AN/ Okie dokie, here's another one, just to alleviate a little of the guilt
I've been feeling for leaving you guys for so long. This one's a bit
better, though still boring, but the ball's coming next, so something
interesting has got to happen there, right? Right. ^_^ Oh, and I'll try my
best to catch up on all the stories I haven't reviewed in so long, all you
great authors know who you are, but it will probably take me a while. . .
There is some Old Tongue in this chapter, but I'm too lazy to translate it. Instead, it will be italic (if it shows up) and within ~ ~.
Chapter Eleven – Sunrises and Roses
Back at the castle, Folken and Estrela had spent the remainder of the evening chatting and joking about nothing in particular, simply enjoying one another's company while the sounds of celebrating filled the air. Neither one had paid much attention to the moons moving across the cloudless sky until the horizon over the garden wall began to turn a dark rose and the stars slowly began to fade. Folken was lying almost flat on his back, with only his head propped up slightly against the root of a tree. Estrela lay perpendicular to him, her pale head resting on his stomach while his fingers wove through her long bangs. He was telling her a story of Merle, Van's catgirl companion, whom Estrela had met a few days after arriving at the palace when she was tackled from above as she turned a corner and had to chase the little bugger down through half the castle to get her glasses back. Apparently, the kitten had gotten stuck between two spindles of a balcony and a piece of the railing actually had to be removed to get her out. Estrela could feel Folken's lean muscles move beneath her face as he laughed at the memory and she turned her head to look up at him, a joyous smile on her face. Then she noticed the lightening sky between the tree branches above his head,
"Folken, it's almost dawn," She said. The prince swiveled his head around as much as his position would allow and looked behind him,
"Wonder of wonders. . ." He murmured, then turned back to face the woman beside him, "Come on," He started, "I want to show you something," Removing his fingers from her hair, Folken allowed Estrela to sit up, then followed in suite, standing and helping her to her feet behind him. The prince began to walk quickly toward the doors leading back into the castle, and Estrela followed.
"Where are we going?" She asked finally as they all but ran up another hallway,
"You'll see," The prince replied mysteriously, "Hurry," Finally, after climbing a few flights of stairs and rushing through twisting corridors, Folken lead Estrela to the top floor of the palace and out onto a small balcony. He then proceeded to climb over the rail, gripping the outside wall of the castle,
"What are you doing?!" Estrela cried as every bit of the prince left the floor and he was completely suspended from the smooth blue tile overhanging from the roof.
"Just come on," He replied, swinging one long leg over and up onto the tiles and pulling himself up. Estrela was still very confused, but she'd be damned if she was going to leave Folken alone to fall and kill himself. Not bothering with the wall, Estrela jumped directly from the balcony to the roof edge, pulling herself up onto the tiles with one motion. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, but the eastern sky above the mist- topped mountains had been painted an incredible wash of pinks and oranges, golden yellows and deep crimson. It was utterly breathtaking.
"Estrela," Folken whispered, placing a hand gently on her arm to break her trance, "Come here, this is nothing yet. . ." Estrela allowed herself to be lead to the highest peak of the roof and followed Folken down onto the tile as he sat. "Now," The prince murmured, shifting closer, "Watch." For a moment nothing happened, then a shaft of light broke over the mountains, a needle of golden flame piercing the lightening sky. More thorns of sun followed, then the slight curve of the slowly rising orb. Rays of light were beginning to slice across the landscape, turning the mountains from a hazy violet to sharp golden brown, shining across grassy fields, and shadowed treetops, leaves now orange and red from the arrival of autumn, then finally snaking their way across the roofs of the city's buildings, the indigo tile of the castle roof glistening like a huge gem. Folken heard Estrela's sudden intake of breath and tore his gaze away from the incredible sight before him to glance at the, to his mind, completely surpassing beauty beside him. Folken gripped the tiles beneath him, feeling them cut sharply into his fingers, though not enough to draw blood, trying to keep hold on what self-control he had left. Her ebony eyes were wide, unblinking, and gleaming with undisguised wonder. Her lips, oh Gods above, her lips, parted ever so slightly, coloured a soft, rosy hue in the growing light, wracked with small trembles in time with the rise an fall of her breathing as a light breeze shifted loose strands of hair across her brow. It was the perfect moment, where time's touch seemed to release, and it felt as if you could stay this complete forever. One of those silent moments of unequivocal bliss, of a happiness and a wholeness you never imagined you could feel. Folken felt enshrouded in such a moment and his hand began rise toward Estrela's face without a thought. Then, a moment before his fingertips would graze her soft cheek, the prince hesitated, his hand paused, his fingers faltered, until he finally squeezed them back into a fist, withdrawing his arm and silently cursing his cowardice. The magical moment was gone, replaced by feelings of embarrassment and failure. I'm useless. . .
Estrela was completely oblivious to the distress of her companion, still fully engrossed and in awed by the now half risen sun. Folken dropped his eyes to his knees, unable to look at the woman beside him. Then he felt something warm grasp his hand, which lay clenched on the roof tile. Looking down, the prince saw Estrela's slender hand laying atop his fist and felt his cheeks flush as he relaxed his fingers to intertwine with hers.
