Act II: Chapter Three

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Warning: Mature Content

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Warning: Mature Content



.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖




Winchester
Kingdom of Wessex

The rain continued to descend down from the storm laced sky, the droplets swathed her roseate cheeks the skin nipped by the chill from the cold winds that roamed. Lynette blamed the piercing air for her inability to form a single coherent thought. The weight of his words pressed down upon her, it was not heavy nor was it stifling as if it were hard to breathe- the difficulty of doing such an act that should come easy came more so from the shock she felt, her breath had hitched in her throat- unwilling to move. Yet Sihtric stood before her, the droplets of rain trailed his skin, his stare unwavering from her face- he waited and he knew that he would wait much longer in the hopes she would give him the only answer he had been yearning for.

Her thoughts clamoured in a mess and her were eyes stained by the rain, blurred and nebulous. Sihtric's heart raced in a fervent prayer or a plea, something of the sort, for his lips were sealed in this instant- he will only speak when she has given him an answer, he will wait.

She swallowed tensely, "You are not drunk." She whispered.

He shook his head, "That I am not, I can assure you."

"So you know what you have asked?" She breathed out, her voice quieter beside the ever heightening sharpness of the winds, the rage of a tempest sky bore down upon them stubborn and against the want to halt. He heard her though- her question, loud, to him her voice rivalled the anger of the storm above them.

"I will ask a thousand times if you wish me to, if you need me to." He pressed, "My question has not changed, it remains..."

Her heart pattered against her chest, she could hear the thumping of it, the sound of the flesh squelching and the blood as it travelled her narrowed veins so clear in her ears that she refused to believe he had asked her this. She knew he was not drunk, that, here and now, he had truly meant it for the words carried with them a desperate vulnerability Lynette had not seen in Sihtric, not before and not like this. But marriage, being wed- a vow taken and then tied to their souls. Lynette had grown and matured around a broken form of such a tether and she had never sought nor dreamt of shackling herself to such a bond destined to fail and wither, a connection formed from such an affair will surely shatter.

It had happened to her mother. Irregardless of the fact that she was never wed, the mere desire she sought after had tore her apart and Lynette witnessed each piece of her perish.

And she refused to let it happen to her, to Sihtric, to them both.

Her fingers began to pick at the skin around her nails, relentlessly pulling at the flesh as she blinked away the dew drops that had landed on her eyelashes. His hand appeared soft and gentle, Sihtric placed his over hers and then leaned over her, his hand pulled up the hood of her cloak shielding her from the downpour, "What is bothering you so much?"

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