Hey Guys!
Okay, so reviews for the last chapter weren't that bad, it at least gave me a decent idea of readers.
But I wasn't really happy with the content of the reviews.
There were my complaints about my lack of updates, and I have to apologise for that, these holidays I have been flat out, working and hanging with my friends, and I wrote as often as possible, but I did find I have a lack of inspiration and ideas at the moment.
Which didn't help when many of the reviews say virtually nothing.
The point of reviews on this website is to help the author out, let them know what you'd like to see in the story, and give help. Unfortunately, no one has been doing that much, even when I post in the story that I need help.
So, to hopefully remedy this situation, I am going to allow anonymous reviews.
But, I do say to you: If you have an account, please post your review logged in under your pen name, that way I can reply to you.
I like replying to reviews, it gets me thinking about stories.
So, sorry to go on like this, but I have to say to you: REVIEW.
People, you cant complain about delays in updates if I have no help in my writing: its hard to write a story that keeps readers happy if you don't know what they want.
I seriously am having difficulty continuing this story, and I hate to say it, but if I have no support from my readers, I may stop writing this story altogether.
AND WHATS WITH THE CHRISTOFER HATE?
Alright: end rant.
Thanks for listening, guys.
QUESTION: WHO DO YOU WANT TO HEAR FROM? ITS KINDA HARD TO TELL :)
Sera coughed as she sat up in her bed, tenderly placing a couple of fingers on her chest. She searched her mind, trying to remember any detail of the attack; and most importantly, her attacker.
But it was like her mind was covered in a haze, hiding the memories she saught so much.
The last thing Sera remembered was seeing Braithe and Amelia together in the courtyard, and then running away towards the gardens.
She gasped in pain as she struggled to sit up, the room for once empty. There had always been someone there watching over her during her recovery, and for once there was no one. The pain in her chest seemed to dull when she stopped moving, so she slumped back onto her pillow, sighing in pain.
She heard a creak, and the door opened, and for once she was thankful that there was someone there to visit and watch over her. Judging from the heavy footsteps, it was Rowan.
"Hey, Rowan," she called, "Do you think you could help me? I need to sit up." Sera called as the footsteps approached.
"Well," said the voice and Sera froze, "I'm not Rowan, but I can help you to sit up." Sera felt strong arms slip behind her back, and pull her into a sitting position. Braithe straightened the pillows behind her.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, and she nodded numbly. He sat down on the wicker chair resting beside her bed, and sighed loudly.
"Whatever am I going to do with you, Serafina?" Braithe asked with a smile.
"Throw me to the sharks." She replied. "I seem to be bleeding alot, I'm sure they'll find me easily."
Braithe chucked, and placed his big hand over her tiny one, growing solemn.
"I missed you, Sera." He said quietly.
Sera felt her eyes well up. "Well then, why didn't you write?" she replied.
"I'm so sorry, Sera. I...just couldn't find the words, and it only made me miss you so much more."
"I missed you too." She said thickly, and he squeezed her hand.
"I suppose I turned up at the worst possible time," Sera said, staring at him, "Just when you were starting things with Amelia."
Braithe shook his head. "I don't really know what is going on there. I thought she was just my friend, but when she kissed me..."
"Things seemed right?" Sera said quietly.
"Not as right as when you kissed me." Braithe whispered, and Sera's heart warmed.
"Well, Braithe, be that as it may, you can't just ditch Amelia because I arrived. It hurts too much."
"I know." Braithe said.
Sera patted his hand gently.
"It'll be fine," she said.
But then Braithe looked up at her, with his big eyes, and gave her a look of such longing, she sighed out loud.
"I don't want it to be fine." He said, and leant forward to kiss her.
Sera returned the kiss for a moment, before pushing him away roughly.
"Braithe, come on! Think of Amelia!" Sera said, and Braithe nodded.
"I'm sorry." He said again.
"Just...go find her...please. You've found a connection with someone else, Braithe, and I'm fine with that. Go, and enjoy it."
