BTW - Restless

Restless

As Fall and the beautiful sight of red leaves started to fade, the wedding day was only two weeks away.




In summer, Elena had been to the South for a few weeks to discuss about the wedding ceremony and help with the preparation. She and her fiance was going to get married at the King’s palace. Israel, the elder priest who was to conduct the ceremony, and his wife Inbal,  gave her a brief lecture how it was going to be. Although, people of the south were weird, the wedding sounded very much simple and normal.


“You don’t have to be nervous because no one here really cares about the formality. No one knows how the real wedding should be. Neither do us. Even if you missed something, they wouldn’t notice.” Inbal gave her an understanding smile.


“No, they wouldn’t. Because they don’t care how you two become husband and wife. They will attend the ceremony just to see the General being collared by a little sweet lady. They will think, ‘God bless me and the country, that pain in the ass finally settles down for goodness’s sake.’” Israel chuckled. His talking style sounded not at all like a high priest. But he seemed very kind and easygoing. “Everyone wants to see Stan lose that cocksure face of his. Of course, for being captured by you. He shows his soft side.”


Elena smiled, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen him being shy.”


“Neither have we! That’s why we want to see.” Israel said. “His whole army will be there and try every method available to embarrass their ever high-and-mighty commander. Rest assured, lady. It will be real fun.”


Despite indicating non-stop that the General was a troublemaker, the old couple seemed to adore him at some extent. According to her husband-to-be, Elena often imagined that he was surrounded by enemies. When she told the couple about it, they laughed.


“You know, no one here really hates one another.” Israel said. “Yes, people kill a lot but it isn’t always for hatred. In your country, if you killed you’d get severely punished. So, if you came to the thought of killing somebody, you might hate him very much. But here, oh young lady,  we can kill as much as we say good morning. And we’ll get away with it real sweet with a beam and blood soaked on our faces. We kill because, who knows, ask two dogs why they fight and you’ll find the most accurate answer.”


This place was full of weirdos.

********

Elena had gotten back home to pack her belongings. The Queen said that she’d go to the South with Elena so General had no need to come all the way here to escort his fiancee back to the South for the wedding. He listened. But he came anyway.


‘In case, your queen wouldn’t let you go.’


But he hardly was with her or at home. He either went to town or tended to Amber, the horse he had given her. Even though, the wedding was approaching, nothing changed. He still addressed her as ‘milady’. So she called him ‘milord’ in return. He didn’t seem bothered by it. But it bothered her a hell lot. Except from formal dancing and helping her get up or get down a horse, he had never touched her. He didn’t embrace her nor hold her hands. Nothing.


Well. This might be something to expect of a gentleman. But, since he didn’t initiate it, she felt that she wasn’t allowed to touch him either. She didn’t dare to.


But.


Holding hands.


For Christ’s sake, milord. Are you impotent or what?


On his fourth day in the North, Stanley said he wanted to go to the graveyard where Ann was buried they both had gone to several years before. Elena said she was going with him. He didn’t protest. They mounted the horses at noon, galloped through the wood and reached their destination when the sun began to set.


Different from the last time they came, the sky was clear and, although the cold wind blew, the snow hadn’t yet piled up. Stanley brought a crimson rose like the last time. He got down on his knees, delivered the flower to Ann’s grave. He told her, told Ann, about Elena. That the witch was going to be his wife. Elena watched as he kissed his fingers and placed them on the tombstone saying goodbye to Ann and promised to pay a visit again.


The sun hadn’t yet handed the sky to nightfall. It was obvious that they could go home. But when General suggested they could stay at the chateau for the night, Elena agreed.


“I should bring you a toy. Like the last time.” He smiled, flashing his teeth.


“You don’t have to give me anything. Because what belongs to you will eventually be mine, too, in two weeks.”


“Oh, that’s right.” He laughed. He didn’t talked back.


Whether he detected her sulkiness or not, he chose to keep on showing his good mood. Smiling, listening, pleasing and optimistic. Which was a lie. Elena knew that the real Stanley was nothing near smiling, listening, pleasing and optimistic gentleman. She knew who he was. The General was cunning, corrosive and biting. You could see his venomous fangs and hear his Chimera’s roar from a mile away.


Elena called this a good-boy mode. While he was in this mode, he’d always smile. He wouldn’t tease Elena and would initiate a conversation with anybody if he need to. When they had gone to visit her cousins in the West, he always stayed in the good-boy mode. He got along with everybody and promptly showed remorse whenever someone talked about the Southern tradition of cruelty. He almost sounded like a politician. On top of that, he didn’t made her feel uncomfortable nor made her blush. When Elena asked him why he hadn’t impressed her cousins with his usual smartass, he said, ‘I don’t want to be turned into a frog.’


She admitted to herself that she felt lonely when he wasn’t himself. A bloody sadistic and stubborn son of a bitch who was clever in the sense of trickery and loved playing mind games.


Oh, or this good-boy mode was one of his tactics to lure her into a mind game?


