I'm alive! Yay!

I took my first two themes from the 100 themes, because I was stuck for inspiration.

Dedicated to YOU!

Yes you.

And also to prettystarshine ;) thanks for adding me your alert.

Savings Box

(This is pre-adoption.)

Christopher stared meekly at the small, cardboard thing in his hands. He shook it and it gave a feeble metallic rattle. About twelve pennies, at a guess. Not surprising; the military paid peanuts. But surely he should have more than this! Where had all his savings gone? He was usually quite good with money. The military supplied him with clothes, food and board. He had no hobbies and kept his room very minimalist-you could hardly tell someone lived there at all. Where was all his money going?

Winia sat in her small room in the Big Bear inn. She ran her fingers over the smooth silk scarf in her hands and blushed softly at the memory of Chris presenting it to her earlier that day. It was beautiful, but she had no idea how he could possible afford it without spending most of his money. Her blush deepened, and she resolved to tell him not to overspend too much. She would be happy as long as he was kind to her.

Photograph

Winia awoke, alone, in the middle of the night. She was shivering violently, and the cold was what alerted her to her husbands absence. Winia dragged herself out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown. She walked slowly down the corridor and pushed open the door to her husbands study. Sure enough, there he was asleep at his desk, a small piece of paper scrunched up in his left hand. She tiptoed until she stood beside him and knelt down until they were face to face. Her eyes never leaving Christopher's hansom features, she pulled the photograph from his hand. He stirred slightly, but stayed dead to the world. She unfolded it and looked, although she already knew what she would see. It was a black and white photograph – a group photo with Chris standing in the middle. He was surrounded by at least twenty other people, but closest to him were Fafel, Dennis, Sutton and Jill. His most loyal Obstinate Arrows. She stared wordlessly at the photo for a long time. Even now, after so much time had passed, it still felt unreal to think that they were all dead. They had died in battle, having been called up for war almost year ago. Christopher had commanded that they all be given a proper funeral. She had never seen him like that before. Broken.

She had stopped him from going, begged that he stay with her. She couldn't bear to lose him, and now, because of her selfishness, he had lost so so much. And she knew that part of him, no matter what he said, would never forgive her.

The Road Home

She wasn't sure what was keeping her in the capital. It was a nice city, but it was also jut that, a city. She was unused to the hustle and bustle of the place, of not knowing her way around, of there being strangers everywhere she looked. In a way it was better…at least the people at home didn't know how badly she had been snubbed. She had little respect among the villagers as it was. They needn't know how badly it had hurt her when he had ignored her like that…definitely not. She could leave at any time, so what was holding her back? Was it fear? There had been rumours…and her uncle had warned her to be sure to be back (without putting too fine a point upon it) within at the most nine months…her face turned involuntarily red.

But then what were they suppose to think? She had to admit it, it was a bit suspicious…guy kidnaps girl, girl goes running off to find him…not that she had said that was where she was going. But they had guessed. So yes, fear was a part of it. But there was something else…was it…hope?

Violence

Winia focused on the sound of footsteps behind her…yes they were still there. The men were still following her, and with no signs of tiring of their pursuit. She tried to pick up her pace, but they copied her, and her blood pressure was surely rising. Her heart was pounding and he had begun to shake. The fact that she was hopelessly lost did nothing to improve her situation. She counted slowly in her head…three…two…one…now! She set off at a run, a last ditch attempt at escape, and heard the footsteps behind her pick up in pace. One of the men shouted, and a figure leapt out from an alleyway to her left and grabbed her before she could react and dragged her off to the side of the street. The two men who were her pursuers cheered him and something like bile rose up in her throat as the attacker covered her mouth with a wide callous hand. The men laughed in unison as she struggled vainly to escape. Suddenly, the attacked slammed her into the wall and smashed his lips against hers. Winia cried out, but it was muffled, and she had little choice but to stay put as he continued to assault her. She could taste the rancid essence of alcohol on his lips and in his breath. Then one of his grubby hands rose to her bosom and she panicked and bit down hard on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. The man cried out, stepping back, and swinging a fist at her. The blow disorientated her completely, and she was forced to be still as he scrabbled at the fastenings of her shirt. Tears were streaming down Winia's face and just as she was about to black out she felt the mans weight lifted off her. She raised her eyes to meet Christopher's…she had never seen him so angry. Her original pursuers lay bloodied, but still breathing, and her assaulter was spread eagled on the ground where Chris had thrown him. Winia had time to stumble forward with a small cry of; "Chris!" before his arms enveloped her and she blacked out. Gently Chris lifted her up and held her limp body close to him as he carried her to safety.

Cradle

Chris was woken in the night by his wife's tossing and turning. She pulled herself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, and he was treated to the sound of her being violently sick. Why, he thought mournfully to himself, do they call it 'morning sickness' if it lasts all day. Eventually though, Winia stopped being sick and greeted him once again with her presence.

"Sorry." She mumbled tiredly and apologetically, and got back into to bed. He wrapped an arm around her and her swollen stomach, snuggling into her and was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard her crying softly.

"Winia?" He gently brushed the tears from her face and turned her to face him. "What's wrong?" She cried quietly for a few moments before looking up at him again.

"I…I…I'm scared Chris." The words came out in a flurry and instantly she regretted them. His hand froze for a second and then proceeded to brush the hair form her face.

"Winia…" His eyes were full of regret. She knew he still blamed himself for her condition, although like the baroness had said (to the mortification of the pair) to her furious adoptive uncle, it does 'take two to tango'. "It's not like that!" she reassured him quickly. "It's just…we're both orphans. I have no memories of being raised by my parents…how are we going it cope!" Chris looked surprised, and then serious, and then thoughtful.

"At least we can't do any worse." She smiled and chuckled softly, although unsure if he was joking or not. Slowly they fell asleep in each others arms, trusting in each other, and in the future.

Aww

Well, these have been quite depressing :'(

Sorry.

At least they're hopefully better than the last ones (which were truly terrible once I read them through).

Thanks to all of you who haven't given up on me yet :) :P

More uplifting next time I think!

~snoetiger

And I didn't forget.

If you are reading this, review (yes YOU, even if you already have, please, I need to feedback to know how to improve-and trust me I need to improve).