I smile a little, and then burrow back in.

Did you get food?

I do not answer, not willing to tell him how empty my stomach is at this point and really not caring.

Leifde? he once more brings me up and out of my hiding.

Not yet.

He lightly feels my cheek, and then draws me back in. You make me concerned, if shame doesnt make you eat, than I dont know what will.

I snuggle closer and take a fistful of his shirt in each hand. Your freedom.

He tucks his chin over my head. I am free.

I look up to his throat. I mean in law.

He looks back down at me, and sighs patiently. You are absolutely right that in theory here I am not, but still I amjust as I taught you.

I watch the fire crackling in his eyes, the soft glow that illuminates his blue iris. I want you free both ways.

He watches me a moment, and then curls me close again. You want me whole.

I take a moment to understand the gentle murmur. When I do I blush uncontrollably. Yes.

I feel his smile against my hair, and slowly he clutches me tighter so that I can feel it on my skin. It is quiet a while.

Time passes by with light contact and gentle murmurs, and his touch never leaves me, or his affection. We speak of times when we didnt know each other, and of his home, and of things that were never to happen, but that we fantasized about anyway. He tells me of his family, and of his step vader, and I speak of my moeder and little sister, each passed on to a new and hopefully better life. He tells me about how he came across the Protestant belief amongst his vaders belongings in scripture, and that he then took it on as his interest in life.

I wished to travelto learn more about it and other religionsbut I couldnt leave my family. I am afraid I must admit that the part of me that wanted to leave my family because of this curiosity is what mainly got me to follow the command of AlbaI knew I would run into Protestants in an effort against themso I went. When I got here however, it was a few months back, and there were hungry people and no hope for open religion in Leydenit was all hidden. I decided to help those who were turned out of their homes in Holland, but was unable to leave when my position was arranged as Second Commanders personal assistant in guarding the inside of the city for any rebels. Of course, there were to be some, and the indication made by the breakage of the walls was our signal to be careful for any intruders. Stillregardless of my state, I looked out for the people, because our mission was not to hurt them, but to change them from thinking their way was rightI didnt believe that transformation was violence in action, I thought it was change in actionno more than change.

That is partially why I concluded that I must also assist those who needed itnot only spy on their privacy. I felt out of place for a while, but when I adjusted to being in control I decided it was my responsibility also, to host the embodiment of egalitarianism. I knew I had to be here for those who neededthat I had a purposeand that if I sinned, God would have known it was not in vain. That it was out of ignorancenot knowing virtue from sinI knew I would be forgiven if it did not repeat itself, he rested his voice a moment by my ear and I process all he has said. I carried on this way a whiletrying to not ignore people in needbut also trying to obey my own regulations as their overseerI was worried eventually that I would never find my purpose to help someone in needfor no one reached outof course with all the fear and starvation who would? It was half questioning, half an answer to himself. Then I met you.

It grows silent in the room, and the tenderness between his words returns. It was not necessarily the best day of my life considering that I almost lost my positionbut my life waschanged.

I feel the warm vibration of his voice through his throat so close to my skin. I let the penchant of it fill me from my toes up my spine.

It is a poor memory for you I am surebut it was one where I leadnot Gage. It was special to me and still is not just for thatbutwhen I felt youmade the slightest connection with youit was as if I had looked back into a mirror that held all the emotions of my heart from years agoit wasI swear I could see the he hesitates. There was a connectionwhen you looked at meI swore to God I could have seenrelief, the tiniest bit ever in your posture, and it gave me so many impulses at once I couldnt register what to do. All I wantedever cared forwas to protect itsustain it and preserve it for you, to keep it safe.

I was determinedI couldnt understand myself whyuntil I met you at breakfast that daythat is when I realized it came from the want to preserve the relief that once could have been my sisters. It pierced me with the memory how she did not get relief from her pain. I saw that relief in you and more than anythingI dreadfully wanted to protect itas I didI he curls closer around me. Also grew to want to defend you.

His voice is soft and gentle, but also energized by confiding in me what must have been fuelling inside for so long. I cannot be poetical with you with the usual words that express how I loved you when I first saw youbecausewell I first heard you when you screamedbut aside from that it is because I know it is not a happy memory for younor Iwhen we first metand potentially because I grew fond of yousurely it is not the same as instantly falling for you.

