Fic: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare), Chapter 2
Title: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare)
Chapter 2
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,714
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. It just gets stranger and stranger...
Previous Chapters: 1
It had been a very trying day for Bret.
Well, day might be subjective.
Bret had no idea how long all these events had gone on for, nor what time it was. Nevertheless, too much had happened too quickly for him to not feel...overwhelmed.
After all, how did one cope when they woke up, no memory of where exactly they had last been only to find themselves in a dungeon and then surrounded by people they thought they knew but apparently didn't?
And yes, this made no sense, but then so little did.
All Bret could manage to piece together at the moment was that Jemaine had his lips on his. Or not Jemaine so much as Jemayn. Yes, it was all very confusing. And trying. And just...
Bret grunted, his arms worming between them, pushing the other man away, "Flip, Jemaine! What are you doing?!"
Bret wished his voice didn't sound quite so hysterical, but this was how he felt.
Jemayn looked at him strangely, "You say my name in such an odd manner, Bretta."
"Bret, Bret," Bret breathed, running his hands through his hair, gripping at his skull, desperate for something real and solid, "Name's Bret, not-"
Jemayn shook his head, "Too true, a shortened version of your given name, yes, but...you have never asked me to call you such before."
"Well," Bret pressed his fingers to his eyes now, not willing to look at the man in front of him, "Well I am now, all right? Just...call me that from now on...okay?"
Jemayn seemed troubled by this, but nodded, "Very well."
"Okay..."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them and Bret finally made himself look at the man in front of him. He was Jemaine, wasn't he? Yes, the same shaggy dark hair, the same sideburns, the same eyes and the lips, well, the lips were unmistakable. No glasses and certainly no sense of normal clothing, but, still...it was Jemaine.
But a Jemaine with such a...different air about him. One that was so...masculine. Really, Bret felt terribly out of place. He felt even slimmer and more slight than usual. He felt...well...like a girl and it was exasperating.
Not to mention Jemaine was looking at him like, well, like...
Jemayn's hand brushed at his cheek again, fingers gentle as he traced a path along his jawbone, "Are you all right, my thrall? You look troubled."
"I...I don't..."
"And you would deny me your kiss?"
Bret swallowed, blinking rapidly, "Jemaine...we don't...I'm not..."
Jemayn drew close, his breath bathing Bret's face, his gaze on Bret's mouth, "What did they do to you?"
Bret shivered and his hands went to Jemaine's front again, pushing against him ineffectually, "Jemaine...no...get-get off..."
A flash of hurt crossed Jemayn's features, but so quickly Bret wasn't sure he didn't imagine it. Regardless, he felt the need to explain, "I...Jemaine...don't kiss me again."
"Why not?"
"I," Bret didn't know why he struggled for an answer, this should have been a no brainier. Finally the words came, "I'm not...gay."
"Gay?" Jemayn said this word as if he had never heard it before.
"Yeah, mate. I'm not...I like ladies," Jemayn continued to look lost so Bret continued, doing his best to explain something he felt should be common knowledge, "You like ladies...we both...we're not...you-you shouldn't kiss me. I don't...I don't like it."
Jemayn grinned now, his face almost gloating as he raised one eyebrow, "Don't you?"
"I, um, no," Bret said apprehensively, then, with more feeling, "No, I don't."
"This is not what you said when last we shared my bed."
Bret's eyes widened and he swallowed, throat dry as he breathed out, "When-when we...what?"
Jemayn's smile was lazy now, "Grant you, thanks to this...debacle, it has been some time...but...the thought of it stays fresh in my memory...as I imagine it does in yours."
"Um...sorry...no," Bret whispered, shaking his head, "Don't-don't remember that."
Jemayn frowned, face full of concern now, "No?"
"N-No."
Jemayn looked him over, then cursed, "By Odin's teeth, Taika had the right of you. Your head looks like a well crushed grape. It took my eyes a minute to adjust, but now I see," Jemayn's fingers flew over various parts of Bret's head but Bret was still caught on his words, "Odin? Who-?"
