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Rated: E · Draft · Fantasy · #1100578
Roshan struggles to find herself and for her happiness.
Roshan silently slipped through her door and froze, holding her breath. Good. Her lady’s maid hadn’t moved from her cot by the bed, hadn’t heard her young charge sneak out of the room. She knew her father, the Sovereign of Elvendale, would have her watched since the date for her unwanted wedding was coming up so quickly, so she stole moments alone whenever she got the chance. And he would certainly be in a towering rage if he should see her at this point in time – her ebony hair bundled under a cap, wearing leggings and a tunic. This was no way for the future leader of the country to dress, but Roshan didn’t much care. She silently sped through the Great Hall and out the side entrance, heading for the stables. Here, with the horses, hounds and cats, was where she felt freest.

“Easy, girl. That’s my sweet. Quiet, Astarte.”

Roshan paused to stroke the nose of her favorite mare before slipping into the tack room and selecting the lightweight saddle she used for her early morning rides. Her father knew that she often went riding, he just didn’t understand why she would insist on being able to ready her mount on her own. But, since she was as stubborn as he was, he had given in and had a smaller saddle made so she could do everything on her own. What he didn’t realize was that the purpose behind Roshan’s desire for the lighter saddle was so that she could slip out early in the morning and evade the guards he put on her. He never would have allowed her to ride as she wished, fast and furious, clearing any hedge in her route, and leaving the guards well behind.

Astarte nudged her shoulder as if to ask what was taking so long. Roshan chuckled. They were well matched. No one else ever tried to handle the mare, Astarte simply wouldn’t allow it, and Roshan hated having anyone try to “handle” her.

“Let’s go, girl. Let’s blow some cobwebs from our minds.”

With that, Roshan leapt into the saddle and urged the silver maned horse quietly from the stables. Once out the doors, she pointed Astarte at the gate separating the stable yard from the fields beyond. A murmured command was all it took to set the mare running for the gate and clearing it with ease.

Roshan’s lilting laugh drifted back to the stables, where the wizened stable master leaned on the doorframe. He smiled and shook his head. It would take a strong hand to tame that one, or rather, to tame those two. He hoped the foreign prince that her father had selected wouldn’t botch the job and ruin them all.

*************


Roshan slowed her mare after several miles had flown by. She needed someone to talk with, someone that would understand her and help her decide what to do. If there was anything she could do. She let out a soul-deep sigh. This was so unfair of her father. He knew that her mother had hoped and planned for Roshan to select her own husband, preferably her Truye-Bond if she could ever find him. She had to give her father some credit, though. He had managed to agree to allow Roshan three years longer to search for her Truye-Bond before enforcing the agreement he had made with the King of Ormange.

Now, she had five days left. She leaned forward and stroked Astarte’s sweaty neck. “Poor girl, I’ve really worked you today. Not very fair of me, I know.”

She looked around and noticed they had ridden much further from the castle than she had planned. She could see the road leading to the front gates of the keep filled with people of all sorts. She watched as a small group of jugglers snatched some apples from a merchant’s cart to practice with. She groaned to herself, and then giggled. She couldn’t hear them from so far away, but she could tell the merchant was yelling at them for all he was worth. She watched for a few moments more, and then nudged Astarte into a slow trot towards one of the small buildings at the edge of the field.

She couldn’t remember who lived in that particular hut, but felt drawn to it anyway. As she approached, she noticed an elderly woman kneeling in the small garden at the side of the hovel. Roshan pulled Astarte up beside the low gate leading into the small fenced garden and watched silently for a moment. She could handle almost any animal if she wanted to, but plants had never thrived around her. Maybe she could give Astarte a rest and learn a bit from this woman, who obviously knew what she was doing when it came to flowers and herbs.

“Pardon me, madam.” Roshan leaned forward a bit to catch the woman’s eye. “Would you object to my sitting with you in your garden for a bit?”

The woman looked up, startled. “Oh, of course, miss. Please, step down and join me.” She smiled and gestured to a small tree at the corner of the yard. “The tree there should offer a bit of shade for your mount, if you’d care to tie it there.”

Roshan slipped from the saddle, loosened it for Astarte’s comfort, and quickly fastened the reins to a low-hanging branch, just high enough that she wouldn’t be able to get herself in trouble. Now that she was dismounted, she wasn’t sure why she had decided to delay her ride by pausing here. True, Astarte needed a short rest, but simply walking for a while would have given her the break she needed. Ah well, perhaps this woman could show her a bit of gardening, and talk with her to keep her mind off her coming nuptials.

