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Okay, so this is a story I wrote today, and it's really random, and I started writing the first paragraph without an effing clue of what it was about, but then after that I thought long and hard and I have a great plot going (in case you haven't noticed, I like to create long and complicated histories for my characters so that they are more dimensional. So if this is a bit confusing and you don't know what's going on for a while, that's okay, it will make sense as I write more). Anywho, that's all I'm saying about what it's about; the rest I'll let y'all figure out. Enjoy! COMMENT!




I lean against the iron door and watch the man inside through the window. His back, facing towards me, is bent over, his dark hair hanging in his face, his feet lying like defeated soldiers beneath the hard wooden chair. Everything about him suggests an old, tired being who wants nothing but to sleep away the nights. But I know what hides behind that slump, what craves and churns inside that empty shell, what looms through the darkness that has bound him to this room. Those brilliant green eyes, shining demonically, those eyes, those eyes that have haunted me these past twelve years; those jewels of vengeance; that piercing, analyzing stare; the intense, furious hate of a man who has lost all and now yearns only for the strength to steal it back. Oh yes, I know what lies within the man before me.
I am glad his back is to me. I am glad no one can see the tenseness behind my own plastic expression. Why won’t this man just die?
I let out a small snort of annoyance and glance away, only to come face to face with Aleya. She looks so anxious about this man, and my jealousy fires up just a bit. I don’t show it.
She would have been too preoccupied to notice anyhow. “Is it true? You’ve found him?”
“We’ve caught him, yes.” I nod to the door. “In there.”
Aleya’s eyes widen slightly, and she pulls away slightly. “Does he seem much different?”
“Does a snake ever lose its venom?”
She refuses to reveal what she is thinking, but I can see the memories, and unwinding trail of rumors as to his whereabouts, of fear, of regret, and finally of the incidence twelve years ago.
I take a step away from the window. “I was hoping you wouldn’t have heard about this yet, to be honest.”
She looks at me questioningly. “Why is that?”
“It’s been long since we’ve last seen him, but not long enough. The pain of his memories has not left his face, and I fear that if you speak to him he will get all riled up and become…well…” I trail off, but she knows what I mean. Derenhov has never been the peaceful type.
Aleya stiffens. “I- I can’t talk to him- yet.”
I watch her carefully, reading her frown, the nervous way her brow is furrowing. These years of knowing her serve me well now. “I thought perhaps not,” I say softly.
Silence. She takes a tentative step forward, then stops. I know she fears for what she doubts she can face, even now, even so many years later. Finally she takes a small breath and looks through the window.
I watch her face. It softens in surprise, in dismay at this crumpled man…but is that…it couldn’t be- sympathy?
I force out words, almost as though I want to distract her. “The doctors administered to his wounds. None were very severe. It appears he is still as tough as he always was.”
“What kind of wounds?”
“Mostly what you can expect from someone who has been hiding in the Serean Desert for twelve years. Cuts, bruises, some plant infections and a few animal bites.”
“So that’s where you found him?”
“Of course. Where else?”
“I thought perhaps-” She frowns. “Never mind.”
“What?” I pull her shoulder back so she looks at me. “Aleya?”
She sighs and glances up at me. “Knowing Derenhov, I had thought he would’ve been gathering some sort of alliance, perhaps even outside the desert. That’s what…that’s what the man I used to know would have done.”
“Well…everyone- even The Banished- would have known his name, and known all about his excommunication. Even speaking to him was taboo, hon.”
“Yes.”
I watch her. I’m worried that she will think me too pleased with his capture, like I have some strange revenge of my own to satisfy. “We had to bring him in, you know. The unusual deaths of the natives…the reports of missing kids…we knew it was him. You understand, right?”
“Of course I do.”
“And….you know what he’s done…” I add it, I know, because the look of strangled, reluctant sympathy on her face bothers me. She looks tense. I can see in her kind eyes that she had forgotten, for a moment, what he tried to do to us.
She glances at me sharply. “I know.” Her eyes harden. “I’m glad you brought him in. His banishment in the Serean was hardly just for a man of such evil.”
I blink in surprise at her sudden harshness. But that is Aleya, after all; so protective of the ones she loves.
I take her in my arms, hold her closely until she feels calm again. I pull back a few inches, and she runs her fingers along my breast. “Thank you,” she says softly.
“For what?”
She glances up at me, and I see for the thousandth time that face I could never live without. “For taking care of me.”
I’m silent for a few moments, smiling at her, holding her waist. Someone calls from behind me. “Highness! You’re needed in the second corridor!”
I give Aleya a quick kiss and hug. “We can talk later, alright? I’ll see you at dinner!”
“Alright. Bye!”
As I hurry down the passageway, I think of the man who hates me most in the world, and of the woman who loves me more. It seems I have an interesting time ahead of me.