Jemayn pulled away from him, but only just enough to take his hand, "Come, we shall go to the ship. Mayhap we can find the reason behind your loss in memory."
Bret, completely stumped, had no choice but to follow.
Once outside, Jemayn released Bret's hand, and when Bret saw the elaborate wooden boat that waited at the shore that was, conveniently, near what he realized was a castle behind him, well, he knew then that he had just completely lost his mind.
So...why not just go with it?
He boarded the ship with something of a wistful smile. There had to be some sort of madness to the ease with which he accepted his own insanity, but truly, what else could he do?
He was, however, relieved when it was Taika to whom he was handed over to for further examination. Taika resembled no one that Bret knew from the time when he had been sane, so he felt much more at ease around him than any of the others.
Taika led him to a small, private quarter within the ship and sat him down. He then took Bret's head in his hands, turning his face this way and that, inspecting one eye and then the other. Bret tried not to squirm too much under such heavy scrutiny. Taika released him and cleared his throat, "Well, Bretta, how do you feel?"
Bret couldn't help the bubble of unhinged laughter that escaped him. What a question! He shook his head, "Taika, I...I don't even know what to say to that."
"Jemayn tells me you know of us and yet there seem to be gaps in your memory."
Bret licked his lips and tried to think of the best way to answer. To say anything along the lines of 'I do know some of you, but from another dimension' would surely land him in hot water. And he had seen enough of swords and axes to last him a lifetime. Not to mention he didn't know if he was in another dimension.
After all, for all he knew, he could very well be drooling on himself in straight jacket somewhere. It was just that...everything felt so real. And it wasn't just the people or the situations, it was the little things too.
He could feel the wind carding through his hair and he could smell the ocean, the boat rocking lazily beneath his feet. And he was cold, god, was he cold. He wasn't even aware he had voiced this aloud until Taika draped something over his shoulders. Some rough wool blanket and Bret thanked him, cheeks reddening at the look the other man gave him.
This golden man before him, he was so kind and so, well, um, attractive. Not in a gay way! Just in a...standing-away-from-it-appreciating-beauty kind of way. Bret wasn't gay. Nor was Jemaine. Or Jemayn. Or...whatever.
Kiss or no, neither of them were...
Bret pressed a hand to his forehead. Christ. Jemaine had kissed him.
"Bretta?"
"Ah, flippin' hell, Taika, please...call me Bret, tell-tell everyone to call me Bret. Bretta sounds like...I don't know...a feminine product or something..."
Taika raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk on his face, "Such interesting words you use. Jemayn is right...you do talk strangely now. A side effect, perhaps, of your capture."
"Capture?"
Taika looked surprised now, "You do not even recall this?"
Bret shook his head and Taika sighed gravely, "Well...that is a problem."
"Please," Bret reached out a hand, touching Taika's arm, desperate, "Please...just...tell me. Give me...something."
Taika took in a deep breath, silent, and at first Bret was afraid he would speak no more, but then, "Very well...Bret...you are aware of our names, to be sure, so that, at least, is something of a comfort."
He cleared his throat before continuing, "Jemayn is our leader and your master. Long since have all we been together and never a better crew have you seen. We are often at sea, pillaging and trading and doing whatever takes our fancies. And, when we are not, we rest at hearth and home, farming and taking in life's more simple pleasures. More often than not, that is where you are...at Jemayn's home, watching over the stables and being a very fine thrall until...well, to make the tale as short as possible, you were taken."
"Taken?"
"Hmm, by Lord Marcus and his whore. Their plans for you I cannot say, but Jemayn...he does not take kindly to theft, much less of his own property and thus we set out to liberate you. Which, of course, we did quite easily, leading us to now."
Bret nodded weakly. He wanted to ask more, most importantly what exactly the nature of his relationship with Jemayn was, but, afraid to even broach the subject, instead asked softly, "You...you knew...in there. That-that I didn't...didn't want him to kill that man..."
