AN: Sorry for the long wait, my internet was down for way too long! But it's back on now and I'm going to try and get a few more chapters out soon!
Cedric Crane and the legend of Sleepy Hollow
Chapter 12: Inky black curls
Cedric Crane wasn't sure exactly when he became aware that he was awake. He laid in bed un-moving for an unknown length of time, eyes shut, mind hazy, and begging sleep for one more hour of tranquility before the start of a new day.
Slowly breathing in and out, the man pretended not to notice how stiff the pillow felt beneath his head, nor the growing pain in his hip where he laid against the thin mattress. He shifted onto his back, seeking comfort for his slender frame, and as he did so, the wire springs creaked a horrid sound from underneath him.
The noise pierced his ears, leaving a hole in the drowsy veneer he'd been clinging to, and bit by bit Cedric became more perceptive. Against his wishes, cruel sleep slipped further away from his grasp, and the now completely awake part of his mind was rousing him from the dreamy depths. He gave a grumble to no one, as the lids of his eyes cracked themselves open.
His view was black however, and it was as if he couldn't see at all. The air was still and stuffy, with no glow of daybreak, only pitch black darkness. And the lightless void of his surroundings convinced Cedric that his senses must have been mistaken. It couldn't be dawn, so he must still be asleep he reasoned, before his eye lids lazily closed once again.
But, instead of drifting back into slumber, he felt the phantom sensation of a set of fingers gripping his neck. Cedric heaved beneath the pressure, and his own hands reached up to pry the attacker away, but he found that there was nothing holding him. It was too dark, and it would seem his fears were trying to suffocate him.
"Cedric!" The hallucination ceased when a voice cut through all the other illusions, and sent him shooting into an upright position.
In silence, he listened intently with his eyes straining to burrow through the darkness. Cedric tensely clutched the bed covers as he searched pointlessly for the owner of the shrieking voice, though, he already knew he wouldn't find her. For this feminine voice was only a remnant of her. The final moment just before her demise, tormenting him forever with an unyielding anger and self-doubt.
The unknown void around him caused a rising panic in him, and with a gulp, Cedric bolted from the bed. He stumbled over things he couldn't see in the room, even slamming into a blank wall before finding what felt like a door handle. He forced it open in his desperate need to escape the unseen nightmares, and then all the worlds light assaulted him at once.
The sealed room hadn't revealed any hints of the unrelenting sunlight blaring in from a hallway window, and the sudden blindness sent Cedric tumbling to the floor with a loud thud, hitting his head on the adjacent wall.
But being free didn't completely release him from the grip of terror he'd been trapped in, and his gaze peered into the small lightless room. As if he believed an assailant had actually been pursuing him, the petrified scholar stared in astonishment at the absent phantom.
In the path of Cedric's retreat was a trail of chaos. The blanket had been jostled off the bed, and his trunk case shoved to the side, the small stack of books he'd arranged atop it were toppled and kicked to the ground. Even with such little amounts of furniture in the space, Cedric had managed to make an absolute mess of it in his clumsy haste.
Remaining on the floor a moment longer, Cedric took some time to gather the reality, and wipe away the cold memories that haunted his subconscious. He could imagine people laughing at his child-like fear of the dark, but once his heavy breaths calmed, Cedric sighed in relief to be in the golden rays of morning sunlight.
That damned voice, that damned woman, that damned night, Cedric's teeth clenched as the visions of his past faded from the forefront of his mind. He shifted to brace his back against the wall behind him, before investigating the impact to his head. Caressing the spot, it stung to the touch, but the pain was a welcomed reminder of the present, so he chose not to treat the injury just yet.
It was then that Cedric sensed the stare of tiny eyes to his left, and lifted his gaze to meet the observer. Standing in the entryway to another room was Lucious Lockhart, partially concealed by the door frame. "Are you alright Mr Crane?" The young one asked with concern on his face, but didn't make any attempts to approach the man.
The child seemed to have a habit of lingering in open doorways, and Cedric assumed he'd seen this entire catastrophe unfold. He tried to assemble an amused expression, acting as though it was all quite comical. "Yes, I-I couldn't see a thing with out the candle lit." He explained with a forced chuckle. "Perhaps your Mother could invest in some electric lights one day."
Cedric was a bit ashamed when he finally realized he'd fallen asleep in the clothes from the night before, but kept an air of dignity, as he combed his fingers through the paler locks of his hair, and stood to adjust the collar of his dress shirt.
"I don't like the dark either Mr Crane." When Lucious said this, Cedric froze. He expected something more from the statement, an explanation, or maybe some encouragement, but the boy provided nothing else before simply walking past him, and carefully descending the staircase.
Cedric's face drooped once his audience was away, and his heart flooded with self-pity. "Is it truly so obvious that I am a coward?" He whispered to himself, again placing a comforting palm to the topside of his head, but the moment of internal loathing was interrupted by a muffled conversation coming from below.
The day had apparently begun with out him, and Cedric's attention returned to the open closet door where his belongings were scattered about the floor. With a heavy riding boot, he propped the door open so that it wouldn't close behind him, and anxiously entered the closet.
After lighting the small candle on the side table, Cedric moved to tidy his things, first collecting his fallen books to replace upon the trunk case. He then took up the blanket so that he may remake the bed, but when he lifted the soft quilt, he noticed a black cloth spill from it's folds.
He plopped the messily folded blanket onto the mattress, now more interested in the displaced cloth. He picked it up off the ground and pinched the fabric between his fingers before recognition struck him. "Gah, right! Mrs Mills!" Cedric exclaimed, folding the loaned cloak over one arm and hurrying out of the room.
Cedric downed the stairs and wound the corner into the tavern's dining area, where traveling strangers were enjoying their hot meals. He was briefly distracted by the smell, but ignored it as he panned the tavern for the fiddler girl. "Oh, Merlins… she's gone again." The scholar muttered, smacking an open palm against his forehead, and let out a frustrated huff.
With no sign of her, Cedric hastily moved to the tavern exit. He grabbed his riding coat from the hook as he went and carelessly slipped his arms into the sleeves, before pulling the door open with a screeching swing. Hoping to catch up with Vivian, he flung himself out into the cold, but then had to abruptly halt his stride to avoid a collision with the woman right on the doorstep.
Startled, she spun to meet him, and her olive eyes scanned his face before darting away to the snow covered ground. Her inky black hair curled around her pale snow kissed cheeks, and the dress she wore was white and thin like a light summer gown, very ineffective against the harsh cold. "E-excuse me sir…" Vivian mumbled, barely able to force the voice out of herself, and then she was nearly dashing off into the woods before Cedric could say a thing.
"Ah, madam. Pardon me but, are you Mrs Mills? The tavern musician?" Cedric inquired, already knowing it was her name, as he'd seen her the night he arrived to Sleepy Hollow.
The woman stopped, and slowly turned to face him again. Practically hiding behind her parasol, she stared at his feet as opposed to his eyes, and her head nodded gently in reply.
"This is yours… isn't it?" Cedric asked offering the woman her black cloak with the extension of his folded elbow. "You lent it to me a few days ago and… and I wanted to return it to you."
Vivian glanced at the cloth, but then blinked away again, a pinkish blush lighting her cheeks. Hesitantly, she stepped closer to accept the possession, before quickly reclaiming the distance between them. "Th-thank you…." She mumbled softly, and then the two fell silent, neither knowing how to continue.
After the pause of reserved glances, Vivian finally muttered a farewell. "Well, I'll be off then…"
He said an equally polite goodbye, and the fiddle player was on her way down the path heading for town. Perhaps, if Cedric were a better man, he'd have offered to escort her home… but he was not… and he did not.