I promise to get things back in order soon. I am halfway through this part of the story! Comments?
****Part II*****
I carefully climbed from my hiding place, and followed her back home. I was careful to climb up my own balcony. Once inside, I waited until I heard her soft footfalls as she passed my door. I again took to the shadows and followed her to our fathers study. The door was open, and candlelight flickered on the walls. Father was slouched in his chair, a large book open on his lap. Several more volumes littered his desk and the floor around him.
He looked up as my sister entered the room. She stopped just inside the doorway, and waited for him to acknowledge her, as is the custom. For, even though she was his daughter, he was still the king. He smiled and bid her enter.
“Ah! My lovely Eleri! To what do I owe the honor of your visit? The hour is late, and I myself should have been asleep hours ago.” He smiled and motioned for her to have a seat.
“I am just worried that you are working too hard, Father.” She smiled demurely, her drawn face the picture of concern and worry. She sat on a small stool next to my father, and laid her head on his knee, much as we once did as small children, listening to his tales of strength and valor. A twinge of jealousy and disgust tugged at my chest. After what I had just seen, I knew that she had a hidden motive to her visit.
Father disentangled a knot in her hair as he absently stared at the flames dancing on the hearth. His eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and his coronet seemed to lie heavily on his brow. “I can not rest while your Mother weakens. Her appearance has not changed, but she no longer recognizes me. I fear she shall not last much longer.” His sigh shook his entire body. “She shall be called to the Halls of the Dead soon, and only the Creators know when or if I shall join her.”
Mother had been slowly wasting away before our eyes. Over the course of three full seasons, Healers, Wise Ones, Physics, Conjurors, and madmen from far and near came to the palace in hopes of dispelling what ailed her. They cast spells and administered potions and poultices. Runes were drawn, incense burned, and many charts, scrolls and books were consulted. When one attempted to apply leeches to her temple, Father ordered a halt to the madness and began his own research. Mother’s spirits never waned, but as the days passed, she rarely found the strength to leave her quarters.
Eleri reached a slim hand to his cheek and caught a silvery tear. She took the tainted flower from her hair and laid it in his lap. My stomach began to curdle as I remembered how it had attained its color.
“What is this, my daughter? Where did you find such a beautiful bloom? I have never laid eyes upon its equal.” He held the delicate flower gently in his hand as he marveled at its beauty.
“Oh, it is just something I found in the woods today. Its scent is like no other, and I thought it would please you.” She was still seated at his knee, so she tilted her face towards him with a small smile that curved wickedly at one corner of her lips.
Father returned her smile and held the flower to his nose. As he inhaled, his eyes closed, and the lines of worry melted away from his face. An intoxicating scent emanated from the flower and began to fill the room. Its heady fragrance assaulted my senses. If I had not been leaning against the wall behind the door, I would have surely fallen.
With a sigh, Father looked up from the flower in his hand. His blue eyes now brilliant and feverish in the flickering light seemed too hectic to be real, while his once pale cheeks seemed infused with color. “Surely this flower is from the great gardens of Inis Mór. Its scent is refreshing and eases my cares.”
“I would bring you another, if you would but grant me a boon Father.” Eleri said coyly as she looked up at our father through her long lashes.
“You have only to name it. If it is within my power to so, I shall grant it to you.”
My sister eagerly stood up, and leaned forward to name her request. Although my hearing is sharp, I was unable to discern her wish. Long minutes passed as I strove to hear what she said. I could not read my Father’s expression, and Eleri’s face was hidden by tendrils of hair that had come loose from her braid. When she was finished, she resumed her seat at his knee to await his answer.
For a few moments it appeared as if the spell my sister had woven into the flower had lost its charm. Father’s eyes became dark, and it appeared as if he were battling some inner demon. Seeing this, my sister laid her hand on his and muttered words which I dare not repeat. The enchantment held, and with a smile he spoke in a hollow tone.
