Between Two Evils - Chapter 17
May. 1st, 2010 03:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
botiasPrevious Chapters Here
Allura couldn't help but panic a little when she saw Lotor staring in at her. She had hoped to at least be on the return trip when she was discovered. She sat up, lips parted, her gaze skittering away from his.
She heard the 'thunk' of the hatch release, and then his voice. “I'm sorry, Dearest. Did I forget something from the store?” Lotor didn't sound sorry. He sounded very annoyed.
The canopy quickly lifted out of the way, leaving Allura blinking up at him. “No. I was leaving you.”
Lotor narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess,” he said. “'Honesty is always the best policy.'” He put his hands on his hips. “In my experience, that's rarely the case.” Allura didn't squirm under his regard, but it was a near thing. “Since I am already up, would you like to make any other escape attempts?”
Allura's cheeks warmed. She shook her head.
He held out a hand to her. “Then let us go back to bed. I had a trying day yesterday.”
She didn't care for his mockery. If he'd been intending to make her feel like a guilty child, he'd succeeded. Allura told herself firmly that he was very much the author of his own troubles. Still, he had a right to be angry with her. Allura placed her hand in his.
She climbed out of the cockpit and found herself in very close quarters. He had not stepped back as he helped her out. For all his courtesy, he was no gentleman.
He stared down at her, amber eyes gleaming bright under his thick black lashes. He was still holding her hand. His hand was warm and the palm hard and just a little rough. He never wore gloves or gauntlets when he trained—or much of anything else, and he was not wearing very much now. He wore no shirt, and his pants were only partly fastened. Only the bandage showing on his right side gave proof of his deadly mishap only a handful of hours ago. He looked dauntingly vital and alive, the musculature of his chest shifting with each breath.
She stared up at him. Staying might have been the right thing to do, but all the concerns that had driven her to run in the first place were still in full force—like this intense physical awareness. Distance was bound to help with that. She didn't have very much distance now. Her breasts brushed his torso whenever she took a breath. Allura despaired at the shivery mix of arousal and trepidation that spread through her, slow and deceptively sweet. When she had decided to stay, it had been about civilized concepts like honor, but the consequences were as primal and basic as could be. She would be breathing his breath, sharing his bed, bearing his heirs—as he so quaintly put it—for the foreseeable future.
Allura felt tears sting her eyes.
“You're shaking,” he said. Then, “Stop it! I'm not going to beat you.”
The words were flat and angry. Very angry.
Allura was trembling, she realized. Their fight, everything that had happened since... Everything that had happened before! They had all taken a toll on her emotions that suddenly had come due. She felt close to tears and so terribly alone. Even if she could have spoken, tongue-tied, her throat tight with emotion, she had no idea what to say.
Lotor scowled and turned away, leaving her off-balance on the wing of his craft. After a moment, not knowing what else to do, she followed after him.
The walk back to his quarters began in silence. Lotor took the lead, walking quickly. Allura found herself almost trotting in order to keep pace. Perhaps the narrow corridor with its smooth metal walls and odd twists and turns was well-lit to Lotor's eyes, but to Allura it was dark and forbidding.
“I'm sorry,” she said, when she could bear the silence no longer, wincing a little at the sound of her own voice, so small and contrite. “I— I had changed my mind. I wasn't going to leave.”
Ahead of her, Lotor stopped. “Is that so?” There were luminescent areas high on the walls that provided what little light there was. They were beneath one now. The faint glow outlined his bright hair and the upper curves of his shoulders, but left his face in shadow.
“Yes, of course it is.” She could see that he'd turned to look back at her. Apparently, he had arrived after her aborted take off.
He turned away again, scoffing. “Only because there was no where safer for you to go. If you went back to Arus, you would have my father's armies on your doorstep again sooner or later.”
Allura stared at his departing back, not liking his implication at all. That had been the least of her reasons for staying. But she didn't really want to delve into that. Lotor probably had an equal enthusiasm for a talk about 'feelings'. He didn't sound like he wanted to talk at all. She should keep quiet until he was over the worst of his annoyance. She fell into place behind him, unhappy and silent. For all of four steps.
“And would you have been leading those armies?”
What possessed her to ask such a question she didn't know, but it had an effect on Lotor. He spun around on his heel with a low growl.
