Unfortunate Realities (Semi-Advanced)

The price of deep sleep, it turned out, was dreams, and these began to come to him the longer he slept. Perhaps, though, it was more like reliving memories than simply dreaming, for he found himself thrown back to the events of a month before, to dressing in his very best clothes and hesitantly slipping out of his room, almost afraid of the day ahead and yet very excited about it, for he was no longer a child. The dream shifted to his mother, who fastened his cloak with gentle hands before embracing him, and the proud smile of his father. The banquet that night had not been large, for he was the youngest prince and a bit of an oddity, but he hadn't minded that. It was only once the dancing began that everything began to go wrong. His father had fallen first, after drinking from a poisoned cup. Benjamin had at first though it was merely a trick, but no trick could end so devestatingly. Certain guests, some that he knew and some who were strangers, drew swords, taking his brothers by surprise and slaughtering them. His sweet, gentle mother had ushered him into a corner and stood in front, trying to protect him. She had taken his sword, showing a surprising adeptness with the weapon, but she had been killed as well, and then the men had come for him, their drawn swords covered with the blood of his family and those who had tried to stop them. Benjamin woke with a start, shaking with silent terror.

He tensed slightly when she touched his cheek, but when she ran her hand through his hair tears sprang to his eyes. His oldest brother, Jonathan, had always seemed to be ruffling his hair for one reason or another, and the mere touch of her hand to his hair was enough to remind him of his brother and set off a whole new chain of memories. When she hugged him, he rested his head against her shoulder and let himself cry, weeping for his dead family. It was the first time he had let himself do this - when they were on the way to the castle, there was always a guard watching and he hadn't dared to cry, and in the prison he was always in too much pain to shed tears for his family. Here in the tower, the pain was no less, but there was someone whose shoulder her could cry on, and he was taking advantage of it.

For a while he stayed there, weeping, silent sobs shaking his body. Finally, though, his tears ran dry and he could not cry anymore. The sobs slowly shrank until they were mere tremors, but still he stayed in her arms needing some small comfort for the grief he felt. He knew no comfort could ever erase it, but it helped to know that someone had seen what he was going through and cared about him. When even the tremors had died away, still he stayed, deciding to let her be the one to choose to let go of him. Benjamin laid his head on her shoulder, his eyes red with crying but half-closed, his breathing deep but still catching in his throat every now and then.

(Sure - how far? I'll reply with some IC narration when I know. ;) )

(Same. :) I'll skip forward a few weeks, then.)

Over the next couple weeks, Benjamin's wounds slowly healed, and finally he was able to move about without much pain. Each day he would coax Enna into eating at least one of the meals, and each night he huddled close to her for warmth. The weekly floggings had stopped, possibly because of the princess, but he was still called before the king at the end of each week, and each time he was given the choice to stay in the tower or serve the king with his gift. Each time he refused and was brought back to the tower, and the chain was locked about his wrist once again. He hated it, but knew there was nothing he could do. The days were getting colder, and more of the straw was used to keep the wind out of the tower. New straw was brought in, which left more dust, and one morning he glanced between the girl and the dusty floor and raised an eyebrow, silently asking if she wanted to form a drawing, a plan, or a story.

He smiled when he saw her face, and moved as far as the chain would let him. 'Story, drawing, or plan?' he wrote in the dust at the very edge of his reach. He would be perfectly willing to make or draw a story with her if that was what she wanted, but it had been more than a month and a half since he had been captured, about a month of which he had spent in either the dungeon or the tower. He wanted out, but he knew that they couldn't rush into it blindly. If they failed, they would surely be separated, and the might even be killed. He knew they would not kill him unless they had to, but he was worried for her safety.

He nodded, then quickly added a body and a tail to her drawing, placing a bridge beneath the girl's feet and adding a few lines beneath to suggest water. The idea of a human with cat ears was strange to him, but he supposed that they would probably hate the water just as much as cats did, and therefore would probably want to get across the bridge as quickly as possible. The drawing was not amazingly good - it was difficult to draw the way he wanted to when he could only trace shapes in the dust - but he had also tried to keep it small so they would have room. He much preferred his writing to his drawing, for although he could not use the pen he was accustomed to, the words were still written in a simple but elegant style. He couldn't say as much as he wanted to, but what he could write down he could at least write down nicely.

As she drew her night sky, Benjamin carefully drew a small clump of trees near the end of the bridge. Hiding among them and peeking out, he drew another cat-human, this one a boy who was watching the girl with wide eyes. He hesitated a moment, then reached over and traced the outline of a fish in the water, so the girl would have something to look at. Cats like fish, in his experience, so perhaps this girl would as well. He glanced shyly over at Enna to see if she approved of this. Even though they had grown closer in their weeks in the tower, he had never drawn a story with her before, and there was a strange fluttering sort of feeling within him, something that was both happy and nervous.

He saw that she was looking toward him for approval, and returned the smile she had given him. Drawing like this was not exciting in the way that archery or horseback riding had been, but he rather liked it. It felt...nice. Benjamin moved over to the second drawing of the girl, adding in the boy again. He had stepped out of the woods this time, holding something behind his back and regarding the girl shyly. Benjamin glanced over at Enna again, smiling down at her.

He heard her laugh twice, which amazed him. It was the first time he had heard her laugh, and the sound was refreshing in this dismal place. Seeing the excitement and curiosity in her gaze, he could not help but hope that he did not disappoint her. Benjamin hesitated, considering changing what he had planned for the boy to be holding, then decided against it. If she didn't like it, then she didn't like it. With slightly trembling fingers but a small smile tugging at his lips, he redrew the boy, who had now taken his hands out from behind his back and was holding out a small bouquet of flowers. The boy's expression and posture were a mix between joy and hope, with just a touch of fear, as if he were wondering how the girl would react to the flowers.