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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: January 26th, 2015, 6:12 am 
Maia
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(Here's my reply! I'm sorry it's so long, but I got kind of carried away! Anyway, it can make up for all the time that I was gone :hug: I really hope you like it! <333 Of course your reply absolutely doesn't have to be anywhere near this long, lol!)

Bathsheba silently agreed with Tim's comment. The tension aboard the vessel could have been cut with a knife. It certainly didn't create a comfortable atmosphere. If anything, Bathsheba felt more on edge and afraid than she ever had in all her months living on the streets. She had braved homelessness, poverty, near starvation, and had somehow managed to take it all in her stride as a challenge. But this... this was different. Bathsheba had dreamed so long of getting a real chance in life, a chance to turn everything around and make all her plans for the future come true. But now that this chance seemed to have arrived, it was frightening. This was a new world she was trying to make her way in. The bounty hunter Ciaran's earlier words echoed in her mind: “Don’t break your pretty little head about things you do not know anything about, sweet heart. Why don’t you leave that to the people who know how the big bad world works? Some caution might be wise at this point." It made her stomach sink just to remember them. She felt that he was right. She didn't know anything about this world, this life. She had no purpose being on this ship.

She looked up when Tim put his hand on her arm. She was glad that he could not see the pained expression on her face. His question surprised her, even though she should have expected it. In all honesty, she didn't know the answer. Her plans had never really been that detailed. She had been so focused on the idea, so vivid in her mind, of becoming rich again and regaining some status in society, that she hadn't bothered to think through exactly how she might make that happen. And so, when she spoke, there was a slight, uncharacteristic stammer in her tone. "I-I don't know," she replied, linking her arm through Tim's. "I suppose I'll have to think about it." She cringed, knowing that Tim deserved a better answer than that. But it was the best she could manage.

Her grip on Tim's arm tightened. His presence was the only thing that made her feel safe here. Slowly, she glanced around to see what everyone else was up to. The captain and her companion were a little distance away, talking together. The bounty hunter had stalked off somewhere, and the tall man who always looked unhappy had disappeared too. Bathsheba felt a strange pang when she thought of him. She paused and looked back at Tim. "I wonder where all the others are planning on going, and what they mean to do," she wondered aloud. "I don't like the sound of this Lord Eagle person at all. They talked as if he was a very dangerous man, and would not give up pursuit of them easily."

Frozen with shock, Bathsheba stared on as the blind lad struggled with the stable master. She had no idea what to do. She'd never got involved in a fight before. After all, she had been brought up to be a refined young lady who minded her manners. Even if sometimes she would have quite liked to slap someone when she got angry, she would never have dreamed of doing so. The importance of decorum had been impressed upon her with the utmost earnestness. After all, her family had made their money in trade, and were looked down on by the old money families. What they lacked in noble birth, Bathsheba's family had been determined to make up for in style.

"Stop it!" Bathsheba blurted out, her voice sounding high and trembling even though she'd intended it to be authoritative and stern. "Leave him alone!" She had to do something quickly. After all, the young man had defended her. He could have easily slipped away out of sight whilst the stable master was distracted with threatening her. But he hadn't. He'd stayed to help her. With a sudden surge of decisiveness, Bathsheba flung herself forward and pulled Tim away from the stable master. When the man resisted she kicked him hard in the stomach. "Go, run!" she urged Tim whilst the stable master clutched his abdomen in agony. She looked around wildly for some sort of weapon. She sighted Tim's cane and snatched it up, wielding it fiercely as her opponent staggered to his feet. She could see that he was about to make a grab for the pitchfork, but she kicked it away with a clatter.

"I said go!" she shouted at Tim. The adrenaline rush from the fight made her feel brave. Tim was blind; he couldn't defend himself. The protectiveness she felt towards him surprised her, but she didn't question it, the adrenaline rushing through her veins as she faced the stable master, wondering how she would be able to fight him alone.


~~~

Cairbre had given up on trying to talk to Guinevere for now. She had made it perfectly clear that she didn't want to hear a word from him, to even set eyes on him. So he had given her what she wanted, and disappeared. There was a painful, heavy feeling in his chest as he went below deck. He didn't know how long it would be before they made way again, but for now the ship remained relatively still, rocking gently as it sat anchored in the water. It was a relief to be below deck, to be veiled by shadow and alone, instead of standing under the hot sun, watching on as Guinevere and Liam stood close.

But he was not alone. He heard a movement from the far corner, and in the shadows, by some piles of coiled rope, Cairbre recognised Ciaran Archer. The bounty hunter. The man who had served his father, Lord Eagle, and had taken Liam and Guin captive whilst the said lord lay wounded and bleeding. Had Ciaran known just what kind of a man he was dealing with? Even if he had any idea, he could not possibly understand the true vindictiveness of Cathair's nature. It was apparent that Ciaran had abandoned Cathair to near certain death; if he survived, the vengeful lord would certainly add Ciaran to his list of people he wanted dead. A price would be attached to the bounty hunter's head - not as great a price as the one attached to the pirates', but then, they were more important to Cathair.

"Ciaran Archer, you said your name was?" Cairbre spoke up, stepping towards Ciaran. His voice was numb, holding no emotion whatsoever, and the expression on his face was calm and cold. "I wonder what quality my father saw in you that prompted him to employ you. He chooses his servants carefully. Likes to pick out the ones with a ruthless streak." He stood still, his lips twitching upwards in a mirthless smile for one moment. "What deal did you make with Guinevere and Liam?" he asked Ciaran suddenly. Of course, he already knew what kind of bargain he'd have struck with them. He knew Guinevere and the way her mind worked, knew the amount of wealth she had that equipped her to deal out bribes. And knowing Guin the way he did, he also knew that she saw Ciaran as expendable. He was useful whilst they still needed extra pairs of hands to man the ship. But after that, she would want the bounty hunter gone. Ciaran had held the power of life and death over her and Liam's heads, and she resented that. Guinevere would not forget that Ciaran had clamped iron shackles over their wrists, had insulted them, treated them as if they were nothing.

Cairbre sensed that the money was not important to Ciaran - that getting out of England had been something vital to him. The threat Ciaran had made to Guinevere back in the cells when he set them loose had hinted at a kind of hunger. A hunger to get away, to get what he wanted. "It's not gold you want, is it?" he said. "One learns to recognize money lust, and I don't see it in your eyes. So what are you after?" He raised one dark eyebrow, and spoke quieter still, his tone carrying a trace of threat. "If you're hoping our good captain might look favourably upon you for your help, I'm afraid you will be disappointed." He didn't know why he wasn't letting this go, why he was acting so coldly towards this total stranger, but he couldn't help it. He was miserable, he could see no hope for the future. However calm he appeared, there were dark circles under his eyes and he was beginning to look pale and ill. More than that, he felt ill. He had a sharp headache and he felt exhausted, as if he might keel over at any minute, although his stance was as determined and dignified as ever.

~~~

Her face still upturned to the sun, Guinevere listened as Liam informed her of the changes that had occurred in Port Royal since her departure. Even as she felt the sun warm her skin, when she heard of the troubles that afflicted the country she so loved, she felt a cold shiver of dread run along down her spine. She could not bear the thought of the bloodshed that would surely follow. She believed with all her heart that Jamaica and it's people deserved to be free, and that all slavery should be abolished. When she felt Liam's hand rest upon hers, she lowered her head and turned to look at him, her gaze as bright and blue as the sky. Her fingers linked gently through his, her touch softer than silk. "Thank you for telling me," she said quietly. "Now I know that there will be even more trouble ahead than first I thought. And I was expecting a certain amount of trouble anyway." She thought of Gallows Point, the place were so many pirates had met their deaths. She imagined the noose, the waiting crowds, and their roar of triumph as the condemned criminal swung from the gallows.

She took a deep breath and banished such thoughts from her mind. She had come so far, she could not allow herself to give in to fear now. "When we reach Port Royal we will have to hope to pass ourselves off as an honest merchant ship. Although I don't know how we shall do that when we have such a small crew, which will certainly look suspect. But still, we must try. One of you will have to pretend to be the captain when we reach the docks." A female captain would look even more suspicious.

She sighed and carefully pressed her free hand over the top of Liam's, so that his hand sat between hers. She touched him as if she was afraid that he might flinch away from her at any moment. She lowered her eyes and after a few moments let him go, her fingertips brushing his. She turned back to the ship's rail and looked up at the sky again. She was more lovely, more beautiful than any ship's figurehead, her red hair blowing in the breeze, her chin tilted up, her neck like a slender flower stem, her eyelashes thick as she closed her eyes again. She let the sense of freedom flow through her as the sun and sea breeze caressed her skin. She would not allow herself to think about the hangman's noose. Here and now, she was free.

It was a little over a year since she had left Jamaica with Cairbre for England. Lately, she realized just how much she had missed the Caribbean shores. The home they had chosen in Devonshire may well have been situated upon a cliff, looking over the sea, but it hadn't been the same sea as the one she had known for so long. Guinevere found herself wondering if she could really have settled down for life in England, for good, forever. The Caribbean shores would have called her again, despite how much she loved Cairbre, and despite her love for the beauty of the English countryside. The longing to dwell at sea would have come back to her, natural as breathing. But she had blocked those thoughts out, never asking Cairbre if he might want to return to sea one day too. Just as she had tried to block other thoughts out.

Liam had been wrong when he had thought that Guin hadn't been pleased to see him that night he arrived unexpectedly at their house. She hadn't been displeased. She had been afraid. In their time apart, she had tried so hard to put him in the past, to deny her feelings for him. Liam appearing out of the blue had made her confront what she had attempted to ignore. In truth, she had always been scared of her love for him. She had been hesitant to let him see that she was vulnerable. She remembered nights on the Anne Boleyn ship, in the captain's quarters, when she had awoken from nightmares, breathless and fearful - and there he'd been beside her, waking up too and asking her what was wrong. She had never been able to tell him. She'd wanted him to think that she was invincible. Cairbre had been the one she'd confided in about her nightmares and insomnia, because they'd known each other so long, because they knew each other's frailties and fears. Guin hadn't wanted Liam to see her as capable of fear.

