WE #8 TM

The Baron had not stopped talking during our entire excursion through the garden.  His verbose re-telling of last week’s hunt seemed to know no end. The hounds, the horse, the thrown shoe, and the wild boar would find no rest upon his lips for the duration of the summer. We rounded a bend in the path near the reflection pool, and I briefly entertained the idea of drowning myself in it in order to escape the diatribe.

The possibility of dining with my cousins, however, kept my feet firmly planted.

“I’ve been checking horse stocks in Arabia—did you know that the Sultan of Guzal is bringing the sire Aagohra abroad for breeding purposes?” This question, like all the others, was rhetorical. The Baron had a much better time answering himself. “Yes, yes, and I will be in Chestershire when he comes through, with no less than three brood mares. I’ll make a fortune! Well, another fortune, I should say, ha!”

The small gold and red fish within the pool were circling lazily, coming closer to where we stood. I plucked a head of stray grass and tossed the crumbling seed heads into the water, watching them suck the bits into gaping mouths, only to spit them out again, disappointed.

“I will need an entourage, of course, don’t want to show up with less people around me than a heathen Sultan. You’ll come, won’t you Collister?”

The mention of my name caught my wandering attention. “Hm?”

“Come on then, I know you’re shy of the city- God knows why- but I could use your presence.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir… when did you say they were coming?” I brushed my hands off on my trousers, then looked up in his direction. That was when I saw her.

“Over the holiday. You have a fortnight to prepare. What d’you say?”

She was watching a young striped cat play with something in the grass. Her hat shaded her face from the afternoon sun, but the curls of her light auburn hair shone gold and red. Her dainty nose, slightly turned up at the end, was speckled with a light dusting of freckles. Long lashes drifted down to her high cheekbones, which blossomed when she smiled.

“Collister?” The Baron made a turn to see what had distracted me.  Embarrassed for my staring, I attempted to direct him back to our conversation.

“Yes! Of course!...Er, yes, I’ll travel with you to London—”  But I was too late.

“Ah…” He turned back to eye me speculatively, his double chin shaking with his chuckle. “I see the view in the garden is to your liking?”

Beyond redemption for the situation, I plowed forward instead. Might as well get what I could for my hasty promise to venture to London.

“If it’s not too much to ask, who is she?” The Baron turned to look in her direction once more, and I took that opportunity to do the same. She was laughing at the cat now, dangling a twig above it and watching it jump and dance in an effort to grasp it with its paw. Her laughter was full, chiming through the air like the call of some exotic bird. I took note of the delicate wrist that ended at the cuff of her glove, the slender curve of her bare forearm, the paleness of her skin.

“That is my niece, Carolyn of Hull.” He tucked his hands behind his back and studied the scene. “She has recently grown up, I’m afraid. Just last year, she was bothering me for a show pony, pouting about the one I’d given her the year before.”

She rose now from the table that was strewn with cut flowers and brushed off her skirt. I imagined the lines of her figure beneath her clothes. There was no sign of the little girl the Baron spoke of left in those lines.  

“She’ll be joining us, actually.” He cut me a sideways glance, his smile sly.

“Do you mean for dinner tonight? It will be good to meet her, I think, if you would do me the honor of introd—”

“No, no… I mean, yes, of course, she will be dining with us. But what I meant was that she will be coming to London as well. It is time for her to be introduced to London society, and my sister is frothing at the bit to make her coming-out memorable.”

The cat had taken to chasing the swirl of her skirt. Carolyn was laughing and shooing it at the same time. Her hat came off with her twisting, and more of her incandescent curls caught the sun’s rays, and turned to soft flames that framed her face.  She squealed with added mirth, plucking the hat from the gripping claws of the playful feline who caught the ribbon with its nails.

“That should make the trip…interesting. “ I had mumbled this, thinking out loud, but the Baron had heard and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearing his throat.

Her blue eyes flashed as she planted the hat back onto her head, breathless as she stared at her uncle, and then at me. We had interrupted her private play, but she was not sorry for her antics. Breathing heavily, her smile barely faded as she tied the ribbon back beneath her chin.

“Come, let us say hello.” The Baron strolled in her direction, his demeanor one of nonchalance. I, on the other hand, felt my stomach tighten upon our approach. I glanced away from her, as though I were admiring the plants, the late blooms on a cottage rose bush, the shape of the scudding clouds above. Anywhere but back at her.  I was not one to be easily smitten by a pretty face, but there was an air about her that meant more than her handsome looks. Her easy laughter, her sense of playfulness, did more to inspire me than the number of dry setups I had been enduring over the past weeks.

“Carolyn, come here my dear.” The Baron called out to her, and she came, with the cat tripping after her, its tail spiritedly arched behind it. “I have someone here I would like you to meet.”

She came too close, gave a quick curtsy and offered me her hand.

“This is Gabriel Collister, a long-time friend of the family. His seat is in Glaucester County, at Linden Hall. Gabriel, my niece, Carolyn of Hull County, daughter to my dear sister Margarette.”

I took her gloved fingers and pressed my lips to the soft cotton. Our eyes met over her knuckles. Her eyes were more startling up close than I expected. Shards of grey and dark blue made a kaleidoscope of stars in their depths. Her teeth caught her bottom lip, the glistening dark pink pad of flesh that I could not tear my gaze from. She was giggling at me. Much to my horror, I could feel a blush creep up my cheeks.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss,” I mumbled, releasing her hand and averting my eyes from her face. If I were to keep my composure, I would have to stop looking at her, this much was obvious.

