AN/ Hullo All! I'm BACK!! Yeah! *crickets*. . . *cough* Anyway, this is chapter four, very roughly edited, very boring to write/edit. I'll try to get the next one out sooner, but no promises.*^_^* Oh, major thank-you's go out to all of my four reviewers, I love you guys, really. In fact, this chapter is dedicated to all you guys, dragons*shadow, M. Silvermane, Iya, and Lola, Hi Guys! Well, that's all for now, so Enjoy!
~Gabe~
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne, its characters, settings etc, but I do own Estrela das Sombra and the Cisne. I also don't own The Rankin Family or their song, The River, nor do I own Rawlins Cross, or their song, Wild Rose. So there *blows rasberry*
Chapter Four - Nightmares and Memories
Estrela collapsed onto the down-filled mattress. The bed was huge, with royal blue sheets and a comforter embroidered with the
Royal Fanelian crest. The room itself was a good size, with the large bed against one wall, a small dark stained cherry wood desk,
two plush navy armchairs and a large armoire against another. There were two large windows facing eastward, their blue drapes
drawn closed, with a small stone fireplace between them, and a dark wooden door opposite which lead into a small bathroom.
Estrela rose from the comfort of the bed, walking over to the windows and pulling the long curtains open to reveal a breathtaking
view of the kingdom below. The soft light of the twin moons reflected off the white stone walls of the buildings and the
cobblestone of the streets, contrasting with the gloom of the shadows and bathing everything in an eerie blue glow.
Pulling her eyes away from the window, Estrela made her way towards the bathroom, and let out a sigh of pleasure as she saw what
was inside. A tiny room in white and yellow tile, with a small privy, a low porcelain sink below a large mirror, but most
importantly, in the middle of the room, a large, white bath tub, filled just over halfway with steaming water. Bless the speed of
servants. . . She thought as she unfastened her cloak, its dark colour failing to mask the mud and road dust caked to it. She hung the
garment on one of the little hooks along one of the walls, and proceeded to untie the laces of her jerkin, removing the multitude of
throwing knives hidden within and placing them gently on the floor, before hanging the supple leather vest on the wall beside her
cloak, followed in turn by her sword and belt. Slipping her once white shirt over her head, Estrela examined its many small tears
and stains before throwing it into an untidy pile in one corner of the room, soon joined by her dark green breeches, and remaining
boot. She had retrieved its twin from General Balgus, but had left it sitting next to her bed before she had come in here.
Unstrapping the daggers from around her calves, Estrela placed them on the pile of soiled clothing, and made her way toward the
awaiting bath. Testing the water with a hand, Estrela determined that it was still very warm, but had slowly begun to cool from the
torrid pool it had been when she had first entered. Easing into the welcoming water, Estrela felt the tension in her muscles release
almost immediately, and soon felt her eyelids flutter shut.
She was back in her village, a small group of cottages in the middle of a large clearing, surrounded by deep forest on all sides. She
was happy, running and playing with her brothers and sisters, but then the men came. Tall men, with dark hair and frightening
eyes, filled with hate and anger. Fire! The village was burning, her home. . .The screams, her sisters, blood, flames, screams. . .
Estrela sat bolt upright in the tub, a film of sweat popping on her furrowed brow. She had tried to forget, forget the pain, the fear.
Her sisters, flames. . . NO! She would not think of that again. It was over. She could not go back.
Reaching behind her, Estrela undid her long braid and dunked her head into the now room temperature water, plastering the
alabaster strands to her head and back. Reaching for the cake of fragrant soap on the side of the tub, Estrela scrubbed her hair until
she could no longer feel the sweat and dirt, and then poured the large jug of water beside the tub over her head, trying to remove all
of the lather from her long white tresses. When her hair was adequately rinsed, Estrela slung it over the back of the bath, creating a
rather large puddle on the tiled floor. Taking the soap in her hand once more, Estrela began to scrub her body, days of travel grime
turning the once clear water disgustingly murky.
"This is ridiculous," She grumbled, "I bathed the day before yesterday in that forest pond. I could not have gotten this dirty in two
days. . ." She huffed as she stood, gazing down at the grayish water with disdain. She reached for the large white towel on a shelf
beside the tub and stepped out of the water. Rubbing her hair fiercely with the cloth, then wrapping its soft material snugly around
her body, Estrela made her way out to the bedroom, pausing only once to retrieve her sword from its hook.
