Authoress's Note: Sorry to take so long, guys! But I'm back now, and I won't write a loooooooooooooong a note (at least not as long as usual!)
Thanx to: Nathronoelei (I don't know much about Wiccan...what is the significance of Maiden, Mother, and Crone?), Zel the Stampede (I hope you're still here! lol), Mary F. Sunshine (I'm in love with her husband, too), AquariusDragon (You'll see what happened to him), and Michi Yuy (I'm planning on posting the original version after I'm done with the story, like I did with "Gretchen, a.k.a. Rapunzel")
Thank you, reviewers! Everyone please review, cuz the more reviews I get, the more incentive it is to post more! So pllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! Gracias!
Peace and love in the meantime!
~Jenny the chica~
Chapter Eighteen: In which all is not lost...
When Celia was left alone again, she allowed a few more tears from her dry eyes. She hadn't counted on this at all. But she would still get to her husband. There was still time and a chance to get to him.
For right now, however, Celia felt exhausted. She had hardly slept at all during the night, weeping almost the entire time, and she had to sleep. Still weeping bitterly, Celia nourished her hope and slept while she waited.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Celia slept for quite a few hours, but woke about as refreshed as she could be around noon. She scrambled up, dug around in her saddlebags for a little while, then pulled out the golden carding comb.
Celia walked over to under the same window where she had sat before. It took even less time for the princess to come out and ask her what she wanted. A conversation nearly identical to the previous one followed, and ended the same as well. Celia prayed that it would work this time, doubts filling her, but she clung to hope.
As she walked back to the slightly wooded area that had been serving as her shelter, she felt a sharp jolt in her middle.
She looked down, her heart skipping a beat in fear that something was wrong with the baby. The jolt could be felt again, but Celia realized what it was. She had been able to feel faint movements for a while, but she had never been sure of what they were. This time there was not the slightest doubt in her mind. The baby-her baby was kicking.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Celia found it hard to fall asleep for a much-needed nap, but she finally did so. Her body welcomed the rest, and she knew that she had to be prepared for tonight. A fear skittered across her mind. What if he can't wake up again tonight? I only have one last chance after this!
Lest she hyperventilate, Celia rationalized with herself that nothing was wrong and that it would all work out fine.
Nonetheless, Celia was still shaking from the former night, in regret and sorrow. She could not figure out what had happened to him, but suspected the princess highly. One thing was certain: she would clearly be more difficult to outsmart than Celia had thought before.
After she finished shaking, Celia collected herself and walked back to the main house, straight to the kitchen to once again beg for dinner. The cooks, who said that they were prisoners, were, thankfully, human, and took pity on poor Celia.
Celia sat near the fireplace, out of sight of the trolls who occasionally passed through. She looked out the window from time to time, and when she saw that the sun was beginning to set, she got up, thanked the cooks, and went to find the princess.
When she did, Celia was led directly to the room, taking hardly any time. She smiled at the princess as she unlocked the door, then waited until she was out of sight down the hall before entering into the room. The room was very dark, so Celia reached for a nearby box of matches and lit the sparse candelabras around the room.
Eyes squeezed shut in hope, Celia slowly turned around, dreading the possibility that it might be just like the night before. As she opened her eyes, she saw him in the bed again, moved in a different position, but still frighteningly still.
Celia was not stupid. But she had been tricked again. She slid onto the bed and wept.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
After Celia saw that her tears weren't helping anything, especially not her, her husband, and most certainly not their child, she dried her eyes and tried to find help. She tried the door, but it was locked, so she knocked softly on each wall of the bedroom, to see if it was hollow or something.
She was nearing the end of the fourth and final wall, glimpsing her hopes rapidly drifting away, when a voice was heard behind the wall.
Celia prayed that it was human, and one willing to help.
"Hello? Is someone there?" she whispered.
"Yes. Who are you?"
"The prince's wife. Who are you?"
