehemently to my many truths. You don't want to be cared for by the church. Tell me why."
She tried to jerk back at his touch, but she was chained too tight. She settled for baring her teeth at him while looking at him through a ragged curtain of her dark hair.
"Why would I care to tell you anything?"
"Because Mercuxio is going to be skinned alive as we speak, if you don't," Lucian purred and gripped her face with a harsh hand. "Tell me why you hate the Church. TELL ME!"
Attalia grimaced.
"Why would you do that to him? He's done nothing to deserve it! Nothing!"
But then his hand gripped her face and her breath squeaked away from her, chest rising and falling rapidly with fear. Her eyes were large as he made his demands, and her eyes welled with tears.
"Because the church is a vile beast, corrupt and unjust- nothing like they preach!"
"Merric? Merric is the worst of them all. Merric is the snake that preys on the weak and betrays them in the end! He's the embodiment of all that vileness! And that's why I'm going to burn him. And everything he loves. Including you." And Lucian gave her a big fat kiss on the cheek.
Attalia jerked back, lips curling in disgust as she spat at him again.
"You're a monster! One even the God whom you serve would condemn!"
That kiss turned into a lap of the tongue and without hesitation, Lucian gripped the collar of her clothing and ripped it with a powerful hand. "Maybe," he murmured, a primal glow to his eyes. "Maybe we're all just damned."
Attalia's scream was caught in her throat as he tore at her clothing, nearly exposing her in the fire light. But even as she twisted, tried to move, tried to scream, tried to break free; she knew it was useless. No matter what she did, it seemed the fire in the man's eyes only glowed more sickly with hunger.
"There is no maybe where you're concerned!" came her hot retort, laced with the fire that made her buck. "Let me go!"