His breathing is soft against my ear. It only meddled with my emotions after the Hanging Gallowswhich was when I took it for granted that I could not keep up your security from wilting or your relief from fadingbecause only you could keep those feelings alive inside of you. When I realized I had to let go of the need to keep your innocence safeI saw also that I had grown attached to not just the duty to keep you or the want to repay my brotherly love to my sister by helping anotherbut you.

I am quiet as I listen to the sounds around us and then tune back in and listen to him again as he tilts his face to my ear.

My first impression of youwas the purity of your soul, your mindand it made me want to protect you there were a few seconds of silence more. My second impression was the struggle you put up for me and my fellow menyour strength making me remember your independenceand the third he waits a moment as though listening to something. Was your fight to actand it made me remember that I was not alone in that part of life.

I wait a few seconds to feel that my heart is still beating after such words. When I find it is, I come back to him. He is quiet, and somehow the quiet feels welcoming. I do not however, speak.

It was an overall pilgrimage to meet you at a point of understandingand when I felt I finally had joined you, I only wished to bond more he burrows into me. I often would have to hallucinate over how it could happenbut you somehow agreed along the way andwe hallucinated together until it became real.

I feel the knots inside me loosen a little with the joy he is putting through me, but I know it is not solving our problem and almost resent it entirely. I can feel the thumping of his heart through his chest and wonder secretly if it ever rose to a level I had not felt before when I was in danger. I turn my face into his neck and the warmth of it masks my face from the outside world for a few forgetful moments. Soon it makes me long for more though. I gently feel my fingers sink into his waist and wish for the freedom to explore him further, but I know better and to keep these desires inside, letting them slip with others that occupy my mind.

I feel the light tickle of his lashes as he blinks against my skin and force down the urge to shiver. I snuggle further into him and he lovingly allows me to hold him tighter. I drift over his words and think of the last bit, until I let myself enjoy gentle talk instead of worrying again.

Pilgrimage?

There is a light crinkle of the sheets as he shifts his leg between mine. Is it not satisfactory? His voice is gentle and I hear the verge of his smile.

I am curious to know the scenery, I reply softly.

He presses his face into me. It wasrockyand made me have to plan and sweat to make it to the final destinationI was left winded at times, yet the flowers seemed to bloom despite the endless cliffs and deserts of the hike.

I smile and burrow into him, feeling him smiling too. At least there werent many climbs.

He bundles me up into him. I finally found the grasslandsbut yesI suppose I should be grateful for the lack of climbing up mountainsor plunging into the dark too often.

I let out a tiny laugh, one breath, one try. I am glad that you did.

He squeezes me more despite the already jammed space between us. I just need to remain there now.

It stabs me. The words were meant harmless, but they hold the secret we have hushed out now for the past several minutes between us. There is no time to remain.

I would lose him.

Nadeje.

I would lose him again.

The truth of it is too much to bear. My chest feels weighted down, and I am hardly able to breathe from my nose, instead treading it in through my mouth.

Even though he was here now, who promised he would be safe? Who promised he wouldnt be discriminated against? Who promised he wouldnt be punished still? Who?

If anything, he would leave me. He would have to leave me. I would make him leave me if the alternative was his ill fate. The dream I had held the past hours for patience with the treatment of my back I now see was too much for me to have imagined. It was fancied, immaterial, and at a distance from my reach.

He would leave. Be commanded to leave. I wouldnt be allowed to be with him. I wouldnt be allowed to have him be the master of my body. That was Zeniths job. That was Zeniths responsibility since I chose my destiny years ago.

The weight against my chest becomes so heavy I feel it weighing me down. I cant think of it. I cant see it. I feel tears prick at my eyes. It pains me to think that I would be ruining the time I have left with him and I close my eyes tight trying to get rid of the tears, but they are adamant as my throat tightens and I am left to hold it back. He nudges me a little with his face and I feel my chest shake as I let out the breath I had been holding to keep from breaking down.

My Lyra, it is gentle. Forever more.

I grow pained at his words and my chest burns. Nadeje He turns his head and burrows against my neck. Forever mine.

I cant hear the lies. Nadeje, it wont be forever. It is a harsh whisper, mixed with pain.

He pauses against me. Your meaning?

I feel alone in the thought, abandoned to feel the burden by myself. I hate it and want him not to be able to escape and leave me so easily. I wont be yours forever He lifts back a little. You do not wish to be?

I hold back the sob waiting to be released. NoI wish it to last foreverpast that pointbut youyou cant love me after you there is only a small pause before he responds.