Taika shrugged, "It is a gift, some say. My ability to occasionally see into the minds of others. My wife, Loren, she would call it a curse. Unless you were asking about our marriage bed, at which point it becomes a blessing," Taika laughed at Bret's blush and continued, "Whatever it may be, it has its' advantages. I immediately saw the change in you, the moment we entered that dungeon. Mayhap this is why Jemayn brought you to me, for I am not all that skilled in medicine, but I do know a thing or two about the mind."
"So...what," Bret shifted where he sat, anxious, "What do you get from my mind now?"
Taika breathed out heavily, "Confusion...great clouds of it. Jemayn...he will not be pleased."
Bret swallowed thickly, "Oh?"
Taika seemed sad, voice soft as he spoke, "He was expected to save you...and he did...in a sense...but in another," he shook his head, "Jemayn will not be pleased at all."
Bret didn't know why his eyes were tearing up but they were. He looked at Taika worriedly, "Am...am I...can I go?"
Taika nodded and Bret got to his feet shakily. As he walked he could feel the boat toss about beneath him. And while Bret had not been on a boat in a very, very long time it was obvious they were at sail.
The last time Bret could remember being on a boat he had been about seven or so, out fishing with his Uncle Mickey. The moment they had caught the first fish, the moment Bret had seen it struggling on the deck, a sharp hook in its mouth, he had burst into tears and vowed never to fish again. As such, he had spent very little time around boats.
Still, the sensation was unmistakable. Even more so in this large, wooden monstrosity. Bret tried his best to stay steady and couldn't help but find some dark humor in the fact that he wished that things were more stable so that walking was less of a chore.
Stable.
Yeah.
Right.
Things were not likely to be stable ever again.
Bret managed to slowly adjust to the ship and was relieved when he made his way out to the bow. This relief was quickly burned away when he saw Jemayn there, looking over the side at the water, his face dark.
Bret let out a little cough, not wanting to startle the other man and Jemayn turned, seeing him there. Jemayn took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away again, his gaze back on the water.
Bret was apprehensive. He didn't want to bother the other man, but...he was his friend. Wasn't he? Well, no, not really, he wasn't really Jemaine. Or well, he was, but not the Jemaine Bret knew. He was the Jemaine of this reality or of Bret's crazed subconscious or whatever.
Still...
Bret tip toed closer until the two men stood close to one another. Bret looked down at the water as well, voice quiet, "Looks deep, man."
Jemayn grunted and Bret took this as a questioning sound, so he explained, "The water, man, looks real deep."
Jemayn did not answer.
"Like...I bet you could drop a rock down there and it'd sink forever...never touch the bottom."
Silence.
"Or...or maybe it would sink 'till a mermaid caught it, or-"
"I have yet to speak to Taika," Jemayn interrupted, voice cold, "But I would imagine you are lost to me."
Bret swallowed, his pesky eyes watering again as Jemayn looked at him, his face an unreadable mask as he tossed out quietly, "Aren't you?"
"Aren't...aren't I, what?"
The unreadable mask fell away to something much more fierce and Bret felt a tingle of fear shoot through him as Jemayn came closer, deep in his personal space again, face close, "You are gone. You are here, bodily, yea, but your mind...you do not know me, you do not know yourself, you are not..."
Jemayn shook his head, eyes not meeting Bret's, "To think...I thought myself a hero."
Bret didn't know why, but, well...he wanted to touch him. Like, pat him on the shoulder or hug him or something. But he did nothing past gulping and swallowing, a lump in his throat.
Jemayn turned back to the edge of the boat, eyes back on the water, "Fresh hell this...to have you...and yet not."
Bret's mouth flapped silently a moment or two when he suddenly noticed something alarming, "You're bleeding!"
Jemayn gave him a strange look, then noticed that, indeed, his arm was bleeding. He had completely forgotten that Marcus had wounded him earlier. He shrugged lazily, "'Tis but a scratch."
