title: Elusive Thoughts | Chapter 6
rating: PG-13
author: Mir
email: incandescence@juno.com
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.
AN: Please note the upped rating on this section. I'm fairly
sure that the next section will carry a PG-13 rating as well
(although for different reasons *g*). In this chapter, the rating
is for violence...nothing overly nasty - but more than merely
implied (as it was in the prologue). I figure it's better to over-
rate than pull readers into something they would rather not
read. That's all. So sit back and enjoy - and if you have snow,
take advantage of it and make a snow angel ^_^.
*Chapter 6*
The first race had just begun, and Darien stood at the edge of the track,
hands anxiously clutching the railing. People passed behind him, never suspecting
that the quiet young man who cheered for Lord Andrew's horses was actually the
Prince of the Desert. He leaned forward as the horses passed, breeze ruffling his
hair. For the last several Caucuses the purses for the races had consisted of gems
instead of money, and this current one was no exception.
"Grant's Pass for emeralds, all competitors to the starting point immediately!
Final call for Grant's Pass," the announcer bellowed, and Darien sighed, wondering
if ~she~ was watching the races as well. As he waited for the second race to
begin, he turned his back to the track (for although each race had a different route
they all started and finished at the same point) and watched the other spectators
pass by. "Enjoying the races Milord?"
He looked around upon hearing the familiar voice, eyes finally resting upon the
head of his squire, Justin, who was proudly decked out in Desert blue and gold.
"Yes...I guess so." The reply was ambivalent, apathetic, but he smiled reassuringly,
and Justin, satisfied, began to walk away. Darien reached out and grabbed his arm
before the squire had gotten far. "Say, Bronshire for diamonds, is that the sixth race?"
He tried to sound nonchalant, but Justin caught the yearning in the Prince's voice, and
his eyes glittered compatrioticly. "Aye...should I saddle Daffyd for you...?"
Darien nodded. "Yes, but keep it quiet." He didn't know what compelled him
to participate in an activity that Ariane had disdainfully termed 'reckless' and 'foolish'
only hours before. Bronshire was a trail that wound down away from the starting
point, a rocky path through the woods followed by a long stretch across an open
meadow. 'Even with the diamonds there shouldn't be too many entries', he thought
to himself as he began making his way discretely toward the stables. 'Many breeders
wouldn't risk their horses beneath the trees'.
He changed into the clothes that Justin had laid out for him, jersey brightly
proclaiming his rank and homeland. 'Oh well, I guess there's nothing I can do
about that. Obscurity is a privilege I was forced to give up long ago'. As he
regarded himself in the dressing room mirror he couldn't help but notice the dark
circles under his eyes, evidence of the past month. "I had to tie weights into
Daffyd's saddle, Milord, so remember that he won't be able to respond as quickly
as you're used to." Justin shrugged. "Even with your height you're still under the
minimum weight requirement."
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head into Rei's shoulder.
"Ooh, I can't watch, I can't watch," she proclaimed as the thundering horses
raced toward the finish line. She lifted her head to peek. "Hey, Serena, lay off
a bit, will you? I'm going to have bruises all up and down my arm," the other
responded, not wishing to become a human pillow. All the girls were sitting
in the stands watching the races and chatting in between, but despite the festive
atmosphere, none could banish completely from her mind the earlier incident at
the cloth booth, Serena especially.
She had seen Berlyn walking down by the race track but had lost sight of
her in the sea of brightly-garbed people. The princess had replaced the conspicuous
purple cloak with a simply-colored dress, and Serena hypothesized that she
must have decided to keep a low profile. 'I wonder what she's thinking, what
she's scheming'.
But she let her thoughts about Berlyn slip from her mind as the announcer
called the next race. "Bronshire for diamonds. Will all competitors now..." She
glanced briefly at the riders, looking to see if any of them wore Desert colors -
and almost fell out of her seat when she saw the Prince himself sitting proudly
atop his eager mount. Words escaped her, but she grabbed the nearest arm she
could find and pointed madly in his direction.
- - - - - - - - -
He could feel Daffyd tense beneath him as they stepped out onto the track.
