Disclaimer: Blah....blah....blah
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10.
Mirian looked out of the window, her face expressionless. There was plenty for her to do in the home of the Kalid-Na'in, but she had not the energy to do it.
She could have embroidered a fine pattern for a tapestry. She could have sewn a beautiful dress or gone for an afternoon ride. One of the Three would have accompanied her no matter where she went, so she could not have the privacy she so desperately wanted.
A grand harp was set up in the lower levels of her new home, and she was free to play in when she wished. The dust was still on its strings however, and Mirian had no plans to change that. There were a plethora of other instruments that were waiting for her if she chose to use them; they were stored in the tower rooms that reached for the sky.
A great library took up the entire second floor of this place. Mirian was sitting there now, trying to sketch the beautiful landscape displayed before her. Her paper was blank, the charcoal untouched.
"She is my captive, you little bastard Princeling!" Thayer was yelling once more at Prince Corbin. "She is none of your business!" Mirian was watching this scene unfold with a detached interest.
"You must show respect, mercenary!" Corbin yelled back, his brown hair flying every which way. "You do not accord me the respect that I am due!"
Thayer was the picture of calm. He stood there, rock solid and impassive. "You know," he said with a dangerous intensity, "I was once like you: arrogant and spoiled."
"I am not arrogant, mercenary, I have pride and dignity." Corbin held his head high, eyes flashing with anger.
Mirian noted with a touch of cynicism that Corbin made no objections to the claim that he was spoiled.
"When I was as you are now, I, too, thought it pride. You will find out the consequences of your childish words if you are not careful. You never know who- or what- may be listening." With that, Thayer took a step back from the Prince.
"What mean you by that?" Corbin asked indignantly, although Mirian could tell he was frightened. The Prince's voice had risen with each word he uttered. "Who listens?"
Thayer stepped closer once again. "I will not tell you. You will either find out through experience or not at all." The mercenary stepped back. "You will know if you are meant to know."
Mirian listened intently, straining to catch every word they said. Unfortunately for her suddenly curious self, Thayer said no more, only stood stoically facing the Prince with his arms crossed.
However, Prince Corbin had no such intentions of staying silent. "How dare you talk to me like that! You are no more than a dirty mercenary who lives on what little money that he can get, whereas I am a Prince! You must show me more respect-" Corbin's words were cut off abruptly.
Thayer stood there, an expression of cool, calculating calm on his face. His belt knife was pressed against the tender skin of the Prince's throat. Mirian had thought that the bejeweled little blade was nothing more than a vain decoration, and from the Prince's expression, so had he.
"Don't ever speak to me like that again, do you understand?" His voice was low and intense, rumbling through his chest.
"Yes," squeaked Corbin, "sir!" The Prince gulped in air and rubbed his throat when Thayer dropped the knife.
Mirian was leaning on the windowsill; so intent on the scene below her that she didn't hear Lohengrin come in.
"Princess! What in Sky's name are you doing?" Mirian saw Thayer's eyes flick up toward the tower window before she turned around.
"Well," she started off icily, "I was sketching." She gestured imperiously at the charcoal and blank paper.
"Doesn't look like that to me," Lohengrin said with a chuckle. "It looked like you were eavesdropping on Thayer and Prince Corbin down in the courtyard." The mercenary grinned.
"You seem to have been doing the same thing," Mirian replied stiffly, not liking his familiar manner with her. "I was trying to sketch though, but I just couldn't concentrate," she said in a warmer tone.
"Ah," said Lohengrin, as if that explained everything. "Why don't you come with me for a ride, right now."
Mirian almost smiled before she caught herself. "I- I guess so…" she looked up uncertainly at Lohengrin.
"Come, leave all that here," he said, referring to the sketching materials with a swoop of his arm, "And meet at the stables as soon as possible."
"Alright…and- thank you, Sir Lohengrin."
"Ah, Mirian, I'm not a noble knight. Call me Lohen." And with that cheerful parting word, he left the library to go ready their horses.
Mirian appeared a short while later dressed in riding britches and a loose muslin shirt. She watched Lohen saddle the horses until he noticed her.
"Welcome Princess," He said after a quick pause. "Take Mouse here- she's a quiet little mare suited just fine for you." he handed her the reins of the dun mare.
"Thank you, Lohen." She pointedly ignored his offer to help her into the saddle and swung up gracefully herself. "Where will we be riding?"
Lohen mounted his grey mare and nudged the horse into a trot. "We're going into the forest."
