AN: Boom. The next chapter should be up tomorrow, or the next day. Or the day after that, I'm a busy girl, you know...
The castle loomed over us as we made our way across the grounds to the heavy, guarded doors.
"It's a lot larger than I remember it." I commented, biting my lip. I had gone over the plan in my head a thousand times but now, being here, seeing how utterly huge the place was, I was painfully aware of the fact that Arya and I were just two girls. Two girls against an army of guards and the monster who commanded them.
"Breathe, Katharean...I mean...milady." Arya smirked, clearly amused with the pretence that she was my maid. "We have everything under control. All you have to do is smile and dance. I will be quick."
Her words calmed me a little, but there was no stopping the adrenaline which coursed through my veins as we climbed the front steps to the entrance. There were two guards positioned on each side of the doors and I fixed the one closest to me with my best lady-of-the-manor stare as I presented him with the invitation in my silk-gloved hand. The gloves had been Selena's idea, and a fine idea at that. As soon as she suggested them, I could not believe that I had forgotten about my gedwey ignasia...I suppose I was just so used to it being there that I did not think twice about the damage that would be done if anybody so much as glimpsed it.
The guard looked from the invitation to me, and then to Arya behind me.
"Do not pay any mind to her." I drawled, arrogantly, waving a hand dismissively towards Arya. "She is my personal maid. I bring her everywhere with me...it is the fashion, don't you know..."
"Very well, my Lady. Enjoy the ball." He replied, flashing me a crooked grin as he gestured for me to pass. Okay...we are in.
Obsidian had demanded to be informed of everything that happened, as it happened. I did not doubt that some of the nerves I felt were actually his. I knew that he hated not being here with me.
As soon as we stepped over the threshold, the sound of slow but upbeat orchestral music met my ears. The ball was already under-way, as I had hoped it would be. More people meant more camouflage.
You know where you are going? I asked, not daring to ask the question aloud for fear that we were being watched, even in the seemingly empty entrance hall.
I have the map memorised. Arya replied, confidently. She did not even sound nervous.
And the vial?
It is safe and hidden. Your weapon? She asked, in a business-like tone.
I have a dagger in my boot and a short-sword strapped to my thigh. I said, relishing in the comforting feeling of the heavy metal resting against my leg. Just in case.
You are wearing boots? She asked. Her tone was almost impossible to read, but I could swear she was mocking me.
And leggings. But nobody else has to know that. This skirt is big enough to hide an artillery of weapons, nobody will notice that I am not wearing pretty shoes. I insisted. If things go South and I have to fight, I'd rather not do it in a dress.
I suppose it is better to have them and not need them than the alternative.
My thoughts exactly. We came to the doors of the ballroom and I turned to her.
This is where I leave you. Good luck in there. She said, flashing me a quick, hopeful smile. I nodded.
And to you. Remember...stealth is the key.
Said the human to the elf. She replied, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. I grinned.
Good point well made. I'll be waiting for you.
She turned on her heel and strode quickly down the hall which, I knew, would lead to a set of stairs taking her to the lower level and, after a few more turns and and another set of stairs, the dungeons and the reservoir. I resisted the urge to sweep the tunnels with my mind in search of the guards, knowing that she would be doing the same thing and that she was more than capable of handling herself. I watched her until the train of her dress whipped around a corner and out of sight, and then I turned to face the doors. I reached out for the handle, taking a final, deep breath and straightening my shoulders.
Into the lion's den. I muttered to Obsidian. Here goes nothing
I wrenched the door open, much harder than I meant to, but my nerves got the better of me and I lost control of my strength for a moment, and I thanked my lucky stars that nobody seemed to notice. I walked forward, momentarily mesmerised by the scene before me. It was like walking into a dream: my dream, for I had seen this all before, in my vision...the golden hall was alive with the whirling of brightly coloured dresses and the swell of music. Despite myself, I felt a smile of wonder spread across my face at the beauty and the colour and the life that seemed to fill the hall.
It was easy to pretend that this was not the source of everything I despised. It was easy to pretend that this was a place of joy and laughter. It was easy to pretend my life was not in danger every second that I stayed.
