The Leper and The Angel

The Unspoken Vow

He was a Leper, and she was an Angel.

Lepers should never kiss Angels.

Angels should never kiss Lepers.

That was the unspoken rule.

And it was something the two dear companions silently vowed to themselves to uphold.

The Leper's vow, for the Angel's sake.

The Angel's vow, for the Leper's sake.

'Twas the Leper's desire to keep the Angel free of sin, and thus, his sickly taint.

'Twas the Angel's desire to keep the Leper free of taint, and thus, her inferior stock.

'Tis better that way.

For why would both have reason to doubt?

The Leper, Baldwin, would keep his dear Arella free of his disease.

The Angel, Arella, would keep her dear King free of her lowly class-and thus-her lowly self.

Despite the pair adamantly upholding such vows, the ache was still present.

The ache of desire.

The Leper desired the Angel's virgin lips.

The Angel desired the Leper's lips that were not cold steel.

It was this simple, and earnest, desire that brought Arella to the King's quarters. Despite having aided the healers in simple, trivial tasks away from the actual treatments taking place, the woman dared not to cast her gaze in the direction of her King.

It was an act of both respect, and bashfulness.

Respect for the Leper's privacy, and bashfulness for never seeing a man so declothed before.

It felt wrong for Arella to look upon a man's body.

Wrong for her to even think of such a curiousity.

Wrong for her to look upon a man, and they not be wed.

For surely, only those on matrimony gazed upon the naked skin of one another?

At least, that was what Arella thought.

Yet, here she was, the Angel. And here he was, the Leper. Their bodies barely seperated with nothing but the thin and delicate silk tapestries in between.

It still felt wrong.

Wrong for Arella to look upon her King whilst not in his graceful attire, but instead in bandages soaked in salves. He was not naked, but to the young blonde's innocence and shyness, he may as well have been.

Her oceanic gaze only dared to look upon his lithe form in mere flickers, before losing her courage, the soft flickers of candlelight casting a nigh intimate glow around them. She could see where the bandages did not cover-his piercing eyes rimmed red and his lips.

His lips, and not the cold steel of the mask.

Arella could feel a flush of red hue burn upon her face, embarrassed and bashful as her eyes met his, seperated by the tapestries. It was a gaze she found she could not hold, for the Angel swiftly diverted her gaze, wiping a sweatly palm against her clothes.

Her fleeing gaze was one the Leper noted, for when he spoke, his tone was soft and gentle, apologetic, "I apologize my appearance is undeserving of your eyes, my lady."

It was hearing those words that caused the young woman to attempt to swallow the ball that had formed within her throat, "No, no, I, I apologize. I fear I will disrespect you by having my gaze linger, too long. I would never want to do that. Never to you, my king." Arella replied, voice soft, a mere whisper as she hoped to hide the quiver held within her words.