A/N: Hello everyone! I was supposed to publish this chapter yesterday, but I'm overwhelmed by university exams and it's really difficult to keep up with everything. Also, this chapter has not been easy to write. I tried to describe how the characters feel, something I'm not really good at, so I hope the final result won't disappoint you. I had to work really fast so I apologize if grammar or syntax aren't correct. Anyway, I'm always anxious to hear what are you thoughts on this fanfiction, so feel free to message me whenever you want!
Chapter Five: Small Steps
It was dawning when Arslan went on the panoramic terrace built alongside the eastern wing of the Palace. The king got closer to the parapet yawning. The rosy light flooded the entire valley of Ecbatana and a slight mist lingered around the city. Suddenly a dull creak resonated in the air. The young man looked straight ahead and saw the eastern urban gate lifting slowly: the capital was waking up.
Arslan yawned again and rubbed a hand over his face. He had struggled a lot to fall asleep and he didn't manage to rest but a few hours.
"As if I could ever do something that might hurt you…"
That sentence had kept repeating itself in his head the whole night. He had said it the previous evening giving spontaneously voice to his thoughts, but then those very words had come back tormenting him.
They had spent together less time than he would have wanted to, even so Arslan felt like he could consider Étoile one of the most important people in his life. The crossing of their roads had always coincided with the fundamental milestones of the path that made the naïve and shy prince he was, a strong and valiant king. Seeing the young lusitanian after so long had awakened an overwhelming joy and excitement in the sovereign's spirit. Étoile had been in the Palace for just over two days, and yet having her by his side and being able to talk to her at any time seemed something natural and essential to him. The initial euphoria, however, was slowly fading, leaving in its place a sense of surprise and discomfort at the same time. Something, in those four years, had irremediably changed. Étoile had changed. The gentleness in her manners, the willingness with which she opened her mind to new ideas, the tendency to confront with different points of view… if it weren't for the ardor that illuminated her eyes, for the decision that marked her voice, for the confidence in her gestures, he would have thought he was in front of a different person. Her character had improved in all the aspects it could improve and Arslan wanted, above all, to show her how hard he had worked to reduce those flaws that stained his gentle and noble spirit. The sovereign was enraptured by the new Étoile, and yet he silently thanked the gods for having let unchanged that ardor, that strength and that confidence that guided the young commander's every action. Those were the traits that fascinated him and that he benevolently envied her. He was constantly working hard to better himself and he saw in her those features that he dearly wanted to make his.
Arslan closed his eyes and Étoile's image popped into his mind, lightened by the sunset light in the meeting room, smiling and proud of the uniform she was wearing. That sharp and confident gaze of hers… it was one of the things he loved most about her.
A gust of wind ruffled his silver hair and Arslan stirred. That simple acknowledgment had unsettled him. Without realizing it, he had moved the first, involuntary, small step towards the awareness that maybe Étoile wasn't just the other point of view he had to reckon with, the lusitanian ally who had accompanied him in the reconquering of his kingdom.
Arslan came off the parapet and sighed. He had gone out in the fresh air to find serenity and order his thoughts, but his mind was even more confused and crowded than before.
A hiss broke the air and Azrael flew over the Palace opening his large grey wings wide. The king followed him with his eyes, smiling softly.
Étoile had forced her men out of the comfort of their beds as soon as the first sunray touched the earth. She ordered them to put on their uniform and take their swords to start the training earlier, in order to use the last blows of the nice night breeze. Furthermore, according to the young lusitanian, some physical activity on an empty stomach would have improved their performance. Thibaut and Yanis obeyed grunting and even Kostàs couldn't held back an annoyed yawn. Once in a small square over which looked out two overlapping sequences of columns, the commander had challenged them one by one, defeating all three of them incredibly fast. Malakai watched giggling as Étoile scolded the young knights, who were sitting on the ground sulky and arms crossed.
Étoile shook her shoulders and snorted annoyed. Then she turned towards Malakai pointing her sword against him. The knight composed himself, pulled out his blade and assumed his combat stance, ready to face his training session. Étoile squinted to concentrate better, but her attention was stolen by a small cortege suddenly crossing the corridor beyond the upper sequence of columns. She lifted her gaze and saw Arslan leading the small group, with an unfolded scroll in his hands, while discussing something with his counselors.
He was smiling and his face was lively, slightly marked by light dark circles under his eyes. He answered politely any question he was asked, reassuring with a gesture of his hand the most skeptical ones.
