Broken Wings

Charoum was on the floor, curled up, shaking and crying.  Her clothes were scattered, and from what he could see, she was a bit bruised up. He rushed over to her, and delicately pulled her into his arms. A bit of blood was clumped in her hair. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she flinched when he touched her.

 

"Shh...it's okay, it's me..." It was taking all he had to sound calm.

 

She opened her eyes, just enough to see him. She tried to speak, but it came out as a fresh batch of sobs.

 

"Shh, it's okay...you don't have to say anything..." Not wanting to have to set her on the floor, he gently, though awkwardly, held her while he put her clothes back on. She didn't react much, just cried and cried and cried.

 

Finally, he stood, and took her still trembling form back home. He wanted desperately to say something to make her feel better. Anything. Yet no matter how hard he tried, there were simply no words that could make the situation better.

 

He carried her to her room, and sat on her bed, still cradling her. …she likes being close to me…maybe I don’t need to say anything… He adjusted himself so he was leaning back against the headboard, and then pulled the blanket up over her and himself. Finally, he made himself look at her.

 

She had a blank, distant expression. Studying her, he noticed that she had bled out the side of her head, and the blood was still clinging to her hair. The bun that she always so carefully did up was frayed and barely held together. …You really did break your wings… But perhaps the most disconcerting thing was her silence. She hadn’t made a single sound since she had stopped crying.

 

“Charoum?” He whispered softly, trying to get her attention. She didn’t react at all.  He swallowed slightly. “Would you like to get a bath?” Still nothing, nothing at all. Her eyes seemed dull and almost lifeless. It was as if she wasn’t even there.

 

“Come on, let’s get a bath…” He gently cradled her, stood, and carried her into the bathroom. Inside, he delicately set her on the floor and turned on the water. The moment she was on the ground she began whimpering, but he ignored it until the water was at the right temperature.

 

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, gently pulling her into his arms again. When she was in his arms, she relaxed and closed her eyes. …she still doesn’t seem to be aware of what’s happening…but at least she seems to ‘recognize’ me… As carefully and unobtrusively as he could, he began undressing her.

 

She whimpered at first, but relaxed when he kissed her forehead. When he finished, he carefully lifted her and set her in the water.

 

He expected her to start panicking again, but the water comforted her. In fact, she started humming softly to herself. With a faint smile, he carefully began washing her. She didn’t react much to it; she seemed to be enjoying her song too much.

 

He finished with her hair, and retrieving the showerhead, carefully rinsed out her hair. She made a faint squealing sound, though it seemed mostly out of surprise.

 

Finishing up, he pulled out the stopper and very carefully pulled her out of the tub. He glanced at her expression and noted that her eyes were brighter, but she still wasn’t quite there. And though he tried his best not to, his eyes traced their way down her nude, wet body.

 

Mentally smacking himself, he got a towel and gently dried her off. She purred softly as he did so. It was an almost erotic sound, and he did his best to ignore it.

 

Wrapping the towel around her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back and set her on the bed. He pulled the towel away and gently tucked her under the covers. She stared up at him, eyes sparkling, as if she were expecting something.

 

“What is it, Charoum?” He asked softly, stroking her hair. Her gaze changed direction, and he glanced at what she was looking at.

 

A bookshelf.

 

“Would you like to hear a story?” He questioned, almost amused. She nodded eagerly, and he gently sat beside her. She wiggled over and rested her head on his lap, turning so she could look up at him. He stroked her hair while he thought, and eventually, he began.

 

“Um…a few hundred years ago, near a remote village, there stood a castle that belonged to the prince of that area. This prince was very selfish and self-absorbed, so much so that one Harmonia Eve, when an poor old beggar lady appeared at the castle’s door, he refused to give her a crumb of bread or a drop of water. She refused to leave, however, and after the third time that he refused to help her, she revealed her true form as the eldest goddess of Life. She turned the prince into a beast, and his entire household into everyday objects; she told the prince that this was because of his selfishness, and she gave him a rose. “To break the curse, you must find someone to truly love. If you feel true love for her, and she feels true love for you, and you both admit as much, then the curse will lift; however, if the last petal should fall before you admit your true love, then your house shall remain as this forever.” And like that, the goddess disappeared.

 

As the months passed, for each month that came and went, another petal from the rose fell off. After a few months, sometime in the spring, a lost old man appeared at the castle’s door. The beast prince’s good-hearted servants ushered him in and offered him food and lodging for the night, but the beast didn’t like the idea of someone sharing his castle. He roared at him and locked him up in the dungeon; when the old man’s daughter came looking for him, though, the prince was struck by her beauty, and he grudgingly made her a deal. If she would take her father’s place, he would let her father go and return home to the village; if she broke the deal, though, he would bring her and her father both back to the castle.

 

Being a kind girl, she agreed despite her father’s protests; the beast sent her father away and gave the girl her own room in the better part of the castle, away from the dungeons. Though the beast was always self-absorbed and wary around her, the girl began seeing something in him, and began to care for the good person she saw underneath the beastly skin. They became friends, and the beast found himself caring more and more for the girl each day that she stayed with him. He tried to show her how he cared in various ways; he showed her the huge library he had inherited, he gave her gifts in jewelry, and he allowed her to take whatever in the castle she wished for her own.

 

Though the castle was comfortable, and though everyone was kind to her, the girl soon began wishing to see her father. She begged the beast to let her return to her village, if only for a few days, and he reluctantly agreed. He gave her a magic ring and told her that when she was ready to return to the castle, she just had to twist a piece on the ring and she would be returned to her room. The girl agreed and left, and the beast felt more alone than he had in months.

 

When the girl returned a week later, she was followed by angry villagers who had heard the story of the disgusting beast from the girl’s father; she had tried to defend him, but no one would listen to her, and so she returned to try to warn the beast. Before they could leave the castle, though, several villagers got in and struck down the beast. As he lay on the ground bleeding and dying from the wounds, the girl came to him and held his head in her lap, and whispered that she would take care of him, that she would not let him die. Taking what he was sure was his last breath, the beast mumbled the words he had wanted to tell her all along; he told her, “I love you”, and he was very surprised to hear her repeat the words to him.

 

In an instant, the beast was returned to his original body, healthy and free of the wounds. As the girl watched in surprise, he took her hand and kissed it, and asked her to marry him. She agreed; they later married there in the castle, where their story together had begun, and they and their household lived in peace and happiness for the rest of their lives.”

 

She was asleep by the time he finished.  He watched for a moment before gently, touching the spot on her head where she had bled. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Slowly, the spot healed, and she sighed softly in her sleep.

 

The same process went for the rest of her injuries; fortunately they weren’t numerous. Afterwards, he watched her sleeping form. …I should leave…but I don’t want her to be alone… With a resigned sigh, he carefully laid down and pulled her into his arms.

 

I’ll help you find your wings...

Reviews

[*Kantola*]

Aw... This story is so had but nice at the same time. Grigori, you're a good dad/husband/boyfriend/brother/whatever you are :D.
HMMMMM
"He closed his eyes and concentrated. Slowly, the spot healed, and she sighed softly in her sleep."
IS HE A GOD, or just a very special being? HMMMM I WONDER!!!
He must be an imaginary number. All imaginary numbers are magical. MAGIC I SAY!!!
Good job with this story. I'm starting to become even more-so interested in it =D