The Right Thing

Francis awoke from a deep sleep and he could tell there was someone in his room. before he could reach for a weapon he heard the voice of his one true love. "Shh it's just me" he relaxed and went for the lamp. "No leave it off", Rebecca’s voice came to him clearly. "Tonight is a good night for the shadows. "That's what I'm afraid of.",said the paladin. "He is keeping too much in the shadows. I am worried.”
"Give him time there is a lot going on for him." She sat on the bed beside him and started to rub his shoulders. He looked are her in the moonlight. She was sitting silhouetted against light streaming into to the window, hiding her features but clearly showing her outline. She was wearing. only her long hair. and from the angle he could clearly see the perfection in her form. She continued to rub his shoulder and arm and he was amazed at how real it felt. Too real. Not only could he feel her touch but he could feel the hot moistness of her breath. He could feel the bed move under her weight. He knew then with certainty something was wrong. Rebecca was a spirit and whomever was here was not.
He got up and summoned light. He saw the differences immediately. Her hair was a darker shade of red. Her face too perfect. Her body more streamlined. "Gollian?" It was Gillian's face and body but the eyes were Rebecca's. "Rebecca? What are you doing?"
“We can be together this way. Finally. I’m just borrowing Gillian for a little while.” She said, the voice and mannerism, still explicitly that of the former Druid. “After everything you have been through the last few days, you deserve this.” Francis didn’t know what to say. There was no denying how beautiful Gillian was, and with Rebecca’s voice and movements…
“I can’t believe that Gillian would agree to this:.” Then he saw it and his world came crashing down. That one second of shame, the downward look of the eyes, and the fact that she had still not looked back, told him all he needed to know. “Rebecca, Love. How could you?”
“She’s a cleric of Derrilyn, it is not as though this is unusual for her. She” Francis cut her off.
“Get out NOW!” Rebecca looked at him, her eyes pleading from Gillian’s face. “Now, or I will force you out.” Suddenly her expression changed from stubbornness to grief, and then to complete confusion. Her eyes had returned to those of Gillian’s and the cleric looked down at her naked form. She looked back up at Francis, and before he could say anything, she ran from the small guesthouse. He started to follow, but really had nothing he could say to make things better. He sat back down on the bed.
“Love, I know you meant well. I can only imagine how hard it must be for you to go through life, not being able to touch, to hold, to kiss. “ He spoke to the open air, hoping that she could still hear him. He could not tell if she was still near or not. She had not given him any indication. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You have no idea how much I want that, but not like that. “ He took a deep breath. “You must understand, with what we do… we come into contact all the time with people just like you and me. There are times that those meetings end in violence and death at my hands. At the hands of my friends and allies. What gives us the right to mete out death and destruction? Why is what we do Justice, while what they do murder? “
“The thing that makes us different is that we are fighting for the good of all, the ability for people to remain free, but to do that I must be sure. The only thing I have to guide me is my conviction. That what I do is the right thing. That what I do is for the betterment of everyone. If I were to cross that line, to blur what I know is right and wrong, then I would be nothing more than another murderer. No matter the intention, or the result, Gillian if a free person. We have no right to take that freedom away from her, even if we think it is something she may do. It must be her choice. I’m sorry. I know the want, and the loneliness. I have also kept myself from the same urges you feel, but if that is the sacrifice that is needed to be able to fight for the good of all, then I… Then we must endure it”.
Out by the campfire, Saxton stood alert for any signs of danger. He saw Gillian come into the fire, her arms covering her. He had seen her in many situations. He has seen her in fits of jealousy, rage. He has seen her manipulate people like a musician, playing their favorite instrument. He’s seem her in the thick of battle. This wasn’t even the first time he had seen her naked, but never had he seen the frightened look that she wore now. She looked like a rabbit caught in a trap, eyes darting round for some way out. Saxton looked around for some threat that could have caused this, but the camp was empty. She looked into his eyes, and saw that willingness to protect her. That desire to find the thing that caused her discomfort, and to put an arrow through it, and suddenly the strong walls that she had built around herself came crashing down. She fell into his arm, tears rolling down her eyes. Saxton has never been a man of words, but at that time, even if he had been a famous bard, or politician, he still would have been just as speechless. He did the only thing he could think of. He held her and moved closer to the fire. And sat watch.

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