Bret couldn't even stifle a chuckle, "Just a flesh wound?"
Jemayn looked at him oddly and, really, Bret shouldn't have been at all surprised that the man didn't catch the Monty Python reference. Oh, Jemaine would, surely, but Jemayn? Not so much. As it was, Bret only knew the quote because Dave had watched Holy Grail with them on one very boring Friday night.
Still, Jemayn responded, "Nay, 'tis not so deep."
Bret shook his head, serious now, "Still, your bleeding, man...you should-should get that checked out."
"Why would you care?" Jemayn asked then, his face sullen, almost pouting and Bret felt almost breathless at the look. It was so Jemaine. And in that instant Bret did care. Truly and deeply, as Jemayn continued, "Your earlier actions would dictate that you do not."
"I, no, man, I just...I didn't," Bret sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Look, Taika can tell you a bit more about it, but, my mind...it's not...in the right place yet and...and I wasn't...I wasn't ready. You know, for the - your mouth on my mouth...thing. But, mean, I don't...don't want you to be hurt," Bret was the one pouting now, "Please...your bleeding."
Jemayn looked at him and relented, "Very well, t'would make you happy..."
"Yes, yes it...t'would," Bret repeated and then mouthed the word to himself. What was the deal with all the misplaced 'T's? Bret had always had a terrible head for history. Considering the boat and the castle, they obviously weren't in the happy 2000's but to place the exact year was, to Bret, impossible.
Not to mention he was quite sure he was surrounded by historical inaccuracies regardless of the date. After all, they were on a large wooden ship that seemed more fitting to a pirate and yet had the strong, dragon head of a Viking longboat. And then there was the armor the men wore, which seemed fitting towards the time of the Crusades or King Arthur or whatever. Nothing seemed right.
Bret laughed dryly.
Nothing seemed right.
Of course.
He shook his head and looked back at the water.
....alsoooo does anyone know where I might be able to get my hands on some FOTC icons from that photoshoot I showed from Chapter 1?...'cause I'd be down...
Chapter 2
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,714
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. It just gets stranger and stranger...
Previous Chapters: 1
It had been a very trying day for Bret.
Well, day might be subjective.
Bret had no idea how long all these events had gone on for, nor what time it was. Nevertheless, too much had happened too quickly for him to not feel...overwhelmed.
After all, how did one cope when they woke up, no memory of where exactly they had last been only to find themselves in a dungeon and then surrounded by people they thought they knew but apparently didn't?
And yes, this made no sense, but then so little did.
All Bret could manage to piece together at the moment was that Jemaine had his lips on his. Or not Jemaine so much as Jemayn. Yes, it was all very confusing. And trying. And just...
Bret grunted, his arms worming between them, pushing the other man away, "Flip, Jemaine! What are you doing?!"
Bret wished his voice didn't sound quite so hysterical, but this was how he felt.
Jemayn looked at him strangely, "You say my name in such an odd manner, Bretta."
"Bret, Bret," Bret breathed, running his hands through his hair, gripping at his skull, desperate for something real and solid, "Name's Bret, not-"
Jemayn shook his head, "Too true, a shortened version of your given name, yes, but...you have never asked me to call you such before."
"Well," Bret pressed his fingers to his eyes now, not willing to look at the man in front of him, "Well I am now, all right? Just...call me that from now on...okay?"
Jemayn seemed troubled by this, but nodded, "Very well."
"Okay..."
An uncomfortable silence settled between them and Bret finally made himself look at the man in front of him. He was Jemaine, wasn't he? Yes, the same shaggy dark hair, the same sideburns, the same eyes and the lips, well, the lips were unmistakable. No glasses and certainly no sense of normal clothing, but, still...it was Jemaine.
But a Jemaine with such a...different air about him. One that was so...masculine. Really, Bret felt terribly out of place. He felt even slimmer and more slight than usual. He felt...well...like a girl and it was exasperating.
Not to mention Jemaine was looking at him like, well, like...