There, was that so hard? The increasingly irritating voice in Estrela's mind began. She had been so afraid to reach out, then when she had felt his hand stiffen under hers she was sure she had gone too far. She was about to pull away when he had loosened, grasping her fingers in return. Estrela was sure her heart was soaring, and she slid closer to the prince, not quite daring enough to move her eyes away from the horizon just yet. One more. . . With their upper arms now touching, Estrela tilted her head to the side, resting it lightly on Folken's shoulder. Estrela steeled herself, and darted her eyes toward his chest. His breathing looked uneven, sharp and rapid.
"Folken," Estrela said, and despite her gentle tone the prince startled, "What's wrong?" Folken glanced down, one ebony eye peering up at him, and colored. By the gods, she was so close. . . Pull yourself together! A voice muttered sharply in his mind, She's just a woman, not a blasted *dragon!* Right, pulling together.
"Nothing's wrong," Folken responded quickly, then lifted their clasped hands up from the roof and placed them on his knee. Space now free, the prince scooted over until the sides of their hips and legs as well as their arms were pressed against the others and his cheek rested on Estrela's hair. There, very good. Oh hush up, He shot back at that far too patronizing voice. Gods, she even smelled beautiful. . .
That mood lasted all of a moment before, "Lord Folken!" A cry from within the palace below them jolted them both back to reality, "Lord Folken where are you?!" Damn, damn, damn.
"Now who could that be. . ." Folken groaned sarcastically, lifting his head and letting go of Estrela's hand very reluctantly. Carefully, so as not to lose his precarious footing, the prince stood, pausing to balance for a moment before reaching to pull Estrela up behind him. To his surprise she was already on her way up, standing with none of the unease or wobbles he himself was struggling with. The roof had become slippery with the light morning frost, if he had been thinking Folken would have gotten them back inside before it had really set in. But here they were, with the voice below coming steadily closer. They *had* to get back inside before they were found up here. Folken had neglected to mention that he was not exactly allowed on the roof, at least not in the winter when the cold made it treacherous, as it was now. If anyone spotted him up here . . . He would never here the end of it, especially with his mother.
"Come on," He said, trying to keep his balance as his foot slid slightly down the tile, "Give me your hand. It's slippery now, I'll help you down." Folken raised his head as he heard a small snort of laughter. Estrela had the back of her hand held to her mouth, trying and failing to stifle the giggles that were quickly escaping.
"You," She managed to choke out, "Want to help me down?" She began laughing harder then before, "You're barely keeping yourself standing, let alone helping someone else off this roof. Here, let me help *you*." She took a quick step forward, grasping Folken's wrist and waist with her arms and slinging his arm over her shoulder. Before Folken knew what had happened they were off the roof, standing side by side on the balcony they had entered by. Folken blinked rapidly, sending a confused glance in Estrela's direction as she brushed off her skirt, but when she noticed she simply shrugged. Before the prince could comment however, the cry which had first disturbed their solitude cut through the air once more,
"Lord Folken!" Straightening his tunic and vest, the prince cleared his throat and called out,
"Yes, I'm right here!" There was a surprised noise from within the halls before them, then a scuffling of footsteps and a crash. A muffled curse and more scuffling followed. Estrela looked at Folken, he seemed to be making no move to go inside the castle itself, content to lean against the balcony railing, fiddling with the tie of his tunic.
"What are you doing now?" She asked, dumbfounded,
"We can't make it too easy for them to find me," The prince explained easily, "It's my Mother's doing, she's far too protective. She has the entire palace staff on guard for me all the time, as you can clearly hear I can't even have a full evening to myself before they start looking for me." He motioned to the doorway leading into the castle, where the footsteps were coming steadily and rapidly closer, "They should be here . . ." The prince began once again, ". . . Now." He finished just as a page ran by the door, slid to a halt, and dashed back to the doorway. The boy was breathing heavily and was covered in a light dusting of pottery shards. The crash must have been him, Estrela thought idly.
"Lord Folken," The boy wheezed, bowing his head, "The Queen bade we find you before morning, my prince" Folken gave the boy a slightly sardonic grin,
"I bet she did . . ." He murmured, too quietly for the page to hear, but just loud enough for Estrela to catch. Then he turned to her, one eyebrow raised and hands spread in a gesture of defeat, "She means well, really." Attention back to the boy now, "You may tell the Queen that I am well and back in the castle. The lady Estrela and I were just going for an early breakfast." The prince glanced at Estrela sharply, and, after a brief moment to grasp the hint, she smiled at the page and nodded. The boy seemed far too tired to argue or question, and bowed quickly before taking his leave of the pair. When his now dragging footsteps had faded, Estrela turned to Folken, one hand on her hip and dark eyes squinted ever so slightly. She seemed to consider something about the prince before her, then shook her head and with a smile said,
"I believe you spoke of breakfast?" Folken responded with a good-natured chuckle, standing from his slouch against the balcony rail and offering an arm to Estrela,
"Of course, m'lady," He said with a flourish of his free hand, "Although we may have to wake the cooks . . ."
It was today. Weeks of waiting, and it was finally today. Estrela could not remember ever being so nervous. The ball was today.