The horse was too well-trained to fidget or bolt but was nonetheless anxious to be
off. 'The best of Andrew's stock', he thought to himself, reaching down to gently
slap his neck. 'If he can't leave the rest of these riders in the dust, no one can.'
As the other competitors joined him at the starting line he sized up the competition,
mentally noting which horses and riders bore watching. 'The far one with the white
foreleg looks pretty fast; there's some good breeding in its shoulders...' And so the
long minutes before the start passed.
When the race began he didn't need to urge Daffyd to go faster, the horse
knew. He could barely see where they were going, so thick was the dust thrown
into the air by dozens of pounding hooves. 'Why did I think this was going to be
fun?' he thought to himself as he held on for dear life, but as the horses left the
starting point and turned into the woods he could see that there were only two
riders ahead of him. So he leaned forward, trying to reduce the air resistance as
much as possible. 'If I have to go through with this I might as well try to win while
I'm at it.'
Branches seemed to sprout out of nowhere, snapping in his face and slashing
painfully across his back. The trail was narrow, barely wide enough for two horses
to fit abreast, and when the horse ahead of him slipped and fell Daffyd was forced to
execute a hasty jump to keep from trampling the fallen animal. If Darien had already
had second thoughts at the beginning of the race, he was terrified now, not caring if
he won, but merely wanting to reach the finish line alive. His heart raced at a fantastic
pace, pounding so quickly that his head spun, and he almost lost his tenuous grip as
Daffyd went careening around a sharp bend.
He risked a glance behind him and saw only quickly retreating trees vanishing
from his line of sight as Daffyd sped onward. He'd stopped trying to guide the horse
long ago, deciding it was safer to place his trust in his mount's instinct and footing
then leave the situation open to human error. As the world flashed by in a blur of
terrified hyperventilation, Darien was astonished to see the rider ahead of him
twist around in his saddle and pull something from his boot.
But before he could figure out how the rider had enough balance to do so,
a glass blade sliced silently though the air, barely missing his left ear; Darien's mouth
dropped open in surprise. 'What the Hell?' The rough forest terrain flattened itself
into open meadow below him, and sunlight once again streamed down upon the
racing pair. The front rider again twisted round, and Darien, try as he might, couldn't
get Daffyd to turn away, so intent was the horse on gaining the lead. He watched the
other raise he arm, aim, and release...but in the slit second as the knife left the attacker's
hand a blinding flash of light appeared before him, and he was thrown from his rearing
horse, falling limply to the ground.
Daffyd ran on, and Darien slumped forward, right hand reaching for the
glass knife embedded in his left shoulder. Blood dripped onto the earth below,
leaving a red trail back to the scene of the attack. He barely noticed as Daffyd
trotted across the finish line, sides heaving and mouth foaming but head held
proudly, barely noticed the astonished gazes of the spectators to see the Prince
of the Desert bleeding before them. The world spun briefly, then faded into
blackness, and for that Darien was infinitely grateful.
- - - - - - - - - -
As the horses left the starting line Lady Ariane's words of teaching
flashed across her mind. 'If you're confident in your abilities you can weave
yourself into the sunlight as easily as you can the moonlight.' So she reached
upward, stepping outside herself and following Darien along his terrifying flight
toward the forest. She watched as one rider tumbled off of his horse only
just managing to scramble out of the way of fashing hooves, watched as
another rider flicked his whip across the hindquarters of the his neighbor's mount.
She lost sight of him when he entered the forest, the leaves filtering
the sunlight and obscuring her vision. But as she closed her eyes she could
taste his fear, her heart beating in time with his. Oblivious to her surroundings
she waited, holding her breath and praying for his safety.
Then the two lead horses emerged from the woods, and Serena gasped
as she saw the front rider raise his arm, glass blade glittering in the sunlight.
She didn't stop to think but rather threw whatever power she could gather at
him, enveloping him in a brilliant flash of light and heat. Her eyes followed
his descent to the ground, and she could feel his death, sense that she'd
committed an unspeakable crime. But her thoughts immediately gravitated
back upon the lone rider cantering back toward the spectators, and she flinched
when she saw the red trail stretching out behind him.
