{Lewi} An Enchanted Meeting {MiNaGi}

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Lewi, Oct 5, 2013.

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  1. Kieara wandered through the streets. Could it be considered her home now? It seemed all she ever did now was wander one place to the next. If it was her home she wouldn't be wandering the streets. If it was her home, someone might actually try to show her some kindness. Why was she even here? A tool for them to amuse their selves with?

    Well if there was one good thing to being on the streets, it was that she got to see the flowers outside. They were beautiful. She loved flowers. The time she'd been away had been more than enough time for her to think. For everything to sit on her mind. Sometimes it was nearly too much for her to bear. She couldn't count the nights she'd sat and cried because she was at a loss and didn't know what to do.

    Kieara had been on her own some weeks ago. She'd been early in her pregnancy then. Had only just begun to show really. And those people....Those people treated her like a dog. She couldn't just get rid of an innocent child. After all, it was a part of her as well. Not just the man who took what he wanted from her. Not just him. It was a beautiful baby within her, but they didn't see it like that. They saw a whore. A harlot. A complete breech of any moral standing. Even when she'd tried to explain the truth to them.

    And that man?...That man who took what he wanted from her in every possible way. Violated her beyond repair and took something from her she'd never be able to get back. Her purity. He'd pretty much ruined any hope of her getting a husband. Not now, not with a baby on the way and her purity being taken. They wouldn't give her a second glance. However, she couldn't help but thank him in a twisted way. For if he hadn't, she wouldn't be expecting right now, nor would she feel this sense of love for the small being growing inside of her.

    She felt isolated, alone, and helpless. She needed a hero, needed someone to save her. Save her from their stares, their words, their refusal to help her. They wouldn't even do her business to give her food to eat. No one would let her buy cloth to make clothes for the infant. They wouldn't let her do anything. They tortured her. She would starve to death soon. That much is certain. With no help and no one to turn to or nowhere to go? She was a goner. Even with the bulge on her stomach of a woman about 4 or 5 months pregnant, one could see her face was thin and so was her arms and legs showing her malnourishment.

    She was in the streets begging for food. She recalled, the last thing she'd eaten had been some bread. Where she'd gotten it she couldn't remember. That was too long ago. When had she eaten last? She could remember what it was but not when? It must have been quite awhile ago.

    Her hair was like fire. An auburn mess of ringlets that dropped down her back to just above her derriere. Though at the current time it was rather tangled and dirty from being on the streets. She was petite, even while she was pregnant. One could easily see she was all baby weight. She only stood at a height of 5'1. Not exceptionally short, but height deprived enough to be considered so. The pregnancy had brought out the woman's natural curves, her breasts had grown, but so had her stomach evening the balance. Her eyes were a bright aquamarine blue. She bore a line of freckles across her cheeks and nose that would crinkle when she laughed. Her skin was a pale as porcelain but smudged with dirt, bruises, bloodied cuts, scars from old ones. Reminders of the many beatings she'd already received and stonings out of towns. She wore her hair in a ponytail that draped over her back. It at least got the hair out of her face. There were scars and bruises on her arms and legs to accompany the rest of her broken body that had yet to heal from them stoning her out of multiple towns over her condition. She wore an emerald dress with golden embroidery on the sleeves of it. It was torn and tattered and also dirty. It appeared even to be too small for her large belly now.

    The woman was weary from so much travel. She was tired and wanted to rest, but she couldn't afford to. She was eating for two, and she needed food desperately. She wobbled to a bakers door. She was stopped at the front by an angry man. "Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here whore!" Kieara frowned tears streaking her dirt stained cheeks. "Please sir....I am begging, may I just have a bit of bread?...."

    He glared. The larger man boomed in an angry voice. "No! Now get!" He shouted giving the woman a shove. She stumbled backwards a bit finally falling onto her behind in the cobblestone street. She pushed herself up weakly to go in search of food elsewhere.
  2. Cecil had always been a brave boy. From childhood, he had been told to always stay strong, and stay true to his ideals. His grandmother had taught him to always help when he felt in his heart the ability to do so. He was on his weekly trip to town with just a bag over his shoulder when he saw it. He had just tied his horse to one of the poles and was stroking its mane as he heard it. The baker had just pushed away a woman. Despite the dirt it was clear to see how beautiful she must've been before something bad had happened. Her eyes were like crystals, and her hair fiery red, almost to the point that it looked like it was on fire. Looking closer, he figured that she was pregnant.

    Now it suddenly made sense. He looked closer and at the look in her eyes, he seemed to freeze and stop to a halt in his actions. He had only seen that look once before. His father had abused his older sister when they were young, and the sister had done so to protect Cecil from harm. He had seen that same look in his sister's eyes back then. She was definitely not pregnant out of free will. As she was knocked to the ground, he walked over and kneeled down, holding a hand out towards her.