You will always be mine, he says gently. I feel his face against my neck and close my eyes. No matter where I am or who I becomeyou will remain part of my journeyone of the many roads crossed in my life.

I grow a little tighter. One of many, it comes out without my meaning for it to and he hears it.

There are many roads to cross in life, Lyra. You have been one of my dearest. We both have many more to cross in our lives he tucks his face between mine and his chest. Some with each other, some without.

It is a strong statement, but by one who is stronger than the statement itself. You should have been a preacher.

He laughs at the connection made and it ends in a light nod of his face into my neck. I would never give up a life with you for precincts of a preacher. It is softly spoken but not lightly felt.

I feel the warmth of his back in my hand and for a moment can only think about how it would be gone soon.

I try to process what he just said but feel my gears are stuck at the sickness of them. I feel suddenly that the tears are leaking down my cheeks and I have to hide my face against his shoulder in order for him not to feel the tears. I curse myself and the man who was responsible for this. Then I feel it, I am quaking ever so slightly in his arms. I feel my throat collapse its tightness, and a small choke escapes me.

I want to end it right there, but it is only the beginning. I break into a fit of sobs and they gradually grow less held back as it hits me harder.

He wraps me against him and buries his face against me, murmuring all the while promises of how he wouldnt let them hurt me and how I was here now and here forever in his heart no matter what.

I love it and want it, even would continue to cry for his comforts; but I dont want it if it wont last, dont want it if he wont stay alive, if he chooses to become an experiment or hanging dead man. I burst into him and feel myself useless as I try to regain composure and try to reach out to find a better hold on him, but constantly fail to do both.

I feel him scoop me up and soon I am in his lap, his back and head against the headboard and pillows, and mine against his chest. He lets me lie against him, violently shaking as more shameful sobs exhaust my body. He does not try to stop me. He listens, letting me deliver the heavy burden I had been carrying into his awareness and letting me avoid further contact until I am ready. I gulp for air and end up letting out an embarrassing wail as I choke into him again. I forget it as he lowers his face into my neck.

I unwind in his arms and let him secure me as I become too limp to stay upright. I feel his shaky sigh hint my ear and I sob with some relief at his indication of pain as well. He swallows hard and I choke on my breath as more tears stream down and into his skin and shirt, and I cant help but wonder if he felt the cold drops soaking through his clothes.

I feel the small beat of his pulse in his neck and try to calm myself with its lulling rhythm. I feel that my heart beats are faint, and listening to mine I cannot to his. I hush a moment as I listen for the unaccompanied thump but I am diverted by the lone thud of two. I listen to the solid unison of our hearts and whimper as mine flakes a little off course. I curl closer hoping to aid the connection and I feel the duet start up again.

I shake a little with a quiet sob and try to stop it. I feel his breathing light against my skin. I listen to it and feel my chest move easily following his inhale and exhale, weaker, but still harmonized. He dips his head a bit and ventures into the crook of my neck where he hovers softly. I shift with another sob and the move makes me shift to hide in the small indentation of his throat, where the pit at the bottom fits my nose perfectly. We are silent a few moments, until I feel the light brush of his hand up my back. My hand itches to follow his movement and I realize the truth of human nature and replication. A tear sneaks past my lashes and I feel my eyes begin to water again.

I think silently of his words and of our lives so different yet so similar in many ways. He had lost his family when he was only seventeen and I mine. His memory was blackened by the flames which burned his dreams and mine were watered down by his endless waves of calm constantly soothing the memory.

I wonder if I had calmed his past for him as he has me and wonder what my memory will be like when he is gone. I push away the thought and turn instead to other things.

I think over what he told me of his sister and of his family estate in Spain and how his vader had shown up for his moeder with money and nothing more to persuade the match to her parents. Soon he left her a widow and she never talked of him to the children.

He found his vaders scripture when he was fifteen, and since his moeder was a strict Catholic woman, he knew it was nothing of hers. He hid the religious pages in his room, and learnt the religion as he learnt things of his vader through his notes. On Sundays, when he could, he went instead to the Protestant church and would be chastised later for being out and about with friends during prayer hours.

I try to imagine what he must have been like when he was so young, already trying to make out the world for what it was. I try to think of what I had been like when I wasthirteen would it be? Yes, we were about two years apart. I open my eyes and seeing his throat I reclose them and inch nearer.

I hadnt known him I think over the way he had described how his vader was a mystery, and remember how when my own vader left us I had seen his ghost lingering in every doorway.

