Chapter 7

A Midwinter’s Night

Val angrily shoved her clothes into another drawer in the large, rustic bedroom. She could feel Morgan’s stare boring into the back of her head, but she ignored it. That stupid idiot…

“What is your problem?” he finally asked.

Val slammed another drawer closed and turned to face him. “No,” she snapped, “I’m afraid I should be asking you that question, Morgan Pantara.”

He smirked at her response and closed his second suitcase. “Is that so, Valerie? Is that what you think? Would this happen to do with the fact that nothing is ever your fault? Are you blaming your foul mood on me now?” His face had a sinister twist to it as the candlelight danced across it.

“I can’t believe you,” she hissed.

“Oh, really?” He firmly gripped his pajamas and glared at her defiantly.

“Yes! You are acting like a foul jerk!” Val barely got all of it out with how poorly she was breathing. She tried to calm herself after screaming.

“Forget you,” Morgan sneered, stalking into the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on and prayed that he’d fall and knock some sense into himself.

She sourly changed her clothes and curled up on the edge of the king sized bed. It seemed like hours passed as she stared at the dark sky outside the window before the shower finally stopped. Val didn’t know if she could take much more of Morgan, so she decided to get out. “I’m going to talk to Rory,” she called.

Morgan burst out of the bathroom and grabbed her arm before she could walk three feet. She was surprised to see him run … while in a towel.

He was completely soaked, but he did look cute with his wet hair dripping above his eyes. “I-uh-I wouldn’t exactly do that if I were you.” He looked highly uncomfortable as the words left his mouth.

“Why?” she snapped, smacking his hand away.

He angrily grabbed her shoulders and stared straight into her eyes. “Earth to Valerie! Sully and Rory just-got-married! Hello? What in Merlin’s name do you think they’re doing?”

Val should have been thinking about Rory and her well being, but her mind drifted to other, less pleasant, thoughts. Is Morgan possibly thinking of doing the same thing with me? I mean, I wouldn’t mind – or probably not – I know I wouldn’t if by some chance…

Caught up in her wishful fantasies, she hadn’t noticed Morgan let go of her. She also hadn’t realized that he was back in the bathroom. Val sat down on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, drawing her legs up under her chin with her arms. Why does he do this to me? She wiped a tear from her cheek when she heard the bathroom door open. She looked away, not wanting to see him.

“I’m going to bed,” Morgan said blowing out the candles on his side of the room. Val ignored him and stared into the space around her. “Did you hear me?” he asked, walking in front of her. He lifted her head enough for her to see his bare chest and then stopped.

“Yea, I heard you,” Val mumbled. Morgan pulled her to her feet, appearing to be uncomfortable with how close they were.

“Good night.” Very softly, he kissed her cheek and then her lips. He walked over to one of the tall and elaborate dressers with crystal containers decorating the surface. He grabbed a large rectangular one that contained an amber liquid and pulled out the crystal stopper. She watched as he poured it into a glass and took a sip of it. Had anyone else been drinking it, Val would have asked what it was. But, from experience, she knew that Morgan liked one drink before he fell asleep, or maybe to help him fall asleep. Whiskey.

Annoyed, Val crawled into bed after blowing out her candles and tightly pulled the covers around her. Even though she tried to ignore him and what he was doing, she heard the bottle open two or three times more before he finally collapsed on the bed. He sighed deeply and nudged Val’s shoulder. “Wake me up when you wake up.”

Regardless of how close he was to her, she could smell the alcohol and wanted to gag. The smell was stronger then she thought it should be, but tried to fall asleep. Morgan started breathing heavily in what could have only been a few mere seconds. But Val … she felt restless.

Between the thoughts of every thing going on in her life and the smell of her husband, she was ready to rip her hair out. The whiskey smell was giving her a headache and his breathing was starting to get on her nerves. Having had enough, she sat up and fumbled for the matches on the bedside dresser.

She lit a candle and tiptoed over to the door. Being as quiet as she could, she slipped out into the freezing hallway. Why does it get so freaking cold!? Sully’s room was a decent ways down the hall and she didn’t know how safe it was to be out so late. Regardless, she needed someone to talk to.

