Chapter Two: Lucid Nightmares
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And to answer your question, I have written some fanfic's on this website back in 2007. I just decided to get back into it again as a hobby. I hope you enjoy! :)
The evening came quickly as I spent most of the day pacing through the courtyards trying my best to come up with a plan to go there. I was beginning to become quite disappointed, however, because I just couldn't convince myself that I would be alright if I went there alone.
Anything really can happen.. It will either be in favor for me, or completely go against me.
Mark eyed me closely and stuck by my side as the day passed. His thick dark hair pulled back from his face, I could see the frustration and urge to protest against me in his eyes.
"Milady.." He whispered, slowly walking up to my side. I shifted my gaze from a buttery yellow rose to his tall frame, searching the side of his face for what his thoughts were. His beautiful eyes glistened in the fading sun as the rays carressed his tanned face. "You do understand you can't go there. If I were to see you leave, it's my duty as captian of the Royal Guard to announce your missings".
I looked down to my feet which held my small white heels. A faint wind from the west swayed my silken white dress around my calves. He was right about that, I couldn't leave without being reported missing. I embraced the necklace which rested upon my collar bone. The emblem was of a small sparrow with a tulip in its beak. My mother had given it to me years ago as a pass down from one of my great grandmothers. It symbolized love and peace and that fear should never exist in the heart.
"I know that, Marcus." Hope was quickly fading in my heart as I closed my eyes. I felt a gentle, soft and light grasp on my shoulder. As I opened my eyes, I once more looked up to him to see his deep, yet bright green eyes peering into my own. I felt my cheeks flush a bit as I blinked.
"I know how you feel about this ongoing war, Pan. I feel the same way.. But right now, it wouldn't be such a great idea to wander into their lands, especially alone, as they are spying on us and most likely conducting a surprise attack. Think with your mind for now, Pan.. Not so much with your emotions or heart. That can be dangerous." He slid his palm down the middle of my back and looked forward.
I did as he and watched as the sun slowly descended between the green mountain range. The sky was of pruples, blues, pinks and oranges. It was most definitely a beautiful scenery. I know Mark is right, but when you want something so bad it's hard to be patient.
"I know, Mark.. But what if I could delay or even stop the war before any plans of attack were made? No one would die or be hurt and everyone, over time, would get along." I sighed after my words, knowing he wouldn't understand.
"Or if the worst happens? You arrive on their lands and they hold you captive, telling us that if we do not surrender that they would kill you? I can't risk your life, Pan. You're all I have left, as companion or friend." A wave of guilt washed over my face as I realized I was being a bit selfish.
Marcus' parents and sibling died many years ago in the war when bloodshed had covered the outter lands. I remember the scene all too clearly, how he lay over his father on the battlefield, crying and begging for his awakening. He was only 8 at the time, he didn't need to see that.
"I don't know what to do anymore." By this time, the sky was spotted with stars and of a deep maroon color.
"I suggest you get some rest. Your mother has been speaking with the Royal Guard most of the day, so I'm sure she will want to talk to you tomorrow morning." Marcus' strong hand gripped my shoulder slightly before releasing it.
I nodded and we left the courtyard back into the castle. Marcus followed me up the stairs and to my bedroom door. I was a bit happy he was with me today.
"Thank you for staying nearby today. I have quite a bit to think over." I ran my finger through my long brunette hair and smiled up to him.
"Anything for you, princess." His grin was pleasing as I bid him goodnight.
I closed my bedroom door and began to dress into my sleepware as my mind was once again racing with just about everything there is to think about.
As I turned out the light and crawled under the sheets, I stared at the dark ceiling and let out a deep sigh. I knew tonight would once again be restless. Falling asleep and constantly waking of nightmares. I frowned and closed my eyes, begging a God, any God, to help me end this reality of a nightmare as soon as possible.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and narrowly avoided retching from the sharp, well known stentch that surrounded me. The smell was of hot blood spattered on the stones that seemed ready to dissolve the skin off my hands if I touched it. The smell of burned hair and skin of the dead smoldered in the fire of a dropped lantern. Only the fall of rain all the night before had kept that fire from spreading through the clearing to the woods.
