sweetie
Refugee
Hiya all!
Disclaimer: Fiction (not feeling particularly witty today
)
Bono was led to Creide’s rooms and promptly left alone. He couldn’t believe that the many days of traveling brought them to this fortress. He had almost convinced himself that they were getting closer to returning the necklace, closer to returning home. Instead, he was in the middle of a maze --riddles and lies. From the moment that they arrived in this land, they were pawns and were moved accordingly. Even now, he didn’t know who to trust. Why should he trust whatever he’s told now? What proof could these people offer to back their words?
He looked around at the opulent elegance of the Queen’s chambers. He wondered what her story was. What kind of woman was she? He saw the way the guards obeyed and respected her. Even that snake, Fletcher, seemed to have a high regard for her.
He turned as Creide glided into the room. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her skin was flawless and porcelain white. Her luminous green eyes and rosy hued lips were the only color on her face. Her red hair was swept off her face and loosely pinned atop her head. She smiled seductively at Bono, noticing his appreciation of her physical traits. She slipped the robe off her shoulders and Bono’s eyes followed. Beneath the robe she wore a diaphanous gown of pale blue silk.
"Make yourself comfortable, Bono.” Her voice was smooth as honey. She gestured to the settee across from her as she eased herself onto chaise lounge and tucked her bare feet up and underneath her.
The youthful picture she presented surprised Bono. But then, maybe she was young. Then again, maybe that was how she wanted Bono to see her. Young, naïve, and vulnerable, were traits that inspired men to protect the helpless women, when in truth, it was the men who needed the protection.
Bono sat down and waited for her to begin. Creide looked him over. He was even more striking than last night. His dark hair was almost black and was a sharp contract to the arresting blue of his eyes. He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. His calm confidence was extremely desirable to her. She immediately imagined herself making love with him. For a moment she felt herself become shy and timid. She looked away in a hurry lest he could read her thoughts. She caught herself and quickly snapped out of it and regained control.
****
By the time Andrew walked Gioia back to her room, tears were flowing silently down her cheeks. He noticed this as he was letting her back into her room. He had every intention of leaving her at that point, but her tears tugged at his heart. He wiped away an especially fat tear with his thumb.
“Please don’t. There’s no need for tears. Creide needs Bono to lift an enchantment that she has been under for more years than she cares to remember. She won’t hurt him unless he refuses outright. As for you, she’s not so cruel as to cast you out. Also, I’m here to protect you.”
“She looked at him in disbelief. “Who are you?” It came out sounding like - who the hell are you!!!
Andrew cleared his throat and to his own astonishment, he told her. As he spoke he led her away from her room and out into the gardens. They walked along the fragrant blooms as he opened up to her completely. He told her everything except for his involvement with Aisling. For some reason he did not, or rather, could not bring himself to discuss their strange relationship with Gioia .
Gioia wasn’t expecting such a heartfelt telling of his life. “Was Brynn your only family?” He nodded sullenly. “Wasn’t there anyone that could calm Aine? Explain things to her? Someone to ask for mercy?”
Andrew shook his head. “Aine was past anger. She was hurt and humiliated. No offense, but many women exact revenge based on hurt and humiliation. She was no different. It was a blessing that she banished me for I would’ve killed her for certain.”
Gioia shuddered at the thought. She would like to think that Andrew didn't have it in him, but of course, how well did she know him. “I know you can’t forget what happened to your sister, but what do you have to gain by helping Creide lift her curse? Is it all about revenge?”
Andrew smiled and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “No my sweet. It’s not only about revenge.”
***
Creide took a deep breath and began to tell her story. She knew she had to tell the truth and hold nothing back. Bono seemed like an intelligent man and she couldn’t risk him not wanting to help her. More so, if he refused, she would regret having to kill him.
“A long time ago I was married. My father, who was the King of Connacht, had arranged my betrothal to Marcan. Marcan was a powerful chieftain. He was ruthless and arrogant, and as uncouth as the lowliest serf. He was also much older than I was. Needless to say, I didn’t love him. But that didn’t matter since it was a political marriage only for the joining of our lands. Thankfully, he already had buried a wife who had borne him a son.” She laughed without mirth. “His son was slightly older than I was.”
Bono knew she was trying to sound nonchalant but he could hear the regret in her voice. Trapped in a loveless marriage to an old man who had no use for her other than a political pawn.