"A friend. I am another prisoner here, but I know your husband. We've talked often through these walls."
Celia nearly collapsed with relief. Thankfully, she only leaned more on the wall, and continued, "Can you help us? My husband-something is wrong with him, I think. I think that the troll princess did something to prevent us from talking or anything. Do you know anything more?"
"Yes, I believe I do. He said something about feeling funny after last night, and-"
"You mean that he was awake this morning?"
"Yes, of course. Just after dawn, I believe."
Celia groaned and felt her eyes brim with hot tears.
The voice, Celia was sure that it belonged to a man, went on, "The princess came in before dusk yesterday and today, and they talked briefly, but I couldn't hear. What I did do, however, is tell the prince that there was someone in here weeping quite loudly all night."
"You could hear me?" Celia asked sheepishly.
The man laughed softly. "We couldn't hear much else last night. But when I told him, he commanded me to tell him all I knew about the voice. He sounded worried, excited, and frightened all at the same time. I could not tell him anything more, however."
"Can you tell him tomorrow that I-his wife-was here? Please?"
"That I can. I'm sure that he will be very relieved to know how you are. He would often tell me about you and how wonderful his life was, before he had to come here. I loved listening to him tell about it, it put the rest of us here in such joy."
Celia began to weep again at this remark, feeling awful, but she still had a few things to ask of the man, so she swallowed and retrieved her voice. "I need to ask you a few things. Does the prince ever leave his room, at all?"
"Never, milady."
"Good. How often does the princess or his stepmother come to see him?"
"Twice a day. They come together in the morning, then the princess returns just before dusk."
"All right. The moment he wakes up, try to get him over here to talk to him. I wish that I could leave him a note of sorts, but there is no paper here. Anyway, tell him to watch out for any spells, sleeping powders, drinks, anything. I believe that it's some sort of potion or powder, but I'm not positive. Tell him to be on his guard and that I will be here tomorrow night as well."
"I will, milady. Now you had best get some sleep, for I don't believe that you got much of it last night."
Celia smiled. "No, I don't believe that I did."
Thanx to: Nathronoelei (I don't know much about Wiccan...what is the significance of Maiden, Mother, and Crone?), Zel the Stampede (I hope you're still here! lol), Mary F. Sunshine (I'm in love with her husband, too), AquariusDragon (You'll see what happened to him), and Michi Yuy (I'm planning on posting the original version after I'm done with the story, like I did with "Gretchen, a.k.a. Rapunzel")
Thank you, reviewers! Everyone please review, cuz the more reviews I get, the more incentive it is to post more! So pllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease! Gracias!
Peace and love in the meantime!
~Jenny the chica~
Chapter Eighteen: In which all is not lost...
When Celia was left alone again, she allowed a few more tears from her dry eyes. She hadn't counted on this at all. But she would still get to her husband. There was still time and a chance to get to him.
For right now, however, Celia felt exhausted. She had hardly slept at all during the night, weeping almost the entire time, and she had to sleep. Still weeping bitterly, Celia nourished her hope and slept while she waited.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Celia slept for quite a few hours, but woke about as refreshed as she could be around noon. She scrambled up, dug around in her saddlebags for a little while, then pulled out the golden carding comb.
Celia walked over to under the same window where she had sat before. It took even less time for the princess to come out and ask her what she wanted. A conversation nearly identical to the previous one followed, and ended the same as well. Celia prayed that it would work this time, doubts filling her, but she clung to hope.
As she walked back to the slightly wooded area that had been serving as her shelter, she felt a sharp jolt in her middle.
She looked down, her heart skipping a beat in fear that something was wrong with the baby. The jolt could be felt again, but Celia realized what it was. She had been able to feel faint movements for a while, but she had never been sure of what they were. This time there was not the slightest doubt in her mind. The baby-her baby was kicking.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Celia found it hard to fall asleep for a much-needed nap, but she finally did so. Her body welcomed the rest, and she knew that she had to be prepared for tonight. A fear skittered across her mind. What if he can't wake up again tonight? I only have one last chance after this!