Étoile smiled unwittingly. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have found it difficult to believe the change that Arslan had gone through in those years. He was a young man now, a king willing to do everything possible to help his people. He was always attentive to the weakest ones' needs, happy to stay among his people, skillful administrator. Those few days she had spent at the Palace were enough to see how much he had grew up: he discussed politics with men who were a lot wiser than him and he wasn't ashamed to ask for advice if a subject was unknown to him or if he felt unsure. The qualities he had shown as a boy had amplified.
The smile on Étoile's lips faded away. All of this didn't change the fact that, after all, he was still a heathen. And yet, he was proud, worthy, altruist. He embodied perfectly the model of knight she had always aimed for and it was that ideal perfection of his one of the things she liked the most about him.
Étoile felt a strange sensation in her chest, as if a pin had pierced her reaching her heart. She lowered her eyes and took a deep breath. Suddenly, she felt agitated, torn between two opposite and equally strong forces.
«Commander?»
Étoile swallowed and closed her eyes to find her concentration again.
«Commander, I'm ready. Is everything alright?», Malakai asked her raising an eyebrow. The feeling that oppressed her chest melted as fast as it had appeared and Étoile nodded vigorously. She waited a few seconds then she attacked under the dozing eyes of her men.
Arslan reached the end of the corridor followed by the men of Court, unaware of anything.
The morning passed without unusual events and in the afternoon all the employees in the Palace were allowed a couple of hours to rest.
A nice silence had fallen upon the rooms and the corridors, interrupted from time to time by the birds' chirping or by the neigh of the horses closed in the stables.
Arslan stood panting for a few seconds, then he threw himself against the straw puppet in front of him once again. A sharp cutting blow and he ripped off the swollen sack that served as head. He delivered two other well executed blows and the dummy lost both his arms. The maneuver had been successful, yet the king wasn't satisfied with his work. He distanced himself from the puppet and retried more slowly the same moves, to understand what he was getting wrong.
He had had a light and quick lunch, then he had wanted to be left alone. He walked in the inner garden, struggling to find a solution to the city's problems, but all that effort was making his head explode. So, he thought that distracting himself by training his swordsmanship would have helped him to clear his mind and to concentrate better later.
He repeated the maneuver again and threw himself against the straw puppet. He pierced it from side to side making some yellowish, long strings stick out from the hole. Arslan withdrew the sword and rubbed a hand over his sweaty forehead. He headed towards a rocky counter on which were some clean clothes, a pitcher of water and a silver goblet, when suddenly he heard a slow applause coming from his right. He turned abruptly and saw Étoile beyond the marble parapet that separated the small square from the inner corridor. The girl smiled lofty and headed towards him continuing to clap her hands slowly.
«Congratulations!», she started jeering. «You've really improved!»
Arslan shook his head smiling. He picked up the goblet, poured some fresh water and lifted it to his lips. Étoile quit clapping and stopped a few steps away to look a t him. His hair was down and he was wearing a fair, sleeveless tunic that sweat had stuck on his chest and back. Arslan grabbed a cloth from the counter and rubbed it on his face to dry the drops that trickled from his temples.
«What are you doing here?», he asked the young woman turning towards her.
«I was taking a walk», she replied. Then she smirked. «I complimented you earlier, aren't you going to thank me?», she said pretending to feel offended.
«With that tone?», the king asked frowning jokingly. «It seemed a mockery to me…». Étoile lifted a hand to her chest to emphasize even more her fake resentment.
«No, no! I was serious», the young woman defended herself. «I mean, clearly there are still visible flaws in your abilities as a warrior, but considering that only a few years ago you believed a hoe was a weapon…». Arslan laughed and put the cloth on the board again.
«I had good reasons not to use my sword, Commander!», the young sovereign retorted, recalling immediately the event Étoile was referring to. At that time he was only a prince, furthermore a fugitive, but nor even then he had backed away facing the possibility to help a defenseless girl and her poor father. «Anyway, I have to admit I wasn't a very valiant warrior back then. But, as you said yourself, I've really improved…», he said getting closer to the girl, still holding the weapon in his hand. Étoile closed her eyes shaking her head and was about to leave.
«No matter how much better you are, you wouldn't stand a chance against me…»
The lusitanian didn't get to finish the sentence before Arslan's sword brushed against her neck.
«Do you want to bet?»
