Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Twenty

5 years ago

The first snow of the year fell through calm skies, lighting down to earth to settle like a cloud on the frozen ground. The whole town seemed to be coated in silence as the soft white blanket muffled the lives of soldiers and Aésads alike. From the window, Jayde watched the snow fall thick across the ground and felt a familiar urge rise in her chest. It didn't matter how old she was or how many years the Empire had stamped the joy from her life; the pure new snow had a magnetic pull on her. Winter brought hardship, death. She knew this with her entire being, having watched her neighbors collapse in the fields beside her each winter. And yet when the first snow fell, her muscles still tensed with the urge to run outside into the crisp air, to dance through the deepening snow and collapse into a fluffy bank, letting the strange, cold substance hold her.

Since the Empire's occupation, the first snow also meant that the soldiers would retreat into their barracks, and there would be no work for any villager whether they wanted the rations or not. Jayde had given many of her tokens away to families around her so they could have a stock of food before winter hit in full, and she hoped that today would be a day of rest for them, rather than a day of hunger.

Jayde tensed as an arm slipped across her waist, but she quickly looked up to see Luc leaning into her. It could be so hard to relax now, even in his presence. She wanted to be open and loving and free when she was with him, but the thought of Aragon followed her everywhere. Breathing deeply, she let her shoulders drop and she pressed herself against Luc, delighting in his warmth, the safety of his arms.

"Do you want to go out?" Luc kissed her hair and she turned quickly, unable to hide the smile that came to her lips.

"Can we?"

"The soldiers won't bother us today. And we'll take the path near the hill; it will be safe." He kissed her again, his lips cool against hers, before pulling away to find warm clothing for them both. The smile stayed on her lips as she gather a couple of blankets that they could wrap around themselves on their walk. Luther was sitting near the fire and he handed her one from the chair near him.

"Will you talk to him?" His voice was only a whisper, but Jayde glanced sharply over to where Luc was occupied, the smile falling from her face.

"Luther, don't do this."

"He has a right to know."

"It's my right alone." She pulled the blanket from him but he held onto the other edge for a long moment. And then the flush of shame nearly overwhelmed her, and she saw the look of pity in Luther's eyes as she finally managed to tug the blanket from his grip. It isn't your fault, said his eyes, but Luther said nothing, and she wondered if he was beginning to doubt that in the same way she did.

A heavy cloak draped around her shoulders, and Jayde took a moment to compose herself before turning to Luc. It was cruel, too cruel, for every action he took to remind her of someone else. How was that, when she had known him longer than anyone? She followed him out the door and into the snow, which had already built a knee-high drift against the door. She tucked her arm through Luc's and leaned close to him, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of new snow, woodsmoke, spruce trees, Luc. In truth, she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him everything. But each time that Aragon came for her the truth became harder to bear, and she felt a little smaller. He had kept her late yesterday, and Luther had seen the soldiers that escorted her to the marketplace to receive her rations. She thought from the look in his eyes that he would kill them, and for the split second that the look was turned on her, she wanted to die as well. But he knew as well as she did that it was hopeless.

So she had confessed to Luther as she always seemed to, of how the soldiers came for her in the fields every week, of how Aragon kept her for hours and then sent her back for her rations when he was done, a few extra tokens heavy in her pocket. And when she spoke of him, she didn't cry, even as she felt the want from the depths of her heart. She didn't cry much anymore. And she didn't try to hide from the soldiers, who had become accustomed to her and even friendly, bringing her food or wrapping a cloak around her before they delivered her to her fate.