Estrela walked slowly over to the bed, noticing the nightgown and robe neatly laid out upon it. They must have brought them while
I was bathing, She thought as she looked at the light silk shift and soft terry robe. The gown was light green, sleeveless, with small
pink flowers embroidered around the neckline. The robe was a deep burgundy, with no decoration.
Letting the towel drop, Estrela slipped the gown over her head, ignoring the robe for the moment, and knelt to retrieve her small
pack where she had dropped it beside the door. Plopping into one of the large armchairs, Estrela lifted the pack's flap and loosened
the drawstrings, then shoved her hand into the depths of the bag. After rummaging around for a few moments, Estrela finally felt
what she was looking for. Removing the two bundles of cloth, she stood, placing the larger on her bed, and brought the smaller over
to the desk. Lowering herself into the other chair in front of the table, Estrela unwrapped the wad of cloth to reveal a brush and
mirror set made of ivory, with a flying dragon carved on the back of each, the brush's enameled in green, the mirror's in black. She
began to run the stiff bristles through her silky hair, no matter what happened, knots never seemed to tangle the strands, the brushing
was only to add shine. When she was done with the brush she re-braided her hair and tied it with a green ribbon from her pack,
examining her loose, chin length bangs in the small mirror. Carefully placing both the brush and mirror back into their protective
cloth, Estrela put the dark ball into her sack and climbed beneath the soft sheets of the bed. The larger package she had removed
from her bag was lying on the floor beside her, still unopened. She lay there for quite some time, staring up at the blank ceiling,
unable to sleep. Her mind was racing, memories from the past painfully surfacing, only to be fiercely pushed back into the recesses
of her mind before they could play out. Then, her mind turned to something completely unexpected. The handsome boy with the
kind smile and the laughing eyes. Whispered words in a moonlit hallway, his hand on her face, his pale hair glimmering in the soft
light, flopping over into his garnet eyes. . .
What was she thinking? No one would ever love her. . . She was a monster, one of the Soulless. Those demons who would suck
away men's spirits, with their evil dead eyes. . . No, she was imagining things. Folken was a nice person, he was just trying to be
kind, make her feel safe. That was different than having feelings for her. She wasn't even sure what she felt for him. Anyway, he
was a prince, destined to marry some high class lady or princess,
You seem more ladylike than most of the noble woman I've met. . . His words echoed through her mind. He was just trying to be
kind, she told herself again, but even her thoughts sounded hollow.
"Argh!" she muttered, turning over on the mattress so she could stare out of the large windows, the pair of moons just hovering
above the horizon. The sky was beginning to lighten and this astonished Estrela. How long have I been laying here? She thought,
eyes never leaving the horizon. It must be, oh, four glass in the morning, and I didn't sleep. . . She grunted as she threw back the
covers of the bed and swung her long legs over the side. The wooden floor was cold against her bare soles as she padded towards
the bathroom. Picking up her pack on the way, Estrela entered the small room, her dirty clothes still in a pile in the corner with her
knives laying atop them. After taking full use of the privy, Estrela approached the small sink filled with water and splashed her
tanned face. The liquid was numbingly cold against her flesh, causing her to gasp, but it woke her up. Patting herself dry with
another towel from the low shelf, Estrela picked up her pack and searched through it once again, this time pulling out only the
brush, and a clean change of clothing. She pulled on pair of loose black breeches, and a dark violet shirt with a square neck, her
best. It had no rips or stains, and the cuffs and neckline had a pattern of intricate knot work in silver thread. She quickly redid her
hair, this time tying the end with a black ribbon, and, using her soiled green breeches, tried her best to remove most of the mud from
her boots before slipping them on her feet and fastening her sword belt around her waist, though keeping the sheathed blade in her
hand. Before leaving the bathroom, she replaced several of her daggers, but, since she was not wearing her jerkin, she was forced to
leave some of them behind, only taking a few up her sleeves, in her boots, around her calves, and behind her belt. Leaving her bag,
her jerkin, her remaining daggers, her sword, and her cloak in the armoire, Estrela made her way toward the door leading to the
hallway, she picked up the large wrapped bundle she had removed from her pack the night before and headed out into the corridor
as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake anyone still asleep.
She paced lightly down the hall, boots making no sound against the hard wooden floors. She made a left as she came to an
intersection, hoping she remembered the way from last night, and sighed in relief as she came to the large doors which lead to the
quiet garden she had tried to sneak into the day before.
