Cut me

Part of the heartbreaking Goodbye in Dragonfly in Amber– Other Parts from this Passage cant be found here: Cease to existLonger than that and Once more

The who­le Sce­ne:
I had thought I could not sleep, but the pull of exhaus­ti­on was too much, and I slip­ped bene­ath the sur­face with scar­ce­ly a ripp­le. Near dawn I woke, Jamie’s arms still around me, and lay watching the imper­cep­ti­ble bloom of night into day, futile­ly wil­ling back the fri­end­ly shel­ter of the dark.I rol­led to the side and lifted mys­elf to watch him, to see the light touch the bold shape of his face, inno­cent in sleep, to see the daw­ning sun touch his hair with fla­me — for the last time.A wave of anguish bro­ke through me, so acu­te that I must have made some sound, for he ope­ned his eyes. He smi­led when he saw me, and his eyes sear­ched my face. I knew that he was memo­ri­zing my fea­tures, as I was his.“Jamie,” I said. My voice was hoar­se with sleep and swal­lo­wed tears. “Jamie. I want you to mark me.”“What?” he said, startled.The tiny sgi­an dhu he car­ri­ed in his stocking was lying wit­hin reach, its hand­le of car­ved stag­horn dark against the piled clot­hing. I reached for it and han­ded it to him.“Cut me,” I said urgent­ly. “Deep enough to lea­ve a scar. I want to take away your touch with me, to have some­thing of you that will stay with me always. I don’t care if it hurts; not­hing could hurt more than lea­ving you. At least when I touch it, whe­re­ver I am, I can feel your touch on me.”His hand was over mine whe­re it rested on the knife’s hilt. After a moment, he squee­zed it and nod­ded. He hesi­ta­ted for a moment, the razor-sharp bla­de in his hand, and I offe­red him my right hand. It was warm bene­ath our coverings, but his bre­ath came in wisps, visi­ble in the cold air of the room.He tur­ned my palm upward, exami­ning it care­ful­ly, then rai­sed it to his lips. A soft kiss in the well of the palm, then he sei­zed the base of my thumb in a hard, suck­ing bite. Let­ting go, he swift­ly cut into the num­bed flesh. I felt no more than a mild bur­ning sen­sa­ti­on, but the blood wel­led at once. He brought the hand quick­ly to his mouth again, hol­ding it the­re until the flow of blood slo­wed. He bound the wound, now stin­ging, care­ful­ly in a hand­ker­chief, but not befo­re I saw that the cut was in the shape of a small, slight­ly croo­ked let­ter “J.”I loo­ked up to see that he was hol­ding out the tiny kni­fe to me. I took it, and some­what hesi­t­ant­ly, took the hand he offe­red me.He clo­sed his eyes brief­ly, and set his lips, but a small grunt of pain escaped him as I pres­sed the tip of the kni­fe into the fle­shy pad at the base of his thumb. The Mount of Venus, a palm-reader had told me; indi­ca­tor of pas­si­on and love​.It was only as I com­ple­ted the small semicir­cu­lar cut that I rea­li­zed he had given me his left hand.“I should have taken the other,” I said. “Your sword hilt will press on it.” He smi­led faintly.“I could ask no more than to feel your touch on me in my last fight — whe­re­ver it comes.”Unwrapping the blood-spot­ted hand­ker­chief, I pres­sed my woun­ded hand tight­ly against his, fin­gers grip­ped toge­ther. The blood was warm and slick, not yet sti­cky bet­ween our hands.“Blood of my Blood…” I whis­pe­red.


…and Bone of my Bone,” he ans­we­red soft­ly. Neit­her of us could finish the vow, “so long as we both shall live,” but the uns­po­ken wor­ds hung aching bet­ween us. Final­ly he smi­led crookedly.“Longer than that,” he said firm­ly, and pul­led me to him once more.

All rights for the Pic­ture go to the right­ful owner Starz
Quote and Excerpt by Diana Gabal­don from “Dra­gon­fly in Amber“
I own not­hing but the editing

Heike Ginger Ba Written by:

|Human|Woman|Mother|Wife|Friend| Photographer| Blogger| |TV-Junkie|Photoshop-Beginner|Art-Lover|Cologne-based|Outlander-addict |Sherlockian |TWD-devoted

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