"Come on, Mouse," She said to the horse. "Get up." The mare lumbered into a half-hearted trot, not even trying to keep up with Lohen's horse.
They rode on for a time, not speaking, only observing the wildlife around them.
"Easy, girl," Lohen said as he slowed the grey to a walk. "Catch up, will you?" He called over his shoulder to Mirian.
Mirian glared at his back and kept after Mouse to move. Finally she was caught up. With stormy grey eyes, she looked at Lohen. "You could have slowed down," she informed him.
"I could have," the mercenary agreed genially. "We'll walk the rest of the way."
Mirian was bursting with questions, but her pride kept them strictly in check. "Fine," was all she said.
The hooves of the horses falling on the spongy loam were the only non-native sound that echoed through the forest. Wind soughing through the trees played with Mirian's hair as they rode over the beaten path.
"Here we are," Lohengrin whispered at last. He urged his mare through the shrubbery and Mirian's Mouse followed, snatching a bite of greenery to chomp on.
"Look at it," Mirian gasped in delight. The little glade was almost too perfect to be real.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Lohen replied with a smile. "You would never have guessed that once this whole area was covered with blood and death, would you?"
"What do you mean?" Mirian asked him, looking perplexed. With a creak from the saddle, she slid off of Mouse's back and onto the ground.
Lohen smiled at her. "Give me a moment, and I will tell you. Here, give me Mouse's lead, I'll make sure she won't go anywhere." Lohen kneed the grey over to a tree, dragging Mouse along behind. Skilled fingers tied up Mouse, and then the grey to separate trees with lots of fresh greens in nibbling distance.
Mirian was walking around the glade, stopping to touch anything that caught her fancy. Finally, she sat down in a patch of sunlight and waited for Lohen.
Lohen folded his hands together and sat down on the ground. "There was once a great Queen. She was loved by all of her people. She ruled them with a fair hand and a wise head, and their land- the Shanlan Isles- was prosperous. They were isolated in the ocean, and so, it was a great expanse of time before the news of a Great War reached them.
"The Queen, Leila, received a cry for help from her nearest neighbor, Tarran. She knew, deep within her heart that she must answer. It grieved her to do so, but she knew she must.
"Leila sent a herald to all of the Islands and recruited their best warriors. It was a great number, for not all were warriors; some of the men and women who came were willing to take the risk to help their Queen and Country.
"Leila took her force with her over the stormy seas of winter and into the closest port of Tarran. When she disembarked, a great cheer went up from those who were there. Help had come, at last!
"The King of Tarran himself came to meet with Leila. He thanked her profusely and even gave her his own set of rooms to use.
"She helped him fight his battles with Lamar, and watched the blood of her people mingle with his. In time, as many things happen in time, she fell in love with King Trent of Tarran.
"They chose to hold their wedding here, in this very vale. The day of the ceremony was set, and only a few trusted people were asked to bear witness. Alas, a Lamaran found out and sent an army to interrupt the wedding.
"The Queen and King defended themselves valiantly, and so did their people, but 'twas not good enough. First King Trent was cut down by an archer's arrow. Leila knelt by his side as he died, and held his hand till the last minute he drew breath. As soon as his eyes closed forever, she let out a blood-curdling scream that stopped everyone right where they stood.
"The Queen flew into a frenzy, killing as many as possible. Finally, a sword that cut open her stomach felled her. As she lay dying in a pool of her own blood, she cursed everyone around her.
"Those who saw it told tales of the Queen's bravery at her funeral. When the flames began to lick at her body, they say a raven flew up out of the ashes, taking life from the death. Many tried to interpret the omen, and none could agree.
"Some said that the raven was a sign of ill will to the whole continent of Rhynne; others said that it was Leila's spirit taking wing to gain revenge. Nobody truly knows what it meant." Lohen sighed and closed his eyes. He was sprawled on the ground, pillowing his head on his arms.
Mirian was leaning against a tree; her eyes were also closed. "That was a different story," she murmured.
"Yeah," Lohen sighed in response. He opened one eye and looked at her. One leg was tucked up underneath of her, and her dark hair was blowing in the slight breeze that filled the glade.
"Did you make that up?" She asked. When she opened her eyes, she caught him looking at her.
"No ma'am!" Lohen protested. "That's all fact! Saw it with my own eyes, I did," Lohen boasted proudly.
Mirian curled her lip distastefully, "You're that old?"
