• Penitence

    Comments Off on Penitence
    March 25, 2013 /  Heretic dairies

    Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.”

    The words echoed in my head as I asked forgiveness over and over again, bouncing around and muddling until they became unintelligible chanting of hollow words. I opened my eyes again and stared blearily into the room. The last of spring’s warm sun was creeping  across the floor and I knew it was only afternoon still and glanced about my surroundings.  A simple desk stood against the opposite wall and on it I could still see the steam wafting off the stew and the condensation on the ale that had been left there. I imagined I could smell the rabbit cooking on the spit before it was added to the broth… my stomach called for it and I quickly shifted my focus back to asking forgiveness. I would be here for a very long time and there would be plenty of time to feel hungry later. I closed my eyes again.

    Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.”

    My stomach roiled and my eyes flew open. Desperately, I tried to bore my sight through the darkness to see the temptation left for me. In the moonlight I could barely make out the bowl and flagon, no steam or smell wafted from it now, it having been long ago cooled. It would do, any food would do. I tried to stand but the restraints bit into my skin again and I was reminded of why I was there and I relaxed again. While I felt hungry, my repentance was not yet complete. I closed my eyes again.

    “Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.”

    I ache all over. My knees, my elbows, my back.. it feels as if somebody has strapped me to a chair and left me to my own thoughts as a strange form a torture. But then again, wasn’t it what I have just done? Lamb’s wool on the leather cuff would have been better for comfort for the next time, but that would be the opposite of why I was tied to the chair, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be long now. I closed my eyes again.

    “Forgive me Mother, for I have sinned.”

    What have you done, child?

     

  • Fevered dreams…

    Comments Off on Fevered dreams…
    March 21, 2013 /  Uncategorized

    “For a swordsman, you have terrible footwork.”

    His laugh was a low rumble, deep in his chest. A chuckle full of warmth and love as he closed his silver-grey eyes and placed a tender kiss on my beautiful long hair.

    “For a jeweler you are quite light on your feet, or are you a doctor now? A doctor that jewels or a jeweler that docs?”  he mused as his lips lifted into a teasing smirk.

    I feign exhaustion as I give him a tired sigh. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” How long have we been like this? Hours? Days? His arm about my waist. My small, meek hand in his strong, calloused one. I can feel every single crease, every wrinkle in his palm as it rests on mine. His fingers unable to help themselves from toying with the cream ribbons that lace the back of my bodice. How did we get like this? Moving as one over the tabletops, stepping delicately as we waltz between the empty wineglasses. So many questions, but I feel weak, or am I just drunk?  Placing my cheek against the velvet of his tunic I lean into him for support as he wraps his arms around me, protecting me. Protecting me?

    “I want you to be safe, Gwen. Promise me you’ll be careful.” His voice is soothing in my chest-pressed ear, lulling my eyes to close as the room began to spin.

    “Gavin, the forge…”

    “Please, Gwen. Don’t call me that, I want us to be friends.”

    “Lord Keeper…” I feel him nod as her runs a hand lovingly over my long hair again.

    “Gwen. Are you ready?” I know what comes next, has to be done. I take one last inhalation of his scent before I nod my head. “That’s a good girl.” The familiar voice whispers as he lowers himself to one knee before me and presses his stubbled cheek to the bare skin of my belly before planting a tender kiss upon my ribcage. Slowly, his fingers cut through my skin and between my ribs with the easy of a dagger. The same strong, calloused hands that held me moments before wrapping around one of my ribs and tearing it from its brothers with the ease of a child.

    “Ah..”

    Pain. Pain and light, or is it light from the amount of pain? There’s people here, I know it. I can hear them, I think they are people? I don’t know. Why is everything so blurry? Ah. I’m choking! Someone is choking me! Sticking their fingers down my throat .. It’s bitter, so bitter.What is this? I .. what is happening.. to me?

    “Gavin?” I can feel the figure grin beneath it’s scarlet trimmed hood as it lifts a hang to the peak of the hood and drops it to his shoulder. His grey-silver eyes sparkle with mischief as he extend a hand down to me from atop the dining table, inviting me up with him. One of my hands runs nervously over the tips of my cropped locks while the other splays over the blood staining the side of my bodice.

    “Would you like a glimpse of paradise in exchange of a moment of suffering?”

    Dumbly, I nod my head as I take his hand and step onto the white tablecloth covering the table. Slowly we begin to waltz atop the table tops in the empty restaurant of the Bluebird’s Ballad. It seems an aeon we dance in the comfort of silence before I murmur to him. “For a swordsman, you have terrible footwork.”

    “For a jeweler you are quite light on your feet…”

    “I want you to be safe, Gwen…”

    “Please, Gwen. Don’t call me that…”

    Pain…

    “Would you like a glimpse of paradise in exchange of a moment of suffering?”