From the forest to my left, I heard the desperate, strangled cry of a man in pain. I started to move toward the sound, but when I took a step through the trees in his direction, I came upon a sight that made my knees buckle, my breath freezing as I fell to the familiar body.
Ebony hair, so like my own, was swept across the boy's eyes, closed forever now but so clear in my mind. His skin was gray in the morning light, covered with a light spray of dew. My younger brother, my only brother, was dead.
Like our sister and our father years ago, like our aunts and uncles and too many friends, Caleb was forever grounded. I stared at his still form, willing him to take a breath and open eyes whose color would mirror my own. I willed myself to wake up from this nightmare.
I could not be the last. The last child of Videl, who was all the family I had left now. I wanted to scream and weep, but among my kind, tears were considered a disgrace to the dead and shame among the living. I could not cry for my brother, though I wanted to.
I pushed the sounds away, forcing my lips not to tremble. Only one heavy breath escaped me, wanting to be a sigh. I lifted my dry eyes to the guards who stood about me protectively in the woods.
"Take him home," I ordered, my voice wavering a bit despite my resolve.
"Pan, you should come home too."
I turned to Marcus, the captian of the most elite guard in our kingdoms army, and took in the worried expression in his soft green eyes. The man had been my friend for years before he had been my guard, and I began to nod assent to his words.
Another cry from the woods made me freeze. I started toward it, but Marcus caught my arm just above the elbow. "Not that one, milady."
Normally I would have trusted his judgment without question, but not here on the battlefield. I had been walking these bloody fields whenever I could ever since I was twelve; I could not avert my eyes when we were in the middle of this chaos and someone was pleading, with what was probably his last breath, for help. "And why not, Marcus?"
The captian knew he was in trouble the instant I addressed him, but he kept on my heels as I stepped around the slain bodies and closer to the voice.
"Pan.." I could sense how serious he was in his voice. "That's Gregory. You don't want his blood on your hands."
For a moment, the name meant nothing to me. With his hair streaked with blood and his expression a mask of pain, Gregory could have been anyone's brother, husband or son. I did not have the energy to rage. Every emotion I had was cloaked in a shield of reserve I had learned since I was little.
Evidently the outlaw prince recognized me as well, for his pleas caught in his throat and his eyes closed.
I stepped toward him and heard a flutter of movement as my guards moved closer, ready to intervene if the fallen man was a threat. For a moment I thought of taking my knife and putting it in his heart or slitting his throat myself and ending the life this creature still held while my brother lay dead.
Despite my guards' protest, I went again to my knees, this time beside the enemy. I looked at that pale face and tried to summon the fury I needed.
His eyes fluttered open and met mine. A muddy shade of silver, Gregory's eyes were filled with pain, sorrow and fear. The fear struck me the most. This boy looked a couple of years younger than I was, too young to deserve this horror, too young to die.
Bile rose in my throat. I loved my brother, but I could not murder his killer. I could not look into the eyes of a boy terrified of death and shaking from pain and feel hatred. This was a life; outlaw, yes, but still a life; who was I to steal it?
Only as I recoiled did I see the wound on his stomach, where a knife had dragged itself raggedly across the soft flesh , one of the most painful of mortal blows. The attacker must have been killed before he could finish the deed.
Perhaps my brother had held the knife. Had he lain dying alone like this afterward?
I felt a sob choke my throat and couldn't stop it. Gregory was the enemy, but here on the battlefield he was just another brother to another sister, fallen on the field. I could not cry for my own brother; he would not want me to. But I found myself crying for this hated stranger and the endless slaughter that I had almost contributed to.
I spun on Mark. "This is why this stupid war goes on. Because even when he's dying, you can only feel hate," I spat, too quietly for the outlaw prince to hear me.
"If I was in this man's place, I would pray for someone to kneel by my side," I continued. "And I wouldn't care if that person was Trunks himself."
Mark knelt awkwardly beside me. For a moment, his hand touched my hand, unexpectedly. His gaze met mine, and I heard him sigh quietly with understanding.
I turned back to the outlaw. "I'm here; don't fret," I said as I smoothed pale silver hair from Gregory's face.
His eyes filled with tears and he muttered something that sounded like "Thank you." Then he looked straight up at me and said, "End it. Please."
These words made me wince. I had been thinking the same thing just moments before, but even though I knew he was asking me to stop the pain, I did not want mine to be the hand that ended another's life.