And then she was back in her own body, breathless and pale. She
blinked, clenching her hands into fists then slowly releasing them. Her gaze
fell to the racetrack where Daffyd was arriving, clearly pleased with himself
for winning over younger horses. But her eyes were for her Prince only, and
she gasped as she saw him slide limply from the saddle onto the ground.
Lady Ariane was there, hovering over him like a mother hen, and Justin soon
arrived, leading Daffyd off to be sponged down.
Serena was stunned, shocked, too alarmed to do anything beside hold
her breath and stare. Her actions, with distasteful clarity, were returning in
rapid succession. 'What have I done, what have I done?' Her friends, unaware
of Serena's role in the unfolding occurrences, assumed she was reacting to the
Prince's condition and tried to offer their encouragement. Serena brushed
their comments off with uncharacteristic disinterest. 'I killed him. I felt him
die. But what could I do? What else could anyone have expected me to do?'
Finally acknowledging the worried gazes of her friends, she smiled
slightly, then slipped from the stands before anyone could stop her. Blind to
the ever-shifting crowd of spectators, she traveled wherever her feet would
take her, not really caring where she ended up. 'Lady Ariane will disown me
for sure, and Darien will hate me, and my friends will think I'm such a terrible
person, and...'. She glanced up at her surroundings, and her train of thought
faded as she beheld the familiar dark blue canvas of Darien's tent.
She pressed her ear up to the side, straining to her whether voices
conversed inside, but heard only silence. So, with caution, she pulled open
the entrance flap and stuck her head inside. "Ack! Don't hurt me!" she
yelped, scrunching her eyes shut, afraid to watch, and Justin lowered the
knife he'd been about to throw, sighing. "Sorry, Milady, you scared me."
'Yeah, and you scared me as well', she grumbled to herself, stepping
inside and closing the flap behind her. "Good thing you didn't throw that,"
she replied with a quick grin. "I don't think Darien would have been too
happy to find me lying outside with a knife through my heart." Her eyes
glittered in jest, humor gained from another brush with disaster. "By the way...
where is he?" she inquired, self-pity temporarily replaced by concern for the
one she had saved.
"Oh he's here Milady, come with me." And in the back of the tent lay
her Darien, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him look in weeks. 'Pity he's
unconscious...I need to talk with him, and he looks so peaceful...so receptive.'
She knelt down beside the bed. "Is, is he alright?" Justin nodded. "Aye,
Lady Ariane just left a few moments ago. She said that he'd merely fainted
after the race and that the only thing that bears watching is the wound to his
shoulder. It's not serious unless it gets infected, but you know how
preoccupied the Prince is at times...."
Serena nodded, taking Darien's hand. His eyelids fluttered, and she
asked Justin quietly, "Could you give us just a moment in private?" So, the
squire, ever the romantic, grinned as he retreated back into the front room.
Darien opened his eyes, blinking the semidarkness, and cleared his throat.
"Serena? Wh-where did you come from?" She smiled, sitting down next to
him on the bed and placing a finger to his lips.
"Shh...everything's alright. I don't know whether to hug you or skin you
alive for that act you pulled out there on the racecourse. I suppose Lady
Ariane's fit to be tied...but the only thing that matters is that you're back and
you're safe." He reached up, fingers cupping her cheek then drifting over to
sweep the strands of hair from her face. "I've forgotten how beautiful you are
when you're mad a me," he murmured, shifting slightly.
"And who says I'm mad at you?" she countered, helping him sit up. He
raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That certain twitch of your mouth," he replied,
touching the offending dimple gently. "We have to promise to always be honest
with each other, Serena - always ." She stifled a sigh. 'does he suspect
something? Suspect that I had something to do with the events at the race
course and is testing me...?' she thought to herself, debating whether or not the
moment was right...for her confession.
"Darien," she caught his attention with seriousness of her tone, effectively
dampening the mood, "I, I have something I need to tell you." And to his credit,
his expression of patient indulgence didn't waver at her remark; he nodded, pulling
her in toward him until her head rested against his chest. "In the garden, after the
coronation dinner, you asked how I had created the wall, and I put the explanation
off until later - " she began, wiggling a bit as she settled down beside him. "And
the time is now?" he replied, hoping that no one would walk in and see them so
close together.