    "Are you alright?" He asked in a soft voice. His messy, black hair made him seem like only a silhouette in the sun, and his eyes were green as grass, almost too green. Despite being tall of stature, he had a slim build, very unlike the baker and any other man in town. He did not show the usual traits of a worker in town. Most of the townspeople had brown or dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. He looked just as much like a foreigner as she did. Despite the looks everyone sent him as he held a hand out to the girl, he kept sitting there stubbornly. He would always think of what his grandmother had taught him. He had been taught to help people who needed it, to cheer up people who looked sad, to comfort someone in pain, and lastly, to follow his heart. He had spent almost his entire childhood learning from his grandmother, and his parents didn't seem to care. They had never had money problems, but Cecil had had to run away at some point, as his town was attacked. They were looking for soldiers to drag along and he had been a perfect candidate. He ran away from home and settled in an abandoned house out in the forest. It was a large house but it had needed some maintenance.

    He started hunting for food, and had shown a talent for it. After a while he decided to try and see if he could get a job. He had always liked to sew and such with his grandmother, creating beautiful patterns for dresses, curtains, carpets and whatnot. He had started selling that in town to the wealthier women, who had been very satisfied with it. Each week he would go to town and talk to some of the people, but everything would remain the same. He had no obligation or desire to tell people about his past or his family. He had abandoned his name and become "Cecil". He refused to stay with his last name, and the mysterious aura around him made him a common target amongst the young girls in town. Cecil was barely 17, a tall boy with slightly wide shoulders and a slim face, that, accompanied by his large eyes, made him seem slightly feminine, at least compared to other men in the town. He looked much like a dream prince of most girl's fantasies, but he didn't seem to be aware of this fact in the least.
  3. Kieara looked up when something shielded her from the sun. It was a young man. He looked to be no older than she. And he was absolutely divine looking. He was handsome in every sense of the word. She couldn't help but stare for a moment to admire him.

    As she regained herself she gently took his hand letting him help her up. "Thank you kind sir." She nodded to him. She knew if she stayed she'd slander what reputation he did have, therefore she spoke again. "I will leave then...before they start on you too." She began to wobble off.
  4. As she were about to leave, he grabbed her arm. He could not afford to let this girl get away, in fear of her walking away now and then die. He could see that she would wither away, and the child would not survive this either. He would never let a person like that go away if he could do something against it.

    "I want you to come with me. Would that be too much of trouble to you, miss?" He asked softly, his hand remaining gently, but firmly around her wrist. He did not care for reputation, status, power, nothing. The people who would not help this woman were the ones who should consider their own selves. Selfish, undignified people. He would never want to do anything to be a part of those people.
  5. She looked at him with weary eyes. Eyes rimmed in dark circles showing lack of sleep and abundance of worry. They reflected how much she'd really been through in these past months.

    She looked at him for a long moment before she finally spoke. "I suppose...." She didn't know why he wanted her to come with him but things couldn't get any worse.
  6. He took her with him and helped her up on his horse after he'd let it go. He patted the horse as he set off for his house. After not long, he reached the house in the forest, and he pulled her into his arms, practically carrying her to a couch in the warm living room.

    He sat down on his knees in front of her, looking up into her eyes.
    "Is there anything you'd like to eat while I prepare a bath for you? I can make a vegetable soup for you and the little one." He smiled calmly at her. He'd do anything in his power to make the look in this girl's eyes go away.
  7. Kieara held her stomach as the horse trodded off. She rested her hands on her stomach looking around here and there. Where was he taking her? Why so far into the woods? She didn't quite understand.

    When the got there and he packed her inside she was surprised at his strength to do so. Packing a little one meant extra weight. She looked at him when he set her down. Her clothes were ragged and torn and not really fit to be put back on. "I could cook...it's the least I could do..."
  8. "No, I want you to stay right there and not move a finger, because I'm going to take care of you now." After he had spoke, he spent a bunch of minutes rustling about the house, bringing things in and out of rooms and finally settling in front of her.

    "Okay, I have prepared the shower. There's a change of clothes out there for you, a dress loose around the stomach just in case. I want you to go take a long shower and then I'll cook up some dinner." He sounded insistend as he spoke, looking into her eyes, having again taken his position at his knees in front of her. He had to make sure that this girl knew that he was here to help her.
  9. Kieara looked at him and was about to protest to sitting still when he scurried off. She loved the attention, but at the same time, she felt she owed this man. The promise of food and shelter was nearly enough to make her weep with joy. She took the time that he was moving about to look around his quaint little home. She smiled at this and then looked back to the door where he re-entered.

