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Post by Lord Laeghton Mercer on Apr 17, 2012 20:43:36 GMT -6
 It had been a long time. A long, long time. And time was the thing that seemed most likely to change a person, second only to experiences. Five years? Why, that had felt like an eternity! Five years without your best friend; five years without your lifeline; five years without the one person that knew who you were--but did she know him at all anymore? Would she still understand when he tried to explain himself to her? Only God knew at this point.
Ah, those letters. He wanted to chuckle but his quiet ire wouldn't allow it. "Well... ones that asked God to keep you close to him. That asked so many questions and never got answers. That wanted you back but thought it impossible." he sighed and bit his tongue. She didn't care, did she? Did she want to care? Did she even love him anymore?
She was coming?! She was! She'd come home. "Do whatever you have to, Wrennie. Just come back with me, please. Five years is much too long, sister." He smiled. He had to. He couldn't be mad with her like this--that was certainly no way to win back the heart of someone that had been through enough to refer to it as hell itself. He still wanted to embrace her, but he was able to restrain himself. "You're not a whore. You'll never be, no matter what you do. Being married doesn't make you a whore, anyway." He smiled, trying to be reassuring. But he wasn't very good at that.
"I was looking for you to save you--but I couldn't find you. Oh, Wrennie, we have so much to say. Let's just go home." He didn't want to ask anymore into her past until she was somewhere she could freely speak. A church was no place for these things, anyway. She was bitter. But Laeghton was going to have to warm his way back into her cold heart. Something bad had been done to her, and he could only hope to reverse it.
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Post by Wren Rae Mercer on Apr 17, 2012 21:43:48 GMT -6
Wren Rae reached up to play with her necklace, trying to think of anything to say to the man who she had dreamed would help take her away from the horrible abuses that she suffered at the hands of her late husband. She wanted it to be the same old Laeghton, and she wanted to be the same old Wren Rae that he longed to see. But she wasn't sure that old Wren Rae existed, or if she did, she had to be buried deep in her own soul. What else could explain the lack of warmth she knew she was showing to her brother, the one person who she knew cared for her unconditionally. She looked up into her brother's eyes, searching for the honesty there that she knew she would find. He had never lied to her before her disappearance. But for some reason, she couldn't fathom that he had never gotten all those letters that she had sent to him. She shook her head and turned so she was standing side-on to Laeghton. "It seems that your prayers were as unanswered as mine," she said. "God abandoned me. He left me to my fate, just as everyone else did." She looked up out of the corner of her eyes, almost shyly. It was a gesture that she had often used when she asked her husband to take another letter for her, afraid that she was about to be struck or that he would ask for her body in return for delivering the letters. He had done both on more than one occasion and she had simply gotten used to the gesture that made her look so defenseless. "Laegh...I can't promise you I'll stay in Avonderre..." She didn't want to lie to him or get his hopes up. She didn't want to force him to accept her presence forever if they couldn't reconcile. "But you have my word...I will speak with you..." She shook her head again. "I'm not talking about that, Laegh. If I was only my husband's....I wouldn't feel this way..." She adjusted her cloak on her shoulders, wanting nothing more than to steer the conversation away from herself, but she knew Laeghton wouldn't allow her to do that. She had a feeling that he was going to try his best to fix her, because that was his nature. If it meant something to him, he wanted it to be happy or work properly. It was his way. She feared that she couldn't be fixed though. "Where were you looking?" she asked, her voice raised a bit higher than she would have liked it in a church. "No...don't answer that Laeghton. I know that you would have searched high and low for me...but did you not think to search in the unusual places? If you could not find me here...where else would I be?" She brushed angrily at her tears and offered a short curtsy. She couldn't handle this conversation anymore. "I will be in Avonderre in a few days time," she said, trying to keep her voice level. "I must see to it my hostess knows where I am going...and if I cannot procure myself a horse, then my journey will have to be on foot. So it may very well take a few days." Before this whole fiasco, she never would have dreamt of walking such a distance, especially not as a lady. But no longer was she a lady, either of Solraya or Tyrian. She was a no one now, all her promising hopes for the future dashed. Perhaps the walking might do her some good, though a part of her balked at being left open to kidnapping again, especially after her last jaunt in the woods. "If that is all, my lord..." she said, turning her back on him to leave. Lyrics (c) Poets of the Fall Design (c) Rylah |
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Post by Lord Laeghton Mercer on Apr 22, 2012 15:52:01 GMT -6
Five years. Five long, long years. That long away from his best friend had taken a heavy toll on Laeghton's heart and mind (not to mention liver). But God giving up on her too? Oh, no. It couldn't be. Had God given them both five years of Hell to deal with on their own? Were they any stronger now? That seemed harsh, and unjust. Then again, lots of things had seemed that way lately.
"God gave up on us both, maybe, but he brought us both back. Give him that credit, at least, Wrennie. We're here now." he managed a soft smile. She had faced trials as had he, and wasn't going to ask into her problems any more right now. She talked, oh, she talked. But he felt compelled to let her go--just for now--and wait for her to come home so that they could really talk. That was what they both needed, it looked like, a long talk and some hot tea. That was the remedy for many problems, and he knew that Brandy would do no good. At least now he could go home with this new hoope in his heart--his drinking may cease for good.
"Take my horse," he said. He knew he could conjure up another with ease. He smiled at her, held the gaze for a few long seconds (all the while hoping he could fix what was behind that broken smile of hers), hugged her quickly, and then brushed by her on his way out. He'd see her in a few days' time, and looked so foward to that time. She wouldn't leave again.
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