From the authoress: My goodness...it's been so long since I've read this...silly, isn't it? But, in posting, I've remembered how much I love this chapter...hmmm...maybe I'll go back now and give the chapters titles instead of "one" and "two" and so on...anyway, ignore my rambles, and read on! I hope you enjoy this as much as I still do...but, then again, I'm a hopeless romantic...does anyone have a tissue? ~Jenny the chica~ (ps~*sniff, sniff* don't forget to review! I hope you all...well, I already said that...enjoy...*Jenny starts bawling*)
Chapter Seven: In which we find true beauty...
Return to the stables seemed the best choice to Celia, and she did so, and in just enough time...almost. Camille had just gotten settled in the stable: unbridled, unsaddled, curried, brushed, and such when Celia heard the first sound of thunder. Camille, however, was very calm, and Celia was able to leave slowly and quietly without disturbing her peace.
The instant Celia stepped outside, it seemed as if the sky was pouring bucket after bucket of excess water on her. She ran as quickly as she could through the sodden gardens, now realizing that the huge step she had had an interesting encounter with earlier in the day had been built as protection from monsoons such as these.
Celia burst through the two front doors, dripping wet and muddy from halfway up her shins down. She didn't even notice the pond she seemed to be forming in the middle of the front walkway for a few moments. When she did, she hurriedly yanked off her shoes, then shrugged off her cloak. Shivering in the cold, she was surprised when she felt an invisible wind take her hand and lead her up to her room, draw a bath, and then leave, respectively. Grateful beyond words, Celia sank into the steamy water, her teeth still chattering.
After washing and getting warm again through a soft, fleecy towel and her fire, Celia got ready for dinner. She wasn't sure if the bear would join her or not, but she thought and hoped that he would, since the rain probably drove him inside as well.
Celia felt the mysterious wind again, and looked at her bed to see a dress laid out for her that had not been there before. She walked over to it, and was immediately filled with the memories of countless parties that she had attended while back at home. The dress was very much like the ones she would wear to them, only far better. It was nothing short of being worthy of...of a princess! It was made from white and gold fabric, a gold bodice and white skirt, although it was all sewn together, not two separate pieces of clothing. There were light, dark, shiny, and duller shades of gold, all clearly evident in the dress.
Celia picked the dress up and delicately pulled it over her head, then shrugged it into place. She felt it being tied up by one of the winds behind her, and she turned to look in the mirror. She was shocked at the reflection. Her hair had somehow been put up in many small braids, all piled up in a bun-like shape on the back of her head. The few leftover curls were set on the nape of her neck, as well as over her shoulder. The dress itself seemed exactly her size, and she truly felt like a princess.
Self-consciously, however, Celia put her hand to her throat, because it and the space above the bodice was perfectly bare. She felt a slight weight, though, and looked into her mirror once more to see a simple, yet very fine, gold chain, with a diamond teardrop hanging from its center.
'I wonder what is so special about tonight,' she wondered. 'One usually does not get this dressed up for dinner!'
Whatever was going on, Celia rather liked being treated like a princess, so she tried to refrain from acting like her normal, spontaneous self and desperately made an effort to remember and follow every single rule of etiquette that her mother had ever lectured her on.
Celia did so, and majestically floated slowly down the long, winding staircase to the dining room. To her astonishment, no one was there, and the room was dark.
'Well, that was a lot of hard work for nothing!' she immediately thought.
Thankfully, a gracious wind led her down a hallway that she had not been on before, and she soon saw a strong light when they turned one of the many bends in the hall. She was led into this room, which turned out to be an even larger, more ornate dining room than before! Celia was guided to the right-hand seat of the head of the table, and she was about to pull the seat out and sit when she heard a voice from the opposite end of the room from where she had entered say, "Please, allow me!"