“His son had tried to stop the marriage. When he couldn’t he decided that he was going to use it to his advantage.” Creide sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “He made sexual advances toward me. I was repulsed and thwarted his plans by telling his father. Marcan didn’t do much more than laugh, but for the time being, his son stopped his harassment.”
“How long were you married to him?” Bono inquired.
Creide smiled at him. “You are trying to figure out how old I am.”
Bono smiled back shyly.
“I was married to him when I was fifteen. I was so naïve. I thought love could bloom as flowers bloom slowly. Before she died, my mother asked my father to promise her that he would allow me to marry for love. He agreed but decided against it when he met Marcan. He did not want me to lose the chance at a marriage to a good man. He didn’t see the difference between marriage to a good man and a good marriage. Marcan was neither. I was lonely you see. Years of years of loneliness.
Soon after my husband died, a prince from the Isle of Skye came to the High King’s court at the same time that I was there as the High King’s guest. He was handsome and charming. Much like yourself, Bono. In fact, you remind me of him.”
That may be a good or bad thing, Bono thought to himself.
“His name was Cano Mac Garnait. We spent many hours in each other’s company. He made me feel beautiful and adored. He wrote poetry for me. Beautiful poetry.” She paused in remembrance. “We fell in love. However, because we were both there under the hospitality of the High King, I refused to lay with him. Such a fool I was.
Before leaving court, the Prince Cano arranged a meeting with me at the lake for a fortnight hence, in a last attempt to woo me. I was flattered and intrigued. I wanted to be wooed, charmed, and swept off my feet. He gave me a stone, which he said contained his life. It was a custom of his people to offer this charm to prove one’s love and devotion. I was to keep the stone safe until we met again.”
Creide stopped talking and she lowered her eyes. Bono frowned as he noticed a tear slip down over the bridge of her nose, slide to the tip and drop to her hands that were crossed in her lap. He got up and sat down next to her and took her hands in his. She looked up and saw compassion on his face. Who was this man?
“My stepson,” She said with contempt, “found out about the plans.” She was crying freely now. “There was a scuffle---I-I dropped the stone. I never heard from Cano again.”
“Did he…?” Bono couldn’t finish the question. He didn’t have to. Creide nodded.
Bono blew out his breath and stood up. What kind of land was this where a human life could be contained in a stone? He had many questions but did not care to ask them. He did ask one.
“What has this to do with me and Gioia ?”
Creide wiped her tears hastily and stood up. She again was the regal queen, in control.
“Cano Mac Garnait was Aine’s son.”
This explains much. Nothing like pissing off a powerful goddess by killing off her son.
“So – Aine is the one that cursed you?”
Creide nodded. “I see that you are familiar with my plight. Yes, Aine wanted me to live with the guilt so she cursed me so that I could never leave my land. The boundaries are the walls of my dungeon, until I receive poetry that fills me with the same love and emotions that Cano’s poems did.”
Wham! Bono felt the wind knocked out of him. “Why me?”
Creide shrugged. “I was told that you were ideal for this. This has been a very complicated and intricately planned undertaking, Bono. I was not allowed to look to my own people to pen the poem. Also, I was forbidden to invite someone to my kingdom for this specific purpose. Thanks to the map that Andrew created, you walked onto my land of your own free will.”
“Andrew! Andrew created that map?” Bono was outraged. He stood up and started pacing. He was disgusted with himself for trusting the Wareings so completely. “How are the Wareings involved in all this?”
Creide shook her head. “I truly do not know. When Andrew told me that he knew of a way to release me from the enchantment, I was excited and did not ask for details. This was his idea and at no time was I suspicious of his motives or his plans. He had followed through on his promise to me. I cannot explain what he has done to make this happen for me and I never asked. I trust him completely for here you are! Here to help me.”
Bono eyed her for a moment, judging her sincerity. How could she not know of Andrew’s plans? If this were so important to her, why wouldn’t she want to hear the details, to be in control of every aspect of her release? Unless—unless she felt it was hopeless and didn’t want to be involved until there was a reason for her to feel hopeful.
Also, what did Andrew have to gain by all this? Was he not as honest to Creide as she thought? Or was he in love with Creide and was doing it all for love? And still, there was the unanswered question of why was Gioia there with him.
Was her presence there an accident? How far did Creide and Andrew’s reach extend? Did they plan the abduction at the concert! Could it be? Gioia wasn’t supposed to be taken. He alone should’ve found the amulet and transported to this land for this purpose. For some reason, Bono didn’t think that Andrew pulled this off alone.