“So shall it be. How thoughtful of you to think of your sister as well. I shall tell Addfwyn of our plans in the morning.”
“No Father. Let us surprise her at the banquet.” She wheedled.
“As you wish, Eleri.” He planted a kiss on her forehead then stared idly at the book that still lay open in his lap.
“I beg my leave of you for the evening then, Father.” She rose, and swept low into a formal curtsey before him.
Father nodded his acquiescence. She rose and planted a kiss on his cheek. Remnants of her own blood still stained her lower lip. As she drew back, she passed her fingers across his eyes. “Sleep well, and let none disturb your slumber until Dawn heralds the arrival of the Sun.” As soon as she uttered the simple spell, Father was fast asleep. His breathing became shallow, but the misery that had masked his face was absent. For that I was thankful.
RagDoll posted at 8:41 PM
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Thie bit is really out of order here, but it was begging to be written, so I jumped ahead a bit and began it. I have not decided just what relationship this character will have with Muirin, but it will be one of the many stories that she will hear.
It began as a song lyric wraparound of In The Air by Phil Collins. I do these either to clear my mind, take a break from 'Last request', or to get me back on track.
Oh yeah. What I failed to mention, was that this is the product of a nasty cold and lots of Nyquil and Airborne. You can dose me up with Darvocet, Motrin, Tordal and other prescription fun stuff, but they dont shake my brain like Nyquil does! This fairytale was inspired by a Nyquil dream...
*********The Frog Princess
The evening air seemed to claw at my lungs, causing them to burn. Is it possible to breathe too much? I felt as if I had been running for hours, although I had been clinging to the bole of an ancient oak for what seemed like an eternity. Perhaps I should not have delayed my return. But I had to be sure it was safe! Who am I kidding? My fear kept me from running. It kept me hidden in the trees until I knew she was gone.
How long I stayed in the tree, I do not know. Each time I convinced myself to let go of the tree and return to the city, waves of nausea washed over me. It seemed as if the very earth itself was spinning around at an alarming rate. I could not tell the difference between the earth and the sky, so I clung fast to the tree and pressed my forehead to its bark. At length I finally slid down, determined to tell my tale. I no longer cared what would come of it. I had kept it to myself for too long. How many times must I witness her cruel ritual before I went mad? Perhaps I was already mad. How much longer could I keep my secret?
Five long years had already passed since she had sworn me to silence upon pain of death. She knew I would obey. Ever since the cradle, and perhaps since we shared a womb, she had shown herself to be stronger than I. She was even born first. She would laughingly jest that she had pushed me out of the way in order to be the eldest. I did not doubt her words. Never would I dream she would take it this far. I had to stop her. She had already gone too far.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lordI've been waiting for this moment, all my life, oh lordCan you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord, oh lordAs I drew closer to the gates of the city, I slowed my pace. I had been running the entire time, afraid that if I stopped running, I would lose my resolve. Once I was in sight of the gates, I hid behind a large tree and nervously began to smooth the front of my dress in an effort to rid myself of the bits of dried grass and leaves that were clinging to it. I was startled by a small tree frog that jumped onto my wrist as I smoothed my pocket. I idly wondered where he had come from and concluded that he must have crawled into my pocket while I was hiding in the oak tree. I marveled at his brilliant color and the almost human like way he was looking at me. His eyes were an odd honey brown color. I decided to keep him for good luck, as my sister had a deep loathing for frogs. If I had known then, what I know now, I would have named her loathing a fear. I deposited a kiss on his forehead and placed him gently in my pocket. As I did so, I thought I heard a sigh. Could it have come from the frog? My mother used to tell me stories of enchanted princes who were freed from their frog forms by a simple kiss. But those were childhood fancies, and I chalked it up to the soft breeze that floated by.
