In My Dreams
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own anything except the plot. P.S: This happens. Umm. After the walk with Tamara around the gardens and after she finds out during the Tamara's angry speech that Vidanric has not blabbed their humiliating encounters to the whole world as she expected. [Hey, he's a gentleman! Waddya expect!]
Chpt 1) - -- "You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting." -- [Mel POV]
Lying half awake, ensconced in warm scented blankets, I listened to the steady yet lulling patter of the raindrops on the sill. There was so much going through my mind though; it was in turmoil even as my eyes followed the rising sun's rays through the heavy clouds - grey on the bottom, and I just could not fall into the comfort of dreamland.
"Just why had Shevraeth omitted accounts of our disastrous encounters?" This question swirled, sank, and invariably rose again in my mind. I refused to accept the only logical answer those restless dreams that night before had provided me with. Protection.
"Ungh!" I groaned in frustration, fully roused from the half dream-like state I had been previously suspended in. Hair awry, clothes rumpled, and feet gloriously bare - silk slippers were losing their appeal, I stepped into the exterior of my rooms, batting the tapestry impatiently aside.
Mora greeted me with a mask hastily arranged into deference, indicating the steaming listerblossom tea waiting on the table. I drank it with gratitude warming my heart, goodness knows how many times Mora had to summon fresh tea for me to wake up to this steaming delight.
I sipped at the soothing liquid, troubled by the thoughts still eddying through my mind. Quickly however, I decided to banish it as the last of the foreboding clouds drifted away, revealing the sprawling rain washed greens beckoning to me under the gentle graze of sunlight. The previous night's tossing and turning was thrown to the remotest corner of my mind as my spirits rose, causing a smile to start playing around my lips.
Hah, take that Shevraeth! You don't trouble me for long! I sardonically granted myself the satisfaction of taking a dig at that poker-faced Marquis privately. Mora's deft fingers worked her way through my knotted hair, a grim expression set on her face as if attacking the knots as an enemy.
Thoughts of past experiences rose again, I had to suppress a groan that threatened to spoil the tranquil mood in the room once it escaped. Truly, I could say, that Shevraeth was still an enigma. "A mystery," I thought, "that I would never be able to solve."
And whose fault is it? A silent inner voice questioned. An irate Countess who had till now, effectively cut off any means of communication save the petty arguments she rose to, with as much belligerence as a drunk man would have. I winced at my own words.
Then, distracted by the little stream-fed pool, which was in plain view from the windows, now thrown open to let the streaming sunlight in, I decided that riding would be the best option to pass time, and forget guilt. All the while, I eyed the gentle calm flow of the stream narrowly as if daring it to contradict the state of mind I was in.
"Mora," I said out loud, "let my hair down for today."
Her fingers stopped the smoothing, stroking motions, instead reaching for a delicate shell comb upon hearing my words. Moments later, her skill was evident from the two expert thin braids running throughout the length of my hair from my temples, joining midway and then flowing like a river down. I eased into the traveling gown in now familiar actions, yanked on matching slippers, impatiently longing to be out where birds chirped, water streamed, and old dreams forgotten.
Slipping through corridors and passageways quietly, I felt buoyant from the joy coursing through my heart. The old, unhappy experiences that ran through my mind uncontrollably, keeping me preoccupied and restless that whole night were forgotten in a thrice. I could almost believe that I was back in the mountain peaks in Tlanth, soon, I would hear the forlorn singing of harps of the Hill Folk, the clear reed pipes and.
I shook my head trying to clear my homesick mind. "Enough is enough Mel, look forward and forget the past already." Along with that Marquis of Shevraeth as well. My wandering footsteps brought me to the stable, where stable hands came to my assistance immediately. A sturdy raven-black mare was led out; I returned the stable hands' respectful gaze with one of appreciation and murmured my thanks. With a lithe leap, I mounted the mare and off I was, free as the wind sailing over the seas.
Time flew by, swift as angels with bright wings, unnoticed. The sunlight peeked through spaces in between the criss-crossing of leaves; birds were tweeting cheerily on their branches. "Even the cats were mewing in chorus to the chirrups," I thought contentedly, reveling in the peace and quiet of the man-made forest.
"Nothing like aimless riding to relieve homesickness and unpleasant memories." Dark thoughts about eventful and unsettling incidents that happened a year before replaced the contentment, but these thoughts quickly went out of my mind when I came to a realization. Cats? Mewing? In this forest? Curiosity definitely piqued, I kneed my mare to the opposite direction, following the pitiful sounds.
It took a few confusing moments but I finally figured that the cats were atop the trees I was riding under. Reasoning thus, I located the spot where the mews sounded with clarity, and dismounted with ease. Without further hesitation, I started up the tree, hitching up expensive skirts and ditching my slippers.
