"The freedom...the open sky! Mine for the taking," he said breathlessly. Claire laughed and patted him on the shoulder, "Come on cursed one, we'll be starting the food soon."
They walked to the center of camp, where a large fire had become the hub of the army's bantering. A few people came out with flutes and fiddles, starting up an earthy tune that brought back good memories for Diaval. Women began to dance and men clapped along, laughing and trying to talk over the noise. The few children who had tagged along with the army played tag, weaving around the legs of the adults. A young girl almost careened into Diaval's legs before stepping back fearfully.
The raven knelt down to look at her, and gave her a genuine smile. She tentatively smiled back, and when he grabbed her hands, she followed him out to where the women were dancing.
Diaval felt himself let go of his worries for the first time in a long time. He simply enjoyed the music and danced with the little girl, twirling her around until she squealed with laughter. The beat sped up and his feet sped up with it, drumming the rhythm out on the crackly dirt floor. Other people began to join, and soon a huge crowd of dancers spun around the fire, giggling and shouting and tossing each other around. His breath began to feel short, but he only went faster, spinning and spinning.
Before he knew it, the song was over and everyone was clapping. He bowed out of forgotten habit an kissed the little girl's hand.
"I thank you for this dance, my lady." He said in between breaths. She curtsied awkwardly, then ran off to join her friends.
People had put food over the fire while they'd been dancing, and suddenly the smell of roasting pig caught his attention. He shuffled away from the dance floor as another song began, collapsing on a patch of grass not too far away. Claire came over soon after, giving him a peculiar stare.
"What is that look for?" He demanded.
"I just never imagined that you would be the type of person who liked children."
"Well, I guess you imagined wrong then."
It was strange...the man he used to be had been a lot like this dancer he had suddenly found himself as. He had loved children, and dancing and everything lively and fun...but as the years passed and as he had gone through one trouble after another, his smile seemed to have disappeared. His love of life had dimmed. His very soul had seemed numb, and blurry.
Maybe all he had needed was a good chance to spread his wings again. He hadn't gone in his raven form since Maleficent, and that had been much too long.
"Come..." said Claire,"Dance with me."
"Always your servant, mistress," he responded and so the two of them joined the waves of dancing couples.
Claire was a decent dancer. She obviously hadn't had any practice at a true royal ball, but she seemed to have natural body rhythm. The way she moved her hips and arms was graceful and elegant while powerful and somewhat tribal at the very same time.
The two danced, and the people around them gave them plenty of room to maneuver.
By the end of it Diaval was drenched in sweat. Normally he couldn't stand the feel of sweat, but he felt so utterly elated by the music and the cheerful attitude of the crowd, that he hardly even noticed.
He had rested for a few minutes when another song started. He told himself he wouldn't dance again. He was far too tired for that!
But when he saw a young woman, standing near the edge of the circle, he found himself leaping to her side and sweeping her away.
The night went on like that, with dancing and eating and laughing and talking, for several hours before Claire encouraged everyone to rest for the march tomorrow. The "encouragement" put an end to any sort of frolicking, and the army immediately made it's way into bed. Diaval found a bed to sleep in in the soldier's quarters, and within minutes the raven had fallen fast asleep.
The next day was almost the same as the last, except for the fact that Diaval had begun to grow bored up in the air. He started to come down every once in a while, checking up on his mistress, flying around the heads of the children to keep them entertained and just watching the people. They were quite entertaining, their conversations mainly centered on what they hoped the future would hold. Most of them seemed to believe that Claire would be the new Queen, they discussed it quite often.
As the sun looped overhead, there was a disruption in the line. A small group of soldiers had suddenly begun to fight, causing mayhem and putting everything to a halt. Diaval perched on a tree limb nearby, watching as the witch drew near. As soon as she had dismounted, the men stopped fighting and looked at her like schoolboys caught doing mischief.
"Who started it?" She said simply.
Two men were pushed forward.
"My lady," said the first one, "This man was trying to steal my property!"
"Property that is owned by the army collectively!" Shouted the second man, "We are an active group of people who work together to accomplish an important goal. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine! You have more than enough to eat, while I and my wife have nothing! It is a social responsibility to share what you have with your brothers."
The first man was about to shout back when Claire advanced, putting them both into silence. She looked into the eyes of the second man, staring him down until he squirmed.
"That soldier has worked hard for his property. It is his. He is not obliged to share it with you, nor is he obliged to let you take it from him. Maybe he ran into more luck than you did, but that doesn't give you permission to steal what isn't yours."
