Archived:The Modern Janissaries/Elle and Erraline

### Elle and Erraline

She stared at the ceiling, nibbling on her lip, she still felt the blood on her hands and rubbed the back of her hand with the palm of her other hand. "Hey...are you awake?" She whispered, not looking over. She barely fit into the small bed and the cotton blanket provided no warmth. The room gave off no other furniture except a small chest at the end of each bed. They were both hard metal with thin mattresses. They were deep underground and the lack of water made her skin itch.

She blinked, "sorry," she muttered, "you can go back to sleep...it's okay." Lucky girl. Elle wasn't able to get a wink. "At least it wasn't my nightmares." She probably shouldn't have mentioned it but her dreams, that made her wake up screaming, had been getting worse the past few nights.

She finally looked over, "sometimes, sometimes not. I don't really try to. Usually just memories. They're no big deal. I'm use to them."

She looked at her, with wide eyes, "really?" She didn't expect that. "How bad?"

"I was shot before," she mused before asking, "what happened...?"

"Were you close with them?" She asked quietly. She wasn't going to say she was sorry for her loss. It wasn't appropriate.

"Were you...young?" She asked. "When they were killed."

She nodded, "if it's anything...I don't remember either of my parents as well. So I get it."

"I've never had friends before you guys," she whispered, "I don't think I'm that sociable or friendly, though. I thought Japan was bustling with people, though."

"Oh, I see," she murmumured, "I suppose it helped with being a duchess and all. Derren....what's your last name?"

"I think I met him, ages ago. He doesn't really look like you."

"Really?" She asked, "sorry for killing the streak."

"Do you want to hear my sob story?" She asked, "you don't have to. Just...I know every time I open up I get a bit...uncomfortable."

She smiled, "seems we really do have stuff in common," she said. She took a moment of silence, gathering her thoughts. "My mother sold me off. For three bags of heroin. When I was three. We were living on the streets and...she, according to the guy who took me in, never really liked me. So it didn't really bother her to...just sell me off for the stuff she loves. I hear that she use to be a prostitute and thats how I was conceived. Don't even have a name for my father. One thing we don't have in common, I wasn't born out of love."

"I didn't find out until I was thirteen," she replied with a shrug, "I was loved by Jordyn, though, the guy who brought me in. He treated himself like he was my father. I grew up surrounded by soft toys and books."

"Erraline, Jordyn was the one who sold her the heroin, do you really think my life would a happy one with a drug lord as a father?" She asked, slightly laughing, "I don't see him anymore you know? He's in jail. Attempted murder." And it was out. She'd never said the words out loud before. Not to anyone, not even Tom.

"It's fine," she said, "I still love him. Can I ask you somethin?"

"Is being a duchess that good? Like, you might not have anything to compare it too but...I always thought it provided security, you know?"

"Those theories thrive off the attitude of the society. It's the fear and the wariness of a war erupting that feeds that one," she said, theorising herself.

She grinned, "it's why you probably did fall in love with them. The prohibited always look so tempting. Not even a king could fight it off."

"I don't think either Juliet or Romeo wanted to die either until the other died. I think it's a bad comparison. They were like 13."

"What about..." she trailed off, thinking of iconic love duos. "Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy."

She giggled, "maybe I should have him then. You can take Julian," she joked.

"Sorry," she breathed out, "I get too ahead of myself sometimes. If you weren't a duchess...what would you do? When you got older."

"As what?" She asked. She couldn't help it, people's plans for the future always fascinated her.

"Naturally," she replied, "so...being a duchess. That's not going to last?"

She grunted at this, "fair enough," she replied.

"Go for it."

She closed her mouth. She was silent for a while. "What makes you think that?"

"I feel kind of wrong to do that, though, use him for the title. It's not like I'd really gain anything." She sighed. Rather marry him out of love than for money. "I can earn that money myself."

"It's a...it's a bit early to be talking about marriage, don't you think?" She asked, laughing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. They might die down there and they were talking about marriage.

"I don't like thinking about the future, it makes me get my hopes up, I'd rather see how it plays out without...without really making plans."

"Surprisingly enough, yeah," she replied. "Are you?"

"Everything starts when you turn eighteen, I think it's ridiculous."

"It comes whether we want it or not. I can't really notice it, I already feel like I'm there, you know?"

"Hard not to be," she murmured.

"Should go back to sleep, at least one of us will have energy," she breathed out.