    AS he kneeled in front of her again she looked and listened. "Thank you so much, a hot shower sounds so nice.' She spoke and held the chair's arm moving to stand.
  10. Seeing her struggle, he hooked an arm under her shoulders, helping her to the bathroom. He helped her sit on the chair that he had placed in the bathroom for her to sit on.

    "I will leave you to shower. If there is any problem, you can just call for me. I'm Cecil, by the way, nice to meet you." He smiled as he closed the door to the bathroom, scurrying off to the kitchen whilst humming to himself. He felt a bit lightheaded but overall, he was happy to be able to help another person. He settled in the kitchen where he started picking out vegetables and meat for the course he was cooking. He was going to make sure she could go to bed with no worries about her child.
  11. Kieara blushed as he helped her up. "Thank you." she spoke and wobbled along to the bathroom. She sat down on the chair thankful he'd put that in there for her. She smiled up at him. "My name is Kieara. Thank you....for everything." she spoke to him. She didn't really know what it felt like to be cared for. No one ever had for her, and she liked it.

    She showered and washed her hair taking care of all personal hygiene matters. She then got out and dried then dressed and combed her hair. It was a much brighter shade now, as was her skin where there weren't any bruises and marks.
  12. He was calmly cooking the dinner, standing seemingly lost in his own world as he focused on the food and the food only. He had no reason to do anything else. He wanted to make sure that she felt cared for, that she would feel comfortable and safe in his home. And he wanted to make sure that this child would be delivered safely and not be stillborn. That'd be the last drop for Kieara to take her life, and he did not want that.

    His thoughts wandered off and before he knew it, the dinner was almost ready and Kieara was possibly getting out of the shower fairly soon.
  13. Kieara sighed seeing all her bruises and scars. She'd been trying to look appealing for him, but it was no use. She sighed and exited waddling off towards the kitchen and finding him finishing up. She smiled and just watched him for a minute. He was so handsome and sweet.....who was she kidding? She didn't have a chance.

    She glanced at the food. That was odd....He seemed to have quite a talent with it. There were a lot of strange things such as that around here. She would have to learn more about him. She entered the room and spoke. "Hello again Cecil."
  14. "Hello, sit down, I've just finished cooking."
    He put the bowls containing the food on the dining table that had already been made for two people. He helped her sit down and then sat across her politely.
    "Go ahead. I wouldn't say I'm proud of my cooking but I manage." At the comment he smiled meekly and looked a little to the side. He wanted her to be happy but it wasn't every day he had company in his lonely house, let alone a female his age. But he had to think about other things. This girl had seen hell. He wouldn't want to add to that.
  15. She smiled and let him help her sit. "you're such a sweetheart." She complimented and watched as he sat across from her. "Nonsense it smells delicious." She answered to him berating his own cooking. She tasted it. "It does taste amazing." She smiled. She was starving. Perhaps it was the lack of food that made it taste so good, but either way it was still delicious. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?" She asked.
  16. As he took some food himself and began eating, he shrugged and looked out of the window.
    "I don't know really... I read poetry, and I like sewing and playing the violin. I live here on my own and I either hunt or sell designs or crafts for wealthy women in town. They like the blankets and dresses and stuff."
    He smiled slightly realizing he wasn't exactly the normal picture of a seventeen-year old in the current world. He felt a bit strange about talking about himself.
    "And you?"
  17. Kieara seemed to like that he was different. She spoke. "I think that is a nice change from today's standards." She admitted. "Myself?" she stared down into her food. "I am no one special....." She said and it was silent after that. She hadn't planned on saying anything beyond that. She'd had it beaten into her head all her life that she was no one, that she was only there to serve others.
  18. "Well you must be someone. So why don't you tell me; what kind of stuff did you like to do as a kid? Is there some things you still like to do."
    He smiled softly and looked at Kieara. He didn't want to make her feel like this. She was someone, and she had to know that. At least she needed to know that he thought of her as someone. He thought of her as a person, an individual to take care of.
  19. Kieara looked up at his words and questions. She didn't understand why he was so interested in her, nor why he'd want to take care of her. She thought about it. "Well, when I was a little girl, I never really got to go play or have fun like most kids. My father drank and he made me stay in the house. The longest I was ever outside, I was picking apples from the orchard." she admitted. "I do like to cook though." She said.
  20. "Then let's cook together from now on. I didn't know it was a hobby of yours."
    He smiles honestly as he finishes his dinner, sitting at the table across her. He didn't know what to say to her so he just smiled a little, trying to calm her down. He felt a little bad that she seemingly had a hard childhood as well. He wanted to make her feel happy but he felt unsure as to if that was possible for him.
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