Queen Pasquel

A Chapter by SwagMaster

She gets herself into some trouble:(

I awoke to the sounds of a crackling fire.

Sitting up quickly, I panicked for a moment, not knowing where I was.

"Whoa, easy. It's okay." Saol was across the fire, holding up his hands in a placating manner. It probably would've worked better if there hadn't been a bloodstained knife in his hands. He noticed he was still holding it, and set it down gently.

"You almost shot me." I immediately accused, then blushed, embarrassed. He looked mortified.

"Oh, gods. I really am sorry about that." he groaned ruefully. I took pity on his distressed state.

"Don't worry about it. I mean, you stopped the arrow, right?" I pointed out, but he wouldn't be comforted.

"I almost killed you." he worse than I'd ever seen him. His skin was pale, except for two reddish purple splotches underneath his eyes. "I almost killed you. I know Estïqiã thinks I'm dangerous, and she's right. I decided....I decided I'm going to leave. Tomorrow."

"SAOL!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, making him jump. "Don't you ever say that, or I swear to the gods that I'll tie you to a tree and skin you alive! Do you understand?"

"I-uh...." he stammered, bewildered.

"Do you understand?!" I bellowed, and he quickly nodded.

"Crystal clear. Got it." he blurted, and I settled down.

"Good. Now, I'm hungry. Are we going back soon?" My stomach growled, as if to prove my point. Saol laughed.

"Almost ready. I'm just finishing up these boots." He held up a pair of beautiful boots, a dark black color, looking soft and pliable, and dead comfortable.

"Those are beautiful." I breathed.

"Good. They're for you." he grinned. "They're waterproof, very durable, and the inside is lined with rabbit fur. I'm working on a pair for Estïqiã." He gestured towards a rabbit pelt, stretched out, and drying.

"How did you know how to make these?" I asked incredulously, as Tiran slipped the boots into a backpack. He shrugged in a seemingly nonchalant way, but I knew him too well. I knew that by the stiffening of his shoulders that this had something to do with his memory.

"It's funny." he began slowly. "All I know, really is my name. But....stuff like fighting, hunting, survival, it's just all....instinct."

"That's good. If you're ever stranded, then you'll be able to take care of yourself."

"True. But....it's like there's a part of my brain, that was affected by my spell sleep, that makes it complete instinct, and that my instinct will take over when I'm threatened. I heard you following me, and then it was like I became detatched, and I watched myself set a trap, fashion a makeshift bow and arrow, then circle around to follow you. I....barely regained control. Your face, and voice, so terrified, it snapped be back into reality, and I stopped the arrow, but if I had just been able to stop myself sooner..." he trailed off guiltily.

"Bottom line; I'm not dead." I said firmly, standing up. "Let's go home, okay?" He smiled, and cleaned up the campsite. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Saol and I started down the trail, one after another, with Saol leading. I soon lost myself in the thick foliage, but Saol never hesitated when picking his way along the almost nonexistent trail.

Eventually, we reached the door, where we could hear muted voices inside. Stopping in front of the wooden entryway, I smiled at him, and he returned the glance with his cute little half smile.

"Thanks for saving my life." I said shyly.

"Thanks for saving me." he returned. "You know, that day you found me, in the woods. I could've stayed there for who knows how long." I said nothing, only glanced at his shirt. Estïqiã had produced changes of clothes for him, but today, he was wearing the blue tunic I had found him in, weird design and all.

His bright sea green eyes blinked, and he smiled at me lopsidedly before opening the door for me, then mockingly bowed.

"After you, my lady." he raised his voice to a ridiculous pitch, and I giggled.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." I replied, and flounced inside. He followed, and we flopped down on the couch, bowing and squealing annoying comments about each other.

"Your Ladyship is most beguiling." Saol trilled.

"Oh, no, nothing compared to the handsome King Saol." I returned.

"I believe that Queen Ava is by far the most fabulous and marvelous person ever!! She's simply razmatazztic!!!"

