Work Text:
Jill's life had never once been normal. From the day she was born to the day she stepped foot on Rosarian soil, she knew that there was a duty she had to perform. A role she had to fit into, even if the shoes felt a size too big for her to handle. But maintaining a role was the least of her worries when it came to a war, or hanging on by a thread through sheer stubbornness and pure determination to see her life through.
She could still vividly recall the molten lava that scorched her lungs and itched at her skin with its heat when she had become the Iron Kingdom's prisoner. Nothing but the sweltering temper of the volcano to lull her to sleep. Even trying to recall bird song or the cooling breeze amongst azure skies had become a foreign entity to her. That was, until she reunited with Clive. And suddenly, her heart felt at ease. Breathing became easier when she stood at his side.
She no longer had to constantly scrub the grit of soot from her scalp or from underneath her finger nails with exertion. No longer had to use scalding water and the strong, harsh smelling soaps all the women had to share. Nor the fear of having to protect her own womanhood from being defiled by the incriminating hands of the Iron priests. Imreann's sickening laugh and cruel words would drone on in her head, making a mockery of her life as a Dominant of the Eikon of Shiva.
Jill would never forget what the kind hearted woman, Marleigh, did for her. Acting as a mother to her when her own was oceans apart. She could hardly recall what her mother’s countenance resembled, yet her sweet and lyrical singing voice was something she could remember fondly. The Northern lullaby about a lone deer being sheltered by its mother in a raging blizzard was a tale she taught to Marleigh as a part of her culture. It wasn’t as whimsical coming from her voice, but it was the effort she put forth that made all the difference.
She had so much to thank her for keeping her mind sane and her body healthy, and she hoped that somewhere out there, she was safe and living out the rest of her days in blissful contentment.
Exhaling a sigh, she scrunched up her sleeves and tied her hair up with her ribbon into a neat bun that sat atop her head. It kept the silver stray strands away and out of her eyes. Since it was cleaning day and Clive and her were embarking on new horizons, she had to clean out what little she had acquired over the years, or the ones she always kept of her personal effects. It was certainly a chore, but not one she felt was as tiresome as the ones she was forced to commit in her youth.
“Where is that little bugger?” Jill huffed as she stretched her arm as long and far as she possibly could underneath her bed to search for a particular leather bound journal. When her fingers brushed away dust and the webs of a spider, she felt the familiar wrinkled leather graze against her fingertips. “I’ve found you.”
Unraveling herself from her crouched and uncomfortably awkward position on the floor, she sat on the mattress and dusted off the remaining dust that clung to the faded maroon leather. Her fingers lightly shook, a spark of emotion welling within her chest as she smiled fondly down at the bound journal, which contained countless entries of her past. “Hello, old friend.”
To find her journal after a year of its absence had soothed a tender ache within her chest. She didn’t have the heart to scrape up the funds to own a new one with how invaluable the incredibly old and worn leather bound journal was. It had stayed with her ever since she was six years old, and the reason being why it held so much sentimentality to her, was because young Clive had been the one to bestow it unto her.
Jill eagerly tugged at the leather clasp holding it shut before unwinding the thin leather strap that wound around the journal itself. The old vellum had an old and familiar smell to it as she cracked open the cover and found her name written in a messy cursive on the inside. It brought a smile to her face to see how her young self used to curve her J’s with a flourish, or the way her C’s looked more like O’s and her L’s like a wide bubble.
“Despite it all, it’s a wonder I even managed to keep myself in high spirits.” Jill voiced quietly to herself as she turned the page and regarded the first entry. It detailed her first arrival to Rosaria after the fighting with the Northern Territories had come to a close.
854
Father says it is for the good of the people to keep the peace. I did not want to leave mother and father, but if it is in the interest of our home, then I will do my duty. I will put on a brave face and see to it that I do whatever I can to secure a place in this new and foreign land. Though I laid awake at night and cried upon my first arrival, sometime in the night, a boy with raven hair and bright blue eyes came to my bedside and introduced himself as Clive Rosfield. A few years older than I, he told me not to cry and that if I needed a friend, I could depend on him. As of right now, I am writing in this journal he gave to me. He said that it helps to write down your feelings and it somehow makes things a bit better. I think it is helping. Clive is kind and friendly, and I think he and I will soon become fast friends.