Guin opened her eyes. "Liam," she said gently, her gaze turned towards the horizon. "I want you to know... that I've finished with Cairbre. Perhaps you wondered what we talked about, below deck, earlier... you can guess what we talked about. Of course." She pushed her hair back from her shoulders and turned around again to look at Liam. Gradually, she lifted one slender hand, her left hand. She pulled her engagement ring slowly from her ring finger, and the gold band fell into her palm. It was something of a shock to feel the weight of it, to see the mark where it had adorned her finger. She had never believed she would part with this ring. "I can't be with him." She was sure of that. She may have still loved Cairbre, but too much had happened in those months since she had believed him dead. His supposed death had broken her heart; she had nearly died of grief. Now he had come back and all was changed. She could not rebuild the life she had built with him; there was too much anger, resentment, pain, sorrow, guilt - just too much of it. She couldn't bear to spend one minute with him in such pain, yet alone the rest of her life. "I... I will throw this, over the edge of the ship... or I will give it back to Cairbre... and then perhaps you could tell me one thing." She looked into Liam's eyes, the love she felt for him visible on her features. "Tell me that you love me. I love you, Liam. I never should have left you. I never should have been such a coward and broken things off in such a cruel way. I never should have kept so many things hidden from you because I feared you'd think less of me. I should have trusted how I felt about you..." she stopped, and ducked her head, biting her lip. "Good God, listen to me rambling on. But I have to tell you, otherwise I'll run mad. I swear it. We will be these eight or nine weeks at sea and I cannot spend them silent. I'll do as you said, and wait, if that's what you want. But I had to tell you. I love you, Liam." Her eyes blazed with intensity when she looked up again, her expression bright with passion. "I do." No one could have doubted the strength of her feelings. She was giving her love to Liam unafraid and without restraint. What remained to be seen was what he would do about it.

There was one thing she could not say this minute, though: that she still loved Cairbre, would always. It was a part of her nature she couldn't change; it was in her nature to love these two men. She would tell Liam that if he asked her, and would hope that he could handle it, that it would be enough for him for her to have left Cairbre, that she would never go back to him; but for now she wanted that other love unsaid. She was almost trembling with the strength of her emotion for Liam. She burned stronger than any flames. Guinevere did nothing by halves. She wanted to be with Liam. She was not going to let this go, even if he turned her down.

The morning mists and the pale skies of England were in the past. They would always be loved, but she could never go back to them. She could only look to the future.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: February 14th, 2015, 9:37 am 
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[As promised my post! Liam's bit is coming up soon!]

Tim was silent for a moment and thought about what Bathsheba had said about Caithair Eagle. She was worried, although the tremor in her voice that he had detected earlier had now disappeared. This dangerous man was trailing them now at that moment; his intentions for all aboard of this ship were more than unpleasant. What would happen if Bathsheba or he were in his way? He knew what would happen. When he was a boy he had seen what happened to those who aided or protected criminals and traitors. In church, they were taught to be good and devout subjects and punishments and executions served as a deterrent to everyone. This ruthless man had influence and fortune; he could do anything he wanted to do. He would not spare them..

The strong grasp of Bathsheba, who clung to his arm, woke Tim from these dark thoughts. She undoubtedly saw the troubled look on his face. “I know. I’m worried as well,” he explained. Tim let her lean into him, feeling a strong urge to protect her, but could he? When it came down to it, what could he do?

"It seemed that we got more than we bargained for when boarding this ship," Tim finally said. “It might be wise to get off as soon as we can and keep our heads down where we go.” As soon as he said these words, he knew that was near to impossible. It was a laughable idea. Two foreigners in a new town, unmarried, without money or connections. Bathsheba was raised to be a lady, but did she have the skills to find and keep a paid job? And what about him? He would always be the blind fool, to be joked about –probably not even behind his back- and to be blamed whenever something bad happened.

Tim shook his head as if he literally tried to chase away these thoughts. Despair had never brought him anything. He thought about Cairbre Eagle, who had offered to teach him to work on the ship and he felt a sparkle of hope. Tim jumped up, letting go of Bathsheba’s arm and turned to face her.
“Let’s go and find that man, Ciarbre Eagle. He told me he wanted to help out so that we can make ourselves useful.”


-----------


He tasted the bitter taste of blood in his mouth and suddenly the weight of the body under which he was crushed was relieved. Tim rolled over to his side and crawled out of reach from the fists of the stable master. His hands searched the straw covered floor. His cane, where was his cane? Scrambling to his feet as his search proved to be fruitless, Tim made sure his bag was still fastened around his shoulder. He had everything. But why was that girl still standing there? He heard the groans and panting of the man nearby. Tim knew this man; he was like a pit bull, once he bit, he would not let go. The voice of the girl, that echoed through the barn, only added more to his confusion.

His feet were already moving before he'd made a conscious decision. Without any means of coordinating except for where he heard her voice, Tim moved towards the girl, one arm stretched. This could all be a big mistake. He might pay for this later. His hand clasped around Bathsheba's arm and pulled.

"Now is not the time to hang around," he quipped and he pushed Bathsheba in front of him, but still hanged on to her arm so that she could lead his way. "Grab my cane on the way out, will you?"



--------------


Silence. That's what he'd been searching for. Below deck the only noise was the sloshing waves against the hull and the incidental creaking of the ship's frame. Even though the anger and frustration had been soundless above deck, it had been apparent to all. Ciaran just needed to get away from it. He wasn't used to being in such a close proximity of others for such a time and he needed space to think, contemplate and pray.

Soon, however, his hideout was discovered by the brother, who had looked like someone died for days -even before it actually happened. Now he looked like he was on his way out as well.

Ciaran listened with tilted head and a faint smile on his lips to Cairbre's sneers. This posture was a facade, he had created to survive the years and years of taunting and insults. Usually, he wouldn't take the bait, but now he couldn't help himself.

"You think you know me so well, do you? That after a few days you understand enough, like you have watched through a window into my soul?" There was a short silence and Ciaran's piercing dark eyes glared into Cairbre's blue ones. "But let me tell you something, Cairbre Eagle." Ciaran almost spat out these last words. "Your father has enough mindless minions to do his bidding. I was not one of them. Your father and I had a business contract. I don't expect you to understand what it is, since everyone aboard of this ship is either related, involved or out to destroy the other.”

Ciaran took the flask from his belt, taking an eager sip from his water. Couldn't he escape this? All he wanted now was some peace, but that was probably not going to happen in the next few weeks. Cairbre kept provoking him, as if he wanted him to do what? Hit him? Shoot him? Confirming that he was the monster they thought he was -the monster he was? That was not going to happen.

“My motives are none of your business. Anything that the lass agreed to is a private matter. And since your ex-girlfriend didn’t confide in you, I shall neither. But to satisfy your curiosity, I can tell you this: it is neither money or favour that I seek.”

Ciaran looked long and hard at Cairbre and then slowly lifted his arm, to offer him his flask. “Here, drink this. You look as if you might collapse.”

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: February 21st, 2015, 1:35 pm 
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Liam listened to Guinevere's words, to what she said and did not say. He had known Guin for years now and he was convinced that her feelings were genuine- now. But had she not called out for Cairbre in her feverish dreams on that fateful night? Hadn't she accepted the golden ring with the promise to have and to hold Cairbre until the end of her days? And that promise was now undone because she thought Cairbre and Rosalind died and but then he didn't. Her true love was still alive. Liam didn't understand Guinevere. How could such love suddenly vanish? His feelings had been unwavering and unconditional. They always had been..

"I love you, Guin," Liam blurted out, responding to her plead. His hand trailed down her arm to her lower back. His hand rested there for a moment, but then he pushed her near him, so that their hips connected and their faces were only inches away from each other. He felt her tiny frame against his, the frequent heaving of her chest. "I always have. From the moment we met at the docks in Port Royal to the moment I found out that you left and long after." A fire was lit in Liam's dark eyes. His lips met those of Guinevere and he kissed her. It was a powerful kiss, filled with emotion and desire. But as sudden he had kissed her, Liam let go of Guinevere again.

"When you left, you took something of me. A piece of my heart, my home, my living. But still I loved you. I loved you so much that it hurt.." Liam was silent for a moment, looking at Guinevere, taking in her beauty. "It hurt," he repeated. "I tried to take away that pain and I ended up in the filthiest bar in Tortuga. Every day with a bottle in my hand, until I ran out of money, but not out of pain."

Liam turned his back on Guinevere, placing his hands on the rail of the ship and facing the horizon. His knuckles turned white. For a moment he was lost in the memories of the time, he’d tried so hard to forgot. Most memories were quite vague anyway. It were dark days. Days and weeks passed without him even noticing it. He had lived in a sort of bubble where he didn't had to feel or think. He had detached himself from life, not caring about anything, except for that bottle in his hand never to be empty.

"Eventually, I had to work off my debts. I entered the service of the cruellest captain that roamed the seas. They.. We did the most awful things, I am not even going to tell you about. But still I could only think of you. Until Aileen.."

Liam turned to face Guinevere again. It was difficult to decipher the emotions on his face. But within Liam longing, determination, anger and doubt fought for precedence. He sighed deeply.

“I love you Guinevere. But loving you almost destroyed me. So now, I just need some time. I need to be sure that you won’t change your mind. That you won’t leave me.. again.”

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..

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It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.


