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Reverie
Nov 20, 2004 20:37:15 GMT -5
Post by Willow on Nov 20, 2004 20:37:15 GMT -5
Willow lay curled with sleepless excitement. She awoke from the fuzzy liquid world of dreams. The one place she understood. Curtains were drawn, so the light penetrated through the thick stained glass windows and shone onto her small delicate form. She was disappointed to awake still a child. Her nanny removed a silk striped dress, complete with velvet fixings, from her wardrobe and placed it neatly beside her. “Rise and shine dumpling! Your mother, The Queen, will be waiting for you. You don’t want to make her impatient...do you Aria?” Willow rubbed at her eyes, coaxed from sleep, trying to wake herself fully. Why did nanny always remind her, that her mother was The Queen? She wouldn’t likely forget. She spied the dress, she loved that dress. How she liked to fondle the velvet and pose for the castle guards. Or anyone else bored enough to admire. She was taught at a young age, how to impress a crowd. Mama had promised it would be a very special day. They were to spend the afternoon together. She puckered her bottom lip forward. The dress reminded her of the party that was canceled only moments earlier…the festival….how she wished she could see everyone. There would be trays of chocolate, music and dancing. She loved chocolate. It brought back memories of Uncle Theo. She enjoyed the silver wrapper that came with it as much as the chocolate itself. Even more-so….the comfort of her uncle. She would sit on his lap, and with eager ears, listen to his tall-tales of adventure. Maybe she would even catch a glimpse of the mystical dragon she had grown fond of. Willow dressed herself in small jewels, enough to cause gossip, along with her favored dress. She would venture into the Greater Hall. There would be a cluster of women and men. Relatives, and neighboring royalty, who were dealing with their current war…Willow soon wished for her mothers face within the sea of royal titles.
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Reverie
Nov 20, 2004 22:40:27 GMT -5
Post by Kahlan Lothair on Nov 20, 2004 22:40:27 GMT -5
The sea would part as it often did for the princess. In her wake there would be whispers, gossip, and all sorts of comments fluttering in the breeze. How much she looked like her father, they would say. No, no, her mother! Others would argue. Yet there was no doubt, the child was of the Lothair-O'Freiden bloodline. As the nobles part and make way for the princess the voice of Kahlan can be over heard.
"...I dont care how you manage to get it done. Just do it. I want these preparations to go much smoother than our last set." Her voice was heated and full of authority. As Willow would round the corner and find the Throne Room even more clogged with noblemen and her mother in the center of it all on the raised dais, it was evident that Kahlan wanted out. She had a promise to keep and she intended to do so.
Clad in a simple gown of pale green which accentuates the red in her hair, she rises to her feet and points to a noble. "You there, I want you to continue this meeting. I have made a promise to my daughter, and I intend to keep it." The throng of people, knowing well to stay on Kahlan's good side in this type of mood and knowing that the only thing that would ever calm her down would be her daughter, they simply let her go. The crowd parts as it does for Willow, only a respective hush falls over the crowd.
The simple sweep of her gown makes Kahlan all the more appealing in it. She had good bone structure and her body was not lacking the appropriate curves. It did not help that she was an elegible bachelorette either, eyes watched her every move and the ladies of court would have her marry for their personal gains. Not something she looked highly upon.
Glancing up for the first time through her contemplation, she spies the crowd parting, getting on her tip toes to see who it is she finally discerns that it must be Willow so she quickens her step.
"Willow? Aria is that you? Come quickly dear, let us leave before they find a reason for me to stay!"
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Reverie
Nov 20, 2004 23:17:48 GMT -5
Post by Willow on Nov 20, 2004 23:17:48 GMT -5
Being a notable higher rank, Willow would kiss the left and right cheek of every desirable individual. She was taught every manner a Princess ought to have. It was for her very survival. Willow was an observant child, in the fact that, she knew a marriage would be arranged for her at an early age. She had to put on the best impressions and most likable behavior. She curtsied before the lesser ranked and made a bee-line for her mother in a swift elegant motion. Showing respect for her audience, she gave a deep curtsied bow before her mother. In which she took hold of her hands, tenderly holding her mothers. Bowing her head in mocking prayer, she acknowledged her mother as the Queen. It was all for show and Willow had to bite down on the inside of her lower lip to suppress giggles. Nanny would scold her for not doing the ritual and make her memorize some awful history lesson. She turned to her audience and gave another deep curtsy and soon turned away with her mother. Willow admired her mother, having heard her soprano voice giving orders, making the people panic themselves into a flurry. She cupped her mothers hand in hers, gripping for life, so that she wouldn’t be swallowed by the mass of people. “Mama, they say I am Shaine’s seed. What is Shaine?” Willow might pretend to be deaf, but she could very well hear. She had overheard the maids gossiping in the women’s quarter. She had heard the name Shaine and hers combined. Now that Kahlan and Willow were out of ear-shot, from the rest of the crowd, she bluntly asked the curious question. Willow had also learned of sex from an early age. Unfortunately she engaged in conversation with the maids. Willow always asked them detailed questions; only to receive detailed answers in return. She didn’t understand the term ‘seed’ and thought of it as a bad thing. She gave the look of wonder to her mother, expecting a graphic explanation as the maids might give.