The young woman's lips bent into a smirk. It took her an instant to pull her own sword out the scabbard and turn around to make it clash against the sovereign's. They stood there, motionless, looking into each other's eyes for a few seconds. There wasn't embarrassment in their gazes, just a strong determination and in the spark the enlightened Étoile's amber eyes, the king understood that the young woman had accepted his challenge. And she had no intention to lose.
Arslan moved backwards to pounce forcefully on the lusitanian again. The girl responded with equal impulse and the two engaged a no-holds-barred battle. The noisy clashing of the two blades got soon a rhythm going that marked the steps and movements of the two. Both of them seemed to be able to foresee the opponent's moves so that neither of them managed to get the better of the other. Their maneuvers were almost synchronous and the precision of their blows made that entanglement of weapons and bodies seem more like a dance than a fight.
Étoile had soon to admit that the bay had actually improved. His moves were precise and his blows flawless. He was fast and strong. He moved quickly balancing on his legs and no matter how hard she tried, surprising him with some new move was proving to be more difficult than expected.
Arslan knew he would have surprised her. He was aware of his limits, but he was also sure that now his abilities had reached an excellent level. However, Étoile was just as worthy. She was agile, fast, she snuck off between his legs to hit him on his back and wielded the sword as if it was a natural extension of her arm. Their bright eyes locked every time the fight placed them one in front of the other.
The blades crossed for the umpteenth time and the young king's gaze met the girl's one, but this time it slid along her neck, her shoulders, then on her chest, her waist and along her legs. Étoile wiggled out and attacked again strongly, but Arslan didn't respond with the same effectiveness anymore. All of a sudden he appeared clumsy and his blows lost strength. Rather than avoid or oppose the opponent's attacks, the sovereign seemed to focus his attention on Étoile's agile body. The king observed again how the girl moved around him and he realized for the first time that the young lusitanian wasn't hiding her womanhood anymore.
Arslan felt a certain embarrassment and mentally reprimanded himself for having thought such a thing. He tried to concentrate on the fight, but Étoile had noticed that the king's attention was wavering and she took advantage of it.
In less than a second Arslan found himself up against the wall, unarmed and with Étoile's sword at his neck. The young woman was staring at him straight into his eyes, her lips bent in a clear smile of victory. It took a few instants to Arslan to understand what had happened and the expression on his face went from surprised to really annoyed.
For a few seconds they stood motionless and panting, looking at each other.
«Rule number one», Étoile said softly. «Never underestimate your opponent». The young woman addressed a jeering smile to him, then she lowered her sword and turned her back on him to leave.
Arslan jumped at the chance.
He smiled ambiguously and rushed forward to grab Étoile's right wrist. He made her turn around pushing her on the counter of stone and pointing her own sword at her neck. The pitcher of water fell shattering and the goblet rolled, hit by the king's hand that pressed Étoile's arm against the surface to prevent her from moving.
The roles inverted and the young lusitanian snorted, annoyed by the prideful expression painted on Arslan's face.
«Rule number two», the young king whispered leaning over her. «Never lower your guard». Étoile grumbled again frowning and Arslan chuckled pleased. The chuckle, however, soon faded into silence.
The young man lowered his gaze on the girl's face. They had never been so close. Étoile had surely noticed too, since she didn't seem upset like a few seconds earlier. She could feel the warmth of Arslan's body on her and a light blush colored her cheeks. She would have wanted to wiggle out and avoid that embarrassment, but for some reason she didn't know how to explain she couldn't stop getting lost into the young king's eyes. After a few seconds the embarrassment vanished too and Étoile felt overwhelmed by a pleasant sensation of calmness and she almost didn't feel the coldness of the stone of the counter anymore.
Arslan slowly moved the sword away from her neck but didn't loosen his grip on the young woman. He feared that if he had done it, she would have left and for some strange reason, he felt that was the last thing he wanted. He looked at her intensely and he was surprised to notice some details of her face he had never seen: the long and curved black eyelashes that crowned her amber eyes, her thin nose, her rosy skin, her perfect lips. That feeling that just earlier, during the fight, had costed him the victory, seized him again, but this time he didn't try to send it away.
Not even they ever knew for how long they stayed in that position, motionless, staring at each other. Nothing had managed to distract them from one another, not even the rushed steps that suddenly resounded in the corridor and then in the little square.
«Majesty! I found…».