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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: March 2nd, 2015, 1:41 pm 
Maia
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(Here's my post! =D I wrote it while listening to 'Saving Josh'! I hope you like it <333)

Guinevere released an exhalation of breath when Liam declared his love for her, her heart bursting with joy. She shivered when he touched her, his hand grazing her arm then her lower back, her breathing rapid and unsteady. She longed to go into his arms. But before she could so much as step closer towards him, Liam had suddenly pushed her body against his. Their frames were pressed together, their faces only a breath apart. Guinevere was not able to utter a word, so strong was the fire that Liam lit within her. Her passionate gaze scanned his face before locking onto his eyes, as if she would drown herself in their darkness. The emotion she felt was overwhelming as she listened to his words.

And then... he kissed her. It was a passionate kiss, fervent and all-consuming; Guinevere returned it with the same heated intensity, her arms instantly going up about Liam's neck. As she did so, Cairbre's engagement ring dropped from her hand, but she did not even notice. The gold band rolled away unseen across the deck. Guin's heartbeat pulsed uncontrollably against Liam's chest. Her veins throbbed with her love for him. It came as a shock when he let her go abruptly, so that she was left standing there, her face flushed, her shoulders heaving up and down with the force of her breathing.

She wanted to speak up then, but Liam started talking. He told her how much she had hurt him when she'd left, and everything that had happened to him in the time afterwards. Her blue eyes filled with pain as she listened, guilt striking her with an acute agony. She felt helpless as he spoke on, his back turned on her. Her tears spilled over and trickled down her face, and she lowered her head, ashamed and aching with the knowledge of what she'd put Liam through. She hated herself in those moments. How could she have done that to him? How could she have left him? She raised her head when Liam turned back towards her. She wiped her tears away, watching Liam and taking in what he said next.

"Liam..." she said finally, her voice soft. "Liam... I'm so sorry. For everything, for everything I put you through. Of course, I'll give you time if that's what you need. But I swear to you here and now, I could never leave you, ever again. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you." She moved towards him and very gently took one of his hands, raising it to her lips and planting a soft kiss there. "Please forgive me. I pray that you will forgive me one day for what I did." She wanted to say so much more, but the strength of her emotions left her unable to say all that she wanted to. She hoped that Liam understood.

Gradually, her arms went around him, one hand gently going up to the back of his neck. She tenderly guided him to rest his brow against the softness of her pale neck and shoulders. She stroked his hair soothingly, feeling his breath against her skin. She felt a wave of bliss wash over her to feel him so close to her. She carefully pushed back some of his dark hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I was gone for so long," she whispered. "I stayed on the shores of England, trying to persuade myself that I could forget you. But I never could. You were always in my heart, no matter what. And I'm here now, Liam." She guided his hands to rest on her waist, and she snatched a deep breath before exhaling. "I'm here now."

~~~

Cairbre stared at Ciaran, his brow creased, as the man offered him a drink from his flask of water. He felt a surge of anger that this bounty hunter should dare to show him pity, especially after what he had said about Guinevere not confiding in him. But Cairbre felt as if he indeed would collapse; the burden of all that he felt, all that had happened, weighed heavy on his shoulders. How could he go on like this? He could not carry out his duties aboard this ship as he should, whilst feeling so sick with pain, with loss, with love, with anger. He looked at the flask, realizing that he had not tasted water for days, and realizing the futility of arguing with Ciaran any further. Slowly, he reached out and accepted the offer, taking the flask and draining some liquid, his hand trembling. The coolness of the water felt so good against his dry throat. He handed the flask back to Ciaran and nodded briefly.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I needed that." He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead, which hurt beyond belief. The shaking in his hands was getting worse. He cursed himself for this display of weakness; he was usually so strong. He found himself having to sit down on a barrel. He looked up at Ciaran, exhausted. There was no sign of warmth or possible friendship on Cairbre's features, but there was no hatred visible on them, either. A long time passed before he spoke again.

"I feel that I should say something to you," he said. "I know... that before my sister died, she tried to do you harm." He gestured to the bruises still visible on Ciaran's throat. "Let me apologize on her behalf," he continued tiredly. "She was unwell. She was unwell for a long time before we were both arrested, but imprisonment only made her grow worse. She didn't know what she was doing. The Rosalind you saw, before she died - that wasn't the real her. I know you'll only remember her as the girl who tried to kill you, but I will remember her as my sister, who I loved and tried to protect. Who I could not protect, in the end." He fell silent, lowering his head with fatigue, his gaze falling to the floor.

It was then that he caught sight of a gold gleam. Something strangely familiar. Frowning, he eased himself off of the barrel and stooped to pick it up. The expression on his face immediately altered to one of shock as he held the engagement ring he had given to Guinevere a little over a year ago. Stunned, his hand tightly closed over the ring. He looked up towards top deck, and slowly rose to his feet, shaken and astonished.

~~~

"No," Bathsheba said at once, the moment Cairbre Eagle's name was mentioned. She instantly regretted the desperation of her tone, feeling a blush begin to creep across her face. "No, let's not do that... let's not." She tried hard to sound casual now, but it was no use. "I don't want to feel like we're bothering him," was the only explanation she could come up with for the way she had reacted to Tim's suggestion. She was very glad in that moment that Tim could not see her like this, blushing and feeling so foolish. But even though he couldn't see her, Tim knew her. He knew her so well. The sound of her voice, the phrasing of her words, was enough to tell him that something was wrong. And if he asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't be able to tell him - after all, she hardly knew what was wrong herself. But she owed it to Tim to try and explain what she was feeling.