"A royal delegation from Asturia is arriving today as well," Folken had told her early that morning, "Their king, Aston, his three daughters, and some of his court." Estrela remembered clearly the wiry grin which had overtook the prince's face as he continued, "I've met all but the youngest girl before, a few years ago. The oldest, Marlene, is my age, and a bit of priss, very princess-like, very proper. She was quite depressing too, wouldn't come out of her rooms, for whatever reason, I can't even remember now. The other one, Eries, was more down-to-earth, though awfully stoic, at least she wasn't as prim, and remarkably bright. About four years younger, and had almost caught up to me in books read. And not just the poetry and romantic drivel they force on most girls, but solid novels. It was fantastic to have someone to talk to about my books, especially the science texts, since no one here, until you came of course, had shown any interest in them." Folken had then voiced hope that the youngest girl, Millerna, who was Van's age, turned out to be just as bright, if not a tad happier than her middle sister, "If she gets Marlene's personality, and Eries' intellect, the girl could be an incredible ruler, of whatever country she married into."
Estrela had been sitting across a window ledge in a hallway, back against the frame and legs bent up on the base, whittling a small chunk of wood into a dragon shape for Van, when she had met the first princess. The tiny one, Millerna, came shooting around a corner, frills and lace flying behind her as she sped up the hall. A passing glance at Estrela, who raised her glass-covered eyes, was all it took for the young girl to skid to an abrupt halt, and approach the older woman carefully.
"Hello there," Estrela said, pausing her carvings but not leaving her seat,
"What are you doing?" Bright blue eyes glittering with curiosity, golden hair falling out of its elaborate ribbons, cheeks flushed from her run, the girl was very peculiar looking. Human colouring was still so odd to Estrela, all the different shades of skin, hair, and even eyes. Every Cisne ever know looked exactly like Matriz, the Mother, with "hair of alabaster, flesh like golden honey, and eyes darker than the depths of night" Or so the legends said. Humans and beast people seemed to have no such distinction, and their complexions were so varied it was sometimes overwhelming. Estrela regarded the girl before her with interest, thankful she had thought to wear her glasses today.
"I am carving," She replied, holding the lump of wood up for the girl's inspection. The princess eyed the object with interest, then shifted her gaze back to Estrela,
"What's your name?" Estrela smiled, the girl was certainly inquisitive,
"Estrela," She answered, "Estrela das Sombra. And I believe you are the Princess Millerna, from Asturia." The young girl gave a small smile and a curtsy. Estrela took this as an affirmative and continued, "Pleased to meet you, your Majesty, but may I ask, is it Asturian custom to allow young princesses to run about strange castles unattended, or are those footsteps I hear coming down toward us the guardians you were running from not a moment ago?" The girl blanched as she raised head in the direction from which she had come, sapphire eyes widening and smile quickly dropping. Then the girl was off again, barreling away down the corridor in the opposite direction of the approaching people. Estrela couldn't help but smile at the retreating form of the young princess as she raised her knife once again to meet the wood in her hand. The window beside her was opened a crack, allowing Estrela to brush the shavings outside, which is what she was doing as a mob of four handmaidens and one very disgruntled-looking steward turned into the hallway from the direction from which the princess had appeared shortly before and continued their gasping scurry. They passed, then halted as the steward turned back to face Estrela, face coloured the strangest crimson hue. He puffed for a moment, seeming to collect himself, then spoke,
"You there girl," He wheezed, tone still disconcertingly arrogant, "Have you seen a young girl run by here, in a pink dress?"
"About this tall?" Estrela asked, lowering her hand to just about the height of the sill she was lounging on, "With curly blond hair and huge blue eyes?"
"Yes!" The man replied tersely, "Which way did she go?" Estrela smiled sweetly, she could tell this man was very, very pompous, just from his scornful tone, as if it lowered his status to speak with one such as her. It was laughable.
"I didn't say I had seen her," Estrela responded, smile growing into a grin at the bulging of the steward's eyes. He had not expected this,
"Now see here--"
"Estrela!" It was Folken, come dashing up the hall, "Estrela," He said again as he approached her, paying no heed to the handmaidens, or to the steward, who now looked a bit deflated, "Have you seen a young girl anywhere around here? The Asturians seem to have lost their youngest princess,"
"She went that way," Estrela replied, pointing down the corridor with her blade, "Then turned left. That was just a short time ago, so she shouldn't be far. Do you want my help?" Folken smiled,
"No, thank you. I think I've got it. And shouldn't you be getting ready? The ball is tonight, and it's just about midday now --"
"I was just about to go start," She interrupted kindly, tucking her dagger back in her belt, and brushing her shirt off once again, "You go find the girl," Folken smiled again as Estrela swung her legs off the window ledge,
"Alright, I'll see you later then," He said, then seemed to take notice of the small crowd beside them, "Hello," He addressed them with a small bow, "If you'll all forgive me," And then he was off down the hall. Estrela looked at the steward once again, his face had gone from an almost purple shade of red to quite pale as he stared openmouthed at the girl he had been sure was merely a servant a moment before, and who, as it turned out, was on very familiar terms with the crown prince of this country. The maids were simply giggling quietly behind him.
"I too must beg your pardon," Estrela began, standing completely and pocketing the small wooden carving in a pouch at her belt, "As the prince said, the Harvest Ball is tonight, and I must prepare," She gave a small bow, much like the prince had a moment before, "Sir, Ladies," And then she was gone as well.
The steward was speechless.
