[ The trembling isn't little enough to go unnoticed by her, and she aches to hold onto him. To take each scar, one by one, and claim them with her lips. It isn't the first time a love of hers has been scarred, and she wonders why Jon had to be hurt so deeply, on different levels. Instead of tugging him to her bed in the small Horizon home, or even kissing him to soothe, she simply takes one of his hands in both of hers and attempts to be an anchor for him, support. She thinks that's all of it, but then he continues, and she feels the breath hitch in her chest, hanging there painfully until she raggedly exhales. ]
Dead.
[ She repeats it slowly, thinking of those she knows who have told her if not for Abraxas, they would be dead. She thinks of vampires, of Louis, how death and the dead aren't what she'd come to believe. It's still difficult to wrap her mind around, that this man she loves was dead and could have been gone forever, might never have arrived here. Bending her head, she presses a very soft kiss to his knuckles, reassuring herself of his solidity and leaving behind a bit of dampness from a stray tear. He was hurt, murdered, and it makes her stomach ache. ]
I believe you, Jon.
[ She's straightened, looking at him again. She wants to pull him close, to love him, but she's made an agreement and she can only hope that in Nocwich, he'll let her take him in her arms. ]
[If he had not already begun to suspect that he has stayed longer than he should, it's the little kiss to his knuckle, her hot little tear on it, that would have told him. So at first, his only response to what she has said is a sober nod. What he has told her is something he has barely spoken of to anyone, and now that she knows, he is content to let it rest where it is.
Not much longer than a fortnight before they can go to Nocwich. If he doesn't leave here soon, there won't be a decision to be made; there will be only more kisses and more than that. And though he thinks he knows what his decision will be, and she likely knows from the things he has just said what it will be too, it would still be wise to take the time to be sure.
Even so, it is not easy to stand up and walk out a door right after such a confession as he has just made, so he does not. He takes a few slow, hard breaths, masters the trembling, masters the desire to linger here, holds her hand all the while.
Then he gives it a little squeeze and releases it. He places the flats of his hands on his thighs as if he's about to stand.]
I ought to be getting back. Send me your list of anything you need from the markets in Thorne; I have a little coin, as long as you can wait for them.
[Then he does push to his feet.]
Claire, one way or another -- whatever either of us decides -- we will see each other in Nocwich. All right?
[ There's a part of Claire that dares not hope, even if most of her does. Whether it should be wrong or not to hope for Jon is something she'll have to come to terms with, and she will. Just as she did two hundred years in the past. (At the very least, the choice of going back to Jamie has been taken away from her when she very much could have walked back to Frank.)
It's a comfort to her that Jon stays as long as he does, and when he stands, she stands with him, smoothing her hands down her stomach as he offers to purchase a few goods for her. She manages a small smile at that, one that curves her mouth but doesn't reach her eyes. ]
Thank you, I will. I can't imagine there will be much, but I'll let you know.
[ It isn't as if she has to escort him out, but she leads him to the door anyway, and once they're both at the entrance, she looks at him again. ]
We'll see one another.
[ She reaches out to lightly squeeze his hand again, offering another small smile. She struggles for a moment to say goodbye, not because she is, but because she has to choose her words carefully, not too endearing or loving the way they once were. ]
[He wants to stay there, like a fool, holding her hand, but he is at the door, on the threshold, already resolved to leave. So he gives her hand one last squeeze and releases it.]
Good fortune, Claire.
[And then, after a deep inclination of his head and a moment's hesitation, he's gone: away from her little house, and not long after, away from the Horizon, back to his bed in Thorne.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Dead.
[ She repeats it slowly, thinking of those she knows who have told her if not for Abraxas, they would be dead. She thinks of vampires, of Louis, how death and the dead aren't what she'd come to believe. It's still difficult to wrap her mind around, that this man she loves was dead and could have been gone forever, might never have arrived here. Bending her head, she presses a very soft kiss to his knuckles, reassuring herself of his solidity and leaving behind a bit of dampness from a stray tear. He was hurt, murdered, and it makes her stomach ache. ]
I believe you, Jon.
[ She's straightened, looking at him again. She wants to pull him close, to love him, but she's made an agreement and she can only hope that in Nocwich, he'll let her take him in her arms. ]
no subject
Not much longer than a fortnight before they can go to Nocwich. If he doesn't leave here soon, there won't be a decision to be made; there will be only more kisses and more than that. And though he thinks he knows what his decision will be, and she likely knows from the things he has just said what it will be too, it would still be wise to take the time to be sure.
Even so, it is not easy to stand up and walk out a door right after such a confession as he has just made, so he does not. He takes a few slow, hard breaths, masters the trembling, masters the desire to linger here, holds her hand all the while.
Then he gives it a little squeeze and releases it. He places the flats of his hands on his thighs as if he's about to stand.]
I ought to be getting back. Send me your list of anything you need from the markets in Thorne; I have a little coin, as long as you can wait for them.
[Then he does push to his feet.]
Claire, one way or another -- whatever either of us decides -- we will see each other in Nocwich. All right?
no subject
It's a comfort to her that Jon stays as long as he does, and when he stands, she stands with him, smoothing her hands down her stomach as he offers to purchase a few goods for her. She manages a small smile at that, one that curves her mouth but doesn't reach her eyes. ]
Thank you, I will. I can't imagine there will be much, but I'll let you know.
[ It isn't as if she has to escort him out, but she leads him to the door anyway, and once they're both at the entrance, she looks at him again. ]
We'll see one another.
[ She reaches out to lightly squeeze his hand again, offering another small smile. She struggles for a moment to say goodbye, not because she is, but because she has to choose her words carefully, not too endearing or loving the way they once were. ]
Be safe, in the meantime.
no subject
Good fortune, Claire.
[And then, after a deep inclination of his head and a moment's hesitation, he's gone: away from her little house, and not long after, away from the Horizon, back to his bed in Thorne.]
[FIN.]