A/N: Wow, sorry for taking so long in getting this chapter up. I was on vacation, and unfortuanately, I was nowhere near a computer the entire time. Sadly, none of you figured out where Gavin comes from. I'll give you a hint: His father was Daniel of Falcon's Harbor, and if that doesn't ring a bell, go back and read Chapters 8-9 of Everything She Ever Wanted. Things should fall into place after that. Now, after this lengthy author's note, here's Chapter 3.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine.
A Whole New World: Chapter 3
"May I have this dance?"
Yasmin finally nodded, and Gavin extended his hand, his blue eyes brightening as he showered her with a charming smile that made his handsome face light up. Completely enthralled, Yasmin followed him onto the floor, suddenly nervous. Her mother had attempted to teach her a few dance steps, but the few she knew would never support her ruse when the nobles did the more complicated turns and steps. Thankfully for her, the orchestra struck up a relatively slow waltz, and with relief, Yasmin recognized the tune as one of the few she knew.
Letting Gavin take the lead, Yasmin was quiet as they stepped around the dance floor, marveling at the ladies' dresses in their bright colors and the men's silk tunics with their gold thread. She spotted Amadahy not too far off, dancing with a charming young man and laughing. Glad her friend was having so much fun, Yasmin turned her attention back to her partner and blushed when she found Gavin staring at her.
"You're not like most court ladies I know," Gavin said calmly, and Yasmin avoided his gaze, blushing at his bluntness and feeling panicked for the first time. How was she supposed to pull this off and still find the spies?
Luckily, Gavin hadn't noticed her embarrassment, and continued on. "You seem familiar. Do I know your family?"
Yasmin looked up, glad for a question she could answer. They continued their way around the dance floor as she answered, "No, my mother didn't like to come to court often." Gavin spun her gracefully and replaced his hand on her waist as she asked, "What about your mother?"
Her companion's face darkened, and at first Yasmin wondered if she had said something offensive. She was about to apologize when Gavin said quietly, "My mother was once a court lady, but she retired to Corus after my father's death eighteen years ago."
Yasmin was silent as he continued, never missing a step. "My father was killed in a border patrol, and so, my grandparents took me from my mother and decided to raise me as a noble." His face with expressionless as he murmured, "I never met my father, but my mother loved him, and his death hit her hard."
Yasmin was so absorbed in his story that for a moment she forgot where they were. Suddenly, she noticed the music had finished minutes ago and couples were moving off the dance floor to refresh themselves and wander the outdoor gardens. Gavin moved to escort her off the floor, but Yasmin stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for your loss," she murmured, staring up at him. Gavin lifted her hand to his lips in a silent thank-you, then escorted her onto the adjoining terrace.
Yasmin relished the balmy night air the second it hit her face. As warm as the breeze was, it was refreshingly cool after the stifling hotness of the ballroom. With the full moon on the horizon, the stars gleaming down at them, and the scent of a thousand roses in the air, it seemed to her the perfect night.
The laughter and gossip of the court ladies and their partners jolted her back to the present, and she looked around with renewed interest. She had a job to do, and as much as she would have loved to play her part to the fullest, she had other priorities. Gavin laid his hand on her arm, looking concerned.
"Lady Yasmin? Are you alright?" His voice snapped her out of her observations, and she turned to him, slightly irritated at the interruption. At the concerned look in his blue eyes, her heart fluttered, and she blushed.
"Please," she said softly, her green eyes gleaming silver in the moonlight, "call me Yasmin."
"Yasmin," Gavin repeated, looking surprised and pleased. He bowed to her, holding his arm out in invitation. "Would you like to take a stroll around the palace's gardens?"
Surrendering, Yasmin nodded. With a swish of emerald skirts, she was gone, down the path, forgetting all about the Scanran spies in her efforts to get to know this handsome young knight better.
Gavin showed Yasmin to her rooms, and pressing her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss, departed with a soft good-bye. Yasmin watched him go, and after he had disappeared around the corner, let herself in her rooms with the key she had strung around her neck.
The door swung open, showing Yasmin a room she had only seen in her dreams. A large bed with silken bedcovers crowned the room, and other expensive furniture completed the room, making it seem to Yasmin as if she was princess. Off the side chamber, a bath full of warm water awaited her. The open window let in the balmy Midsummer breeze, along with the scent of roses that were planted all along the courtyard that it opened upon.
Going over to her bags, Yasmin pulled out the many dresses her mother had provided, (whose origins she didn't know) and hung them up in her wardrobe. In the drawers of the wardrobe she carefully concealed breeches, tunics, shirts and daggers, in case she ever needed to do some scouting or got homesick for the Dove.
Carefully removing her ball gown, Yasmin stood clad in her shift. Grabbing a robe, she donned it, moving to the bath chamber where the warm water sat calling her.
Sinking down into the warm water, Yasmin sighed, closing her eyes. The water enveloped her in comfort, and she leaned back, soaping her hair. She had dismissed the maids long ago, confident in her ability to bathe herself. The water rushed into her ears, cutting off all sound, and Yasmin blinked her green eyes open, feeling sleepy. Just before her eyes closed again, ice began to grow on the sides of the tub, creating a glassy look and causing Yasmin to shiver before sighing.
Without moving from where she lay, Yasmin called into the other chamber, "Dahy, what do you want?"
A familiar face appeared around the door, grinning. "Is that any way to greet your best friend?" Amadahy questioned, her blue eyes changing to an aqua shade, pouting.