It was easy to pretend, until I saw him. At the far end of the gleaming hall, a golden, cloth-covered banquet table stretched from wall to wall, raised slightly above ground-level on a platform of marble and in the centre, surveying the room, sat Galbatorix. He was the only person in the hall who did not wear a mask, instead sporting the smug, self-satisfied look of a man who had everything he could possibly desire, and the knowledge that nobody had the power to challenge him. Anger and fear clutched at my heart, searing through the walls of my self-control like acid.
Keep it together, Katharean. Obsidian warned, fearfully. Keep it together.
He...
I know, but keep it together anyway. You knew he would be here.
I knew that he was right. But knowing something and actually experiencing it are two very different things.
Keep it together anyway. I repeated Obsidian's words like a mantra in my mind, tearing my eyes away from Galbatorix and striding purposefully to the edge of the dance-floor, where a banquet table identical to the one the King sat at ran the length of the wall, adjacent to his own. It was almost completely covered with large, golden platters of every kind of food I could think of, in such abundance that the golden cloth underneath was barely visible. I knew that there was no way I could actually eat anything: I was having a hard enough time trying to swallow the bile that rose in my throat every time my eyes flickered back to the terrible man at the head of the room, but it was better than standing in the doorway drawing attention to myself, exactly like I promised I wouldn't do.
Keep it together anyway. I took a deep breath in and released it slowly, the way birthing mothers are taught to, and tried to be as subtle as possible about doing so. I reached a hand to my face, self-consciously checking that my mask was still firmly in place.
"May I take your coat, my Lady?" A polite, masculine voice asked from behind me. I spun around to face the servant, who sported a simple, black mask which did little to hide the concern that grew in his eyes at what must have looked like very odd behaviour. I snapped myself out of my daze and flashed him my best, winning smile, which he returned with relief.
"Yes. Thank you." I said, unfastening the black velvet cloak which I wore around my shoulders and handing it to him. He made no attempt to hide it as his eyes wandered over my now bare shoulders and partly-exposed cleavage, and I shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his gaze. He seemed to remember himself when I cleared my throat, pointedly, and he shook his head, taking my cloak from me with a swift bow.
"Thank you, milady. And may I be so bold as to say that my Lady is by far the most beautiful woman at the ball tonight." He said, in a well-trained, careful tone. I bowed my head in gratitude, and he smiled and walked away backwards, bowing as he went.
"Men." I muttered under my breath, shaking my head a little.
"Not all men are so bold in the presence of a lady." Came an unfamiliar voice from behind me, and I turned to see a young nobleman. "But I dare say that you stole the poor man's senses with those eyes of yours."
"Oh." I laughed, nervously, and he laughed with me.
"Ah...apparently all men are so bold...forgive me, my name is Nathaniel." He said, with a brilliant smile. He was handsome, as far as I could tell with half of his face covered by a royal-blue mask, with skin the colour of caramel, pale blue eyes, sandy-blonde hair and dimples at the corners of his mouth that deepened pleasantly when he smiled. Not exactly my type because...well, because he wasn't Murtagh, but he seemed friendly enough.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Nathaniel." I said, politely, offering a gloved hand, which he kissed lightly.
"The pleasure is all mine, Lady...?"
I smiled, in what I hoped was a flirty way. While I was here, I may as well play my part, and Nathaniel was as good a cover as any.
"Surely the point and the beauty of a masquerade ball is that it is a lady's prerogative to remain a mystery, don't you agree?" I asked, with a slow smile.
"The ways of women have always been a mystery to me, masquerade ball or otherwise." He replied with a good-natured laugh. "But very well, I will respect your mystery. But what then shall I call you?"
"Call me what you will, good sir. I cannot see that it makes a difference." I said, with a humorous smirk. He smiled, roguishly.
"Well then...if that is what I must do, I shall call you draumr...for that is surely what you are." He said, with an air that made me suspect he was quite confident I did not know what draumr meant. I could have played the ignorant maiden and batted my eyelashes, asking him to translate, and pretending to be impressed by his knowledge of the Ancient Language. In fact, it is almost certainly what I should have done, but my pride spoke before reason could catch up.
