Denial II, Chapter 14: A Place of Safety (original) (raw)
Title: Denial II, chapter 14: A Place of Safety
Author: 
perteltote
Characters/Pairings: Marian
Rating: G
Genre: Drama, Angst
Words: 765
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender . Takes place after AU 2x13 but prior to 3x01
Summary: Marian awakes in captivity and subject to Vaizey's plans. Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
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Chapter 14: A Place of Safety
Warmth...rocking...rocking...her whole body moving, head drifting. Her eyelids twitch and her world is suffused with a radiant light; it is too much, she clamps them tight and shakes her head more, exaggerating the gentle rocking motion. The light...she is safe here, in the dark. She sinks down, down...here she is safe, buried in dreams, cradled by the blackness.
There is a hand on her brow, a soft voice calling her.
"No," she murmurs, shaking her head. She will stay here, in the black warmth, but the voice is calling her and the hand grips her shoulder. A thought drifts in...grows...she remembers. There is...something she needs to do...Someone...
She gasps and opens her eyes. "Robin?"
The light dazzles her, pain lances deep into the darkness and she closes her eyes again...she is safe. Here. It is dark and warm. But...
Slowly this time, she opens her eyes just a fraction, tries to make out the source of the voice that has been talking, is still talking, is calling her out of her safety...
"Robin?" she asks again, but the voice doesn't answer her, is just a murmur of encouragement against the dark.
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It seems like days, maybe it is days, later that her eyes regain the ability to focus, and she finally sees the owner of the voice.
She has kind eyes, and big hands. When she notices that Marian's eyes are open, she leans over the bed expectantly, and Marian sees that she is big! Not just big for a woman, but truly large, taller and wider than many men. Marian has never seen such a plow-horse of a woman; she has shoulders wider than Robin's and hips to match. Marian shrinks back, intimidated by the sheer mass hovering over her, but she keeps staring at the woman's eyes. She so needs her to be kind.
The woman's eyes are bright and she stares back. It is too much and Marian looks down, belatedly realizing that this woman is a nun. She clutches her little bit of hope even tighter; perhaps she is truly pious and is here to help her. A large hand covers her brow, and the feeling is so familiar that Marian looks back up trustingly. Marian hopes that the woman will speak; that the calming voice will tell her what will happen next, but the nun just strokes her brow silently.
Frustrated, Marian lets her eyes wander again, examines her surroundings for information. The ceiling is low, very low, and the wall she rests against curves faintly. She inhales experimentally, and yes, her nose is working. The scents of pitch and salt flood in. She is on a boat then. Her body seems accustomed to the steady rocking so she must have been here for some time. How long? Is Robin taking her back to Nottingham?
Her throat feels thick and rough, so she is proud when her words come out sounding almost normal.
"Where is...where am I?"
The large woman smiles down at her. Her smile is kind too.
"Shh...child, you have been very ill," she says, and Marian notices she has a faint accent.
Marian hates it when people ignore her questions. It reminds her of Vaizey. It reminds her of Guy.
Her brows knit together as she asks again, "Where am I? Where are we going?"
The woman's smile turns amused for a moment before she answers, "We are aboard ship, bound for Treviso, then overland to Bavaria."
Her accent deepens as she rolls the syllables of their destination off her tongue. She looks happy and Marian wonders if it is the woman's home, if she is the one going home. It makes Marian angry again and she thrashes weakly in the bed.
"I am not! I am not going to Bavaria! You must...where is Robin? What have you done with him!?"
The woman's amusement returns and quirks the corners of her mouth. Her reply is mild and Marian suddenly feels like a petulant child.
"Robin?" she asks. "I was told of no one by that name. I only just glimpsed the men who brought you. Now...it is good that you have awoken and even better that you spoke, but you must not tire yourself. Something may still be wrong inside your head. Sleep is best. Here, drink."
A large arm clamps her skull as a sour smelling draught is pressed to her lips. She tries to shake her head, opens her mouth to refuse, but the words are drowned by the liquid pouring down her throat. She will not swallow, chokes and splutters, but soon she is sinking back into the dark.
To be continued...