Orsa Minore

by Capella A. Morningside

Author's Note: Read and review please! Thank you to Princess of Destiny (again!), WDR, and Avalon Estel for your kind reviews. (Princess of Destiny, I know about that little decree and my plan does work around it.)


Chapter II - Silenced

"Incredible misconduct. Outright rudeness, Lady Ceridwyn!"

"Yes, your Majesty." The blonde fought tears, hiding almost her entire face behind her fan as King Daphnes chastised her.

"In less civilized circles you would have been locked away; no, executed for such a crime!"

The Queen reached out, touching her husband's arm in a gentle manner. "I believe she has heard enough, my Lord. It really did no harm for her to hear this, even though it was very bad manners."

"But in the future," Sangethia deadpanned, "she should avoid hearing what is not meant for her ears."

Ceridwyn started a plea. "Priestess..."

"I do not care to hear what you have to say, Lady Ceridwyn," the old woman interrupted.

"Your Holiness, you don't understand, I..."

Sangethia's voice suddenly reached a volume no one had quite expected, causing everyone but the two Sheikah to hold their breath. "I understand far better than you think I do. I will talk to you later, but for now I advise you strongly to hold your tongue!"

The Priestess' last word echoed on the stone walls of the courtyard like the roar of some wild animal, and it took several moments for the atmosphere to calm and Sangethia's muscles to relax. The noblewoman's head hung low, steadily falling tears concealed by her fan.

"Your Highnesses," the elderly Priestess went on, "The Lady Ceridwyn must not remain here for the rest of our meet. It does not concern her, and I have matters to discuss with her once you have dismissed me."

King Daphnes, eyes closed and massaging his temples with his fingers, only gave her a nod and a gesture of approval.

Melek stepped forward. "I will escort the Lady back to her chambers, if that is what you wish, your Holiness."

"Yes, Melek. That would be fine." Sangethia paused, then added, "Take no detours."

The Sheikah took a quiet, upset Ceridwyn by the arm and led her out of the courtyard under his sister's wary and suspicious gaze. They went on for several minutes, neither of them uttering a word, through the gardens and up a rather dark stone staircase toward the particular tower she lived in. Ceridwyn's sapphire eyes watched the ground, not once attempting to even look at her friend, and she still hid behind the white, feathered fan.

"You know," Melek said after some time. "No one else is around, you don't have to use that anymore."

"But that would be inappropriate." His friend's voice was low, almost a whisper.

"You've never used the fan with me before."

Ceridwyn didn't answer save a sigh, folding her fan and letting her arm rest at her side. More time passed, and before they knew it they were in her hall, and almost at her chamber door.

"Before I go," the Sheikah said, running a hand through his violet hair, "may I ask you something?"

"Yes, Melek?"

Melek opened the door to the girl's chambers, exercising his own sense of chivalry. "What were you trying to tell Sangethia?"

Silence from her again, but for the first time that night, Ceridwyn's eyes met the Sheikah's own, a startled, almost disturbed look to them.

"You don't have to tell me if that is not your wish," he fought the tendency to come across as awkward, nearly afraid he had offended his companion.

Fumbling with her fan, the Hylian spoke. "I heard Sangethia mention prophetic dreams..."


Ceridwyn now wished, sincerely, that she could get some sleep.

Waiting for Sangethia was torture, especially when she knew she was in for a good scolding. Her knowledge of the Priestess' incredible intuition told her that the old woman knew something about her dreams. I just know these visions mean something. The goddesses are trying to tell me something, of great importance, I have no doubt.

Ceridwyn had wanted nothing more than to be allowed to speak during that meeting. There was nothing more frustrating, to her at least, than to be silenced.

But this was common. More than often she would have something to say, but everyone simply turned their backs and closed their ears to her, whispering to each other (the ladies often mistaken that the fan masks one's voice) not to listen, that 'Ceridwyn was just babbling on again'.

It made her think of the old Hylian legend of the weaver, who was so rebellious that her husband, a great nobleman, locked her in a tower. He sent for a magician to cast a muting spell upon his wife, for her screams and angry words were so loud he could hear her throughout his palace. And how did it all end? One day, as the woman was weaving, she looked out her only window to the horizon and saw a great dark mass: the army of her husband's rival. As his rival's army surprised them all in the night, slaughtering many, she sat in her tower, silently weaving, and when some soldiers finally reached her chamber they found her finishing a great tapestry depicting her warning... completed hours too late.

