Chapitre 3:
III.
(par
Helen, ajouté le 22/02/07 10:18)
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A rasping noise woke her. The candles must have been burning for an hour. The door gingerly opened. A shadow entered the room. She could not see it properly, only guess a shape. The shadow was rather tall, broad-shouldered and was wearing a white shirt.
White light briefly played on metal. On a pendant and on a sword. The shadow lifted its arms and planted a long and heavy sword between the mattress and the bed board. The shadow was long and stretched along her side. The shadow stood immobile at the foot of the bed.
She knew what it meant. Everybody did even though it was less and less practiced. If she accepted him the sword was a guardian, he protector of their union. If she refused, he would lay by her side, not touching her, the shadow of the sword like an insurmountable barrier between them.
She sat up and offered him her hand. He approached and sat down on the bed. They kissed. His skin was warmer than she had expected. He was stronger too. He pressed her body against his as if to trap her.
She caressed her hair. It was soft. As if she had always known it. His skin was soft and she could not help but wonder. She had known him all her life. Every inch of his body. He cuddled his head on her shoulder. He could have cried. She swallowed his month again. Hungry and starving. She fell into black. Her eyes could not see anymore. She arched like a wave. She was water. Her limbs ran like a stream around his body. She pressed him closer and became one with her other half.
His head was heavy. She let her finger play with his hair.
‘Stay here, my Lady. For ever.’
She sighted. The light of the moon had disappeared.
‘We will rule my land together. The old ways are not dead. They just wait to live again.’
The candles flickered. She held him tighter. Her time was only beginning.
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