“I believe the pleasure is all mine, Mister Collister.” Her voice held a velvety lilt. I chanced looking at her one more time, unable to escape the light that seemed to fill her face. With a heated glance, she turned away from me, and it was as though the sun had dipped behind a cloud. I was left to watch her figure sway away, leading us back up to the manor. She and her uncle were speaking of horses now, leaving me to follow in the wake of this odd spell she had set upon me.

At the top of the knoll, I felt it. The certainty was astounding. With one glance back over her shoulder, with her warm smile, the blush under her freckles, the play of light dancing in her blue eyes, I came to the realization as though lightning had struck me. I had just met my future wife.

Note: Sorry this was so late, but I've had some sort of allergy issues lately. There was more to this, but I decided it rambled too much, and that this ending would have more of an impact. 

Weekly Expressions pic #9

The pic for week #9

WE #8 ~ CK

     "Seventeen more days and you will be King, my son." my father drones on about the inevitable reality of my arranged marriage.
     "Princess Catherine will make a lovely bride, you know!" I roll my eyes. He doesn't seem to understand that i don't love the girl. she may be constantly surrounded by men, but inwardly she's a total snob. Egotistical seems to be her middle name. shouldn't the future King of England have the freedom to choose his own bride?
     "...And then our country will continue to be in good hands after I die."
     "Oh Father, please! Enough of this arranged marriage."
     "Nonsense! you have a bright future awaiting you. how could you not be thrilled at the thought?"
     Oh, I'm thrilled at the thought, alright! About as exciting as having lavatory duty...
     "I really must go. Brushing up on my languages might be a good idea before the guests arrive."
     The King sighs. "Alright," he says. "If you must,"
     Quickly, i retreat to my bed chamber. At last, I can be rid of all this "Princess Catherine" business. I slip my legs up onto a window seat and peer outside. The gray blanket above dominates the sky, casting a gloomy shadow over the world below. I watch as a horse-drawn carriage proceeds gracefully down the path, through the great iron gate, before disappearing into the distance. A knock at the door startles me.
     "Come in,"
     "I'm sorry to disturb you, my lord, but this letter arrived for you just now."
     "Oh, set it on the desk over there, please. Thank you, Charles!"
     I slowly make my way over to the desk. Lying on the smooth surface lies an official looking envelope, marked with a red seal. Careful not to rip the paper, I break the seal before scrolling through the words.

An Invitation:

You are cordially invited to a garden party tomorrow evening

at six o'clock. Elegant dress is required. We dearly hope

you will be able to attend. 

Sincerely,

the Winchesters

     The following evening I found myself dressed in a handsome brown suit, perusing the gardens of Mr. and Mrs.Winchester. I hardly knew a soul, but I committed myself to staying there in an effort to keep my mind off things. As I bent to examine a plump crimson bloom, my eyes caught a glimpse of a lovely feminine form. Completely absorbed in a novel, lovely brown curls swept past her shoulders and a pair of sapphire eyes gently examined the words in front of her. A lilac dress clothed her figure and she sat completely at ease. A rose in her garden. I cautiously approached her. 

     "I hope you don't mind my saying this, but I must say, you are by far the most charming creature in this garden."

     A rosy glow appeared suddenly upon her cheeks and she glanced shyly away. 

     "My thanks to you, Mr..." 

     "Oh....Henry. You can just call me Henry."

     "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Henry. And what brings you to this garden party?" 

     In a fluid motion, I pulled the lovely maiden from her reading place, and we strolled the gardens together. The moonlight illuminated our steps as we conversed for hours about life. And in that moment, it didn't matter that i was arranged to be married to a woman I barely knew. I was the Prince and even if it took me centuries, I would find a way somehow for the two of us to be together.

 

 

WE # 8 MC

 

 

My grandfather was never the same again.

                When she died, a part of him died, too. He no longer laughed, no longer told jokes or stories, no longer danced. He walked around like a zombie, half living, half dead. He went into an eternal haze, a place in between life and death. His face was always downcast, his eyes ever so sad. He never spoke of her again after her passing.

                One day, I happened to get a hold of the thick, brown journal he always kept on the highest shelf in his study. I just wanted to know what my grandmother was like in life. And this is what I found…

********** 

England, April 23, 1876

                I was doing business with my partner over a table when I spotted her a few yards away.

She sat there at the table in the middle of the lawn all by herself. Tea and various snacks were arranged around her, but she picked at them distastefully. A tabby cat sat a few feet away, but she paid it no mind.

                Her light pink dress swayed a little in the slight breeze, the top flap of her flowered hat rising a bit as the wind caught it.

                I don’t know why, but I was mesmerized by her, caught off guard. I had never seen a more beautiful woman in all my life.

                As I watched, her hat lifted off her head and blew away in the wind. She jumped up to catch it, but it fluttered away across the lawn.

                I ran to help her and just as I scooped up the hat, we collided into each other and fell to the ground.

                “I am so sorry, sir,” she hastily apologized, trying to regain her balance to stand up.

                Perhaps it was inappropriate at the time, but I laughed.

                This took her by surprise and she sat there, dumbfounded, confused as to my sudden outburst, watching me. After a moment of this, she finally joined in the laughter.

                I had never heard such beautiful laughter before and the sound made me laugh even more, sending me into a phase of pure bliss.

                When we finally settled down, I stood up and helped her to her feet.

                “Jonathan Truitt,” I introduced myself as I gave the hat back to her.