"Oh, Tim," she said ruefully. "I'm such an idiot. But I feel so... so strange around this man. He's so... he's so tall, and elegant. He makes me feel little and stupid, and useless. And this is an entire nonsense because he doesn't even know that I exist! I was never this way, in society, when I was rich and prosperous. I felt that I had a proper place in the world and a right to hold my head high. But then, I never met a man like him before." She held onto Tim's arm. "Do you think I'm silly? I feel silly." She looked at Tim, waiting anxiously for his response. She so needed his guidance and support. "We'll go and find him if he really has told you that he'll help us. But I know that I won't be able to say a word in his presence without feeling like a fool."

~~~

"I have your cane here with me," Bathsheba said to Tim, handing it to him as they hastily exited the scene together. The young man had hold of her arm, but he was obviously relying on her to lead the way to safety. She pulled Tim along, urging him to run as fast as he could as she led him along a series of alleyways and streets. She was quickly becoming short of breath, not used to having to run this fast. "I don't think he's following us!" she gasped. She collapsed against a wall. "Good Lord! I feel terrible! Come, let's rest a moment... just a moment..." She leaned against the cold bricks and looked at Tim, suddenly curious.

"Why didn't you just run?" she queried him. She pushed her unwashed hair back from her face and thought it all through. "You could have tried to get away by yourself. I know you can't see, so my help is useful to you, but..." She paused. "From the words we exchanged, I thought you didn't like me. I thought you would prefer to take your chances on your own." She felt a smile on her lips as she regarded Tim. She had been mistaken about him. In fact, she liked him. He seemed like a good person, and someone she could get along with. "Well, I'm very grateful that you threw your lot in with me," she continued, sounding cheerful now. "You seem like a decent fellow after all."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: March 15th, 2015, 7:31 pm 
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Tim leaned against the brick wall and tried to catch his breath. He was aware that his hands were shaking and therefore he tightened the grip on his cane so that he would not lose it again. All colour had drained from his face, so that the colour of the dark scarlet liquid that was dripping from his nose and mouth contrasted with his skin even more. The dizziness, Tim felt, soon passed when his heart rate returned to normal, or perhaps he’d just been faint with hunger.

The girl was still there, next to him, talking and Tim glanced in her direction feeling a bit awkward and… annoyed.
“I do not need anyone’s help to walk these streets, thank you very much,” he responded curtly.
So she knew he was blind. That really was a no-brainer. It was the pity in their voices that usually followed this conclusion that he loathed or the hesitation if he could still function like any other human being.

The girl continued talking and something told him from the way she spoke that she didn't belong here. She spoke eloquently and in a polite tone that could mask either affection or resentment.

"Well, I don't know about that," Tim responded to Bathsheba's last remark. "But that man's punches never miss their target and after the trouble I already gave him, he probably wouldn't leave it at that."
Tim paused for a moment to search his bag and revealed something that looked like a worn scarf. Gently he dabbed his nose with the rough fabric to stop the bleeding.

"No, that bully would have called one of the constables and if you are lucky he would only put you away for trespassing on another man's property. Or they would send you to the workhouse. I couldn't let them do that to such a fragile lass like yourself."

He heard tales about the workhouse since he was little. The poor and elderly who had no family left to care of them ended up there. Not only was it a disgrace to end up there, but according to the tales the living conditions were horrible and the regime as harsh as in prison.
From the moment Tim opened his eyes and seeing only darkness, he realised that it would be a struggle to get from one day to the other. But he would pick the harsh life on the streets a thousand times over being sent to the workhouse.

Tim looked at Bathsheba, trying to picture the girl next to him. Some features were always hard to guess, whether she was a blond or brunette for example. But other things were much easier to derive.

"Well, at least that blasted rain stopped. And you should go home," Tim said once more. "Whatever happened to you can't be as bad as being out here alone. Starving to death in the cold."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: March 23rd, 2015, 3:30 pm 
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Bathsheba felt supremely annoyed to hear herself described as a "fragile lass". That was not at all how she wanted to be perceived. She glowered and huddled further into her coat, glimpsing up at the sky, relieved that the rain seemed to have stopped for now. But it was still cold. She was shivering, but she wasn't going to let Tim know that. She was still trying to build up a resistance to the cold. Unfortunately that was proving rather difficult, since she had been brought up in a house that had always been kept warm, protecting her from even the slightest of chills. She slumped against the wall, keeping her hands clenched inside the sleeves of her coat.

It was Tim's next words that really and truly angered her. Once again, he told her that she should go home. He presumed to understand her circumstances, as if he knew anything at all about her! Maybe she had been too quick to decide that she liked him. In fact, right now he was getting on her nerves in an incredibly infuriating way. "Don't you tell me what I should and should not do!" she exclaimed. "You don't know a thing about me or what 'happened' to me!" Her glare deepened and she folded her arms tightly. She was sick of being treated like some silly rich girl who didn't know what she was going. She had officially made up her mind - she would tell Tim about her circumstances, and then perhaps he wouldn't be so sure about keeping on telling her to go home.

"I don't have a home to go back to," Bathsheba muttered. "Not really. Not anymore. My father has lost everything. Our fortune, our business, our house. He now resides in a debtor's prison and it looks like he'll be there forever. We can never pay off his debts. My mother and I were forced to go and live in the tiniest house you ever saw with our aunt, who was absolutely thrilled to see us brought down in the world and never let us forget our reduced circumstances. I got into a fight with her. She told me if I didn't like the way her house was run - ha, she calls that a house! - then I could pack my bags and leave. So I did." She shrugged. "I'll make my own path in the world. I don't need anyone else. I can make my own fortune." She held her chin high and pursed her lips. "Laugh at me if you want, but that's how it's going to be. I'm perfectly fine on my own."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: April 20th, 2015, 6:20 pm 
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Ciaran pulled up the collar of his coat, when Cairbre gestured to the red marks in his neck. It had hurt quite a bit the first few days, but he hadn't said a word about it. "No apologies needed," Ciaran said with a grin. "Lets not spoil the great start we made. You hating my guts and not trusting me and me being the outcast on this ship." Ciaran rolled his eyes and hooked his flask to his belt. "That role has become so comfortable."

Although some of these words were spoken in jest, there was also truth in them. It was the only role he knew how to play. And even though he didn't show it, he was affected by what had happened to Rosalind. Death sometimes had a sickening grip on Ciaran, making it hard to think or breath. It was probably because she was just a girl with her entire life ahead of her. A life that was ripped away from her.

He watched closely how Cairbre's eyes were suddenly fixed on the wooden floorboard and how he picked up something that looked like a ring. From the look on the man's face Ciaran was certain that he had seen the jewellery before.

"Listen," Ciaran said earnestly. "I'm sure your sister was a fine girl. She probably never intended to hurt. I know desperation when I see it. Besides," Ciaran shrugged. "It's not like someone never tried to kill me before."

Far from that.. Even though he had captured or killed law offenders, Ciaran knew that many of his victims had been innocent. There had been fathers, brothers and sons trying to avenge their loved ones, Ciaran never forgot about. They all had the same look in their eyes; a wild look filled with guilt, hatred and despair. He recognised it Cairbre's eyes and it must have been in his own eyes as well.

"What happened to her is not your fault." Ciaran continued quietly. "Blaming yourself will not bring her back. It will only destroy you. "

--------------------


No, let's not do that... let's not. I don't want to feel like we're bothering him.

Tim took a step back towards Bathsheba when she spoke, looking alarmed. He knew his friend all too well to know when she was hiding something. He didn't need his sight to see that the subject of Cairbre Eagle made her feel nervous and uneasy. He could sense her hesitation followed by her eagerness to cover it up.

"Bathsheba," Tim said concerned. A terrible idea arose in his mind, which he hardly dared to believe or express. "Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?"

Pirate or not, and even if he would not make a chance at all against the skilled swordsman, Tim would not hesitate one second to defend Bathsheba's honour.

It were the words that he heard next that caused a weight to drop in his stomach. It felt like crushing down on the hard pavement after a free-fall. Why did it feel like his heart had stopped beating? Why couldn't he say anything sensible in return? Tim had grown to care for Bathsheba like she was his family. But somewhere along the road, without him realising it, his feelings had probably transformed in something else. He had cherished a quiet hope that she would look upon him and see more in him than just a friend.

What a fool he was! How wrong he had been. Tim was filled with an intense self-reproach of how blind he actually was. Of course a girl of Bathsheba's background and potential would never prefer a man like him. Especially when competing with a man like Cairbre, gentleman, adventurer, a man who was able to provide for a woman and could walk the streets without assistance.

Tim tightened his grip on his cane, trying to steady him, while all his hope disappeared from under his feet. He sensed how Bathsheba was looking at him, hoping to be reassured.

"I could never think you to be silly." Tim replied, managing a smile. "Well not since I have actually gotten to know you, anyway. Anyone who fails to see you like I see you is a fool."

------------


Tim was quiet as the girl gave her angry reply. His gaze was fixed on the other side of the alley. If he hadn't been in that accident, if he hadn't lost his sight, an incredible pain would be visible in his eyes. But now there was just his empty stare and a pain that hurt only on the inside. Tim mentally scolded at himself for being so weak and letting this situation upset him. He had to get a grip on himself or he would not make it out here. Kindness was not met with kindness, as he well knows. Help or support from others never came for free, except for charity, even though the rich preferred to give their money to the church.

After Bathsheba's flood of words, there was a short silence. Then Tim coughed and spoke again curtly. "Well, since you will be fine on your own and don't need me anymore, I'm just going now. I need a new place to spend the night since you ruined my last one."

Tim tossed his cane in his right hand, turned his back on Bathsheba and walked away. "I am sorry for insulting you, if I did," he called back over his shoulder. The sound was a bit muffled as he still tried to dab his nose with his scarf. "You'll understand me one day."


---------------


Liam rested his head on Guinevere's shoulder with eyes closed. He listened to her words but he could not reply to them. Although he didn't doubt that they were said in full sincerity, his trust that this promise would last needed to be earned again.

For now, he was distracted by the tight knot inside his chest that had nothing to do with Guinevere, but everything with the memories he had just recaptured. He had vowed never to speak or think of them again, but now he had an uncontrollable feeling of guilt overwhelmed him, that seemed impossible to shake off.

Liam lifted his head and broke with Guinevere's embrace by taking a step back so that their locked hands was their only connection. "Lets go home, Guin. Maybe we can then turn back to how things were before all this and decide how to go on."

He looked at Guinevere, his dark gaze went from her blue eyes, to the freckles on the cheeks, her fiery locks. Everything in her appearance almost breathed her expectation to talk about him, them, Cairbre, so Liam looked away.

His gaze drifted over the empty deck. He spotted Tim and Bathsheba near the helm of the ship but there was no one at the wheel as the anchor was still down. "Guin," Liam said, suddenly concerned. "I think that we lingered here for too long. We need to raise the anchor and set the sails. Use the eastern wind to get more miles between us and..." Liam didn't finish his sentence. It was evident about whom he was talking.

There had been one thing that worked to lift that awful weight from his chest. First Aileen's death, then his search for Guinevere and their escape from the redcoats, now there was a new imminent threat: Caithair Eagle.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: April 22nd, 2015, 7:02 pm 
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Bathsheba stared after Tim as he walked away from her, cane in hand. She hadn't meant for him to leave like this, but it seemed that her angry words had driven him away. All of a sudden, she was filled with the awful feeling that she was about to lose someone who could perhaps have become her friend in time. And to be quite honest, she could really do with a friend: someone to confide in, someone to share her worries and fears, hopes too, with. Bathsheba had never been all alone in the world before, until now. Although she would never admit it, she missed her family. She missed their love and support.

A sense of rising panic overwhelmed her as she realized that Tim was about to walk out of her life once and for all. He may have annoyed her by repeatedly telling her to go home, but she could forgive him for that. Maybe he had just meant it for the best. Making her decision, Bathsheba sprung forwards and ran after Tim. "Don't go!" she called, her voice wobbling. "Don't leave! I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings!" She fell into pace with him and watched him for any sign that he might be able to overlook her angry outburst.

"Look," she gabbled, "perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. You're obviously finding life on the streets tough. So am I! Places to sleep aren't easy to find, and I'm sorry I lost you your last one. But maybe we can help each other." She kept on talking so that he wouldn't be able to interrupt her and tell her to go away. She didn't want to tell him that she needed a friend. Instead, she disguised her need for companionship, hoping that Tim wouldn't catch on and see through her "business plan". "We can help each other find food and shelter. Things will be much easier for us both if we have someone to help us out."


~~~

"I could never think you to be silly. Well not since I have actually gotten to know you, anyway. Anyone who fails to see you like I see you is a fool."

A grateful smile spread across Bathsheba features. Tim's words may not have completely reassured her, but it was still lovely of him to say such a nice thing. "That's so sweet of you, Tim," she said softly. She involuntarily glanced towards the steps leading to below deck. "But I don't think that Cairbre Eagle is a fool. The look in his eyes, it's just... it's just so intelligent." She shrugged her shoulders, wishing that she could describe her feelings more articulately. There was no way she could properly put into words her opinion of this man.

