For a twenty year old, I seem to really struggle with the concept of Wednesdays.
Not the concept actually, just the fact they occur every week WAY before I am ready for them.
Like seriously, how does this constantly surprise me? What is wrong with me?
Anyway, moving on from my inability to be ready for Wednesdays. This week as so far been INSANELY unproductive. I didn’t intend on taking a break, it just sort of happened. Hopefully the rest of this week will be more productive! Ergh. My fatigue of doom has also been acting up, so I spent ALL of Monday in bed too tired to do anything, and most of Tuesday in bed. I’ve done a bit more today (bought a laptop), but that was after a LONG sleep, and I still feel exhausted. Someone remind me to make a drs appointment so get my cough checked out (again) and work out the deal behind all of this fatigue.
That’s all I have to update you all on for today. Exciting, I know.
My snippets are usually super short, but to make up for my complete failure to post frequently and visit anyone else, I’ve decided to provide a long snippet. I have 36 short paragraphs for 3×12. Heads up, this hasn’t really been edited, so it might not be the best quality.
It wasn’t the pounding in Viggo’s head that woke him, but a gentle, persistent prodding.
“What?” Viggo opened his eyes groggily, struggling to focus on the blurred shape looming over him.
“Are you alright?” The high pitched voice stung at his already throbbing head, making him clutch it.
“Shhh.” As his eyes slowly began to focus on his surroundings, he realised that not only was the person leaning over him a complete stranger, but they were also holding his sword casually. “Shit!” Pain shot through him as he tried to pull himself into an upright position, and he collapsed uselessly onto the floor.
“I don’t think you should be moving around like that. You look pretty beat up.”
He didn’t want to admit it, but Viggo felt pretty beat up. His vision was still swimming, and the scent of dried blood filled his nostrils, accompanied by the stench of whatever exactly covered the floor he was lying on. Although he couldn’t see his arms, they felt bruised and swollen, and it felt as though his skull had been shattered.
“What happened in here anyway? This place looks like there was a battle or something!” The girl was looking around curiously, his blade still clutched in her hands. “Is this yours?”
“Yes.” Viggo motioned to grab his sword, but fell short, his arm dropping to the ground painfully. “Who are you?”
The girl sprung to her feet in a movement so effortless it made Viggo want to throttle her. “Dunno. Who are you?”
Rolling his eyes, Viggo inched himself upright, trying desperately to ignore the stabbing pains that filled his body. “I’m not in the mood for games, girl. Give me back my sword and leave me be.”
She cocked her head as though considering his offer, then shrugged and dropped the blade to the ground with a clatter. “There you go. Can you reach it? You look like you’re in trouble.”
Clenching his teeth, Viggo stretched forwards and clutched at the hilt of his sword which was still just out of reach. “Can you help me?”
The girl shrugged. “Don’t you want me to leave you be? I swear that’s what you just said.”
Whether it was because she sensed the anger radiating dangerously out of him, or because she felt sorry for him, the girl bent down to pick up the sword and handed it carefully to Viggo. “You’d better not stab me.”
“I was contemplating it.”
To his surprise, she grinned and offered him her hand. “Ema. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Confused, he took her hand and shook it. “Viggo.”
“So Viggo,” Ema began, dropping to the ground with her legs crossed beside him. “You must have been in a nasty fight.”
Viggo shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
“Not surprising considering the state of you!” Ema snorted. “Not that I want to mock you at all. You look like you could use some help, which I am happy to provide. For a fee.”
“No.” Viggo pulled his sword towards him and began to stand, his legs screaming in protest. “No payment, and no help. I don’t need any.” Just as he spoke, his legs gave way and sent him crashing back to the floor, narrowly missing impaling himself on his own sword.
Ema snorted again. “That would be a lot more convincing if you could stand by yourself. But if you insist, I could just leave you here to wait for someone else to find you. I doubt you’re lucky enough to encounter two generous strangers in a row. But if you want to risk it, I won’t stop you.” She jumped to her feet nimbly and smiled. “Good luck, Viggo.”
Viggo stared at her for a moment as she turned to leave, until his pain overcame his stubborn pride. “Wait!”
Ema turned back expectantly, her face alight with the same cheeky grin she had been wearing the entire time. “Yes?”
Sighing, he pulled himself upright using an overturned table as support, leaving his blade uselessly on the floor. He stood shakily, glaring at her. “I may need your help. What sort of payment do you need?”
“That depends. Proper payment though. I’m not that sort of girl.”
“And I’m not that sort of man. Can you hand me my sword again?”
Ema obliged. Standing next to him, he noticed how short she was, barely reaching his chest. Her hair was cut short as well, and her small nose was dusted with a layer of freckles. If it hadn’t been for her worn travelling clothes, he wouldn’t have believed that she could help him. He still didn’t know exactly why he was agreeing, aside from the fact it was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn’t even stand up by himself, let alone walk anywhere. “How exactly do you intend on helping me?”
“Well, that depends. Who exactly are you, and what happened to lead you to where we are now?”
“What do you mean?” Viggo raised his eyebrow suspiciously. The last thing he needed was someone else he couldn’t trust, or someone asking too many questions.
“How can I help you if I don’t know anything about you? Besides, by the looks of things I’ve either signed up to help a fugitive or some sort of idiot who seeks out tavern fights. Neither of these scare me away, I’d just like to know what I’m in for.”
Viggo paused. He could hear the voices of the Rebellion leaders in the back of his head screaming at him, warning him that secrecy was the most important, that no one else could be trusted. At the same time, he heard the voice of his wife, begging him to come home. Unless something drastically changed within a very short space of time, there was no way he would make it home without some sort of assistance. Which meant, despite everything he had been taught, he needed to trust this strange girl who was willing to help him. “I wouldn’t say I’m a fugitive, but I’m not particularly popular.”
Ema’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, she looked even happier, as though pleased that she had managed to land herself with someone who may or may not have been wanted by soldiers throughout Taneka. Then again, he was paying, so perhaps it didn’t actually matter who he was. “I knew it! You’re part of the Rebellion, aren’t you?”
“Gods, keep your damned voice down. You don’t know who could still be around!” Viggo whispered violently. “What’s wrong with you?”
Ema’s grin only faltered slightly. “Sorry. But you are, aren’t you?”