N. Walters - Embroidered Fantasies

“He’s right. It would be selfish of us to ask you to stay after everything. I’m glad we killed those bastards though. You will have nothing to fear when you return home. That will at least give me some comfort.”

He turned on his heel and strode from the room, oblivious to the lone tear that rolled down Roxanne’s cheek.

The moment the door closed behind Sednar, a sob broke from Roxanne’s chest. She ached from head to toe, her body battered and bruised from her desperate race through the forest. But the pain in her heart was the worst.

These men loved her. They’d pleasured her, protected her, killed for her. And they were ready to let her go. Not because they didn’t want her, but because they did. Had she ever even thought a love could be so selfless? No. She hadn’t thought it possible.

Thought it to be nothing more than a fairytale perpetrated by romance books and movies.

But it was real. These men were real. Her love for them was real.

The question was, what was she going to do about it?

She rolled over in bed, whimpering as every muscle in her body protested. Her legs were stiff and sore. Her arms were no better. Both had scratches and bruises, but they would heal with time. Would she ever recover if she left here? Would her heart eventually heal?

The shutters were closed in the window, blocking out all light. A fire crackled in the fireplace and soft furs covered her. The scent of Radnor and Sednar rose up from the sheets when she moved, surrounding her in their essence.

Exhaustion took her under before she could make any decisions. She was vaguely aware when two large male bodies climbed into bed beside her. She didn’t fully wake but snuggled closer to their warmth. Relaxed and secure, she drifted back to sleep.

Hours later, she woke. Her eyes popped open and she sat up in bed, moving slowly so she didn’t jostle either Sednar or Radnor. She was sandwiched between them. Both of them were still wearing their pants and lying on top of the covers. Neither of them was touching her.

There was a low hum in the air, almost electric. Roxanne squirmed out from between the covers, careful not to disturb either one of them, and inched her way to the end of the bed before climbing off. She cocked her ear to one side. It was coming from outside. She felt compelled to follow it. Only problem was, she was totally naked.

Her bubblegum pink uniform lay across the back of one of the chairs. Her underwear was there too, but she ignored it. There was no way she could manage to pull a bra and panties on. Not with how stiff and sore she was.

She scooped up the dress and tugged it on, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning as every muscle protested. It was amazing how strange the synthetic fabric felt against her skin after only a few days. She zipped the front of the dress shut and headed for the door.

Opening it a crack, she peered into the hallway. All was quiet. She eased out of the room, closing the door behind her. The chill from the stone floor seeped into the bottoms of her feet. She wished she’d pulled on the leather boots Radnor had given her but that would have meant bending over. There was no way she could accomplish that without a lot of pain. She didn’t bother to go back, but kept on walking.

The compulsion grew as she mounted a narrow set of stairs to the upper tower. At the top was a lone door. Placing both hands on the wood, she pushed. It creaked as it opened. She stepped inside. The room was barren, the window uncovered. The breeze was cool as it raced through the room, stirring dust.

Roxanne padded to the window and stared out. The land was so vast and dark.

There were no streetlights, cars or electrical lines. A low moo of a cow reached her ears, followed quickly by the yip of a dog. She definitely wasn’t in Los Angeles anymore.

She liked it here. The pace of life was slower. People really knew their neighbors.

They took pride in their work. They could see how what they did made a difference to the whole. And, of course, Sednar and Radnor were here.

A light blazed behind her. She swiveled around and her breath caught. The tapestry hovered about five feet in the air, a bright light surrounding it. The colors shimmered like a chest full of jewels touched by the sun. “You really are magic.” The image on the tapestry was the one she remembered—the vibrant green forest, where she’d run for her life, the clear, blue lake where she, Radnor and Sednar had talked, the fertile land she’d walked with both men. But more importantly, were the two men standing tall and proud in front of the familiar stone castle. They seemed almost alive as they watched her, as if trying desperately to influence her decision.

As she watched, the image on the tapestry began to fade and another one began to take its place. As though the tapestry couldn’t quite decide, it morphed through people and places, never settling on one.

Decide.

The word shimmered in her brain. Not spoken aloud, but understood.

Roxanne knew without a doubt that when she made up her mind, the image on the tapestry would change for good. She would never see it again after tonight.

Go or stay.

Primitive world versus modern conveniences. There was no chocolate or television.

No tampons. There was violence and hardship here.

There was also love.

Go or stay.

A sense of urgency filled her. If she didn’t make a choice the tapestry would make it for her.

She stared at the magical piece of fabric that had changed her life, entranced by the vivid colors swirling through it. “You know my decision.” The wind swept around her like a soft sigh. The light around the tapestry grew brighter and brighter, blinding her. Roxanne threw the back of her arm over her eyes. It didn’t help. The light grew, enveloping her.

There was a huge whoosh.

As quickly as the light appeared, it was gone.

Radnor jerked up in bed, already rolling to the side and grabbing his sword from the floor. Across from him, Sednar did the same. They both looked back to the bed at the same moment. Roxanne was gone.

“Nooo,” Sednar moaned. He dropped his sword to the floor and fell to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands.

Radnor’s legs shook, his head screaming a denial. Roxanne was gone. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand in the center of the mattress. It was still warm. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and landed on the sheet where she’d lain. He propped his sword next to him and raked his hands through his hair, tugging until his scalp ached.

“We should have asked her, begged her to stay.” Sednar dug his palms into his eyes and took a deep breath.

“We couldn’t.” Even to his own ears, Radnor thought his voice sounded hollow.

Empty. Just like the rest of him.

His brother stared at him, anguish in his gaze. “We should have given her a reason to stay.”

Radnor’s gut twisted. Maybe his brother was right, but it was too late now. “She made her decision.” He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand as he pushed himself off the bed and walked to the table. Picking up the jug of ale that sat there, he poured some into two mugs, ignoring the fact that his hand trembled, sending a good amount of it spattering across the table.

Too late.

The words echoed in his brain, tormenting him.

Too late.

What if they’d talked with Roxanne, pleaded with her to stay? Would she have taken pity on them and done so?

Too late.

Halfway across the room, he stopped in his tracks and flung the two mugs of ale into the fire. The flame in the hearth burst high into the air and the wood mugs bounced off the stone hearth, shattering into several pieces. Radnor fell to his knees and let out a roar of anguish that rattled the shutters.