Feeling as though I had really been transported back to the peaks behind our (me and Bran's) castle in Tlanth, I climbed the tree with as much grace as my cumbersome skirt would allow. The bark of the tree was cool and slippery, familiar to the touch in fact, and the mossy green branches reminded me how trees across the kingdom were all the same. Not that we can say that about the people though.
Straightening out whilst precariously perched on a thick branch, I was absurdly grateful for my scrawny build, as well as my almost non-existent height, for it enable me to balance where no one else could have. Three kittens, each of them a different colour, fixed their clear blue slits of eyes on me, bodies quivering with fright obviously having gotten themselves caught in territory too high for comfort yet with no way out.
Little peals of laughter rising in my throat, I reached for them intending to arrange their escape, wobbling slightly on my feet. One by one, they skittered off the tree bark after some coaxing on my part. Their rain- touched fur was slicked wet and felt cold to the touch.
Unbidden, images of myself hiding under ferny plants to take cover from the rain, climbing up trees to escape the grasps of aggressive pursuers took over my mind. Tensing as these ill memories gripped me, my task at hand was forgotten.
The last kitten, cream colored with a little black spot on her forehead, struggled in my tight hands, trying to join her siblings, which were roaming safely on well-trodden trails. My reverie was broken not by the kitten's valiant attempts to wriggle out of my hands, but by a startled questioning exclamation that sounded forebodingly familiar to my ears.
I stood up too fast, forgetting my whereabouts, and lost my footing, only managing a panicked gasp before gravity pulled me down to hard earth. The journey was broken however, by intermittent leafy branches cracking after it had borne my weight, but still I landed. On ground too hard for my liking.
"Oomph!" Pain seared through my body, for a moment the earth seemed to heave beneath my feet - or my back. Luckiest survivor: The cream kitten that rejoined its companions immediately, after bounding from my slackened grip. It was unscathed, I saw with relief. The fact somehow made my pain more bearable as I struggled, against my mind that wanted to stay lying on the ground, to sit up.
Someone bent over me, blocking the sunlight that dazed my eyes. I got a swift impression of light yellow hair and gray eyes still holding that accustomed assessing glance. A dismal moan again struggled to escape the depths of my throat. The Marquis of Shevraeth.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own anything except the plot. P.S: This happens. Umm. After the walk with Tamara around the gardens and after she finds out during the Tamara's angry speech that Vidanric has not blabbed their humiliating encounters to the whole world as she expected. [Hey, he's a gentleman! Waddya expect!]
Chpt 1) - -- "You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you. That's where I'll be waiting." -- [Mel POV]
Lying half awake, ensconced in warm scented blankets, I listened to the steady yet lulling patter of the raindrops on the sill. There was so much going through my mind though; it was in turmoil even as my eyes followed the rising sun's rays through the heavy clouds - grey on the bottom, and I just could not fall into the comfort of dreamland.
"Just why had Shevraeth omitted accounts of our disastrous encounters?" This question swirled, sank, and invariably rose again in my mind. I refused to accept the only logical answer those restless dreams that night before had provided me with. Protection.
"Ungh!" I groaned in frustration, fully roused from the half dream-like state I had been previously suspended in. Hair awry, clothes rumpled, and feet gloriously bare - silk slippers were losing their appeal, I stepped into the exterior of my rooms, batting the tapestry impatiently aside.
Mora greeted me with a mask hastily arranged into deference, indicating the steaming listerblossom tea waiting on the table. I drank it with gratitude warming my heart, goodness knows how many times Mora had to summon fresh tea for me to wake up to this steaming delight.
I sipped at the soothing liquid, troubled by the thoughts still eddying through my mind. Quickly however, I decided to banish it as the last of the foreboding clouds drifted away, revealing the sprawling rain washed greens beckoning to me under the gentle graze of sunlight. The previous night's tossing and turning was thrown to the remotest corner of my mind as my spirits rose, causing a smile to start playing around my lips.
Hah, take that Shevraeth! You don't trouble me for long! I sardonically granted myself the satisfaction of taking a dig at that poker-faced Marquis privately. Mora's deft fingers worked her way through my knotted hair, a grim expression set on her face as if attacking the knots as an enemy.
Thoughts of past experiences rose again, I had to suppress a groan that threatened to spoil the tranquil mood in the room once it escaped. Truly, I could say, that Shevraeth was still an enigma. "A mystery," I thought, "that I would never be able to solve."
And whose fault is it? A silent inner voice questioned. An irate Countess who had till now, effectively cut off any means of communication save the petty arguments she rose to, with as much belligerence as a drunk man would have. I winced at my own words.