Braithe stared at her again, before she pushed him, a light smile on her face.
"Go on!" she ushered, and he left the room with a nod.
Sera stretched her arms, being mindful of her wound. She tested where her body was sore, and cracked her knuckles loudly.
"That sounds ominous.." a quiet voice said, and Sera stopped.
"Who's that?" she called, and her voice was matched by quiet footsteps as Amelia came into view.
"Hello, Sera." She said. "Or do you prefer Serafina?"
"Sera." The injured girl said, smiling. "And can I help you?"
Amelia hesitated for a second. "I wanted to talk to you. About Braithe."
"Look," Sera said quickly, "You don't need to worry about me. Braithe is with you now, and there is no longer anything between us.." she said, but was surprised to see Amelia shaking her head softly with a smile.
"It isn't that," she said. "Look, I liked Braithe, but it was just a crush, and when I saw the way he looked at you...it was obvious who he wants."
"Amelia..." Sera began, but Amelia held up her hand to stop her.
"Sera; I want you and Braithe to be together. Its what is right." Amelia said, stunning Sera into silence. "And I intend to tell Braithe that too."
"What?" Sera breathed, shocked.
"I would like to be your friend though," Amelia said. "After all, we're both outcasts."
Sera nodded with a smile. "I'd love to be your friend, Amelia."
The two girls spent another hour chatting merrily in the infirmary, until Amelia decided to go and talk to Braithe. She told him the exact same thing she had told Sera, and also shocked him into silence.
Dune strolled along the corridor at the very western point of the castle aimlessly. Every time he passed a window, he took the chance to go up to it and stare out into the green Narnian hills.
He had nothing to do, and had just decided to waste some time and walk around. He thought about Sera and Braithe, and wondered whether or not things would work out for the pair. The only real element that was preventing them getting together again was Amelia.
His sister.
His long, lost sister.
Dune and Amelia had taken to eachother immediately over these past few months. She was everything he wanted in a sister; caring, brave, happy, and not afraid to fight for what she wanted. She was like him in so many ways.
He always wondered what their parents had been like, and shared only a couple of short conversations with Amelia about them. Their family was painful for her to talk about, he knew, and she often changed the subject almost immediately after he would bring it up.
He wished there was some way for him to get to know his parents, other than through Amelia, Dune thought as he stared out into the green pasture, occasionally blotted with wildflowers.
Suddenly, there was a clatter a little way around the corner of the corridor, and Dune hurried around it to see what was going on. He was met with the sight of a maid sprawled on the floor, an empty platter and several empty goblets rolling away from the scene. Obviously the maid had tripped, and everything, including herself, had gone flying.
Dune dropped to the floor beside her, taking her elbow in his hand. He pulled her to her feet, and she brushed away at her pocketed apron, straightening herself up. The tiny maid looked up, and jolted back when she saw the person who helped her was the Prince.
The maid was tiny in the extreme, but probably a little younger than Dune, with big brown eyes and long, and wispy raven black hair. She had small features, and her lips, though small, were formed in a perfect double curl. All in all, under the dirt of a maid, she was quite pretty.
She fumbled with her apron, and pulled out a small black board, and a piece of what looked like lead. She scratched on the board for a moment, and held it up for Dune to see.
Thankyou,Your Majesty.
It was then Dune recognised her. This was Amelia's maid from her old home, the one who has escorted her all the way, only to fall right before her arrival at Cair Paravel, and hit her head, removing all memory of the trip, and also her ability to speak.
Because of her low status as a maid, obviously no one had thought to provide some medical assistance to see whether or not it was possible to get her memory back, along with her speech.
"What is your name?" Dune asked the stunned maid. She scribbled for a moment on her blackboard, and held it up again.
I am Emilie, Your Majesty.
"Emilie," Dune said slowly, "Are you alright?"
The maid nodded briskly, and began picking up all the fallen goblets and placing them on her silver platter. Dune reached down to help her, sitting the final goblet on the platter once she had picked it up.