Even at the tender age of six, Jill had been affluent in the written word from her days of reading many of the books within the halls of her home kingdom, and that of her own lessons on how to curate letters, even if her own handwriting was messy and hard to decipher.
Jill turned the page, another detailed entry of her meeting with Joshua and the Archduke of Rosaria. Another where she described Anabella’s cruelty over calling Jill a northern savage and how she needed to be properly trained to be a true lady. She gritted her teeth at the memory.
Others during that year were moments of Clive, Joshua, and herself, spending moments together in the library, or out in the courtyard where they would watch Rodney train with Clive. Those entries felt like she was stepping back in time to a world before chaos struck and their lives changed forevermore.
858
Clive and I got out of our lessons early today. I got a harsh scolding from his mother for expressing an interest in taking up the sword, saying I was only further nurturing the bloodthirsty savage she believes my people to be. Well, that’s simply not the case. Women are revered as champions for wielding a sword. Heroes, like in the stories Clive reads to me. I want to be a hero like those ladies and prove Miss Anabella wrong. And so, I went to Clive and told him that I want to do lessons. He was actually really excited when I expressed an interest in swords and knights, especially after we reenacted The Saint and the Sectary for the play at the Festival of Flames. We had to be cautious and secretive, so Clive snuck me out in the middle of the night to practice with wooden swords. I could hardly hold a block or a parry, but Clive is a good teacher and he showed me the basics. I think I like his smile when he’s happy. I hope he continues to smile.
It almost pained her to read the last sentence. How many years had Clive stopped smiling? Felt joy? Been at peace? Those years must have been pure torture, but in a way, she understood his grievances. With a heavy heart and a tremble lingering in her fingers, she turned the page again to see the events of the Night of Flames unfold in her less messy and more elegant handwriting of only twelve summers old.
860
I hope that Clive returns. I prayed to Metia that night on the balcony with Clive at my side that he would have safe travels and be well. Clive is very important to me.
The ink smudged the next few words, blotted by tears that sunk into the aged vellum.
It’s all too terrifying to think about, so I’m curling myself tightly into my blankets and praying with all my heart that the night is short and the day is long. I pray that we win this fight and we can go back to laughing over Torgal doing silly tricks, Joshua doing his animal impressions, and Clive reading to me as I doze off with my head on his shoulder. I pray. I pray. I pray. Metia, Founder, please, I beg of you. Bring them home to me.
Tears welled up in Jill’s eyes. The memories of the past slamming into her with full force. That night had been the most excruciating, painful, and nightmarish time in all her life. It wasn’t long after Rosaria was raided by the Iron Kingdom, stealing her away and making her a prisoner in the heated depths of Ironholm. Home to the Iron Priests and their evil machinations and cultist beliefs for The Mother .
Her fingers gripped tightly to the leather cover, her breathing harsh as she glanced down at the first words of her entry into captivity.
861
I hate him. Hate. Hate. Hate. He’s deplorable. Disgusting. Anything to describe the utter revulsion I feel towards Imreann. I didn’t even realize how bad it would be to be captured by the Iron Kingdom and what they did to the young woman. I had often been scared by Anabella when I was in Castle Rosalith with how she tried to put fear into my heart about what they did to untainted maidens. But thank the Founder I have Shiva to thank for saving me from being defiled and disgraced. I made a bloody mess of their flesh for even attempting to touch me. They will not make the same mistake again.
I don’t think I’ve cried as much as I have since I was six years old. It’s my thirteenth summer, and here I am spending it in the clutches of the most foul men in existence. I’m scared and I’m tired and I’m wounded. Writing in this journal is all that has kept me sane, and the promise of one day seeing Clive. I hope he keeps smiling. I hope he doesn’t lose himself. I hope he’s thinking of me as I am of him in my moments of duress. I miss you, Clive. I hope I can see you again one day.
Jill blinked back tears at the vivid memories that lurked in the recesses of her conscience. Ones she had sealed away for her own sanity, now were blatantly written across the page. Not as detailed as the ones she recalled, but it was enough to make her skin crawl and her stomach to churn with discomfort.
“I hope he’s rotting.” Jill hissed with utter vexation. It was not enough that he died by her own hand, but that he rot wherever his soul resided and that he did not know peace. He deserved the worst.
Clenching her eyes shut tight, she took in a long, calming breath to settle her nerves before venturing further into the tales of her past.
