A/N: I recently posted a chapter on my secondary project, 'I Just Want a Vacation'. I got 6 reviews and I'm pissed.
Therefore, congratulations, this story has officially become my secondary project. I won't tell you to expect updates often, but definitely more frequently than my Zelda fic.
Chapter 5
I awake, slowly.
Oh thank god.
A dreamless night.
My nightmares… I was growing weary of them. They wore me down, such that night seemed even more fitful than day.
And I needed the rest. I was a dead man walking last night, after my endurance test of an initiation. I had meditated underneath that waterfall for three days, and two nights.
In fact I was amazed I had fallen asleep underneath that torrent at all, for even the brief time I had.
But perhaps that was it? Perhaps sheer exhaustion kept me from my dreams?
Perhaps it was my new stature as a Holy Knight.
I know not.
"Mna." Ovelia mumbles into my ear.
It tickles.
"Come on." I shake her awake. "The day's begun, Ovelia."
"Hm?" She answers groggily, before yawning grandly. "Oh my, that was a restful night." She said with a stretch.
Gone were all pretenses of shyness. At this point I may as well be a stuffed bear, for all the note she gave my presence in our bed.
"Alma was right." She added. "You really make a difference. I'm jealous now." She admitted. "I shall miss you when we part ways. My nights shall be cold, my thoughts clouded, and my ears shall miss the steady beat of your kind heart." She explains.
I stare at her, transfixed by her unusually forthcoming statement. Her matted hair and silly smile… they're ailments, I think, of her half-asleep state.
And they suit her. She looks very… real when she is all crumpled and tired, and honest.
She looks very real, and yet somehow too good to be so.
Of course, she then pales, and turns away with a start – breaking the spell.
That magical place of daybreak, between dreams and wakefulness, has passed.
Now the embarrassment settles in.
"Oh, erm, ex-excuse the words of a dreamer please, Ramza." She smiled weakly at me, over her shoulder.
"No." I return. "I was flattered. And if anything's to blame for boldness, then it must be my sister's influence."
She giggles fiercely at that. "Oh – Oh yes." She nods excitedly. "Well, I could hardly deny that."
Speaking of, the girl in question chose the moment to come in the door. "Good morn, brother." She greets. "I had the strangest experience."
I blink. "That's abrupt." I note. "But is that why you can be found up so early?"
She nods slowly. "I think…" She muses, as she narrows her eyes and sucks in her bottom lip slightly in consternation. "…That I may have taken up sleep-walking. I found myself this morning unconcious in the fields. It was most strange."
Strange indeed.
And dangerous.
Yes…
"We'll have to be careful then." I explain seriously, meeting a nod from her.
"And… brother…" She said, hesitantly, seeming to become shy as she pulled her hands from behind her back at last. "I had this with me."
Ovelia gasps, and with a lunge I snatch the stone from my sister's hands.
Damn.
Damn!
The stone. What did this mean?
It has targeted her. It is a thing that controls and lures. Both carrot and stick are its tools of trade. It is a con-artist. It is a liar. It is a thief. It tempts with all the right things, for all the wrong reasons.
So she ought to be quite resistant, being a cleric of faith, and with her personality.
It is most likely she broke free of its clutch before anything happened.
But best keep it away from her. Repeated assaults can weaken the greatest of fortifications.
I step back from her, slowly, not allowing my eyes to leave her face.
I search there, for some trace of… wrongness. I find none.
"When did you get it, Alma?" I asked.
"I…" she frowns… "I do not know. It was just there in my hands when I awoke. I don't recall ever taking it."
She walks towards me, and on reflex I turn so that the hand holding the stone is on my side, away from her.
Alma stops, hurt. "Brother. I didn't take it, I swear to you. Your trust is everything to me – I would never endanger it."
She steps closer.
I sigh.
"Alma… I don't mistrust you." I explain, reaching out and pulling on her until I can kiss her forehead. "I just worry."
A more permanent solution must be found.
But who could be trusted when all mankind is so susceptible to its wiles?
"I will have to ask father about it when we get back." I decide. Father was a paragon of good. Everyone said so. And he was family.