"Sit still, m'lady, please!" Another itch on Estrela's nose caused her to twitch again, and all of the hair piled on the right side of her head fell back onto her shoulders. A string of oaths followed from the maid who was trying to form some style with Estrela's lengthy and unruly locks. The girl had without doubt never worked with Cisne hair before, and its different texture from a human's seemed to be causing her problems. They had been trying to do anything with it for over to two glass now, and Estrela was becoming perturbed,
"Let me alone!" She cried finally, snapping the maid's hands away and standing quickly, "I'll do it myself, thank you for trying," Then she disappeared into the small privy adjoining her bedchamber, which the maids had invaded several glass earlier. A short time later she emerged, alabaster mane pulled back from her face by two thin braids, which then met behind her head and merged into a single long plate. The remainder of her hair was mostly loose, falling far down her back, with the exception of a few small braids interspersed throughout. The result was surprisingly elegant, though still keep an edge of rawness, unlike the perfectly sculpted quaffs which had become so popular among the upper class. Estrela loved it.
Ignoring the disapproving looks she received from the maids, Estrela padded across the room to her wardrobe, the doors opening with the slightest squeak. Inside, aside from her ordinary belongings, hanging and lying neatly in the armoire, was her dress, her grey boots, and the small pearl comb. He maids had already done her make-up, a powdery rouge for her cheeks, and a paste to redden her lips. She refused to even try the pallid powder meant to lighten her skin, insisting it would either make her look ill, or like a porcelain doll, and neither one of these was favorable in Estrela's opinion. She still had no idea what to do about her eyes, she would have to wear her glasses, and that would prove very inappropriate, but necessary she knew. Ordinarily, Estrela would have dismissed the maids before even thinking about getting undressed, however under these circumstances, and considering that she had absolutely no chance of getting the dress on properly without at least a little assistance, she set her jaw firmly and turned back to the bed with the gown in hand. Spreading it neatly on the quilt, Estrela quickly began undoing the buttons of her shirt, trying to get it off before the maids could react and try to help her. Unfortunately, the girls had been trained very well, and were over to her before she had two of the fasteners undone. Oblivious to Estrela's protests, the maids had her standing in only her small clothes in mere moments. The gasp Estrela expected followed, as the women caught sight of her scars, but the oldest of the maids hushed them quickly and proceeded to help the mortified Estrela into the dress.
Tugging her long gloves up over her elbows, Estrela was faced with her final dilemma; her eyes. Would the maids let her leave without taking off her glasses? She thought not. She knew she had to, however, and the girls would just have to deal with it, or get out of her way. She tried her best to sneak out of the rooms while the maids were tidying up, and despite the unaccustomed bulk of the skirt she managed to make it out into the sitting room without their notice. She was a step away from the door, her freedom, when she noticed a small package lying on her favorite chair, a large wingback, with a seat wide enough for two people, if they were good friends. The package was about as wide as her two palms, and about three fingers thick. The box itself was simple, made of brown paper, but was tied with a ribbon of teal silk and a single wild rose of garnet red. It reminded Estrela of Folken's hair and eyes . . . Undoing the bow and setting the flower aside, Estrela lifted the lid to discover a folded note atop a bundle of more silk. Opening the paper, Estrela's eyes scanned the words, written in a flowing hand of red ink. It was in the Old Tongue as well, and she felt her eyes widen.
~Estrela,
Although it seems a crime to cover such beauty, I knew you would be in a dilemma. I may have forgotten to mention that masks are worn to the Harvest Ball, so I had this one specially made. I apologize that I am not able to escort you personally, princely duties, but I'm sure you will find your companion acceptable. Save me a dance?
Yours,
Folken~
Estrela was very surprised, but smiled as she pulled the silk away, revealing what appeared to be a half-mask covered in more grey silk, painted with small white flowers down either side. It matched her dress so perfectly that Estrela had a sneaking suspicion the prince had peeked around in her closet. She lifted the mask from the box and brought it to her face. It was solid, but soft on her skin, and didn't quite fit. Lowering it once more, Estrela remembered her glasses, removed them from her face, then tried the disguise again. Wonderful.
Tying the ribbon fasteners behind her head to secure the guise, Estrela popped her head back into her bedroom, glancing quickly at herself in the long mirror. Her eyes were shadowed enough by the mask that they simply looked very dark, but human. It was superb. She flew back into the sitting room, grabbing Folken's rose and the ribbon as she passed, tucking the flower behind her left ear and fastening the ribbon around her ankle just above her left boot. What she was going to do with the cloth escaped her, but she felt more comfortable with it for some reason. All this was done just as a knock came at the door. Estrela moved toward it, and reached out to turn the knob. She had never worn such long, soft gloves before, and the feeling was odd. Her smile grew wider as Estrela pulled open the heavy door, revealing her apparent escort for the evening.
AN/ Alright, here's a story for all of you who care. It has nothing to do with Open Road, just a little of what has happened to me while I was away. Last Monday, the 6th of May I believe it was, I was playing lacrosse. Now, I'm not extremely sporty, but I'm really good at a good few, and average at many. Lacrosse is not one of my best. My left ankle, which is bad anyway, having been broken and sprained before, was kicked quite hard during the game and twisted under me. Luckily, I caught myself before I fell or this story could have been much worse. It hurt, quite a lot, so I sat down and got some ice for it. I was pretty sure it wasn't broken. At the urging of my friends, and to the horror of my Phys.Ed teacher, I said I wouldn't sign out and go home, but rather I'd just, and I quote "Walk it off." I'm an idiot. The incident happened at about 9:50am, I went to two more classes, up and down countless flights of stairs, before noon, at which point I went home where my mother commented on my limping, "What did you do now?" I was then taken to the hospital, against my will, and waited for about four hours until it was discovered that I had sprained my ankle once again, and would have to wear an air cast (or godforsaken huge plastic space boot thing) for two weeks. Goodie. I have now been dubbed "Gimpy" or "Duck Foot" and been asked to quack on several occasions. Great, really. Bye everybody. Pray for my sanity.