"Imagine, Tim," she continued eagerly, "he's the son of a lord. He was obviously born into an incredibly grand, fine way of life." Bathsheba couldn't help but be enormously impressed by this, since her family had made their fortune in trade. She had always longed to be one of the elite few actually born into wealth. "And yet he left all of that behind! Isn't that proof of an incredible character? Someone determined to go their own way and forge an exciting, daring life." She sighed and fell silent, her shoulders slumping. "That's why I haven't got a chance, why he doesn't even notice me. I'm nothing much, I know that. Besides - you haven't seen the way he looks at our red haired captain." She lowered her voice. "I've seen him look at her as if he absolutely adores her! I wish you could see it!"

~~~

Cairbre held onto the golden ring, a heartbreaking agony visible in his eyes. He kept his back turned to Ciaran, not wanting the other man to see that he was pretty much falling apart. He remembered the exact day he had slipped this ring onto Guinevere's slender finger. He remembered the dreamy look in Guinevere's eyes as she lifted her head to kiss him. What had happened to that era of blissful happiness? Why was there now only this dreadful pain in it's place?

He was silent for a long time, before he realized that Ciaran was talking to him. Moving slowly, his hand shaking, Cairbre tucked the ring into his coat pocket. He did his best to mask the expression on his face before turning around to face the other man. "My sister was a fine girl," he said. His tone of voice sounded blank and stern. He was trying his best to hold himself together as he spoke of Rosalind, who was lost to him forever. "Her life should have turned out so differently. She shouldn't have suffered such a violent, undignified, painful death..." He broke off and clasped his forehead, his eyes clenching shut as his headache grew worse. His shook his head and carried on, his voice becoming more and more strained. "She shouldn't have died when she was still in her twenties, with everything to look forward to. But what is worse still, is that she welcomed it. She welcomed death. She had known so much pain and loss in her life, that she could see nothing to wish for, for herself..."

Rosalind had lived through Cairbre and Guin for years. It had been her greatest wish, to see them happy together, from the very first day Cairbre had introduced her to Guin. But then, that night when they all escaped the prison, she had seen how Guinevere had rejected Cairbre's love. Perhaps that had been the last straw for Rosalind. She had finally realized that she had been relying on them to be her happiness. Before her death, she had apologized to Guinevere for her selfishness. It was likely that she had been referring to her determination to keep Guin and Liam apart. Rosalind had acknowledged her cruelty and possessive jealousy. But there had been no need for her to believe she deserved death - Rosalind had deserved life. Her own life.

"What else can I do, but blame myself?" Cairbre said helplessly. "I should have saved her! I made a promise that I would always look after her. I failed in that promise."

Abruptly, he headed towards the stairs that led up to top deck. He gripped the handrail and stood still. How had his life changed so quickly? Not so long ago, he and Guinevere had been pledged to one another. She was to have been his wife, and he her husband. Now Guin had decided that her future was with Liam. Cairbre could hardly bear to accept it. And yet... he had to accept it.

Cairbre's head began to swim, and his vision blurred. His hand dropped from the handrail, and he finally lost consciousness, collapsing to the floor.

~~~

Guinevere's eyes widened with dismay as Liam stepped back from her. She was terrified of scaring him away, of saying or doing the wrong thing. She knew that she had to earn his trust again. The situation was delicate. She was intensely relieved that he kept hold of her hands; she held onto him in return, linking her fingers through his. Her desire to keep him by her side was so great that she was almost trembling. Guinevere's blue gaze was flooded with both hope and anxiety. She listened intently to what Liam had to say next.

"Lets go home, Guin. Maybe we can then turn back to how things were before all this and decide how to go on."

Her lips widened in a smile, and she nodded in agreement. "Yes. Yes, I want that," she replied, sounding slightly breathless. She wanted it so much: to be back home with Liam, in the warmth of the Caribbean sun. She longed to wake up in his arms again, her red hair and his dark locks mingled together on the pillow. This time around she would tell him that she loved him every single morning. She would let him know that he meant everything to her, that she belonged to him. He would trust that her heart was his.

When Liam looked away, Guin's heart leapt with fear. She followed his gaze towards the helm. "I think that we lingered here for too long. We need to raise the anchor and set the sails. Use the eastern wind to get more miles between us and..."

"Cathair Eagle," Guinevere quietly finished Liam's sentence for him. She knew that he was right; it was necessary that they left as soon as possible. There was no way of knowing if Lord Eagle had set sail in pursuit of them yet. They didn't even know if he had survived his injury; but if he had, then it was certain that he would be after them as soon as possible. They couldn't take any chances. The danger was just too great. And yet, despite all of this, Guin didn't want to have to dart back into her role as captain. She wanted to stay here like this with Liam a little longer. "Very well," she said eventually. "Let's find the others and make all the necessary preparations." She squeezed Liam's hands and then very gradually let him go, entirely unwilling to tear herself away from him.

She strode across the deck and gestured to Tim and Bathsheba, who were locked in conversation together. "We prepare to make way soon," she called to them. She looked for Ciaran and Cairbre, frowning, before heading down the stairs below deck. She was entirely unprepared for the sight that then confronted her: Cairbre lying at the foot of the stairs, unconscious.

"Oh, good God!" she gasped in shock.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: May 18th, 2015, 5:58 pm 
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Tim stopped walking as the girl cried out. It weren't exactly her words that made him stop, but the despair with which they were said. She was hurting and alone. How could he turn her away? He somehow couldn’t help but think of the first month he had to live on the streets. He had thought that he would die. Not only did he have to learn to live on, not being able to go back to his old life, but also without his sight. If only there had been someone by his side then things could have gone a whole lot different.

Did you not learn anything of the past?

It was the part of him that always ensured survival that spoke. The part of him that suppressed his good-hearted nature when he needed to be heartless and mean to others. The part of him that warned him for danger and was the reason he was still alive this day.

“I don’t do partnerships,” Tim said as he stopped and turned to Bathsheba. He leaned with his arms on his cane and glanced in the direction of where he thought Bathsheba was. “Not anymore. I have learnt to rely on only myself out of necessity. I have tried to trust others, hoping it would make things easier but my trust was rewarded by being conned, robbed or worse.”

Tim hesitated for a moment but then quietly continued. “Apparently is very satisfactory to menace a blind guy. It’s a sport for some people. Personally I think it is a bit too easy, but hey there's no accounting for taste.”

There was a long silence. He involuntarily shivered in the early morning air. “So, why should I trust you?”



----------------------


As Bathsheba continued to share her feelings with him, the knot in his chest tightened. Her words about Cairbre's wealth and background left him indignant and the undisguised longing in her voice made him feel afraid, afraid to lose her and to be left alone. Bathsheba had not once attempted to return to her old life, much to Tim’s surprise, even though she had the opportunity to do so. What Tim amazed even more was that she had not left his side, a lad with no prospects or future. What on earth would he do if she would take off with another? Although that night when they had met in that barn seemed ages ago, Tim had not forgotten how hard it was to be alone, how lonely he had been. Would he be able to survive on his own in a strange land? Tim banished that thought, unable to only consider that prospect.

"Well, leaving your family and fortune to pursue a way of life that is punishable by death and that requires sleeping on this bloody ship seems like a perfectly stupid thing to do to me." The words had slipped out before he could help it. But despite the bitter undertone, he meant every word of it. Getting food on the table so his family wouldn’t starve to death had been a struggle every day of his life. His father, brothers and he worked from dawn till dusk except for the holydays. If he could have had wealth and money to provide for his loved ones, he would never give it up for anything in the world.

"I think that other things are proof of character or courage," he added.

There were swift footsteps and then the voice of the Captain. Tim could picture her as a redhead. It matched her voice, her movements, her temper. Tim searched for Bathsheba’s arm and squeezed. “Saved by the captain.”

He then took her arm and followed the captain. “It isn’t her,” he suddenly said. “The captain, whom I wish I could see.”


-----------

Ciaran watched how Cairbre was going in circles. It was like he was looking in the mirror. Despite his calm exterior, the same feelings of pain and guilt were raging inside him. It was festering like a disease, not killing him but consuming him. Even though Ciaran had told Caibre only seconds ago not to let these emotions blind him, but he knew from his own experience that he could not take his own advice to heart. He should have protected them. He should have kept them save. Nothing could relieve his guilt.

Somehow it happened before Ciaran even realised it. One moment Eagle was speaking and the other he was tumbling and falling into unconsciousness. Ciaran kneeled next Cairbre, watching the heaving of his chest and then listened to his shallow breathing. He wasn't in imminent danger. For now.. Only if he stopped falling apart. Ciaran put Cairbre's arm around his shoulder.

“Oh, good God!”

He looked up at Guinevere as he hauled Cairbre to his feet. He wasn't sure how the two men and the captain were connected, but the tension between all of them had been almost tangible. That had seemingly cleared for now, judging by the worried look in the eyes of the redhead.

"Don't worry," Ciaran said, as he slowly ascended the stairs to the top deck. "He is still breathing. Better worry about what crew we have left to manage this ship." The sleeping quarters were situated on the far end of the ship. So he pushed himself past the worried captain, while her beau was standing at a distance. The blonde and the blind lad had also gathered. The former looking rather anxious while the latter seemed to try to make sense of the situation.

"Oh and to answer the question you were all undoubtedly thinking about: I didn't do anything to him."

Ciaran wanted to get away from their prying eyes, so he left them standing there while he muttered under his breath. "Hang on mate."


--------------------

Liam watched how an unconscious Cairbre was brought to the sleeping quarters by Ciaran. Regardless of the current situation in which Cairbre had retrieved his hatred towards him and where he felt more than awkward about Guin's choices, Liam was concerned about Cairbre's state. But he inwardly cursed the man's poor timing. They couldn't miss Cairbre now, as an experienced member of the crew. They had hardly slept a wink since they left port nor would they be able to rest for some time to come.

"Hurry back, Archer!" he called after Ciaran. "You are needed here."

He then tabbed Guin lightly on the shoulder, not sure how she would react on seeing Cairbre in his current state. "Guin," he said softly. "I know what your first instincts are, but you must not give in to them. We need all hands on deck, just for now."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: May 18th, 2015, 9:19 pm 
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"You should trust me because you have no reason to distrust me," Bathsheba mumbled, taken aback and abashed by Tim's response to her suggestion. She honestly felt injured by his indication that she could be out to rob, trick or otherwise harm him. What kind of person did he take her for? If he could see her, then perhaps it would sink in that she was really just a desperate young woman, utterly alone in the world. "Why would I want to 'menace' you or deceive you? I've nothing to gain by doing so. But I've everything to gain by making a real friend." She sounded startlingly shy when she pronounced the last word. The truth was, Bathsheba had never actually made friends with anyone before. Sure, in her past life she'd maintained acquaintances who could serve her well on her ladder to greater fortune and success, and pretended they were friends. But this was her present life now - and it wasn't a game.

