Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 9, 2012 14:38:02 GMT -5
Emma looked Charles over with pursed lips as he moved away from the mannequin to look for bandages. He didn't seem nearly as worried about his prior belief that the mannequin was their child as she would have liked him to be. For goodness sake, he had looked at the thing like it was a real baby! As he moved away, she slowly crept into the room, letting go of the door frame, giving the mannequin a wide berth but still looking at it with slight curiousity. All things considered, it was a remarkable invention. If he had introduced her to it in a different way, she would likely have been extremely interested in it. As it was, she couldn't help but find the thing slightly creepy, even if Chalres was no longer succumbing to dillusions about it.
She looked up when he patted the bench and followed him over to it, sitting down and allowing him to take hold of her hand. She watched quietly as he put the cream on her hand and began wrapping it up, raising her eyes back to his face with a sort of reverant gratitude. She was so happy that she had Charles back. The real Charles, the one that she had fallen in love with, the one who had courted her...The one she had turned down. She had been the cause of his madness. Well, now she would take responsibility for it. She would see to it that he was always happy, that he never felt alone again, and that he never fell back into the clutches of the devil. It was for both of their sakes that she had to protect him. She herself couldn't stand to go back to being trapped in the company of a mad man.
Once he had finished, she flexed her fingers a little, looking down at her hand grasped in his before raising her eyes to his again with a little smile and a nod, "Yes...Thank you very much, Charles..."
She gently extracted her hand from his to cradle it in her lap, looking it over for a moment before raising her eyes to his again, almost compulsively. She had to keep checking, had to make sure that he was still all there...What if her soul were to be rejected from his body, what if she lost him again? She couldn't let it happen... "Are you sure you feel alright...?"
|
|
|
Post by bedeviledmanor on Aug 23, 2012 14:37:39 GMT -5
Charles looked down at his handiwork with a slight smile and thought to himself that it was quite funny that they now both had matching bandages on their hands. Devastating, but there was nothing he could do besides try to make something good out of a rather grim situation.
He let her hand slip from his and fiddled with his sleeves as she set her hand in her lap and went about examining. He could feel her looking him over from head to toe, just to make sure nothing was missing--but he knew that she was really interested in looking into his eyes. All he could really do was look back, slightly concerned for her and not for himself.
"Yes, Emma, I'm fine. I promise." Charles smiled and stood, moving his chair aside. He took her by the waist and helped her off of the workbench, standing her up in front of him--his hands lingered there, remembering yesterday. God, had it only been yesterday? He must have slept for hours.
It had been all he'd ever wished and hoped it to be--beautiful. And neither of them were ashamed of it, which was a great comfort to him, knowing that things hadn't gone out of control. They had just allowed it to happen--and that sort of thing... well, it must happen with true love and not just raw need (though he had his fair share of raw need).
"You need not worry about me," he said quietly, cupping her cheek and looking at her with knitted brows. "I feel better than I have in a century, thanks to you."
|
|
Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 23, 2012 14:51:24 GMT -5
Emma smiled just a little as he assured her again and allowed him to help her up, letting his hands rest there on her waist as he looked at her. It felt natural and right, to have him touching her there...To have him touching her at all, really. She had denied the connection between them for so long, had denied him for so long...It felt good to give in, to just let him have her. Everything felt as it should be, except...
She still had no ring on her finger. She could have continued on in complete bliss, except that they were still not married...They were not even properly engaged. He had asked her to marry him, it was true, but he had not given her any ring to seal the deal, nor had he set any date for their marriage. True, the woman usually arranged such things, but she had had other matters on her mind, things that had seemed, at the time, rather more important than something as trivial as marriage.
But marriage hardly seemed trivial now. As her eyes traveled over the man that stood in front of her, she found herself wishing that it were official, their love for each other...That they had the rings to prove that they would be together for all eternity. It was a human custom that she somehow could not let go of, though her current state seemed to dictate that she should. Her eyes continued to travel down his body until she found his hands, on her waist. On his left hand shone a ring...Very plain, but it was still there. A little pang sounded in her heart as she realized that it was a wedding ring. He had one...Already? But there had been no ceremony, nothing had been made official yet...It unsettled her just a little.