865
So much bloodshed. My hands are so scarred and bloodied with the hands of innocents that I cannot tell what is mine and what is theirs. I hate that I have become their weaponized puppet. And since I am considered an abomination and am therefore sullied, his attention lies elsewhere on another woman to sow... Just the thought of it makes me want to retch. I wish I could save these women and use the power of Shiva to execute their assailants. Use a sword to run them through, just like they make me do on the battlefield. If only I could break these chains and make them truly regret the day they brought me here. If it wasn’t for Marleigh and her everlasting kindness and motherly grace, I would have gone down a far different path. But my day will come. I will get my revenge. Not only for myself, but for all the women and children. I will have your head, Imreann.
The tears were flowing freely now, drops falling onto the page and making marks anew. She remembered how scared she was. How Shiva had come out to protect her each and every time she was in peril. She had her Eikon to thank for that, even when magic had been drained from the world of Valisthea itself, she still fondly held onto the cooling touch of Shiva’s spirit within her.
Her heart only seemed to ache the further she read into her past. The ungodly deeds she had to commit in order to keep Imreann and his Priests from lashing out and whipping her relentlessly for being such an unclean monster. Not even a woman in his eyes, but a beast wearing the skin of a maiden.
Jill nearly shut the journal and tossed it to the floor when her eyes briefly glanced over the words reunion and Clive’s own name. Swallowing back the bile in her throat, she continued forth and faced the passage with bated breath.
873
I should have been dead. For a beast like me, it is a fitting end to the horrors I have committed in Shiva’s name. The blood coating my hands and the countless names I have not forgotten of those I have slain. I thought the man to face me on that battlefield was Death itself, clothed in blackened steel and eyes that almost spoke of a familiarity that made my heart yearn for something long lost. I was ready to face my end. I was ready to let Death serve as the one to be the hand that dealt my fate, but even as I fell into darkness, I reawakened to an unfamiliar place. The Physicker, Tarja, her name was, told me how she had brought me back from the brink of death. Told me that Clive would never forgive himself if he had killed me, and that he’s been like a lost puppy without being able to see Her Ladyship. It only dawned on me moments later that Death had not come for me, but an old friend in its place. Clive.
The Clive I knew as a child, only now his face was battle hardened and the awful brand staining his skin with its mark across his left cheek. He did not smile as he arrived and spoke with Tarja, but as soon as he locked his eyes on me, it was as if time had not passed. There was the smile of the boy I knew, but with the added underlying heartache of whatever he had to endure serving under the empire. It was enough. Being alive and knowing Clive was too is enough.
Holding onto Clive and feeling the warmth of his body pressed to mine felt like a dream. Those beautiful blue eyes of his were haunted by the demons of his past and the weight of what happened at Phoenix Gate. Clive believes he killed Joshua, but I know he could never be capable of such an act. I held tightly to his hands with all my might. I may be older now, but my heart has grown fonder and has not yet forgotten my feelings for him.
It is not too late, but our reunion is fresh and I must not be too hasty. In due time I will tell him what lies within my heart.
It took her nearly eighteen summers to reveal to Clive what lay dormant within her heart. It was almost painful how long she had yearned for Clive, especially as she read several detailed passages as the years went on of her quiet and lovesick musings of how she dreamed of what she’d say to Clive, or how she would go about expressing herself physically if words would not suffice.
Jill felt the warmth cling to her cheeks as she brushed over with the tips of her fingers the hand drawn hearts that littered the pages. It was amateur at best, but she never claimed to be an artist of any kind. Her creative spark lay within the needle work she did alongside Hortense. That alone was enough.
But just as Jill began glossing over the pages of another entry, a pair of strong and sturdy arms wrapped around her middle, the musculature of a chest pressing into the flat of her backside. A stubbled chin sat atop her shoulder, tickling the slope of her neck. She could feel his breath bush against her cheek, the warmth of his smile pressing into the curve of her jaw.
“Lost in reverie?” The rough baritone of his voice rumbled against her throat, which elicited a delighted laugh to part from her lips.
“A time or two, yes.” Her voice was soft yet sheepish. Her fingers sought out his own with a free hand, quick and nimble as she gingerly pried one calloused hand from her middle to thread his fingers with hers. The warmth gave her balance and peace. Anywhere that Clive would be, felt like home to her. “Would you care to revel in my tales of youth? It’s rather embarrassing with how these writings of mine are nothing but hopeless love letters that I once wanted to impart to you, Clive.”
