《NOTE: No femmeslash.》
Cloven Dream
Two – To Take To Without Sparing Any Choice
It is my fifteenth birthday, 30 January 1515. It is an auspicious date, for 1515 comes in a pattern, and January is the sacred first month of the year. The second-to-last day of January is certainly special, teetering on the edge.
There is no great celebration this year as it used to be any other year. Instead it was a morning just like any other. The icy winter sunshine seemed to quiver as it fell on a flat, bare patch on my floor. The branches outside were laden with snow, and a thick carpet of this precipitation covered the ground in a blanket. I was expecting a surprise, but there wasn't any. I sat in bed, contemplating this, when a maid came and declared that I was summoned to my father's room.
It seemed like forever.
I knocked on his door. Father never accepts a straight out entry, as he is a lord. I am his daughter, but I am still a rank lower than him.
His servant escorted us inside.
I had only been in Father's room twice. Once was when I was small and ventured in there, the other was the only other time I'd been summoned by him. He tries to avoid me as much as possible. It's your aquamarine-teal eyes, Mistress Luka, the midwife had said. She takes care of me now, because Father has made sure with himself that he would not breed with another woman as long as he lived, and the midwife was too valuable to give up. It's your aquamarine-teal eyes that he so much remembers of your mother. Her betrayal was devastating to him. He only loves you, but it hurts inside, Mistress Luka.
Now as I entered, I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. I was a woman now. I was a Lady, not just a Mistress anymore.
Father's room was huge, and consisted of two sections. The one in the back was where he slept, a great bedroom full of finery and silks. His servants kept it tidy every day. The one in the front was where he worked, spoke with other lords, and occasionally dined when he was too busy to go anywhere otherwise. But that room was empty, and the servant led me through to Father's bedroom. Father was sitting on a plush velvet chair, his feet leaning on a smaller stool, but none less comfortable than the chair. Some polished black boots, curling up at the toes, sat beside his bed, with one servant busying himself with polishing them into even shinier leather. Father's feet were bare and a female servant leaned over him, painting his toenails with the beautiful, perfumed polish from crushed petals of flowers. His hands, I noticed, were already painted, and he was resting them as if to make them dry. He was handsome—lean and tall, his chiseled face framed with soft pink locks like mine. But it was a draining, dry sort of handsome, one that made me instantly feel that he was dangerous.
"Hello, Luka," Father said, smiling coldly.
I forced myself to curtsy. "May the Heavens be with you, my Lord." I may address him as "Father" in my mind, but I cannot say "Father" unless I want my back to be whipped raw, crisscrossed with scars that bite deep into my skin.
A servant handed Father a rose. He idly sniffed it before throwing it away, the rose petals scattering across the floor. His hard green eyes, flecked with gold, studied my face. I could not tear my eyes away. Finally, Father beckoned to me, his bitter, brittle jewels of eyes never leaving my own. "Come here, Luka."
I was right in front of him, arm's distance away, and he could reach out and slap me at any time. "Today is the thirtieth of January, I may recall," he said in an easy tone.
"Yes, my Lord."
"You are fifteen, no?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Fifteen makes a girl a woman." He smiled, but it wasn't genuine. It wasn't as if he was pulling at his face's muscles, but the smile was dangerous, warned of something undesirable coming. "… And it is a tradition in the Megurine family for a girl of fifteen to travel through the forest with servants and make peace with other lands, perhaps gain them as our own."
And the rock is brought crashing down.
l~u~k~a
I have five maids, two coachmen, eight magnificent horses, two carriages and one small coach, and nine other accompaniers traveling with me.
l~u~k~a
I was safely encased in the coach, a maid fussing over me, dusting my cheeks with powder. Another maid took a pencil made of lead and drew a beautiful thick black line on the outer edge of my eyes, making them more dramatic: a river of black on creamy white skin. A third maid brushed exotic colors of blues and greens on my eyelids, and her quick, flawless fingers left less than a tangle in my hair. My lips were rosebud pink, soft and inviting, but the maid who brought such colors of the heavens on my eyes was not satisfied. Her long purple hair whipping behind her, she thrust a hand in her apron pocket and brought out a perfume made of crushed rose petals, the same color as the one to paint my father's toenails, except perfumes center more on smell. She sprayed it over me, dousing me in a shower of fresh rose, and set to work with dramatising my lips. The rouge tickled as it was applied, but it was only a feathery feeling.
"Lady Luka," the third maid said after she finished, her eyes downcast. Nobody, nobody except Father, his greatest trustees, and the midwife ever looked into my eyes, much less now as I was a woman and able to rule. The third maid took out a white dress made of the finest fibers, decorated most lavish- and extravagantly: every ray of sunlight split, bent, and refracted upon the jewels at every point of view; the lace that rimmed the collar, the sleeves, the waist, and the dress's edge was frothy and light. She laid it out before me. "I would have to… strip you and change you."
