AN: Does anyone really want to wait until Friday for an update? LOL Not me. Thanks to Sally for getting this polished and back to me so quickly. See you at the bottom.
True Love: A Twilight Fairy Tale
Epilogue
A young woman gallops a dove gray mare across a flower-strewn meadow.
The horse is beautiful, compact and muscular, with strong legs and a well-arched neck supporting an expressive head. It has a thick coat of soft hair and darker gray feathering on its lower legs and feet. A long, luxurious mane designed to keep the neck warm in cold weather and a tail so full and long it would drag on the ground unless trimmed or plaited stream out behind the horse as it carries its happy rider across the field.
The young woman glances behind her, eyes the same gray as her steed crinkling with humor as she laughs at the man who gallops after her. His stallion is magnificent, too, with a shining coat that matches the raven hair of the woman he chases. Sunshine turns his chestnut curls to fire and intensifies the flush on his cheeks.
Their race ends at the edge of a cobblestone road, both of them laughing when they reach it at the same time. The road leads to a prosperous town located in the center of a rich, fertile valley and is busy with traffic. After giving their mounts a few minutes to rest, the couple carefully ease their horses into the throng of wagons, carts, and pedestrians weaving their way toward the village.
It's market day at the bustling town. Farmers, traders, and craftsmen from the neighboring hamlets have brought their goods to be sold or bartered. Buyers from more distant cities have arrived to purchase goods to resell in their bazaars. This is not an ordinary market day, however. It's also the annual peach fair, and this year's crop has been especially abundant.
On the outskirts of town is a pavilion built to provide seating for the kingdom's nobility. It overlooks a field, cleared and prepared for the afternoon's activities and the evening's feast and entertainment. The realm's popular king and queen are expected to arrive later in the day to preside over the festivities.
Across the field, workers finish the construction of a stage where jugglers, acrobats, and musicians will entertain the crowds during the day. Demonstrations of sword skill, spear throwing, and trick horseback riding, as well as archery contests, are planned for the afternoon. After the evening's feast, actors will present a play based on a popular local fairy tale, and Roselynn, the kingdom's most famous singer, will return to her hometown to perform.
The young couple leave their horses with a stable hand, who promises to feed, water, and give them a good rub down. His eyes widen at the gold coin he's given to ensure that promise. Horses cared for, they join the excited crowds, making their way to the fair.
The festival is a celebration for the senses. Sounds are everywhere: the lowing of cattle, the baaing of sheep, and the grunting of pigs all being herded into pens and readied to be sold, the shouts of tradesmen hawking their wares to customers strolling by, and the shrieks of laughing children as they dart through the crowd.
The young man stops for a minute, closing his eyes while he listens to the din around him. His companion smiles at his obvious delight, then laughs when he takes deep gulping breaths of the scents around them. There is the light fragrance of a lady's perfume, the sweat of workers still laboring to erect tents and stalls, and the warm dusty odor of the trampled grass and straw beneath their feet. He can smell the heavy dung of the penned animals, the sweeter smell of horses, and … his eyes snap open … fresh-baked bread?
Grabbing her hand, the young man leads her, laughing and stumbling, to the booth where a baker has just removed hot rolls from her oven. He grabs two, handing her one before devouring his and reaching for another. She stops him before he can buy a fourth, telling him to save room for fresh peaches and maybe chocolate for dessert.
They stroll through the food carts, the stalls, and booths. He wants to sample everything: sizzling pork sausages, chunks of marinated and grilled beef served on a stick for easier eating, small hand pies filled with vegetables and shredded chicken. Each new taste must be shared. He hand-feeds her bits and pieces, groaning when she teases him by sucking his fingers clean. He takes advantage by quickly kissing her cheek before they resume their wandering.
The farmers' wagons are piled with a rainbow of fresh produce. Sunny yellow squash and golden corn are heaped next to dark green spinach, broccoli, and string beans. They pass tables of deep purple berries and ripe red tomatoes. A child hands them small chunks of juicy melon, and then a cloth to clean the sticky residue from their hands. All the while, the sun warms his shoulders, and the breeze lifts his hair.
The colors, the scents, the tastes, the warmth are overwhelming, and the young man has to stop for a moment. The his companion squeezes his hand in support while he struggles with his emotions. "Thank you," he whispers when he's able to continue.
The food and produce are left behind when they make their way to the craft stalls. Anything and everything a person could possibly desire is available for purchase. A leather goods tent draws their attention and they admire the precise handiwork of the tooled belts and pouches, bridles and saddles. While she examines a lady's handbag, he quickly slips the saddler enough coins to purchase a charcoal gray saddle and matching bridle and reins. It's decorated with embossed roses and stitched in black. All the metal fittings and ornaments are silver. It will look magnificent on her mare. Arrangements are made for it to be delivered to the inn where they're staying.
He tries to buy her a golden necklace, rings for her fingers, earrings for her ears, and jeweled combs for her hair, but she grins and shakes her head. "I have everything I need," she tells him. "I'm happy and want for nothing."
