To Love A King

12

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I like to think that my anger is a sign that I'm still alive. Truly breathing and alive. My anger is a stable in me. The only part of me that I can remember being with me from my first coherent thought. 

Whether it was stupid anger, like, that girl has shoes and for some reason, I don't and that pisses me off. Too, why do those guards have so much power, why do they get to decide my fate and where to leave my scars? Why do they live like gods while I have never known what it feels like to be content?

But right now, my anger is gone, and I'm left feeling strangely hollow as I stare up at the stars through the cracks in the trees. 

I stand tall, craning my neck to get a better glimpse of them.

I know it is not enough, I need to touch them.

His brown gaze is heavy as I turn to the nearest tree. It's so tall when I look up at it, it blends into the deep night sky.

As I reach for the nearest branch, a sound I've become quite familiar with over the last couple days disrupts the eerie but calming nature of the forest.

The growls of the wolf king.

I clench my fists. He is really one to ruin a good moment. I hope Natia wasn't serious about the Queen thing. I don't know if I could live with this wolf the rest of my life without wanting to throw myself off the nearest ledge every other minute. 

'Let the fucking wolf rip me off this damn tree if he want's me so bad' I think as I reach out for the nearest branch.

Back at the village, I climbed trees all the time. 

Most of the time it was just for fun, just to stare at the sky. And, if no one was looking, I would reach my hand out and pretend to stroke the clouds. As if I were a god.

Other times, on very very very rare occasions, on the brightest summer mornings, when the sun was so blinding I could barely manage to look up, the gods would give me a gift. A fruit.

I would see it on a tree, and before anything could take it from me I would sprint for it. My hand would split open from the rough bark and sweat would sting my eyes. But the reward was worth it. Always.

The fruit, though bruised looking and overly ripe, was quite likely the best thing I'd had in months.

The sweet juice would dribble down my chin and the sun wouldn't feel as searing for just a moment.

And everything seemed fine in that moment. Everything was fine. I was a normal girl, who wasn't starving, who's skin was clear of all scars, who was just eating a fruit on a nice summer morning. Whose family was waiting for her back at the house, with a mother who was still alive and a father who was sober enough to remember her name. 

This girl had shoes and maybe even a dress. She had real friends who still went to school, who she could laugh with and cry with. She had a real life.

But then, the fruit would be gone, and the girl was always me. I would be pulled back into reality. And in reality, my life had been ripped apart. 

My mother was dead, my body was so scarred up that I would never catch anyone's eye, I was friendless except for maybe Anthony, and I think of it less as a friendship and more of a partnership.

And, I had no damn shoes.

I lift my foot up and manage to get my upper body on the branch. My bare feet get a good friction on the trunk and I get all the way up onto the first branch.

I then continue my climb towards the stars.

It was dark and I could barely see the branches in front of me, but strangely, I felt no fear. It was as if I trusted this tree like it was a person.

It is like its branches were arms that would catch me if I fell. 

'Painfully' my mind pipes up sarcastically.

Painfully indeed.

I'm done with these feelings. I'm done trusting people who don't deserve my trust. My mind is jumbled far too much for my liking lately. 

So, I push my feelings into a ball and stuff it deep into my stomach to be dealt with later. For now, I will climb this tree without it turning into some stupid metaphor. 

And so I do. 

I make it as far up as I can, the branches getting smaller and smaller and the sky getting bigger and bigger. 

The tree feels like home and a genuine smile makes its way up to my lips.

The cold air hits me like a truck and I'm finally where I want to be. I turn my head up to the stars. I feel closer to them than ever.

I know a king is waiting for me back on the ground. I know that I have some messed up feelings that I'll eventually have to deal with. I know I should feel guilty for even remotely liking any of the luxuries that have bee afforded to me so far.

I know I know I know.

But right now, none of that matters, because the tree offers me support and the vast sky offers me freedom.

That's enough I think. That has to be enough.

+++

When my feet reach the ground again, the king is pissed. Though he does not tell me, he does not need to.

I'm tired I tell him.

His eyes rake over me, assessing for damages. I try hiding the cut on my hand, that I must've gotten at one point while climbing. Though I did not feel it.

"Don't hide your injuries from me little fox."

I roll my eyes at his tone. Harsh and cold as usual. 

Annoyed, I show him my hand, "A slight scratch wolf. Nothing to worry about."

He doesn't see it that way.

Grabbing my arm none too gently, he leads me out of the forest.

For now, it's okay. This forest has left me with far too many questions and not nearly enough answers. 

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BAM, this chapter is so nice, I really liked delving into lillian's thoughts. don't freak out though!! there will be more of our fave wolf king in coming chapters :D

for now, please don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this! i know it took a little while coming but i really do hope you enjoyed it as much as enjoyed writing this!

maybe even comment your thoughts?

anyways, as usual, thank you for reading!!

this is completely unedited