Hi everyone! Finally I update, and I'm updating with such a long chapter that I've divided it into two parts to make reading easier! I'll post the second half in a few days but in the meantime I really hope you enjoy this first one. Mega thanks to TrudiRose as usual for her beta'ing and grammatical expertise. Also, a rather surreal thanks to last week's episode of Lost that freaked me out so much that I could not sleep and wrote half of this chapter at 2am! Something about the wee small hours of the morning really helps your thinking!
Chapter Twenty-Three.
Voices (Part One)
It was summer; the hottest summer Chip had ever known. As he walked through the fields, now ripe and colourful, he could feel sweat glistening on his brow. He was thirsty. He didn't know how long it had been since his last drink and, foolishly, he did not seem to have brought any with him. His limbs ached as he trudged through the grasses that had not been tended for weeks. He trampled the plants beneath his boots because there was no way round them. For unknown reasons, he looked up and the sun immediately blinded him. Blinking hard, he fought to clear the brightness that obscured his vision temporarily. It faded slowly to nothing and he opened his eyes.
Suddenly, the world seemed different. Everything was as it was before, yet nothing was the same, and still he walked on, feeling that surely soon he would reach his destination. He rounded a tree and there they were--two figures silhouetted in the sunlight ahead of him. Both were people he knew well. One had flaxen hair like spun gold, the other's sparkled red like the finest rubies that man could behold. As he walked towards them, one did not change. The other grew darker, then darker still, until she seemed engulfed in shadows; more shadows than the sun could make. The vision began to blur, while his mind became clearer...
He awoke with the dream still vivid in his head and a surge of power tickling beneath his skin.
Suddenly, he knew the truth.
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Fauve was cruelly awakened by water splashing onto her face. Muttering various curses, she groggily picked herself and the blanket off the ground and stumbled towards the nearest tree, getting more and more soaked as she went. This was not the first time it had rained since the start of her journey with Chip. However, all the other times they'd been awake and had managed to run for cover before it started. There was something infinitely unpleasant about being so unprepared.
Shivering, Fauve wrapped the driest part of the blanket around her shoulders and looked through the steady lines of water all around her, trying to see her dress. She eventually spied it under another tree nearby and, mercifully, it seemed to have stayed dry under the dense evergreen canopy above it.
Maybe it was the strands of interrupted sleep that still clouded her mind, maybe it was the icy shock of the raindrops that had pulled her into consciousness so suddenly, maybe it was the sudden need to feel dry cloth against her skin…whatever the reason, it took a while for Fauve to realise that her bedfellow was missing.
When she did, having sensed no other movement in the clearing besides the earth rapidly becoming mud underneath her feet, she was only a little surprised. It was, after all, not the first time a bed had been left cold beside her, its occupant stolen away into the night while she slept. She was disappointed, however. She had thought that this time she was needed for a little longer than a night. This one was different from any man she had ever known. He was ambitious, passionate, determined yet with an underlying vulnerability that made her want to know more…yes, he needed her. If he was to have any chance of winning this battle, he still needed her.
This simple realisation brought her to her senses. Of course, he was still here. Look! There was his horse, cowering pitifully in the rain. There was his bag, becoming more and more sodden by the second. He must have gone to seek shelter, and now she could see that the tree under whose branches she stood was no longer sufficient. As if to confirm this, a single drop of water found its way through her shelter, hitting her smartly on the bridge of her nose. If she stood here any longer, no doubt she would soon be as wet as if she was standing where she had lain. Dismissing the insecurities of a few moments ago as the after effects of sleep, Fauve braved the curtain of water to seek out Chip.
She did not have to search long. In fact she had barely begun when she saw him just ahead of her as she rounded a thicket. With an exaggerated sigh of relief (for she was now very wet indeed), she half-ran, half-slid through the mud to where he stood motionless, with his face turned away from her, seemingly just staring into the dusky haze of the morning's sky.
"Chip?" she asked, trying to be heard above the sudden boom of a thunderclap that stole her voice from her throat before she could make a sound. Glancing skywards, Fauve saw a large black storm cloud swirling above their heads. Another clap of thunder; this time so loud that she felt her ears ring.