Bundle under one arm, Estrela slowly opened one of the massive door, wincing visibly when it creaked, and slipped out among the
beautiful flowers of the garden, eyes widening at the sheer beauty of the park in the dawn light.
Walking slowly down the narrow path, Estrela stopped before the huge fountain, the water still surging from the stone dragon's
gaping maw. Instead of taking a seat on the stone bench the Queen and her sons had shared the night before, Estrela knelt on the
hard cobbles of the walkway, back resting against the low wall of the fountain, and nimbly unwrapped the package in her hands,
folding the tan cloth neatly and setting it on the ground beside her.
The object now in her hands appeared to be a musical instrument, about the length of a man's hand and forearm, with eight strings
of various width running from a carved, rectangular piece of wood, down a long wooden neck, over a triangular hole in the body of
the thing to stop slightly below the hole at an ivory bridge. The body of the instrument itself was tear-shaped, made of light wood,
its front painted with swirls of colour, and many beautiful white birds with flowing tails. It was truly gorgeous to look upon.
But Estrela did not stop to gaze at its beauty for long. Closing her onyx eyes, Estrela's left hand moving to the neck of the
instrument, and her right beginning to pluck the strings above the hole. The sound which flowed from the object was lilting,
sounding almost like a harp, almost like a lute, but at the same time sounding like neither. A beautiful but eerie melody broke the
silence of the garden, pairing with the early morning light, and adding to the unusual feel of the place. Then a voice joined the
sound of the strings, soft and melodious, but seeming to fill the entire garden with a soothing aura. The song had never been heard
in Fanelia, and all whose ears it reached were filled with a sense of calm, even those asleep,
When you cross that river
The trees they will bow down
The sky will open up to you
The lark will sing your song
When you cross that river
The path will follow you
And the winds the will caress your lips
And the fires they'll burn strong
Until then. . .
The pastures seem greener on the other side
Alexander don't bide you time uneasily. . .
Estrela stopped her singing, her fingers frozen on the strings as a twig snapped near her. Ebony eyes snapped open, to reveal an
embarrassed looking Folken, halfway between sitting and standing in the grass beside the path. The twig which had given him away
lay broken under the toe of his left boot, and his face was growing increasingly redder as Estrela silently studied him.
"I am quite sorry if I startled you, my lady," He began, abandoning his plan to sit quietly in the grass, opting instead to move over
and sit on the fountain wall beside her. "I heard your music, and I had to see what being could make such a beautiful song. I did not
wish to disturb you."
"It is quite alright, my Prin. . .Folken, I hope I did not wake you," She glanced up at his siting form beside her. His eyes seemed to
study her, soaking her into their depths. She shifted her gaze back to the instruments in her arms, tracing the wing of a bird with one
slender finger. "I had trouble sleeping, and playing always soothes my mind. I am not very good unfortunately."
"My lady, I have never heard music so beautiful, you are truly incredible, and much too modest," She blushed furiously at that, and
he continued, "I am curious however, to what caused you trouble sleeping? Were your rooms unsatisfactory?" He sounded truly
concerned, which caused Estrela to flush a deeper shade of crimson, then pale at the thought of her nightmares.
"No, of course not Folken" She said quickly, "My rooms were wonderful, I have never slept in such luxury. It was nightmares,
memories. . ."She trailed off, her voice becoming lower as she spoke. Folken sensed something private, and hastily changed the
subject,
"What is that, if you don't mind me asking," He inquired, motioning to the instrument in her hands, "I have never seen anything like
it before, it is lovely." The last of his comment was made with his eyes locked with hers, and, though Estrela thought it impossible
at this point, her flush deepened even further. I'm probably purple. . . She thought bitterly
"It is called a Chall," She said, her accent deepening on the foreign word, "It is unique to my people I believe. They are not usually
so elaborately decorated. This one was a gift, a long time ago."