"Well, you said we had to be honest with each other," she teased gently.
"That I did." He winced slightly as her head brushed against his bandaged
shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice . "For as long as recordkeepers have kept
their records, the Goddess has granted special innate abilities to Her chosen, but
although these gifts are present from birth, they must be cultivated, developed, and
trained. It is the job of the Lady of Moonlight Keep to locate those whom the
Goddess has chosen and train us to our full potential." Darien nodded; all of this
was relatively common knowledge, at least among princes.
"She found me when I was no more than four or five and brought me to
the Keep. She and the other girls are the only family I can really remember...
but when I was about ten I began having these dreams, dreams of a handsome,
dark-haired man," She looked into his eyes, implications of the previous statement
clearly written across her face, "and Lady Ariane promised me that someday I'd
meet him. I think that's what kept me going throughout the years, her promise that
one day...I'd be with you."
Darien, at first surprised by her choice of words, leaned back against the
pillows, eyes half-closed in thought. "It's odd, the way you put that," he began.
"When I was six my parents were killed out on the desert sands, betrayed by
their own guards, and Ariane came to me in the dark of night. Kerri was there,
holding my hand protectively, but Arian pulled me away, away to the center of
the garden, and showed me...a conjure of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen
in my life, promised me that one day we'd be together." Again, his eyes gave him
away, proclaiming the identity of his elusive maiden. "From that day forth I looked
at every light-haired women who came to the Castle, ever hopeful that the promised
day had come...and then it did."
"Do you think?" Serena replied with a giggle. "Do you think that Lady
Ariane brought us together for a purpose?" Darien shook his head. "It's always
a possibility, but I prefer to think it's something beyond the desire of mere
mortals, Ladies of Moonlight or not - your Goddess, perhaps?" She stiffened
at his implication of divine intervention. "I, I don't know...we don't presume to
know the Goddess's intentions...but there is ~something~, isn't there?" she
responded, afterthought softening her initial response.
"I've learned a lot since I came to Crystal Castle, Ariane's taught me
well. The night of the coronation I had no idea what I was doing; I acted out
of instinct. Today, my actions were purposeful, and no longer can I use
innocence to plead my case..." and in whispered tones she described how she
had used her powers during the race. "...I didn't mean to kill, I never meant
to take a life. Lady Ariane's going to disown me for sure when she finds out...
oh!" She was sobbing now, soaking Darien's sheets while he tried to comfort
her.
"And how do you know Ariane's going to find out?" he implored,
indirectly adding his support for her actions. Serena was taken aback, both by
his observation and the fact that he didn't appear to be mad at her. "Wh-what
do you mean?" He grinned, that cocky self-assured smirk that had won her
heart. "Well, you keep moaning and groaning about how the world is going
to come to an end because Ariane's going to disown you, but how's she going
to find out that you -unintentionally- killed a man (who was, in the mean time,
intent on killing me) in the first place?" She blinked, absorbing his words. "I
don't know, I guess you have a point...but itstilldoesn'tmattershe'sgoingtokillme."
Darien shook his head, able to spot a hopeless case a mile away.
"Come, Serena," he cooed, rubbing her back with his good arm. "Don't be
upset. I'm so proud of you for what you did today...does it really matter what
my cranky, old Godmother thinks anyway? What she doesn't know can't
hurt her, right?" And Serena, blinking away her tears, blew her nose on the
edge of Darien's sheets. "Oh, you're right...you always are."
*end of Chapter 6*
- - - - - - - - - -
Are you ready for the next chapter? Ooh, I am ;) - but it's not written
yet. Remember, patience is a virtue. Anyhow, school is scheduled to
begin soon, so (baring any major blizzards or like occurrence) there will
probably be slightly longer time lapses between forthcoming chapters.
Sorry for the inconvenience, but real life beckons, and I've no choice but
to follow.
- Mir 12.27.00
.
rating: PG-13
author: Mir
email: incandescence@juno.com
website: http://cathedraldragon.tripod.com/sm/
disclaimer: Sailor Moon, et al. belongs to Naoko Takeuchi,
etc., etc., and so on and so forth ^_^. The other characters
belong to me...for whatever that's worth. I have no money
to speak of, so suing me will not make you rich. Yes, and
this story was inspired by Melanie Rawn's *Dragon Prince*.