Val’s feet fell numb halfway there and she sped up to a jog. She was tempted to look at the many paintings and mirrors that lined the wall, but she didn’t want to think about how cold she would get if she did. She finally spotted the deep wood door. It took her a few minutes before she worked up the courage to open it.

The room was pitch black, except for the light from her candle. She could make out two motionless heaps in the bed … or just one very large one.

“Rory?” she whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. Neither heap moved aside from the steady rise and fall of their breathing. “Rory!”

Her friend sat up in the bed and looked at Val curiously with sleepy eyes. “…what time is it?” she asked, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Val stammered, “it’s not important. I just – I just wanted someone to talk to…”

“Just stop talking,” Rory hissed. “Now come sit down before I hit you.” Sully’s head snapped to the side real quick, but he continued to sleep. Val sat near Rory’s feet on the bed and fiddled with her candleholder. Much to her relief, her friend was wearing clothes … even if it did look like Sully’s shirt she had on. She just wasn’t too sure about Sully.

“Is it Morgan again?” Rory asked, running a hand through her hair. Val found she could only nod her head in reply. “Well, what happened?”

Sully yawned and stretched out on the bed, exposing his bare torso. His eyes slowly opened and he looked highly confused upon seeing Val on his bed. “Val?” he sounded slightly worried, which was unlike him. Is he possibly worried about me? “Is everything okay?”

“Yea,” she lied. “I’m fine.” Sully being Sully, he rolled his eyes at the obvious lie and turned to Rory.

“It’s girl stuff,” she whispered. “And you need some rest.”

“Valerie does. She’s looked so dead the last few times I’ve seen her.” He looked at her and shrugged. “You always have circles under your eyes.” Sully’s hand idly ran down Rory’s leg and she stopped it, looking somewhat tense. She looked over at Val with an open mouth, but Sully wasn’t finished talking. “You would have been permanently scarred if you had come in like an hour or so ago.”

Rory’s slap echoed throughout the entire room. “You pig!” She kicked him for emphasis and scowled. “We’re going in the bathroom, Val.”

The two girls sat on the bathroom floor talking for a long time. Rory repeatedly gave Val encouragement with every negative thing she said, but it was she who spoke most of the time. She found it wasn’t one particular thing bothering her; she just needed to vent frustration about Morgan.

“You should really go and get some rest.” Rory’s eyelids were very droopy and she kept yawning.

But Val had another question … and it was a very awkward question. “Rory?”

Her friend’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and Val knew why. It was the tone of her voice. Rory knew a private and personal question was coming – the types of questions she hated.

“What?” she asked slowly.

“Tonight … you and Sully … did you really …?”

Rory cradled her head in her hands and sighed deeply. “Please tell me you did not just ask me that.” Val frowned and hit her head, pouting in the worst of ways. “What!?”

“I just … how am I supposed to know what to do if it happens to me?” Val exclaimed. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever been intimate with someone EVER! Rory, how-how did you know what to do? I mean, I’m being serious because if I were you I would have been scared beyond reason. I would have passed out cold in two seconds from a panic attack and what if Morgan-,”

“Shush!” Rory yelled. She waited until Val calmed down before she resumed talking. “If you worry about it of course you’ll be scared shitless – pardon my language. But it’s not the end of the world. You just ‘know’ alright?”

Val nodded her head, feeling embarrassed and extremely low. “Well, what’s it like?”

Her friend smiled broadly and shook her head back and forth. A laugh tried to escape her, but she suppressed it. “Don’t you ever watch movies, Valerie P.? It’s like ‘fireworks’, my friend.” Rory exaggerated everything she said, and sniggered as she stood up and opened the door. “But I’m really tired and you should be too.”

“Thanks, Rory. Good night.” Her friend let her out of the room and then closed the door. Val exhaled through her mouth, watching her breath disperse in front of her. It was back to the cold hallways … but she didn’t want to go back to the room.

She started to explore the halls. They all looked much the same, except for the pictures and mirrors that covered them. The particular hall she was walking down had large family portraits evenly spaced on the walls, which had a deep brown wooden half and a blood red top. There were elegant oval mirrors that sometimes found their way between paintings. The silver and gold frames for the mirrors had extreme detail. One had horses running through a field with trees and flowers circling around the perimeter. They were so beautiful.

A cold and strong hand fastened around her arm and yanked her backwards as she dropped the candle. It flickered out and she was engrossed in complete darkness as she was pulled into a room and the door shut.