This was too much for him to analyze, especially since it seemed as if Creide wasn’t going to tell him much more even if she were involved. Andrew was the one that knew the entire story. If anyone was to be considered the threat and the danger, it was he. And he was with Gioia !
“What about Gioia ? Obviously, she does not fit into your plans, but she is wearing the amulet of Leanan Sidhe.”
Creide nodded. “The amulet has to be returned to Aine’s temple. Therefore, Gioia cannot stay here. While you are writing the poem for me, Andrew will accompany Gioia . He will make sure that no harm befalls her.”
Bono exploded. “There is no f*cking way Gioia is going anywhere with Fletcher! She is not leaving here without me.”
Creide smiled calmly at his outburst. He stood before her, completely outraged at her simple statement. His blue eyes, which had darkened in his anger, were fixed on her in a way that made her tremble.
But it wasn’t from fear. He was very desirable, all fire and smoldering passion.
“You’re in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. An observation.
Bono blinked in surprise. For the first time in a long time, he was rendered speechless. He pictured Gioia in his mind’s eye. He remembered her sweet shyness the first time she kissed him. He thought of the beauty of that day by the river and the hours of conversation they shared. Yes, he was in love with her. But he was not going to tell Creide that and possibly give this woman ammunition to possibly use against them. He decided not to answer her.
“I have yet to agree to your request, and be assured that I will not agree unless it is understood that she will not be sent away.”
Creide chuckled, noticing his reluctance to reply to her statement, reached over to ring the small bell on the table near the settee. Almost instantly two guards came into the room.
“Take him away, back to his room.” She said almost without emotion. Bono’s eyes widened in surprise as the guard started to escort him from the room with a spear at his back. Creide walked up close to him and ran her hand through his black hair. She caressed his cheek and ran a finger slowly across his lips.
You need to understand, Bono”, she said evenly, “that you have no choice. If you don’t help me, you will die. If you don’t help me, Gioia will die. It’s that simple. You are my prisoner, not my guest. But it’s entirely in your hands how you are treated in my home.” He was silent. Creide gestured to the guards and they nudged him out of the room.
Creide smiled to herself. Before she let him go, she would have him in her bed. That, she vowed to herself.
Toodle loo! If I get a chance I will post again this afternoon.
Disclaimer: Fiction (not feeling particularly witty today
)Bono was led to Creide’s rooms and promptly left alone. He couldn’t believe that the many days of traveling brought them to this fortress. He had almost convinced himself that they were getting closer to returning the necklace, closer to returning home. Instead, he was in the middle of a maze --riddles and lies. From the moment that they arrived in this land, they were pawns and were moved accordingly. Even now, he didn’t know who to trust. Why should he trust whatever he’s told now? What proof could these people offer to back their words?
He looked around at the opulent elegance of the Queen’s chambers. He wondered what her story was. What kind of woman was she? He saw the way the guards obeyed and respected her. Even that snake, Fletcher, seemed to have a high regard for her.
He turned as Creide glided into the room. He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her skin was flawless and porcelain white. Her luminous green eyes and rosy hued lips were the only color on her face. Her red hair was swept off her face and loosely pinned atop her head. She smiled seductively at Bono, noticing his appreciation of her physical traits. She slipped the robe off her shoulders and Bono’s eyes followed. Beneath the robe she wore a diaphanous gown of pale blue silk.
"Make yourself comfortable, Bono.” Her voice was smooth as honey. She gestured to the settee across from her as she eased herself onto chaise lounge and tucked her bare feet up and underneath her.
The youthful picture she presented surprised Bono. But then, maybe she was young. Then again, maybe that was how she wanted Bono to see her. Young, naïve, and vulnerable, were traits that inspired men to protect the helpless women, when in truth, it was the men who needed the protection.
Bono sat down and waited for her to begin. Creide looked him over. He was even more striking than last night. His dark hair was almost black and was a sharp contract to the arresting blue of his eyes. He met her gaze with a steady one of his own. His calm confidence was extremely desirable to her. She immediately imagined herself making love with him. For a moment she felt herself become shy and timid. She looked away in a hurry lest he could read her thoughts. She caught herself and quickly snapped out of it and regained control.
****
By the time Andrew walked Gioia back to her room, tears were flowing silently down her cheeks. He noticed this as he was letting her back into her room. He had every intention of leaving her at that point, but her tears tugged at his heart. He wiped away an especially fat tear with his thumb.
