Holding Still

I refused to turn around.  I held perfectly still.  Looking through the castle window, my shoulders were tense.  The muscles in my back, my arms, my whole body for that matter, were strong enough to fight any battle or run for days but I refused to move. Any other man in his right mind would leave but unlike most of them, I resisted the easiest path.

What would she have me do? She’d tell me if she could. But I’d burn at the stake before I would speak another word to her.

Damn her.

Even with my eyes closed, I could almost feel her standing next to me.  Her words, her touch, her kiss, everything about her made sense. Even the smell her hair and the sound of her breath, were now a part of me.  But I would fight this need for her.  I flexed my hands into fists. I wanted to hit something, someone.  Make it hurt so I wouldn’t have to because it hurt to love her. She was my one weakness. Warriors were as good as dead, if they allowed themselves even a hint of vulnerability. She could bring me to my knees with one word.  Well, three actually.

Why did she have to speak?   

They claimed she was dying.  I raced through the night, a demon possessed, eager to be by her side.  When I arrived, I could have inquired about her from a servant, not come bashing into the room ready for battle. But bashing I came. I had to see her for myself.  Thank the Northern stars, she was alive. The healers had bound her wounds and said her fever would pass by evening.  Kneeling at her bedside I whispered her name, not daring to touch her hand. Her eyes remained closed. Seat covered her body as her mind raced with fever but she spoke.  She responded to my voice, saying the three words that stopped time.

My breath caught.  Her omission created the greatest foe I would ever face and the battle began.  My love for her and the logic that been beat into me since birth, took opposing corners. 

‘Create no ties that will stay your sword’ had been shouted to me since I was young. Then it became the twisted, hypocritical words of comfort when the nights were cold and the days were lonely.  I foolishly believed they made me stronger.  Enemies had power over only me. No threats of harm to loved ones could ever hinder my actions.  Even my faint family memories had long been pushed aside, rarely haunting me. Then she slipped into my life and wisps of doubt began to tangle around my determination to live a warrior’s life.

I could have denied my feelings for her longer, perhaps I still would.  My ability to bury any tender feelings was almost equal to my skill with a blade.  How else could I run a man through with my sword? Watch as his life bled out and then sleep at night having no regrets? It was by putting my feelings in the dark, quiet corner of my mind and thinking only of the coming battle.  Then she, with her clever whit and soft, slow kisses, pulled me back into the light.

I rose from her bed and walked to the window.  The morning sun was growing strong.  I wanted to run, leaving her and this place far behind.  But I didn’t move. I just stood. 

What if she calls out to me? Will I go to her if she does? My fists squeezed tighter.

She stirs, “William?”