"I assure you, good sir, that I am as real as the air we breathe." I replied, without thinking. It was difficult to tell behind the mask, but I thought it looked as though he raised his eyebrows at my words.
"There are few among us who are versed in the Ancient Language..." He commented, appreciatively, and I silently cursed my indiscretion, but he did not seem to be concerned or suspicious...quite the opposite, in fact. "Well, Draumr...real or imagined, you are quickly becoming the most interesting woman I have ever met."
I felt a blush rise in my cheeks at his words and I laughed, bashfully.
Oh, little boy, you have no idea...
"Well, since I do not know your name, and my attempt to impress you with ancient words has fallen flat, can I call you my partner for the next dance?" He asked, smoothly, just as the music changed pace and became slower.
"I would be honoured." I replied, allowing the well-trained words to trip effortlessly from my tongue without a moment's thought. He turned towards the dance-floor with a smile, raising an arm for me to take. I placed the palm of my hand over the tops of his fingers, in the traditional fashion, and he led me into the middle of the floor, positioning one hand on the small of my back, but in a proper, respectful manner, and taking one of my hands in his, and we joined in with the twirling and weaving couples around us, just one more streak of colour and laughter in the tapestry of movement and light that adorned the dance-floor.
As we danced, the conversation dwindled, and I found that the repetitive motions of the dance did little to distract me as I fell into the familiar steps I had been taught since childhood, and I found myself craning to steal glances of Galbatorix, and the more I did, the more the feeling of unease worked it's way back into the pit of my stomach. I desperately wanted to reach out to Arya, to ask her if she was okay, if she had reached the reservoir yet, but I dared not open my mind for fear of exposing it to Galbatorix and Maker knows who else he might have in his employ with the power of sorcery. So I settled for worrying in silence, smiling cheerfully every now and then when Nathaniel caught my eye so as to avoid the inevitable questions.
The music picked up again and the dance quickened and changed, and Nathaniel groaned, throwing his head back dramatically in the throws of the fast-paced dance.
"What's wrong?" I asked, and he shook his head, laughing.
"Nothing! It's just...this is a progressive dance." He replied, rolling his eyes. "We will have to change partners."
No sooner had he said the words than he spun me around, letting go of my hand while I was in mid-twirl, and another set of foreign hands caught me at the other end of it, and I found myself dancing with an older, portly gentleman with a large grey moustache. I smiled, politely, in way of greeting, before he started to fling me about, galloping across the dance-floor with a fervour that I would not have believed a man of his years and build could possess. I laughed in exhilaration as we continued on like this, galloping and spinning, moving from partner to partner. I realised that for the first time in as long as I could remember, I was actually having fun. How strange, that I would feel so carefree, here of all places? How strange that I should find myself laughing and twirling and bounding around like a child when I knew that I was in the belly of the beast, with only a few feet separating me from the one person who could shatter my whole world? How strange...and yet it was effortless.
I spun around the dance-floor, this time with a very tall, younger gentleman who seemed as thrilled with the merriment as I was, laughing and practically skipping across the floor. He twirled me and I threw myself into the movement, spinning around and falling into the arms of my next partner.
But the second that I met his eyes, my laughter stopped. My dancing stopped, and so did his. We almost sent a young couple flying as they very nearly danced right into us, but neither of us moved, or even looked up at the angry exclamations. My laughter stopped, my dancing stopped, my heart stopped...time stopped. And neither of us could do anything but look into the other's eyes. I knew that I wanted to speak, that there were things I needed to say to him and questions I wanted to ask, but my mind was not cooperating. The dancing around us ground to a halt as the final bars of the song played, and there was a round of applause for the band. The last few, long notes of the song became the beginning of something else, something slow and molten that I had never heard before, but which, at the same time, I felt I knew better than any song.