                “Anne Sweeney.” She reached for the hat with her left hand and I noticed a diamond on her ring finger.

                Trying to figure out a way to ask her about it without being rude, I said, “Mrs. Sweeney?”

                “Oh no, not yet. I’m engaged.”

                “Oh, well congratulations!” My enthusiasm betrayed my heart.

                “Well congratulations would certainly be due if it wasn’t for the man I am engaged to,” she said distastefully.

                Suddenly a man came rushing up to us. He had thick blonde locks and dark brown eyes. I recognized my brother, who I had not seen in many years.

                He stopped short when he saw me. “John.”

                “Edward. What a pleasant surprise,” I said with fake enthusiasm so as not to let Ms. Sweeney catch onto the iciness between us.

                “Darling,” Edward addressed his fiancé, “why don’t you give us a moment?”

                “Of course, dear.” She turned to me and flashed me a smile. “Good day, Mr. Truitt.”

                “Good day, Ms. Sweeney. Don’t let your hat run away again!”

                She laughed and headed back to the table.

                Edward turned to me. “Ah, dear brother…been a while, yes?”

                “Indeed,” I said through gritted teeth. “What brings you to England, may I ask?”

                “Oh, just looking for a new wife…after my last one died. Bloody tragic, really. I believe you knew her.” His mouth turns up slightly at the corners in a cruel smile.

                Of course I knew her. She was my fiancé before he swooned her off her feet and took her for his bride. He said it was my fault because I didn’t keep her attention due to working all the time. We hadn’t spoken since.

                I clear my throat and change the subject. “Beautiful weather, no?”

                “I suppose…but that’s not why I’m here, is it?”

                “I beg your pardon?”

                “I wouldn’t have come to you from across the lawn had I not seen you flirting with my soon-to-be wife.”

                “Flirting?” I said, confused. “Her hat blew away and I retrieved it for her. There was no flirting involved.”

                “So you would have me believe. But you and I both know she’s beautiful. And we know that you are dying for revenge for past faults, no?”

                I was taken aback by the this sudden assertion, but quickly recovered as a plan started formulating in my mind. “Not at all, brother. After all, it was my fault. I worked too much, you said so yourself.”

                “Indeed.” Edward ran a hand through his hair and straightened his brown coat. “Well, you know what goes around comes around. But for you, dear Jonathan, I would highly advise against it. Good day.”

                As he walked away to join his beautiful fiancé, I thought to myself, Oh, I would highly recommend it. And I take it upon myself to see that what came around to me comes back to make its way to you.

 

 

Author's note: I had decided to drop out of WE for a while due to my busy schedule, but one look at this pic (thank you, Beka, lol) and I knew I couldn't skip out on this one. So I have decided that I will "pop" into WE when I can and not give it up completely:)

Weekly Expressions #8 ~TJ

"Perhaps, sonny, we could start you out at five crowns per shift. My lumber industry is in desperate need of buffing young men like yourselves."
Joel tried to hide his blush, "I'd be honored to help fill in the needed labor."
The old businessman stood, relying on his cane as if his life depended on it. "I hope this will be reasonable for you, I know an educated man stooping down to do lower-class work..."
"Not at all," Joel interrupted, "after all, look at me! Does it not seem obvious that the Creator built me to help those who need it with my hands?"
The businessman smiled, "Aye, that it would seem."
The two walked for a moment in the garden, discussing Joel's new career. The businessman looked across the fountain and saw a beautiful woman sitting at a table commonly used for flower arranging, "Ay boy, you see the young lass there?"
Joel chuckled a little bit, "I never miss a chance to glance her way."
The businessman was surprised, "you know that girl?"
"Aye sir, I do. And I don't deny it one bit." Pride busted out of Joel in every way humbly possible.
"Tell me, lad, is she the one?"
"I hope to the dear good Lord it be so."
 The businessman grinned from ear to ear. He truly loved tales of young romance, and insisted that Joel accompany him to his office to tell all about it.
"So lad, start telling me your story!"
Joel was confused at first, "well, where shall I start, sir?"
He barely finished before the old man interrupted, "start with the your young girl!"
"Ah that. You see, her parents moved away to join the mission when I was very young, too young to remember. But luckily her family was chosen as representatives as the mission. They would return and visit sponsoring churches to report on investments."
"...and ask for more." The old man said from experience.
"It's called deputation, good sir."
"Go on."
"Well, their family is not small, so when they came to visit us when I was eight years of age, we needed to prepare a large meal ahead of time. During this time, I began to wonder who was going to visit us. I begged my mother to tell me. She managed to find an old photo of the entire family, and showed me a young girl, not beyond my age, and told me her name was Angela."
The businessman peered out the window to the woman, who was now sitting on a low branch of a tree, writing a letter. "Like her, did you?"
"I must admit, I fell in love at first sight. She was gorgeous as a young one and always was to this day."
"But you said her family worked in the mission?"
"Aye," Joel let out a soft sigh, "her visits were always too short, but worth it. We kept in contact through letters for many years."
The old man winked, "I'll bet you saved every one of them."
Joel smiled, "I did! Not one was lost or misplaced."
"Tell me lad, when did you finally develop upon this puppy love?"
"Not for a few years. When she sent me a letter exclaiming extreme love for me..."
"Wait, so SHE made the proclamation of love?! Come now, man!"
"Forgive me, sir. I was young and stupid."
The old man broke out in rattling laughter, "oh weren't we all at some point?"
"Aye sir. I began to believe it until I noticed a date of April 1st on the letter."
Businessman laughed once again, "ah, she got you, didn't she?"
"...or so she thought, I sent her a letter back of equal affection."
"But it never meant anything?" The man began to lower is face in disappointment.
"Not until two weeks later, I received a letter reminiscing the laugh. ...but also explaining that... she meant it." Joel explained.
"Oh my!"
"Aye. We were both hired at a mission a bit closer to my home than hers. I led the horses and stacked wood to keep the campus warm. She would wash windows, sweep floors. We met every day for mealtimes and employee service."

