Ravyn Girnwood (princessravyn) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2009-09-06 20:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-06-14 |
My coven, my coven...
Who: Ravyn Girnwood (solo)
When: Late night
Where: Cedric's townhouse
The forest stretched before her, the green of the trees unrecognizable in the absence of the moonlight. Her feet didn’t make a sound as she crept forward, trying to find her way out. She knew these woods – had grown up here, attending rituals with the rest of the coven.
All she wanted was to find her way home.
Up ahead, the trees diverged, revealing a small clearing. The perimeter was lined with torches, casting a warm glow over the three men she saw standing there. But she couldn’t feel the warmth of the flames, just cold. Black, like the forest surrounding her.
Peeking out from around a large oak, she watched as one man fell, his throat slit by one of the others, the man in the center, the man in the black cloak. The fallen man rolled toward her and she recoiled, clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
He was her father. Mitchel. And the man next to him was –
“Cedric!” she screamed, her decision to keep quiet long gone by now. “Cedric, run!”
She was too late. The man in black lunged forward, slashing through Cedric’s neck, murmuring something as he did so. All she could make out was, “My coven. My coven. My coven.” And then his head snapped up, and she recognized those eyes.
Westley.
Spinning on her heels, she tried to run. Not caring now if she got out of the woods, just as long as she got away. Here her breath still caught in her throat and her heart seemed to thunder in her ears to the beat of the footsteps behind her and all she could hear was Westley’s voice, echoing through the trees.
“My coven, my coven, my coven...”
Ravyn sat up, hand over her chest. She’d been sleeping, but it still felt as if she’d been running, the pain sharp until she took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. At her feet, Puck looked up at her, then snuggled back into her previous position.
She blinked a few times in the darkness. The last thing Ravyn remembered was getting to Cedric’s car and he said it wouldn’t be very long until they were in Scarlet Oak. So this had to be where he lived – or so she thought. Ced wouldn’t leave her alone, especially not now.
Stretching, Ravyn slid off the couch, trying not to disturb the dog as she did so. Was Puck allowed on the couch? Ravyn was too tired to care. She didn’t even know what time it was, just that it was nighttime. Everything was quiet, so she assumed it was later rather than earlier. She wondered what time zone they were in; she’d forgotten to ask.
Cedric had said there was a spare bedroom for her, somewhere in the apartment. At the moment she was mostly curious as to where he was, the dream still vivid in her mind – Westley murdering them, Cedric and their father. All Ravyn needed was a little reassurance that he was okay, that she’d done the right thing in leaving England.
The first bedroom she found was clearly the spare, nothing more than a bed and a dresser with a mirror above it. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and frowned. Even in the darkness she looked a mess, hair uncombed, the previous day’s mascara and eye shadow smudged along her eyes. First thing she was doing in the morning, whenever that might be, was taking a shower and fixing her hair.
Cedric had brought her things to this room; her bag was on one end of the bed, her suitcase leaned in the corner. Ravyn couldn't make sense of it now. All she wanted to know was if Cedric was all right. She didn’t even need to wake him up, so long as she knew where he was, could see him with her own eyes.
Moving out into the hallway, her feet didn’t make a sound as she made her way along the wood floor. Either the dog was already used to her presence or really sleeping, because Puck too stayed quiet. The door at the end of the hall had to be Cedric’s.
And she was right. He was sprawled out under the covers, his phone still next to him on the bed. Had he called someone after they got home? Maybe his mystery girl, Peyton, the one he’d bought a gift for. Ravyn tip-toed to his bedside and moved the phone to his nightstand. She’d never pegged Ced to own an iPhone, but she knew they weren’t cheap and they only needed to buy one phone the next morning, hers.
He looked peaceful, while he slept. Nightmares weren’t plaguing him like they did Ravyn. For a moment, she was all of five years old again, sneaking into his room because of a bad dream or a monster under the bed or one of a million other fears children had. Ravyn always went to Cedric in those situations, as he’d been the one to take care of her, more so than Mitchel had. It wasn’t that her father didn’t love her; Ravyn knew he did. He had to. It was just always hard, to be the daughter their mother died to have.
Mitchel. In fleeing England, had she left her father to die? Without her blood, could Westley still perform the ritual sacrifice and become leader of the coven? Her dream seemed to accuse her of this and she reached out for Cedric, almost touching his shoulder.
No. She was stronger than that, she thought. She’d let him sleep.
Still, she didn’t want to be alone. The dog had all but taken her couch and Ravyn would have never slept there anyway if she hadn’t already been out when Cedric put her there. And her new bed – the one she assumed was hers, anyway, after all that’s where Ced had put her things – it would be cold and she would have a hard time sleeping anyway, with the rain and the new place and everything on her mind.
His bed looked big enough for the two of them and the next thing she knew she was slipping out of her shoes and under the covers. The pillows were fluffy on this side, too fluffy, like they’d never been used and Ravyn frowned. Cedric had been sleeping alone, she knew now. Since Amelia, he deserved better than that.
He stirred a little when she climbed in, but he didn’t wake. He needed sleep, too. Listening to his breathing, Ravyn closed her eyes. Westley couldn’t touch them here, and their father had been leader of the coven long enough to fight off whatever advances Westley might make.
She had to believe that.
With that thought in mind, she drifted off to the sound of the rain outside, of Cedric next to her, and this time she didn’t dream.