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Reverie
Nov 20, 2004 23:55:27 GMT -5
Post by Kahlan Lothair on Nov 20, 2004 23:55:27 GMT -5
When they are on their own and Willow asks her the question she knew would be coming one day... Somehow she thought it would be asked in a different way. 'Seed' wasnt exactly what she had expected to hear coming from her daughter, thus it causes Kahlan to flush slightly. She draws Willow outside and shuts the door behind them. She tries to formulate an answer that is fitting for her daughter.
Rubbing a thumb over the soft flesh on the back of her daughters hand she finally looks down to her and pulls her to a stop next to a bench. Lowering herself down onto the bench until she is eye level with her daughter, long waves of fiery gold hair tumble down from a few pins that had precariously held the mass of mane up. Ignoring the fact that her hair is now down and blowing gently in the breeze, she brings Willow close and touches her chin gently with a fingertip. "Shaine was someone very special to me. He was a man, a very good man. He married Mama six years ago, Aria." Pausing for a moment to let the memory of that time pass through her and make her smile, she looks to Willow again.
Running her right hand over Willow's brown locks she smiles a little more, this time misty eyed. "Baby girl, Shaine was your father. You were born the day that I found out that he passed through the veil between life and death. He watches over you everyday." Fighting the tears that want to well in her eyes she smiles instead. "You mean everything to me Aria, and you remind me of your father. He was a great man and he would be so very proud of you." Reaching down she wraps her arms around the girl and pulls her close for a hug. Her fiery hair begins to mingle with Willow's brown. Kahlan smells subtly of roses as often she does.
"Now, tell me who told you something so crude. You are not to be ashamed of your lineage my darling, and I am sure you have heard 'Seed' being used in a bad way. This is not true, you are a wanted and wonderful child. I will talk to the people that told you this. They should have been far more careful with you!" She would have a word or two with whomever had told Willow this. It wasnt their business to be telling a child such things. However, she returns her attention to her daughter and envelopes her in a hug. Hoping that it is not much of a shock.
When a brisk wind blows over them, Kahlan shivers slightly, the dress she wears doing nothing to abate the chill in the air. She notices that Amelia has dressed Willow appropriately and she thanks the woman silently for such a thing. "Come let us walk my dear and you can tell me what you think. We can walk as long as your heart desires, I have nothing but time for you my Aria, my heart." It was true, anything that hurt Willow would hurt Kahlan. Willow was all that Kahlan had and the only thing that had brought her out of her depression over the loss of Shaine. Kahlan loved little Willow with all of her immortal soul and every fiber of her being. She would gladly give the heavens for the happiness of her little girl. The devotion of the girl to Kahlan made her likewise devoted to her. It was a deeply rooted mother-daughter relationship that the two had and it would last as long as either of them walked the face of the earth, that much Kahlan knew.
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Reverie
Nov 21, 2004 2:32:46 GMT -5
Post by Willow on Nov 21, 2004 2:32:46 GMT -5
Willow could be considered especially arrogant for a five year old. She loved the adoration given to her by the kingdom. Willow felt the banked emotions rise while she was pressed against her mother’s chest in comfort. Willow noticed the flush of tears falling from her mother’s once large soft eyes. She had created a pain there. Willow wanted to create her own stream of tears, but kept a stoic expression and obedient manner. Amelia had taught her too well. Her shoulders stiffened and became fixed with a familiar stubborn nature.
Willow made an immature revelation. She didn’t fully understand marriage, or even about life and death. Willow certainly didn’t understand about relationships between a man and a woman. She was still a child…Kahlan’s little girl. Willow had to make those tears stop falling so desperately. “Then…daddy sent me here! To watch after you…so you won’t be sad anymore! So you can stop crying now mama.” She made everything sound so simple and understanding. She made her arms fall around her mother in a gentle hug. Willow thought she could control anything by simple thoughts or gestures....even just by demanding it to be so. Unfortunately, the world was much more complex than her wishful thinking.