"Please," Bathsheba continued humbly. She seemed to grow smaller inside her oversized coat, bowing her head and folding her arms. "I've nothing to offer except my loyalty." Blushing, she hurried on, "besides, you being blind... wouldn't it be useful for you to have someone to look out for you? To make sure you weren't ever menaced or robbed again? I could manage that for you." She looked up and pulled a face, half anxious, half annoyed. "Well! Do say something!"


~~~

Bathsheba stared at Tim, as stunned as if he'd just slapped her in the face. It was as if he'd just marched straight into her daydream and stamped all over it, reckless as to whether or not he hurt her feelings in the process. She had come to life when talking about Cairbre, but now, with Tim disagreeing with her, she felt drained and upset. "You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, feeling baited into retaliating harshly. "I trusted you, telling you how much I like him! Well..." she shrugged her shoulders, pretending that she didn't care, even though Tim couldn't see her doing so, "...don't worry, I shan't tell you anything more again, if you dislike him so much."

She looked around abruptly, only just noticing that the captain had called to them. Bathsheba had no idea that she'd just talked right over Tim's last comment. If she had heard him, then perhaps her mood towards him would have softened. As it was, his words remained unheard and unacknowledged. She held his arm as they followed Guinevere together, but Bathsheba remained pettily slighted.

"Oh, good God!"

Bathsheba stopped behind Guinevere, wondering what had shocked the captain into such an exclamation. She peered over her shoulder, and then she saw. Bathsheba stared at Cairbre's unconscious form in confusion, and her hold on Tim's arm tightened. "Is he dead?" she whispered, oblivious to the effect her words might have on Guinevere.

~~~

"Shut up, shut up!" Guin shouted at Bathsheba, her intense anxiety merging with fury as she pushed past the girl, hurrying to catch up with Ciaran. She span around when she felt a tap on her shoulder; seeing that it was Liam trying to stop her, she relaxed a little, but from the look in her eyes it was obvious that she had already decided what course to take. She shook her head very slightly, a small, stubborn smile forming on her lips despite the despair written on her features.

"We can't make sail without Cairbre here to help us," she replied. "You must realize that. Don't worry, he will be well again soon, and we will raise anchor and leave, but I have to go to him. I have to help him, and make him well again." She paused, then reached out and grabbed Liam's hand. "You're coming with me," she insisted, before pulling him along with her as she broke into a sprint. "Please Liam, I can't do this without you," she gasped between breaths. Wild with worry, she burst into the cabin which Ciaran had allocated to Cairbre.

She squeezed Liam's hand and then rushed over to the bed. She took in the sight of her unconscious ex fiance, tears welling in her eyes. "I told him he should eat something, I told him he should drink something," she said very quietly. "He needed food and water, after God knows how long in that prison cell without either..." As if at the sound of her voice, Cairbre's head turned towards her on the pillow. That one movement was like a knife being thrust into Guinevere's heart, and then twisted round.

She grabbed Ciaran's water flask from him and gently lowered herself onto the bed. Sitting beside Cairbre, she carefully lifted his head onto her lap and pushed back his hair, feeling his forehead, which was damp with sweat. "You must drink, Cairbre," she urged him. "Wake up, and have some water." She looked up and issued an order, "Ciaran, quick, go to the stores and find him something to eat." Her attention swiftly went back to Cairbre. She read his tense expression and saw at once that he'd had a bad headache. She'd known him long enough to read such signs. She massaged his brow with her fingertips, and after a while his face relaxed.

Cairbre's eyes began to flicker beneath his lids, and his lips moved, as if he was trying to say something. Guin waited a few moments for him to wake before tilting his head with the utmost care, then helping him to drink a little water. "You see, you'll be as well as you've always been in no time," she reassured him. Cairbre looked up at her in a mixture of astonishment and relief.

"You're here?" he asked. Only now that he was awake again did Guinevere feel painfully uncomfortable. She found that she was unable to say anything in reply. She could only nod. Cairbre, his head still resting on her lap, was watching her with love in his eyes. But seeing that Guin was uncomfortable, he did his best to hide his devotion and let her help him drink a little more.

Guinevere's gaze went in search Liam, and finding him, she held his eyes and smiled at him, hoping he knew that this changed nothing. Surely he'd be able to see that she'd had no other option but to help Cairbre. Liam didn't need to be jealous or doubtful. As the moments passed, fear sprang up in Guin's heart; what if Liam did read this situation entirely the wrong way? What if he distanced himself even further from her? It was a risk she just couldn't take. She couldn't lose Liam. This was the God's honest truth: if she lost Liam, if he went from her in doubt of her love for him, then her heart would break and never mend.

Cairbre was shifting himself off of her lap now, and beginning to sit up by himself. "I'm sorry for all this," he said, sounding tired but definitely awake. "I'll be able to get back to my duties on deck shortly... I should perhaps eat some food first, so that this doesn't happen again..."

"Yes," Guinevere said, and raised herself from the bed. "You do that, Cairbre. It was just a fainting spell. You'll be all right." With this reassurance, she exited the cabin, leading Liam away with her. She did not see the look of despair clouding over Cairbre's features as he watched her go.

Holding onto Liam's hand, she drew him into a private corner of a different room. It was as if she was waiting to summon the courage to say something, or waiting for him to say something first instead. Words failing her, her eyes brimming with anxiety and love, Guinevere suddenly pulled Liam close and kissed him passionately, her body pressed against his.

After several long moments, she gently pulled back and whispered, "I helped him because I had no other choice. When we set sail, don't watch me with doubtful eyes, wondering where my true affection lies. It lies with you, it's with you." Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, but she let him go, in case he was angry with her. "It's you," she said, her tone touchingly gentle. She took a few steps away, in case Liam would yet again find another reason for them not to be alone together. She knew that they had to get ready to set sail. But she couldn't do that without first having these few minutes alone with Liam to talk things through. "If you reject me again, however politely, I'm not sure I'll have the strength to see the journey to Port Royal through," she said, turning away and leaning against a wall as the ship swayed. She closed her eyes and very, very quietly began to weep, her shoulders shaking. Everything was getting too much for her. She'd had hardly any sleep. She was homesick for Liam. She was overwhelmed with love for him and the need for him to realize that she would not leave him again.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 16th, 2015, 4:06 pm 
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“Stop it, Guinevere,” Liam said firmly. “Stop letting yourself go like this.” If the situation had been different, he would probably have felt for her. But now, he just couldn’t. He placed both his hands on Guin’s shoulders and waited in silence until she stopped sobbing and no more tears were spilt. His hands then slipped off her shoulder and Liam took a step back. There was a tired look in his eyes and his hand clasped his shoulder with the old bullet wound, which played up quite a lot lately.

“I am a man of flesh and blood,” Liam finally said. “You appeal to my heart and you tell our love to be true. I would have given you my heart without second thought even when you choose Cairbre over me.”

But not anymore..

He couldn't say it, but it was true. So much time seemed to have passed since they journeyed together on the Anne Boleyn. They had been free then, free to go wherever they pleased, free to love and be themselves. But things had changed, he had changed. He was no longer the carefree man Guinevere met in the harbour. A heavy burden of what he had done rested on his shoulder and the past months had marked both Guinevere and him with hardship and grief. The sun had disappeared and the shadow had taken them.

Liam looked in Guinevere’s blue eyes, hoping that she would finally accept what he said. When he spoke, his voice was vast and steady. “All the things you do go against everything you told me. That night in Devon you convinced me that it was better if I had never met you. You were about to promise before God that you would love and stay with him forever. But that promise doesn't mean anything now.”

Even though the ship creaked and the waves crashed on the hull, the noise didn't drown Liam’s voice even though he hadn't raised it; the spaces below deck were hardly sound proof. God knew how much Cairbre could hear, but Liam didn't care.

“You wanted to die to be with him, when you thought he was dead. And your first instincts were to nourish him when he became unwell.”

Quickly he raised his hand as if to ward off Guinevere’s protests and he continued.

“That is all right, I understand. You still have feelings for him as well. But be fair now, Guin. Do not ask me to pledge my love for you now, not when I asked you for more time. Not when you have not made up your own mind either. I can no longer play that game.”


-------------------

Tim stared at the ground. With every single word Bathsheba said he felt more shame. He didn’t know why he said what he had, but then he did. He raised his hand, but the girl continued speaking, determined to offer an olive branch; desperate for his friendship.

“Please,” Tim said. “I didn’t meant to- I’m sorry.”

How could he explain this to her? That every partnership started with an olive branch, but at the end he vowed never to do it again. Maybe if she knew what happened before, she would understand.. Perhaps he had to try trusting her, trust her word. A voice told a lot about a person. She had a pleasant voice; a dependable voice.

“All right,” he spoke, his voice clear and without doubt. “You can tag along for now. Under one condition.” Tim’s empty gazed lingered on Bathsheba’s face. “If I tell you to do or not do something, you will listen. I have been around for quite a while here, so I know how things work.”

“Can you do that?”


---------------------


Tim opened his mouth to respond to Bathsheba's sudden outburst but closed it again when he heard the captain call out. For a moment Tim's face clouded, for even though he couldn't see it, he was sure that Bathsheba's worried look followed Cairbre Eagle until he was out of sight. He turned away from her, not willing to take part in her fussing over what could have happened to the English gentleman. He shook his head in disbelief of the organised chaos aboard of the ship. Tim however, having a calm disposition by nature, was not affected by this. It took quite a lot to unsettle him. Perhaps it was because he was eldest of four brothers and a sister that he had learnt on a young age to be responsible.

Footsteps were drawing near. It was a swift pace with the sound of a heavy boot heel on the deck: Ciaran. Tim followed the bounty hunter to the lowest level of the ship where the storage was. There he heard how the man stood still and was probably looking at him.
"What's going on?" Tim asked.

Ciaran watched from the back of the storage cabin how the lad struggled for a bit to climb down the ladder. He took his flask and started to fill it with fresh water from the barrel.