Elam stopped after a few meters. His sharp voice, however, had been enough to reawaken the two that, still laying on the counter, turned abruptly towards the portico. They saw Elam with his arm raised, holding in his hand a couple of scrolls and on his face a confused expression, to say the least.
«If you are busy, I can come back later…», he said pointing at the corridor behind his back.
«No!», Étoile shouted getting up and forcing Arslan to do the same. «I was leaving…», she continued grabbing her sword from the king's hand and putting it back in the scabbard. Elam raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but he preferred not to inquire any deeper. The girl greeted them both trying to control her embarrassment and left the small square quickly. The young counselor followed her with his gaze, then he turned to the sovereign again.
Arslan leaned against the counter, supporting himself with a hand. He felt like he had just stepped out of a dream and for a moment he wavered bewildered.
«Is everything alright?», Elam asked more and more confused. The sovereign rubbed a hand over his face, then he smiled calmly.
«Yes, of course», he answered, but he was still feeling that strange and inexplicable sensation warming his chest. He turned towards Elam, who was standing there without batting an eyelid.
«What did you have to show me?»
Étoile ran until she reached her apartment's door. She rested a hand against the wall and leaned forward to catch her breath. She took a deep breath and let her back rest against the wall. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get out of her head Arslan's blue eyes, so intense and piercing they reached her heart. She rubbed a hand over her face, making it slide on her neck, where Arslan had pointed the sword. She closed her eyes, sighing. She thought she could still feeling the warmth of his body, the scent of his hair, and she couldn't help but image what could have happened if Elam hadn't shown up so suddenly.
When she opened her eyes, Étoile found Kostàs right in front of her, looking confused and with a raised eyebrow. The girl came off the wall immediately and rubbed her hands over her tunic to look led shaken. She knew all too well her face was burning so she prayed her young subordinate wouldn't pay too much attention.
«Is everything alright, Commander?», Kostàs asked instead.
«Yes!», Étoile answered a bit too impetuously. »Did something happen?», she asked while her breath gradually went back to normal and the blush on her face faded.
«No. I just wanted to… talk to you», the young knight said showing a certain nervousness.
«Alright. Go ahead…», Étoile agreed looking distractedly around.
«I wanted to apologize for what happened the other night. I was really dishonorable. I lost control, but I swear it won't happen again! This is a promise!». Kostàs spoke just like his heart suggested him, holding his breath. Étoile looked at him and had the impression that that sudden river of words had cos a lot to the poor knight, so much he was blushing.
«No problem. It wasn't your fault», Étoile told him, smiling to calm him. However, she got the opposite result and the knight blushed even more.
«I am serious, don't worry…», the young lusitanian repeated. «Anything else?». Kostàs nodded.
«Yes. I … I wanted to thank you. I was the laughing stock of the city, but you allowed me to show my worth, and my family will find her honor again. I'm immensely grateful!», he exclaimed bowing his head more to hide his purple face than to show respect. Étoile raised her hands to shield herself.
«No need to say that! I'm happy to help, when I can. Don't worry, really», she told him gently. Then she grabbed her apartment door's handle and was about to enter greeting Kostàs with her hand.
«No, wait!», the young man exclaimed raising his face. Étoile stopped and turned towards him.
«I…I …». The commander was looking at him waiting for him to finally say something, but Kostàs couldn't find enough breath and courage to give voice to his thoughts.
«Nothing», he sighed eventually. He raised a hand to greet her and rushed through the corridor. Étoile watched as he turned the corner, then she retired in her rooms.
Arslan stared sighing at the pile of scrolls. Elam had crossed the entire palace twice before succeeding in gathering all of them on the king's fair wooden desk. The young counselor started unrolling hem one by one, handing them to the sovereign, who, having dipped the quill in the inkwell, placed elegantly his signature on the documents.
Authorizations for banquets, special openings of temples, rules for citizens… all events Arslan had to express agreement on so that the parsian Pantheon Celebration could be held. The annual recurring event involved all the inhabitants of the kingdom, who flowed in great numbers into the capital to celebrate in one day all the gods they usually prayed. It was a most important occurrence, that Arslan had wanted to establish soon after his coronation to make it an element of cohesiveness for all his subjects.
In the crisp, evening air the citizens had already started hanging lanterns and garlands on their houses' doors, and the priest and priestess in the temples were pronouncing the last invocations so that the gods gave peace and serenity to their faithful followers.
