forum Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

Started December 04, 2018 by @KalamariCakes

tune

He was crying now, hopes and dreams for the future trickling down the drain.

"Pierre," his lover rasped, "Pierre, focus on your breathing. Please, try to," she urged, trying so hard to keep her own demeanor collected.

What breathing? he thought; the air was gone from his lungs. But he tried anyways, tried for her. Because he would have done anything, anything at all, for her.

Edonine's eyes flicked incessantly from the pathway back to Pierre, whom she held the best she could, but had to let his feet drag. He could hear her heart through the binding and shirt, thumping quickly, and all the more comforting to hear.

"Ellis… that's a lovely name." Chadine complimented.

"John suggested it," Jane said softly, looking at her husband with an admiring look.

Edonine's eyes flicked incessantly from the pathway back to Pierre, whom she held the best she could, but had to let his feet drag. He could hear her heart through the binding and shirt, thumping quickly, and all the more comforting to hear.

The minutes dragged on, the scenery a blur of colour. Shouts, gunfire, it all faded into the background.

Edonine's eyes flicked incessantly from the pathway back to Pierre, whom she held the best she could, but had to let his feet drag. He could hear her heart through the binding and shirt, thumping quickly, and all the more comforting to hear.

The minutes dragged on, the scenery a blur of colour. Shouts, gunfire, it all faded into the background.

Was she singing, or was it a call to close his eyes? His own head..?

"Ellis… that's a lovely name." Chadine complimented.

"John suggested it," Jane said softly, looking at her husband with an admiring look.

Skip?

Strangely, his mother’s face swam across his mind’s eye. A woman he hadn’t seen in years.

Is this the end? he thought, Are you taking me to heaven?

"Pierre?" A voice spoke. Well, strangely, it was male. He sounded pretty urgent. "They got your shoulder pretty bad, eh, let me… get that wrapped up…"

Pierre could barely manage a nod, delirious from pain and loss of blood.

He'd feel Edonine's warm hands cup his sweaty cheeks, gentle and carressing, trembling all the more. "I love you.." she whispered to his foggy mind, "You'll come back to me.."

“I—“ His voice broke, though mainly from the dryness of his throat.

"Rest, now," she urged. She knew it would be better for him to be unconscious while the doctor treated his wound– if the would didn't kill, most times it was the pain of cleaning it that shocked many men to death.

Pierre could already feel the pull of utter exhaustion, the darkness beckoning to him…. but he could no longer tell if the darkness meant sleep or death. Before he could protest, his consciousness was slipping away…

Her kiss was his parting gift from the waking world. Now his dreams beckoned, out of the blanket of sensory nothingness– solidity, the smell of spearmint, and Edonine. For some reason at his home, walls covered with drying spearmint. His dream version of his fiancee turned and looked at him. "You're home,"

“Edonine—“ He scrambled to stand, but pain forced him to his knees instead, even in the dream.

She rubbed a hand across her stomach. "Don't say it. I'm always here," to his waking self, this would have made no sense. But now it resonated strongly inside him, for some abstract reason.

When he struggled to his feet, he found that the pain wasn’t so bad after all. Stumbling forward and ito her arms, he pulled her gently against him.

She curled herself against him, exhaling a happy noise.

Swaying slightly where he stood, Pierre clutched her to his chest. And, for some unknown reason, thoughts of an unborn child—their child—rose to mind.

"Can you hear it?" Edonine spoke quietly to him.

“Hear what?” he whispered back, eyes closed.

"You gotta listen deeper," dream Edonine spoke, rubbing her belly, "Listen here,"

(I love writing dreams, cos they're gonna get hella weird )

(lmao)

Pierre cocked his head to one side and strained his ears… and a tiny, burbling cry reached his ears. A cry of his own, one of joy, tore past his lips.