I briefly become eased, reconsidering how his moeder was remarried to another gentleman of good Spanish descent, raising her rank higher, but not entirely her childrens. He had explained to me, that his moeders will was tied to his vaders and that together they had agreed that Nadeje was to inherit their house and wealth. He planned to share it with his sister after their moeder died and to marry her well, but then she died too. He was left sickened and couldnt seem to think straight about anything but religion.

His step vader was still alive and took over most of the house while the death of Nadejes sister still haunted him. He was described as a kind man, but Nadeje affirmed he was still worried that kindness wasnt everything.

I agree.

When he was offered the position of becoming a soldier, he took it with fear that he would be turned out of his house by his step-vader and with mixed grief and anger. After he had joined he received no letters, and he knew that his choice had been wise when he finally heard news of his step vaders remarriage to another woman, whom Nadeje decided quickly he never wanted to meet. After all these changes, he established that marriage was not the option he desired, and had pledged himself to find ways to help people who were lost or hurt. The only place he could quickly do this was the army without becoming one with the church (as he didnt want to become).

I lightly rub my face to his shirt and he seems soothed. I think over what would have happened if his choices had turned to the church instead of the war, and how if it had we wouldnt be here now. It is hard to imagine, but less hard than to think of losing him.

I love you, it is soft but loud after the quiet moments.

It makes me feel pain yet joy. I feel my throat clogging up again. Nade, I croak gently.

He reliably nuzzles me and I let the tears rise, knowing he would rather me to express than suppress it. Hmm he hums to me gently, questioning my response.

I hesitate to answer him as I fear to fall to pieces again, but I make out the words somehow. There must be a way.

I am momentarily frightened that he had not heard it, but he indicates that he has. If there was I would be following it.

I feel the tears leak. I cant let you go without He pacifies me a moment with a brush of his face to my ear. You do not need me. You need me and I will not rest in peace. Do not need me.

It is soft, but it burns my inner flesh. I cant love you if I cant need you.

He lifts away a bit and urges me up with him. His eyes are not scarce of gentility and they still hold the calm I admire so much, but they are sincere. The more you need the less you can let yourself be free, he whispers. You can love me, he leans closer and his eyes pierce mine. You can feel a need for mebut anyone cannot need anyone to surviveif you need, it makes you vulnerable and dependentit makes you attached so that when the time comes, you cannot let go.

I for once do not wish to listen to his moralities, and feeling only more needful I look down and away.

He gently moves his hands up to my hair, and cupping my neck urges me to look up at him. I only say it because I do not wish to see you vulnerable to life. You are meant to play a part of it and figure it outto contribute to itnot to be lost in it.

It is soft and meaningful, full of the want to open my eyes to better things. I read his expression a moment and then glance to his lips waiting for them to move. They do not and I look up to find him exploring me as well. I swallow and ignore the tears as they prickle my vision and his face goes blurry. He uncertainly puts pressure around my neck towards him and I close my eyes and duck my head close. He cordially pulls me in and tucks me below his head.

I reach into his stomach with my hands wanting to grab to something and hold on, but all I can wrap my fingers around is his shirt, which is an insubstantial object. I bare my hands into fists and let them slide down to his lap as they become useless. The tears cooling my hot cheeks do not help me to feel strong and that my need for him is not allowed I feel briefly very lost and untied. I let my tears stream again and do not try to stop them now.

I cant let you die, it is weak and broken and my voice feels sick in my throat.

He bows around me a little more and I feel less alone. Death is only a long sleep, one where the same person is let to be free from every bond. It is natural and would take place all the sameI cannot let you make it harder on yourself.

Or you. I feel his words make sense to me now. The more I tie him here with needs and my own weakness, the more he will have a harder time leaving if he didgo away. I try hard not to let out any more words of pain, but as I do it just makes me feel adapt to keeling over with sobs.

Nadeje, I whisper it, only wanting him to hear the word.

He cloaks me against him softer now, with less of a solid tense hold.

I feel more tears leak. I love you, it is weak.

He gently presses his hand to my back. I know it, it is soft and caring, assuring me.

It does not assure me that I wont be alone though. More tears fall. A lo-ot.

He is solid and warm and just right for me to let out tears on. It gives me joy to hear it.

I feel my throat opening up from its tightness as my chest tightens instead. I cannot stop loving you, it is half a breath, half a trembling sob.

He presses his hands firmly to me. Lyra.