Well, if you told me you were drowningI would not lend a handI've seen your face before my friendBut I don't know if you know who I amWell, I was there and I saw what you didI saw it with my own two eyesSo you can wipe off the grin, I know where you've beenIt's all been a pack of liesI stood there for several moments, lost in contemplation as I idly stroked the frogs smooth back with my thumb. My hand rested in my pocket as he nestled against my curled fingers. His tiny 'chin' rested upon my forefinger as I thought. Again, I thought I heard a sigh. But as I listened carefully, all I could hear was a soft 'chirrup-chirrup-chirrup' emanating from the tiny amphibian in my hand. Inevitably, my mind wandered back to the memory that haunted both my dreams and waking moments.
On the eve of our sixteenth birthday, I noticed my sister slip out into the inky night. It was near midnight, and I thought it odd that she should sneak out of her bedroom window dressed in her best gown. I ran out onto the balcony, only to see her disappear among the trees that lined the edge of the garden. I hastily leaped from the low balcony onto the soft carpet of grass below me. I had learned to be as agile as a cat, never knowing when my sister would lose her temper next. I did not wish to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
I silently followed her for what seemed like hours. I flitted from shadow to shadow, just barely keeping her in sight. Only once did she turn around. Already I could see a change in her appearance. Her once fair form seemed pinched and skeletal in the moonlight. As she turned towards me, to look over her shoulder, her once soft features seemed to jut out at odd angles. Oddly enough, her eyes were brilliantly crisp and bright, even in the dim light. I chastised myself for not noticing these things sooner. The only things I had worried about were her diminished appetite and her increased bouts of rage that would have put an injured dragon to shame.
Just as a sickle shaped moon rose above the treetops, we came upon a small clearing surrounded by brambles and fern. I nimbly scaled a nearby oak tree. As she approached the edge of the clearing, she waved her right hand and the brambles parted, giving her just enough room to pass by. As soon as she stood in the clearing, the brambles wove their branches together, leaving no trace of an opening. From my vantage point, I could see every detail of the strange clearing.
In the center of the clearing was a tiny pond. It was more of a puddle with a few rushes growing from it. Next to the pond was a large flat boulder. Besides these things, there was nothing but grasses and a few patches of clover. I could not even venture a guess as to her purpose.
She produced two pouches from the folds of her dress and placed them on the rock. Out of the first bag, she removed a white flower, a dagger and a small vial. From the second bag, she removed a large bull frog and held him fast in one hand. Of all that I had seen so far, the frog surprised me the most. For, as I have mentioned, my sister had an aversion to frogs. I did not think it possible that she should be able to carry one, especially among the folds of her dress. I thought no more of it, and returned my attention to my sister.
By now she had her back to me, and I could no longer see what she was doing with the items she had produced from the pouches. A sickening mist began to creep along the floor of the clearing, and a wild chorus of frogs began to emanate from the tiny pond. I could have sworn that the frog was begging her to let him go. A dreadful deep croak could be heard above her manic laughter. I jumped a bit in spite of myself as the bull frog suddenly leapt free of her grasp and landed in the middle of the pond among the rushes.
My sister laughed, and told the frog that it was of no consequence. She no longer had a use for him. She also told him that he would have more company very soon. I did not like the way she said so, and pressed myself further against the tree as I continued my watch. I noticed that she now clasped the dagger in her right hand. Its tip was now stained with what I could only assume was the frog’s blood. She raised the dagger over her head, and drew it across her left palm. I suppressed a gag as she held her palm to her lips. She then held the vial to her wrist and allowed the blood to drip from her hand. Once she had filled it, she pressed the flower to her palm. When she pulled it away, there was no indication of what she had just done. She smiled as she tucked the now scarlet bloom into her hair.
She gathered her things and concealed them once more among the folds of her dress. She returned to the brambles and exited the way she came. Once again, the brambles closed behind her and she did not turn back as she made her way back to her room.
Watch this space for the REST of the story!
RagDoll posted at 10:58 PM
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