Jemayn's hand brushed at his cheek again, fingers gentle as he traced a path along his jawbone, "Are you all right, my thrall? You look troubled."
"I...I don't..."
"And you would deny me your kiss?"
Bret swallowed, blinking rapidly, "Jemaine...we don't...I'm not..."
Jemayn drew close, his breath bathing Bret's face, his gaze on Bret's mouth, "What did they do to you?"
Bret shivered and his hands went to Jemaine's front again, pushing against him ineffectually, "Jemaine...no...get-get off..."
A flash of hurt crossed Jemayn's features, but so quickly Bret wasn't sure he didn't imagine it. Regardless, he felt the need to explain, "I...Jemaine...don't kiss me again."
"Why not?"
"I," Bret didn't know why he struggled for an answer, this should have been a no brainier. Finally the words came, "I'm not...gay."
"Gay?" Jemayn said this word as if he had never heard it before.
"Yeah, mate. I'm not...I like ladies," Jemayn continued to look lost so Bret continued, doing his best to explain something he felt should be common knowledge, "You like ladies...we both...we're not...you-you shouldn't kiss me. I don't...I don't like it."
Jemayn grinned now, his face almost gloating as he raised one eyebrow, "Don't you?"
"I, um, no," Bret said apprehensively, then, with more feeling, "No, I don't."
"This is not what you said when last we shared my bed."
Bret's eyes widened and he swallowed, throat dry as he breathed out, "When-when we...what?"
Jemayn's smile was lazy now, "Grant you, thanks to this...debacle, it has been some time...but...the thought of it stays fresh in my memory...as I imagine it does in yours."
"Um...sorry...no," Bret whispered, shaking his head, "Don't-don't remember that."
Jemayn frowned, face full of concern now, "No?"
"N-No."
Jemayn looked him over, then cursed, "By Odin's teeth, Taika had the right of you. Your head looks like a well crushed grape. It took my eyes a minute to adjust, but now I see," Jemayn's fingers flew over various parts of Bret's head but Bret was still caught on his words, "Odin? Who-?"
Jemayn pulled away from him, but only just enough to take his hand, "Come, we shall go to the ship. Mayhap we can find the reason behind your loss in memory."
Bret, completely stumped, had no choice but to follow.
Once outside, Jemayn released Bret's hand, and when Bret saw the elaborate wooden boat that waited at the shore that was, conveniently, near what he realized was a castle behind him, well, he knew then that he had just completely lost his mind.
So...why not just go with it?
He boarded the ship with something of a wistful smile. There had to be some sort of madness to the ease with which he accepted his own insanity, but truly, what else could he do?
He was, however, relieved when it was Taika to whom he was handed over to for further examination. Taika resembled no one that Bret knew from the time when he had been sane, so he felt much more at ease around him than any of the others.
Taika led him to a small, private quarter within the ship and sat him down. He then took Bret's head in his hands, turning his face this way and that, inspecting one eye and then the other. Bret tried not to squirm too much under such heavy scrutiny. Taika released him and cleared his throat, "Well, Bretta, how do you feel?"
Bret couldn't help the bubble of unhinged laughter that escaped him. What a question! He shook his head, "Taika, I...I don't even know what to say to that."
"Jemayn tells me you know of us and yet there seem to be gaps in your memory."
Bret licked his lips and tried to think of the best way to answer. To say anything along the lines of 'I do know some of you, but from another dimension' would surely land him in hot water. And he had seen enough of swords and axes to last him a lifetime. Not to mention he didn't know if he was in another dimension.
After all, for all he knew, he could very well be drooling on himself in straight jacket somewhere. It was just that...everything felt so real. And it wasn't just the people or the situations, it was the little things too.
He could feel the wind carding through his hair and he could smell the ocean, the boat rocking lazily beneath his feet. And he was cold, god, was he cold. He wasn't even aware he had voiced this aloud until Taika draped something over his shoulders. Some rough wool blanket and Bret thanked him, cheeks reddening at the look the other man gave him.