Arslan dipped the quill into the inkwell and signed the umpteenth document. Elam turned to grab another one from the desk.
«What do you think of Étoile?»
Elam turned around abruptly dropping the scroll that rolled until it stopped against one of the legs of the ebony wardrobe next to desk.
Arslan was looking at him straight into his eyes, with the quill still in his hand, biting imperceptibly his lower lip.
«Majesty?», the young man asked raising an eyebrow and bending to pick up the scroll. «What do you mean?». Arslan put the quill on the table, leaning against the armchair's backrest. He spent a few instants looking at the ring made of gold and ruby he was wearing on his left hand. Elam was waiting quietly.
«I mean… she's really changed…», the king said starting playing with the jewel's stone.
«Without doubt!», Elam agreed immediately recalling the rude and bad-tempered manners that characterized the girl when she was first welcomed in their army.
«The fact is…», the king resumed, «I wasn't expecting to see her again so suddenly and such… different. She's cheerful, polite, respectful, but also strong, self-confident, determined. I can't believe we've been apart for so long. I mean, it's amazing to have her here. Seeing how much she worked to reach her goals incites me to work harder myself. For some reason, I'm always afraid to say or do something that could disappoint her…», the young sovereign confessed hinting a smile. Elam inspected his face to try to understand what Arslan was hiding under those words. He knew his king all too well not to realize that that unusually awkward behavior of his was concealing a lot more. Arslan stared for a few seconds at the quill abandoned on the desk, then he spoke again.
«The truth is… Étoile fascinates me. Every time I talk to her, every time I look at her, I discover something new of her character, of her personality and since she came back I … I can't stop thinking about her».
«Majesty!», Elam exclaimed, finally understanding what the sovereign was about to say. Arslan stopped talking and lifted his gaze on the young counselor's face. «Forgive me, but I don't consider myself suitable for receiving such thoughts. I'm afraid I won't be able to support you in any way…», he said lowering his voice. Arslan smiled sadly resting his elbows on the desk.
«Sorry», he sighed. «You have so many concerns to take care of, I shouldn't bother you with my personal matters…». Elam stared for a few seconds at the sovereign's disconsolate and thoughtful expression. It pained him to see him in such a state, but at the same time he had no idea how to help him in a situation like that. It wasn't a rational matter, let alone an objective one. It was about feelings, a subject towards which Elam felt clumsy and inexperienced. He stood quietly for a few instants, then his face lightened up. Maybe he could still have given an advice to the young sovereign.
«Anyway,… there's still something I feel I can tell you: follow your heart, as you always have. I'm sure you'll manage to find the answers you're looking for», Elam said smiling confident. Arslan smiled back.
«Thank you, Elam». They spent a few moments in silence. «The documents that need to be signed are almost over. I can continue on my own. Feel free to go and rest», the king said grabbing the quill again. Elam didn't insist and after a wide bow he excited the office thanking the sovereign.
Arslan finished signing the scrolls, then he put down the quill and stood up to stretch his legs. He got closer to the window and followed with his gaze the movements of the sentinels that guarded the walls. The moon was shining, spreading in the dark sky her faint silver rays.
He sat back on his armchair, running a hand through his hair. What was he supposed to do? An awfully great confusion ruled his mind. He didn't know how to explain those unknown feelings that burdened his chest. He was agitated and the sudden thought that Étoile would leave in a few days made a shiver run down his spine.
He absolutely had to find the way to spend more time with her. To him, it was the only solution suitable for unraveling the tangle of feelings and sensations that had woven around his heart. But how could he dovetail all his duties with that new necessity of his?
Arslan lowered his head and thought for a few moments. Then his face lightened up.
He grabbed a blank scroll and wrote down a few sentences with the quill. He signed it and called for a dispatch rider. He gave the message to the man who appeared at the door, ordering him to read its content to all the recipients specified on the back of the scroll. The dispatch rider nodded and disappeared quickly in the corridor.
Arslan sat back at his desk smiling pleased. A few minutes later the king heard someone knocking at the door. The young sovereign gave permission to enter. The door opened wide and on the other side appeared Lord Cyrus, with his tunic crumpled and out of breath: he had rushed into Arslan's office as soon as he heard the message.
«A hunting trip, Sire?»
A/N: in the final part of the chapter I use the word "Pantheon". The word's origin is ancient Greek and literally it means "all-gods"
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Bye!:)
- Kiara