"From who, if I may be so bold?" Estrela swallowed, and then said quietly,
"My betrothed. . ." Folken's face dropped, hurt filling his dark eyes, but he quickly covered this with a forced smile and said as
brightly as he could manage,
"Well, it's beautiful, and whoever gave it to you is a lucky man." Folken made a move to stand, the pain in his chest becoming to
great for him to stay, but Estrela's soft voice restrained him,
"Lucky indeed. The betrothal ended when I was banished from my village, I was no longer Cisne, and thus could no longer marry a
Cisne." Her voice betrayed bitter feelings she thought she had shed. Folken knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but he
spoke up anyway. Ignoring the mention of banishment for a moment, he knelt beside her and asked softly,
"Did you love him?" She snorted, which startled him,
"Love? He was a chieftain's son, I had no choice in the matter. And had I gone through with it, I would have spent my entire life as
a chieftain's wife, dealing with the problems of all of the women in a village, stuck in a dark little cottage all day and night. No
independence, no adventure. I would be married now, to a man nearly twice my age, whom I would had never met until our
wedding." Her dark eyes were filled with unshed tears, a pain she had tried to forget.
She jumped as she felt arms around her shoulders, Folken pulling her towards him. She did not resist, instead she buried her face into his shoulder, soaking his dark blue shirt with bitter tears, her body shaking with the sobs she had promised never to release. Folken hugged her close to him, his hands rubbing her back gently as he rocked he back and forth. When she finally stopped her weeping, her face lifted to meet his own, tears still staining her cheeks, and quickly released herself from his hold, standing and picking up her chall from where she had dropped it.
"I am so sorry, my prince. That was stepping completely over my bounds. I apologize if I have offended you," Her voice sounded
embarrassed as she turned to flee the garden.
"Estrela," Folken said, his voice stopping her in her tracks. She turned to face him once again, but her eyes were focused on his
boots instead of his face. He gently took the chall from her hands and set it on the wall of the fountain. Then he took her hands in
his own, pulling her closer to him. She lifted her eyes to meet his as he began to speak,
"Estrela," He said again, this time just above a whisper, "Thank you for trusting me with that. Never be ashamed to show emotion,
it is what makes us alive. I will always be here, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I never want you to bottle those feelings up
inside yourself. They will drive you mad." He said this with such feeling and such sincerity in his voice, that Estrela fell into his
embrace once again,
"Thank you, Folken," She murmured into his chest, his arms so strong around her back.
"Come on then," He said after a moment, "The cooks should have something ready by now, we should go get some breakfast." He
smiled at her as she stepped away from him, a warm, friendly smile that made her grin back, wiping the tears still on her cheeks.
She retrieved her chall and quickly wrapped it in its cloth. Tucking the bundle under her arm, Estrela walked toward Folken,
expecting him to offer her his arm, but instead he placed his arm across her shoulders, bringing her close to him as they began to
walk. She was a bit self-conscience walking through the hallways looking so. . . friendly with the crown prince, but she soon
relaxed, even resting her head lightly on his shoulder. In the kitchen they found a loaf of bread, a piece of hard cheese, and several
varieties of fruit, with which they returned to the garden and ate together beneath the huge stone dragon.
After they were done eating, Estrela unwrapped her chall once more, and began a different tune than before. This one was cheery
and wild, where her earlier song had been slow and melodious. She began with a lighthearted melody, and then her gleeful voice
filled his ears,
Sunrise in the morning, birds singing on every tree
A greeting and a warning. The song they're singing is, Be Free
Young rambler on the roadside, All around the world he goes
Never knowing what he will find, In his quest for the great unknown
Wild rose in the forest
Wild rose on the moor
Dawn mist on the mountain
Combers crashing on the shore
We rejoin out hero, As he wanders from door to door
A heart full of legend, dreams of love on a foreign shore
Wild rose in the forest
Wild rose on the moor
Dawn mist on the mountain
Combers crashing on the shore
Wild rose in the forest
Wild rose on the moor
Dawn mist on the mountain
Combers crashing on the shore. . .
As the strings fell silent, Estrela looked at Folken and grinned, "So, what did you think?"
"That was. . . amazing" He had a small, very soft smile on his face, his eyes locked on hers,
"No, really?" She asked sheepishly,
"Really." He said, nodding his head for emphasis. Her grin widened as she looked down at the instrument in her hands, with its mulitcoloured swirls and elegant birds. Folken slid closer to her on the bench, his arm wrapping around her shoulders again, as he gazed around at the beauty of the flowers around them. His eyes shifted back to Estrela as she placed her head lightly on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He smiled again, a contented smile, as she shifted into a more comfortable position beside him.
AN II/ Okay, a bit mushy? No? Good, 'cause it's probably going to get worse, *^_~* Like I said before, very roughly edited, so if anything didn't make sense, just tell me. Thanks,
Peace out
~Gabe~