This golden man before him, he was so kind and so, well, um, attractive. Not in a gay way! Just in a...standing-away-from-it-appreciating-beauty kind of way. Bret wasn't gay. Nor was Jemaine. Or Jemayn. Or...whatever.
Kiss or no, neither of them were...
Bret pressed a hand to his forehead. Christ. Jemaine had kissed him.
"Bretta?"
"Ah, flippin' hell, Taika, please...call me Bret, tell-tell everyone to call me Bret. Bretta sounds like...I don't know...a feminine product or something..."
Taika raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk on his face, "Such interesting words you use. Jemayn is right...you do talk strangely now. A side effect, perhaps, of your capture."
"Capture?"
Taika looked surprised now, "You do not even recall this?"
Bret shook his head and Taika sighed gravely, "Well...that is a problem."
"Please," Bret reached out a hand, touching Taika's arm, desperate, "Please...just...tell me. Give me...something."
Taika took in a deep breath, silent, and at first Bret was afraid he would speak no more, but then, "Very well...Bret...you are aware of our names, to be sure, so that, at least, is something of a comfort."
He cleared his throat before continuing, "Jemayn is our leader and your master. Long since have all we been together and never a better crew have you seen. We are often at sea, pillaging and trading and doing whatever takes our fancies. And, when we are not, we rest at hearth and home, farming and taking in life's more simple pleasures. More often than not, that is where you are...at Jemayn's home, watching over the stables and being a very fine thrall until...well, to make the tale as short as possible, you were taken."
"Taken?"
"Hmm, by Lord Marcus and his whore. Their plans for you I cannot say, but Jemayn...he does not take kindly to theft, much less of his own property and thus we set out to liberate you. Which, of course, we did quite easily, leading us to now."
Bret nodded weakly. He wanted to ask more, most importantly what exactly the nature of his relationship with Jemayn was, but, afraid to even broach the subject, instead asked softly, "You...you knew...in there. That-that I didn't...didn't want him to kill that man..."
Taika shrugged, "It is a gift, some say. My ability to occasionally see into the minds of others. My wife, Loren, she would call it a curse. Unless you were asking about our marriage bed, at which point it becomes a blessing," Taika laughed at Bret's blush and continued, "Whatever it may be, it has its' advantages. I immediately saw the change in you, the moment we entered that dungeon. Mayhap this is why Jemayn brought you to me, for I am not all that skilled in medicine, but I do know a thing or two about the mind."
"So...what," Bret shifted where he sat, anxious, "What do you get from my mind now?"
Taika breathed out heavily, "Confusion...great clouds of it. Jemayn...he will not be pleased."
Bret swallowed thickly, "Oh?"
Taika seemed sad, voice soft as he spoke, "He was expected to save you...and he did...in a sense...but in another," he shook his head, "Jemayn will not be pleased at all."
Bret didn't know why his eyes were tearing up but they were. He looked at Taika worriedly, "Am...am I...can I go?"
Taika nodded and Bret got to his feet shakily. As he walked he could feel the boat toss about beneath him. And while Bret had not been on a boat in a very, very long time it was obvious they were at sail.
The last time Bret could remember being on a boat he had been about seven or so, out fishing with his Uncle Mickey. The moment they had caught the first fish, the moment Bret had seen it struggling on the deck, a sharp hook in its mouth, he had burst into tears and vowed never to fish again. As such, he had spent very little time around boats.
Still, the sensation was unmistakable. Even more so in this large, wooden monstrosity. Bret tried his best to stay steady and couldn't help but find some dark humor in the fact that he wished that things were more stable so that walking was less of a chore.
Stable.
Yeah.
Right.
Things were not likely to be stable ever again.
Bret managed to slowly adjust to the ship and was relieved when he made his way out to the bow. This relief was quickly burned away when he saw Jemayn there, looking over the side at the water, his face dark.
Bret let out a little cough, not wanting to startle the other man and Jemayn turned, seeing him there. Jemayn took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away again, his gaze back on the water.
