Nevermore

Chapter 2

I drift in and out of consciousness.

Blurs of grey coalesce around me.The shadows have retreated and I feel a breathe of relief expelled from my lungs. Nothing is clear; it's in and out of focus, like the glassy ponds of the palace garden. 

In between my consciousness and unconsciousness, I feel a peculiar warmth. I catch glimpses of what I think is soft bronze. I can tell that I'm floating from the ground, but I don't know how.

The storm is still raging on, evident by the petulant thunder, but a soft lullaby greets my ears.

Cuddling into that strange warmth, everything fades to black.

................................................................................................................................................................................

When I come-to, I'm no longer cackling on the slick ground.

I can feel the softness of a straw mattress beneath by achy back. For a minute I mistake the cot for my bed within the palace walls, and am overcome with anxiety. Panicking, I bolt upright. Bad idea. Bloods drains from the head, resulting in a nasty pounding.

My eyes feel like they've been glues shut, but I manage to peel them open. It's not until I notice the mud walls that I relax, only to stiffen again.

Where am I?

The answer evades me.

I'm resting on a plain cot that's been pushed to the right side of the small room. Clay walls in case a single room that contains an unremarkable set of a table and chairs, a worn rug, and several shelves of drying herbs. On the table rests a chipped pitcher. 

My throat feels like it's been razed by fire, but I don't know if I can trust whatever is in the pitcher.

Slowly, as to not faint, I try to stand.I'm out of the bed, when I notice the sound of an axe striking wood.

There's a short opening in the mud walls acting as an entrance to the house. If I peek outside, I can make out the dense blur of the forest. Who's ever out there has an axe and is strong enough to use it. I decide to stay put. I don't know who brought me here or why. 

I'm silently analyzing what I should do, when I footsteps fall towards the house.

"You should be in bed," is the first thing he says to me.

For a minute, I believe that I must be staring into the face of a god. Whoever he is, he's gorgeous. His dark curls fall onto his sweaty forehead. His skin is the color of bronze and I've never seen such full pink lips. But what is truly remarkable is his eyes. They are the most peculiar shade of amber, like a tiger's. Sooty lashes frame the fiery irises, and his thick eyebrows only add the intensity of his glare.

I've been staring, and crimson flushes my cheeks.

For our sake's, I hope he thinks the pink is from my embarrassment of him catching me awake. I just stand there, not sure what to do with myself. I come to my senses, realizing I should be planning an escape. 

Could I try to slip past him out the door? He's majestically tall with broad shoulders. Not an option. 

Something in my expression must seem wild, because he slowly raises his hands in surrender. 

"I won't hurt you. Why don't you take a seat, and I'll pour you some water?"  he soothes.

I don' know whether to believe him or not. He's taken a sixteen year old girl... but didn't he save me from the rain? Not wrenching my eyes from him, I mutely take a seat at the table. He gives a tight smile, and cautiously moves to pour me a bowl of water. Everything is screaming for me to quaff down the drink, but I sip hesitantly. He smirks, realizing I don't trust him.