"Trouble in paradise, that is going on." He responded to Tim with a hint of glee in his voice.
As he had walked past them, Ciaran had heard the blonde's desperate cry and noticed the look on Tim's face. Sensing the boy couldn't take a witty comment right now, he quickly clarified his last comment.
"The English gent took a fall and now the captain is worried out of her senses. She has taken a fancy to him." Ciaran grinned as he put the cork back in his flask. "Her companion didn't seem too happy with that. Still, he contained himself, which I must say is very gentleman-like of him."

Tim took in all this information, but was not able to hide his incredulity anymore. "By God!" he exclaimed, "are these professional pirates? Shouldn't they worry about their necks, about being caught? Here I was thinking that pirates were cold hearted criminals, who let nothing stand between them and their target. "

Ciaran continued sniffling through the barrels and wooden crates to find something to eat.
"I think," he said in serious tone, looking up at Tim, "you got them confused with bounty hunters." He laughed. “But yes, their self-interest is astounding. They do not care about others. He laughed again, this time more forced. But his laugh became a cry of surprise as he looked in a crate that stood on top of many others.

"Look at this.." he murmured. He took a package of folded cloth from the crate and opened. A tablet was hidden inside it of a dark brown colour. Ciaran smelled and gestured Tim. "Here, taste this Tim. I have never seen this before but I think I have heard of it." He broke two small pieces from the tablet and put on piece in Tim's hand.

Tim examined what Ciaran had put on the palm of his hand. It felt soft, sticky even. If he wouldn't eat it quickly he was sure it would turn to liquid in his hand. The smell was strange, like something he had never encountered before. Then without hesitation he put it in his mouth, surprised by the bitter and spicy taste. With eyes closed he chewed and taking in first the bitter and then the sweet taste.
"It's heavenly," Tim said.

Ciaran grinned again. "It's food for kings and nobles. I believe it's called chocolate."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 17th, 2015, 9:22 pm 
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Guinevere stared at Liam, stunned into an almost deathlike silence. Her face had drained of all colour, and her eyes were frozen with a fresh sheen of tears. Her lips were parted, as if she would say something, but she appeared entirely unable to speak. When she eventually blinked, tears spilled down her cheeks. She made no attempt to wipe them away; she did not even notice them. Her gaze remained fixed on Liam as his words sunk in. They repeated themselves over to her, and she understood in those moments that there was nothing she could say to Liam that would dissuade him. She stood there as still as a statue, wishing that she could simply step forward into Liam's arms and make things right again.

Very slowly, she turned her head away and closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. There was something heartbreaking about her helplessness. Guin was by nature assertive and strong willed, and it was a humiliation for her to be seen in this way. She wanted to hide herself from Liam, to run as fast as she could and conceal her pain behind a closed door. But for now, she did not allow herself this. Instead, she opened her eyes and looked up at him again. She let him see her grief, even though he would not be moved by it. She let him see her love, despite his assertion that he would not now return it. His rejection did not change her feelings. Nothing ever would.

"Very well," she said quietly. Defeated as she appeared and indeed felt, there was dignity and courage in her soft tone. "If that's the way you want things." There was so much more that she wanted to say, a world of words that she was desperate to let pour forth; explanations, apologies, about her and Liam, her and Cairbre. But she was too tired in her heart and soul to try and fight against Liam's decision. In the end, she took a few steps back and blindly reached for the door.

