Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, Scheherazade, or any of the stories that Scheherazade told (or that anyone else told, for that matter, in case anyone was wondering…).
Chapter 6
At point of dagger, she signed the marriage certificate. She felt as if she were being led to the gallows as she was led to the wedding chamber, which was probably not far from the truth. She hoped to god that her father was not worrying about her. His condition had not improved during her last weeks at home. He got to be so frail that she suspected a light breeze would knock him off his feet. Perhaps this rude king would have the sense to let her send her father letters, and receive them from him. It would be the least she could expect after such appalling treatment, and if it were refused her, well, she'd have something to say about that, yes she would… She would not let this heathen take complete control over her. She refused to let him have power over her. As for the fate "worse than death," well… She wasn't sure what she would do when the time came. It would be considered treason to refuse him, and that was a penalty that would almost certainly precede a short walk to the guillotine, or something similarly grotesque.
She was still stewing about it as she sat in her new room, poorly lit with but one sad stump of a candle. Outside it was dark as pitch; the moon could not be seen and the stars were hiding behind the black blanket of the sky. The candle threw a light that was dark and melancholy amber, making the deepest shadows dance menacingly, and the rich furnishings glisten with a sinister aura. Under heavy sarcasm, she could admit that the atmosphere, at least, was cheery.
With a terrifying jolt she heard the door open and close silently. A panic spread through her, and she felt her heart leap to her throat, beating furiously. What was she going to do? Would she choose to fight or give in? Was it going to be life or death? Now was the time to decide. She was in the lair of the dragon, as a maiden thrown to the sacrifice. Would she be scalded by its fire or eaten whole? Perhaps the beast would be particularly cruel and eat her feet first and advance upwards as its stomach demanded, allowing her to play spectator to her own slow and painful demise.
Her imagination halted its petrifying ministrations as she felt the air around her shift. He was coming towards her. The candle was blown out as he passed it, and he resumed his advance. Try as she might to discern some inkling of light, it was of no use at all; it was obsidian black. She could not tell if her eyes were open or closed, and she pressed her hands to her face to check…
"So there you are," a deep voice observed. The sound made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It was so quiet she could hear the pumping of blood through her veins, and the tempo quickened deafeningly as the sound of potential doom approached her side.
"What is it you want with me?" She demanded, not even knowing her own voice as it came out in a terrified whisper, rather than the imperious command she had hoped it would be. She gasped in horror as she felt hands grasp her shoulders, and then she was pulled in to a rough and suffocating embrace. She struggled, as her strength would allow, but it was not worth much at the moment.
"Yes, resist, that's very good. I like it when they have fire in them," the man chuckled, belittling her pain.
"Damn you…" She managed to say as her throat constricted on a sob.
"Well, what a mouth you have. Perhaps I should cut out your tongue…"
His last remark got her adrenaline pumping even faster than before. Survival was the only topic running through her brain, the only objective, there was nothing else! It was imperative that she survive! She could hear the sound of a dagger being unsheathed and she said the first thing that came to her mind, to throw him off, to get him to let her go, at the very, very least!
"Once upon a time there was a poor husbandman who had many children. Although he loved them all dearly, he could not afford the food or clothes to sustain them all. Pretty children they all were, but the prettiest of them all was the youngest daughter, whose beauty was unsurpassed in both mind and spirit." She cried out as the dagger was pressed to her throat and continued in a frantic tone, "One cold and cruel winter night, the father heard something tapping on the window. He went outside to see what it was, and there outside his door he found a giant white bear." Faye began to feel the dagger press in deeper…
"Please! I am not prepared to die!" She felt warm blood trickle down her chest. "I am willing to give you something precious to me in return for one more day of life."
The deep voice held a fearsome sneer as it said, "That I can have any time I wish."
"That's not what I mean," in spite of her fear, she felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment.
"Then you had better explain, and quickly."
"I can offer a story. It is not much, I know, but what is one more day worth to you, one who has killed so many before?" -(She took a wild guess)- "Spare one life for a mere day longer, a trifle for a trifle, is it not? What could the harm be, Majesty?" She could feel the blade's edge hesitantly recede a fraction of an inch and her confidence increased. "Yes, indeed. And a wonderful story it could be, too. Have you never heard the story of Aladdin and the Magic Lamp? Or have you heard East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon? No? I can tell you something unique and new to you that you may or may not remember the rest of your days. The least I can promise is that you'll be entertained."
There was a long pause, pregnant with agonizing anticipation. Finally, Faye felt the knife recede from her throat, and heard it being sheathed. The man let her go, and relief coursed through her body. All of a sudden she was very aware of the breeze coming in through the window, and the lovely feeling of her lungs still breathing air and her veins still pumping blood, her feet still planted firmly on the ground. She was so very grateful to have her life! Tears, this time of happiness instead of fear, ran streaming down her face in sheer gratitude and undying love to whichever god or spirit was responsible for her birth.
"Very well, let's hear this story. You have excited my curiosity. I suppose it is worth a short period of mercy, depending on whether it is to my liking or not. Please remember throughout the story that I will kill you when you have finished, so you had better make it good."
And that was fine with her. She had no shortage of stories. All were interesting, she knew as much, and well worth one last night of existence! She had come this far, after all. She had succeeded in surviving for a short while. Now all that was left to her was to keep doing so, as long as she possibly could…
She heard a match being struck behind her, and she turned as the candle was being lit. The light blinded her at first, but as her eyes became accustomed to it, she saw the most familiar looking figure…
"It's you!" She exclaimed in shock, before falling into a dead faint on the floor of the royal wedding chamber.
(Well. Welly welly welly welly well. Been a while, no? Terribly sorry, it couldn't be avoided. Writer's block can really suck ass, pardon my French. There aren't many reviews for this, but as I said in the previous chapter, I don't really care what anyone thinks about this. I like the story, and poo on you if you don't. That's right! POO! Anyway, if you'd like to review, please feel free to. Otherwise… Well, I can't think of the consequences if you don't, but they must be bad.
-QueSeraSera)