Kudos to her, it's an excellent novel.
AN: Please note the upped rating on this section. I'm fairly
sure that the next section will carry a PG-13 rating as well
(although for different reasons *g*). In this chapter, the rating
is for violence...nothing overly nasty - but more than merely
implied (as it was in the prologue). I figure it's better to over-
rate than pull readers into something they would rather not
read. That's all. So sit back and enjoy - and if you have snow,
take advantage of it and make a snow angel ^_^.
*Chapter 6*
The first race had just begun, and Darien stood at the edge of the track,
hands anxiously clutching the railing. People passed behind him, never suspecting
that the quiet young man who cheered for Lord Andrew's horses was actually the
Prince of the Desert. He leaned forward as the horses passed, breeze ruffling his
hair. For the last several Caucuses the purses for the races had consisted of gems
instead of money, and this current one was no exception.
"Grant's Pass for emeralds, all competitors to the starting point immediately!
Final call for Grant's Pass," the announcer bellowed, and Darien sighed, wondering
if ~she~ was watching the races as well. As he waited for the second race to
begin, he turned his back to the track (for although each race had a different route
they all started and finished at the same point) and watched the other spectators
pass by. "Enjoying the races Milord?"
He looked around upon hearing the familiar voice, eyes finally resting upon the
head of his squire, Justin, who was proudly decked out in Desert blue and gold.
"Yes...I guess so." The reply was ambivalent, apathetic, but he smiled reassuringly,
and Justin, satisfied, began to walk away. Darien reached out and grabbed his arm
before the squire had gotten far. "Say, Bronshire for diamonds, is that the sixth race?"
He tried to sound nonchalant, but Justin caught the yearning in the Prince's voice, and
his eyes glittered compatrioticly. "Aye...should I saddle Daffyd for you...?"
Darien nodded. "Yes, but keep it quiet." He didn't know what compelled him
to participate in an activity that Ariane had disdainfully termed 'reckless' and 'foolish'
only hours before. Bronshire was a trail that wound down away from the starting
point, a rocky path through the woods followed by a long stretch across an open
meadow. 'Even with the diamonds there shouldn't be too many entries', he thought
to himself as he began making his way discretely toward the stables. 'Many breeders
wouldn't risk their horses beneath the trees'.
He changed into the clothes that Justin had laid out for him, jersey brightly
proclaiming his rank and homeland. 'Oh well, I guess there's nothing I can do
about that. Obscurity is a privilege I was forced to give up long ago'. As he
regarded himself in the dressing room mirror he couldn't help but notice the dark
circles under his eyes, evidence of the past month. "I had to tie weights into
Daffyd's saddle, Milord, so remember that he won't be able to respond as quickly
as you're used to." Justin shrugged. "Even with your height you're still under the
minimum weight requirement."
- - - - - - - - - -
Serena squeezed her eyes shut and buried her head into Rei's shoulder.
"Ooh, I can't watch, I can't watch," she proclaimed as the thundering horses
raced toward the finish line. She lifted her head to peek. "Hey, Serena, lay off
a bit, will you? I'm going to have bruises all up and down my arm," the other
responded, not wishing to become a human pillow. All the girls were sitting
in the stands watching the races and chatting in between, but despite the festive
atmosphere, none could banish completely from her mind the earlier incident at
the cloth booth, Serena especially.
She had seen Berlyn walking down by the race track but had lost sight of
her in the sea of brightly-garbed people. The princess had replaced the conspicuous
purple cloak with a simply-colored dress, and Serena hypothesized that she
must have decided to keep a low profile. 'I wonder what she's thinking, what
she's scheming'.
But she let her thoughts about Berlyn slip from her mind as the announcer
called the next race. "Bronshire for diamonds. Will all competitors now..." She
glanced briefly at the riders, looking to see if any of them wore Desert colors -
and almost fell out of her seat when she saw the Prince himself sitting proudly
atop his eager mount. Words escaped her, but she grabbed the nearest arm she
could find and pointed madly in his direction.