Her thoughts were turned away from this when he spoke, and her eyes met his again when he cupped her cheeks. She gave the smallest of smiles at his words, though her eyes shone brightly at them, and snaked her arms around his neck, "And you have done the same for me..."
|
|
|
Post by bedeviledmanor on Aug 23, 2012 15:05:00 GMT -5
Charles couldn't help but notice that she had spotted the wedding ring. He'd worn it for longer than he even dared remember--probably since he had died, and he had never taken it off. It seemed strange to have it now, seeing as how they weren't married in the eyes of the law. But, really, the law had never dictated his life. Certainly not after all he'd been through now.
Still, he began to feel uncomfortable once he knew that she'd noticed it. He did have a ring for her, but he could not fathom when the right time to present it could be. Certainly not now, though she deserved every diamond he could possibly offer her--he owed her his very soul. Literally! He just wanted so desperately to make it perfect... to end their sad story on a perfect note, something he'd never been able to achieve. He was generally a failure, and he just wanted to get this one little thing right.
Charles smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck. He loved their closeness--the closeness and the love that he had been denied for more than a century. He no longer felt worthless, though he certainly didn't deserve her kindness. He no longer felt like he was just a shell waiting to die. There was some little bit of hope for him--and that was Emma.
"I am glad to do it," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. There was no need for him to be so quiet, and yet he felt like there was--something about the atmosphere of this moment told him he ought to be. The hands on her waist moved to her back as he pulled her close, into a tight embrace. He closed his eyes against her neck, and when he opened them, he found that the mannequin child was staring at them. A thought came to him that lightened his mood considerably for a brief second before turning horrifying--that it could be their child after all.
Charles pulled away, looking at her if only to keep his gaze off of the doll. "Anything you want to do--anywhere you want to go in the manor. I will bring you there today. I promise you. It's the least I can do."
|
|
Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 23, 2012 15:28:29 GMT -5
Emma closed her eyes as he rested his forehead against hers and gave a long sigh. She could relax against him...It felt so strange, with everything that had happened between them, to be so relaxed and happy in his presence. But so much had changed over all the years...She no longer blamed him for the murder. She had traced everything that had happened back to its source, and she could only find herself as the guilty one. She had to make it up to him, had to keep him from slipping into insanity again. She had convinced herself that she could do it, that she was quite capable of keeping him happy and docile. It was due to her that she be this for him. She owed it to him and to the new inhabitants of the manor. They had done nothing to deserve the wrath that he would surely show them if she did not stay with him and keep him happy. In a way...She was his keeper too.
She didn't notice when his gaze fell upon the doll, so caught up was she in her own thoughts of what she had to do now. It was only when he pulled away that she opened her eyes and looked up at him again, seeming just slightly confused by his words. What could she possibly want to do in the manor that she had not done in the past century? She knew the place like the back of her hand, there was nothing new here that could surprise her. But it was so sweet of him to offer, she had to give him some sort of answer...And it would make him happy, wouldn't it? She bit her lip, thinking desperately for something that she might want to do. She did want to get out of this workshop...She could almost feel the doll's eyes boring into her back and it was making her extremely uncomfortable to even be anywhere near it. She didn't like it at all, and she didn't like the way Charles thought about it...
She looked down at her hand, at the gauze that was stretched over the burnt palm. She couldn't write or really do anything with that hand for quite a while now. It was disappointing to think about...But it would heal soon enough, wouldn't it? Surely, her new body had the ability to heal itself...But back to the matter at hand. Where could he take her? She had a fondness for a few rooms in the house...The library, of course, was lovely, and she enjoyed the books very much...She had always found the ballroom beautiful and had always wished to attend a ball that was thrown there. She imagined it would be gorgeous, if the room were to be rebuilt...Part of her also wanted to visit the nursery that she knew Charles had built...It would be nice to fix it up again, prepare for the children they would have...But she wasn't even sure if this body was capable of having children...She sighed deeply and looked back at Charles with a little smile, "Surprise me, dearest..."
|
|
|
Post by bedeviledmanor on Aug 23, 2012 15:47:58 GMT -5
Charles looked down at her with a small frown. Something fundamental had changed within him and he could almost... read her thoughts. Not really, but he felt in tune with every hint of emotion she showed, and also with the ones she didn't. And she didn't seem... happy... like she should. Not as happy as he wanted her to be.
Thoughts came to his mind of the nursery. He remembered distinctly building the lock that he had put on that door, which had been meant to keep her out. But she'd still solved it, being his clever Emma, and had found all of his secrets... that was where he had gone to think. His workshop came in second. That place that had been meant for a child--their child--was what had both comforted and devastated him.