Allura froze, eyes wide, as he stalked the short distance that separated them. She had never been very good at staying in the background—or keeping out of trouble.
His voice was low, and it sounded like he spoke through clenched teeth. “I am trying very hard to remember that you saved my life.” Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt him touch her. His fingers traced over her pounding heart, then over her left breast, moving across the upper curve with complete familiarity. They skimmed past her nipple—and found the hard object in the inner pocket of her jacket. Of course she had brought Blue Lion's key with her; it belonged to her.
It shouldn't have felt like a shameful act.
“If you had escaped from me, in my own ship--” He pressed against the object in her pocket with his fingers. He was gentle, so gentle, but Allura jerked as though he'd prodded her with a knife. “If you had taken the key to Arus's miraculously intact defenses--you know, the ones I lied about to my king and commander? 'So much molten metal', were the words I used...
“As soon as that became public knowledge, I might not be commanding anything ever again. Am I understood?”
Allura shivered.
“There will be no more of these escape attempts.” His tone was sharp with command. “You will--”
He stopped speaking.
She started to reply, but a hand closed over her mouth before she could make a sound. Then she heard it: a faint clicking. After a moment, Lotor released her and disappeared into the gloom in the direction of their quarters. He was back before she could decide whether to follow him. Allura gasped in surprise when he pushed something small and wriggling into her hands. Then she recognized the soft pelt and wiry little body.
“It seems you have another loyal subject,” he said, before turning away once more.
Allura clutched the food taster close as it chirred and began to chew affectionately on one of her fingers. Was it just her, or had Lotor put particular emphasis on the word 'loyal'? Tears came to her eyes—she cried so easily these days. It had never occurred to her that Lotor might have to answer for her actions—it had never occurred to her to care. The knowledge added a new dimension to the guilt she was already feeling.
The food taster leaped from her arms as soon as she stepped back through the narrow door into Lotor's quarters. It seemed its mission was over now that its mistress had been restored to her proper place. She swung the door shut, watching the wall panel fit seamlessly into place. Would Lotor try to secure it from her now?
Allura walked into the bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed, hands clasped, as she watched Lotor stretch cautiously, and then push his fingers into his hair, scratching absently behind one pointed ear. He was frowning a little, apparently lost in thought.
“Lotor,” she said quietly, “What would have happened to you if I had gone? If Arus had taken up arms again?”
“The punishment for treason is death, of course.”
Allura froze.
“As royalty, I expect I would be granted a quick death by beheading instead of entertaining the court,” Lotor continued. He glanced at her, looking at her for the first time since she had entered the room. He actually smiled, in one of his lightening-quick changes of mood, amused by her expression.
“They would have to catch me first, Allura.” His tone said he found that unlikely, but Allura was not comforted. “But, either way, I would lose a great deal.” He toed off his boots. “If not my life, then my title and the greater part of my wealth.” He walked to her then, where she sat speechless. He extended his hand. “On Arus, I suppose you bake traitors a nice cake.” She let him pull her up to stand on the bed.
“I prefer chocolate,” he drawled. When she made no response, he frowned at the fastenings on her jacket. After a moment's hesitation he reached for them. “Allura... you are my wife. I won't have you running off, and I won't have you being afraid of...” Allura wasn't listening. She reached out and put her hands on his face, wanting--needing him to look at her. He did so without urging at the first touch of her hands. It was his turn to look surprised, his cat-like pupils widening as he searched her face.
Allura stared at him as if she had never seen him before. “You would do that to keep me safe—risk your crown, your life?”
The idea seemed just as shocking to him as it was to her. But it was true, nevertheless. She could see it, could see that he didn't like it at all.
He scowled, “It was a risk, Allura. It should have been a nonexistent—”
She bent and pressed her mouth to his, stopping his words.
She lifted her head to see that he looked more than a little stunned.
She felt a pang of emotion that almost took her breath. “And that day on Arus, if I had not come back, it would have been the same for you... wouldn't it?”
He blinked his great amber eyes at her; then his pale brows snapped together in a scowl; he turned his face away. “I would have found a way to get you back.”
“Of course you would have,” she murmured. She kissed him again, just above where her hand cupped his jaw. She felt the fine quiver that went through him at the touch of her lips.
“Allura...” his voice was low and rough.