She struggled with the catch for what seemed like an eternity, before she was able to open the door. Guinevere looked at Liam one last time. Her next words were not an attempt to change his mind, but a reminder of an undeniable truth. "I'll go then," she whispered, "but you and I both know that it'll never be over between us." She tore her gaze away from him and disappeared beyond the door. Once she was out of Liam's view, she started running, to put as much space between them as possible. She clamped one hand over her mouth to silence her choked, painful sobs.

~~~

Cairbre emerged from the room where Guin had tended to him, exhausted in appearance, but with a new determination in his eyes. He could not give in to ill health, not if they were to make the journey to Port Royal. He was only just beginning to recover from a terrible headache, the pain of which had made him unaware of the conversation going on in the next room between Liam and Guin. Now that Cairbre had risen from bed, everyone seemed to have disappeared. He took steady steps, looking for any sign of another person. He was aware that Guin was depending on him for his help on board the ship, and wanted to assure her that whatever else had happened, she could still rely on him.

He tried to ignore his sense of despair, assuring himself that he would be the perfect example of professionalism, and that he would not utter a word that might make Guin uncomfortable. He would not mention his love for her in all the long weeks it took to reach the Caribbean... not once...

And then, all of a sudden, there she was, standing alone, her hands covering her eyes and her shoulders shaking. Without a moment's hesitation, Cairbre went forward to her. "Guin?" he said, very gently. "Guinevere?" She looked up, revealing her tear stained face. Cairbre knew then the cause of her grief. But he felt no relief; he did not see this as a chance to win Guin back. Instead, he felt anger towards Liam for putting Guin into this heartbroken state. He wanted to confront the other man for not taking better care of Guin, and for not realizing how lucky he was for having been the one she chose. But more than that, far more, he wanted to comfort Guin as best he could - Guin, his oldest and best friend, the woman he would never abandon no matter what.

Guinevere clutched her forehead, her face written with unhappiness. She ran her hands over her face, asking herself how on earth she had found herself in this hell. "Cairbre," she wept, overwhelmed with the knowledge of everything that had happened: everything, since the night Liam had turned up in Devonshire. Since the day Cairbre and Rosalind had leapt from the bridge. She searched Cairbre's face, and sensed his deep empathy for her, the empathy that had survived intact despite all the pain she'd inflicted on him.

He opened his arms to her, and she went to him at once, into the warm circle of his arms. He held her silently, stroking her hair as she hid her face against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat was as familiar to her as any beloved song. His scent, his arms, his heartbeat, his hands in her hair - she knew it all. And yet, as always, it felt just like the first time. He still made her skin set ablaze with awareness. Although neither of them said anything, Guin knew that Cairbre felt it too. But this was not the time to speak of it. They held each other, knowing that although Guin had left Cairbre, that this, too, would never be over.

"It'll be alright," Cairbre murmured. "I promise."

There was a long pause, before Guin whispered against his shirt, which was now damp with her tears, "how can it be, though? How can it ever be alright?"

There was no answer to that question. Instead, Cairbre said, "we'll reach Port Royal. For that, we need our strength. You're the strongest person I know, Guinevere. You won't fail. And I'll be here beside you. I swear it. We'll reach those blue shores you miss so much. And it will be alright. I swear it."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: June 30th, 2015, 6:23 pm 
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Liam took a large gulp from the bottle in his hand while he let the sound of the loud chattering around him sink in. He had missed being among people, or rather among people who did not stare at him as if he was a pariah. But this was Lisbon, gate to the Slave Coast and the Ottoman Empire, so the public was diverse, its inhabitants used to lively bustle of sailors, merchants, slaves and slave traders on the streets and near the port.

It had been a week since Cairbre fell unconscious and he had fought with Guinevere. Back then he wouldn’t have called it a fight. He had just tried to make Guinevere understand him, but she had taken it the wrong way. They hadn’t discussed it since; they hadn’t discussed any personal matter since then. He had wanted to. Liam truly wanted to believe that Guinevere had made up her mind and chosen him and only him, like he had longed for so long. But whenever he was looking for such clues, it seemed like Guin and Cairbre were closer again. Her coldness towards him seemed to have faded and was replaced with friendliness. The tone in their conversations was normal instead of the forced politeness of before. And Liam wondered if his eyes started to play tricks on him or that Cairbre’s glances at him were fouler and more vindictive. How could things be set right when it was obvious he was right?

So when they had managed to dock the ship at a secure place where no questions were asked –which included bribing at least three persons-, Liam left for town. It was a relief to be really on his own for a moment. But as he stared at the crowd and felt the liquor burn in his throat he remembered how hard he had tried to find Guinevere and how much he needed her then. Now everything was complicated. It seemed impossible to go back to thing the way they were,

Irrational laughter bubbled up in his chest. Liam knew that if he would take another sip and another, all his cares would disappear. How he longed for this oblivion in which he did not have to worry about the past or tomorrow. Liam pushed the bottle away, as if it had burnt him. His fingertips brushed his temple and when he got up he felt light-headed for a moment. This was enough. He had drawn a line back then, which he vowed never to cross again.
Liam threw a few coins on the table and marched to the door. He blinked to let his eyes get used to the sharp light. A smile was on his face, even though he didn’t know why. As he was to leave for the harbour, Liam suddenly stopped, his way blocked by woman with fiery hair. Guinevere.

-----------------------------------------------------

Tim stood at the ship’s railing, staring at the quay and the docks. This harbour couldn’t be more different than the place where he’d lived. In one way he was oblivious to crowd and colours of this foreign city, but on the other hand he wasn’t. The air was hot and a strong wind brought him the scent of spices, heat and a whiff of tobacco. It was a new world, a new start.

His hand brushed the wooden rail absent-mindedly as he walked past it, his gaze focused on the shore. In the distance he heard loud voices. The foreign language sounded exotic, like a song in a shout but filled with passion and life. Tim felt a strange yearning, like he hadn’t felt in a long time, to go ashore and let himself be swept away by adventure and a new way of life. But when some of the others had left for the city, he had not joined them. He felt taken aback himself, by his own incapability. The words he had spoken to Bathsheba such a long time ago rung in his ears: I have been around for quite a while here, so I know how things work.
That wasn’t true here. He did not know this city. He couldn’t navigate its streets or ask someone for directions. The truth was that if he were to go ashore he would get utterly lost and not find his way back to the ship in time. And it was his pride that prevented him from asking for a chaperone.

So he turned his back in the shore and he found a good spot on the upper deck and sank down against the sideboard. The sun on his face made his eye lids heavy and it didn’t take long for exhaustion to wash over him. He had taken the night shift with Ciaran, so he had been standing on his feet for almost thirty hours. At first he had felt ridiculous for being unable to contribute to anything that the night watch was meant to do. It was only later he realised that it was not him doing the service, but that it was a service to him. Functioning as any other member of the crew gave him strength and confidence. Just like Cairbre’s lessons, which taught him he was pretty good knots. Perhaps not that strange as he had worked in a ropery since he was a lad. But now.. Tim just wanted to close his eyes and slowly he dozed off..

Tim woke with a start. His dream had been so real, so vivid, that it took him a few moments to realise where he was. The sun was still hot on his face and shone from the same angle, so he couldn’t have slept that long. Still, he felt different. Perhaps his sleep had been reinvigorating or had he mulled over his earlier thoughts while he slept. With every step towards the gangplank, he felt more certain, more inquisitive braver.

He didn’t need anyone. And with that thought, he left for the city.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 3rd, 2015, 1:50 pm 
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Guinevere had no idea how long she had been wandering around the city. There was a sense of purpose in her stride, but in reality she wasn't actually going anywhere. She was simply taking some time alone, to be with her own thoughts. Running a ship was an exhausting business, especially when one's crew was so stretched for numbers. Guinevere had considered the possibility of recruiting more crew members whilst here, but that was always a dangerous undertaking. Sailing was a matter of trust; if you didn't trust or know those under your command you were doomed. Many a captain had found that out too late, and Guinevere did not intend to be one of them. The situation was precarious enough already; there was no telling when Lord Eagle might catch up with them. If he had survived his injury, then it was certain that he would not stop until he had tracked them down.

The impending threat never left Guin's mind. She had an uneasy feeling that time might be short for her. What was worse, she felt that she was wasting that time. She had not uttered one word of importance to Liam since the day of their confrontation. She had given him all the space he could possibly have wanted. And yet, often on deck she was aware of his gaze on her, as if he was looking for signs of something; she saw the way he observed her and Cairbre together too. It was clear that Liam saw their rekindled friendship as an ill omen, as proof that he had been right all along. Guinevere felt as if there was nothing she could do right in Liam's eyes. She was more than frustrated; she felt angry, pushed away and condemned.

And she missed him. She missed the way they had once laughed together, had fun, come to life in each other's company. Guin walked the bustling streets, wishing again that things could go back to the way they used to be. She was heading in the direction of a nearby tavern, even though she had no intention of going inside. She just wanted to keep walking, keep moving along; if her feet were moving, then it made her feel as if her life wasn't at a complete standstill.

Then, just as she reached the open door, she found herself nearly colliding into none other than Liam himself. She grabbed onto the door frame to steady herself, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Flustered, she raised her eyes to meet his, although it was the last thing she wanted to do. It was then that she saw that something was wrong with him. There was an odd look in his eyes, a strange expression on his face. Guin frowned and let go of the door frame. "You've been drinking," she finally said. She couldn't help feeling furious towards him. He had resorted to trying to drink his troubles away instead of actually talking to her about their issues. But she was not devoid of empathy; far from it. She was only angry because she felt so much for him.

"We'd better go back to the ship," she said quietly. "You can go to your cabin and try and sleep it off until morning." She reached out and gently took hold of his wrist. She didn't know what else to say to him, how to be around him. She kept remembering everything he had said to her. It was her belief that he no longer wanted to be with her, and so she had taken him at his word and left him alone. "Come on, Liam... let's go."

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 16th, 2015, 5:12 pm 
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Tim's heart raced in his chest as he walked the crowded street. He managed to stay clear of any obstacles in his way and only now and then he got pushed out of the way. Now he was walking there he actually realised how nervous he was about being out here on his own. The palms of his hands were sweaty, but still he carefully swept his cane from left to right, determined not to trip once.

Now he was surrounded by people, Tim realised that not one but several different languages were spoken. He heard round tones and words that flowed into sentences like a song, a tragic one. The other sounded sharper and harsher, almost like an argument. Tim doubted they understood English here and decided against testing that theory.

Soon, however the street became less crowded, the smell of spices and fruit had faded so there was no trading going and the sound of sloshing water to his right was further away. That meant he was going further into the city, even though he was not heading towards its centre. That could either be a good or a bad thing. Walking to a quieter part of could mean fancier houses and perhaps an idyllic view over fields and vineyards. But quiet could also be dangerous. The pickpockets and strays lived out in the open surrounded by people, but in the shadows lurked those with more darker intentions.

The forewarnings that echoed in his mind however were suppressed by another thought. He could do this on his own. He couldn't keep on hiding. Tim kept moving forward, that he promised himself with or without Bathsheba.


------------------------------------


Liam stared at Guinevere for a moment as she appeared in front of him. She looked angry- again. But Liam didn't seem to be bothered by that. A smile played on his lips and when Guinevere took measure of him, he stared back. He looked her at her blue eyes, her freckled cheeks, her lips which were now pressed in a straight line. She looked kinder with a smile, he had told her once. Now she looked tough and unbreakable.

He quickly pulled his wrist free when Guinevere accused him of being drunk. "I am not and never have been since.. since then," Liam scolded. Had he not taken any rum, he would probably be hurt by her error of judgement and her suspicion that after everything he would risk losing himself. But the alcohol in his system had broken down the boundaries that first existed. He felt warm inside, like there was a blazing fire in his chest, that made him feel more relaxed than he had been in a long time.

He took a step closer to her so that the space between them became smaller. Liam slowly put up his hand to brush her red locks behind her ear. "I know you are angry with me Guin," he breathed. As he lowered his hand he brushed over her arm before it dropped to his side. "Don't be. Lets just stop being angry. Nothing good comes from that."

He thought about Guin and Cairbre and what Rosalind had said about them. The girl never knew what the effects of these words had on him. Neither did Guin. Perhaps he had to stop being angry as well, but could he let go now these seeds of doubt had been planted?

Liam's dark eyes skimmed Guin's face, not sure if his words or his close proximity unsettled her. Would he take another step closer, their faces and lips would surely meet. Within him emotions battled for precedence, but his longing to close the space between them won from his reason and doubt.
He took another step and wrapped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer. He wondered if she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. His finger found strands of loose hair. And their lips met.

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 Post subject: Re: One Good Reason (Private RP)
PostPosted: July 18th, 2015, 1:19 pm 
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This was exactly what you always wanted, Bathsheba told herself, to see new places, to have adventures. But so far, she had not enjoyed one minute of her time exploring this place. She felt alone, and confused. She didn't understand anything anyone said here, and she felt small and insignificant amongst the the crowds. And so, seeking solitude, she had hurried on until the crowds gradually melted away. She kept her head down, feeling sick and panicked. This is your own fault for being so stupid and conceited. You told yourself that you were special, that you deserved grand and wonderful things. All you got was a life of thievery and desperation. No one wants you aboard that ship. You should just disappear. None of them would even notice.

Bathsheba stopped in her tracks and abruptly burst into tears. Maybe she should have just swallowed her pride and stayed home with her mother and her aunt. But then... if she had done that, she would never have met Tim. Tim, who she kept mistreating with her outbursts of irritation. Why should he want to be friends with someone like her? She fiercely wiped at her eyes, even though there was no one around to see her cry. Bathsheba hated crying even when alone. I've nothing to offer anyone. Nothing.

Bathsheba sniffed hard, and then gave a start as she remembered something. Quickly, she stuck her hand inside her coat pocket and pulled out the pearl bracelet she'd stolen back in England. She'd quite forgotten about it until now. A piece of jewellery like this was worth quite an amount of money. She'd promised Tim that they could have a better life. Looking at things from this gloomy view, a better life seemed impossible. She couldn't make their fortune for them. But she could give Tim the bracelet, so that it could provide him with something to live on for a time. And then... she would disappear from his life. She would quit spoiling everything for him.

Suddenly, she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. She twisted around and tried to shrug it off, but the grip was too strong. "Let go of me!" she yelled. But her attacker was making a grab for the pearl bracelet. Bathsheba hung onto it with all her might. "That's not yours! Go away!"

~~~

Guinevere hesitated when Liam took a step closer towards her. She watched him raise his hand and push back her hair behind her ear. At his touch, she felt herself take a sudden snatch of breath. Her heart was pounding so hard that it was almost painful. She looked up at Liam in confusion as he touched her arm and spoke to her. The memory of his rejection of her was still completely vivid in her mind. She had told herself, again and again, that he didn't want to be with her. That he would never forgive her or trust her. To have him here, so close to her, and so warm in his manner, was pure torture. She couldn't pretend that she didn't love him.

Liam's eyes moved over her face, and he moved closer, his arm going about her waist and softly pulling her towards him. Guin was intensely aware of his body against hers, the fast beat of his heart through his shirt, his lips only a moment away from hers. She met his kiss without hesitation, her arms going up around his neck. She didn't care that they stood at the open door of a busy tavern; the rest of the world had disappeared. She felt as if she had been parted from him for an eternity. It was overwhelming to feel this rush of blissful happiness. The thought of him leaving her side again was unbearable.

It was this thought which made her press her hand against his chest and pull gently back, even though she wanted their kiss to carry on forever. Her eyes dropped for a moment, before she raised them to meet his. There was a look of anguish on her face. "Don't do this unless you're absolutely sure," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I couldn't bear it if you changed your mind tomorrow, or the next day, or the next. Liam... I understand what it must have felt like for you when I left. Because it's what I feel." She took his hands and moved away from the door so that they could have more privacy. There was a tremble in her fingers; she was literally shaking with longing. "Leaving you was the worst thing I ever did. I just want you to believe me when I tell you what it will never, ever happen again. Please." She paused and reached up to touch his face. "It's me. Your Guin." Her voice broke slightly. "You know when I'm telling the truth."

_________________
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~~Siggy by Lembas~~


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