"Wait, razmatazztic?" I choked. "Razmatazztic?" Saol grinned, knowing that he had me over a barrel.

"Well, of course, she is. She's the razziest person ever!" he simpered, and I lost it. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and my rib cage ached with laughter.

"What the hell is razmatazztic?" Estïqiã asked, annoyed and mystified, which only made me laugh harder. Saol managed to keep a straight face for about thirty seconds before he too broke down.

When we finally regained control of ourselves, we sat for a while in silence, still grinning like idiots every time we looked at each other.

"I'm going to go wash my hands." I spotted my almost completely black hands, disfigured by grunge and grime.

"Of course, my lady." Saol stood and opened the bathroom door for me.

"I swear, if you make me start laughing again, I'll punch you." I warned him, feeling sore after my last episode. He merely grinned, and closed the door behind me.

I used the miniature indoor pump to get water into the basin, then rinsed and washed my hands. Drying my hands on the towel, I glanced up at the looking-glass, and let out a scream.

My face.

I backpedaled, right into the door, and slid down onto the ground. The mirror stayed there, looking normal and ordinary.

Cautiously, and frightened out of my wits, I crawled over to the bottom of the basin stand, then slowly rose.

There it was again.

With terror and fascination, I stared at the foreign face in the mirror. Her greasy brown hair straggled down her back, past the bottom of the mirror, and her face was wrinkled and sour looking. Her black eyes stared at me, looking almost as if she had no pupils.

I touched my face.

So did she.

I opened my mouth.

She mimicked me, showing a mouthful of craggy brown stumps that had technically been teeth once.

I wiggled my fingers, stuck out my tongue, crossed my eyes, turned around, jumped up and down, and still, the strange woman kept up a perfect mirror image.

Was that.......

Me?

In a panic, I ran my fingertips over my face, as she too felt her skin. In contrast, I felt smooth, tight skin, no signs of any wrinkles anywhere. Dumbfounded, I stared at the reflection. She did likewise.

Then she smiled evilly.

A terrible cackle echoed throughout the bathroom, and I screamed again as the mirror shattered into millions of tiny shards of glass, falling all over the floor and letting out a strangely pretty tinkling sound. Horrified, I ripped open the door that led straight to my room from the bedroom, and dashed inside, straight to my bed.

"Ava?" Estïqiã's voice was slightly muffled by the closed door. "Can I come in?" I forced my breathing to slow, and for my thudding heartbeat to calm down some.

"Um....yes." I called back, my voice cracking slightly. She stuck her head in.

"Are you okay?" her green eyes looked concerned. "I thought I heard you scream. And breaking glass. Did you cut yourself?"

"No." I managed. "I just......" I looked at her worried face, and just couldn't bring myself to get herself worked up even more. "I just slipped, and broke the mirror by accident."

"Ah." Estïqiã nodded, completely believing it, and came in, closing the door behind her. She sat down next to me, and I prayed that she couldn't hear the frenzied beating of my heart. We sat in quiet for a while.

"What are you thinking about? Saol?" she asked, hiding a grin.

"What? No!" I shouted, flushing, until I saw her teasing smile. Calm down, Ava, I ordered myself.

"I'm sorry for shouting." I quickly amended. "I guess I'm just.....scared, about this whole fighting thing. I'm a princess, not a warrior. I don't think I can do this, especially if I'm going to be a scared little child about it." The old woman's laughing face floated into my imagination, I shuddered.

"Oh, Ava." Estïqiã hugged me. "I know that everyone gets scared, or doubtful, no matter who you are. But it takes a hero to be able to stand up to those fears. Even if you're doubtful, or unsure about something, it takes courage to stop fighting, and fight to do the right thing." The pure terror from the incident was wearing off, and now I just felt weak, exhausted, and emotionally overworked.

"Thanks." I sniffed, and there was a brief lull in the conversation. "Do....." I hesitated. "Do you ever get scared?" Estïqiã seems startled for a second.

"No." she says, much too quickly. I straighten, and look her in the eyes.