"Aye," Lohen said with a grimace, "Although you didn't have to put it like that."
"Sorry," Mirian said shortly, returning to her former iciness. "Let's go back. It's getting dark."
"Alright then," Lohen got up with a sigh. "Let's go back." He walked over to Mouse and the Grey and untied them. "Here, take Mouse again," he said as he handed the reins to Mirian.
Mirian took the reins silently and mounted Mouse. She waited for Lohen to get up, and then kicked a reluctant Mouse into a jarring trot. "Hurry up."
"What's the rush, Princess?" Lohen asked as he trotted beside her. "You seemed to have all the time in the world a few moments ago."
"Unlike you," Mirian snapped angrily as she pulled Mouse to an abrupt halt, "I am not immortal."
"Oh, Princess," Lohen eyed her sadly, "I thought you knew! We Kalid-Na'in are only immortal for so long. Eventually everyone finds love, and then and only then are we released from our bond of immortality."
"I trust you are saying that you do not love me?"
Lohen laughed, a brittle sound that was full of pain and bitterness. "No, sweet child, not you. I have fallen in love with this forest, the land."
"Does that make you mortal then?" Mirian asked him.
"Sadly, no." Lohen patted the Grey fondly on the shoulder.
"Why sadly?" Mirian asked, her curiosity winning over her anger.
"Do you know what it is like to live forever? Of course you don't. I do, and it is not a pleasant thing. I have watched my comrades die in battle for a fair maiden. I have seen many horrors, which I will not recount for you, sweet one. Living forever is not all that it is cracked up to be, you know." Lohen smiled sadly and nudged the Grey into a canter. "Come, it is late, and we must be off."
This confused Mirian. It whirled around her head like a blizzard, never stopping. She quickly kicked Mouse into a rolling canter so as not to be left behind, refusing to think about what Lohen had told her.
---
-A/N- Ooohh...A story within a story? Does it have signifigance? (Did I spell that correctly?) What do you people think? I love asking you guys!!
Okie Dokie...Seriously thinking about Shattered Decorum or Broken Promise for the title...
Ko-Shani: Eh, Petra probably was too happy, but, you never know!
Kat Rowan Kamara: I like your name! So back to Thayer...sort of...more next chapter, I think. Although, I could be wrong.
EvenSong
---
10.
Mirian looked out of the window, her face expressionless. There was plenty for her to do in the home of the Kalid-Na'in, but she had not the energy to do it.
She could have embroidered a fine pattern for a tapestry. She could have sewn a beautiful dress or gone for an afternoon ride. One of the Three would have accompanied her no matter where she went, so she could not have the privacy she so desperately wanted.
A grand harp was set up in the lower levels of her new home, and she was free to play in when she wished. The dust was still on its strings however, and Mirian had no plans to change that. There were a plethora of other instruments that were waiting for her if she chose to use them; they were stored in the tower rooms that reached for the sky.
A great library took up the entire second floor of this place. Mirian was sitting there now, trying to sketch the beautiful landscape displayed before her. Her paper was blank, the charcoal untouched.
"She is my captive, you little bastard Princeling!" Thayer was yelling once more at Prince Corbin. "She is none of your business!" Mirian was watching this scene unfold with a detached interest.
"You must show respect, mercenary!" Corbin yelled back, his brown hair flying every which way. "You do not accord me the respect that I am due!"
Thayer was the picture of calm. He stood there, rock solid and impassive. "You know," he said with a dangerous intensity, "I was once like you: arrogant and spoiled."
"I am not arrogant, mercenary, I have pride and dignity." Corbin held his head high, eyes flashing with anger.
Mirian noted with a touch of cynicism that Corbin made no objections to the claim that he was spoiled.
"When I was as you are now, I, too, thought it pride. You will find out the consequences of your childish words if you are not careful. You never know who- or what- may be listening." With that, Thayer took a step back from the Prince.
"What mean you by that?" Corbin asked indignantly, although Mirian could tell he was frightened. The Prince's voice had risen with each word he uttered. "Who listens?"
Thayer stepped closer once again. "I will not tell you. You will either find out through experience or not at all." The mercenary stepped back. "You will know if you are meant to know."
Mirian listened intently, straining to catch every word they said. Unfortunately for her suddenly curious self, Thayer said no more, only stood stoically facing the Prince with his arms crossed.
However, Prince Corbin had no such intentions of staying silent. "How dare you talk to me like that! You are no more than a dirty mercenary who lives on what little money that he can get, whereas I am a Prince! You must show me more respect-" Corbin's words were cut off abruptly.