It was likely. She saw clearly in her head that wonderful devilish grin of his. But she admired it much more than a good-boy smile he was wearing right now.


Elena rubbed her face.


It sounds just like I’m a masochist.

*********

The stay went smoothly. Stanley did nothing as always. But he felt more at home than the last time. He tossed away his long coat, walked around en famille and picked a book about old curses from a bookshelf. While she was cooking for them both, he sat and read the book at the kitchen’s table.


“You are in the way, milord. Why don’t you go read that book in the living room?” Elena crossed her arms across her chest.


Stanley glanced briefly at her then turned his interest back to the book. He said quietly. “I’ll be here.”


“Why? Are you afraid of being alone like a little boy?”


He lifted his brow. “You want to know the truth?”


Elena nodded.


Her fiance regarded her and lifted the corner of his lips. “I love watching you cook. I’ll be here.”


Elena felt the heat climbing to her cheek. There was no mirrors in the kitchen but she was hundred percent sure that her face was bright red right now because the General, with a smirk on his satisfied face, added, “They should put what I just said in this book, you know, the spell to turn someone to a red-masked parakeet.”


“Whatever.” Elena murmured then went back to cooking. She tried so hard to express that she wasn’t in the least thrilled by his affection.


More than the affection, she was thrilled by his last comment.


He’s back. Oh, God, he’s back.


The smartass is back.


The dinner had been served and the food had been eaten. Stanley offered to wash the dishes but, of course, Elena wouldn’t ever allow him to help out with chores. It was woman’s duty. Not of a man. Not of the man who held the supreme command of the South.


Any woman would cry out of joy if any man offered some help around the house while some would feel terribly offended being forced by men to do chores. But she felt that these, such as cooking and doing the dishes, were her duties. He had his. Stanley would work. He would tend to the horses and livestock. He would take care of the property and his servants.


And he could concentrate on making her happy.


After dinner, the General stretched out in front of a fireplace in the living room, listening to Elena, who sat beside him, spelling some curses from the book.


“All of these spells are ridiculous.” Elena said. “I have never heard any one of them.”


“They aren’t real curses?” Stanley turned his upper half to face her. “Thanks God. If they were real, I’d become a bloody monster right now. You had cast twenty three spells on me already. And I remember that one of them is the werewolf spell.”


She turned another page. “I will do it. I’m looking for the right spell.”


“Like what?”


Elena looked at his childish smile. “Like a love me spell?”


“Oh, no.” He lay on his back again, laughing. “You have already bewitched me with that.”


“Or a touch me spell?”


The laughter stopped short. But a smile still lingered on his face. He looked at her. “No, Elena, not now. We can wait until we get married.”


The wife-to-be blushed under the shadow of the flame.


“I didn’t mean…. that…” Elena protested. “I mean, you don’t even hold my hand. Does holding hands have to wait until we get married too?”


Stanley smiled. “I’m sorry.” And then, he extended his right hand for her to place her palm on. He wrapped his fingers around her smaller hand. There was no hesitation in the grip. There was not one hint of romance involved either. It was like he did that just to calm her down.


“And…” Elena whispered. “Does kissing have to wait until we exchanged marriage vow too?”


He loosened the grip. “Now, now you are crossing the line.”


“Are you my father or what?” She asked, not trying to hide her irritation that had been stocking up.


“I’m your fiance, Lady. Kissing is discouraged.” He kept on his lecture.


“Why?” She asked.


He opened his mouth. But Elena pointed to his face first. “If you are going to tell me that you are afraid to be turned into a frog, save it. Just save it.”


Stanley seemed amused. He, then said with a firm voice. “Let me show my respect this way.”


“But you have ever kissed someone, haven’t you?”


He was silent.


It wasn’t like Elena hadn’t heard about his affairs. His liaisons with the Queen’s maids and noblewomen weren’t unfamiliar to most. It was more like a fact than a rumor. When Elena visited the South, a maid bluntly told her about it and assured her that the General only allowed himself to have a one night stand with a voluntary partner only when he had not a girlfriend. If he was in relationship, he would be God damned faithful.


But his past activities were not at all her concern. She knew he was a good man. He always keep his word and would be faithful to her. What pissed her off for a great extent was that he acted unnaturally around her. He wasn’t himself around her where he should be himself the most. She was grateful that Stanley was cherishing her but it was overdone. Even now that she was asking, yes, she’s asking, he still refused to do it, leaving her embarrassed.


Is this one of his mind games too?


“You know. Like Joanne. All of the maids I know bragged about their first kiss in their teens.”


“You want to brag about it too? How old are you?”


She rolled her eyes at his attempt to change the topic. “I might be five hundred year old. After all, I’m a witch.”


He laughed.


Oh, whatever.


She ended the conversation in one word. “Fine.”


She wanted to say more but she knew so well that offending this man was unwise. It’d make thing worse.


The witch grabbed the book, got up and returned the book to the bookshelf. Still pouting, she put the book into the shelf with all of her strength.