The child was always fascinated by her mothers hair. It reminded her of hot fire. She began to pet a strand of her mothers hair, wanting to comfort her so badly. The mane was so thick and tumbling; that it swallowed her and tickled the sides of her face when she became embraced. She wanted to protect the people who told her the bad things. She thought they would be punished or worse. “I asked them mama! They didn’t know any better!” “They are maids!” “They don’t know how to think. They can’t help being dumb.” She spoke frankly for such a small child. “Mama, what does crude and l-l-leeHAkneeage mean?” “Will I see Uncle Theo today?” Her mind had wandered to so many thoughts…that she became confused herself. Willow took her mothers hand once more and walked with her. Willow took in her mothers scent. Her mother always smelled like warm rich flowers in the garden outside.
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Reverie
Nov 21, 2004 14:33:13 GMT -5
Post by Kahlan Lothair on Nov 21, 2004 14:33:13 GMT -5
Smiling brilliantly for her little girl she thought she had hid the tears well, but shame on her she hadnt. Brushing the tears away with a finger she leans down and kisses her baby's forehead. "You're right. You're daddy did give me the most precious gift of all Aria. Forgive me my tears, love. I wish that you had been able to meet your father." Smiling with the warmth and security of a matriarch she hugs her daughter tight, feeling her play with her locks of hair. She knew that her hair fascinated Willow like it did the multitude of her people.
So it was the maids that had spoken to her daughter? She would have to express her feelings for such an act of thoughtlessness. Berate them as she could, she wouldnt fire them for it was apparant that Willow enjoyed their presence. Squeezing her daughter's hand as they walked to a side gate that led out of the walls of the castle and into a small stand of trees, she looks down to her again. Kahlans green dress dancing on the brisk breeze but her fire lore picking up to keep her warm now and it would reflect onto her daughter. Keeping them both comfortably warm while they strolled along.
She was an intuitive child, the like of which Kahlan could be so very proud of. "You ask questions as I did when I was little Aria." With a smile that could stop hearts mid beat and a wink to match, she continues on while shoving the semi-rust ridden door open. The door groans its protest and Kahlan steps outside, thankful for wearing her boots instead of a pair of dressy shoes. Spying that Willow is in fact wearing some dressy shoes she winks again and reaches into a fold of her dress, producing from a discrete pocket a pair of Willow's hiking boots. So much like a mother she was! While she encourages her daughter to take her dress shoes off she picks her up an sets her on a rock that has a cushion of moss on it. "Crude means that it was said improperly. 'Seed' was not the appropriate word to use with ears as young as yours. You yet do not have the concept of what it means, and had you, you would surely have blushed as I had." Working to get her boots on, Kahlan glances up to her for a moment and smiles another sweet smile for her daughter. "Do not worry child, they will not be punished severely. I do not think that it was right, however, for them to discuss such a thing with you before I could." Her pragmatic child might understand, but if she didnt Kahlan would work with her until she did, being as understanding as she possibly could be.
"Legitimate means," she pauses to try to put it so that her five year old daughter might understand it, "It means that your daddy and mama were married when mama had you." Thinking that the girl may not understand what marraige is she finishes lacing her daughters boots up and looks to her with a smile holding her hands out to help Willow off the rock.
"Marriaige happens when two people want to spend the rest of their lives together. They may love each other so much that they cant picture their lives without the other person in it." A glance aside reveals a somber smile on the High Queen's face yet she looks back to her daughter again with a smile. Kahlan had moved on and would inevitably continue doing so, she had to for the sake of her Kingdom and her child. "Sometimes little babies come out of the marriage," she pauses again to tickle her little girls sides and pick her up. "A child that may not be legitimate by right of birth means that his mama and daddy were not married and possibly never were. Though I do not think that any child should suffer for their parents doings, it inevitably happens." Kissing Willow's cheek she sets her back down and takes her by the hand, guiding her down a well lit forest path.
"Your Uncle Theo?" How Willow adored that man! He did shower attention on her and bring her gifts such that the child would always love. She grins lightly at the thought of the rogue that had made a deal with her many years ago. They had become fast friends after the realization of one key element that linked them inexorably. "He is away on business." Unfortunately Kahlan understood that 'business' could bring the thief to an end and it would shatter Willow's little heart. Theo was possibly the only man to ever have a foot hold in Willow's life, like a father figure where the child had yet to recieve a father.