"Employee service?"
"That's where they hold church for the workers of the mission."
"Every day?"
"Aye."
"Tell me, in relation to our business agreement, did you lead any men during your time there?"
"Why yes, sir. I had the most honorable men I've ever worked with in my life accompanying me in our service."
"I ask because you may be a leading position on the field in our industry." The man received a cup of tea from a servant.
"That is much appreciated, sir." Joel dearly loved tea but denied the servant's offer.
"Keep talking, young man."
"Well sir. A tragic accident happened. I was escorting her back from the employee church service, but it was late and the road was dark. She slipped and fell, spraining her ankle badly."
"Oh no!"
"She was unable to preform her duties, and was sent to live with my parents."
"While you...?"
"...stayed behind. My services were still required."
"I'm sure being separated so abruptly must have been shocking for you." The man was almost leveled to tears.
"Indeed, sir. The following week was much less colorful for me. But I was released from my duties and sent home the next week.
"Due to her injury, she was unable to move much, and was unable to return to her own mission. She stayed with our family. I tended to her while she recovered."
The man nodded in approval, "as a real man should attend to his injured loved one."
"Thank you, sir. But while..."
"Knock it off with the 'sir,' will you? I may be 69 years but I ain't dyin'! So quit it with the 'sir.'"
"Yes sir, Mr...?"
"Call me Mr. Callahan."
"Yes sir, Mr. Callahan. Well anyway, during her recovery, I figured she became extremely homesick and rattled with cabin fever with her injury. So we managed to take her to the Kingdom Theatre. The biggest annual event in the entire region. We saw three shows: The Red Cape, The Nine Whips, and The Silver Lining. The Nine Whips was my favorite, I've seen it twice now."
"That's a good man, treating a lady to a good time. You'll do well in our business with a noble attitude like such."
"I appreciate that sir, thank you."
Callahan referred to the sundial sitting out in the midst of the garden. "I fear I have other duties to attend to before the sun sets. And I don't see a certain young lady out there any more..." He turned to Joel and winked, "...perhaps she searches for you."
Joel stood, "then I shant keep her searching long."

Joel found her sitting on the sofa of the downstairs lounge, reading fantasy of some sort of dragons. "Why Angela, what are you doing here?"
Joel startled her. "I have tea with Mrs. Callahan on Thursdays. The real question is, what are YOU doing here?"
"Well..." Joel put on his joker face he always used whenever he had good news, "I got the job working for Mr. Callahan."
"That's great! But you don't seem excited about it...?" Angela stood and sipped the rest of her tea.
Joel thought that it wasn't worth holding it in any more "Yes! It is the greatest thing that has happened to me since the mission."
Angela rolled her eyes, "the mission? Is that all you think about, work?" She began to walk away.
Joel grabbed her hand and stopped her, "I never said I loved the mission for the work. Not as much as an individual who was working there too."
Angela made a fake surprised face, "oh my! You have stricken my curiosity. You must tell me about this individual sometime."
Joel took both her hands in his, "how about now?"

Weekly Expression #8 ~ BK

Lawrence followed his uncle through the elaborate grounds of the Cole estate. The gardens and fields were spectacular to behold.

“Well, that is everything.” His uncle said as he stopped by a small stone wall that overlooked the hidden lake.

“Surely, Uncle, you could have found better ways to spend your money.”

His uncle sighed. “Sending you away wasn’t enough, was it? Oh, Lawrence.” He paused as he leaned over on his walking stick. “An old lonely man needs something to occupy his mind and time.”

Lawrence tightened his grip on his hat, beginning to crush it. “I am sorry, Uncle. This place...you...reminded me too much of them. I had to leave.”

“I know.”

A solemn silence hung over them as Lawrence's eyes wandered across the garden. A hidden giggle, not too far off caught his attention. he leaned his head to catch a sight.

The sight stole his breath and reason. he stopped over to see her more directly. A young woman sat at a table near the stone fountain. A small cat had run away from her as she pulled up her toes back to the cushion her feet laid on. He assumed the cat had licked her toes to produce such a giggle as what he heard. She was beautiful and he had no idea who she was or why she was in his Uncle’s garden.

His uncle must have seen him staring. He turned around and faced her direction. “Ah, that is Elizabeth Dunes.”

“Not the daughter of old man Dunes?”

“The one and only. He nodded as he spoke.

“But, she is beyond beauty.”

His uncle stifled a laugh. “Is that how they teach you to talk in those boarding schools?”

“No, it’s just how I speak.”

“Hmm, well, she might like that. Her father died three winters ago. She’s very lonely over the hill at the Dune estate. Not as comforting as here. I let her come and spend her days here while her mother is away. Her father left them very well off. Her mother is constantly taking trips to the big city. Not sure why Lizzy doesn’t go with her. But nevertheless, she spends many days here.”

Lawrence nodded as he listened, hardly paying attention. He soaked in the information with just enough focus while still staring at her.