The second man grit his teeth, seething out, "But that isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair!" Claire screamed, freezing everyone around her in fearful shock. The witch stepped back, as if she were shocked herself. She took a minute to gather her wits, then said, "The sooner you get used to it, the sooner you can move past it."
Without another word, she mounted her horse and rode to the front of the line. The Scarlet Army followed, pondering her behavior and gossiping about the men until late at night when Claire finally decided to halt. The camp was made, but there was no dancing this night. The people were too busy talking. After eating, Claire walked a ways from the camp and sat down at the side of a creek. Diaval debated joining her. If she wanted to talk she likely would have brought him along.
But what if she needed to talk?
Diaval slipped away from the chattering army groups and went to sit beside his mistress. She said nothing, only stared into the rippling water.
After a few seconds, Diaval uncomfortably noticed that a tear was running down her cheek. He shifted his weight, not sure what to say.
"I'm dying, Diaval."
The sentence was so abrupt and sudden that it took a while for him to take in the meaning.
"Wh-what? What do you mean?"
Claire continued to stare into the water, her expressionless face adding another tear to trickle down and land on her fingers.
"All this power is killing me, it's too much for my body to handle."
Diaval turned his body to face hers.
"Well...well why don't you stop? You plan on killing more witches? Getting more power? That will only-"
"Kill me faster," she finished for him.
He didn't respond. He didn't really need to.
"You don't understand, I'm the only one who is powerful enough to kill all of them. I can't just stop. There are more people that have to be freed. More people who need to be shown how wonderful it is to have your life to yourself, you know?"
"You would sacrifice yourself for them," he said. It wasn't a question, it was more of a realization.
"Of course. Wouldn't you?"
"Well...I might say that I would...but when it came down to it? I'm really not sure."
"That's where we differ then. I've always been sure. I've just known: My destiny is that of a martyr. I've come to accept it...even be a bit proud of it."
"That's not true. I can hear it in your voice. You're angry."
Her strong wall of confidence crumbled more and more with every tear that fell from her eyes.
"No..." She whispered.
"You're angry at life. You want desperately to save them, but you don't want to die to do it."
"No...I'm not selfish like that."
"It's not selfish, Claire, it's called being smart. You shouldn't just throw your life away. Is there any way to survive? Any way to save them and live?"
Claire turned to him, looking into his eyes with that deep stare.
"I've been trying to find a way. I've been reading all of the books and asking the experts and doing everything I can. I've looked through almost every magical resource in the kingdom. There is no way."
"There must be something...the newer resources don't speak of a witch's magic. Their magic is older, darker and more dangerous. You need to find the old books and look through those."
"Diaval I don't have time!" She cried out, "I believe I have a few more months left, but I have three more witches to kill. I'll have survived past expectancy if I can even make it to the last one."
"Well send someone out then! Send someone to find the books and bring them back."
"Send a soldier, who joined only to fight for his own freedom, to find books that will do nothing to help him in any way? Any of my soldiers would do that for me, but I simply cannot take them away from their cause. I have resigned myself and I am okay with it."
Filthy, dirty lies. Straight from the mouth of a woman who might otherwise be perfect. He felt like crying, simply because of his anger. Why wouldn't she just let go? Do what she could to survive?
Maybe if...
"I need you in this battle, cursed one," she whispered, almost reading his thoughts, "Liona is my most dangerous enemy yet, and you know her better than anyone. I need you to come with me to the library."
"Do you have a death wish, girl?" He erupted, standing up and beginning to pace along the creek.
"It wouldn't be a problem for a single soldier to volunteer to try and find those books!"
Claire bit her lip, and Diaval hoped that she was rethinking her flawed logic.
"Where would they have to go?" She asked.
"Someplace dangerous, certainly," he admitted, "But if we let him know of the risks, and he volunteered anyways..."
"How dangerous?" She asked, standing up and wiping the tears from her face.
Diaval bit his tongue, his lying instincts desperately wanting to kick in.
"Extremely. He would have to travel through the Dark Forest in the Moors."
Claire glared at him, "Absolutely not!"
"So you'll put your life on the line for them, but you won't let them do it for you? Is that what you're saying?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying, cursed one, now do not speak of this to me again!" She burst, and with a huff she walked away back into the crowd.
Stupid girl. Stupid, oblivious girl. If the soldiers only knew what she needed they would go off themselves, without her blessing and risk their lives anyways.
Diaval paused. She had ordered him not to mention it to her. She had not, however, ordered him to mention it to someone else. The raven ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. Oh, how he missed the old times, when everything was simple and there was only happiness./tt/pre