"How would you like to visit Aerillia? She is a good hike two mile hike from here on foot but I think we would both do well to see the woman. What do you think Aria?" She smiles knowing that Willow liked Aerillia too, not nearly as much as herself or Theo, but she was fond of the woman too for like Theo, Aerillia almost always had a gift for the little princess.
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Reverie
Nov 21, 2004 18:19:00 GMT -5
Post by Willow on Nov 21, 2004 18:19:00 GMT -5
Willow noted the be-speckled garden of lush flowers. The gardener’s did a wonderful job keeping the beauty alive. “Can we bring Aunty a gift? I want to bring her flowers!” Willow noticed the fervor in her mother when she left the palace. How alive she became. Willow sometimes saw her Mothers sadness. She often had thought she brought it through misbehaving somehow. Now she knew that her mother simply missed someone she once loved. The child would never grow to understand the commitment to a man. Willow had already made plans to become committed to her kingdom. “Mama, when I am bigger. I will become a warrior and protect you from the bad people.” Willow made her mother sound as a weak thing. She began to flush the garden clean of its beauty. Taking more than she should have…flowers began falling to the ground below in thin strands. She didn’t have a very strong grip on the bouquet, so she tried to gather them up, but more would continue to fall. “Aunty will like these! See mama! Roses! They smell like you.” Willow placed one loose flower in her hair and offered a white rose to her mother. A curious offering for her aunty, she tied the bouquet with a red silk ribbon that had been in her long hair. The child was a reflective beauty of her mother. She possessed creamy gold-dust skin, wide large eyes with amber flecks and brown tints, along with the famous trademark of her mother’s red coppery hair.
Willow divorced the current thoughts that had once plagued her. She was entranced by the scents brought on by the lustful flowers. She marched right along side, more recklessly, now that they were out of eye-sight of the royal mass. She didn’t bother to train her manners. “I shouldn’t ask questions, mama?” She began to preen the flowers, becoming amused by their soft silky petals. She spoke passively, her voice calm and inquisitive. Her mother placed her down with a soft ‘plop’ to place the hiking boots on her small feet. Willow hated the nasty hiking boots. How picky in taste she had become. They smelled of old leather and wet hound. “They are so ugly! They look like mans shoe!” “I am not a boy.” She listened to her mother. Willow desperately tried to understand the act of marriage and the miracle of babies. “I will not marry, but I will have a strong son or daughter.” She made a disgruntled face at the thought of kissing the opposite sex. Little did the child know that there was much more involved.
There wasn’t a time when she hadn’t seen her Uncle. She grew weary and gave the feigned sound of a depressed whine. “When will Uncle Theo be back?” Willow never knew the specific details within the castle walls. She had only heard tidbits from the maid’s, they were always glorified and fantasized with wishful thinking. She stood up as soon as her mother had finished planting the shoes on her feet. She wandered ahead, getting used to the strange feel of tough leather.
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Reverie
Nov 22, 2004 19:10:29 GMT -5
Post by Kahlan Lothair on Nov 22, 2004 19:10:29 GMT -5
A smile spreads across her lips as she watches her daughter teeter along carefree. Her words weighing on Kahlans mind with due cause. Slender fingers pull aside some hair to tuck the white rose behind her ear and reliquish their hold on the fiery locks to let them fall like molten gold. The gentle caress of her hair against the silky smooth petals of the white flower bears a contrast that is not unwanted and would not go unheeded. Kahlan, a woman of extremes, fondly watches her daughter's akward steps in the unused boots.
Assured steps take her quickly to the side of her daughter as her long green dress sways with the breeze generated by her body. Running her hand over the top of her daughter's head, she pulls her close, Willow's height scantly level with Kahlan's hips. "Your Uncle Theo will be back in good time my darling. Do not worry about him," she smirks as she gives a roguish wink towards her daughter. "He can handle himself."
This far from the castle, for the castle could no longer be seen, Kahlan seems far more at ease and much happier. It appears as if a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders and she can simply be a mother to her daughter. Her thoughts turn momentarily to the thought of getting a father for the child, but no one seemed right and anyone that would be was already taken. Oh to have the whimsical life of a child once more!
As the pair break the wooded area and start down the gentle roll of a hillside, she sets Willow loose in the wide open field, first rescuing the flowers that would be a gift to her Aunt Aerillia. "Go Aria, run and play!" She urges the girl on by pushing the girl delicately with her fingertips between her shoulderblades. It was rare that the child ever got to go outside the city walls and even rarer that she was in the presence of her mother when it happened. Kahlan intends to enjoy every minute of watching her daughter be a child. Winking to her she even considers playing alongside her.