"Really?"

"No."

"Estïqiã."

"No....maybe." she relents. "Fine. Yes. Yes, I do. I get very scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing somebody." she breathes quietly. "Anybody. I can't stand to think about losing you, or Tiran, or Pandorå. Or anyone else. I don't think I can lose anyone else." Silence.

"Estïqiã?"

"Yes?"

"Is there anybody you......love?" I was a little hesitant to use the word, because it seemed to powerful, and meaningful.

"I love you and Tiran and Pandorå."

"No. I mean.....love-love." I repeated, and she said nothing. Finally, she sighed heavily, shifting her weight slightly.

"You don't know him." she told me. "But the two of us know that he is my šõüsįktæ, or soul mate. We took the vow."

"What vow?" I ask, curious.

"It's a spell, a binding vow, where we swear to each other, to be together forever." she showed me the underside of her wrist, where there was a strange design etched in her skin. "See? Jakin has a matching one. It's our symbol."

"Jakin?" I asked.

"That's his name."

"Isn't Jakin....important or something?" I hinted, not wanting to come right out and say that I'd heard the conversation between Tiran and Estïqiã. "I mean, I think I've heard the name somewhere."

"He's....a noble." Estïqiã won't meet my eyes.

"Estïqiã, you're my best friend. I know you're lying." Estïqiã drags out the silence as long as she can before she speaks.

"He's the prince of the elves, okay?" she snapped, and drew her knees up to her chest. "He's a prince." I became dreadfully aware that I was treading on thin ice. Caution was essential.

"Wouldn't he have an arranged marriage?" I asked carefully.

"Yes." she replied simply. I waited for her to elaborate.

"Who?" I finally prompted.

"Her name is Ven, princess of the damn unicorns." Estïqiã said sourly, but I could tell she was really hurting inside. "Jakin's father hates me. He'll let Jakin marry me when hell freezes over." I silently hugged her, knowing there wasn't a lot to say at this point. After a long period of quiet comfort, Estïqiã stood up, inconspicuously wiping her eyes.

"We should go eat." was all she said, before leaving the room. I followed slowly, and searched for Saol with my peripheral vision. He was setting the table in an impassive silence. The wonderful smell of stew filled the room, and a cauldron was hanging over the fire. Pandorå was already sitting at the table. I noticed that there was an extra setting at the counter.

"Why is there-" I began, only to stare, confused, as a girl walked in through the door, quietly shutting it behind her. Her coppery skin shone in the light, and her dark hair was pulled back in a braid. She smiled at me shyly, brown eyes sparkling, and she curtsied slightly.

"We're going to have a guest stay with us for a while." Estïqiã said, staring coldly at the girl. "Ava, meet Princess Ven. She ran away from home, so she's hiding out." Ven looked a little hurt by the elf's cold demeanor.

"Um....hi." I managed, my brain slow to adapt to the situation. I held out my hand, and she took it with a friendly smile.

"Hi." she returned. "I hear Tiran is teaching you magic." she pauses suddenly, and looks down. When she looks back at me, she looks sad and somber. "I am so sorry."

Surprised, I laugh at her straight face, until she too breaks down into giggles.

"I'm hungry." Pandorå announced, and Estïqiã smiles at her.

"Of course you are." she rolled her eyes.

"I got it." I went and fetched the pot of stew, inhaling the smell happily. Serving everyone, I realized with relief that Saol was back to his old self, teasing Pandorå and laughing when she set fire to his roll, reducing it to ashes.

Dinner was mostly silent, as Saol and I mostly avoided confrontation with each other, and Estïqiã refused to talk to Ven altogether. Fortunately, Pandorå and Ven got along splendidly, and together, they would tease Saol from time to time, who returned their pokes good naturedly.

After the meal, Ven insisted that she clean up, to repay us for taking her in. Estïqiã didn't acknowledge this at all; she only started for her room. Pandorå immediately followed, as if she sense Estïqiã's pain, and knew she should help her. I feel a bit left out, but quickly push it away, grabbing my cloak and deciding to go outside for some fresh air.