True, his illness was growing worse, but he claimed not to be overly bothered by our visits…
"That seems to me a good idea." Alma sighs in relief.
"You'll be fine." I reassure. "It will be sorted soon."
Ovelia rushes over, and the girls hug and extract some form of feminine sisterhood comfort.
"And I took such care to hide it, too…" I muse aloud.
"Brother." Alma stops me with a lopsided smile. "If you were using your old hiding place of beneath the mattress, please know that it is not nearly so cleaver as you imagine."
I stare at her agape.
She just shrugs.
…Well…
…Well that… sucks...
I was very proud of that location.
A new hiding place must be found…
…This is a challenge.
I shake my head with a start. "I will meditate on it later. We should get ready for the day."
"Our last together." Alma frowns.
"Yes." Ovelia affirms, sadly. "Our last."
"There." Ovelia says in satisfaction after just producing the low, slightly lonely, whistling tune that comes from the grass flute. "At last, and just in time." She says, quite evidently pleased with herself.
Alma has excused herself to (purposefully, and with a wink) leave the two of us alone.
Sir Guinevere has no need of me today either, as we are teacher and student no longer.
So I and Ovelia are left to sit by ourselves on this beautiful day, upon this open expanse of nature.
"And now, all my spluttering attempts up until this point have been utterly erased." She declared.
"No," I deny. "Sorry."
She frowns at me. "You said-"
"I know." I cut in. "And I'm trying to forget them, truly and earnestly." I assure. "But they really were very funny."
"You're teasing me." Ovelia gives me a flat look. "Is it alright if I slap you?" She asks.
"Probably." I admit.
"I don't feel comfortable with it." She decides at length. "Slap yourself, please."
I stare at her for some seconds, and she stares back expectantly.
I sigh, and do so.
She giggles at me. I smile wryly.
It takes some time for the mirth to die down.
Alma and I had grown closer to Ovelia over the weeks together. Well, the three of us we were young and with no one better at hand for company.
And we had been through a bloody night together, and left it bound in a common secret, as well.
Ovelia was remarkably naïve, and easily offended. But she held a certain honesty and nobility in her actions, and I found her quite sensible once I'd gotten to know her at length.
In all honesty, I felt we were good friends…
But perhaps we are trying a bit extra hard to be happy at the moment…
For we shall part ways today.
"I've been meaning to say this," Ovelia mentioned at last, "but I think we've been spending too much time about your sister."
"I have no denial for you." I admit. "We are being unusually silly."
"Yes." Ovelia nodded. "It is all her doing."
"I'll have to apologize on her behalf." I explain.
"Well I shan't ever forgive her." Ovelia denies. "I was a properly dour young lady before I met her."
"Were you?" I interject suddenly.
"Oh." Ovelia blinks, off-footed by the change in discussion. "Well, outwardly I was." She admits. "You see, I haven't had all that much interaction with people our own age before. I spent most of my time reading books and studying at monasteries. There was the rare party, I suppose," she mused with a strained smile, "but those aren't the same."
"So you haven't actually spent much time in the country." I surmise. "I see."
I had wondered at her lack of accent.
"Country?" She echoes. "Oh… yes."
And, strangely, she pulls up her knees to her chest as if she's cold. Then she rests her chin upon them and frowns slightly. "The country…" She whispers.
Perhaps she's homesick.
Or perhaps she doesn't want to go home.
I don't.
For all that has occurred here, much was gained as well.
A teacher whom I deeply admire, a clarity of philosophy, of course a sword skill…
…And…
"Ovelia." I say suddenly. "Can we go for a walk, perhaps?"
I guide her up the path towards an all-too-familiar spot for me.
"Oh." She says in surprise. "This is where you endured Sir Guinevere's trial, is it not?"
I clear my throat.
"Yes." I nod.
"And?" She asks.
And?
And….
And this shouldn't be so hard.
"And, well…" I fumble. "Well it seemed an appropriate place. Just yesterday, I was cursing its very existence but… it really is very beautiful." I explain, staring at her. "And it has come to put me at ease."
"I see." Ovelia nods. "Yes, it is rather majestic. Appropriate for what, though?"