Thayer stood there, an expression of cool, calculating calm on his face. His belt knife was pressed against the tender skin of the Prince's throat. Mirian had thought that the bejeweled little blade was nothing more than a vain decoration, and from the Prince's expression, so had he.
"Don't ever speak to me like that again, do you understand?" His voice was low and intense, rumbling through his chest.
"Yes," squeaked Corbin, "sir!" The Prince gulped in air and rubbed his throat when Thayer dropped the knife.
Mirian was leaning on the windowsill; so intent on the scene below her that she didn't hear Lohengrin come in.
"Princess! What in Sky's name are you doing?" Mirian saw Thayer's eyes flick up toward the tower window before she turned around.
"Well," she started off icily, "I was sketching." She gestured imperiously at the charcoal and blank paper.
"Doesn't look like that to me," Lohengrin said with a chuckle. "It looked like you were eavesdropping on Thayer and Prince Corbin down in the courtyard." The mercenary grinned.
"You seem to have been doing the same thing," Mirian replied stiffly, not liking his familiar manner with her. "I was trying to sketch though, but I just couldn't concentrate," she said in a warmer tone.
"Ah," said Lohengrin, as if that explained everything. "Why don't you come with me for a ride, right now."
Mirian almost smiled before she caught herself. "I- I guess so…" she looked up uncertainly at Lohengrin.
"Come, leave all that here," he said, referring to the sketching materials with a swoop of his arm, "And meet at the stables as soon as possible."
"Alright…and- thank you, Sir Lohengrin."
"Ah, Mirian, I'm not a noble knight. Call me Lohen." And with that cheerful parting word, he left the library to go ready their horses.
Mirian appeared a short while later dressed in riding britches and a loose muslin shirt. She watched Lohen saddle the horses until he noticed her.
"Welcome Princess," He said after a quick pause. "Take Mouse here- she's a quiet little mare suited just fine for you." he handed her the reins of the dun mare.
"Thank you, Lohen." She pointedly ignored his offer to help her into the saddle and swung up gracefully herself. "Where will we be riding?"
Lohen mounted his grey mare and nudged the horse into a trot. "We're going into the forest."
"Come on, Mouse," She said to the horse. "Get up." The mare lumbered into a half-hearted trot, not even trying to keep up with Lohen's horse.
They rode on for a time, not speaking, only observing the wildlife around them.
"Easy, girl," Lohen said as he slowed the grey to a walk. "Catch up, will you?" He called over his shoulder to Mirian.
Mirian glared at his back and kept after Mouse to move. Finally she was caught up. With stormy grey eyes, she looked at Lohen. "You could have slowed down," she informed him.
"I could have," the mercenary agreed genially. "We'll walk the rest of the way."
Mirian was bursting with questions, but her pride kept them strictly in check. "Fine," was all she said.
The hooves of the horses falling on the spongy loam were the only non-native sound that echoed through the forest. Wind soughing through the trees played with Mirian's hair as they rode over the beaten path.
"Here we are," Lohengrin whispered at last. He urged his mare through the shrubbery and Mirian's Mouse followed, snatching a bite of greenery to chomp on.
"Look at it," Mirian gasped in delight. The little glade was almost too perfect to be real.
"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Lohen replied with a smile. "You would never have guessed that once this whole area was covered with blood and death, would you?"
"What do you mean?" Mirian asked him, looking perplexed. With a creak from the saddle, she slid off of Mouse's back and onto the ground.
Lohen smiled at her. "Give me a moment, and I will tell you. Here, give me Mouse's lead, I'll make sure she won't go anywhere." Lohen kneed the grey over to a tree, dragging Mouse along behind. Skilled fingers tied up Mouse, and then the grey to separate trees with lots of fresh greens in nibbling distance.
Mirian was walking around the glade, stopping to touch anything that caught her fancy. Finally, she sat down in a patch of sunlight and waited for Lohen.
Lohen folded his hands together and sat down on the ground. "There was once a great Queen. She was loved by all of her people. She ruled them with a fair hand and a wise head, and their land- the Shanlan Isles- was prosperous. They were isolated in the ocean, and so, it was a great expanse of time before the news of a Great War reached them.
"The Queen, Leila, received a cry for help from her nearest neighbor, Tarran. She knew, deep within her heart that she must answer. It grieved her to do so, but she knew she must.