Clive hummed, a cheerful chuckle shaking his frame. “I would be honored to hear what my lady had thought of me in her lonesome.”
Jill bit down on her lip, the grin at the corners of her mouth stretching so wide that a flutter of laughter escaped. “You would not think me to be too trite or lovesick?”
Her answer was in the form of his lips pressing to her pulse point. “Never, my lady .”
Jill tilted her head to the side, her stormy gaze flickering to the vibrant sapphire blues that sucked her into a trance. His lips hypnotizing as they settled instantly onto her own, the warmth of his breath and the hot flick of his tongue made a shiver race down her spine. She still got butterflies running amok within her belly each and every time Clive kissed her in such a sweet and timid way. It had been nearly a year to the day that they spent a moment of passion upon the shores of Ash on the Shadow Coast. The exchanging of their hearts, burning desire, and the promise of looking upon the moon with kiss-bruised lips.
Once Jill broke away from the kiss, her breath wonderfully labored as his own, she tore her gaze back to the journal. Clive’s fingers followed her own, the heavy calluses that covered each digit, slid along the back of her hand before threading between the spaces of her fingers where he let them rest.
875
I’m not sure how much longer I can deal with these burning feelings locked away within my chest. His laughter brings light to my life like no other, and his smile has made me want to strive to live out my days at his side, so that I may protect its beauty. He is a treasure like no other. If I were a dragon like in the tales of my youth, I will do everything within my power to hoard every precious memory I can make with him. We’ve had our moments of not so subtle glances, and sometimes I think he’s gazing longingly at my lips as I am with his own. It makes me hope that I’m not being senselessly perverse by yearning for him. It makes me hope that he yearns for me too. The Hideaway is already making quips every chance they can get about Clive and I, saying that we act like a married couple, or why we aren’t already betrothed. But if Clive is not quite ready for me yet, then I will not pressure him. I will wait for as long as it takes, even if it has to be another year or five. I will wait for you as long as you like, Clive. I love you dearly. I want to scream it from the highest point of The Hideaway, not caring what others will say about how I feel for you.
I love your smile. I love your determination and your kindness. I love you, even when the moon one day fails to glow in the night sky, I will love you forevermore. Pardon me if you ever get the chance to read this embarrassing ramble of mine. I’m just practicing in case I do get the chance to tell you.
Founder, spare her, it was more embarrassing than she previously imagined. The hearts were even more prominent in this entry. The ink bled through the pages, and every “I” was dotted with a small heart. She was dangerously smitten back then. It didn’t help that Clive was reading over her shoulder, his thumb brushing circles along every knuckle. The rumble of his laughter was a sure sign that he was delighted by her ridiculously arduous and verbose musings.
“Honest opinion?” Clive posed, which made Jill hum in sheepish response. “I’m flattered you thought of me so passionately and thoughtfully. It makes me feel a bit flustered if I’m honest.”
Jill’s cheeks flushed, the heat trailing down the column of her throat. Her heart thumped an erratic rhythm at allowing Clive to read her every vulnerable and raw thought and emotion. It took her a moment to gain her bearings, but once she was ready, she began with, “I imagine flustered is a good sign, yes?”
Clive pressed a kiss to the mole hidden behind her left ear. His fingers gingerly brushed back her silver tresses to further expose her throat and part of her collarbone and shoulder. “Entirely. I had no idea you kept a journal all these years.”
Jill bit the inside of her cheek as she flipped the journal to show to Clive the worn leather cover. She couldn’t see his eyes from the angle she was seated, but she could certainly feel it in the way his fingers clenched hers, while the other she had readily forgotten was replaced by a prosthetic, metal hand. It had always been a sensitive topic whenever it was brought up, especially with how Clive felt ashamed and inferior of his former hand for not being as intimately engaged as he used to prior to losing his hand to the Crystal curses rot.
“I’m just as surprised that this journal has survived through storms, ice, and fire ever since I was six summers old when you gave me this gift.” Jill mused sweetly. She took his gaping silence as an opportunity to reach down with her free hand to grip his metal wrist and brought it up to her lips to press a kiss to the iron knuckles. It was cold and cool, and she was well aware that Clive had little sense in the ligaments, even though Mid was trying her damndest to figure out a way to obtain total feeling, Jill made it her mission to treat his hand as if it was flesh made.
