|John Haveland (phony_king) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-10-12 22:43:00
|Entry tags:||prince john|
Who: Prince John (narrative)
What: flashback dreams
When: Friday morning
Where: John's apartment
"Her father threatens war! See reason, man!" The lord was blustering, all puffed up like a pig's bladder. John didn't care what he said, however. He looked at the slim little thing at his side and didn't give a shake of a tail what he or her father or anyone else said. His mother had already pointed out the impropriety, that he had a wife already, that he shamed her. He still didn't care. His old wife had a womb as dry as sand, and held no attraction for him. The pope would clear it up, soon enough, and then his little French maid would be his wife. She had more spirit in her little finger than anyone else he knew.
"Are you listening, sire? This is highly irregular!" John looked around, at his castle, his hall, his throne and crown, his love. She smiled at him. What did she look like, again? Little and fierce, with eyes like gems. Was her hair pale? Dark? He thought auburn, blonder than his own, but he couldn't be sure. No, dark hair, like bitter coffee, and dark eyes, and she smiled at him.
"John," she said, lifting her brows delicately, sharing amusement at the pompous old windbag, at her father, at the whole damn mess.
"Isabelle," he said, holding out his hand. She reached out to him, but the courtier was bleating at him, in his ear.
"Sire? Sire? Sire? Sire! Sire!"
John sat up, staring about blindly. The cat yelped and jumped off the bed as he fumbled for the alarm. Her face was with him for a moment longer, but then it faded like smoke.
"Isabelle.... Oh God..." He covered his face with his hands. She was gone, and he'd been too proud to go after her. He didn't like being alone, but he was stubborn and jealous and it was always, always Richard who came first, no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to be loved, and he'd driven her away.
The cat looked up at him from the floor and mewed insistently for breakfast.
"You're not leaving me. I don't care what they say. You're my cat and while you're here, she might still come back." John waved a finger, and sighed.
Better keep taking those pills. He had to keep it together.