"Well--well, what about the nursery?" he asked quietly, voicing both of their silent worries and wishes. She was still the only woman he'd ever deemed fit to bear his children, so the room reminded him of her. And now that wasn't a bad thing. He wondered for a moment if he was the only man she'd ever wanted to give her children, and he seriously doubted it. He knew there had been someone else, a long time ago. He could somehow just... feel it in his bones. It was hard to forget.
Charles took her hand and offered a small smile.
|
|
Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 23, 2012 16:08:36 GMT -5
Emma furrowed her brow a little when he suggested the nursery. It was a little unsettling...She had just been thinking about it when he suggested it. But, then again, they had the ability to read one another...It was both a blessing and a curse, as far as she was concerned, to be so close to him. She loved him, of course. But she also knew that his sanity was not entirely ensured. She didn't want to go insane herself...The house could not handle two insane beings with more power than was due to them.
Still, she did want to see the nursery. If they were going to have children together, it would have to be fixed up, as it had surely gathered some dust over the years and was not in suitable shape for a child. Having a real child would surely put any thoughts of the strange manniquin out of Charles' head, which would be a blessing in itself. And children...A child. A real breathing child. The manor had served, for Charles, as his child. She knew that much. But she could give him a real child...Perhaps even a son. And she would love that, as well.
Though she had always insisted upon being independent and never marrying and making a life for herself, part of her had always long to be a mother. It had been most prominent when she had been in love with Jack, when she had dreamt of the life that they might have together. She could give him children, so many children, and could make a happy home for him...But he had wanted nothing to do with it, had wanted nothing to do with her in that way. He thought of her as a sister...And so, she had shut off that part of her, had pushed it away in favor of more academic pursuits. Until she had met Charles...Then, she had seen the possibilties arise again, the home that they could have together. But, foolishly in retrospect, she had denied him, had denied that life in favor of one filled with knowledge. She had been blind to what her life could have been- and what it was now because of her refusal.
But that could all change now. She now had the chance to redeem herself- and she would. She smiled back at him, letting him take her unharmed hand, and walking beside him out of the workshop, quite grateful to leave the company of the manniquin.
|
|
|
Post by bedeviledmanor on Aug 23, 2012 16:28:14 GMT -5
Charles, too, was rather glad to leave the nursery. He'd been amazed at what he'd built even in the short time she had been sleeping, but now it scared him--thoughts and images of it being his baby flickered through his mind every so often. Not genuine thoughts, otherwise they would not have scared him so badly. He hadn't been disturbed by himself since he killed the dogs a century ago.
As they walked through the manor, Charles's head never stayed in one direction; he turned and swerved and got side-tracked often, speaking to her of the various cracks and leaks in the floors and ceilings, in the banisters, in the walls, and how he planned to fix all of them. Not even their master bedroom was fit to be seen--littered with old boards and coated in velvet layers of dust--and he spoke of his plans to change all of that.
When they finally arrived at the nursery, he still had her held by the wrist. The glowing white bandages on his hands smoldered his fingers, but did nothing to affect her aside from a little tingle. He took a step over the threshold and sighed quietly as the floorboards creaked beneath him. The nursery was in as much disrepair as the rest of the house. Toys and blocks and dolls overflowed the place, though a few had been taken by the Victomesse's child. The empty crib was filled with dying flowers and a baby mannequin with wide blue eyes and a chunk taken out of its skull.
Charles moved about the room with great care, almost as if there was a baby sleeping in it, and examined everything. "I hope there's no... mold," he whispered, gnawing on his lip. It was a habit he had picked up in his mere days of being a human, and it hadn't exactly made him kissable. Emma would have to remind him.
|
|
Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 23, 2012 16:52:52 GMT -5
Emma followed him duitfully through the manor, nodding at everything he showed her, smiling at his plans to rebuild the place for them. She had no doubt that he would and could do it. He had designed the house, for heaven's sake, and surely knew exactly what must be done to make it beautiful once again. And how lovely would it feel, to have that part of them put back together again...It would almost be like repairing their souls....Though, Emma reminded herself, their souls were now one and the same. They were, essentially, the same person, though his personality remainded. Strange to think of...She didn't regret the action, of course, but she did wonder about the consequances that it might hold.