She turned to see the bear, trotting up the behind her. He got up on his hind legs and clumsily, yet courteously, pulled her chair out, then pushed it back in when she had sat down. He did so as well, and the shared dinner began. Over floating courses, the two discussed even more things than they had that morning. In fact, few of the subjects mentioned in the morning were brought up again, and the conversation never lagged at all. After it was over, though it seemed much too soon for Celia, for it was still light outside-meals and such were done so early here!-the bear thanked her, and bid her a good night.
Celia echoed him, and slowly strode to her room. She thought about the things they had talked about, how mysterious everything was, with new mysteries popping up every day. The thing she wondered most about was why everything was so much earlier here than most places. Breakfast followed soon after dawn, but lunch usually ended around noon, and dinner was served strangely early, near four or five o'clock daily. Not to mention, everything that went on here ended abruptly at nightfall. The moment the sun disappeared, Celia had always found herself in her room, caught in the strange schedule of this house. She didn't really mind, for she had always been one who could easily adapt to change, it was just the secretive air here-that must have been what the house was throbbing with when she first entered it-that made one wonder so.
Having reached her room by now, Celia sat on her bed and looked out the window, watching the last few bits of yellow brilliance before the sun made her exit for today. The instant it disappeared, however, darkness strangely flooded the horizon. She had never watched it before here, and she could scarcely believe her eyes. The instant the sun had left, it was as if someone had blown out a candle.
Speaking of someone blowing out a candle, Celia had just taken in the sudden darkness outside when her curtain-ties suddenly untangled and allowed the curtains to drop, and a cold wind whistled through and extinguished her candle. Celia, sitting on the bed, stiffened in the sudden darkness, for she could not possibly relight her candle without her stolen box of matches.
A moment later, Celia heard the familiar sound of an opening door and soft footsteps. She sighed with relief when she felt from behind her two arms crossed over her. She leaned back, as if on instinct, and closed her eyes.
Celia finally broke the silence. "You know, it's terribly hard for one to see without one's box of matches. Do you not trust me at all?"
Celia felt his arms hold her closer. "Of course I trust you! It was just a move of protection."
"For you?"
"For us. Believe me, Celia. It would threaten and ruin everything if you-"
"I know. You already told me. I'm not a child. You don't have to feel inclined to repeat everything you say."
He chuckled against her ear. "I'm sorry. It's kind of hard to learn to trust someone, when you've been alone for so long..."
Celia felt sorry for him, again. She had suspected his loneliness last night, but kept silent on the subject. Her concerns, she now saw, had been well founded.
She leaned the top of her head against his cheek, for she could feel that he was taller than her. "No, I'm sorry. I have always been rather rash, and I don't always take others into account when I speak. Some would call it rude. Papa always called me 'spontaneous.' He used to..." Celia trailed off, the memories too painful to think back on just yet. She could feel the hot tears pouring into her eyes, and she could hardly stop them.
She lifted her hand to quickly wipe them away, but she wasn't quick enough. A movement and rustle of sheets behind her made her pause, and she felt the two arms untangle themselves from around her shoulders. She almost cried out to tell him not to leave, but then she felt two hands cup her cheeks, as her father had the day he returned with the terrible news.
For Celia at that moment, it was too much. She broke down into sobs. At first, the fingers of the hands tried to wipe them away, but they were two numerous and constant, so Celia felt her head being drawn and placed on a shoulder instead. Of course, this motion did not exactly ease the tears, though Celia was beginning to get fed up with herself and her actions. But every time she had nearly convinced herself to stop, she started up again. The whole time, though, he just held her, and gently rocked back and forth, which made her really feel like a child.
Thankfully, Celia finally ran out of tears to cry, and managed a weak laugh. She felt him pull her up gently from where they had been kneeling on the floor. Still in an emotionally weak state, Celia sat next to her husband on the bed, leaning on his shoulder.
Celia felt for a few moments that his hand was caught in her hair, but then she realized that he was graciously taking her hair down, so that she could sleep, and she did.
The next thing she recognized was the first gray peeps of daylight.