She loved the way he said her name.
The knowledge washed through her, bittersweet. He said it like a prayer or an incantation, at other times like something delicious that he wanted to eat all up. It was as though she had been in some sort of protective cocoon, and now she had emerged to a new reality. A reality that perhaps was not as bad as she had feared. Perhaps... “Shhh,” she said, “Let me enjoy my husband.”
“What?” Now he sounded very much the affronted prince.
Allura laughed softly. The sound seemed to beguile him, he was still long enough for her to kiss down the side of his throat. She took an experimental taste of the skin above his collar bone. She liked it. His skin was warm and taut under her tongue, the taste faint but strangely compelling--
“Allura, what are you—that tickles.” To her surprise he stepped back from her and turned away, pushing a hand through his hair.
Allura watched his retreat, surprised. And it was a retreat. For the first time since they had wed, she had Lotor on the run. It was certainly the first time she'd accomplished that without heavy artillery. And, for the first time since they had wed, she had hope for the future. The hope was small and new, but she was nevertheless a bit giddy with it. She'd been so afraid...
She stepped off the bed and slipped her arms around him from behind. He startled and pulled out her hold, spinning to face her. “Stop that!”
Allura looked up at him with growing amusement and delight. She decided to feed a few more of his words back to him. “I think it pleases me to touch you. I'm afraid you are just going to have to get used to it.” She covered her grin with a hand at his outraged expression. She took a couple of steps toward him. He took a couple of steps back, then stopped, apparently unwilling to retreat any further.
She reached out a hand to touch him again.
He caught her wrist before she could connect.
She arched a brow, still feeling rather buoyant, and said, “You told me once that they were just pleasurable sensations, nothing I should fear.”
“I lied,” he said, showing more teeth than was necessary. “I've seen men make idiots of themselves over some courtesan with a particularly clever mouth. I've seen women betray all for a pair of broad shoulders and a few flowery words. But, I will not be like them. I will not be so easy to fool.”
Allura looked up at him. He still had a firm hold on her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but he meant business. His look was more than a little predatory. It no longer seemed funny to her that he didn't want her touch him.
“It is not a trick, and I don't play cruel games,” she declared. Then, more quietly, “I would never betray you, Lotor,” she said, feeling another wave of regret for her attempt at running away.
With bated breath, she waited to see how much damage had been done. Would he believe her? Would it matter to him if he did? She found it mattered to her, very much.
Lotor's eyes narrowed. “If you want me so badly, then you've an odd way of showing it. I all but ordered you to lay beside me last night. And you were afraid of me when I found you at the ship. Admit it!”
Allura hesitated. It was hard to let go of old assumptions, old habits of caution. “I was afraid,” she said, “but it was not because I didn't want you.”
Lotor blinked. “Is that so,” he murmured.
“I find I am not so afraid anymore,” she said.
The words were few and simple, but she stumbled over them a little; they had not been easy. Would they be enough? She tried to convey with her gaze all that she was feeling, all that she was not yet ready to say or even quite fully believe.
Slowly, his fingers loosened on her wrist. She watched the play of emotions on his face. There was a time when she'd seen only anger and self-satisfaction in Lotor. Now, she could see yearning, a vulnerability that mirrored her own. She breathed deep as she felt the bonds between them weave tighter and stronger, bonds formed of shared breath, shared emotion, shared secrets. She had been fighting this all along, she realized. It was still frightening. But, perhaps, the bonds were something she could depend on. Clearly the intensity of his feeling for her and her value to him was greater than she had ever expected.
Allura thought of the way she had turned the lion keys over to five men she barely knew. It had been scary and exhilarating at once. Sometimes, when fate threw you a life line, you had to take it and trust that it was not a serpent. Of course, it helped when you were hip deep in vipers already.
She slipped her wrist out of his hold--and slowly reached out and put her palms on his torso. She felt a strong need to touch him that had nothing to do with teasing him. She was watching him closely all the while, her earnest face turned up to his. Something flickered in his gaze when she made contact, but he didn't pull away. This was reassuring, but she found herself too shy to try and initiate a kiss; if he didn't meet her halfway, she would be standing there on her tiptoes like a fool.
She took one of his hands in hers. “Come to bed,” she murmured. “You had a trying day yesterday.”