“Jill, I’m at a loss for words. I just…” Clive’s voice was thick with emotion, seemingly unaware that she had treasured a simple journal for years long. “I’m glad that I was able to give you this form of escape. That a part of me was with you always, even when you felt alone and beside yourself with grief and unbearable heartache.”
Jill squeezed his own fingers tightly this time. Her lips pressed even more tender and feather light kisses to his metal fingers, stopping just where skin met metal below his wrist. “It brought me more peace than you could ever hope to know, Clive.” Her eyes burned with on-coming tears, her throat forming a lump from how she swallowed to abade them for a moment longer. “But I want you to know of my years, my feelings and my past within these passages. Down to every gritty and arduous detail.”
Clive pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear as he gently pried his metal hand from hers before sliding it lower to wrap back around her middle and pull her flush against his back. “I am here, Jill. I’m not going anywhere.”
The relieved laughter that flew from her lips felt like pressure releasing. She felt lighter, bolder, as she flipped through the years in-between before Kanver. The writing was far more hasty, the cursive almost indistinguishable.
878
I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to tell Clive the moment we return from Kanver. I’ve had more than enough time to lament over what could possibly happen if Clive were to reject me, but the yearning is slowly killing me. I cannot wait any longer, and with how much of Shiva’s power I continue to utilize, I do not know how many years I have left before I am taken by the Crystal’s curse. If Clive knows, even if he doesn't love me the same, I will be content with the thought that he knew. And if he does hold love in his heart for me, then I will be ever overjoyed.
Wait for me, Clive.
Tears that Jill was not prepared to shed, trickled down her cheeks. She knew what came next. Nearly losing Clive to Barnabas, unsheathing Shiva to protect him from his wrath while Joshua aided his brother in the escape. Only that led to her capture. She felt her shoulders shake with the gravity of it all, her eyes far too watery to read the pain in her words on the pages she had noted down. The blotches of her tears stained the pages, making the ink spread out like a spider’s webbing.
“I have you, Jill.” Clive whispered comfortingly into her ear. “You’ve held onto so much and been strong for so long. You are allowed to cry. I will hold you until you’ve run out of tears to shed.”
“Clive…” His name parted her lips so quietly, almost broken on an exhale. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Clive hugged her firmly, pressing her as tightly to his broad frame as he possibly could. “I’m glad you’re here, too, Jill.”
Clive’s gentle and slow breathing calmed her. She closed her eyes, focusing on every inhale and exhale from his chest to properly time it with her own harsh breathing. It took a time or two before she was finally able to come back down from nearly choking on another sob. Another minute before she was able to open her eyes again and turn the page. The fluidity and elegance returned to her penmanship. The hearts returned to the page, yet they were less extravagantly scattered compared to her previous entries where she gushed about her feelings for Clive. This time, it felt more intimate. There was a single, cutely shaped heart at the bottom of the page.
878
Words cannot begin to describe the sheer amount of joy and happiness that is bursting out from within my chest. I cannot fathom the ways that I simply am. I don't even think I have been this happy in years. Granted, it took a lot of emotional turmoil between Clive saving me from the Einherjar, to nearly losing our lives again to the crashing waves after our stand with Barnabas, but we made it. We survived. We arrived on the shore of the Shadow Coast, leeched of warmth and frozen down to the bone. Making a campfire was not easy, especially as we shucked off our soaking garments and laid them against the rocks to dry. Sitting back to back to conserve body heat was the only way. But that night, in that very moment, we became vulnerable. I threw caution to the wind and told Clive all that had rested in my heart for years. All that I had wanted to convey, but never had the courage to do so. It was at that moment that I made the choice to surrender Shiva’s power to Clive. It felt more intimate than anything I had ever done. But even as I felt Shiva dwindle and the heavy burden of the Crystal’s Curse slough off my shoulders, I felt lighter. Even with her parted from me, I could still feel her cooling presence wrapped around me. It was like she was telling me that everything was going to be okay. And with the last remaining shred of my self doubt, I let Clive see my emotions clearly. Hearing him call my own smile something to give him so much joy had filled my own heart with the selfsame joy.
