ensorceler | ♔ exsilium contact

[ It's so much easier to keep composure with letters, but Anne can be quick in keeping her hurried tone in check. He's back, this is hard to process when she had only just accepted his leaving. Does Lisbeth know? She's been more of an open mess than Anne for some reason. ]

Master Pinkman, you have returned. Is this why you are sorry, or for returning home foremost? I cannot fault you for what you have no control over, but I would wish you to say so in person, if you would see me, for I am having trouble trusting my ears now.

[There's a hitch in his breath as he almost takes the Lord's name in vain - but he remembers how much she doesn't like that, leaving an awkward pause.]

...Yeah. Yeah, we should talk for real. Somewhere we can pray.

Before that, you must keep your promise. It was not fitting for me to receive my rosary from Saul Goodman.

There is a church in the city, of ill repute and condition, but it holds no others.

I'll meet you there. I'll tell you everything you wanna know. And I'll make it all up to you.

I wish not for more promises, but only to see that it is truly you.

[ Directions here, probably more long-winded than they need to be! ]

Okay. Okay, I'll be there. I'm leaving now.

[He really is, rushing out the door as soon as he's thrown on enough warm layers. It's lucky that the directions are as detailed as they are, because his memory of the place is a bit fuzzy and he wasn't even here that long to begin with. Jesse makes it to the church quickly enough. He stands outside, wrapped in the cloak that she gave him when he was in jail, looking much like she remembers him despite everything.]

[ She's already there, waiting inside on one of the few pews that are still in one piece. She's a small figure, and perhaps not immediately recognizable due to being wrapped in a cloak that is too large for her, but the cloak itself should be remembered should he try. It's his after all.

Just outside the doors, hanging from a rusted but ornate knob is her rosary. He had promised he would return her prayers to her with a kiss, and she is holding him to it.

When she hears the crunch of footsteps just outside, Anne stands but doesn't turn, clutching the cloak tightly around her. ]

[Jesse doesn't notice the rosary until he's reaching for the door, and then he stops and carefully disentangles it from the knob. He holds it up to the light, his eyes welling up as he thinks back to that promise. It seems a long time ago, now. Simpler times. But he can't imagine what would have driven him to go back on his word, either. How could he have killed himself without at least returning it to her?

He sniffs, gathering himself up, and opens the door. It's dark inside, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust once he's closed the door behind him. Slowly, he steps down the aisle with the rosary clutched in his fist, pressed to his heart. When his eyes find her in the dim light, he approaches, timid and unsure.]

Edited 2014-01-14 08:45 (UTC)

[ She turns slowly as the door opens, cloak clutched about her dwarfed figure at the chill the air brings. She is still adjusting to the climate, though she much prefers the snow to the constant rain and dead earth. This building may not offer that much warmth, but at least it keeps out the wind.

The lighting is too dim for her to properly see or understand his expression, but hers is a conflicting mix of selfish relief and bitter concern, only revealed once she drops the hood after seeing it's him. Unless some magic user could change shapes like Kang; the knowledge that such a power exists is frightening, and why she feels ever more unsure when old friends return. That is why she must know that he sees his promise through. Everything is over, isn't it? Can't it finally be?

Can't they begin something new? ]

Jesse.

[ She breathes his name out before even letting him prove himself, but even Anne Boleyn can be overcome with impatience. More-so than people might think, when a crown isn't on the line.

But Anne is surprised that she missed him this much. She hadn't let herself cry, had kept herself always working and focused on other tasks so that she did not dwell, and now it's all she can do to keep her eyes dry, both arms reaching out and stretching to her sides. ]

[He'd thought she might be angry - though she's been lied to, of course, and she still might be angry when she hears the truth. But it's a relief when she welcomes him like that instead of being cold. Jesse lets out a breath he'd been holding and moves forward, sweeping her into his arms, bowing to meet her lips.]

[ The cloak almost falls off in the suddenness of it, not tightly knotted for having planned on giving it right over to him, and surely he needs it as frigid as his lips are in the first few seconds. But then there are her pesky emotions getting in the way, they always seem to no matter how cold she is seen as. She could not be so passionate for her goals, for her loves, if she didn't allow some weakness.

At least now it brings comfort rather than hurt, wrapping both arms about his neck to make up for any height difference. He may not be as tall as Henry, but she dares he kisses better. Not in the way a man commands a woman, or a king his subject, but in a way she can't name, because she hasn't known it before. Not even with Thomas Wyatt. It tickles her, deep in her belly where laughter is born, though for now restrained. Barely, as Anne is smiling into the kiss and near ruining it only moments after, she is so delighted. Her right hand quickly reaches from his coat up to his face, gripping his jaw so that she can offer more leverage and control.

But this is a church, and she must stop eventually. ]

Edited 2014-01-14 10:04 (UTC)

[It's a church, but there's no one else here to scold him, and if God didn't want him with her, then why did He bring him here at all?

Jesse's palms slide down to the small of her back and he pulls her closer, savoring this as one of the many things he thought he'd never have again. Honestly, if anything's a fantasy, wouldn't it be this? Instead of praying for forgiveness, all he's doing is praying that he doesn't wake up. Let him stay here a little longer, if this is something he's just imagining. The place where he's a prince, not a slave.

He realizes the rosary is still entwined around his right hand and he reaches up to lay it over Anne's, where she holds him, though he doesn't make to loosen her grip or draw away.]

[ The feel of the cool metal against her fingers reminds her again of what it represents, and there is momentary sadness that attempts to drag her thoughts back down. All she had here was her faith in God and her own conscience. No family, no kingdom, no future. It changed everything, having said goodbye to all of that long ago.

But she had said goodbye to him, too, even if he hadn't heard her.

Curling her grip around the rosary, Anne snags his fingers along with it, pulling both down to nestle beneath her cloak and against her breast. Lips pursed, she places three kisses against the corner of his mouth, each tinier than the last while she takes a step backward, likewise pulling him with as she doesn't release his hand. ]

Talk to me. Then we shall pray.

[Jesse lets out a quiet noise of disappointment, though he obeys. He keeps close to her as she moves, not wanting to lose his hold on her. If he does, maybe she'll disappear. The universe just loves playing those kinds of tricks on him.]

...I did something terrible.

[ She isn't surprised to hear him say something like this, although she might be surprised to believe it. At least he can't be worse than any other man, one who seems to mourn everything and everyone that Anne has never known.

Squeezing his hand, she stops to sit on the edge of the dais, behind the podium, tugging his hand so that he must remain beside her. He seems unwilling to leave, at any rate, but who could blame him? He was just whisked away. ]

There is nothing so terrible as to take away the selfish joy I now feel at seeing you alive and well. I hope you have not let their hurtful words make you believe things that are untrue.

[ 'They', whoever 'they' are. The people who locked him up? Whoever he went home to? ]

[They can all burn in Hell. He isn't concerned about them anymore. He's concerned about her, because he thinks this is one thing that can, in fact, take away her joy.

He sits beside her, shaking his head.]

It's something terrible that I did to myself. I don't think I did it on purpose, I don't think I meant to die like that, but I'm not sure. I...

[ It's a word that's hard to miss. 'Die'. It makes her feel light-headed, especially in relation to this conversation. She feels like there's an important piece she's missing, as if she stepped out for just a moment but missed the most vital information. ]

What do you mean? You are sitting right here before me. Death does not follow us here.

♔ exsilium contact

[ voice ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject