The Cold Destiny
Author: Luna Sealeaf
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Andromeda, am not making any profit from this, it's purely for fun.
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe, since later chapters may become more mature
Strength
Key Words: Action, energy, courage
She knelt before the tall fireplace, the only source of warmth in the room, whose high-vaulted ceiling created a perpetual draft. The woman's mouth moved as though in prayer, but no sound came from them.
"My Lady?" A timid looking girl entered, carrying a slip of parchment in her hand. The woman rose in a smooth motion and turned to the girl. With one glance the woman took the paper and gestured for the girl to leave. Once she was alone she unfolded the paper with trembling hands. Had all their plans turned to naught?
But no; she should have known better than to doubt herself or the will of the Gods. For there, written in a flourishing script, were three simple words that conveyed an endless measure of comfort.
It has begun.
The night was agony for Harper. He could not get comfortable enough to sleep, and his mind was in such turmoil that he could not have slept in any case. In the few moments when he dozed, images of his friends –Trance, Beka, Dylan, being tortured and killed in front of him. His entire fault. They would scream and his head would snap up, where he would find he'd been dreaming.
Trance had warned him not to give in; not to let them separate him from his friends. But what choice did he have? If he continued to refuse he was sure they would end up like Pegno and then force him to do what they wanted anyway.
As the sun began to creep over the frozen, barren land, he at last came to a decision. For once, he hoped Trance had been mistaken in her advice.
That morning Cielde ordered her people to prepare themselves for the journey back to the Palace. Tazione, too, mustered a few of his troops. After a few hurried minutes of talking and planning, the Empress snuck into Tazione's tent and to the section where Harper was held. She was both startled and satisfied by how terrible he looked; his eyes were rimmed in red and bloodshot, he looked pale except for a dark bruise on his face from where Tazione had hit him.
"Good morning." She said with a sneer.
"What's going on? I keep hearing people shouting and wagons." He seemed dazed and Cielde suddenly wondered if he'd been given anything to eat or drink the last twenty four hours.
"We are preparing to leave. Have you reached a decision yet?" He was silent, a troubled expression on his face. Something had changed overnight, she could tell; he was much less confident, and much quieter, than he had been before.
"I'll do what you want, if you'll let my friends go." Harper finally said.
"Of course! They shall be released immediately to go on their way. But you must come with me and make a speech to the people, Tazione's loyal followers, as well as to your friends, so that all may know that you come with us willingly and of your own free will."
"Trust me, nothing I say will convince my friends that I'm not doing this because of threats or because I'm under duress." Cielde gave a careless shrug.
"Just do your best. Tazione will bring you some clean clothing and some water. I'd give you food but," She peered at his face intently. "You look like you'd only throw it all back up." Harper gave her a wry grin.
"I didn't know you cared."
"I don't. But you must look like the God's Chosen, or else no one will believe us. At least, not until you undergo the Trials." She muttered these last words as she turned and left, the hanging curtain falling back into place behind her.
It was dark in the tent where Dylan, Beka, and Trance were kept. Suddenly the door was swept aside and light flooded the tiny room. Squinting at the forms entering Dylan realized they were guards. The men who entered were silent, deadly looking spears at their sides. One by one they untied Dylan and Beka from the post, leaving only their hands bound. Trance was also brought to her feet, and all three were heavily escorted outside.
"What's going on?" Beka asked nervously, seeing the crowds of people packing up tents and milling about.
"Silence!" on of their guards said gruffly. Dylan just shrugged in answer to Beka's question. They were led to a large wooden platform, and Beka suddenly had a moment's panic; were they about to be publicly executed? But no, they were taken to the sides of the large crowd that had assembled to watch….something. The wind was cold and Beka shivered as they waited, exchanging worried looks with Trance and Dylan.
"This is not good, this is not good," Trance was muttering repeatedly to herself until the guard holding her told her to be silent. The girl looked paler than normal and seeing her look worried made Beka all the more worried.