"Pan?" Mark asked worriedly when a tear fell from my eyes onto Gregory's hand.
I shook my head and wrapped my hand around Gregory's cool one. The muscles tightened, and then he was gripping my hand like it was his last anchor to this planet.
When I drew my knife from my waist, Mark caught my wrist and shook his head.
Quietly, so Gregory could not hear, I argued, "It could take him hours to die like this."
"Let the hours pass," Mark answered, though I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Outlaws believe in mercy killing, but not when it's the other side who does it. Not when it's the heir to our kingdom who ends the life of one of their two surviving princes."
We sat in the field most of the day, until Gregory's grip on my hand loosened and his ragged breathing froze.
Now the only male child left to inherit the outlaw throne was Trunks, a creature whose name was rarely mentioned in our society, and if he died...hopefully the murderous royal house of the outlaw would die with him. Yet now that Gregory, the youngest and last brother of our greatest enemy, was dead in front of me, I could not be grateful for the loss. My throat was tight with too many tears unshed, screams unuttered and prayers whose words I could never seem to find...
"Pan, are you all right?"
I opened my eyes to find Mark searching the room for whatever had frightened me. His thick, dark hair had been hastily pulled back from his face as if he had been roused from sleep. He was not supposed to be on duty until this afternoon, but I was grateful he had been the one to hear me shout.
"Yes," I said, but the trembling in my voice belied my answer.
"Dream?" he asked. Mark was the only one to whom I confided my nightmares.
I nodded, sitting up. Morning was here, and if Mark was, too, then there was something important to be done.
Mark cleared his throat. "Your mother wants you to meet her downstairs, as soon as you are ready."
He left me to change, which I did quickly. My mother did not summon me for meaningless trifles.
I stepped outside my room to find the Castle swarming with Royal soldiers. In addition to Marcus, there were five other guards next to my door alone. Out on the field, I understood this kind of caution. Inside the castle walls, it was unheard of.
"My mother isn't hurt?" I asked with alarm, my mind latching on to the worst possible reason for this concern.
"She's safe," Mark answered, though he didn't sound as if he was completely certain. "The rest of the guard is with her."
Of course. "Then why the sudden jump in security?" And, before he could answer, "And who in the world is guarding the outside?"
"There are about two dozen soldiers ringing the courtyard, and another few dozen in the surrounding land," one of the the other guards assured me.
"They're good fighters. As for your other question," Mark answered, "we seem to have a visitor, which is why your mother requested your presence in the first place."
What kind of visitor required so many members of the royal guard to be in the loftiest halls of the castle? No one so much as got inside unnoticed. To get all the way to my room would be impossible.
"Who is this visitor?" I inquired softly. "Trunks himself?"
Mark did not joke back with me.
My mother was standing with her back to us as we enetered the enclosed courtyard. The visitor was seated cross legged on the ground nearby, with her eyes closed as if she was taking a nap. Four of our guards surrounded her, showing just how afraid we were to have her near our queen.
Even from across the courtyard I could recognized the silver hair and fair skin. As I went closer I saw her silky black dress with the white emblem sewn onto the low neckline between her breasts. On her left hand she wore an onyx signet ring.
Either she heard our approach, or she sensed us some other way, for the visitor opened her eyes just then. Suddenly my cool, ebony gaze was me directly by her icy peer, the color resembled polished topaz's. I looked away quickly, a shudder twisting its way up my spine.
"She's here in peace," my mother assured me immediately, but I could hear the "or so she said" in her voice even though she didn't speak it aloud. "Bulla, may I introduce my heir and daughter, Pan? Pan, this is Bulla, younger sister of Trunks."
My skin chilled just hearing the name, but I answered the introduction politely. What is this creature doing here?
Bulla spoke first, for which I was grateful. If I had opened my mouth, I probably could have caused a war with what I had said if it had not been too late already.
"We want peace," Bulla said softly, not rising. In case she tried to stand, the guards were prepared to kill her instantly. "We're tired of the fighting, and the killing."
A/N: So the sister of Prince Trunks has shown up to Pan's kingdom seeking peace. However, is Bulla actually being honest? Or is this a trap to lower the guard of Pan's people and territory, so the outlaws can seek their attack?