There is some Old Tongue in this chapter, but I'm too lazy to translate it. Instead, it will be italic (if it shows up) and within ~ ~.
Chapter Eleven – Sunrises and Roses
Back at the castle, Folken and Estrela had spent the remainder of the evening chatting and joking about nothing in particular, simply enjoying one another's company while the sounds of celebrating filled the air. Neither one had paid much attention to the moons moving across the cloudless sky until the horizon over the garden wall began to turn a dark rose and the stars slowly began to fade. Folken was lying almost flat on his back, with only his head propped up slightly against the root of a tree. Estrela lay perpendicular to him, her pale head resting on his stomach while his fingers wove through her long bangs. He was telling her a story of Merle, Van's catgirl companion, whom Estrela had met a few days after arriving at the palace when she was tackled from above as she turned a corner and had to chase the little bugger down through half the castle to get her glasses back. Apparently, the kitten had gotten stuck between two spindles of a balcony and a piece of the railing actually had to be removed to get her out. Estrela could feel Folken's lean muscles move beneath her face as he laughed at the memory and she turned her head to look up at him, a joyous smile on her face. Then she noticed the lightening sky between the tree branches above his head,
"Folken, it's almost dawn," She said. The prince swiveled his head around as much as his position would allow and looked behind him,
"Wonder of wonders. . ." He murmured, then turned back to face the woman beside him, "Come on," He started, "I want to show you something," Removing his fingers from her hair, Folken allowed Estrela to sit up, then followed in suite, standing and helping her to her feet behind him. The prince began to walk quickly toward the doors leading back into the castle, and Estrela followed.
"Where are we going?" She asked finally as they all but ran up another hallway,
"You'll see," The prince replied mysteriously, "Hurry," Finally, after climbing a few flights of stairs and rushing through twisting corridors, Folken lead Estrela to the top floor of the palace and out onto a small balcony. He then proceeded to climb over the rail, gripping the outside wall of the castle,
"What are you doing?!" Estrela cried as every bit of the prince left the floor and he was completely suspended from the smooth blue tile overhanging from the roof.
"Just come on," He replied, swinging one long leg over and up onto the tiles and pulling himself up. Estrela was still very confused, but she'd be damned if she was going to leave Folken alone to fall and kill himself. Not bothering with the wall, Estrela jumped directly from the balcony to the roof edge, pulling herself up onto the tiles with one motion. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, but the eastern sky above the mist- topped mountains had been painted an incredible wash of pinks and oranges, golden yellows and deep crimson. It was utterly breathtaking.
"Estrela," Folken whispered, placing a hand gently on her arm to break her trance, "Come here, this is nothing yet. . ." Estrela allowed herself to be lead to the highest peak of the roof and followed Folken down onto the tile as he sat. "Now," The prince murmured, shifting closer, "Watch." For a moment nothing happened, then a shaft of light broke over the mountains, a needle of golden flame piercing the lightening sky. More thorns of sun followed, then the slight curve of the slowly rising orb. Rays of light were beginning to slice across the landscape, turning the mountains from a hazy violet to sharp golden brown, shining across grassy fields, and shadowed treetops, leaves now orange and red from the arrival of autumn, then finally snaking their way across the roofs of the city's buildings, the indigo tile of the castle roof glistening like a huge gem. Folken heard Estrela's sudden intake of breath and tore his gaze away from the incredible sight before him to glance at the, to his mind, completely surpassing beauty beside him. Folken gripped the tiles beneath him, feeling them cut sharply into his fingers, though not enough to draw blood, trying to keep hold on what self-control he had left. Her ebony eyes were wide, unblinking, and gleaming with undisguised wonder. Her lips, oh Gods above, her lips, parted ever so slightly, coloured a soft, rosy hue in the growing light, wracked with small trembles in time with the rise an fall of her breathing as a light breeze shifted loose strands of hair across her brow. It was the perfect moment, where time's touch seemed to release, and it felt as if you could stay this complete forever. One of those silent moments of unequivocal bliss, of a happiness and a wholeness you never imagined you could feel. Folken felt enshrouded in such a moment and his hand began rise toward Estrela's face without a thought. Then, a moment before his fingertips would graze her soft cheek, the prince hesitated, his hand paused, his fingers faltered, until he finally squeezed them back into a fist, withdrawing his arm and silently cursing his cowardice. The magical moment was gone, replaced by feelings of embarrassment and failure. I'm useless. . .
Estrela was completely oblivious to the distress of her companion, still fully engrossed and in awed by the now half risen sun. Folken dropped his eyes to his knees, unable to look at the woman beside him. Then he felt something warm grasp his hand, which lay clenched on the roof tile. Looking down, the prince saw Estrela's slender hand laying atop his fist and felt his cheeks flush as he relaxed his fingers to intertwine with hers.
There, was that so hard? The increasingly irritating voice in Estrela's mind began. She had been so afraid to reach out, then when she had felt his hand stiffen under hers she was sure she had gone too far. She was about to pull away when he had loosened, grasping her fingers in return. Estrela was sure her heart was soaring, and she slid closer to the prince, not quite daring enough to move her eyes away from the horizon just yet. One more. . . With their upper arms now touching, Estrela tilted her head to the side, resting it lightly on Folken's shoulder. Estrela steeled herself, and darted her eyes toward his chest. His breathing looked uneven, sharp and rapid.
