SWNOVELS Quiet hero (Chapter 11)
Rachel:
He is a very quiet man.
And I find myself shifting in my seat as he just looks at me. The elating feeling of hope is surging in my chest for the first time since I was kidnapped and it’s making it hard to sit still. I want to jump up and run around. I want to scream out in joy. It’s an overwhelming feeling, foreign to me.
And it’s because of him.
He is my quiet hero. A man who saved me from my attacker, a man who will save us from the High Priest and his sick rules.
I want to help. I want to do something, anything really.
The desperation I feel for action is new. Before I felt sluggish and as though I was floating through this horror, unattached to what is going on around me, what is happening to me.
But not anymore.
He is still just staring at me, perhaps examining whether I can help. It’s not a comfortable feeling. The giddy feeling of hope is overlaid with the skin-crawling knowledge that I am not trusted. I grip my hands together in my lap and try to control the urge to fidget.
“You want to help?” he asks slowly, his deep eyes probing my face.
“Yes, I’ll do anything you need” I reply truthfully because I will, I will do anything to help.
We fall again into silence for a few minutes as he looks at me. I feel itchy all over and I feel the compulsion to just say something.
So I begin to ramble: “I um... could organize papers, deliver messages, um… talking to other priestesses, honest, anythi-”
“What did you say?” he interrupts.
“I will organize papers and deliver-?” I repeat slowly.
“No, at the end”
“I will do anything you need?”
“No”
“Talk to priestesses?”
“Yes, yes” he jumps up and I jump up too. But he seems surprised at his own action.
“So, what do you want me to do?”
He doesn’t immediately say anything, instead, it’s as though he is running through options in his head. I wait somewhat impatiently. I don’t know him well, but he’s clearly a man of contemplation rather than action. Not the type I would have thought to conspire against the High Priest, but I suppose you always have to watch out for the quiet ones.
“I need to find priestesses to testify…. have you… I don’t know how to say this…”
I frown “I’ve been put through what all the other priestesses have been but…” I know from the gossip in the waiting room the testimony is basically… well about torture, not the ‘run-of-the-mill’ sexual slavery that all of the priestess experience. “…I have never been to the Redeemers floor. But...but I know priestesses who have been.”
The mention of the Redeemer brings a chill to the air. The name is rarely said out loud- more often it is whispered in the dark corners of the temple when priestesses go ‘missing’ or when some of the older priestesses try to convince the newcomer of the dangers of resisting their new life as a priestess. Whispered in my room when I was first brought to the temple with the occasion scream waffling up the staircase still haunts my worst nightmares. The rumors of what goes on down there are even worse.
Going down there is what I risk by helping him, but I’m damn well going to do it anyway.
He has gone silent again and it’s starting to scare me. What if he doesn’t let me help? No, I will help. I can talk to other women on my own and let him know who is willing to testify, who has a story to tell. He can’t stop me.
“Would you be willing to tell me who?” He asks carefully.
“No” I see his face fall before I quickly continue “I will be the one to talk to them”
He takes two large strides so that he is right in front of me.
I am not the tallest woman, reaching about 5 foot 4 on a good day, so he looks down at me and I can’t help but admire his thick eyelashes framing his expressive eyes. His masculine scent hits my nose and I have to fight against my body which seems to want to lean into him.
“You would be risking too much. Giving me their names would be easier, you don’t need to get involved.”
“That is my choice- I want to help,” I say forcefully, he needs to understand that I need to do this. I want to grab him and shake him so he understands this. “They aren’t going to just talk to you anyways, they won’t trust you. Let me do it. I can do it. I will make them comfortable. I will make them understand that we need them to testify so we can get rid of that monster.”
He turns his head away and I can see him thinking. I’m not beyond begging at this point.
“Fine”
I leap at him, wrapping my arms around his stiff frame. I hear a sharp intake of breath, but I ignore it and squeeze tighter. The smile on my face is so wide it hurts.
“Thank you! Thank you! You won’t regret it”
On impulse, I lean up on my tippy toes and kiss him on his smooth-shaven cheek.
And in response, he turns his head and kisses me on the lips.
I’m shocked and I freeze. His soft lips moving against mine. It feels well, nice, and I soon begin to melt into him. I grip his robes, pulling him closer.
It’s a sweet kiss: nothing rushed, nothing heavy. It’s kissing for kissing’s sake, something I haven’t experienced in a long time…
Suddenly I feel him push away from me.
“Goddess, I am sorry!” he gasps.
*****
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