On to Chapter 18
Chapter 17
Allura couldn't help but panic a little when she saw Lotor staring in at her. She had hoped to at least be on the return trip when she was discovered. She sat up, lips parted, her gaze skittering away from his.
She heard the 'thunk' of the hatch release, and then his voice. “I'm sorry, Dearest. Did I forget something from the store?” Lotor didn't sound sorry. He sounded very annoyed.
The canopy quickly lifted out of the way, leaving Allura blinking up at him. “No. I was leaving you.”
Lotor narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess,” he said. “'Honesty is always the best policy.'” He put his hands on his hips. “In my experience, that's rarely the case.” Allura didn't squirm under his regard, but it was a near thing. “Since I am already up, would you like to make any other escape attempts?”
Allura's cheeks warmed. She shook her head.
He held out a hand to her. “Then let us go back to bed. I had a trying day yesterday.”
She didn't care for his mockery. If he'd been intending to make her feel like a guilty child, he'd succeeded. Allura told herself firmly that he was very much the author of his own troubles. Still, he had a right to be angry with her. Allura placed her hand in his.
She climbed out of the cockpit and found herself in very close quarters. He had not stepped back as he helped her out. For all his courtesy, he was no gentleman.
He stared down at her, amber eyes gleaming bright under his thick black lashes. He was still holding her hand. His hand was warm and the palm hard and just a little rough. He never wore gloves or gauntlets when he trained—or much of anything else, and he was not wearing very much now. He wore no shirt, and his pants were only partly fastened. Only the bandage showing on his right side gave proof of his deadly mishap only a handful of hours ago. He looked dauntingly vital and alive, the musculature of his chest shifting with each breath.
She stared up at him. Staying might have been the right thing to do, but all the concerns that had driven her to run in the first place were still in full force—like this intense physical awareness. Distance was bound to help with that. She didn't have very much distance now. Her breasts brushed his torso whenever she took a breath. Allura despaired at the shivery mix of arousal and trepidation that spread through her, slow and deceptively sweet. When she had decided to stay, it had been about civilized concepts like honor, but the consequences were as primal and basic as could be. She would be breathing his breath, sharing his bed, bearing his heirs—as he so quaintly put it—for the foreseeable future.
Allura felt tears sting her eyes.
“You're shaking,” he said. Then, “Stop it! I'm not going to beat you.”
The words were flat and angry. Very angry.
Allura was trembling, she realized. Their fight, everything that had happened since... Everything that had happened before! They had all taken a toll on her emotions that suddenly had come due. She felt close to tears and so terribly alone. Even if she could have spoken, tongue-tied, her throat tight with emotion, she had no idea what to say.
Lotor scowled and turned away, leaving her off-balance on the wing of his craft. After a moment, not knowing what else to do, she followed after him.
The walk back to his quarters began in silence. Lotor took the lead, walking quickly. Allura found herself almost trotting in order to keep pace. Perhaps the narrow corridor with its smooth metal walls and odd twists and turns was well-lit to Lotor's eyes, but to Allura it was dark and forbidding.
“I'm sorry,” she said, when she could bear the silence no longer, wincing a little at the sound of her own voice, so small and contrite. “I— I had changed my mind. I wasn't going to leave.”
Ahead of her, Lotor stopped. “Is that so?” There were luminescent areas high on the walls that provided what little light there was. They were beneath one now. The faint glow outlined his bright hair and the upper curves of his shoulders, but left his face in shadow.
“Yes, of course it is.” She could see that he'd turned to look back at her. Apparently, he had arrived after her aborted take off.
He turned away again, scoffing. “Only because there was no where safer for you to go. If you went back to Arus, you would have my father's armies on your doorstep again sooner or later.”
Allura stared at his departing back, not liking his implication at all. That had been the least of her reasons for staying. But she didn't really want to delve into that. Lotor probably had an equal enthusiasm for a talk about 'feelings'. He didn't sound like he wanted to talk at all. She should keep quiet until he was over the worst of his annoyance. She fell into place behind him, unhappy and silent. For all of four steps.
“And would you have been leading those armies?”
What possessed her to ask such a question she didn't know, but it had an effect on Lotor. He spun around on his heel with a low growl.
Allura froze, eyes wide, as he stalked the short distance that separated them. She had never been very good at staying in the background—or keeping out of trouble.