"Folken," Estrela said, and despite her gentle tone the prince startled, "What's wrong?" Folken glanced down, one ebony eye peering up at him, and colored. By the gods, she was so close. . . Pull yourself together! A voice muttered sharply in his mind, She's just a woman, not a blasted *dragon!* Right, pulling together.
"Nothing's wrong," Folken responded quickly, then lifted their clasped hands up from the roof and placed them on his knee. Space now free, the prince scooted over until the sides of their hips and legs as well as their arms were pressed against the others and his cheek rested on Estrela's hair. There, very good. Oh hush up, He shot back at that far too patronizing voice. Gods, she even smelled beautiful. . .
That mood lasted all of a moment before, "Lord Folken!" A cry from within the palace below them jolted them both back to reality, "Lord Folken where are you?!" Damn, damn, damn.
"Now who could that be. . ." Folken groaned sarcastically, lifting his head and letting go of Estrela's hand very reluctantly. Carefully, so as not to lose his precarious footing, the prince stood, pausing to balance for a moment before reaching to pull Estrela up behind him. To his surprise she was already on her way up, standing with none of the unease or wobbles he himself was struggling with. The roof had become slippery with the light morning frost, if he had been thinking Folken would have gotten them back inside before it had really set in. But here they were, with the voice below coming steadily closer. They *had* to get back inside before they were found up here. Folken had neglected to mention that he was not exactly allowed on the roof, at least not in the winter when the cold made it treacherous, as it was now. If anyone spotted him up here . . . He would never here the end of it, especially with his mother.
"Come on," He said, trying to keep his balance as his foot slid slightly down the tile, "Give me your hand. It's slippery now, I'll help you down." Folken raised his head as he heard a small snort of laughter. Estrela had the back of her hand held to her mouth, trying and failing to stifle the giggles that were quickly escaping.
"You," She managed to choke out, "Want to help me down?" She began laughing harder then before, "You're barely keeping yourself standing, let alone helping someone else off this roof. Here, let me help *you*." She took a quick step forward, grasping Folken's wrist and waist with her arms and slinging his arm over her shoulder. Before Folken knew what had happened they were off the roof, standing side by side on the balcony they had entered by. Folken blinked rapidly, sending a confused glance in Estrela's direction as she brushed off her skirt, but when she noticed she simply shrugged. Before the prince could comment however, the cry which had first disturbed their solitude cut through the air once more,
"Lord Folken!" Straightening his tunic and vest, the prince cleared his throat and called out,
"Yes, I'm right here!" There was a surprised noise from within the halls before them, then a scuffling of footsteps and a crash. A muffled curse and more scuffling followed. Estrela looked at Folken, he seemed to be making no move to go inside the castle itself, content to lean against the balcony railing, fiddling with the tie of his tunic.
"What are you doing now?" She asked, dumbfounded,
"We can't make it too easy for them to find me," The prince explained easily, "It's my Mother's doing, she's far too protective. She has the entire palace staff on guard for me all the time, as you can clearly hear I can't even have a full evening to myself before they start looking for me." He motioned to the doorway leading into the castle, where the footsteps were coming steadily and rapidly closer, "They should be here . . ." The prince began once again, ". . . Now." He finished just as a page ran by the door, slid to a halt, and dashed back to the doorway. The boy was breathing heavily and was covered in a light dusting of pottery shards. The crash must have been him, Estrela thought idly.
"Lord Folken," The boy wheezed, bowing his head, "The Queen bade we find you before morning, my prince" Folken gave the boy a slightly sardonic grin,
"I bet she did . . ." He murmured, too quietly for the page to hear, but just loud enough for Estrela to catch. Then he turned to her, one eyebrow raised and hands spread in a gesture of defeat, "She means well, really." Attention back to the boy now, "You may tell the Queen that I am well and back in the castle. The lady Estrela and I were just going for an early breakfast." The prince glanced at Estrela sharply, and, after a brief moment to grasp the hint, she smiled at the page and nodded. The boy seemed far too tired to argue or question, and bowed quickly before taking his leave of the pair. When his now dragging footsteps had faded, Estrela turned to Folken, one hand on her hip and dark eyes squinted ever so slightly. She seemed to consider something about the prince before her, then shook her head and with a smile said,
"I believe you spoke of breakfast?" Folken responded with a good-natured chuckle, standing from his slouch against the balcony rail and offering an arm to Estrela,
"Of course, m'lady," He said with a flourish of his free hand, "Although we may have to wake the cooks . . ."
It was today. Weeks of waiting, and it was finally today. Estrela could not remember ever being so nervous. The ball was today.
"A royal delegation from Asturia is arriving today as well," Folken had told her early that morning, "Their king, Aston, his three daughters, and some of his court." Estrela remembered clearly the wiry grin which had overtook the prince's face as he continued, "I've met all but the youngest girl before, a few years ago. The oldest, Marlene, is my age, and a bit of priss, very princess-like, very proper. She was quite depressing too, wouldn't come out of her rooms, for whatever reason, I can't even remember now. The other one, Eries, was more down-to-earth, though awfully stoic, at least she wasn't as prim, and remarkably bright. About four years younger, and had almost caught up to me in books read. And not just the poetry and romantic drivel they force on most girls, but solid novels. It was fantastic to have someone to talk to about my books, especially the science texts, since no one here, until you came of course, had shown any interest in them." Folken had then voiced hope that the youngest girl, Millerna, who was Van's age, turned out to be just as bright, if not a tad happier than her middle sister, "If she gets Marlene's personality, and Eries' intellect, the girl could be an incredible ruler, of whatever country she married into."
