Hade's Rose

Chapter 18: "I'm taking you home."

Rocking, gentle rocking as if on a boat or in a carriage. The blurry face of a woman I half-recognised stared down at me, holding my hand. Breeda? B... something. My breath laboured heavily. It was difficult to breathe clearly; my lungs felt like they were full of fluid. The light from a lantern hanging on a hook near the door hurt my eyes, so I closed them and fell back asleep.

- & -

I woke again to the sound of a window being pulled open. Cold, bitter air blew against my face, causing a moan to leave my lips and my eyes to blearily open. My surroundings made no sense; I wasn't in the loft? A loft... when was I there?

I lay in a swaddle of furs and blankets inside of what seemed to be a luxurious carriage; the seats across from me were upholstered in a rich red fabric with a golden trim and I was laying down across the seats on the opposite side. The familiar woman from earlier was near me, leaning out of the window above the door and whispering to someone outside. I must have made a sound, because she stopped to look down at me before gasping at my semi-awake state.

"Rose?" she tentatively asked, placing one hand across my sweaty forehead.

I'm Rose. How does she know I'm Rose?

"I haven't written to my parents," I mumbled, "They'll be worried." My eyes seemed to roll around in my head without my control.

Despite being in a carriage, we were at a standstill. Through the walls, I thought I could hear the shuffling of people stomping their feet, talking in low voices and the occasional growl and whine of dogs. The open window not only let in fresh air but offered a sneak peek into a dark, yet moonlit night.

"They will be told you're ok. Go back to sleep Rose," the lovely but worried looking old lady spoke to me.

"He'll be worried too," I continued, my voice sounding muffled and slurred, "I don't want him to worry."

"He's on his way Rose."

I sighed, comforted by the thought. "Good, good," I mumbled, closing my eyes and relaxing back into my pillows. Soft bristles from my blankets weighed upon my limbs like a comforting shawl, whilst the night air juxtaposed with the cosy heat.

A cool cloth was placed on my brow and I snuggled back into my bed of blankets. Yet, I seemed unable to drift off into oblivion. There was a strange kind of tension in my belly, like a sensation of butterflies and nerves.

"Attention," growled a command from outside my little room, causing the woman near me to jump in alarm, "All kneel."

My female companion got out of the carriage. I could hear the sharp swish of the door being opened and warm air escaping. Frowning at the brief discomfort, I nestled more solidly back into my cocoon with a little snort.

Some time passed, more whispered conversations and a few loud orders could be heard. I murmured in protest at the disturbance, wanting the window to be closed as I assumed this is what was keeping me from rest.

The door opened again; I felt a fresh gully of chilled, nightly breeze on my face and I weakly tossed my head to the side though my eyes remained closed. However, the wind brought with it a strong smell of butterscotch. It was a warm, divine scent, comforting and familiar. My nose flared at the welcoming scent, feeling some of my inertia fade.

Whoever the woman was from before sat beside me, a surprisingly sturdy weight that caused whatever stool she sat down upon to groan in protest. I tossed my head lightly again, feeling like a newborn child unable to support my own weight. One of my arms lay outside the protection of my blankets and it was my exposed hand that felt the feather light touch of this stranger's palm against my own.

It was strange. Not at all like the withered, wrinkly skin of an elderly woman. Their hand felt cool and their hand span felt enormous, stretching across my palm and almost covering the whole width of my forearm. Their touch became more tangible, holding my hand carefully in the giant palm of their own; their fingers encircling my thin, snappable wrist. A soft sigh escaped their lips, the final clue that this was not the woman from before, as it reverberated inside a much broader and taller chest.

I tried to flutter my eyes open. Sweat dripped down my forehead, causing my eye lids to feel sticky and congealed. A chilled, wet flannel was suddenly pressed over my face; my visitor carefully dabbing all over my flushed skin.

"Rose?" the voice was surprisingly tentative and quiet. It came from a deep chest, that seemed at odds with the man's unsteadiness.

Now my eyes had been cleaned, I managed to squint just enough to take in a large shape sat next to me. Thoughtfully, this man had dimmed the lantern, so I could adjust without pain. Butterscotch fully permeated the small space I was in, coming from the strange man himself.

"Hmmm" I murmured, feeling pleased and relaxed despite the intrusion. I took a deep breath in, my lungs feeling slightly clearer.

"Rose, I'm here to take you home," The deep baritone continued, squeezing my arm as he spoke.

My brow furrowed, his face still a blur but I could recognise that he had quite soft looking chestnut hair. A strange urge to run my fingers through it came over me, but he had hold of my only free hand.

"Where's home?" I asked confused. A loft, a boat, a little bedroom, and a poky terrace flitted through my mind in quick succession. None of them felt right. None of them were home.

"With me." The man spoke firmly now, confident and immoveable, lifting my hand whilst bringing his torso down so as to kiss the back of it. Sharp tingles travelled up my arm, helping my senses to focus. My eyes had gotten used to the light and I could take in the appearance of my visitor more acutely.

Hazel eyes to match his hair. Heavy brows that made his face look serious, even when not pulling a frown. His stare was intense, as if wanting to swallow me with his gaze; in my little bed aboard this unknown carriage, I felt like I'd just been hunted and cornered.

Somehow, I knew this man. I was sure of it. But, despite my recent upsurge of energy, I could feel myself beginning to crash again. "Is it safe?" I murmured, leaning my head back into the pillows, and letting out a little yawn.

The question seemed to upset the man, his nostrils flared and his grip tightened. "No danger will befall you ever again Rose." His voice was steely and menacing; I shivered at the intensity of his vow. I realised he took up most of the carriage, there was no way he could stand in here: a small giant come to keep me safe.

"Good," I slurred, ready to fall back asleep again in the comfort of his company, "You have to hide me."

"Why Rose? Why must you hide?" the man clearly didn't like the thought of that, a strange and animalistic growl followed his words.

"I can't remember," my voice dropped, sounding melancholic. I felt sure there was a great reason as to why I must be hidden, "It's important though..." My eyes had shut again now, the effort to stay awake was too much. I began to drift off, the feel of this man's hand over mine causing me to feel protected.

"Go to sleep little Mate," was the last thing I heard before falling into a deep, restorative slumber.