A/N: Well, I decided to name my chapters...a thing I've always avoided with a passion before...*sigh* See what these things do to me? Now go review...or else no more until...until...hmmm...February! dum, dum, DUM!!! Mwahahahahahahahaha...*gags for breath* (well, I just ruined the mood, now, didn't I? oh, well...)
Chapter Seven: In which we find true beauty...
Return to the stables seemed the best choice to Celia, and she did so, and in just enough time...almost. Camille had just gotten settled in the stable: unbridled, unsaddled, curried, brushed, and such when Celia heard the first sound of thunder. Camille, however, was very calm, and Celia was able to leave slowly and quietly without disturbing her peace.
The instant Celia stepped outside, it seemed as if the sky was pouring bucket after bucket of excess water on her. She ran as quickly as she could through the sodden gardens, now realizing that the huge step she had had an interesting encounter with earlier in the day had been built as protection from monsoons such as these.
Celia burst through the two front doors, dripping wet and muddy from halfway up her shins down. She didn't even notice the pond she seemed to be forming in the middle of the front walkway for a few moments. When she did, she hurriedly yanked off her shoes, then shrugged off her cloak. Shivering in the cold, she was surprised when she felt an invisible wind take her hand and lead her up to her room, draw a bath, and then leave, respectively. Grateful beyond words, Celia sank into the steamy water, her teeth still chattering.
After washing and getting warm again through a soft, fleecy towel and her fire, Celia got ready for dinner. She wasn't sure if the bear would join her or not, but she thought and hoped that he would, since the rain probably drove him inside as well.
Celia felt the mysterious wind again, and looked at her bed to see a dress laid out for her that had not been there before. She walked over to it, and was immediately filled with the memories of countless parties that she had attended while back at home. The dress was very much like the ones she would wear to them, only far better. It was nothing short of being worthy of...of a princess! It was made from white and gold fabric, a gold bodice and white skirt, although it was all sewn together, not two separate pieces of clothing. There were light, dark, shiny, and duller shades of gold, all clearly evident in the dress.
Celia picked the dress up and delicately pulled it over her head, then shrugged it into place. She felt it being tied up by one of the winds behind her, and she turned to look in the mirror. She was shocked at the reflection. Her hair had somehow been put up in many small braids, all piled up in a bun-like shape on the back of her head. The few leftover curls were set on the nape of her neck, as well as over her shoulder. The dress itself seemed exactly her size, and she truly felt like a princess.
Self-consciously, however, Celia put her hand to her throat, because it and the space above the bodice was perfectly bare. She felt a slight weight, though, and looked into her mirror once more to see a simple, yet very fine, gold chain, with a diamond teardrop hanging from its center.
'I wonder what is so special about tonight,' she wondered. 'One usually does not get this dressed up for dinner!'
Whatever was going on, Celia rather liked being treated like a princess, so she tried to refrain from acting like her normal, spontaneous self and desperately made an effort to remember and follow every single rule of etiquette that her mother had ever lectured her on.
Celia did so, and majestically floated slowly down the long, winding staircase to the dining room. To her astonishment, no one was there, and the room was dark.
'Well, that was a lot of hard work for nothing!' she immediately thought.
Thankfully, a gracious wind led her down a hallway that she had not been on before, and she soon saw a strong light when they turned one of the many bends in the hall. She was led into this room, which turned out to be an even larger, more ornate dining room than before! Celia was guided to the right-hand seat of the head of the table, and she was about to pull the seat out and sit when she heard a voice from the opposite end of the room from where she had entered say, "Please, allow me!"
She turned to see the bear, trotting up the behind her. He got up on his hind legs and clumsily, yet courteously, pulled her chair out, then pushed it back in when she had sat down. He did so as well, and the shared dinner began. Over floating courses, the two discussed even more things than they had that morning. In fact, few of the subjects mentioned in the morning were brought up again, and the conversation never lagged at all. After it was over, though it seemed much too soon for Celia, for it was still light outside-meals and such were done so early here!-the bear thanked her, and bid her a good night.