Estrela had been sitting across a window ledge in a hallway, back against the frame and legs bent up on the base, whittling a small chunk of wood into a dragon shape for Van, when she had met the first princess. The tiny one, Millerna, came shooting around a corner, frills and lace flying behind her as she sped up the hall. A passing glance at Estrela, who raised her glass-covered eyes, was all it took for the young girl to skid to an abrupt halt, and approach the older woman carefully.
"Hello there," Estrela said, pausing her carvings but not leaving her seat,
"What are you doing?" Bright blue eyes glittering with curiosity, golden hair falling out of its elaborate ribbons, cheeks flushed from her run, the girl was very peculiar looking. Human colouring was still so odd to Estrela, all the different shades of skin, hair, and even eyes. Every Cisne ever know looked exactly like Matriz, the Mother, with "hair of alabaster, flesh like golden honey, and eyes darker than the depths of night" Or so the legends said. Humans and beast people seemed to have no such distinction, and their complexions were so varied it was sometimes overwhelming. Estrela regarded the girl before her with interest, thankful she had thought to wear her glasses today.
"I am carving," She replied, holding the lump of wood up for the girl's inspection. The princess eyed the object with interest, then shifted her gaze back to Estrela,
"What's your name?" Estrela smiled, the girl was certainly inquisitive,
"Estrela," She answered, "Estrela das Sombra. And I believe you are the Princess Millerna, from Asturia." The young girl gave a small smile and a curtsy. Estrela took this as an affirmative and continued, "Pleased to meet you, your Majesty, but may I ask, is it Asturian custom to allow young princesses to run about strange castles unattended, or are those footsteps I hear coming down toward us the guardians you were running from not a moment ago?" The girl blanched as she raised head in the direction from which she had come, sapphire eyes widening and smile quickly dropping. Then the girl was off again, barreling away down the corridor in the opposite direction of the approaching people. Estrela couldn't help but smile at the retreating form of the young princess as she raised her knife once again to meet the wood in her hand. The window beside her was opened a crack, allowing Estrela to brush the shavings outside, which is what she was doing as a mob of four handmaidens and one very disgruntled-looking steward turned into the hallway from the direction from which the princess had appeared shortly before and continued their gasping scurry. They passed, then halted as the steward turned back to face Estrela, face coloured the strangest crimson hue. He puffed for a moment, seeming to collect himself, then spoke,
"You there girl," He wheezed, tone still disconcertingly arrogant, "Have you seen a young girl run by here, in a pink dress?"
"About this tall?" Estrela asked, lowering her hand to just about the height of the sill she was lounging on, "With curly blond hair and huge blue eyes?"
"Yes!" The man replied tersely, "Which way did she go?" Estrela smiled sweetly, she could tell this man was very, very pompous, just from his scornful tone, as if it lowered his status to speak with one such as her. It was laughable.
"I didn't say I had seen her," Estrela responded, smile growing into a grin at the bulging of the steward's eyes. He had not expected this,
"Now see here--"
"Estrela!" It was Folken, come dashing up the hall, "Estrela," He said again as he approached her, paying no heed to the handmaidens, or to the steward, who now looked a bit deflated, "Have you seen a young girl anywhere around here? The Asturians seem to have lost their youngest princess,"
"She went that way," Estrela replied, pointing down the corridor with her blade, "Then turned left. That was just a short time ago, so she shouldn't be far. Do you want my help?" Folken smiled,
"No, thank you. I think I've got it. And shouldn't you be getting ready? The ball is tonight, and it's just about midday now --"
"I was just about to go start," She interrupted kindly, tucking her dagger back in her belt, and brushing her shirt off once again, "You go find the girl," Folken smiled again as Estrela swung her legs off the window ledge,
"Alright, I'll see you later then," He said, then seemed to take notice of the small crowd beside them, "Hello," He addressed them with a small bow, "If you'll all forgive me," And then he was off down the hall. Estrela looked at the steward once again, his face had gone from an almost purple shade of red to quite pale as he stared openmouthed at the girl he had been sure was merely a servant a moment before, and who, as it turned out, was on very familiar terms with the crown prince of this country. The maids were simply giggling quietly behind him.
"I too must beg your pardon," Estrela began, standing completely and pocketing the small wooden carving in a pouch at her belt, "As the prince said, the Harvest Ball is tonight, and I must prepare," She gave a small bow, much like the prince had a moment before, "Sir, Ladies," And then she was gone as well.
The steward was speechless.
"Sit still, m'lady, please!" Another itch on Estrela's nose caused her to twitch again, and all of the hair piled on the right side of her head fell back onto her shoulders. A string of oaths followed from the maid who was trying to form some style with Estrela's lengthy and unruly locks. The girl had without doubt never worked with Cisne hair before, and its different texture from a human's seemed to be causing her problems. They had been trying to do anything with it for over to two glass now, and Estrela was becoming perturbed,
"Let me alone!" She cried finally, snapping the maid's hands away and standing quickly, "I'll do it myself, thank you for trying," Then she disappeared into the small privy adjoining her bedchamber, which the maids had invaded several glass earlier. A short time later she emerged, alabaster mane pulled back from her face by two thin braids, which then met behind her head and merged into a single long plate. The remainder of her hair was mostly loose, falling far down her back, with the exception of a few small braids interspersed throughout. The result was surprisingly elegant, though still keep an edge of rawness, unlike the perfectly sculpted quaffs which had become so popular among the upper class. Estrela loved it.