Still, it was so lovely to see him like his old self once again- excited by everything, by the prospects of what might be. She didn't answer him or speak much, as he hardly gave her time to between his words, but merely watched him with a small smile. He would be like his old self again...She knew that he would. And they would have the life that they were always meant to have.
She grew a little more subdued, and the smile fell from her face when they reached the nursery. She had expected it to be in disrepair, of course, but this...This was something else entirely. She could not dream of bringing a child into this place- he would surely get himself killed within a few moments, with all of the broken toys lying about. When he began walking about the room, she followed him slowly, looking about. Her eyes fell on a rag doll on the floor and she picked it up, hold it gently and looking at it with a sort of tenderness, brushing the dust from its dress and hair. She continued to hold it as she looked about the room, until her eyes fell on the crib.
At the sight of the manniquin that was lying in the crib, she dropped the rag doll and took a few steps backwards, pressing her lips tight together at the crib. She knew, of course, that Charles was making the manniquins...But it was somehow so much more disturbing to see that he had actually placed one in a crib, had actually gone so far as to make it like their child. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the wavering fear in her. The doll looked so old, it could hardly have been placed there recently. He would not do anything like this now...She looked over at him, taking deep breaths to come herself. Almost automatically, the words came out as she saw what he was doing, "Don't bite your lips, dear..."
|
|
|
Post by bedeviledmanor on Aug 23, 2012 17:14:20 GMT -5
Charles did not notice her silent battle as it took place over his shoulder. He was busy inspecting the dresser, seeing what clothing had survived the years. He was glad this house had been kept in the family--surely any other ignorant homeowner would have torn these locks off. Oh, but Rose knew better than to get in his way, and she always had.
He turned, and stopped biting his lip as soon as she said, looking over at her. She looked horrified, and he didn't understand why. Yes, the room was a sad sight, but that was all behind them... soon, there would be a real child in here. Children, even. And they would be happy again. It seemed as though he could never make her happy... she was still plagued with thoughts of the old him...
"Emma?" He was suddenly over her shoulder, much too fast to be humanly possible, and he spotted the baby. Oh. That's what had upset her. But, again, it really meant nothing--that should all be behind them now. It should...
Charles walked forward and picked the mannequin up. It was dressed in pretty standard clothes for a baby doll, and was holding a rattle. Its one functioning eye whirled from the back of its skull to look at him, and he yelped quietly in surprise, holding the doll away from him. There was a moment of silence, which was filled only with the harsh grinding of gears that filled the faux-child. Charles slowly walked to one of the shelves and placed the mannequin up with all of the other dolls--the innocent ones that should have been there in a child's room.
Then he turned back to Emma. "There... all better now."
|
|
Emma Ravenhearst
Love can hold one captive in more ways than one...
The bride of Ravenhearst
Posts: 269
|
Post by Emma Ravenhearst on Aug 24, 2012 16:03:46 GMT -5
Emma gave a little gasp when Charles appeared behind her within a half a second of her words. She hated when he moved so quickly like that. She had the ability to move like that as well, but she never used it, seeing as she wanted very much to be human and to be normal again. She wanted to forget about ever having been a ghost, as much as she could...Though she knew that to forget about it entirely was nearly impossible. It had been too long, she had suffered too much...As much as she wished to leave the past behind, it was hard to do now.
She watched as he walked over to the baby, her brow furrowed slightly, watching as he picked the thing up. She gave a cry and stumbled backwards when its eye rolled around in it socket to look at Charles, her eyes wide with fear. She would never get used to how creepy those inventions were! They inspired far too much fear in her now for her to ever appreciate them as the marvels of machinery that they really were. They reminded her too much of Charles' madness, something that she was not at all eager to recall. It gave her a small amount of hope when he seemed unnerved by the baby doll's movement as well and she breathed a little sigh of relief when he went to put the baby doll on the shelf with the rest of the dolls. Well, at least he wasn't operating under any delusions of the child being theirs...Though, she thought, she would probably remove the doll from the shelf the first chance she got. She didn't think that an infant would like it very much.
She slowly removed the hand from her chest as he turned back to her, breathing a little easier now. Perhaps she had overreacted slightly...Well, she was still jumpy about him. And she thought that she had good right to be, in any case. She walked over to him, carefully stepping over broken toys and boards, "Thank you...This room needs so much work..."
|
|