Bret was apprehensive. He didn't want to bother the other man, but...he was his friend. Wasn't he? Well, no, not really, he wasn't really Jemaine. Or well, he was, but not the Jemaine Bret knew. He was the Jemaine of this reality or of Bret's crazed subconscious or whatever.
Still...
Bret tip toed closer until the two men stood close to one another. Bret looked down at the water as well, voice quiet, "Looks deep, man."
Jemayn grunted and Bret took this as a questioning sound, so he explained, "The water, man, looks real deep."
Jemayn did not answer.
"Like...I bet you could drop a rock down there and it'd sink forever...never touch the bottom."
Silence.
"Or...or maybe it would sink 'till a mermaid caught it, or-"
"I have yet to speak to Taika," Jemayn interrupted, voice cold, "But I would imagine you are lost to me."
Bret swallowed, his pesky eyes watering again as Jemayn looked at him, his face an unreadable mask as he tossed out quietly, "Aren't you?"
"Aren't...aren't I, what?"
The unreadable mask fell away to something much more fierce and Bret felt a tingle of fear shoot through him as Jemayn came closer, deep in his personal space again, face close, "You are gone. You are here, bodily, yea, but your mind...you do not know me, you do not know yourself, you are not..."
Jemayn shook his head, eyes not meeting Bret's, "To think...I thought myself a hero."
Bret didn't know why, but, well...he wanted to touch him. Like, pat him on the shoulder or hug him or something. But he did nothing past gulping and swallowing, a lump in his throat.
Jemayn turned back to the edge of the boat, eyes back on the water, "Fresh hell this...to have you...and yet not."
Bret's mouth flapped silently a moment or two when he suddenly noticed something alarming, "You're bleeding!"
Jemayn gave him a strange look, then noticed that, indeed, his arm was bleeding. He had completely forgotten that Marcus had wounded him earlier. He shrugged lazily, "'Tis but a scratch."
Bret couldn't even stifle a chuckle, "Just a flesh wound?"
Jemayn looked at him oddly and, really, Bret shouldn't have been at all surprised that the man didn't catch the Monty Python reference. Oh, Jemaine would, surely, but Jemayn? Not so much. As it was, Bret only knew the quote because Dave had watched Holy Grail with them on one very boring Friday night.
Still, Jemayn responded, "Nay, 'tis not so deep."
Bret shook his head, serious now, "Still, your bleeding, man...you should-should get that checked out."
"Why would you care?" Jemayn asked then, his face sullen, almost pouting and Bret felt almost breathless at the look. It was so Jemaine. And in that instant Bret did care. Truly and deeply, as Jemayn continued, "Your earlier actions would dictate that you do not."
"I, no, man, I just...I didn't," Bret sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Look, Taika can tell you a bit more about it, but, my mind...it's not...in the right place yet and...and I wasn't...I wasn't ready. You know, for the - your mouth on my mouth...thing. But, mean, I don't...don't want you to be hurt," Bret was the one pouting now, "Please...your bleeding."
Jemayn looked at him and relented, "Very well, t'would make you happy..."
"Yes, yes it...t'would," Bret repeated and then mouthed the word to himself. What was the deal with all the misplaced 'T's? Bret had always had a terrible head for history. Considering the boat and the castle, they obviously weren't in the happy 2000's but to place the exact year was, to Bret, impossible.
Not to mention he was quite sure he was surrounded by historical inaccuracies regardless of the date. After all, they were on a large wooden ship that seemed more fitting to a pirate and yet had the strong, dragon head of a Viking longboat. And then there was the armor the men wore, which seemed fitting towards the time of the Crusades or King Arthur or whatever. Nothing seemed right.
Bret laughed dryly.
Nothing seemed right.
Of course.
He shook his head and looked back at the water.
....alsoooo does anyone know where I might be able to get my hands on some FOTC icons from that photoshoot I showed from Chapter 1?...'cause I'd be down...