City of the Underground

Losing and Fighting

"Jonathan, no matter how hard we try we can't seem to get away from it. Your heir to the throne." Caitlin turned her anguished face away, giving her back to him. "There is no room for love on that path, only duty." A stray tear slipped from her weary eye leaving a wet trail down her hot cheek.

Jonathan stood in the small clearing staring at the woman who had just been lying so peacefully in his arms. Her hair bright as the sun cascading down her back hung like a sheet over her shoulders. Her hands, rough and calloused from working her bow, were balled and trembling at her side. He thought about what it would be like to be a king with an empty heart. A warm breeze licked at his neck. He drew in a deep breathe as he tried to assess his own thoughts. Time stood still as he watched the only thing that brought his life hope slowly slipping away. He swallowed the thick gulp in his throat threatening to choke him.

"How am I to rule a kingdom without love?" He asked. "Do I not need to know what love is in order to have compassion? To show my people gratitude and rule benevolently?"

The breeze brushed the wet drops on her cheeks and Caitlin ventured a slow peek at him. She rarely ever let herself be intimidated by outside forces, but, somehow, in the wake of the circumstances, she felt so small. She could hardly meet his ardent gaze.

Jonathan wanted to reach out and grab her, pull her into himself, but thought she might be determined to escape. She reminded him of a wild deer being hunted. They became so skittish when they felt threatened. The wind picked up and flicked her hair over her shoulder. It was in that moment, when she looked like a whisp of a nymph that might depart at any time, that he reached for her hands. The small gesture gave Caitlin the courage to lift her eyes. When she locked her eyes on his, she saw his burning gaze bearing into her.

"There is only one way for me to rule justly, and it is with you by my side." He said softly. His bright eyes were like beacons drawing her in.

A small tear slid down her cheek and he brought his thumb up to wipe it away.

Caitlin felt lost in the torrent of emotions.

Is it foolish to hold on to hope against such odds, she wondered.

She would have dwelt on the question endlessly, turning it over. Letting her reason take over and talking some sense into her wild heart, but Jonathan left her no time. He gently caressed her cheek and brought his hand down to the side of her neck. He pulled her closer until his forehead rested on hers. Then, he tucked his face into hers and kissed her.

His tender lips melted the surroundings away. The distressful thoughts that plagued her flittered away, and she remembered why she held on to foolish hope. He held her so close, so fervently, that there was no questions left to consider. They WOULD always be together.

He pulled back slowly, still holding her close.

"We will find Thomas together and set everything right." He said.

With the magic of the kiss broken she again found herself wondering. What were the possibilities of ever really finding him? But when she opened her mouth to respond all she heard herself say was "All right."

**********

Kaylana sat amid the cluster of decorators meant to help her prepare everything for the ball that night. Jean Pierre had a sea green chaise longue brought out and set by the high windows to the veranda. He had his workers about him in a ragged circle. They were like worker ants with Jean Pierre as the high queen who sat over them. There were samples of different colored table clothes and unlit candles strewn about them. He sat before them like a king during council. The only one he invited to share the elongated chair with was Kaylana. She sat at the end meant to support the feet.