Then, distracted by the little stream-fed pool, which was in plain view from the windows, now thrown open to let the streaming sunlight in, I decided that riding would be the best option to pass time, and forget guilt. All the while, I eyed the gentle calm flow of the stream narrowly as if daring it to contradict the state of mind I was in.
"Mora," I said out loud, "let my hair down for today."
Her fingers stopped the smoothing, stroking motions, instead reaching for a delicate shell comb upon hearing my words. Moments later, her skill was evident from the two expert thin braids running throughout the length of my hair from my temples, joining midway and then flowing like a river down. I eased into the traveling gown in now familiar actions, yanked on matching slippers, impatiently longing to be out where birds chirped, water streamed, and old dreams forgotten.
Slipping through corridors and passageways quietly, I felt buoyant from the joy coursing through my heart. The old, unhappy experiences that ran through my mind uncontrollably, keeping me preoccupied and restless that whole night were forgotten in a thrice. I could almost believe that I was back in the mountain peaks in Tlanth, soon, I would hear the forlorn singing of harps of the Hill Folk, the clear reed pipes and.
I shook my head trying to clear my homesick mind. "Enough is enough Mel, look forward and forget the past already." Along with that Marquis of Shevraeth as well. My wandering footsteps brought me to the stable, where stable hands came to my assistance immediately. A sturdy raven-black mare was led out; I returned the stable hands' respectful gaze with one of appreciation and murmured my thanks. With a lithe leap, I mounted the mare and off I was, free as the wind sailing over the seas.
Time flew by, swift as angels with bright wings, unnoticed. The sunlight peeked through spaces in between the criss-crossing of leaves; birds were tweeting cheerily on their branches. "Even the cats were mewing in chorus to the chirrups," I thought contentedly, reveling in the peace and quiet of the man-made forest.
"Nothing like aimless riding to relieve homesickness and unpleasant memories." Dark thoughts about eventful and unsettling incidents that happened a year before replaced the contentment, but these thoughts quickly went out of my mind when I came to a realization. Cats? Mewing? In this forest? Curiosity definitely piqued, I kneed my mare to the opposite direction, following the pitiful sounds.
It took a few confusing moments but I finally figured that the cats were atop the trees I was riding under. Reasoning thus, I located the spot where the mews sounded with clarity, and dismounted with ease. Without further hesitation, I started up the tree, hitching up expensive skirts and ditching my slippers.
Feeling as though I had really been transported back to the peaks behind our (me and Bran's) castle in Tlanth, I climbed the tree with as much grace as my cumbersome skirt would allow. The bark of the tree was cool and slippery, familiar to the touch in fact, and the mossy green branches reminded me how trees across the kingdom were all the same. Not that we can say that about the people though.
Straightening out whilst precariously perched on a thick branch, I was absurdly grateful for my scrawny build, as well as my almost non-existent height, for it enable me to balance where no one else could have. Three kittens, each of them a different colour, fixed their clear blue slits of eyes on me, bodies quivering with fright obviously having gotten themselves caught in territory too high for comfort yet with no way out.
Little peals of laughter rising in my throat, I reached for them intending to arrange their escape, wobbling slightly on my feet. One by one, they skittered off the tree bark after some coaxing on my part. Their rain- touched fur was slicked wet and felt cold to the touch.
Unbidden, images of myself hiding under ferny plants to take cover from the rain, climbing up trees to escape the grasps of aggressive pursuers took over my mind. Tensing as these ill memories gripped me, my task at hand was forgotten.
The last kitten, cream colored with a little black spot on her forehead, struggled in my tight hands, trying to join her siblings, which were roaming safely on well-trodden trails. My reverie was broken not by the kitten's valiant attempts to wriggle out of my hands, but by a startled questioning exclamation that sounded forebodingly familiar to my ears.
I stood up too fast, forgetting my whereabouts, and lost my footing, only managing a panicked gasp before gravity pulled me down to hard earth. The journey was broken however, by intermittent leafy branches cracking after it had borne my weight, but still I landed. On ground too hard for my liking.
"Oomph!" Pain seared through my body, for a moment the earth seemed to heave beneath my feet - or my back. Luckiest survivor: The cream kitten that rejoined its companions immediately, after bounding from my slackened grip. It was unscathed, I saw with relief. The fact somehow made my pain more bearable as I struggled, against my mind that wanted to stay lying on the ground, to sit up.
Someone bent over me, blocking the sunlight that dazed my eyes. I got a swift impression of light yellow hair and gray eyes still holding that accustomed assessing glance. A dismal moan again struggled to escape the depths of my throat. The Marquis of Shevraeth.