More wandering, more examining, more declined purchases until he finally sees something she cannot refuse. At a bookseller's stall, he finds a thick tome bound in burgundy leather. After a quick exchange of coins, he places it in her hand, and she thanks him with her beautiful smile. She flips it open and finishes the poem she once read to a cold and empty room.
If I had known what trouble you were bearing;
What griefs were in the silence of your face;
I would have been more gentle, and more caring,
And tried to give you gladness for a space.
I would have brought more warmth into the place,
If I had known.*
"Thank you for the warmth you give me," he whispers. Throat clogged with emotion, she can only nod. He takes her hand, kissing her knuckles, before wrapping it around his arm. Together they continue following the crowds and winding their way through the rest of the craft displays.
Eventually, they reach the reason for the fair––peaches. Under a large canopy, they find table after table of ripe, juicy peaches. This time, they both stop to breathe in great gulping breaths of the sweet fragrance. Grinning at each other, they survey the offerings. There are sliced peaches drizzled with warm honey and topped with clotted cream and peaches baked in flaky hand pies. Pickled peaches and dried peaches, peach jam and peach wine. Finally, they settle for a small bag of perfectly ripened fruit.
Purchase in hand, they head for a large shade tree some distance away. He spreads his coat on the ground for them to sit on, and they plop down, tired from the day's activities and thankful for the cooling shade. He wipes his hand across his brow, then stares in astonishment at the moisture on his fingers.
"What … Is something wrong?" she asks.
"I'm hot. I'm sweating!"
A chuckle escapes her, and then she's giggling at his amazement. Soon he joins her, both of them laughing at the absurdity of his statement and the joy it brings.
When they've calmed a bit, he takes one of the peaches and pulls it apart. She bites into her half, juice bursting over her lips and in her mouth. His eyes follow a drop that trickles down her neck toward her cleavage. Leaning toward her, he lets his lips taste the sweet juice, tongue tracing its path up her neck to her chin, and then her lips.
He kisses her––deeply, thoroughly—savoring the combination of her and the sweet peach. When they pull apart, they're both flushed. "I think I may be sweating a little, too, my prince," she whispers. Then with a teasing grin, she adds, "Perhaps we should retire to our lodging at the inn for a little rest before this evening's activities. And maybe a bath?" With an answering grin, he picks up their purchases and quickly leads her to the village.
The village square is much quieter than the fair. Only a few locals are out and about. While he arranges for their accommodations, she wanders over to the middle of the area where a fountain sprays a cooling mist. She washes her hands and face in the clear water and studies the statue in the middle of the fountain.
A young boy, thinking perhaps of the coin she might give him, offers her a drink from one of the cups hanging nearby. While she sips the cold, sweet water, she asks him about the figure in the fountain.
"Oh," he eagerly answers. "That is our Beauty. She was the bravest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the whole world!"
The young woman smiles at his enthusiastic answer. "And, pray tell me, what did Beauty do that was so brave, so smart, so wonderful as to have a statue erected in her honor?"
"So," says the boy, warming to his story. "There was once a great scary beast that lived inside an ice mountain. All the people in the villages around the mountain suffered because of him, but Beauty wasn't afraid. She marched right into the mountain and told that beast he was being mean and rude!"
"Oh, my. This is truly an interesting story. Tell me what happened then?"
"Well, the beast felt bad because he knew she was right. So, he let her teach him about love. Then, since she was so beautiful and brave, the beast fell in love with Beauty. She loved him, too, and when he kissed her, he turned into a handsome prince."
"Wow, that is a wonderful story! Tell me how did you learn of it?"
"Nana told me."
"Your grandmother?"
The boy frowns briefly. "No. I guess she's everyone's grandmother. We just call her Old Nana."
The young woman with dove gray eyes and raven black hair studies the boy looking up at her. His dimpled cheeks are flushed and slightly dirty, and he's missing a front tooth, but she can see the handsome man he will someday become.
"When Old Nana told the story, did she ever say how it ended? Do you know what happened to Beauty and her beast?"
He cocks his head, considering. "I don't remember," he says. Then quickly adds, "But I can ask her. She's just over there telling more stories."
Before she can stop him, he's running across the square where an old woman sits on a low bench surrounded by wide-eyed children. The boy whispers in the woman's ear, and she looks toward the young woman standing by the fountain. A beautiful, loving smile graces the storyteller's face as their eyes meet. Then she says something to the young boy before turning back to her waiting audience.
The boy rushes back, bare feet slapping on the cobblestones. "Old Nana said." He stops to catch his breath. "Old Nana says they lived happily ever after."
And so they did.
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.* Excerpt from If I Had Known by Mary Carolyn Davies
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AN: I have so many people to thank for their help with this story.
Sally finds my unneeded commas and adds the ones I do need. She also corrects my occasional weird spelling and word choice. :)
Ipsita graces me with her beautiful banners and her thoughtful comments.
Donna's questions and suggestions help me work through the holes in my plot lines. Without her thoughts, this story would have never reached its final form.
Denise and Lynda cheer me on and keep me motivated.
Thank you to them and to all my readers, especially those who take the time to leave a review. Your comments are an author's reward.
Stay safe, stay sane, and always remember to love one another.
Janet