And then we moved, together, slowly stepping in time with each other, revolving slowly and liquidly around each other. The song was beautiful: complicated, but simple somehow; new and old, all at once. It was fast and slow; it was melancholy and joyful; it was close and distant; it was bitter and heartbreakingly sweet. It touched the very corners of my soul and invaded the deepest recesses of my being. The song was me. The song was Murtagh. The song was us, or we were it, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he was touching me, looking at me, feeling me as I felt him. And when he spoke, his words became a part of the song, as if it would not have been complete without the accompaniment of his voice.
"Katharean...what are you doing here?" He breathed, incredulously, the depths of his brown eyes swimming with a mixture of fear and longing.
"Dancing." I replied, stupidly, before my brain had time to engage. He didn't reply, but his gaze hardened a little, so very slightly that I doubted anybody else would have noticed. But I knew those eyes better than I knew my own. I forced a small smile. "I...I came..." I sighed, shaking my head. "It's a long story. But I thought I might see you here...I hoped for it." I confided, gazing up at him.
"I...cannot pretend that I am not pleased to see you, Katharean..." He chuckled, and the sound sent shivers up my spine. The good kind of shivers. The kind of shivers that people spend their whole lives waiting to feel. "Pleased is not the word. I thought the next time I saw you would be on the battlefield...it has kept me awake nights, thinking about that...but this...do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here? Do you know what Galbatorix will do if he finds you here? What he will force me to do? You have to leave, Kath...you have to get out while you still can. I cannot protect you here, I am powerless against Galbatorix. If anything were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself."
"I am quite aware of the dangers, Murtagh." I purred, soothingly. "But some things are worth risking everything for."
"What could possibly be worth putting yourself in harm's way? In your condition..." He asked, disbelievingly, snaking the hand that held my lower back around to cradle my stomach, tenderly. I blinked in confusion, but it took less than a second for me to put the pieces together. Suddenly, so much of what I had not understood about my visions of Murtagh made sense, and as soon as they did, they simultaneously made absolutely no sense whatsoever. I frowned, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
"Murtagh...why do you think I am pregnant?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly. He blinked, suddenly looking just as confused as I felt.
"Why do...Galbatorix...I heard him talking to one of the Lords...he said something about the "Athem girl's infant son"...I thought...after we...after you and I..." He stuttered, shaking his head. I fought the urge to reach out and cup his cheek, fearing the attention it would draw.
"Murtagh...he wasn't talking about me...he was talking about..." My heart stopped and my eyes widened. My blood froze with fear. It was a fear that I had never known before, and it was not for myself. Selena...
Cailan.
"Murtagh...this is very important, what exactly did Galbatorix say about the child?"
"I couldn't hear everything...he was talking about leverage...about using your father, sister and the child as leverage...to force you to join him...I knew that he might try to use your family against you, but I did not know that there was a child involved. He said something about visions. And he said the words "Hljodr adurna"...but I don't know what he meant by it...Katharean...Katharean, are you okay?"
I closed my eyes, fighting for the breath that had been knocked out of me.
"I do..." I whispered, hopelessly. "I know what he meant. Hljodr adurna...they thirst and fall...Galbatorix was never going to do anything to the water...he planted those visions in my mind...so that I would come here..." I looked up at Murtagh, whose horrified expression mirrored my own. "This was all a trap. And I walked right into it."
Upon some kind of signal that I had not seen, the music screeched to a halt, and the nobles around us slowed to a stop, with exclamations of disappointment and confusion. I closed my eyes, turning around to face the top table.
Galbatorix stood out of his seat, smirking at me. He raised two, leather-clad hands and clapped, slowly, cruelly.
"Well done, Lady Athem. Well done...it only took you...a little longer than I expected to figure it out."
AN: Thanks for reading. Please review! I'd like to know what you thought, and what you want to happen next! I try to take it all on board when I'm writing so if you have an idea, let me know!
This chapter was originally a lot longer, but I cut it in half and turned it into two chapters because I just felt like it flowed better as two separate chapters, so the next one's pretty much finished, I just have to finish it off, so you won't have to wait too long for the next installment.
So stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Dragon Ball Z! Oh wait, wrong story...
x