“Please don’t. There’s no need for tears. Creide needs Bono to lift an enchantment that she has been under for more years than she cares to remember. She won’t hurt him unless he refuses outright. As for you, she’s not so cruel as to cast you out. Also, I’m here to protect you.”
“She looked at him in disbelief. “Who are you?” It came out sounding like - who the hell are you!!!
Andrew cleared his throat and to his own astonishment, he told her. As he spoke he led her away from her room and out into the gardens. They walked along the fragrant blooms as he opened up to her completely. He told her everything except for his involvement with Aisling. For some reason he did not, or rather, could not bring himself to discuss their strange relationship with Gioia .
Gioia wasn’t expecting such a heartfelt telling of his life. “Was Brynn your only family?” He nodded sullenly. “Wasn’t there anyone that could calm Aine? Explain things to her? Someone to ask for mercy?”
Andrew shook his head. “Aine was past anger. She was hurt and humiliated. No offense, but many women exact revenge based on hurt and humiliation. She was no different. It was a blessing that she banished me for I would’ve killed her for certain.”
Gioia shuddered at the thought. She would like to think that Andrew didn't have it in him, but of course, how well did she know him. “I know you can’t forget what happened to your sister, but what do you have to gain by helping Creide lift her curse? Is it all about revenge?”
Andrew smiled and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “No my sweet. It’s not only about revenge.”
***
Creide took a deep breath and began to tell her story. She knew she had to tell the truth and hold nothing back. Bono seemed like an intelligent man and she couldn’t risk him not wanting to help her. More so, if he refused, she would regret having to kill him.
“A long time ago I was married. My father, who was the King of Connacht, had arranged my betrothal to Marcan. Marcan was a powerful chieftain. He was ruthless and arrogant, and as uncouth as the lowliest serf. He was also much older than I was. Needless to say, I didn’t love him. But that didn’t matter since it was a political marriage only for the joining of our lands. Thankfully, he already had buried a wife who had borne him a son.” She laughed without mirth. “His son was slightly older than I was.”
Bono knew she was trying to sound nonchalant but he could hear the regret in her voice. Trapped in a loveless marriage to an old man who had no use for her other than a political pawn.
“His son had tried to stop the marriage. When he couldn’t he decided that he was going to use it to his advantage.” Creide sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “He made sexual advances toward me. I was repulsed and thwarted his plans by telling his father. Marcan didn’t do much more than laugh, but for the time being, his son stopped his harassment.”
“How long were you married to him?” Bono inquired.
Creide smiled at him. “You are trying to figure out how old I am.”
Bono smiled back shyly.
“I was married to him when I was fifteen. I was so naïve. I thought love could bloom as flowers bloom slowly. Before she died, my mother asked my father to promise her that he would allow me to marry for love. He agreed but decided against it when he met Marcan. He did not want me to lose the chance at a marriage to a good man. He didn’t see the difference between marriage to a good man and a good marriage. Marcan was neither. I was lonely you see. Years of years of loneliness.
Soon after my husband died, a prince from the Isle of Skye came to the High King’s court at the same time that I was there as the High King’s guest. He was handsome and charming. Much like yourself, Bono. In fact, you remind me of him.”
That may be a good or bad thing, Bono thought to himself.
“His name was Cano Mac Garnait. We spent many hours in each other’s company. He made me feel beautiful and adored. He wrote poetry for me. Beautiful poetry.” She paused in remembrance. “We fell in love. However, because we were both there under the hospitality of the High King, I refused to lay with him. Such a fool I was.
Before leaving court, the Prince Cano arranged a meeting with me at the lake for a fortnight hence, in a last attempt to woo me. I was flattered and intrigued. I wanted to be wooed, charmed, and swept off my feet. He gave me a stone, which he said contained his life. It was a custom of his people to offer this charm to prove one’s love and devotion. I was to keep the stone safe until we met again.”
Creide stopped talking and she lowered her eyes. Bono frowned as he noticed a tear slip down over the bridge of her nose, slide to the tip and drop to her hands that were crossed in her lap. He got up and sat down next to her and took her hands in his. She looked up and saw compassion on his face. Who was this man?
“My stepson,” She said with contempt, “found out about the plans.” She was crying freely now. “There was a scuffle---I-I dropped the stone. I never heard from Cano again.”
“Did he…?” Bono couldn’t finish the question. He didn’t have to. Creide nodded.
Bono blew out his breath and stood up. What kind of land was this where a human life could be contained in a stone? He had many questions but did not care to ask them. He did ask one.