"Surely you could do it somewhere else?" I demanded, and none too nicely either.
"Lady Luka… the Lord…" The third maid moistened her lips. "The Lord… Lord Luki, he said to me to change you in the carriage as soon as you're in and the makeup applied."
"Why so soon?" I was in a bad mood already and in no position to handle a maid pleasantly.
"I… don't know," the third maid stammered. The first and second maids, as they were finished, were trying to slip away, to their small coach. They are not important; they may do as they wish. I can tell this maid wanted to follow them very badly.
"Tell me your name," I commanded.
"Yuzuki Yukari, my Lady."
"Change me."
l~u~k~a
I do not understand why they are stretching my beauty to the maximum limit so soon. It would take at least a week to get to the next land, surely, with this great, thick forest between us. However, the coachman—the one that drives my carriage and has dark topaz eyes, the one whose hands were scarred from so many exertions with the tough rawhide reins, the one who recently just broke his finger—assured me that Father had taken the greatest measures so we would get to the next land by the third day's sundown. The horses are of very high quality and friendly; they are not Father's greatest, biggest, or fastest steeds, but they are nimble and able to maneuver through any kind of land. "… Besides, if we should meet a passerby in the forest while we are driving through, should he not stop and marvel at the daughter of Lord Luki?"
I have the first carriage. By my orders, Yuzuki Yukari is now with me in the first carriage, although she does not get half of the many privileges I do. The coachman sits in front, driving the first two horses. Two men, armed with swords, bows, and arrows ride on two other horses ahead of my carriage, scouting but not so far as for the coachman to lose sight of them. Close behind is the second carriage and two more horses, which carries five important men to negotiate lest my beauty and supposed helplessness does not charm the Lord of the next land to merge forces with ours. They are very stuffy and not very entertaining company, I'll have you know that. Father back is another coachman and the small coach, with the last two horses. Two men ride behind the small coach, with the same weapons as the two men ahead of my carriage. We are well protected, and it is not likely that we'd get any assault, but my coachman added, "Just in case."
It is always just in case, but the just in case never happens.
l~u~k~a
We have begun on the journey.
At first, as we drove from the palace, the land was well-cropped and beautiful. The iciness that had settled in for winter has not yet retreated, but snowdrops and hazel catkins, cowslips and lesser celandine, and red campion are already filling the fields. But as soon as we reached the meadow where the prettiest flowers lay, the land reverted to rough, wild grassland, its soil thick with sod. The houses here were sparsely spaced and the farms were huge. The sun made its way to the noonday mark. After a few miles or so, the wheels began crunching on gravel.
There is nothing more discomforting than riding on bumpy, unpaved or badly-paved ground. The carriage jolts and twists and trips. The horses' clip-clop of hooves soon turn to crunch-crunch, and after a while that becomes tiring. I cannot do anything without the carriage shaking somewhat. Yuzuki Yukari has taken the midwife's job; as the midwife cannot come with me, Yukari is the one teaching me my letters and numbers and calligraphy. The midwife does not know much, and can only teach me a limited amount, but Yuzuki Yukari knows even less. However, she can shape her letters beautifully, and she knows some words I do not although she is many ranks lower than me. Even then, the carriage's jolting prevents her from writing beautifully in any way.
I sighed and settled into a cushiony pillow. Yuzuki Yukari looked at me sympathetically. I had no idea that this trip would be so boring. Surely, I had hoped before, they'd occupy me with something. And there was nothing. Nothing, except mending and sewing, what Yuzuki Yukari was doing now.
I am the daughter of a lord.
I do not mend or sew.
That is the job of a commoner, a girl born in a middle- or low-class family, who turns into a woman at twelve and marries at the same time, thirteen being the latest. It is the law of our kingdom. If a commoner does not marry, then she would be a spinster forever, lest she disguise her age and runs off with a man. However, that is an inconceivable sin, one that would land her forever in the hell that awaits her. If a common girl knows better, she would try to find a suitable man by eleven-and-a-half and make him noticed by her parents.
As I have nothing else to do, I will go over the fuss about hell, all about it that I know, passed down from the midwife and other people I happened to overhear. Most of it, however, are from the midwife.