It was that night I finally felt his lips press to my own. To feel what the strength and warmth of his body felt like as it slid with a harmonious rhythm against mine. His breath and heartbeat linked with mine. His name a cry upon my lips as we made love upon the sands of the coast. It did not matter at the moment that I had sand in very unmentionable places, but the morning after I could not wait to jump into the ocean, pulling Clive alongside with me to wash away the previous night's revelries.
I love you, Clive Rosfield. I should have told you ages ago, but I am now. And I will continue to tell you until my final days.
I love you.
Instead of feeling as flustered as she expected herself to be upon Clive reading over her shoulder, she felt nothing but warmth and contentment. She felt Clive’s smile pressing against her cheek, followed by a couple incoherent mumblings of what she could only discern were words of endearment.
“You’re such a romantic in your entries.” Clive mused in jest, his smile evident in every instance where his lips continued to make a trail down the line of her jaw.
Jill bit her lip, an airy laugh escaping her. “A trade I picked up whilst reading a romantic novel here or two. It just so happened to find its way into my lap.”
Clive hummed. “I would much rather like to be in your lap.”
Jill bumped her shoulder against him, a snort of laughter sounding in the back of her throat. “Later, you fiend.”
“Oh? I’m a fiend now?” Clive probed with an air of mischief.
Jill rolled her eyes as she turned to gaze at him, raising a hand to place it underneath his chin where her fingers settled against his jaw and her thumb tilting his head up just so. “I find it quite humorous that I am usually the one to instigate, but to find you being the one to do so is a welcoming surprise.”
Clive chuckled faintly, the glimmer of pure joy radiated in his sapphire gaze. “Joshua thought as much the night I told him of how I took in the power of Shiva. Your Eikon. He thought I did so without your right to choose. He thought I was taking on the responsibility to save the world all on my own, and maybe I was.” His eyes darkened, the smile faltering at remembering his fallen brother. The one she also missed dearly with every passing day. “I thought it was the only way, or what I believed was right.”
Jill shook her head, her fingers feathering out to fully cup his cheek. “You did no such thing. That’s not like you to just take without proper consent.” She paused for a given time, worrying her lips before continuing. “But I can understand where Joshua was coming from. He’s always been protective, even when we were children. Even when he was fighting with his illness, he did everything to stand up for me when it came to Anabella’s cruelty, and I’ll forever be grateful for his kindness.”
Pain stirred inside of her chest. It was an ache that still felt tender and fresh, and she knew above all else that Clive shared the same scar upon his heart as she did. It took everything within her not to start tearing up again, so she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. “I think if I had spoken to him to explain to him that it was my choice alone, he would have understood. And I think in a way, he was not only protecting me, but protecting you as well from doing something reckless.”
Jill looked up into his eyes, the glimmer of what she would only describe as a wave waiting to crash onto land with how emotion clouded his vision. “You were never alone, Clive. You will never be alone. That’s why you have your friends, your brother, and me.”
Clive bit down on his lip, the redness around his eyes growing as a couple tears slipped free. She never meant to make him cry, but even as he did, she turned in his arms to properly sit in his lap with the journal tucked between her thighs. She peppered his face in gentle, feather-light kisses. Even as the tears streaked down his face, she pressed her lips to the wet spots and kissed them clean away. Not once letting go of his face as she softly whispered to him with endearment.
“I’m so glad I was able to find you again.” Clive whispered on a broken sob, while his own lips found hers and kissed her with gentle reverence.
“And I’m glad you came back to me.” Jill smiled against his lips, her hand reaching down to press her palm and fingers into the staccato beat of his heart against his heaving chest. “I will always be here, as well as Joshua. If you ever feel lost, you need only search here.”
Clive sniffled, inhaling deeply as he turned up to press a hard kiss to her brow. “Thank you, Jill.”
“I will heed your call whenever you’re in need of me.” Jill vowed with a final kiss to his lips. “But as for my entries, I believe that is all I had.”
Clive turned his gaze to her, his own hands searching for hers that went back to the journal to flip the page to a blank one. “You haven’t written in it since then?”
Jill shrugged her shoulders. “I felt as though I had no need for more entries, or at least ones I could just detail to you in person, but maybe it is time I began anew.”
Clive’s smile returned, albeit with a suspicious glint that she couldn’t quite glean the reason for. “I think I have one in mind.”
Jill shot him an equally saccharine smile. “Care to explain to me your latest ploy?”