“What has this to do with me and Gioia ?”
Creide wiped her tears hastily and stood up. She again was the regal queen, in control.
“Cano Mac Garnait was Aine’s son.”
This explains much. Nothing like pissing off a powerful goddess by killing off her son.
“So – Aine is the one that cursed you?”
Creide nodded. “I see that you are familiar with my plight. Yes, Aine wanted me to live with the guilt so she cursed me so that I could never leave my land. The boundaries are the walls of my dungeon, until I receive poetry that fills me with the same love and emotions that Cano’s poems did.”
Wham! Bono felt the wind knocked out of him. “Why me?”
Creide shrugged. “I was told that you were ideal for this. This has been a very complicated and intricately planned undertaking, Bono. I was not allowed to look to my own people to pen the poem. Also, I was forbidden to invite someone to my kingdom for this specific purpose. Thanks to the map that Andrew created, you walked onto my land of your own free will.”
“Andrew! Andrew created that map?” Bono was outraged. He stood up and started pacing. He was disgusted with himself for trusting the Wareings so completely. “How are the Wareings involved in all this?”
Creide shook her head. “I truly do not know. When Andrew told me that he knew of a way to release me from the enchantment, I was excited and did not ask for details. This was his idea and at no time was I suspicious of his motives or his plans. He had followed through on his promise to me. I cannot explain what he has done to make this happen for me and I never asked. I trust him completely for here you are! Here to help me.”
Bono eyed her for a moment, judging her sincerity. How could she not know of Andrew’s plans? If this were so important to her, why wouldn’t she want to hear the details, to be in control of every aspect of her release? Unless—unless she felt it was hopeless and didn’t want to be involved until there was a reason for her to feel hopeful.
Also, what did Andrew have to gain by all this? Was he not as honest to Creide as she thought? Or was he in love with Creide and was doing it all for love? And still, there was the unanswered question of why was Gioia there with him.
Was her presence there an accident? How far did Creide and Andrew’s reach extend? Did they plan the abduction at the concert! Could it be? Gioia wasn’t supposed to be taken. He alone should’ve found the amulet and transported to this land for this purpose. For some reason, Bono didn’t think that Andrew pulled this off alone.
This was too much for him to analyze, especially since it seemed as if Creide wasn’t going to tell him much more even if she were involved. Andrew was the one that knew the entire story. If anyone was to be considered the threat and the danger, it was he. And he was with Gioia !
“What about Gioia ? Obviously, she does not fit into your plans, but she is wearing the amulet of Leanan Sidhe.”
Creide nodded. “The amulet has to be returned to Aine’s temple. Therefore, Gioia cannot stay here. While you are writing the poem for me, Andrew will accompany Gioia . He will make sure that no harm befalls her.”
Bono exploded. “There is no f*cking way Gioia is going anywhere with Fletcher! She is not leaving here without me.”
Creide smiled calmly at his outburst. He stood before her, completely outraged at her simple statement. His blue eyes, which had darkened in his anger, were fixed on her in a way that made her tremble.
But it wasn’t from fear. He was very desirable, all fire and smoldering passion.
“You’re in love with her.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. An observation.
Bono blinked in surprise. For the first time in a long time, he was rendered speechless. He pictured Gioia in his mind’s eye. He remembered her sweet shyness the first time she kissed him. He thought of the beauty of that day by the river and the hours of conversation they shared. Yes, he was in love with her. But he was not going to tell Creide that and possibly give this woman ammunition to possibly use against them. He decided not to answer her.
“I have yet to agree to your request, and be assured that I will not agree unless it is understood that she will not be sent away.”
Creide chuckled, noticing his reluctance to reply to her statement, reached over to ring the small bell on the table near the settee. Almost instantly two guards came into the room.
“Take him away, back to his room.” She said almost without emotion. Bono’s eyes widened in surprise as the guard started to escort him from the room with a spear at his back. Creide walked up close to him and ran her hand through his black hair. She caressed his cheek and ran a finger slowly across his lips.
You need to understand, Bono”, she said evenly, “that you have no choice. If you don’t help me, you will die. If you don’t help me, Gioia will die. It’s that simple. You are my prisoner, not my guest. But it’s entirely in your hands how you are treated in my home.” He was silent. Creide gestured to the guards and they nudged him out of the room.
Creide smiled to herself. Before she let him go, she would have him in her bed. That, she vowed to herself.
Toodle loo! If I get a chance I will post again this afternoon.
