Urban blinked hard. His head was throbbing, but it was an odd, painless throb. As if his mind itself was trying to force its way out of his skull.
He was in a hallway of the ship. How did he get here? What was he doing here? The last thing he remembered was leaving the bar to go back for his axe, and then seeing..
He looked around. No sight of her. She had cleverly gotten past him- somehow. But soon it came back- some of it. He remembered her yelling 'I'm engaged!' after slapping him. Was that why his head was throbbing? Had she somehow knocked him unconscious with a single slap?
Urban puckered his lips. They had a strange, lingering taste, almost like mint. But it soon hit him. He remembered catching the faintest whiff of mint off of her in the Control room.
Had she..kissed him?
The thought of a kiss brought up a fresh swathe of emotions. Confusion, anger, passion. But Urban felt one underlying feeling that struggled its way through the rest. Like a single, warm coal working to ignite its kindling.
He couldn't help it. Couldn't fight it. His thoughts drifted back to her. The last time he saw her- he would see her- in his lifetime. When they shared one last kiss before the star-crossed lovers were forced apart.
'She looked up at me, all starry-blue eyes and buckled knees. The torrent of rain was falling on us both. She had begun to shiver as the droplets of rain gradually mixed with her tears. She was drenched, and it was obvious they hadn't treated her well in the prison. Her mop of dirty and wet blonde hair, her torn and shredded burlap clothes, her mud-caked flesh..
..Yet she never looked more beautiful.
We simply held eachother, there, in the wood by the lumber mill. Quietly sobbing as we knew this was the last hour we would spend together. I did my best to cover her and hold her tight to warm her as we sat under that tree, but she still shivered. I realized then that it was not from the cold. She was afraid. She looked up at me again. I caught those blue-eyes before they flickered away. We held eachother's gaze. Her soft lips seemed to call to me, and I answered them with mine.
Eventually, we could cry no more. She simply lay there, her face buried in my chest, fistfuls of my shirt in either elegant hand. Her warm breath permeating through the cloth. She had almost drifted to sleep when they finally came to take her.
The guard decended on us without thought, without remorse. To them, she was a criminal tried for death and convicted, her fate sealed with the gavel of a judge.
They wrenched her off of me. Away from me. I could still feel her hands at my chest, her warm breath on my breast as she screamed my name as the guardsmen drug her through the mud back towards Haven. Soon her cries were drowned out only by her distant sobs and the patter of rain on the forest floor.
I wrestled away the guard that had held me back, but it was too late. A thick fog was setting in, and any attempts by me to dart through the woods would only end with me getting lost. Her cries could be heard no longer.
She was gone.'
Urban's memory hit him as hard as a rock on his already-throbbing temple. It was a long while since he had dwelled on that time- it had happened a short year ago. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget her. In truth, he didn't WANT to forget her.
Urban shoved away every emotion, paid attention to no thoughts but one: find Nora.
He had pledged to help Guy, pledged to stop the mutineers, and he had let one slip past him.
Urban began frantically maneuvering through the maze of halls on the ship, looking for that yellow dress. If nothing else, Urban hoped to once again find his way to his room to retrieve his ax, which is what he had originally set out to do.
But his first priority was Nora: not only to stop her, but to also question her on what she had done to him.