His voice was low, and it sounded like he spoke through clenched teeth. “I am trying very hard to remember that you saved my life.” Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt him touch her. His fingers traced over her pounding heart, then over her left breast, moving across the upper curve with complete familiarity. They skimmed past her nipple—and found the hard object in the inner pocket of her jacket. Of course she had brought Blue Lion's key with her; it belonged to her.
It shouldn't have felt like a shameful act.
“If you had escaped from me, in my own ship--” He pressed against the object in her pocket with his fingers. He was gentle, so gentle, but Allura jerked as though he'd prodded her with a knife. “If you had taken the key to Arus's miraculously intact defenses--you know, the ones I lied about to my king and commander? 'So much molten metal', were the words I used...
“As soon as that became public knowledge, I might not be commanding anything ever again. Am I understood?”
Allura shivered.
“There will be no more of these escape attempts.” His tone was sharp with command. “You will--”
He stopped speaking.
She started to reply, but a hand closed over her mouth before she could make a sound. Then she heard it: a faint clicking. After a moment, Lotor released her and disappeared into the gloom in the direction of their quarters. He was back before she could decide whether to follow him. Allura gasped in surprise when he pushed something small and wriggling into her hands. Then she recognized the soft pelt and wiry little body.
“It seems you have another loyal subject,” he said, before turning away once more.
Allura clutched the food taster close as it chirred and began to chew affectionately on one of her fingers. Was it just her, or had Lotor put particular emphasis on the word 'loyal'? Tears came to her eyes—she cried so easily these days. It had never occurred to her that Lotor might have to answer for her actions—it had never occurred to her to care. The knowledge added a new dimension to the guilt she was already feeling.
The food taster leaped from her arms as soon as she stepped back through the narrow door into Lotor's quarters. It seemed its mission was over now that its mistress had been restored to her proper place. She swung the door shut, watching the wall panel fit seamlessly into place. Would Lotor try to secure it from her now?
Allura walked into the bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed, hands clasped, as she watched Lotor stretch cautiously, and then push his fingers into his hair, scratching absently behind one pointed ear. He was frowning a little, apparently lost in thought.
“Lotor,” she said quietly, “What would have happened to you if I had gone? If Arus had taken up arms again?”
“The punishment for treason is death, of course.”
Allura froze.
“As royalty, I expect I would be granted a quick death by beheading instead of entertaining the court,” Lotor continued. He glanced at her, looking at her for the first time since she had entered the room. He actually smiled, in one of his lightening-quick changes of mood, amused by her expression.
“They would have to catch me first, Allura.” His tone said he found that unlikely, but Allura was not comforted. “But, either way, I would lose a great deal.” He toed off his boots. “If not my life, then my title and the greater part of my wealth.” He walked to her then, where she sat speechless. He extended his hand. “On Arus, I suppose you bake traitors a nice cake.” She let him pull her up to stand on the bed.
“I prefer chocolate,” he drawled. When she made no response, he frowned at the fastenings on her jacket. After a moment's hesitation he reached for them. “Allura... you are my wife. I won't have you running off, and I won't have you being afraid of...” Allura wasn't listening. She reached out and put her hands on his face, wanting--needing him to look at her. He did so without urging at the first touch of her hands. It was his turn to look surprised, his cat-like pupils widening as he searched her face.
Allura stared at him as if she had never seen him before. “You would do that to keep me safe—risk your crown, your life?”
The idea seemed just as shocking to him as it was to her. But it was true, nevertheless. She could see it, could see that he didn't like it at all.
He scowled, “It was a risk, Allura. It should have been a nonexistent—”
She bent and pressed her mouth to his, stopping his words.
She lifted her head to see that he looked more than a little stunned.
She felt a pang of emotion that almost took her breath. “And that day on Arus, if I had not come back, it would have been the same for you... wouldn't it?”
He blinked his great amber eyes at her; then his pale brows snapped together in a scowl; he turned his face away. “I would have found a way to get you back.”
“Of course you would have,” she murmured. She kissed him again, just above where her hand cupped his jaw. She felt the fine quiver that went through him at the touch of her lips.
“Allura...” his voice was low and rough.
She loved the way he said her name.
