"You truly believe that my village is descended from two people who used to rule our kingdom? Whose family would still be ruling if they hadn't been exiled?"
"Yes," Alexander responded, "And anybody who's disappeared over the years did so because they found that information and started asking questions." Natasha caught Alexander's eyes, seeing in the dark that he was judging her own expression, waiting for her own reaction. She wasn't sure how to process this information, however. Even though Alexander had spoken about this yesterday, their interruption at the bar and Natasha's determination to keep herself busy all day had prevented her from thinking too much about what he had told her. In the silence between them now, Natasha let the full weight of his words sink in.
"So my father, then? And Ky?" She finally spoke, "They must've found that information, that's why they were taken. Because they weren't out in the middle of the night when they disappeared, they were both taken from their beds, but the Guards never did that. They weren't supposed to come into our homes." Natasha replayed the night she escaped in her mind, feeling her heart speed up at the revelation, at the idea that somewhere in her own town were answers she was looking for.
"That makes sense. When Ky helped me escape, he told me that everything I thought I knew was a lie, so he must have known something. And my father, he told me there were things I didn't understand. They must've known something, and instead of choosing death, they chose to serve. Ky was doing it to protect us, I know that. He wouldn't have helped me escape otherwise. I bet my father was, too. I think he was trying to protect me. Maybe he somehow knew that John wouldn't let him kill me, that I'd escape in some way and that I could be free." The words tumbled out of her mouth faster than her mind could wrap around the thoughts, and she felt adrenaline begin to course through her veins, mixing with the liberation at the idea that perhaps her father wasn't so cruel after all.
"How hard is it to get into the village?" She turned to Alexander, a plan blossoming through her mind. Alexander looked at her skeptically, and Natasha could see in his expression that he knew what she was thinking, and he thought it was a bad idea.
"Immensely difficult," he responded, "especially at night. The entire town is being patrolled by the guards, the entire perimeter surrounded. It'd be nearly impossible to get in, especially now that they know somebody has managed to escape. They would have increased their patrol around the town's border. You'd never make it past them without being captured or killed."
"Maybe, but many of them were also killed the other night. There can't be that many left to patrol both around and inside of the village. And you must know how to get in, right? How the spies get past the mountain?"
"Natasha," Alexander sighed, "it is not a good idea for you to go back. You have to trust me." The fact that he hadn't denied that he knew how to get back to the village told Natasha that he knew exactly how to get her inside.
"You do, I knew it. You have to-"
"No, Natasha. I won't help you." With that, Alexander stood up and descended the steps, leaving Natasha to stare past him, incensed. Angrily, she shoved her papers and charcoal together and rushed down the steps, aware of both Alexander and the few remaining men watching her as she disappeared back into her room, completely forgetting that John had retreated there already. Angrily, she shut the door loudly and leaned against it, closing her eyes tightly as she clutched her sketchbook tightly against her chest.
"Natasha?" For the second time tonight, the sound of somebody speaking her name made her jump. She almost dropped her sketches as she looked across the dark room at the sound of the sleepy voice, her eyes landing on John's figure on the bed. He had propped himself up on his elbow and was facing her, and Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized he was shirtless.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, breathing in slowly in attempts to calm her beating heart.
"Is something wrong?" The dazed rumble of his voice gave way to an alertness, and Natasha shook her head quickly to prevent him from getting out of bed.
"No, no, I'm sorry. Everything's fine." She pushed herself off the door but didn't move away from it as she watched John fall back into the bed, sighing heavily. She waited quietly, hoping he would fall back asleep so she could sneak back out of the room, a plan still formulating in her mind on how to get off the boat, back on shore, and inside her village. After a few long moments, Natasha moved her arm backwards towards the doorknob, glancing down as her fingers brushed against the metal.
"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to come to bed?" Natasha heard John say quietly, and her heart sped up in her chest again.
"Excuse me?" She stammered, looking at his body and the small space left next to him on the mattress, wondering if he really meant for her to sleep there next to him.
"You spent all day training, I can tell you're sore by the way you've been moving all night. We set sail tomorrow and if you want to gain the men's favor you'll do well to pitch in on deck tomorrow. You need sleep." She watched him close his eyes again and breath in and out heavily, seeming at ease as Natasha's heart clamored in her chest and heat rose into her cheeks.
"I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight."
"I've already told you there's nowhere else to sleep." Natasha watched as he moved over slightly, making as much space as possible on the small bed. A silence lingered between them, and Natasha debated just walking out now, but she feared if she left then John would follow, and she couldn't risk that if she needed to be able to sneak off the ship.
Reluctantly, Natasha stepped into the room, leaving her sketchbook on John's desk. She unlaced her shoes and pulled them off, but left them at the foot of the bed for easy access when she was sure John was asleep and she could leave the room. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the bed beside John, looking up at the ceiling, as something John had just said finally sank in.
"You said I'll have to pitch in tomorrow?" She asked, turning her head to look at him. "I thought I was supposed to just stay locked up in your room all day?" John opened his eyes and looked at her again, a small smirk on his lips. Natasha's heart continued to race at their proximity, and the way he was looking at her.
"We both know the only way you'd stay in this room is if I tied you to this bed, and while I'm not above doing that, something tells me you'd manage to find your way out of that eventually. If you're not going to do what I ask, you might as well make yourself useful." Natasha's breath caught in her throat and she hoped John couldn't see how her cheeks flamed and reddened at his comment before he rolled over onto his side, facing away from her, a smirk still on his lips. Natasha stared at his back, caught at the sight of what looked like scars that laced down the sinuous muscles. The urge to ask him what they were from rose inside of her, but when he inhaled again slowly, she turned away from him instead, waiting for him to fall asleep.
For what felt like hours she lied there, staring out at the darkness above her as any lingering voices beyond the door finally faded away, and the only noises she was left with were the waves gently rocking the boat, the sound of John breathing beside her, and the thoughts screaming in her head.
Lying next to him, for a moment she had thought about just staying here and not risking the trip back to her home, but the longer she laid there unable to fall asleep, the more convinced she became that she had to try. Tomorrow they would leave, sail further away from Natasha's home until it would be nearly impossible for her to get back on her own. If she wanted to go back, this was her only chance.
Sitting up, Natasha tucked her dagger into her boot and took the sword Alexander had given her and hung it from her hip. Slowly, she crept from her room, moving quietly out towards the main deck. It was abandoned, even those who had fallen asleep there amidst their drinking had found their way below deck, and the night was quiet around her. After a long pause, convinced that nobody was on board to watch, Natasha made her way to the side of the ship and the rowboats that would take her back to shore.
******
A/N: This used to be part of Chapter Nine, but I added so much to it that I decided to split Nine in 2, so this is sort of a "Part Two" of Chapter Nine, if that makes sense? I kind of love the scene between John and Natasha. Let me know what you think!
Edited 9/8/18
YOU ARE READING
The Nightingale
Adventure[Completed] [Editing/Re-Writing] [10/9/19] For hundreds of years Natasha and the rest of her village have been prisoners within their own town, their own homes, as a punishment for what she believes was a failed revolution attempt against their unju...
