Rules Were Made to be Broken {Watty Awards 2012 Finalist}

Chapter Three

Welcome to the next leg of your journey! LOL, kidding. Enjoy this chapter everyone! :)

*EDITED*

CHAPTER THREE

I awoke; sweat beading on my forehead as I gasped for breath, the memories overwhelming me. Instantly, I leapt to my feet, heart racing. I stopped as it hit me, where was I? Then I remembered, Finn…the fire, and his last words to me as I slipped into sleep.

From what I could see, I had been unceremoniously dumped onto the floor of a roughly hewn tent. It was sparsely furnished, with only a small, easily folding bed that had two blankets messily arranged in pretence of tidiness. I woozily walked around to the other side of the bed, and gasped as I recognised the leather bag lying on the floor. Picking it up, I ran my fingers over the worn leather, and feeling the neat stitches, still as tight as the day I had finished it.

This was Finn’s I had given it to him on his 13th birthday, 4 years ago. I didn’t even know he still had it. Inside the small bag, I found an interesting array of objects. A silver cross, a faded photograph, of Finn and I, a scratched silver whistle from his grandmother, and a small golden ring embedded with a single clear stone. I could feel the familiar pricking of tears in my eyes as I recognised the gift he had given me the day before we left for war.

                            “Eva!” he had called out as I walked away. I turned around to see him holding out the tiny ring to me, and even without his explanation I knew what it meant to him. It had been his mother’s, and before she died, she had told him to give it to the girl that he thought would be with him forever.

                            “Finn…are you sure?” I asked. He nodded, just slipping it onto my finger carefully.

                            “Look after it, Eva,”

                            “I will, I promise,”

He turned back in the direction of his tent, but before he disappeared into its rough folds, he called back to me,

                            “Don’t forget-“

                            “I got it, don’t worry,” I interrupted, pulling out my dagger. He nodded in satisfaction, and we both went our separate ways to finish getting ready.

The memories he kept chained in this bag...they were almost suffocating me, in the confines of his tent.

                            “Eva, you’re awake,”

I jumped at the proximity of his voice, and turned swiftly to see Finn entering his tent. I handed him the bag without a word, and I saw his face harden with emotion, anger or sadness I couldn’t tell.

                            “Askove wants to see you,” He said dispassionately and I nodded, carefully searching his face for any trace of feelings. What had happened to the open, carefree boy I had known? Suddenly I was angry, angry at his cold, unfeeling façade.

                            “I don’t want to see him,” I said, turning away so he wouldn’t see the hurt in my eyes.

                            “He’s the leader of the Rebellion. You can’t exactly refuse, Eva,” His voice held a hint of sarcasm, but it was still not him. This wasn’t the Finn I knew.