“Go say hello!” His uncle prodded.

Lawrence quickly straightened his back and pulled himself together. “No, it is getting late and I really should unpack my things.”He walked past his uncle who looked up at the sky to see where the sun sat.

It wasn’t late but Lawrence wasn’t ready to speak with her. She was more beautiful than all the women across Europe. He couldn’t just walk up to her and speak with her. He needed a plan.

He tightened the strap on the saddle before mounting, despite his uncle’s insistence.

“Jack is not a good horse to ride, Lawrence! He is far too jumpy in his old age! You want to take Maximous! Now there is a fine riding steed!”

“No, Uncle. I will take Jack. It has been a long time since I last rode. I need to get my balance back before I master Maximous.” His uncle threw his hands in the air as he walked away. Lawrence smiled as he pulled the reins and led Jack out of the stables. Looking over the grounds was far different from this height. He nudged Jack onto the path that would take him beside the hidden garden where Elizabeth now sat, the same as yesterday, reading her book and playing with the cat. He brushed past the fact that yes, he had been spying on her. But how could he resist?

Suddenly Jack became nervous and thrust forward in a gallop. It was hard to think straight as the wild horse sped down the path.

“JACK, STOP!” He yelled over and over again but with no use. The horse wouldn’t stop.

He was going to die!

“HALT!” Instantly and without much warning because Lawrence did not think it would actually work, Jack stopped. And in that instant, Lawrence lost his grip on the reins and was thrown into the air. He managed to cover his face as he flew straight through the bushes. Luckily it slowed his fall. He still landed at her feet with a hard landing.

The world spinned for a moment before stopping at her. Her worried expression as she cradled his head in her lap made him smile. He wasn’t sure why he was smiling. He was hurting all over.

“Oh my dear goodness! Are you alright?” She exclaimed.

“What is all the fuss over here? Lawrence!” His uncle ran as fast as he could despite his bad leg. “My dear boy, what happened? I’ll call the doctor!”

Finally Lawrence was able to shake off the fall. “No, that isn’t necessary. I think I am okay. Help me up, would you?” His uncle offered his hand and slowly they pulled him up. Lawrence held out his hands to stop them from fussing over him too much. He stood on his own and thought about it. After a moment of mentally examining the minor aches and pains he announced, “All is well. Not much harm done. The jacket is ruined but nothing broken.”

Elizabeth smiled and his uncle sighed in relief. “I told you to take Maximous. That is it. Jack is not to be ridden any more!” With that, his uncle stormed off after the servants who were making a fuss over the broken branches strewn across the clean lawn and the loose horse needing to be found.

“My, how you managed a ride and fall like that is beyond me. And without injury no less!” Elizabeth smiled as she sat back down at her seat and replaced her fallen book on the table.

“I hope my disturbance hasn’t made you lose your place.”

“Oh, I have read this too many times. It wouldn’t take me but a minute to find it again. No worries,” She paused for a moment. “I do apologize. We have not been properly introduced and I have quite forgotten your name!”

“So my uncle speaks of me to you?”

“I know a little.”

Lawrence smiled. “My name is Lawrence.”

“My name is Elizabeth.”

“Or Lizzy, as he likes to call you.”

“So he speaks of me as well?” She let out a small giggle.

“Only the good.”

“Then I have no need to fear. So tell me, Lawrence, how long do you plan on staying? I know you travel often.”

“Indeed, I have traveled quite a bit. I am not sure, honestly, I think I might stay a long while.”

She tried to hide her blushing cheeks but failed. Lawrence looked away and smiled. Was this flirting? He had never honestly flirted with a girl before. He had been too focused on his schooling and travel to ever think about women.

“How I wish I could have traveled! Tell me, where all have you gone?”

Lawrence locked his hands together behind his back as he began walking around her in circles, slowly. “I think the better question is not where have I gone but where have I not been?” He winked at her. “I have been to France, Italy, Spain, Greece, Poland, Germany, Africa and even as far east as India!”

“Oh my that is quite a full life you have lived!”

“Indeed.” He nodded in agreement as he thought back through those beautiful countries.

“My only traveling has been through the numerous books I have poured into over the years. Answer me this, Lawrence. Where was the most peaceful place you have visited? For that is where I wish to go!”

Lawrence paced back and forth with pursed lips as he thought back again. Minutes went by when he finally stopped.

“To be quite honest?” She nodded. “Here.” He extended his arms out and moved about in a circle. “This place has been the most peaceful place for me. Even through all my travels, I never stopped missing home. I guess that is why I finally came home. I missed it. Traveling is glorious but the best part about it is that it makes you miss home and makes you grateful for what you have.”

“That is the best part? I want to travel to get away from home. Not to miss it.” She sighed.

“Well, that only happens I guess when you are gone as long as me. So, where all have you been?” He asked as he leaned against a tree and folded his arms.

Her shoulder sank and he realized his question had been the wrong one to ask.
“I have never been outside of Peddlestone.”

“But your mother travels at least as far as London.”

“She does not take me and I do not care to go. She once held a party in our home, then in her drunken stupor accused me of ruining her party. From then on, she only goes away to them. Never holds them in our home. Not that I would want that, mind you. I passionately despise large parties and drinking. In fact, I abhor it.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her anger. “I quite agree with you. Happy parties are all that I ever wish to hold. For birthdays and marriages and so forth. They tend to be happier and gayer than the wild drinking. To be fair, let me rephrase my question. Where is it that you would wish to go?