Celia echoed him, and slowly strode to her room. She thought about the things they had talked about, how mysterious everything was, with new mysteries popping up every day. The thing she wondered most about was why everything was so much earlier here than most places. Breakfast followed soon after dawn, but lunch usually ended around noon, and dinner was served strangely early, near four or five o'clock daily. Not to mention, everything that went on here ended abruptly at nightfall. The moment the sun disappeared, Celia had always found herself in her room, caught in the strange schedule of this house. She didn't really mind, for she had always been one who could easily adapt to change, it was just the secretive air here-that must have been what the house was throbbing with when she first entered it-that made one wonder so.
Having reached her room by now, Celia sat on her bed and looked out the window, watching the last few bits of yellow brilliance before the sun made her exit for today. The instant it disappeared, however, darkness strangely flooded the horizon. She had never watched it before here, and she could scarcely believe her eyes. The instant the sun had left, it was as if someone had blown out a candle.
Speaking of someone blowing out a candle, Celia had just taken in the sudden darkness outside when her curtain-ties suddenly untangled and allowed the curtains to drop, and a cold wind whistled through and extinguished her candle. Celia, sitting on the bed, stiffened in the sudden darkness, for she could not possibly relight her candle without her stolen box of matches.
A moment later, Celia heard the familiar sound of an opening door and soft footsteps. She sighed with relief when she felt from behind her two arms crossed over her. She leaned back, as if on instinct, and closed her eyes.
Celia finally broke the silence. "You know, it's terribly hard for one to see without one's box of matches. Do you not trust me at all?"
Celia felt his arms hold her closer. "Of course I trust you! It was just a move of protection."
"For you?"
"For us. Believe me, Celia. It would threaten and ruin everything if you-"
"I know. You already told me. I'm not a child. You don't have to feel inclined to repeat everything you say."
He chuckled against her ear. "I'm sorry. It's kind of hard to learn to trust someone, when you've been alone for so long..."
Celia felt sorry for him, again. She had suspected his loneliness last night, but kept silent on the subject. Her concerns, she now saw, had been well founded.
She leaned the top of her head against his cheek, for she could feel that he was taller than her. "No, I'm sorry. I have always been rather rash, and I don't always take others into account when I speak. Some would call it rude. Papa always called me 'spontaneous.' He used to..." Celia trailed off, the memories too painful to think back on just yet. She could feel the hot tears pouring into her eyes, and she could hardly stop them.
She lifted her hand to quickly wipe them away, but she wasn't quick enough. A movement and rustle of sheets behind her made her pause, and she felt the two arms untangle themselves from around her shoulders. She almost cried out to tell him not to leave, but then she felt two hands cup her cheeks, as her father had the day he returned with the terrible news.
For Celia at that moment, it was too much. She broke down into sobs. At first, the fingers of the hands tried to wipe them away, but they were two numerous and constant, so Celia felt her head being drawn and placed on a shoulder instead. Of course, this motion did not exactly ease the tears, though Celia was beginning to get fed up with herself and her actions. But every time she had nearly convinced herself to stop, she started up again. The whole time, though, he just held her, and gently rocked back and forth, which made her really feel like a child.
Thankfully, Celia finally ran out of tears to cry, and managed a weak laugh. She felt him pull her up gently from where they had been kneeling on the floor. Still in an emotionally weak state, Celia sat next to her husband on the bed, leaning on his shoulder.
Celia felt for a few moments that his hand was caught in her hair, but then she realized that he was graciously taking her hair down, so that she could sleep, and she did.
The next thing she recognized was the first gray peeps of daylight.
A/N: Well, I decided to name my chapters...a thing I've always avoided with a passion before...*sigh* See what these things do to me? Now go review...or else no more until...until...hmmm...February! dum, dum, DUM!!! Mwahahahahahahahaha...*gags for breath* (well, I just ruined the mood, now, didn't I? oh, well...)