“What the hell are you doing?” Val recognized the Scottish accent as a ball of fire appeared in his free hand. The light danced across his stern face and revealed that his hair was no longer blonde, but a deep brown. Eli glared at her and took deep breaths, sending his warm breath across her face. He smelled of autumn, even though Val didn’t know how she knew what autumn would smell like. But he carried the scent of cinnamon, apples, and leaves all at once. Regardless, though, it made her feel safe … and at home.

“I said, what are you doing out of your room!?” Eli demanded.

“I-I couldn’t sleep,” Val squeaked, giving an involuntary shutter from the cold.

Eli closed his eyes and let go of her arm, only to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her against him. “You do not have any right to be out of your room at this hour. You could be whipped if someone else had found you. You’re but a slave-wife here,” his voice was soft and she could tell there was sympathy in his eyes. “I’ll take you back to your room.”

Whipped …a slave-wife?

“Why would I only be whipped if someone else found me?” Val stammered, but not out of nerves. Eli took off the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around her.

“It’s a sick thing to do and I refuse to be any part of it. Just don’t do this again because I might not be the one to find you.” He went to open the door, but stopped. “There is no need to be scared, miss.”

Val raised her eyebrows and laughed bitterly. “No need to be scared? Did you not hear a word you just said?”

Eli stomped his foot and the fire in his hand dispersed to light every candle in the room. Val gasped as she looked at him, taken aback. His brown hair was falling in front of his eyes, but it did not hide the long scar that stretched down the left side of his face, straight through his left eye, which was still a vibrant blue. But his other eye was a deep brown, creating an eerie contrast. The scar, though healed, looked painful. It stretched from halfway up his forehead ending near his mouth.

“You look surprised to see me.”

“You look different, is all.”

His smile carried sarcasm as he looked at his feet. “I look wonderful like this, don’t I? I can change my face – it’s a power I have. I change it during the day to look normal, but it’s a pain to keep it like that all the time. This is what I really look like, so you can understand why I save it for night.”

But Val couldn’t agree with him. Although his face had that long scar, he looked a lot more handsome with it. He looked perfect to her, regardless of how he seemed to see himself. He looked rugged, fierce, and courageous. With his other face, he simply blended in, save for his obnoxious blonde hair.

“I think you look fine,” Val said sincerely.

He scoffed at her and walked over to a fat gold candle. “Fine is bullshit for ugly.”

“You look handsome,” she whispered. “Honestly.”

Looking skeptical, he smiled. “Well, then, thank you.”

They stood in the room, engrossed in an awkward silence. An awkward silence for me, at least.

“I should take you back to your room before Morgan wakes up and finds you gone.” Before she could demur, he pulled her out of the room just as it pitched back into its darkness. “And I pray that you were not searching for a way out of here.”

Oh my gosh…

Rory and Val scowled at the silver rings of thorns they had been handed.

“You have to wear it on your right hand,” Sully said, looking more tired than Val felt, “And it will adjust to whatever finger you put it on.”

Rory put hers on her index finger, but Val just stared at hers. A slave? Is that all I am now? Is that all I am to Morgan?

“Put it on!” Morgan grabbed the ring and shoved it on her middle finger.

“What got shoved up your butt?” Rory asked, smirking at him. He refused to say anything and gave her a cold look.

“Sully?” Rory put on her sweet and innocent voice.

“Yea?” He smiled at her, waiting for a request.

She got a mischievous grin and tugged at the long black linen skirt she was wearing, along with a matching button down shirt with a collar and a beater underneath. “Do I really have to wear this?”

Sully looked at her with remorse and nodded his head. “I did everything I could.” Rory pulled on her hair and muttered inaudibly under her breath. Her husband pulled her to her feet and said, “you two have to get down to the kitchens now.”

“You have to give me a piggy back ride, then.” Rory whispered, revealing her inner child … which was five years old. Sully raised an eyebrow at her, but of course he let her jump on his back. Rory happily rested her cheek on his shoulder and smiled. “I love Sully!”

He shook his head and walked out of the room, talking to her so that only she could hear. But Val knew what he was saying anyways. He was telling her how much he loved her … he was telling her three cherished words that she would never hear from Morgan.