- - - - - - - - -
He could feel Daffyd tense beneath him as they stepped out onto the track.
The horse was too well-trained to fidget or bolt but was nonetheless anxious to be
off. 'The best of Andrew's stock', he thought to himself, reaching down to gently
slap his neck. 'If he can't leave the rest of these riders in the dust, no one can.'
As the other competitors joined him at the starting line he sized up the competition,
mentally noting which horses and riders bore watching. 'The far one with the white
foreleg looks pretty fast; there's some good breeding in its shoulders...' And so the
long minutes before the start passed.
When the race began he didn't need to urge Daffyd to go faster, the horse
knew. He could barely see where they were going, so thick was the dust thrown
into the air by dozens of pounding hooves. 'Why did I think this was going to be
fun?' he thought to himself as he held on for dear life, but as the horses left the
starting point and turned into the woods he could see that there were only two
riders ahead of him. So he leaned forward, trying to reduce the air resistance as
much as possible. 'If I have to go through with this I might as well try to win while
I'm at it.'
Branches seemed to sprout out of nowhere, snapping in his face and slashing
painfully across his back. The trail was narrow, barely wide enough for two horses
to fit abreast, and when the horse ahead of him slipped and fell Daffyd was forced to
execute a hasty jump to keep from trampling the fallen animal. If Darien had already
had second thoughts at the beginning of the race, he was terrified now, not caring if
he won, but merely wanting to reach the finish line alive. His heart raced at a fantastic
pace, pounding so quickly that his head spun, and he almost lost his tenuous grip as
Daffyd went careening around a sharp bend.
He risked a glance behind him and saw only quickly retreating trees vanishing
from his line of sight as Daffyd sped onward. He'd stopped trying to guide the horse
long ago, deciding it was safer to place his trust in his mount's instinct and footing
then leave the situation open to human error. As the world flashed by in a blur of
terrified hyperventilation, Darien was astonished to see the rider ahead of him
twist around in his saddle and pull something from his boot.
But before he could figure out how the rider had enough balance to do so,
a glass blade sliced silently though the air, barely missing his left ear; Darien's mouth
dropped open in surprise. 'What the Hell?' The rough forest terrain flattened itself
into open meadow below him, and sunlight once again streamed down upon the
racing pair. The front rider again twisted round, and Darien, try as he might, couldn't
get Daffyd to turn away, so intent was the horse on gaining the lead. He watched the
other raise he arm, aim, and release...but in the slit second as the knife left the attacker's
hand a blinding flash of light appeared before him, and he was thrown from his rearing
horse, falling limply to the ground.
Daffyd ran on, and Darien slumped forward, right hand reaching for the
glass knife embedded in his left shoulder. Blood dripped onto the earth below,
leaving a red trail back to the scene of the attack. He barely noticed as Daffyd
trotted across the finish line, sides heaving and mouth foaming but head held
proudly, barely noticed the astonished gazes of the spectators to see the Prince
of the Desert bleeding before them. The world spun briefly, then faded into
blackness, and for that Darien was infinitely grateful.
- - - - - - - - - -
As the horses left the starting line Lady Ariane's words of teaching
flashed across her mind. 'If you're confident in your abilities you can weave
yourself into the sunlight as easily as you can the moonlight.' So she reached
upward, stepping outside herself and following Darien along his terrifying flight
toward the forest. She watched as one rider tumbled off of his horse only
just managing to scramble out of the way of fashing hooves, watched as
another rider flicked his whip across the hindquarters of the his neighbor's mount.
She lost sight of him when he entered the forest, the leaves filtering
the sunlight and obscuring her vision. But as she closed her eyes she could
taste his fear, her heart beating in time with his. Oblivious to her surroundings
she waited, holding her breath and praying for his safety.
Then the two lead horses emerged from the woods, and Serena gasped
as she saw the front rider raise his arm, glass blade glittering in the sunlight.
She didn't stop to think but rather threw whatever power she could gather at
him, enveloping him in a brilliant flash of light and heat. Her eyes followed
his descent to the ground, and she could feel his death, sense that she'd
committed an unspeakable crime. But her thoughts immediately gravitated
back upon the lone rider cantering back toward the spectators, and she flinched
when she saw the red trail stretching out behind him.