She heard the sound of a body shifting on the floor and sound of footsteps. She turned around, slowly, as she knew that he wasn’t far. The man whom she was very angry with cast a shadow over her body. She couldn’t anymore see the fireplace. She looked up at his face. It was gentle but he didn’t wear a smile. His lips were sealed.


“I’m sorry.” Elena lowered her eyes to the floor. But he, with soft touch on the chin, turned her face up to look at him. There was nothing strange. His face was calm.


His sealed lips started to twitch to a playful grin.


“You have never had your first kiss for five hundred years? Miss Witch, I feel sorry for you.”


Before she could make a fuss or turn him into a toad, which she really wanted to do right now, a kiss was delivered. It was brief and more like a brush on the lips. Elena was surprised that she didn’t blush this time. Or, at least she didn’t feel any heat on her cheeks. The kiss was very polite and gentle.


“That’s it?” She whispered. She didn’t ask him. She asked herself that whether the feeling was the same as in her imagination.


General knitted his brows. He seemed annoyed. “It’s a first kiss, Lady. The main idea is about a when, not a how. For the latter, just wait for your second kiss, OK?”


Elena nodded. There was nothing else she could do. She wondered when the second time would come.


She didn’t expect it to be now.


General pulled her closer and placed the second kiss on the corner of her lips. He stroked her hair and cupped his rough hand on her cheek. This time, the kiss was firm and assured, not just a soft brush like the previous one. When Stanley withdrew, Elena wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him close so that he would do it again. She wanted to lick her lips but she didn’t dare. She was afraid that the feeling would go away.


Stanley smiled. He caressed the back of her neck then paused, steady her before his lips landed another kiss. He nipped her lower lips. Again and again, playing with her mouth. He nibbled them. Bit them. He softly but abruptly threw her head backward so that he could torture not only her lips but also her neck and her chin.


Elena didn’t know what to do. It was moving. It was like she was being kiss everywhere. She could only let out a soft moan, parting her lips, which gave him an opportunity to explore further inside.


The hand on the back of her head drew her closer. At the moment she felt the tip of his tongue, the witch cried out and push her partner. Her face was so hot she was going to explode.


But he didn’t let go. If Stanley was in his good-boy mode, he would. He would loosen the hold and apologize. It was Elena’s fault she lured him out of his den.


“Come on, Elena. You kiss me too.” She heard his voice whispering into her ear before he nipped her earlobe and any place on the way back to her lips. “Try it. Like you’re going to eat me.”


That idea triggered.


How did he know her witch’s instinct? How did he know she had longed to eat him?


When he kissed her again, she finally kissed him back, sucking and biting his lips as he was doing to her in response. She wrapped her arms around his neck almost throwing herself on him. The General held her slim waist, pinned her to his body and let out a husky groan.


That was when Elena found that a part of her fiance was growing restless.


Elena cried out. The kiss stopped. She looked at his darkened eyes and did nothing but pant. Eyes widened.


The General must know that he had scared her enough, he backed away. “Oh, red-masked parakeet. Did I cast that spell on you again?” Stanley chuckled.


Elena was too embarrassed. She felt as if she going to lose her breath and die.


“I’m sorry.” There, the General in a good-boy mode was back. He kissed her eyelid and her forehead. He pulled her hand to his chest, looked at her with puppy eyes and apologized again and again. “But it’s partly your fault, red-masked parakeet. You shouldn’t have tempted me.”


Elena finally got her breath back. She didn’t know why she was so scared in the first place. It’s natural for a man to get an arousal. And it was her that asked for it. Because of her stupid insecurity. After all, shouldn’t she hurrah that he had the feeling for her.


Yet, it was scary because, simply, it was Stanley. Was that also a mind game?


She bet it was because he intendedly let her know that he was… was...


Whatever.


“I’m not sorry about it.” Elena said.


“What do you feel?” He broadened his smile. “Proud? Tell Joanne about it.”


“You idiot.”


A slip of the tongue.


The General’s expression darkened as the good-spirited smile disappeared. “You don’t say that to my face.”


Elena gulped. Her jaw started to shake but a smirk came back on her lover’s face.


“Because, you know? My face isn’t an idiot. The idiot one is the guy down there.”


The witch’s face couldn’t get any redder.


“You idiot!” She screamed.


Stanley laughed. He didn’t argue any longer. He stepped back and went back to the fireplace, turning his back on her. At first, she thought why he did that. She understood later that he might not want her to see his restlessness.


And despite his try not to touch her before their wedding day, she herself lured him to the edge of losing it.


“I’m sorry. I’m just....” Elena bit her kiss swollen lips. “...scared.”


“Go to bed, milady. I’ll see you in the morning.”


“But...”


“I’m going to do it now if you aren’t going to go upstairs.”


Elena thought for a moment. “Do what?”


There was a long... long... pause.


“Come on, Elena! You are 500 year old and you don’t know what I mean?!”

** The End ***

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