Lest she hyperventilate, Celia rationalized with herself that nothing was wrong and that it would all work out fine.
Nonetheless, Celia was still shaking from the former night, in regret and sorrow. She could not figure out what had happened to him, but suspected the princess highly. One thing was certain: she would clearly be more difficult to outsmart than Celia had thought before.
After she finished shaking, Celia collected herself and walked back to the main house, straight to the kitchen to once again beg for dinner. The cooks, who said that they were prisoners, were, thankfully, human, and took pity on poor Celia.
Celia sat near the fireplace, out of sight of the trolls who occasionally passed through. She looked out the window from time to time, and when she saw that the sun was beginning to set, she got up, thanked the cooks, and went to find the princess.
When she did, Celia was led directly to the room, taking hardly any time. She smiled at the princess as she unlocked the door, then waited until she was out of sight down the hall before entering into the room. The room was very dark, so Celia reached for a nearby box of matches and lit the sparse candelabras around the room.
Eyes squeezed shut in hope, Celia slowly turned around, dreading the possibility that it might be just like the night before. As she opened her eyes, she saw him in the bed again, moved in a different position, but still frighteningly still.
Celia was not stupid. But she had been tricked again. She slid onto the bed and wept.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
After Celia saw that her tears weren't helping anything, especially not her, her husband, and most certainly not their child, she dried her eyes and tried to find help. She tried the door, but it was locked, so she knocked softly on each wall of the bedroom, to see if it was hollow or something.
She was nearing the end of the fourth and final wall, glimpsing her hopes rapidly drifting away, when a voice was heard behind the wall.
Celia prayed that it was human, and one willing to help.
"Hello? Is someone there?" she whispered.
"Yes. Who are you?"
"The prince's wife. Who are you?"
"A friend. I am another prisoner here, but I know your husband. We've talked often through these walls."
Celia nearly collapsed with relief. Thankfully, she only leaned more on the wall, and continued, "Can you help us? My husband-something is wrong with him, I think. I think that the troll princess did something to prevent us from talking or anything. Do you know anything more?"
"Yes, I believe I do. He said something about feeling funny after last night, and-"
"You mean that he was awake this morning?"
"Yes, of course. Just after dawn, I believe."
Celia groaned and felt her eyes brim with hot tears.
The voice, Celia was sure that it belonged to a man, went on, "The princess came in before dusk yesterday and today, and they talked briefly, but I couldn't hear. What I did do, however, is tell the prince that there was someone in here weeping quite loudly all night."
"You could hear me?" Celia asked sheepishly.
The man laughed softly. "We couldn't hear much else last night. But when I told him, he commanded me to tell him all I knew about the voice. He sounded worried, excited, and frightened all at the same time. I could not tell him anything more, however."
"Can you tell him tomorrow that I-his wife-was here? Please?"
"That I can. I'm sure that he will be very relieved to know how you are. He would often tell me about you and how wonderful his life was, before he had to come here. I loved listening to him tell about it, it put the rest of us here in such joy."
Celia began to weep again at this remark, feeling awful, but she still had a few things to ask of the man, so she swallowed and retrieved her voice. "I need to ask you a few things. Does the prince ever leave his room, at all?"
"Never, milady."
"Good. How often does the princess or his stepmother come to see him?"
"Twice a day. They come together in the morning, then the princess returns just before dusk."
"All right. The moment he wakes up, try to get him over here to talk to him. I wish that I could leave him a note of sorts, but there is no paper here. Anyway, tell him to watch out for any spells, sleeping powders, drinks, anything. I believe that it's some sort of potion or powder, but I'm not positive. Tell him to be on his guard and that I will be here tomorrow night as well."
"I will, milady. Now you had best get some sleep, for I don't believe that you got much of it last night."
Celia smiled. "No, I don't believe that I did."