I clear my throat again.
Just man up.
…Damnit.
"I'm sorry if this is awkward, Ovelia." I say sincerely, before dropping to one knee slowly. "Ovelia I've told you this before but I am an ignoble son. My parents were married under God, but my mother was a plebian." I explain. "I have common blood in me, Ovelia, and all my children shall have common blood as well. And their children, and so on, and so forth."
I break the rigid pose to awkwardly shift and adjust my shirt, looking down.
"I may be a Holy Knight now, I suppose." I allow. "But, that is a matter of membership to an order and does not afford me the actual rank of knight. Barring extraordinary service in – God forbid – a new war… I shall never hold the title of count or duke. In fact, I should be lucky if I ever make Baron. I think it's important that you know that, up front. And…"
And…
What was it again?
God, I've forgot my speech six sentences in.
There was a poem in there too, somewhere, courtesy of Alma's insistence.
Why is this so difficult!
You've always been a terrible poet anyways.
I take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.
"Well what I mean to say is that I've sent a letter to your parents in the country." I explain in a rush. "I've asked them for permission to court you, and I've come here to tell you straight away because… if you wouldn't like it Ovelia then we shall let that be the end to it." I say earnestly.
And it is then I dare to look at her face, for I must not turn away and say what I have to say next.
She seems to have a stunned, blank, expression. And in a fluff of skirt frills she plopps down to sit before my kneeling form, and continue to affix me with the same stunned look.
Okay. Don't panic.
That is neither good nor bad. It is simply unnerving, but that much I can bear.
Right? Right.
The battlefield is no place for regrets. There will be time enough afterwards.
Right.
"Ovelia, I find that you're a remarkably kind girl." I explain wholeheartedly. "And I think that you're quite clever. And you were as brave as anyone could ask that night with the rat, considering your background. And I find I can enjoy speaking with you at all hours of the day, and even openly." I'm rambling, but though I know this, I cannot stop. "And I find you rather sensible. And Alma likes you, of course, and though it might be odd that's rather important to me. And you also don't snore so much as her – in fact I think it's a bit cute."
Don't neglect the basics, fool!
"And you are very pretty!" I tack on in a rush. I would be an utter fool to miss that one. I cough into my fist fake-ly to stall for time. "So basically… I don't much savor the thought of you going away. In the end I just thought… well… that perhaps we could begin on a path where … we could be together permanently. It would make me very happy Ovelia, and I know that I don't have much that I can offer you… but I will do my best to make you happy too. I think that we… could make for a very happy family."
And such was more than I had ever expected, before I met her. That was why I was brought to this difficult time. I couldn't stand to let her just… go.
And now I have said my peace.
I have reached the point where I hold my breath.
Hold the line.
I will not bolt until I have been thoroughly shot down. I swear it.
And at last, I find a response from Ovelia.
With shaking hands, she reaches up towards her face. I fear she may try and cover a giggle or, worse, just slap me.
But she surprises me soundly when she opens her mouth wide and bites down on her right index finger.
After a quick jolt, she begins to shake her hand as if it were on fire. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." She complains quietly. "That hurt. That hurt?" She asked in wonder, staring at her finger. "I hurt myself."
"I saw." I agree. "I'm confused as to what type of signal that is meant to be."
I will not bolt until I have been thoroughly shot down.
I will not bolt until I have been thoroughly shot down.
How will I know if I have been thoroughly shot down or not?
"It's real…" She whispered. "Oh Ramza, you want to marry me?"
She reaches out, and using some feminine ability that really goes beyond my training to describe, she is before me in a flash.
"Oh Ramza, I never thought…"
She smiles sweetly as she holds my face in her hands, and pulls me close.
She is all silk, I think. Her dress is a frilly red silk, and her gloves a smooth white, and her lips.
And as she wraps her arms around me, and I instinctively hold her close upon my lap, I realize…
Gods, she's all silk.
"Wow," she says dreamily as she pulls away, before clearing her throat, "well, you're quite a good kisser."
"Am I?" I ask. "If you say so."
"Was I your first then?" She asks coyly. "You were my first."
"What a coincidence." I say.
