Forbidden - Complete

The last rays of sunlight fell upon the dressing table, as the light of the newly lit candles flickered eerily upon the ornate gilt frame of its accompanying mirror. Both lights crept into the crevices between the rows upon rows of bottles, oils, lotions and perfumes; playing upon the gold-and-enamel-handled brushes and hand mirror, mocking her as they highlighted the objects which summarised her life. She sighed deeply.

Why was she hesitating? Again, she scanned the corridor outside her doorway, checking that none of her family or their servants was nearby, although she knew that was not the problem. She forced herself to rise from her seat in front of the table, remove the greatcoat from its hidden compartment within one of the elaborately carved wardrobes, and slip it on. It hung to her booted feet, hiding completely the clothes she wore:  a shabby, loose shirt and trousers; deemed unfit for a woman of her class. She loosened her hair from its coiffure, and tied it into a ponytail, then slid out a hidden drawer built into the dressing table.

She picked out the worn leather mask that lay inside. Underneath, there lay a small selection of cosmetic boxes, another thing forbidden for her people. She softly traced a finger over the first, picked it up, then remembered. She replaced it. Noticing a tear trailing its way down her cheek, she swiftly wiped it away. Now was not the time for tears. She had gone over this again and again in her head - much as she hated the decision she had come to, much as it pained her, it was the only choice. She blinked until her eyes had cleared. She tied the mask behind her, slipping it on like a shield between her emotions and reality.
.............................................................................................................................................................................

She walked the narrow, shadowed streets, a whole world away from those where she was meant to belong. As she entered the rundown apartment building where she had been heading, she noticed the plain red banner of Westside, flying its defiance vainly in the breeze. The white cloth of surrender, dyed crimson with the blood of the martyrs. Despite herself, she smiled. Then she recollected herself, and entered. She walked through the stairs and corridors, following the path her feet had walked so many times, well known to her among the many others worn into the floorboards.

Her hand shook as she raised it to knock upon the door. As always, he answered promptly. Despite herself, she smiled at the sight of his beloved face. Her Sean. He ushered her in, then held her tightly. He leaned in to kiss her, but she stepped away.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern. She shook her head. She struggled to speak. For all her preparation and determination, this was impossible. And yet unavoidable.

"I'm leaving," she finally managed to force out. He stared at her.

"Leaving the Westside Alliance?"

She shook her heads, the words within it too unwieldy for her to produce.

"I'm getting married, Sean."

He stared at her.

"You knew.....we both knew......this would always be impossible. I'm Eastside, you're Westside. And that's enough. You know my people's laws, a woman my age must be married off soon. And my parents have begun suspecting that I'm deliberately wrecking the matches they attempt for me. They've threatened to disinherit me if I don't make the next one work."

"If that happened, we'd take you in, Rún. You don't have to do this........"

"I do," she insisted. "Maybe you really could take care of me, but how could I help the Alliance without access to my family's money? This is bigger than us 2, and you know it."

He did know it. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded his acceptance of this truth.

"After the match's agreed to, they'll be keeping a closer eye on me. I won't be able to sneak out here to meet you. I won't be able to take an active role in the Alliance either. I'll keep sending the money, but......."

He nodded.

"Maybe you should arrange a new mentor for me. It'll be simpler and easier for us both, not to have to speak to each other anymore......."

Again, he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. If he did, he might not be able to stop himself from futilely begging her to change her mind. The silence built. Its menace grew and crushed him. He could not prevent the words from bursting out.

"But why do you have to leave now?!"

She looked up at him as she left, unsure of the answer. She hesitated, then chose to reply.

"Because I need to get out before I've fallen in love with you."

She turned and left before he could react. As she turned to close the door, he whispered:

"What if I already have?"

Outside, she hesitated for a second, forcing down the sobs welling in her throat.

OMFG! Thas brilliant, Lowri!

Thanks

No, seriosuly. It's gr8!

Fanatastic

Thanks, Rajan

Is alright my welsh lamb

Fantastic! You have to carry on with this!

I'm going to, I'm planning on concentrating more on this after I finish the volume of The Extraordinary. Thanks

Aww, does that mean no more volumes?

No, just that I might take a slight break from it. I doubt I could give it up forever.

Very glad to hear that.

Breathtaking.

Thanks. I'll be continuing with this after I post the finale of The Extraordinary

Oh I'll have to catch up on that.
I've been really bad for doing that lately, probably because I wasn't on for about two months though.
I'll get reading ASAP!

Ok, I only have one chapter here though. It's on Rosie's forum, or I could PM it to you if you want

You could do whatever, just PM me or link, I'm not fussed.
PM would be easier tho, so I wouldnt have to go through all the pages looking for the next chapter.

With nothing else to do, she had returned home, creeping once more through the servants' quarters and up to her chambers. There, she lay prone on the bed, too drained to move. Tears flowed freely now; she had neither the strength to stop them, nor the energy to brush them away. It was almost a relief to cry. A relief to be alone, free to express the pain she felt. Finally, she had no more tears left, though she still was wracked by her emotions. She found herself drifting into the past, reminiscing how it had come to this.


She sat on her bed, her thoughts a fervent mess. What she was about to do terrified her. Yet, it wasn't a reckless, rushed decision. She had been deliberating this for weeks, and she had come to the conclusion that she couldn't not do so. Couldn't stand back, do nothing, as she was meant to.

She knew her attitude was rare, and frowned upon, among her people. When the others saw the ragged, destitute people of Westside, they turned aside, muttering that they deserved it and had brought it upon themselves. But her heart went out to them.  She could not help herself. This drove her frustration at her life, useless and ornamental as a porcelain doll, until it began to resemble something similar to hatred. The only thing which slaked it was the thought of doing something. And so she had chosen. Researched, anxiously, terrified, and found how to contact the Westside Alliance. Waiting now, building up the courage to go and meet her mentor, as instructed.


Anonymous in the borrowed coat of a servant, she walked into the designated meeting place. She glanced around, distracted by its strangeness: the dim lights, the smoke and the noise were alien to her. Another world. Focus, she told herself, remembering her instructions. She noted the young man, sitting where she had been told her mentor would be. Sensing her glance, he looked up at her, nodded and beckoned her over.

Awkwardly, she walked through the crowd towards him, and took the opposite seat. They scanned each other's faces.

"You are here to join the WA?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He nodded once, then began explaining procedures and instructions to her, interrupted by the occasional question. She did not say much, but sat there, watching the firelight play upon his features and relishing the strangeness of the experience.

"Can I ask your name?"

She shook her head.

"It's secret."

He nodded. It was not uncommon for members to hide their names, or use aliases instead. The price of identification made it too risky for most - if captured; they would face life imprisonment, and execution for the higher members.

"Sean O'Brien. It's a common enough name; I don't have to hide it."

Their meeting done, she rose and left. Hearing his voice, she turned at the doorway.

"Goodbye, Rún."

She smiled, wondering what it was that he'd called her.

"Gaelic for "secret"," he added. "Goodbye."

She nodded, repeating the words, and left.

*claps*

Thanks *mockbows* It's too short, isn't it?

No. Great.

Thanks

That's awesome, dude! Is there anymore coming or what?

Thanks. Yeah, there'll be more eventually. After I get round to writing again

Hey, I'm having trouble getting this Zombie Story that Bil wants me to write so much started. You aint the only one, believe me.