The knowledge washed through her, bittersweet. He said it like a prayer or an incantation, at other times like something delicious that he wanted to eat all up. It was as though she had been in some sort of protective cocoon, and now she had emerged to a new reality. A reality that perhaps was not as bad as she had feared. Perhaps... “Shhh,” she said, “Let me enjoy my husband.”
“What?” Now he sounded very much the affronted prince.
Allura laughed softly. The sound seemed to beguile him, he was still long enough for her to kiss down the side of his throat. She took an experimental taste of the skin above his collar bone. She liked it. His skin was warm and taut under her tongue, the taste faint but strangely compelling--
“Allura, what are you—that tickles.” To her surprise he stepped back from her and turned away, pushing a hand through his hair.
Allura watched his retreat, surprised. And it was a retreat. For the first time since they had wed, she had Lotor on the run. It was certainly the first time she'd accomplished that without heavy artillery. And, for the first time since they had wed, she had hope for the future. The hope was small and new, but she was nevertheless a bit giddy with it. She'd been so afraid...
She stepped off the bed and slipped her arms around him from behind. He startled and pulled out her hold, spinning to face her. “Stop that!”
Allura looked up at him with growing amusement and delight. She decided to feed a few more of his words back to him. “I think it pleases me to touch you. I'm afraid you are just going to have to get used to it.” She covered her grin with a hand at his outraged expression. She took a couple of steps toward him. He took a couple of steps back, then stopped, apparently unwilling to retreat any further.
She reached out a hand to touch him again.
He caught her wrist before she could connect.
She arched a brow, still feeling rather buoyant, and said, “You told me once that they were just pleasurable sensations, nothing I should fear.”
“I lied,” he said, showing more teeth than was necessary. “I've seen men make idiots of themselves over some courtesan with a particularly clever mouth. I've seen women betray all for a pair of broad shoulders and a few flowery words. But, I will not be like them. I will not be so easy to fool.”
Allura looked up at him. He still had a firm hold on her wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but he meant business. His look was more than a little predatory. It no longer seemed funny to her that he didn't want her touch him.
“It is not a trick, and I don't play cruel games,” she declared. Then, more quietly, “I would never betray you, Lotor,” she said, feeling another wave of regret for her attempt at running away.
With bated breath, she waited to see how much damage had been done. Would he believe her? Would it matter to him if he did? She found it mattered to her, very much.
Lotor's eyes narrowed. “If you want me so badly, then you've an odd way of showing it. I all but ordered you to lay beside me last night. And you were afraid of me when I found you at the ship. Admit it!”
Allura hesitated. It was hard to let go of old assumptions, old habits of caution. “I was afraid,” she said, “but it was not because I didn't want you.”
Lotor blinked. “Is that so,” he murmured.
“I find I am not so afraid anymore,” she said.
The words were few and simple, but she stumbled over them a little; they had not been easy. Would they be enough? She tried to convey with her gaze all that she was feeling, all that she was not yet ready to say or even quite fully believe.
Slowly, his fingers loosened on her wrist. She watched the play of emotions on his face. There was a time when she'd seen only anger and self-satisfaction in Lotor. Now, she could see yearning, a vulnerability that mirrored her own. She breathed deep as she felt the bonds between them weave tighter and stronger, bonds formed of shared breath, shared emotion, shared secrets. She had been fighting this all along, she realized. It was still frightening. But, perhaps, the bonds were something she could depend on. Clearly the intensity of his feeling for her and her value to him was greater than she had ever expected.
Allura thought of the way she had turned the lion keys over to five men she barely knew. It had been scary and exhilarating at once. Sometimes, when fate threw you a life line, you had to take it and trust that it was not a serpent. Of course, it helped when you were hip deep in vipers already.
She slipped her wrist out of his hold--and slowly reached out and put her palms on his torso. She felt a strong need to touch him that had nothing to do with teasing him. She was watching him closely all the while, her earnest face turned up to his. Something flickered in his gaze when she made contact, but he didn't pull away. This was reassuring, but she found herself too shy to try and initiate a kiss; if he didn't meet her halfway, she would be standing there on her tiptoes like a fool.
She took one of his hands in hers. “Come to bed,” she murmured. “You had a trying day yesterday.”
On to Chapter 18
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-05-01 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 02:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 02:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 05:34 pm (UTC)