"Leila sent a herald to all of the Islands and recruited their best warriors. It was a great number, for not all were warriors; some of the men and women who came were willing to take the risk to help their Queen and Country.
"Leila took her force with her over the stormy seas of winter and into the closest port of Tarran. When she disembarked, a great cheer went up from those who were there. Help had come, at last!
"The King of Tarran himself came to meet with Leila. He thanked her profusely and even gave her his own set of rooms to use.
"She helped him fight his battles with Lamar, and watched the blood of her people mingle with his. In time, as many things happen in time, she fell in love with King Trent of Tarran.
"They chose to hold their wedding here, in this very vale. The day of the ceremony was set, and only a few trusted people were asked to bear witness. Alas, a Lamaran found out and sent an army to interrupt the wedding.
"The Queen and King defended themselves valiantly, and so did their people, but 'twas not good enough. First King Trent was cut down by an archer's arrow. Leila knelt by his side as he died, and held his hand till the last minute he drew breath. As soon as his eyes closed forever, she let out a blood-curdling scream that stopped everyone right where they stood.
"The Queen flew into a frenzy, killing as many as possible. Finally, a sword that cut open her stomach felled her. As she lay dying in a pool of her own blood, she cursed everyone around her.
"Those who saw it told tales of the Queen's bravery at her funeral. When the flames began to lick at her body, they say a raven flew up out of the ashes, taking life from the death. Many tried to interpret the omen, and none could agree.
"Some said that the raven was a sign of ill will to the whole continent of Rhynne; others said that it was Leila's spirit taking wing to gain revenge. Nobody truly knows what it meant." Lohen sighed and closed his eyes. He was sprawled on the ground, pillowing his head on his arms.
Mirian was leaning against a tree; her eyes were also closed. "That was a different story," she murmured.
"Yeah," Lohen sighed in response. He opened one eye and looked at her. One leg was tucked up underneath of her, and her dark hair was blowing in the slight breeze that filled the glade.
"Did you make that up?" She asked. When she opened her eyes, she caught him looking at her.
"No ma'am!" Lohen protested. "That's all fact! Saw it with my own eyes, I did," Lohen boasted proudly.
Mirian curled her lip distastefully, "You're that old?"
"Aye," Lohen said with a grimace, "Although you didn't have to put it like that."
"Sorry," Mirian said shortly, returning to her former iciness. "Let's go back. It's getting dark."
"Alright then," Lohen got up with a sigh. "Let's go back." He walked over to Mouse and the Grey and untied them. "Here, take Mouse again," he said as he handed the reins to Mirian.
Mirian took the reins silently and mounted Mouse. She waited for Lohen to get up, and then kicked a reluctant Mouse into a jarring trot. "Hurry up."
"What's the rush, Princess?" Lohen asked as he trotted beside her. "You seemed to have all the time in the world a few moments ago."
"Unlike you," Mirian snapped angrily as she pulled Mouse to an abrupt halt, "I am not immortal."
"Oh, Princess," Lohen eyed her sadly, "I thought you knew! We Kalid-Na'in are only immortal for so long. Eventually everyone finds love, and then and only then are we released from our bond of immortality."
"I trust you are saying that you do not love me?"
Lohen laughed, a brittle sound that was full of pain and bitterness. "No, sweet child, not you. I have fallen in love with this forest, the land."
"Does that make you mortal then?" Mirian asked him.
"Sadly, no." Lohen patted the Grey fondly on the shoulder.
"Why sadly?" Mirian asked, her curiosity winning over her anger.
"Do you know what it is like to live forever? Of course you don't. I do, and it is not a pleasant thing. I have watched my comrades die in battle for a fair maiden. I have seen many horrors, which I will not recount for you, sweet one. Living forever is not all that it is cracked up to be, you know." Lohen smiled sadly and nudged the Grey into a canter. "Come, it is late, and we must be off."
This confused Mirian. It whirled around her head like a blizzard, never stopping. She quickly kicked Mouse into a rolling canter so as not to be left behind, refusing to think about what Lohen had told her.
---
-A/N- Ooohh...A story within a story? Does it have signifigance? (Did I spell that correctly?) What do you people think? I love asking you guys!!
Okie Dokie...Seriously thinking about Shattered Decorum or Broken Promise for the title...
Ko-Shani: Eh, Petra probably was too happy, but, you never know!
Kat Rowan Kamara: I like your name! So back to Thayer...sort of...more next chapter, I think. Although, I could be wrong.
EvenSong