At last three forms, flanked by guards and servants, stepped onto the platform amidst cheers from the crowd. One of the figures was Tazione; resplendent in red robes that shimmered in the early light. The other was a golden haired woman of exquisite beauty who Beka took a sudden intense disliking to. Beside her, Trance gasped.
"That's the Empress," She explained when Beka gave her a quizzical look. Beka was confused; Tazione was some sort of rebel leader, why would he be in league with the monarch? This world made absolutely no sense to her….but then, maybe the two had made peace and she and her friends would be let go. It was a wild hope, and one that was quickly shoved to the back of her mind when she saw the third figure. Her jaw dropped open.
"Harper." Dylan said in amazement. Indeed, the short figure on the platform, too far away for Beka to accurately make out his expression but obviously Harper nonetheless, was wearing robes of brilliant gold; on his upper arms were bands of gold with glittering stones. Strange symbols, that, again, she could not quite make out clearly, had been painted on his arms and forehead. She was sure that if she could see his face, he would be dying with embarrassment. As it was, she could barely hold back a laugh.
It wasn't that the robes made him look silly, in fact, from this distance he actually seemed quite handsome, but the thought of Harper –her Harper- dressed in such finery, such alien finery, was simply absurd.
The people around them didn't seem to think it was absurd however. The woman, whom Trance had said was the Empress, was speaking in the native language of P'Laraska, and as she spoke the crowd bowed and then knelt on one knee, even the guards around Beka, Dylan, and Trance, who were also forced to their knee.
Now the woman switched to Common.
"I present to you; the Hands of the God, the Avatar and Voice of our Blessed One, and our Lord. He goes with us to the Holy City so that he may take his oaths and prove himself. Then, my Lord Tazione and myself shall return to the capital, where peace shall be restored. No longer will you fight against your brothers and sisters! The Hands of the God will bring happiness, order, and prosperity back to our land! The sun has risen on a new day!" In jubilation she lifted Harper's hand and the crowd cheered again, wildly. Beka wanted to laugh, but she also had a sinking feeling that what was happening was not good. Not good at all. The sun had risen on a new day indeed.
Shortly afterwards the three were led back to the tent, told that they would be released as soon as the Empress, Tazione, and the Hands of the God were on their way.
"So what are we going to do?" Beka asked immediately once they were alone. Dylan gave a helpless shrug, though he didn't look happy.
"Whatever we can."
While they were led back to their tent, Harper was ushered into a transport with Tazione; Cielde was entering a separate one and the two were saying goodbye.
"I shall await your return at the Capital." She said calmly. Tazione bent and kissed her hands.
"The Hands of the God," He gave a light smirk, "and I will be with you as soon as we are able."
While they were saying goodbye Harper was searching for a way to escape. Feeling extremely uncomfortable, and not to mention foolish, he anxiously looked for someplace to hide or run. He had no such luck; guards were everywhere, and while they watched Harper with a respectful awe, he knew they would stop him from leaving if Tazione told them to. The Empress and the Rebel Leader had taken care to explain that the potential Chosen One was a foreigner, and a little nervous about his destiny, and his new surroundings confused him, so he was to be watched –for his own protection, of course. And since no one would want to risk incurring the wrath of the God by allowing harm to come to His Chosen Avatar, they obeyed.
As he realized there was no hope of escape, Harper caught Tazione watching him with an amused smile.
"Come; I am sure you are as anxious as I to put the Trials behind you, and assume the rank and position that is your due." The words were for those surrounding them, but Harper sensed a mocking tone in the other man's voice. With a vice-like grip on his arm that looked as though he were merely guiding him to those watching, Tazione led Harper onto the transport, where he was given 'special' quarters; a cell, fit for a king, but with its windows boarded up, and no heat to be felt.
"It's a long journey to the Sacred Temple; I suggest you make yourself comfortable." And with one last smirk, he locked the door. Harper sank to the floor, still not quite ready to admit defeat, he began planning a way to rejoin his friends.
A/N: Again, sorry this chapter is so short. I think the next one will be longer, though it may take a while to be finished. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed or been reading. The next chapter will be titled: The Hermit