Ignoring the disapproving looks she received from the maids, Estrela padded across the room to her wardrobe, the doors opening with the slightest squeak. Inside, aside from her ordinary belongings, hanging and lying neatly in the armoire, was her dress, her grey boots, and the small pearl comb. He maids had already done her make-up, a powdery rouge for her cheeks, and a paste to redden her lips. She refused to even try the pallid powder meant to lighten her skin, insisting it would either make her look ill, or like a porcelain doll, and neither one of these was favorable in Estrela's opinion. She still had no idea what to do about her eyes, she would have to wear her glasses, and that would prove very inappropriate, but necessary she knew. Ordinarily, Estrela would have dismissed the maids before even thinking about getting undressed, however under these circumstances, and considering that she had absolutely no chance of getting the dress on properly without at least a little assistance, she set her jaw firmly and turned back to the bed with the gown in hand. Spreading it neatly on the quilt, Estrela quickly began undoing the buttons of her shirt, trying to get it off before the maids could react and try to help her. Unfortunately, the girls had been trained very well, and were over to her before she had two of the fasteners undone. Oblivious to Estrela's protests, the maids had her standing in only her small clothes in mere moments. The gasp Estrela expected followed, as the women caught sight of her scars, but the oldest of the maids hushed them quickly and proceeded to help the mortified Estrela into the dress.
Tugging her long gloves up over her elbows, Estrela was faced with her final dilemma; her eyes. Would the maids let her leave without taking off her glasses? She thought not. She knew she had to, however, and the girls would just have to deal with it, or get out of her way. She tried her best to sneak out of the rooms while the maids were tidying up, and despite the unaccustomed bulk of the skirt she managed to make it out into the sitting room without their notice. She was a step away from the door, her freedom, when she noticed a small package lying on her favorite chair, a large wingback, with a seat wide enough for two people, if they were good friends. The package was about as wide as her two palms, and about three fingers thick. The box itself was simple, made of brown paper, but was tied with a ribbon of teal silk and a single wild rose of garnet red. It reminded Estrela of Folken's hair and eyes . . . Undoing the bow and setting the flower aside, Estrela lifted the lid to discover a folded note atop a bundle of more silk. Opening the paper, Estrela's eyes scanned the words, written in a flowing hand of red ink. It was in the Old Tongue as well, and she felt her eyes widen.
~Estrela,
Although it seems a crime to cover such beauty, I knew you would be in a dilemma. I may have forgotten to mention that masks are worn to the Harvest Ball, so I had this one specially made. I apologize that I am not able to escort you personally, princely duties, but I'm sure you will find your companion acceptable. Save me a dance?
Yours,
Folken~
Estrela was very surprised, but smiled as she pulled the silk away, revealing what appeared to be a half-mask covered in more grey silk, painted with small white flowers down either side. It matched her dress so perfectly that Estrela had a sneaking suspicion the prince had peeked around in her closet. She lifted the mask from the box and brought it to her face. It was solid, but soft on her skin, and didn't quite fit. Lowering it once more, Estrela remembered her glasses, removed them from her face, then tried the disguise again. Wonderful.
Tying the ribbon fasteners behind her head to secure the guise, Estrela popped her head back into her bedroom, glancing quickly at herself in the long mirror. Her eyes were shadowed enough by the mask that they simply looked very dark, but human. It was superb. She flew back into the sitting room, grabbing Folken's rose and the ribbon as she passed, tucking the flower behind her left ear and fastening the ribbon around her ankle just above her left boot. What she was going to do with the cloth escaped her, but she felt more comfortable with it for some reason. All this was done just as a knock came at the door. Estrela moved toward it, and reached out to turn the knob. She had never worn such long, soft gloves before, and the feeling was odd. Her smile grew wider as Estrela pulled open the heavy door, revealing her apparent escort for the evening.
AN/ Alright, here's a story for all of you who care. It has nothing to do with Open Road, just a little of what has happened to me while I was away. Last Monday, the 6th of May I believe it was, I was playing lacrosse. Now, I'm not extremely sporty, but I'm really good at a good few, and average at many. Lacrosse is not one of my best. My left ankle, which is bad anyway, having been broken and sprained before, was kicked quite hard during the game and twisted under me. Luckily, I caught myself before I fell or this story could have been much worse. It hurt, quite a lot, so I sat down and got some ice for it. I was pretty sure it wasn't broken. At the urging of my friends, and to the horror of my Phys.Ed teacher, I said I wouldn't sign out and go home, but rather I'd just, and I quote "Walk it off." I'm an idiot. The incident happened at about 9:50am, I went to two more classes, up and down countless flights of stairs, before noon, at which point I went home where my mother commented on my limping, "What did you do now?" I was then taken to the hospital, against my will, and waited for about four hours until it was discovered that I had sprained my ankle once again, and would have to wear an air cast (or godforsaken huge plastic space boot thing) for two weeks. Goodie. I have now been dubbed "Gimpy" or "Duck Foot" and been asked to quack on several occasions. Great, really. Bye everybody. Pray for my sanity.