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Pasquel worriedly placed a hand on her stomach, examining her slim figure in the mirror, like she expected for a bulge to appear any second.

"My lady?" Nessa, a tall, shifty, old woman, stood in the doorway. "Is there anything you need?"

"No, thank you." Pasquel secretly found the old servant rude and knew she mocked Pasquel with her subtle behavior patterns.

"As you wish, Your Highness." Nessa curtsied deeply and rather condescendingly, then turned to leave.

"Wait!" Pasquel suddenly cried out. "Is there any update on the meeting?"

"Not that I know of, miss."

"Very well. That will be all." Pasquel returned her attention to the mirror upon Nessa's departure.

When they had arrived at Zancastle, the obese and disgusting King Leopold had first claimed to know nothing of Ava's current location, then demanded recompense for the loss of a wife. His piggish nature was belligerent and loud, but Dantaus had been skillfully navigating the discussions, with seemingly endless patience and excellent diplomat skills. Pasquel herself couldn't stand the king, and could only bear about twenty minutes of his awfulness before she had to excuse herself.

Dantaus had been in there for almost three hours, and Pasquel was growing restless. With a snarl of frustration, she collapsed into a nearby chair, and waited.

And waited.

When the sundial read three in the afternoon, Pasquel decided she could wait no longer. She arranged her crown, then marched through her doors and into the corridors. As she navigated her way to the conference room, the hallways were mostly deserted, save for a few skittish servants, who shied away and gazed fearfully at Pasquel, as if she might beat them.

Given their current king's temper, I'm sure that it's often happened before, Pasquel thought grimly. The only sound was the echoing click of her hard soled slippers, creating a rather ominous atmosphere.

When she reached the room, Pasquel found the door slightly ajar, and inside, she could hear Leopold's and Dantaus's voices, hammering out the details of some sort of transaction. Even the sound of Leopold's oily voice made Pasquel wrinkle her nose in disgust. Stepping forward, she was about to place her hand on the door to push it open, when the temperature dropped about thirty degrees.

Surprised and suddenly freezing, Pasquel withdrew her hand to rub her arms, which were bare and covered in goosebumps. An uneasy and evil presence descended over her psyche.

"Hello........my Queen." a voice, right next to her ear, slithered its way into her ear canal and oozed into her eardrum. He addressed her as a queen mockingly, with fake respect. Pasquel shuddered involuntarily, the only movement she could make, as she found herself unable to move. Run, you fool! her mind screamed. Run! Call out! Anything!

She did nothing but stand there, her hands frozen to her arms.

"What are you doing, my Queen? Snooping around like this?" the voice hissed. Pasquel could only whimper. "Here to find your precious husband, I presume. Your precious idiot of a husband. What a fool."

Fool? Why is he a fool? Pasquel thought, feeling hazy and muddled.

"I will enjoy this." the voice spoke, and a figure moved in front of her. It was a black cloak, hood drawn up and covering the face, and the sleeves and hem covering the hands and feet.

Pasquel felt sick.

The sleeves moved up, and something grabbed the edge of the hood, presumably hands of some sort, but they stayed covered.

The hem began to draw back.

Oh, gods.

I'm going to die.

Pasquel could only let out a small whimper, unable to move, petrified with fear, until suddenly, the arms stopped. They fell back to the sides, and the hood remained in place.

"What is this?" the voice murmured chillingly. The sleeve extended out, and stopped less than an inch away from Pasquel's midsection. Freezing cold emanated from whatever was in the cloak, and Pasquel felt like she was going to pass out.

"Well, well, well." it whispered. "What do we have here?" Pasquel couldn't see its face, but she could've sworn that it was smiling.

"Imagine that. My plan is falling into place." it hissed evilly. "You, my Queen, are to play a very important part. Very important."

Pasquel swayed.

"Oh, yes, you will be the perfect piece."

Everything went dark.

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