She didn’t have to think long about her answer.

“France.” She said as she leaned back in a dreamy state.

“France?” He couldn’t help but ask. “With all those stinky frenchies.” He plugged his nose and put on his french accent. She laughed. “Oh,” he waved his hand. “I am just being silly. I love France. Beautiful country. Wonderful people they are.”

“You know, France is just across the street.” He stuck out his thumb and pointed behind him with a coy smile. “Why haven’t you gone before?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Tell me.” He stepped away from the tree, intrigued.

“Well, I am afraid to go alone.”

An idea popped into his head, one of madness and chaos but full of adventure.

“Why don’t we go?” He bounced up, extremely excited.

“Haha what?”

“I am serious. I’ll take you home, you spend the rest of the day packing and making arrangements. I will pick you up first thing in the morning and we will spend a few days in France! Uncle can accompany us as your chaperon, along with me of course.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“You won’t be any safer with us than you are right here in this garden. Come on, don’t tell me you would rather spend the next three days sitting in the same garden reading the same book while playing with the same cat, now do you?”

She hesitated. He jumped forward and held out his hand for her to take.

“Let’s go.” It was all he said. It was simple enough. He prayed and hoped her fear would not keep her here.

She contemplated it for a long while, and he stood there patiently waiting with his hand out for her to take.

She placed her hand in his and smiled.

He couldn’t hold back the large grin that played over his face.

Weekly Expressions Week #8 Joe

     

       She sits there, alone, undaunted by the people surrounding the garden party grounds. Her name was Liza Whitlock, and she was the most beautiful and fairest of all the ladies attending the Desmond's annual garden party, an event that's always anticipated with high expectations. But the Desmonds are not who this story revolves around, but it takes place on their lovely estate, anyways though, Liza. Yes. Liza. She was sitting by herself on this day, most of the women paid her no mind with the exception of the few, who, considered her their dearest friend. The men, on the other hand, would frequent her. One by one, men tried to converse with her, of which ended in her making a remark about something relating to a nicer way of saying,"Buzz off". She was the perfect picture of tact, and hilariously to some's knowledge the men might left the chat a bit wiser, most never got the idea. They were like a child who's parents had told them to do something, coming back again, for they'd already forgotten the so-to-speak "instruction". Why it would happen constantly, I have no blessed notion. It may though be she was waiting for someone else, I mean, if men kept coming up to you with romantic wooing intentions behind their voices, then wouldn't you want them not to be talking with you like that if your lover was almost near.

      So it went on, and on, passing off to them comments like,"My dear Lawrence, as you speak of accomplishments you've done here, I'm fairly impressed that your collar isn't busting at seems from all that bloated puffing going on."

    "Why Miss Whitlock, I'm no such impostor before, I'm merely stating my many achievements", Lawrence huffed."No harm in that!"

    "Well if you say so, but someone's head becomes vastly greater in size than their suit coat, it causes some concern on my part. Especially when it seems it's going to roll off the neck, and thereby that crush me!"

    With that most cordially bid her regards, storming away while'st profanely muttering under their breath things I shan't write down, for fear you'd stop reading. Everything was seeming hopeless, she was thinking, so many blithering imbeciles bothering her.

    "Good gracious!", she thought."Will they ever give up, and deary me, where is Ambrose?! He's supposed to be here by now, Lady Desmond told me he was on the invitation list, and had accepted it happily. Uhhh, at least I'll be partially entertained with this rabble of twits, trying their luck out so it appears. The nerve! If I wasn't a proper lady, I'd give one of them a bloody nose to see what the other's might do. Ha, that'd make them stop coming over, possibly.", she hoped."Oh well."

     She furthered her time by drinking a cup of tea, and delicately took half a bite out of the sandwich on her table. As the tasty sensation of the food and drink rippled through her, the hostesses cat meandered towards her, meowing softly at first. Then a tad louder the next second as if it wasn't heard, almost to say,"Hey, I'm right here, attention please"? Oh she couldn't forget this feline, she began to pet it's furry exterior, as it purred energetically. Out of the corner of the cat's eye, she noticed there was someone behind her looking down, who in the world sneaks behind a girl without any notice.....Ambrose!

    Swiveling 'round in her chair, she faced him and said,"Ambrose, you handsome chap! Never creep on a lady like that, especially if her hand's petting this ferocious beast before us!"

    "The Desmond's cat?", Ambrose questioned."My my, quite the terrifying, carnivorous creature you've happened upon Liza", he said with a wink."Never was there a more monstrous thing, listen now, it let out it's immense roar! Hooo, makes me shiver, I've never been more horrified in my entire life."

    "Oh, Ambrose.", she said as she playfully nudged him in the arm."Shall we join the others in this wonderously marvelous gathering?"

    He put his arm out for her to slip her hand through.Then said with a posh face,"Let's join the merry gathering of high-brows and fanciful folk, shall we?"

   "Let's shall!", she grinned. Off they went, entering the mix of people, but more joyous then they were before they'd come there.

   

Weekly Expression #8 Picture

I had to pick a romantic one. At least, I find this romantic. And my story line is already romantic. haha

Good luck! Hope you all have an easier time with this one than the last few!

Wow, we are already on week 8! Time sure does fly!

Weekly Expressions week #7 ~TJ

Raindrops battered my helmet with a what seemed a thunderous clashing. We had not anticipated such forsaken weather. Perhaps the two thousand souls lying out in the valley of Veraight would still be living if the cold had not overtaken us in the night and shattered our morale.