And then she was back in her own body, breathless and pale. She
blinked, clenching her hands into fists then slowly releasing them. Her gaze
fell to the racetrack where Daffyd was arriving, clearly pleased with himself
for winning over younger horses. But her eyes were for her Prince only, and
she gasped as she saw him slide limply from the saddle onto the ground.
Lady Ariane was there, hovering over him like a mother hen, and Justin soon
arrived, leading Daffyd off to be sponged down.
Serena was stunned, shocked, too alarmed to do anything beside hold
her breath and stare. Her actions, with distasteful clarity, were returning in
rapid succession. 'What have I done, what have I done?' Her friends, unaware
of Serena's role in the unfolding occurrences, assumed she was reacting to the
Prince's condition and tried to offer their encouragement. Serena brushed
their comments off with uncharacteristic disinterest. 'I killed him. I felt him
die. But what could I do? What else could anyone have expected me to do?'
Finally acknowledging the worried gazes of her friends, she smiled
slightly, then slipped from the stands before anyone could stop her. Blind to
the ever-shifting crowd of spectators, she traveled wherever her feet would
take her, not really caring where she ended up. 'Lady Ariane will disown me
for sure, and Darien will hate me, and my friends will think I'm such a terrible
person, and...'. She glanced up at her surroundings, and her train of thought
faded as she beheld the familiar dark blue canvas of Darien's tent.
She pressed her ear up to the side, straining to her whether voices
conversed inside, but heard only silence. So, with caution, she pulled open
the entrance flap and stuck her head inside. "Ack! Don't hurt me!" she
yelped, scrunching her eyes shut, afraid to watch, and Justin lowered the
knife he'd been about to throw, sighing. "Sorry, Milady, you scared me."
'Yeah, and you scared me as well', she grumbled to herself, stepping
inside and closing the flap behind her. "Good thing you didn't throw that,"
she replied with a quick grin. "I don't think Darien would have been too
happy to find me lying outside with a knife through my heart." Her eyes
glittered in jest, humor gained from another brush with disaster. "By the way...
where is he?" she inquired, self-pity temporarily replaced by concern for the
one she had saved.
"Oh he's here Milady, come with me." And in the back of the tent lay
her Darien, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him look in weeks. 'Pity he's
unconscious...I need to talk with him, and he looks so peaceful...so receptive.'
She knelt down beside the bed. "Is, is he alright?" Justin nodded. "Aye,
Lady Ariane just left a few moments ago. She said that he'd merely fainted
after the race and that the only thing that bears watching is the wound to his
shoulder. It's not serious unless it gets infected, but you know how
preoccupied the Prince is at times...."
Serena nodded, taking Darien's hand. His eyelids fluttered, and she
asked Justin quietly, "Could you give us just a moment in private?" So, the
squire, ever the romantic, grinned as he retreated back into the front room.
Darien opened his eyes, blinking the semidarkness, and cleared his throat.
"Serena? Wh-where did you come from?" She smiled, sitting down next to
him on the bed and placing a finger to his lips.
"Shh...everything's alright. I don't know whether to hug you or skin you
alive for that act you pulled out there on the racecourse. I suppose Lady
Ariane's fit to be tied...but the only thing that matters is that you're back and
you're safe." He reached up, fingers cupping her cheek then drifting over to
sweep the strands of hair from her face. "I've forgotten how beautiful you are
when you're mad a me," he murmured, shifting slightly.
"And who says I'm mad at you?" she countered, helping him sit up. He
raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That certain twitch of your mouth," he replied,
touching the offending dimple gently. "We have to promise to always be honest
with each other, Serena - always ." She stifled a sigh. 'does he suspect
something? Suspect that I had something to do with the events at the race
course and is testing me...?' she thought to herself, debating whether or not the
moment was right...for her confession.