Clive leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss between her brows. “Only if you close your eyes first, Jill.”
Jill did just that. Clive’s hushed laughter gave her little indication to whatever grand scheme he had awaiting her beyond her closed lids. She heard shuffling, felt the shifting of his hips against her thighs as he seemed to adjust himself accordingly. She felt the words burning on the tip of her tongue, urging her to let them be set upon the world for them to be given an answer to, but she ultimately relented and bit down on the inside of her cheek.
Jill allowed Clive to continue, shivering at the feeling of his fingers feathering a light path down the length of her arm before meeting with her fingers that had unconsciously threaded themselves together within her lap. Clive was as delicate and ginger as ever as he pried her fingers apart, only to slip something cold and metallic on her left hand’s ring finger. She gasped.
“Clive--”
“Jill.” Clive began firmly, a waver in his tone that beckoned a sense of uncertainty and conviction intertwined. She held her breath, the tears already burning behind her closed lids. “Now that our lives have some semblance of calm, I wanted to tell you just how much I love you before it was too late. And that, I want you to continue to journal to your heart's content, starting with sharing our lives together.”
Jill couldn’t wait any longer as she sprung up from her sitting position to twirl within his arms, her lithe arms wrapping around his neck to bring her mouth down upon his in a soul-binding kiss. She couldn’t help the deep, rumbling laughter that bubbled up from her throat and breathed against his mouth. Clive shared in her pure and unadulterated joy, his arms curling around her waist, fingers smoothing into the fine contours of her backside. He shared her every breath, tasting the cinnamon sugar of his late breakfast on his tongue as she indulged in him without a scant regard for her own self conscious mind as she whole-heartedly gave herself up to him, body and soul.
Only when had she begun to feel the dizzying sensation from nothing but true bliss did she pull away to see Clive’s own eyes puffy and red, tears streaking down his flushed cheeks. “I didn’t even get to ask you the question.”
Jill laughed, the sound broken and sonorous from lack of breath and emotion. “You didn’t have to. I knew in your heart what you wanted to ask me all along.”
Jill gleaned as Clive brought her hand up to his lips, newly embellished with the sign of his affections sitting upon her ring finger. A lovely golden band with a snow daisy cast in amber. It caught the light easily, sparkling like the first rays of early morning sunlight.
“But I suppose I’ll grant you the honor of asking me.” Jill added as she took his hand within her own. “I want to hear you speak the words.”
Clive’s eyes seemed to gleam with tender warmth as he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the ring upon her finger. “Jill Warrick, light of my life and my partner in all things an outlaw is capable of,” Clive rose onto his feet before sinking to the floor to kneel on one leg. “I ask you now if you’d do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Light-hearted laughter burst from within her chest, the tears streaming down her cheeks faster than she could reach up to brush them away. Her cheeks hurt from how wide her smile pulled across her mouth, but it mattered little with the abundance of raw happiness that sprung within her heart.
“Clive Rosfield.” Jill stated at first, sniffing back the tears to no avail as she gently got onto her knees and cupped his face with trembling hands. “I would be more than delighted to become your wife, and you, my beloved husband to be.”
Clive joined in with her laughter, the squeak of her surprise alighting her senses as he scooped her up into his arms and spun her around the small space. He found her lips shortly, kissing her with the promise of the future and life they were so dearly owed.
“I cannot wait to spend every waking moment with you.” Clive vowed between her lips, shaking with quiet laughter. “I promise to protect your smile and the joy that fills your heart.”
Jill kissed him hard before leaning her brow against his. “I promise to do the same. Your smile, your laugh, I will cherish you always and forever.”
That morning spelt the beginning of their now effervescent lives, completely free of damnation had the solitude it would have brung had Ultima seen to his plans. And with the rising glow of the golden sun in the sky, Jill began her latest diary entry in over a year to mark the start of a beautiful future with her endearing Outlaw.
879
Life takes you in directions you would never have expected it to. With this journal, it has seen life and death, heart-wrenching goodbyes and joyous reunion both. If it were not for you, Clive, I would have never ended up with you to keep guard over my heart. I have survived this long to find you, and I will do so in every lifetime, no matter the distance.
You are my treasure, my star, and I will always love you. This is to our future, and to the family we will one day harbor in this lifetime. Together.
Yours forevermore,
Jill