Rolling hills of almost every vibrant shade of green are tenderly touched, as if by a lover's care, by low hanging clouds to the east. The sun pierces through the display in earnest, burning away the mist ladened valley's that hold treasures of history deep in their soil. Farms dot the multiple hill sides, small in comparison to some of the Dun's atop the hills. The furthest large establishment that they could see was the one that they were headed to.
Dun Caric, a place where Aerillia could feel at home without the push and pull of court life and the tawdry show put on for her because of her status and friendship with the High Queen, especially in her state. Dun Caric was far enough away to be disconnected from the rigorous life of the castle, but close enough to be within reach to Kahlan for whatever needs might arise for either party. Kahlan had a deep rooted respect for the woman, almost as much as Theo had for her.
Standing still for just a moment longer before going after her little girl, the clouds split and sun spills over the hill that Kahlan has remained on. The warmth of the sun caresses her body, wakening dormant parts of her soul to the life that is surrounding her, and bathes her with an ethereal radiance that dazzles the eyes and quickens the beat of the heart.
Finally, broken from the momentary tie with the land as it would seem, she runs after her daughter shouting a challenge to see who can get to the top of the next hill. Sweet peals of laughter fill the countryside as she runs, the dress plastered to her lithe frame as the wind buffets her. Ecstasy to be free breeds within her like the will to survive.
High over head above the shouts of joy and challenges wheel two birds of perfect contrast. One white, the other black, both dancing in an intricate weave of somersaults and aerial acrobatics. The white bird evading the advances of the black bird only to more irritation of the latter. Druids would be abuzz about the two omens. They were expressed to be a White Dove, the other a Black Raven.
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Lady Aerillia Khisu
Citizen
My wounds cry for the grave--My soul cries for deliverance
Posts: 35
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Reverie
Nov 26, 2004 18:33:17 GMT -5
Post by Lady Aerillia Khisu on Nov 26, 2004 18:33:17 GMT -5
Long ebon locks are secured beneath a bandana as the amber skinned Lady of Dun Caric leans heavily on a broom. Almost out of breath Aerillia gazes at the women in the room with her. The room being of Roman architecture as a singular reminder of what had once befallen these beautiful shores so long ago. Gripping the makeshift broom handle with one hand, Aerillia rubs her lower back and eyes the women once more.
"Well ladies, a century of grime and filth has just met its match." Aerillia was obviously far more comfortable in her own environment, in a situation she had some measure of control over, than in the clutches of court life. The women all chatter among themselves as Aerillia goes outside on a veranda to get some fresh air.
Dun Caric, once a strategic Roman base, had been overrun by the 'infidels of Rome'. There were Celtic anomalies etched and re-etched into the foundation of the Roman villa. Much to Aerillia's interest, this particular spot had once been the sight of legends past, before the Romans desecrated the holiness of the site. The profound had been replaced by rote military fashion. A grimace replaces the placid look on Aerillia's face. It was heresy! A hand trails down the length of her neck as a brisk wind blows over the hilltop Villa. Below, in the small little village that made Dun Caric self absorbed, she could see the hurryings of men trying to right an buildings ages old. At least the Romans knew how to build, are the musings of the priestess.
Dun Caric was coming along and it would soon be worthy of the Winter that was on its way. Aerillia lets her hand roam down to her belly, and if everything went alright the baby would be born in the summer months just before the second harvest. That thought brings a tingling in her lower spine, a premonition perhaps? No, just a chill. Just a chill, she says to herself comfortingly.
Dark lashes frame an exquisite pair of sky blue eyes that, it is said, could bore into the soul of a man and lay it bare for all to witness. Had Aerillia known any of these rumors she would have scoffed. To bare a man's sould entirely was to kill him. Something shifts behind the priestess and she turns to find a cloak being placed around her shoulders. An old man, probably sixty-five in age, smiles a fatherly smile. "My Lady, you will catch a cold if you do not warm yourself. Remember, there is another you must shelter." He gestures to her belly and she smiles and nods. "Thank you Gareth. I would be lost without your wisdom."
With Gareth guiding her by the shoulders, Aerillia is led inside once more, though the raucous call of a Raven gives her pause. Turning her head slightly, Aerillia spies a large raven perched on the rail of the veranda in the exact spot that she had been moments before. What was the Morrigan trying to say? Again, fear and dread lace up the base of her spine, calling to her to feed the hungry wraiths of Morrigan's creation.
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