Title: Moon Promises
Author: GenNdMe
Beta: booksrgood4u
Rating: G
Genre: Drama?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in any of my stories. I’m just one of those people who talk to their imaginary friends.
Summary: A moon-lite dance brings one girl closer to the woman she will one day become and the choice she must eventually make.
Authors Notes: This is my first fanfic so please go easy on me. I’m enjoying writing them and will hopefully have another one (this time about Gen) written up soon. Much thanks to booksrgood4u for encouraging me and telling me how exactly one goes about fanfic-ing. God bless.
( Read more... ) Moon Promises
by GenNdMe
The guards let her pass. They barely even noticed her. Why should they? Up until recently she had been the spoiled daughter of a second wife. And soon she would be the daughter-in-law of their king’s most troublesome baron. Why would they even look twice at the slim, awkward girl? She was never going to rule them. She was just the thread that would tie the baron to the throne. No, the guards had no interest in one who would have no hand in their future.
She didn’t mind. Obscurity was all she asked for these days. Another lifetime ago, another her would have exhausted every means to procure attention. Attention from her father. Attention from her brother. Attention from anyone at all. But no longer. Ruefully, she contemplated how strange it was to so desperately want something just to abhor it the moment it was finally yours.The flower garden was peaceful and still in place of the festivities taking place inside. She had never been stared at by so many people for so long. The time had seemed to stretch on and on until she had wanted to stand up and scream simply in frustration. Managing to sneak away hadn’t been possible during the feast itself, nor the initial dancing afterwards. Only once her neoteric fiancé’s attention had wandered to the prettier women of the court had she achieved her escape.
At last she was able to allow her carefully maintained blank expression slip away and a scowl altered her plain features. In a sudden fit of impetuous fury, she shed one dainty slipper and threw it at a gently tinkling fountain. The slipper’s twin followed but instead landed, toe first, in the opposite hedge that formed the leafy corridor. The grass felt cool and inviting against her bare soles and she curled her toes delightedly, her rage discarded as quickly as her shoes in the face of this new joy. A radiant smile settled comfortably on her face. So rarely was she truly happy that she froze and reveled in the moment. The sounds of laughter and music could still be heard so she silently moved deeper into the garden.
Moonlight changed everything and transformed an ordinary sight into something enchanted before her wondering eyes. Eagerly, she partook, letting for this short time her former friends from lonely days reappear. The ease with which she could recall them took her breath away and she again smiled. They were all still here, as real to her as she was to anyone else.
Once, when she had been younger still, and freer yet, her carriage had passed by country peasants participating in a harvest festival. She could still remember the desperate ache in her chest as the scene had slowly, but all too soon, passed out of her sight forever. And yet, in her mind’s eye the peasants were still smiling at each other and dancing the harvest circle. All her life she had longed to join them. Before, she had been constrained by her nurse and the boundaries of protocol. After her brother had died, there had been no opportunity for privacy. And soon, she would be in a place as unfamiliar to her as it was unwanted. This was her last chance and she was not about to let it slip through her fingers.
The sound of raucous laughter broke into her happy stillness and her brow creased angrily. How dare they intrude upon her precious solitude! In disgust she turned and led her companions in an attempt to distance herself from the crowds celebrating her engagement. Just the thought of that dreadful ceremony darkened her features into a mask of hate. The feeling surprised her. How strange that one so young could hate so fiercely. She thought back to discern when exactly the feeling had first appeared. It had been during the ceremony, of that she was certain. Her mind alighted on the moment when her father had gravely taken her hand and placed it firmly into her husband-to-be’s, undeniably sealing her fate. Nervously, she had broken her bland façade and glanced up into her fiancé’s face. Malicious greed had never been personified so clearly. A foreign, roiling sensation in her stomach had almost brought her to tears and if she hadn’t torn her gaze away and deliberately fixed it on his coat buttons only the gods knew what would have happened. The memory caused a shudder to shake her frame. Yes, that had been the moment of hate’s birth. She would never marry him, she vowed, she would die first.
She frowned. How easily she had forgotten her former joy. Violently, she shed her anger and hate for the present. This was her last chance to have peace, not even his sneers would spoil it. A door loomed up in front of her and she hesitatingly lifted the latch to peek inside. It was the kitchen gardens. No one would venture here during the dancing. The smile again settled on her face. From the safety of this common resting place for fruits and vegetables, she would hear no laughter but her own. She would dance to no drumbeat but her own. She would smile at no one’s pleasure but her own.
The grass gave way to soft dirt and she lifted her pale skirts as she passed amongst the rows of cabbage into a small grove of orange trees. They were spaced far enough apart to allow easy movement but close enough to feel like many pairs of welcoming arms. Absently, she mourned how quickly this newfound friend would be stripped from her. How cruel the gods could be. She dismissed the thought before it could ruin her mood. Now was the time for celebration, her own private celebration. A celebration of solitude. She hesitated, unsure of how to start. So often had she imagined this exact moment that no one beginning could truly be worthy of this hallowed opportunity.
Her friends made the choice for her, her sisters starting the harvest circle so decidedly that she had no choice but to join in or be run over. Stretching her arms out in either direction, she clasped hands with them and started the simple steps. Around and around they went, sometimes coming together, sometimes moving apart. The young girl lifted her face to the heavens and smiled, a smile surfacing from a heart full of joy and sadness and bitter, bitter loneliness. The wind sang, the trees laughed, her skirts swirled, and the moon smiled as all creation, for one, single dance, sympathetically joined her.
Minutes seemed to slip past like running water and soon, too soon, her dance ended. The moon was disappearing behind the palace and with it went her magic. A small sigh escaped her as she slowed to a stop. Her skirts twisted around her ankles. She would be missed as the party inside came to an end. She sighed again. Never before had something felt as real and compassionate to her. She could still feel the eyes of her companions affectionately watching her. Never before had they felt so real. As if they were truly there with her in that tiny kitchen garden. Her mind reluctantly returned to her impending doom and she quailed.
Her steps lead her toward the door adjoining the flower garden but a sudden thought brought her to a halt. A wave of determination washed over her and a steely look crept into her eyes. No, she would never marry him even if the only escape lay in her own death. She would join her brother, no more than a month in his tomb. He might be surprised to see her so soon but she was sure he would understand.
Again she started for the door but again paused. Something, growing quietly in the hedge, caught her eye. It looked like a ruby flower but was not. It was a coleus leaf. An idea stirred in her mind and a slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Not the joyful, girlish smile of just a few moments before. This smile warned of the woman she would become. Not the plain, horrified girl she was now but a beauty, cold and calculating, one who would do anything to insure her future. One hand reached out and she plucked a single leaf to tuck into her sash. Why should she be the one to die? Oh yes, she promised her fiancé, one of us will die before we are wed but it may not be my body they lay in a tomb.
She reached the door leading out of the garden and turned round, her face already altered. One last time, the girl looked back at the plain kitchen gardens that had been her temporary confidant and the orange trees with their friendly arms. But it was the woman Irene who the moon and a single, silent observer watched depart that night.
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sick
busy
chipper
confused