The noblewoman didn't even jump as the heavy sound of gold against her wooden door rang out, sudden.

"Lady Ceridwyn," came Sangethia's grave tone. "You are presentable?"

"I am, your Holiness," Ceridwyn replied.

When Sangethia entered the room, she was not at all surprised to see the blonde woman curled up in a sitting position, knees drawn up tightly against her chest, on her bed. The golden slippers were on the floor, but the young woman still wore her robe, her blue eyes not even raising to regard the Priestess.

The elder of the two pushed the thick wooden door shut, shaking her head. "Forgetting your manners again, are you?"

Pinching her forefinger and thumb together, Ceridwyn touched her fingertips to the crown of her forehead, then just above her left brow, then the right. This action symbolized the three goddesses and the triforce, and was used as a general blessing as well as a greeting for all holy persons. Sangethia returned the greeting, albeit coldly, before approaching to stand at the other woman's bedside.

"Why..." the blonde began, but she was interrupted.

"Did I silence you at the meeting?" Sangethia rested both her hands on her walking-stick, almost leaning, making her seem even more old and faded than usual.

Ceridwyn nodded.

"You have been having dreams, have you not? Dreams you believe to be prophetic?"

"Yes, your Holiness." came the soft answer, the bearer of the voice too afraid of being silenced again to speak further.

Sangethia's golden eyes narrowed. "Tell me what you see."

"Wind, water, and..." Ceridwyn swallowed deeply, closing her eyes. Ah, there it was. Just focus, and it's right there in front of me again. I can see it, all of it. My sword. The shadow... "...and a great, towering shadow."

"Tell me, Ceridwyn, where are you, exactly, in this dream?" the Priestess inquired, her speech rushed and a steadily growing uneasy look about her.

"The shadow... it's standing right before me. And in my hand..."

Interruption again. "A sword." Sangethia gave a deep sigh, her age showing in her very gaze.

"Yes, your Holiness."

"Never speak of this again." The old woman turned on her heel, preparing to leave the chambers. It was as if some great cloud had suddenly chosen to linger on her path, her countenance was dark, but nonetheless it seemed, to her, that Ceridwyn was determined to make it worse.

The blonde stood from her bed, barely wincing at the coldness of the stone on her bare skin, and called out, "But Priestess, won't you tell me the meaning of all this?"

"No, Lady, I will not. Now, good night, and may Golden Light go with you..."

It was Sangethia's turn to be interrupted. "But why not?"

"You would never understand it, Ceridwyn!"

"I need to at least try! If the Royal Family is having these dreams too, I do have a part in this! The Goddesses would not send me the prophecy as well without reason."

Fire blazed in the Priestess' eyes as she spun around, pointing her now-glowing golden staff in the noblewoman's direction. "You shall have no part in this!"

Normally, this would have deterred even the King from further inquiry, but Ceridwyn was a debatable subject for either being extremely brave or extremely foolhardy. She stepped forward, almost putting herself against the end of the staff, and continuing to raise her voice called out, "You are not the one to determine that, that is up to the Goddesses, so how do you know?"

Sangethia dealt the young woman a swift jab to the abdomen with her staff, sending Ceridwyn back a few steps, reeling. The Priestess' anger was now so apparent that her eyes began to glow as gold as her walking-stick. "How dare you, Lady, contest what I, High Priestess of the Seal, know of the will of the Goddesses!"

Ceridwyn at last began to feel fear, finding herself still at the aim of the staff as she backed up onto her bed, and finally the stone wall the furniture was against in her attempts to get away.

"You would do to listen well," Sangethia went on, "Firstly, never treat me with such disrespect again. And secondly, you will have no part in this and if you continue to be insolent, I am not afraid to ensure your lack of involvement. You may think that dream meant something, but it did not. Do you understand me?"

So many protests to this filled the blonde's mind, but her throat was so paralyzed she could only give a nod.

Sangethia's staff and eyes faded once more, giving the light they had borrowed back to the bedside lantern, and the staff itself became a walking-stick again as the old woman made her exit.