I really am a bad conversationalist at the moment, but she has struck me dumb and I cannot recover.
She smiles at me brilliantly. "Will you be my second?" she asks.
I embrace her then, happy. I embrace the silk. I kiss the silk.
"That was my second." I admit when we part.
"M-Mine as well." Ovelia gasps breathlessly.
And together we say… "What a coincidence."
"Your third will be my third." She tells me as she smiles up at me sweetly.
"And your forth, my fourth." I swear.
"Again and again." Ovelia smiles. "Onto infinity."
"Well," I interrupt, embarrassment increasing by the subject, "we'll see. There is the matter of your parents. Mine surely won't care. Actually, this is a bit improper. We shouldn't have done that. I haven't permission. If your parents agree," I tell her, "then I shall visit you at your country estate whenever I can, and I shall attempt to win your favor properly." I promise. "With all the steps and everything. Even the dancing."
I shall take classes.
She seems ready to laugh at me, then, for obviously she finds me foolish. I have been a great fool today so there is not much defense on my part.
And then she stops, and her smile seems to evaporate like the morning dew.
I frown, and check over my shoulder, expecting some terrifying sight such as Sir Guinevere with a moral chastisement.
I see nothing but open sky, and turn back, confused.
"My country estate." She echoes in a strange, hollow tone. "My country estate… oh God." She gasps, gloved hand coming up towards her mouth. "Oh, God, no."
Ah. Don't tell me she's going to –
"Ow." She tells me hollowly.
She's bitten her fingers again. "It's real." She explains.
Yes. I see.
…No I don't.
"It can't be real." She whispers. "Oh, no. No, no. I never thought you'd return my affection. Not in the waking world. I pined and pined, and I held you in my dreams. When it happened for real, I was so overwhelmed I didn't think. I didn't think." She mutters.
And saying this confounding thing, she stands up and begins to pace. "Country estate? I'm not – I don't have a country estate!" She cried. "I could get one." She admits, mid-pace. "I suppose – yes, I think I could. No, that isn't the problem!"
I am very confused.
She freezes there, halfway through her ferocious pacing circuit, and stares at me. There, her fright exaggerates, and turns to horror. "Oh Ramza." She says. "Oh Ramza, it's all gone wrong. I can't… I should. I must." She tells me. "You're mine!" She yells, all of a sudden, horror never once leaving her face. And she reaches out to me, to almost take my face again in her silk gloved hands. And she stops. "I can't." She repeats. "It's all gone wrong."
"Ovelia, listen," I say as I stand, for now I must be a man if ever I will. I cannot bear to see her this way, "if I've done something wrong –"
But she has turned and fled, and it is quite some time before I become un-muddled enough to follow.
It is at the monastery grand double doors that I find Alma standing imperiously, hands on her hips. "Brother." She greets. "What have you done? Was your poetry that bad?"
"I forgot the poetry." I admit.
"She refuses to see you, she says little to me between all the sobbing, and she is inconsolable." Alma tells me. "I plan to banish you to the wilderness until her carriage arrives for her."
What is this pain in my chest… "Alright." I say, lamely.
It shouldn't have come to this. I had it all planned, with the full potential of all my considerable pessimism.
I knew she could take me or leave me, but I was certain when I set out this morning that I wouldn't make her cry.
How…
"What did you do?" Alma presses.
There is only one thing I can think of…
"I kissed her." I admit.
A harsh slap is my only reply.
"Go cool off under your waterfall, until I call for you." She tells me. "I will try to talk to her again."
Bewildered and lost, and utterly forsaken... I nod numbly and stagger off.
Ovelia deserved to be so very happy.
And it seemed I was a fool to think I could help in that.
A/N:
You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming.
And still, it just breaks my heart.
But there, setup complete.
This story is still refreshingly old-fashioned. When can you get away with teenagers worrying about marriage and propriety? Why, in ye olde history of course. Back when you couldn't divorce, shit was really important, and a miss-call meant a life of misery from which death was the only escape.
I want to thank you all for the fanfiction recommendations. Really appreciated it. Some of them sucked though. Or I just have exotic standards. Probably the latter.