The hell… it has no place on our status rank. It is so low, it is more evil than the most evil thing committed, and I will not go into that, for it makes chills crawl across my skin, all the things humanity has done. Likewise my birth story, I have heard many variations about this tale, and this hell. It is known commonly that a woman and a man were responsible for the creation of the hell. The sins they committed, the crimes they beheld in their hearts. I only know that that little slice of information is true; and then, the story veers off into many paths, and those paths have forks as well. I recall a conversation we had once—
"Hell, Mistress Luka, is something so dark and bloody that it cannot be put into words. To sink below the lowest, the lower than low… it simply is such a horror that not even the scribe who is most skillful with words can explain. It is a wide sinkhole, layers and layers of darkness, its bottom unseen. Once you step in it there is no going back. You are pulled down, down, and down, toward the deep core. And there is no core. Hell keeps going on and on. The ride is terrifying… yes, Mistress Luka, utterly terrifying. You are raked mercilessly through spears and forks, pummeled over and over, battered until you cannot be battered any more… and yet you still are hurt, again and again, beyond your physical limit, beyond your mind's comprehension, until everything is just a blur to you. There is no exit to Hell. Only an entrance. And how terrifying that entrance looked! It—"
"You are being repetitive, Midwife," I had said.
"Repetitive it is! For Hell is a pattern that always changes and never changes; it is an extreme, an opposite of what it is. Hell was there at the base of existence, as was Heaven. Everybody wishes to get into Heaven, Mistress Luka, but only a portion are allowed in. The rest wander around in something that is not quite paradise like Heaven and not quite terror like Hell either. Yet they are contented. Back to Hell.
"… Where was I? Oh, yes, beyond your physical limit!" The midwife was getting very intense into the story. "It is so incredibly horrible. Even though you have your physical limit exercised, it is nothing like your mental limit! The moment you enter Hell you begin teetering on the edge of insanity. And you are pulled across the line. There is no helping it—if you don't wish to, and try to resist, it only happens all the faster. Centuries, Mistress Luka. Centuries of endless screaming, imagining of things that are not there, visions of appalling, awful things that make you want to die, but you are dead, and yet you want to die again… and again… and again. You want to relive your life, you want to go back and change the mistakes, but it is too late for them to change! So… therefore, as a little painkiller…"
I remember this part well. I was too fearful of what she was going to say next. "Intoxication?" I was whispering at that point.
"Ah… intoxication. No… not… quite. Intoxication is a sin, although it is not necessarily a bad sin." The midwife's forehead creased. "Mistress Luka, it is beyond your designated time for rest. You must go to sleep now."
"Lady Luka." Yukari's voice distracted me from my reverie.
"I thought you should know," quietly, with her eyes still downcast. "You seemed so spiritless, inattentive. But… we've entered the forest."
I turned my head and looked out of the carriage. Yukari was right. The pine scent hung thick and musky in the air. The wheels spoke clunk-crunch as it went over the soft carpet tree roots, fallen leaves, rotting natural items, and boreal needles blown to the ground by the wind. Only a few snatches of sunlight peeked through overhead. The golden light warmed my back and made small pools of liquid, warm gold on the floor of the carriage, the spidery shade of the trees making patterns upon it. The horses whinnied. Birds chittered and flew about. We were enclosed in peaceful semidarkness.
It was here that I felt a strange mutualism about Yuzuki Yukari. The girl looked young, very young, perhaps not exceeding fourteen. Yet she must have come from a common family—higher classes do not make their heiresses maids. Just like any other maid or midwife, she would be a virgin forever, never marrying. And so devoted was she to this practice. Don't think I haven't seen her before. She was one of the laundresses before she came with us on the journey. I saw her, arms loaded full of dirty clothes, running outside to the back and washing the clothes in a crude bin, and I could hear snippets of her singing. She always sang while she worked. And now, why is she not singing?
Is she this afraid of me, that she is afraid to say anything other than the most needed?
The very thought displeases me.
Ah.. I forgot to talk about the setting. I originally intended for it to be set in 1500s Europe, but after some thought, decided to make it an alternate dimension, since I hadn't done much research on 1500s Europe and therefore about 2% of the events in here are actually true to life at the time.
As for religion and the frequent mention of hell (i hope i didn't offend anybody. i'm sorry if i did)... in the 1500s A.D., I believe Catholicism reigned and there was a good amount of Christianity. People were burnt at stakes, beheaded, or some other thing for, well, believing in what they believed. So you'd expect a girl of such high position to at least believe in something, although the religion isn't specific. In fact, I have no central religion for Luka. It [her religion] depends on what part of Europe she lived in at the time.. then again, I am not setting the story in Europe. I hope that made sense.
Also, with the seasons.. I kind of forget what season this story is set in as I get immersed in my writing, so that's why the seasons may not be very true at all. I edited it and it should be pretty close, though. Since I decided it to be AU, the seasons really vary... because that's what I do when I write...
*Oh! And I cut off the chapter title with an ellipse because it couldn't fit. Best way ever, FFn...
Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter C:
(i know, i know, i was one day late at updating.. -_-)
~Unyielding Wish