"Darien," she caught his attention with seriousness of her tone, effectively
dampening the mood, "I, I have something I need to tell you." And to his credit,
his expression of patient indulgence didn't waver at her remark; he nodded, pulling
her in toward him until her head rested against his chest. "In the garden, after the
coronation dinner, you asked how I had created the wall, and I put the explanation
off until later - " she began, wiggling a bit as she settled down beside him. "And
the time is now?" he replied, hoping that no one would walk in and see them so
close together.
"Well, you said we had to be honest with each other," she teased gently.
"That I did." He winced slightly as her head brushed against his bandaged
shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice . "For as long as recordkeepers have kept
their records, the Goddess has granted special innate abilities to Her chosen, but
although these gifts are present from birth, they must be cultivated, developed, and
trained. It is the job of the Lady of Moonlight Keep to locate those whom the
Goddess has chosen and train us to our full potential." Darien nodded; all of this
was relatively common knowledge, at least among princes.
"She found me when I was no more than four or five and brought me to
the Keep. She and the other girls are the only family I can really remember...
but when I was about ten I began having these dreams, dreams of a handsome,
dark-haired man," She looked into his eyes, implications of the previous statement
clearly written across her face, "and Lady Ariane promised me that someday I'd
meet him. I think that's what kept me going throughout the years, her promise that
one day...I'd be with you."
Darien, at first surprised by her choice of words, leaned back against the
pillows, eyes half-closed in thought. "It's odd, the way you put that," he began.
"When I was six my parents were killed out on the desert sands, betrayed by
their own guards, and Ariane came to me in the dark of night. Kerri was there,
holding my hand protectively, but Arian pulled me away, away to the center of
the garden, and showed me...a conjure of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen
in my life, promised me that one day we'd be together." Again, his eyes gave him
away, proclaiming the identity of his elusive maiden. "From that day forth I looked
at every light-haired women who came to the Castle, ever hopeful that the promised
day had come...and then it did."
"Do you think?" Serena replied with a giggle. "Do you think that Lady
Ariane brought us together for a purpose?" Darien shook his head. "It's always
a possibility, but I prefer to think it's something beyond the desire of mere
mortals, Ladies of Moonlight or not - your Goddess, perhaps?" She stiffened
at his implication of divine intervention. "I, I don't know...we don't presume to
know the Goddess's intentions...but there is ~something~, isn't there?" she
responded, afterthought softening her initial response.
"I've learned a lot since I came to Crystal Castle, Ariane's taught me
well. The night of the coronation I had no idea what I was doing; I acted out
of instinct. Today, my actions were purposeful, and no longer can I use
innocence to plead my case..." and in whispered tones she described how she
had used her powers during the race. "...I didn't mean to kill, I never meant
to take a life. Lady Ariane's going to disown me for sure when she finds out...
oh!" She was sobbing now, soaking Darien's sheets while he tried to comfort
her.
"And how do you know Ariane's going to find out?" he implored,
indirectly adding his support for her actions. Serena was taken aback, both by
his observation and the fact that he didn't appear to be mad at her. "Wh-what
do you mean?" He grinned, that cocky self-assured smirk that had won her
heart. "Well, you keep moaning and groaning about how the world is going
to come to an end because Ariane's going to disown you, but how's she going
to find out that you -unintentionally- killed a man (who was, in the mean time,
intent on killing me) in the first place?" She blinked, absorbing his words. "I
don't know, I guess you have a point...but itstilldoesn'tmattershe'sgoingtokillme."
Darien shook his head, able to spot a hopeless case a mile away.
"Come, Serena," he cooed, rubbing her back with his good arm. "Don't be
upset. I'm so proud of you for what you did today...does it really matter what
my cranky, old Godmother thinks anyway? What she doesn't know can't
hurt her, right?" And Serena, blinking away her tears, blew her nose on the
edge of Darien's sheets. "Oh, you're right...you always are."
*end of Chapter 6*
- - - - - - - - - -
Are you ready for the next chapter? Ooh, I am ;) - but it's not written
yet. Remember, patience is a virtue. Anyhow, school is scheduled to
begin soon, so (baring any major blizzards or like occurrence) there will
probably be slightly longer time lapses between forthcoming chapters.
Sorry for the inconvenience, but real life beckons, and I've no choice but
to follow.
- Mir 12.27.00
.