Warm air crept in as the cold rain fought for it's place in the foul air. Our troops had been well trained, but two thousand against ten thousand, it was a battle we knew we would not survive, and with more and more of us getting ill from the weather, it shattered us... physically and mentally.

It's ironic, the valley of Veraight is rich with the study of Magika and advanced sciences due to the unusual conditions that flourish here. Exotic plants can be grown, chemicals can be tested under harsh conditions, and any adept mage would have more than enough opportunity to multiply his power.

With the kingdoms of Mahngaal and Warwick constantly at war, the valley of Veraight is rather appeasing, for a mage with extensive knowledge of The Arts learned from this place could enhance weapons beyond physical limitation.

This war had lasted three years thus far, and no victories beyond our stalemate to speak of. And with the loss of half of our entire trained force at Veraight, the stalemate might change... for the worse.

Our battle was well planned, well executed, but we couldn't endure the cold of the previous night and fight simultaneously, we knew our enemy had hired master mages of the valley to tamper with the weather to their advantage. We had no such ally...

...except one.

Borromur, an adept mage, accidentally almost killed himself with his own spell. I managed to save him with herbal remedies, and in return he blessed my weapons and skill with all his power, which, wasn't much to him, but it meant everything to me.

As a legionnaire, I was the most trained in ways of war, protection and sabotage than anyone else in the war. I was an archer, a master sharpshooter ephsuz. Borromur had blessed my two-feet short swords with weightlessness, and my bow to respond to my eyes, as it would track whatever I gazed upon. With my training, and blessings, I deemed it selfish of myself to leave these two thousand souls unavenged.

If the enemy lost the services of the mages of Veraight and all their research, perhaps the odds would even out.

I am ready to give my life for that chance. No one else could do better.

But am I enough?


I wandered the valley for four hours before I saw a plant I did not recognize. As a legionnaire, I was trained with the very basics of Magika, but not enough to amount to anything besides a little unhuman speed and faster healing, but I did know my plants. These plants were definitely rich with Magika, which means this is a mage's farm. Mages never farmed in rows or fields, they farmed plants individually where they grow.
Smoke sizzled over the trees of a forest that grew at the foot of a retired volcano. I thought nothing of it; it was a volcano, after all... but the smell of cooking meat followed it. It had to be a campfire, not the sweat of the mountain.
My assumptions proved true. Entire divisions of soldiers had camped in the forest. Most of the men were attending to wounds or repairing armor from their previously won battle. I began to quietly stalk my way around the camp in the forest. I was surprised at the rate I was gaining ground, little did I know that there were patrols all around...
I barely spotted them before they saw me. I ducked under a forage bush and concealed myself. The guards spoke loosely of the mages they had hired. They were planning to assassinate the master wizard and blame it on Mahngaals.
This cannot happen.

I approached the door under the mountain... at least, I think it was the door. It takes only a small spell to cause a door to appear nearly invisible. To my luck, a mage entered the mountain before me, revealing the location of the door.
I continued my trek under the mountain. Surely I was being watched now, one cannot enter the domain of a wizard without his knowledge without a spell. I thought sure I was using enough stealth not to be seen by human eyes, but a pagenn, wizards servant, approached me, "what do you seek, Mahngaal warrior?"
"I wish to seek the council of your master wizard." I lied.
The pagenn laughed, "Nay, for you wish to bestow council, not request. What that may be, I know not. But the wizard shall hear what you have to say. Follow me."
The pagenn led me through some back rooms, I could hear enemy troops talking and laughing in the grand lounges.
"Wait here," the pagenn instructed. I stood at ease in the corner of a small room with very intricate wood working into the walls.
A blue mage appeared in the room. The master wizard wore white, so this blue mage is an assistant wizard. His staff was made of four different woods woven together around a Magika sphere I did not recognize.
"Speak your peace in peace. Leave war to the mountain." He said with a breathless voice.
"I believe the war may enter your holy mountain. I have encountered knowledge of an attempt on your master wizard's life."
"You are diligent in your hearings, soldier of Mahngaal. But do you believe a devious plan such as this would be preformed without the knowledge of the master wizard." His sphere began to glow, "besides, there is no attempt on his life. It was an attempt on yours."
He said no more before he leveled the room with his power.




**author's note: I was ill at the time of this story and could not think clearly at time of composition. My apologies if the story was a little lame lol**

WE #7 TM - The Price

The cost was so high.

The smell of burning flesh wafted over him and he could hear the carrion crows calling already. They smell it too, he thought, and dropped to his knees.

His thick, dented armor had withstood countless attempts upon his life. His sword, Cathula,  had been strong, his bow sure and steady. All that had tried to slay him lay dead now, scattered with the countless other bodies across the battlefield. Not one had been able to find a weakness in his defense. Farmers and townspeople were no match for battle-hardened men.

“Borus!” One of his brothers called out. He looked up, the eye holes in his helmet barely big enough to allow him to see. When he did spy the figure atop the distant knoll, he raised his bow. Darrun raised his spear in response, his white teeth flashing within the dirt covering his face.

I am whole, I survived, we are victorious, their actions spoke across the distance, over a sea of burning, bleeding, moaning corpses. It was good to be alive where so many were dead, to have the honor of serving his commander and taking the river front town for their own. But he had been trained to fight against men, against other soldiers. Not against bakers and smiths and children.

