#{james01}

Though some would claim it was not so, the women of the English court, as well as those from courts abroad, understood what the men did not - it was the "gentler" sex who kept the hive thriving. Behind locked doors and smiling lips alike laid knowledge of every courtier, every secret, every rendezvous, every plan. For what were women to do but trade tales while the men tended to matters of state and family? Meg had long ago fell victim to the rush a piece of gossip could provide, and though she was never the instigator of such rumors, one by one they did pass her ear. In some ways, it felt a necessary responsibility of her station; the princess must be kept informed of all goings-on around, for her own safety, and Meg was more than happy to oblige.

james: you're being ridiculous

james: i don't understand why you can't just trust me

continued from here. . .

The ominous gray sky roared above James as he stomped out onto the deck of Anubis, boots sloshing against the soaked wood. His eyes scanned what he could see of the harbor, making sure his handiwork to secure everything had worked. Storms always had been a pain in the ass, even if he didn’t mind the spray of water against his face now. Rose stood on the other end of the ship, leaning against the railing, as drenched as he was. He continued to walk to where she waited, eyes finally meeting hers. In that moment, he knew she remembered the last time they were caught in a storm together.

The wind blew so strong that day that it gave his sails a hell of a time, the rain hitting them sideways as they tried to run, to fight the foolish souls who dared board his ship with ill intent. Blood poured just as hard, mixing with the water as they both splashed against the wood. They’d won the fight, of course, dead and mangled bodies littering the ship when they finished with the invaders. They tossed the dead bodies into the raging sea and let the rain do the rest.

By the time he sidled up to Rose, hands grasping the railing as he looked out ahead of them, he took a deep breath. There were no fights to be had today, no enemies to take care of. There was just the sound of thunder, the flash of lightning, and a sleepy town that didn’t know of all they’d done. “There’s always a storm to brave, isn’t there?” He looked down a moment, lost in thought, before turning back to her with an almost unreadable expression. “Come on,” he said quietly, slowly backing away from the rails and toward his quarters once more as his mind came back to the present. “There’s towels and a bottle of brandy waiting inside.”

      The sound of James’ boots stamping on the deck brought Rose out of her reverie, while the rain and wind had only served to send her back into the past. She did not recall the same memory that the other vampire did, but one a bit more peaceful ---the wind didn’t whip against her cheeks, and no waves crashed onto the deck about them. Instead, her memory was home to a fine mist of the early morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise. At the time, it had made her think of her old home in France where she had loved and lost as much as anyone could, in only a few years. Now, the rain only served to remind her of things long passed, and of the memory of memories... things that happened so long ago she could hardly recall how they made her feel, let alone feel it all over again. 

      She looked to James after he spoke up, her expression just as unreadable as his. There was no pressure to be one thing or another, around the man ---she could feel nothing, and not be judged, or she could feel everything all at once and choose not to talk about it. It didn’t matter. The two of them had done horrible things, together and all on their own, and she felt little sorrow or regret for any of it. She guessed that he didn’t, either, and that made them kindred in a way she didn’t think many others would understand.