She usually liked storms. As a child, they had fascinated her. She and her mother would sit at the window of their cottage, gaping at the awesome power of Mother Nature, She would scream at the noise and then giggle, relishing the exhilaration that came with the fear. They would cuddle together until the storm was over and Fauve would sleep soundly, dreams of thunderclouds dancing around her head.
But something about this storm scared her. It was only as she moved closer to Chip that she realised what that something was. He was dry, and so was the ground immediately around him. He turned and she saw the storm in his eyes.
"Chip?"
Controlling the weather was notoriously difficult and unpredictable. Few enchanters could manage it, and even fewer mastered it. Many just left it well alone. It was advanced and dangerous. One could cause floods or droughts, or even shake the earth till it cracked underfoot.
Nevertheless, Chip had summoned a storm.
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Not so far away, in the hut by the manor, all was calm, no sign of rain to be seen.
Raisse sat at the table staring at the sunrise as Lefou carefully placed a large steaming tureen in front of her. He then produced a spoon from his pocket, stirred the porridge once and then turned to leave his guest to her breakfast. He was thinking of the day ahead of him, of the work to do around the manor before the master returned, of his midday prayers, of his own breakfast…
"Lefou?"
He turned sharply, a little startled at the interruption of his thoughts. She was looking at him. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, her expression one of solemnity and weariness.
"Yes, princess?" he said cautiously. She rarely spoke to him. Her decision to now concerned him a little.
"Will you join me?"
"J…join you?" he spluttered.
"I would be grateful of the company…please?"
Her voice was timid and delicate. Lefou was suddenly reminded of how young she was. She was, after all, little more than a child and had surely seen things over the last few months that no child should have to see. He thought of his duties, and wondered if he could postpone them for a little while. After all, he had to admit that the loneliness was getting to him too. His master had been away for days with no announcement of an imminent return. The manor felt so large and empty without his presence echoing around the rooms and hallways. It might be nice to have somebody to talk to.
"For a little while," he murmured. He shuffled into the seat opposite her and glanced up quickly before staring at the tablecloth.
"Thank you."
She smiled gratefully and began to eat the porridge, blowing gently on each spoonful before she put it her mouth, Lefou was struck by her grace and delicate beauty. He realised that no amount of imprisonment or ill-treatment would ever take away her regality. Not for the first time, he felt guilt at keeping her locked up wash over him. He wondered what would happen to her once the master had what he wanted. Would she be freed, or left to live out the rest of her life as a prisoner? He hoped the former, though a feeling deep in his gut told him otherwise.
"Tell me about yourself, Lefou. Your home, your family, your life before…this."
He was astounded. No-one had ever asked him about himself before. Never. Not even in his younger days when people surrounded him constantly. It had always been Gaston they'd been interested in. He didn't even know where to start.
"I…um…live in Molyneaux in a little house next to the boulangerie. It has a thatched roof and garden with a little pond…
He paused. A sudden and great longing for his home wrenched his heart. He had left it so carelessly, so quickly…had he even remembered to bolt the door behind him?
"It sounds delightful," said the princess. "Do you live there with your family?"
"No, I live alone."
"Do you not have a wife? Children?"
"I never married. There was never anyone."
No-one but Gaston, and no-one since his death. It had seemed better that way. Hastily, he moved on to his family.
"Um…My father died when I was six years old. I haven't seen my mother for years. She re-married and had another child, and then she moved away."
"You did not want to go with her?"
"No. I…er…had commitments in Molyneaux."
"You had Gaston."
For a moment, Lefou wondered how she knew his name. Then it all came back…that night seventeen years ago…
The men hurried down the steps, some crawling, and some limping. They pretended not to hear the shouting and cheering coming from behind them. They had been defeated. They had lost.
Lefou stumbled to his feet, wincing at the sharp pain in his backside. He had been stabbed by…by a clock wearing an admiral's hat! Gingerly, he put his fingers to the wound. Oh, how it stung! His hand, when he looked at it, was smeared with blood.
The sound of rapidly approaching hooves suddenly echoed in his head. A girl shouted in the darkness.
"Beast…Gaston, no!"
He dimly recognised Belle before she and the horse thundered past him.
Belle? But what was she doing here? How did she escape? And now…and now she was galloping to that…that monster's aid? How could she! How dare she! He'd known she was trouble, had known it since that accursed day that Gaston had first laid eyes on her, and now here she was, meddling, interfering…
Where was Gaston anyway?