Yes, we are victorious, my friend. Borus looked out over the strewn death surrounding him. A gurgling groan came from a body that lay five feet away. Borus leaned forward and with the tip of his long bow, pried the leather helmet off the head of a dying young  boy. His blonde hair was matted with blood, half his face was crushed, and where his mouth used to be, there was only a mush of teeth and bleeding flesh. Though unconscious, his body was still trying to breath in through the catastrophe that was his face.

Victorious…

He pulled his sword from its scabbard and hefted it above the neck of the fallen boy. In his mind he spoke a word of prayer before he let the blade fall, ending the torment.  He could not have been any older than twelve springs.

…But at what cost?

Weekly Expressions Week #7 Joe

         Dirige nos Deus, noster clangoris, hostium animus erit fundo! Guide us God, is our battle cry, the enemy will be defeated! I am a soldier under the command of the Roman Empire, and vast are our forces. As we march into battle now, bows and arrows, spears and swords, shields guarding us from the oncoming slaughter, we all know what is about to commence. The army who we are at war against, I myself do not know, although I hear tell this rabble is a vicious one, of such those who become their slaves are never heard of again. They're not yet in a javelin's thrusting distance, so it doesn't seem threatening as of this moment. We're armed to the teeth with equipment, that it would be a miracle on their part to vanquish us.

        Hence this moment the other side has arrived! Broad-shouldered, burly, and mangy, these filth of the earth will taste our blades of thunder. I pray only we survive, for you never realize it only could be the day, as you reach this conclusion: your waging in epic warfare could come to an unpleasant ending. SHIFT! They've made their ranks ready, now what of ours? A rider from the opposing army canters forward with a haughty air about him, thinking hopes of triumph are set already. The loathsome worm finally turns beside the front of the lines, shouting certain demands and all other nonsense.

       "I've come only to say that my master, if you agree to the terms of surrender, will be most graciously inclined to let everyone go freely their way", he sneered."So without further delaying, if I do say so myself, give up! Very useless is your predicament, and my lord's a man of his word."

       "Never!", yelled our leader."What right hath you to come to us with your snide remarks, and utter coy phrases. You obviously have no idea what manner of forces you're talking to! The very idea, traipsing over here on your horse, telling us to surrender ourselves over, nonsense!"

      "Well.....", said the man."What should I tell him?" The bloke looked then as if to say,"What next?"

      Our leader, with the swiftest agility I've never seen demonstrated in my life ever, took out his sword and slit the blaggard's throat. Blood began to drench the soldier's armor instantly, leaving the scum "devoid of breath" you might say. With that done, the man who was leading us into this fight lifted a up a mighty shout. So did we all. Our oppressors sent up their battle cry too, and with that being said or yelled, the entire throng charged towards each other. Our side against their side. First the arrows began zipping threw the sky, then landing down on poor souls in the fray. Cries, shrieks of agony could be heard throughout the battlefield, with the constant images of gory disfigured brawlers being mangled up in the onslaught. Catapults chucking giant balls of fire, limbs getting lopped off of bodies everywhere, things were appearing rough for our combatants. That's more like it! But as their's numbers dwindled, the victory was in our hands.

      We had won. After bloodshed, warring, striking down the foe, it was finished. We then started the process of making sure all were dead, 'cause unwanted survivors are annoying to say the least. As champions once again, it was time to return home, but there was one thing I had to do. I knelt down on one knee and prayed. Deo Gratias nam in victoriam! Meaning,"Thanks be to God for the victory!

   

WE #7 ~ CK

     The night was dark and mysterious as a meager assembly of men struggled through the November chill. Time seemed to pass quite slowly as a steep precipice unfolded beneath our mangled boots. Our wearied eyes searched the vicinity for any hopeful signs, but none emerged. In the distance, a shadowy figure enters my visage, floating over the snow with ghost-like progressions. Mere seconds pass and he is within our midst. Our party’s journey is halted, awaiting this stranger’s response. A raspy voice surfaces.

     “what you are searching for lies ahead; but what you are yearning for can not be seen with human eyes.” 
    A long black cape ripples over the earth, and then he is no more. A fellow comrade turns to me.
    “My lord, whatever shall we do?”
    I hesitate, uncertain of my thoughts.
    “We’ll continue on,” I say, and we proceed up the cliff in silence.
    When we arrive at the peak, a dreadful massacre has ravaged the land. Piles of corpses lay splattered in blood, many homes have been diminished to nothing more than shreds. A few lone flames flicker here and there, indication of a fire that has passed. Many of the knights in our company stand with mouths agape, words refusing to come. I fall to my knees and weep. Our sources had informed us that these horrific killers would not be attacking for another week. The journey we had organized was meant to join us with another faction of knights to formulate plans of action. Through blurred vision, I knew that those courageous souls now belonged to the nameless sea of the dead. We were too late. I don’t think any one of us could comprehend the reality before us, nor did any words appear to suffice this appalling scene. Slowly, I arose, surveying the land before me. Stumbling through the crunchy snow, I arrived at a knot-covered tree. Beneath me, my view finally rested upon a tiny purple flower springing up from the soil blanketed in white. In that moment, I realized that the mysterious stranger was right. What we were searching for was the desolation before us, but our hearts yearned for some glimpse of hope. And I suppose that phenomenon could only be uncovered within ourselves, like the sight of life in the midst of winter. Maybe any explanation couldn’t be derived from this attack. Perhaps the damage done could not have been avoided. But I realized, deep within myself, that there was still hope.
    “post tenebras lux,” I whispered, as we started for home.