"It is when she does this to me," Yasmin retorted, gesturing to the ice that still covered the sides of the bath. Her friend came over to perch on the side of the round tub, running her hand over the ice lovingly. At her touch, the ice melted into scalding water, running into the bath and heating Yasmin's water, which had long since grown cold.
"I need to speak to you," the half-Elemental said, staring down earnestly at her friend. Yasmin sighed, once again submerging herself. Cold invaded the water around her, forcing her up to the surface in order to breathe. She emerged and glared at her friend, who was now grinning cheekily in the face of her friend's anger.
"Coming," Yasmin sighed, grabbing her towel. Pulling herself out of the bath, she watched as Dahy waved a hand at the tub, turning the water into clouds of steam. Shooing the steam ahead of her, Amadahy left the other girl to don her shift and robe in private, her gown spotless, even though she had been perched on a wet tub moments before.
Returning to her bed chamber, Yasmin found her friend pushing the last of the steam into a nearby fountain in the courtyard outside her window. When the half-Elemental made to close the window, Yasmin protested.
"Leave it," she said, "the sound of the fountain and the scent of the roses soothes me." Amadahy gave her friend a strange look, but did as she was asked.
Perched on the bed and still clad in her ball gown, Amadahy asked, "That was an interesting ball, wasn't it?" She smoothed out her skirts self-consciously as Yasmin took a seat beside her.
"You looked like you were having a good time with that one man," Yasmin returned, her green eyes sparkling. "What was his name again? Larant?"
Amadahy blushed and protested, but Yasmin would hear none of it. "Well, what about your young knight?" Her friend shot back, her eyes changing to a clear blue as she smirked. "He seemed quite taken with you."
"He was not," Yasmin ducked her head, blushing and embarrassed, but her green eyes sparkled.
Amadahy snorted. "Yes, he wasn't taken with you at all, and that's why he didn't spend the entire evening with you, is that right?"
Yasmin's blush was the only answer she received. Sobering, the young thief told her friend, "We need to work on finding those spies."
Amadahy nodded, then yawned. Yasmin yawned too, and her green eyes drooped, suddenly tired. "Well, I'm off to bed," Dahy murmured, taking her leave after wishing her friend good dreams.
Closing the door behind her friend, Yasmin yawned again, ready to crawl into bed and sleep for a month. The moonlight pouring into the room lit it enough for the girl to be able to light the candles as she began to get ready for bed.
A sudden wind whipped into the room, causing the girl to shiver, hugging her shift to her body. Bending down, she warmed her hands and face by the fire, feeling the hair on the back on her neck stand up. Brushing out her hair, Yasmin quickly braided it, trying to ignore the feeling in her gut that told her something was about to happen.
The sound of claws scraping wood answered her fears, and Yasmin whirled around, pulling a dagger from seemingly out of nowhere. Wary, she halted when she realized that the thing that had shocked her was just a falcon, perching on her windowsill and staring at her with expressive dark eyes.
Yasmin carefully put her dagger away, and when she looked up, the falcon was still there, watching her. She approached him carefully, halting a few steps away. This close, and the magnificent avian took her breath away.
His plumage was unlike she'd ever seen, captive or wild. It was a mottled reddish-brown, with gold and copper streaks mixed in. With the moonlight lighting on his back, turning the feathers silver, and his front lit by the candlelight, he looked like an immortal creature. His dark eyes reflected the firelight and seemed to be filled with an almost human-like light. In his murderous beak, he held a pale pink rose, still closed and thornless.
Yasmin approached the bird slowly, reaching out to stroke his breast feathers first. "Well, hello," she crooned, "where did you come from?" The bird made no reply. Holding her other hand outstretched and still crooning, Yasmin reached out to take the rose, but the bird gently placed it in her palm and sat staring at her.
"Is this for me?" Yasmin asked, still petting the falcon. Silence was her reply, but staring into his expressive eyes, she got the feeling that he was trying to tell her something, and she felt something jolt deep inside of her.
The falcon must have felt it too, because he suddenly stretched his wings, giving loose a screech. Yasmin backed up, startled. The falcon settled, looking somehow apologetic for the noise.
"Are you lost?" Yasmin asked, once again stroking the brilliant feathers.
No, came a reply that echoed in her mind. It sounded like the echo of the falcon's screech, the sound of wings, the sound of whistling air, and somewhere, buried deep in the back, a spark of humanity.
Yasmin whirled around, shocked. She didn't hear the voice with her ears; it was somehow in her mind, but she could still hear it.
"Who are you?" She asked, her voice trembling. This had never happened to her before, and she didn't know how to react. She knew there was magic being worked, but she didn't know how to respond.
I'm over here, the voice replied, but when Yasmin turned in the voice's direction, all she saw was the falcon, staring at her calmly, the human-like glimmer in his dark eyes stronger now.
"Where?" Yasmin cried desperately, turning in circles. When the world righted around her, the falcon was still there. She made her way over to him, stroking his feathers and taking reassurance in the form of that simple gesture. "At least you're not the one talking to me in my head." She whispered confidingly to him, feeling like a little girl again for the first time in years.
But I am, the voice replied calmly as the falcon turned to look at her. Yasmin stumbled backwards, yanking her hand away from his plumage and dropping the rose in her haste to get away.
Trembling with fear, she grabbed a dagger. "Don't come any closer!"
I won't hurt you, the voice—the falcon—murmured. I've come to help you.
"Help me?" Yasmin echoed, her green eyes wide with fear and surprise, her black hair tumbling out of its braid. "How can you help me? Who are you?"
My name is Kiyoshi, the falcon told her, his mind-voice clear in her head. The Trickster sent me to help you.
A/N: Cliffy! Well, did you like it? Please tell me what you think by reviewing!