Plot Bunnie. Ok, I know I really shouldn't be doing this, but I am jumping ahead of myself. It was three-ish Wednesday night,...or Thursday morning, whatever you want to think, and I must have typed this. I cant remember writhing it, but I found it on my private locked folder. Annnyyy way, I must have just had one too many pixy stix. It should also be noted that it is another of my very Shakespeare-ie creations. It is just a short (very short) thought sequence of Danric Dearest about Mel, (and when he says Mel, it should be noted that Vidanric is really talking about me, :), while he is in petitioner's court, then a little follow-up in his room. I thought it was sweet, and it is a chapter in my story, except we wont get to it for a while. I really really wanted to know what you guys thought of it, so I went ahead and posted it. PLEEEEESSSSEEEE! Review!!! I need the help!!

I let out a sigh full of loneliness, longing, and all of the other emotions I feel at this moment mixed together. A miserable concoction. I put my hand to my forehead, massaging my temple. My head aches with thoughts of Meliara. She fills my head, disturbs my senses, weakens my emotions. She is in my every waking thought, and every dream that fills my head as I sleep. My head and heart are going to burst for want of Mel.

I don't want to be in court, listing to problems of those who come to me for help. I want to be with her, walking through the gardens; or racing through the rain with her; seeing her lean forward over her horse, urging it faster. Or talking with her. Or even in my own room in the royal wing, thinking about her, or reading her last letter to the Unknown. I felt my heart shudder when I remembered that it was to he, the Unknown, she was writing to every night, not me. I wish that I were anywhere but here court, if I could only see her.

I love her.

The problem with that is, I don't know if she returns the feeling. This love is much, much more than one simple sensation. It is a rush of thousands of emotions overtaking me at once, so that I feel as if I am walking on air, or flying. Wonderful, beautiful feelings about a wonderful, beautiful girl.

I wish I knew what she felt.

We aren't even friends, I thought bitterly. She refuses to even look at me, and she has so much that she could say. Our correspondence through letters is excellent proof. We tell each other everything through them, and Mel doesn't even know who she is talking to. If her letters to me ever stopped coming, I don't know what I would do. Still, letters will never stop the ache of not being near her, in her presence.

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Later:

I gaze into the fire, glowing red and then orange and yellow, the flames licking at the brick of the chimney. My chamber in the Royal Wing is small, but I prefer it that way. There is just enough room here for a four- poster bed, a writing desk, and an easy chair by the fireplace. I am sitting in the easy chair. I have Meliara's latest letter in my hand. I have been sitting here for over an hour, hunting through her flowing handwriting for the smallest clue, the tiniest hint that she has feelings for me. It would make my life so much easier if she did.

I gave it up as a fruitless effort. I knew she hated me, and that I had no hope left in me, no matter what Russav said. She would always hate me. But at least I had the illusion. Until I decided to risk my heart, my reason for life, in telling her I loved her, I always had the Unknown. I could make-believe, or pretend. Pretend that I was the Unknown, someone she could talk to, could confide in, after a fashion. When I picked up my pen, I shed all of my hurt, my anguish, at every time she avoided me, every time I held a party and she "Respectfully Declined my Invitation."

Once I had written my reply, I called my manservant to deliver it to her quarters. As I was drifting off into sleep, I remembered something. I walked across to my writhing desk, pulled open a drawer, and took out a block of wood concealing a secret compartment. Here was where I kept all her letters she had ever sent me, from the very first letter to the Unknown, to every last Refusal to my Invitations. The thing I wanted was sitting on top, where I could always see it. A ring, with golden laurel leaves echoed around it, and an Ekerith that was so dark it looked black. I picked it up, and put it on my littlest finger, wondering what had ran through her mind when she sent it to me.

I fell asleep that night with my ring-hand cradled against my cheek.

AN: What do you think?? I think it was sweet. OH, and I forgot the disclaimer!! Ok, Smith is God. The characters are hers. I'm just having fun with them. And the last line I stole from the book. I was trying to create some parallel, like, Danric and Mel were more alike than either of them knew, or still know. And the readers keep remembering that when Danric thinks of Mel, he really means me. Just remember. Now, click that little button on the bottom of the screen, and REVIW!! I'LL GIVE YOU GOLD!! See Ya!

Oh, yeah, and I'm going to my grandparent's house for, like, a week, so while I'll be able to read all your reviews, I don't know my way around their computer very well, (PC's yech!) and I wont be able to update. Have fun!!

Black Rose(25)