He smirked. 'You'll never get there in time', he thought. 'That beast will be dead long before you can reach him'.
Suddenly, lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating two figures fighting on the roof of the castle. Lefou strained to see who they were. It had to be them. Was Gaston winning? He had to be winning! Why, he'd slain grizzly bears, this beast was nothing.
The figures disappeared for a moment, then another jagged fork of lightning tore through the sky, and he saw Gaston dangling from the monster's paw.
"I'll do anything…anything!" Gaston's frightened voice echoed around the canyon.
Gaston was frightened? How could this be?
"Gaston!" yelled Lefou. He tried to move but fear had rooted him to the spot.
Wait! Gaston had gone. Where had he gone? He couldn't have fallen…Ah, there he was! Somehow he'd broken free of the monster and was quietly creeping up the roof to where it stood.
"Ga…," he started to shout in joy, but no, he mustn't warn the creature. Lefou clamped a fat, sweaty hand over his mouth. Silently, he urged Gaston on. A little further, a little further, and yes, he'd got him! Had stabbed him, right in the back…
Lefou's expression of excited anticipation slowly melted into one of absolute horror as he saw Gaston tumble from the roof, down, down into the black abyss of the canyon.
It was still painful, still after all these years. Ashamedly, he felt hot tears prickle behind his eyelids.
"Oh, Lefou," the girl's soft voice whispered, bringing him back to the present. "I'm sorry. I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose somebody you love."
He grimaced. He wanted to hate her, He longed for the feelings of abhorrence and disgust to come. She was the child of Gaston's murderer!
He couldn't. She was blameless, not even born at the time of Gaston's death. She would know. She would know soon enough the pain she could not imagine. He could not help but pity her for that.
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The rain stopped. The thunder stopped. Suddenly, the air was clear. Fauve looked around her in bewilderment.
"I made it stop," Chip explained. "Clever, isn't it?"
Clever was not the word Fauve would have picked, but she nodded, feeling tendrils of wet hair sticking to her forehead. Then she said in a low voice:
"I thought you couldn't do any more. You said yesterday…"
"Last night changed that."
"Oh." It was all Fauve could think of to say, but she needn't say any more. Chip continued.
"See, I've figured it out. Strong emotion, strong feelings…that's the key. Grief, when Raisse died, desperation, whatever last night was about, lust I guess, anger…it's what makes me stronger. I feel…I feel like I can do anything, it's…incredible."
Fauve was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, hence her lack of words. What was she supposed to say? Congratulations, you've gone too far? Not too mention that his throwaway comment about the previous evening had stung her just a little…
"So, I guess I have you to thank for this. But…wait…that's not all I got from last night. See, Fauve, I had another of my visions."
He paused, looking expectantly at her. She did not like the faraway look in his eyes. Had he gone mad? "Okay."
"Stop it, Fauve," he snapped. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy. Don't make me tell you what you already know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped right back. Her confusion was turning into irritation. She rarely let people talk to her the way Chip was doing at that moment. Anyway, the best way to disguise the fear she felt with every word he said was to coat it with anger. The conversation was sending shivers down Fauve's spine, although she attributed at least part of it to the fact she was wet and freezing cold. Her head spun and her stomach lurched. She was terrified of the man in whose arms she had lain in just hours before. However, she was also defiant and headstrong. She had no true reason to fear him.
"I shall give you one chance to tell me the truth."
"What truth? I have been nothing but honest with you since the moment I met you!"
"You know my enemy…"
His words made her breath catch in her throat, and she realised how foolish she had been to think he would never find out. Still, she hadn't lied….
"I never said I did not."
"…yet you neglected to tell me."
"I did not think it mattered. You want to destroy it. I want to destroy it. Nothing else is relevant." She paused. "Besides, if you dreamed correctly, then you have no reason to challenge me. I have done nothing wrong."
Chip seemed to contemplate this for a moment. When he spoke again, his eyes bore into hers.
"Tell me everything then."
Fauve sighed. In truth, she was not sure why she hadn't told him the whole truth of her presence on his quest. After all, the truth was only five words, none of them difficult to say, yet every one evoked loss, pain and anxiety.
With a deep breath, she spoke.
"The creature has my brother."