Emilie curtsied again, and with a nod, she hurried off down the corridor, back to the kitchens, he supposed. Dune continued on his way, trying to figure out if there was anyone who would be able to tell him about his family before their deaths, when he was hit with a stroke of inspiration.
He turned around, and began walking faster, almost jogging, towards the kitchens.
**************
Peter stared at the pastry, his eyes alight with mischief, as he prepared to swallow it whole. He was hidden in the pantry, away from the prying, but loving eyes of Trufflehunters lovely wife, Miss Honeyfresh. The badger was a mother-hen type figure, always determined to make the royal family (and her husband and everyone else in the castle) eat as much as possible.
She was the head cook in the palace kitchens, always in control of what she loved most: food. She, and her second in command, a motherly Telmarine woman named Yvonne, looked after the kitchens, and in turn, all the servants who lived in the palace.
Peter, consequently, was hiding from Yvonne and Miss Honeyfresh as he pigged out, hiddent away in the massive pantry, seeing as it was merely two hours until dinnertime, and he really should not have been snacking after his ridiculously large lunch.
He raised the pastry to his mouth, and took a big bite, leaving crumbs all over himself. He finished the pastry in a matter of seconds, forgetting about the telltale crumbs all over his shirt.
The King slipped from the pantry, heading straight for the door, when a high pitched voice cut into the hustle and bustle of the place.
"KING PETER I SEE THOSE CRUMBS!" Miss Honeyfresh screeched, waving her rolling pin as she inched towards him. Peter scooted from the kitchens as fast as he could, knowing that he would cop it later at dinner.
As he followed the corridor, he passed his son, who was heading for the kitchens with a determined look on his face.
"Miss Honeyfresh is going insane," Peter warned him as he passed.
"Only because you've been pigging out again, Dad," Dune responded without missing a beat. Peter scowled at him and continued on his way.
Dune edged through the door, where Miss Honeyfresh was fussing around, and crossed over to where he saw Emilie sitting at one of the large wooden tables, eating a meal that Yvonne was passing to her, fussing like a mother hen.
"You're far too skinny, deary, so eat up." Emilie was shovelling in the food, obviously starving. As Dune approached them, she looked up with wide eyes and a full mouth.
"Can I talk to you, please, Emilie?" Dune asked, and Emilie nodded.
Yvonne bustled away, over to help Miss Honeyfresh prepare dinner.
Dune took a seat next to Emilie, who looked at him curiously.
"I'd like to talk to you about my parents, if you remember them." Dune said.
Emilie pulled out her board, scribbling for a moment.
Well, technically I can't talk, Your Majesty.
Dune chuckled, and Emile smiled at him, before scribbling again.
And I do remember them.
"Really?" Dune asked. "Could you tell me about them?"
Emilie nodded eagerly, and began to scribble, but was interrupted by Yvonne's voice.
"I am sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty," the woman said, "But Emilie is needed."
Emilie leapt up, curtsying towards Dune. He looked at the table.
"I'll come back another day," he told Yvonne, and she beamed at him.
Though, that night, right before Dune went to sleep, he heard a rustle, and a slipping sound. He stood, and made his way over to the door of his chambers, where a small, tightly furled piece of parchment had been slipped under the door.
He unravelled it, to the first page, which was blank except for a small note.
Your Majesty,
I know you wanted to know about your family, so I wrote all I could remember.
I hope this makes your life feel a little less empty.
In your service,
Emilie.
That night, Dune didn't sleep much. He spent hours perusing the stories, the descriptions, and the pictures of his family as they were remembered by their servant, including very personal details about the way they talked, and the caring things they would say, including details about himself. He wondered how Emilie could have remembered everything, but then remembered himself that she must have been close to the family, otherwise Amelia wouldn't have trusted her to lead her to him.
He thanked Aslan that Emilie was here, and vowed to thank her as soon as time allowed in some way or another.
***********
Okays, so anonymous reviews: enabled.
So no excuses.
And I meant all I said in the above A/N.
So, yeah.