Whisper Of The Free

Chapter 13 Ezra

Olivette

I awoke to tight hands around me and a solid figure to my back. I panicked for a moment before the contents of yesterday returned to my mind. I rolled over and was met with a sleeping Caspian. I was surprised by the lack of snoring, I always suspected him to be a snorer. I leaned into his touch and just lied there, with him, in my bed.

The events that the yesterday had given us drained everything from my bones. I felt violated and weak. If Caspian hadn't gotten there when he did, I don't wish to think what Chet may have been capable of. A tear slipped down my cheek and landed on Caspian's blue tunic. Almost as if it was instinct he pulled me closer to him. He wasn't cold, instead he was warmer. I recalled my grandmother's famous saying Cold hands warm heart. I stifled a chuckle at the memory.

Caspian released a slight groan and nuzzled into my hair. His hair looked more silvery when he was inside. "Caspian." I spoke, my voice was spent and rough catching me by surprise. He said nothing. "Caspian." I tried again, "I believe it's morning."

He groaned as his hands loosened around me and his eyes fluttered open before shutting again. A grumble escaped his lips as he opened his eyes once more to move some hair away from my face. "Did you sleep well?" He asked voice deeper and more groggy than usual.

I smiled and gave him a nod. He returned the smile, "Good." He placed a kiss on my head. "What time is it?" His fingers ran through his messy platinum hair. I mumbled, "I don't know." He stretched his arms up and groaned. "I suppose we should get up and check." I huffed but obliged.

I stood up and every bone in my body begged me to lay back down and hide from the world. Preferably with Caspian holding me again. I yawned and trudged towards the door. Caspian following close behind. The door creaked open and we went downstairs. Mother was in the kitchen making breakfast. She turned at the sudden creak of the floor boards and attempted to disguise her worry through a smile.

"You two are up early." She widened her smile before turning to the eggs in the pan. "Please take a seat. Breakfast should be done soon!" I nodded my eyelids feeling especially heavy. She hummed before remembering something, "Oh! Caspian, how do you like your eggs?"

He turned back towards, contemplating how he wanted his eggs. "Scrambled is fine." My mother nodded and beamed at him, "Consider it done!" My mother zoomed around the kitchen before presenting me with a cheese omelet with spinach and Caspian with his scrambled eggs. I smiled at my favorite breakfast and dug in. Thanking my mother through chews of food, only before being scolded for talking with my mouth full.

Father was still not back it seemed. "Mother, where's father?" She stiffened in her seat. "He came home late last night, he's still in bed." It was then I noticed the dark circle that she wore under her eyes that resembled polished lapis. She must've stayed up until father returned home. We ate in silence.

I was helping mother clean the plates and skillet and Caspian was putting away all the food that wasn't used. A creak sounded from behind and there was my father. He had a black eye but other than that he was fine, sleepy but fine. None of us dared to ask him or my mother what had happened after Caspian and I fell asleep.

"Olivette, take the day to rest." He grumbled as he slipped into his chair. "Caspian, all I ask is that you replenish the water troughs." Caspian nodded, determined to please my father. After he put the food in the pantry he was off to the well. My father turned to me and announced, "Chet won't be coming by anymore. Anytime you go into town though, I suggest you bring Caspian or I with you." It felt as though the life and color drain from me and the surroundings after my father mentioned his name.

I nodded solemnly before I returned to my room and changed into pants and a tunic. I allowed my feet to day me outside, without shoes on. Caspian was working hard as he carried the bucket from the water trough to the well with ease. His tunic was a little wet probably from a spillage.

I crept into the stables without him noticing and wandered to the stallions stall. He still had no name. He stuck his caramel head out of the stall once he saw me. I leaned my head on his muzzle. "My beautiful stallion." I muttered to no one in particular. I stroked his muzzle gently. A name rang in my ears. I moved my head away and gazed into the horse's eyes. His mane, a raven black decorated his forehead. "Ezra." I smiled and it almost seemed as though the horse's eyes were brighter and full of life after I spoke it's name. "That is your name now. Ezra." The stallion nudged my hands, pleading for me to continue patting him. I, of course, did.

Caspian finished his chores rather speedily. I returned to my room and gazed at my journal that rested beside my bed. The leather was worn and was one of the last gifts my grandmother gave to me. I wrote all sorts of things within the journal, however, what I wrote most was poetry. My love of poetry remained secret and was only for me to know, something that only my heart knew would forever be mine. It was my place to vent and hold my memories, it was my story.

Caspian knocked on the door before entering, and noticed my stare at the journal. He inched towards my bed slowly before sitting beside me. I felt his gaze on me, staring at me filled with worry. I contemplated writing a poem or just an entry into my journal about the events from the day prior. I had yet to write about Caspian. Caspians hand reached across me and to the journal.

"May I?" He asked with such ease. A journal of poems would soon no longer be just mine, and that idea didn't seem scary to me at this moment. I gave him a shaky nod and he flipped open the pages. He flipped for a moment before stopping to a poem I had written a year prior. I gazed at the title and winced at the corny name. I had written it after I had read a romance book and cried my eyes out as it ended.

"Character Love." Caspian reading aloud the title I despised and was ashamed of. He continued,

"I always wanted someone to love me like characters embedded in the words of a book

Someone who says I tasted like honeydew

Someone who looked at me and said I reminded them of summer

Someone who slowly sunk into my eyes

Someone who thought my eyes were the most perfect pair

Someone who would count the freckles that were splattered across my face like paint

Someone who holds me even when I fall to slumber

Someone who I can hold and play with their hair

Someone who's real."

I dug my face into my pillow as he read, embarrassed at how horrid my writing once was. Caspian said nothing, just patted my back and placed the journal back to its spot. He laid beside me, playing with my hair. We stayed like that till dinner.