Roshan took a deep breath and sank to her knees near the kind woman. “I don’t know much about gardening, but you looked so content that I thought...” She paused and considered. “I thought maybe you could show me what it is that you do that is so calming for you.”

The elderly woman chuckled softly. “Ah, miss, all I do is focus on the harmony around me. The birds singing, the bees going from flower to flower, the way the breezes whisper through the trees and grasses. When I am in my garden, I may be working, but I am listening to the beauty around me. That is all that I do.”

Roshan flushed. The woman made it sound so simple. She sighed. “I wish I could understand how you do that. I see the beauty around me, but how do you listen to it? Aren’t you distracted by other things that need doing, things that need considering?”

The woman smiled. “There are always more things to consider and to do. ‘Tis the way of life that there are always more things to do and think on. But, if you are trying to do or think on a number of things at once, you cannot do any of them well. They must be taken as they come.” She looked around her garden, noting patches of weeds that still needed to be removed. They could wait, her guest could not. “Why not join me for a bit of tea and talk? I am called Old Meg, by the by.”

Roshan stood up and offered her hand to Old Meg, whose knees creaked and groaned as she rose from her knees. “Thank you for the offer. I, um, really, I should return.” She looked over at Astarte and thought for a bit. “Astarte could use a bit more rest, though.” She smiled, “Thank you, Old Meg, I’d like to join you. Oh, and I am Roshan.”

Old Meg’s eyes twinkled at her. “Oh, I know who you are, dear. I just wonder…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, really. Just wondered what had caused such agitation for you to ride so hard and fast today.” She smiled easily. No sense letting the child know her true question – if she knew who she was herself. That was something that most people didn’t like thinking, that someone else may know more of them than they did.

As they walked towards the door of the tiny hut, another woman, not as old, came to the door and called out to Old Meg. “Megh…ahhh, sorry sister, did not see that you were coming in already. And bringing a guest?” Her gaze sharpened on Roshan’s face for a moment before softening into a welcoming smile. “You will have tea with us, won’t you?”

Roshan glanced at Old Meg for a moment before replying. “Yes, thank you, Old Meg has invited me. I would like to join you, that is, if it isn’t too much an bother.”

The woman laughed. “A bother? Nonsense! A guest for tea is always welcome!” She held the door open and waved her hand inside. “Please, come in. Rest yourself.”

Roshan stepped into the dimly lit home and looked around. There was a small table with four rickety looking chairs around it, and tea for four had already been poured. For four? She looked again. Four chipped cups held tea, and the other woman was chattering to herself and Old Meg, something about unexpected timing, as she pulled out another cup and saucer, both in better condition than the others. As she poured the tea she called “Sisters!”
Roshan noted a part of their home had a curtain across it, and two more women came from behind the curtain. She offered a smile to them and after they had looked questioningly at Old Meg, they welcomed her warmly.

Old Meg sipped her tea and studied Roshan carefully. She knew her sisters were surprised that she had brought the girl into their home, but there was more to be concerned with than just that she might begin to wonder about them and ask questions they weren’t prepared to answer. She also knew that Roshan was closely connected to the prophecy, and that time was running short for what was necessary to fulfil it. She watched Roshan glance about the hut and sip her tea. Good. She was starting to relax. It would make things so much simpler if she were calm while they talked.

Roshan sighed. Somehow, here she didn’t feel the pressures she felt when she was in the keep, having to be the lady her father wanted her to be. Here, she could relax and not worry about what was going to happen in 5 days time. She frowned. She hadn’t wanted to think of that just yet.

“What troubles you, Roshan?” Old Meg questioned.

Roshan noted that she was watching her with a concerned look. Suddenly, she just had to talk with someone, anyone, and somehow she knew Old Meg would be able to help.

“Oh, I don’t know what to do!” she cried. “In five days I’m to marry someone I have never met, simply because my father wishes it! My mother has begged him to let me choose who and when I marry. I have begged him not to take my choice away. Not to take away my chance to find my Truye-Bond.” Roshan bit her lip to keep from sobbing as the reality of never having that cherished bond washed over her. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Old Meg, what can I do?”

Old Meg looked pointedly at her sisters. Two of them returned to the room on the other side of the curtain, after murmuring sympathies and encouragement to Roshan. The sister whom she had met at the door rose and began washing the tea cups from her sisters, leaving Roshan’s on the table.

Old Meg wrapped her arm around Roshan’s shoulders. “Come now. Be fair. It isn’t as bad as that, is it? Are you certain that this is what your future holds? No Truye-Bond, little happiness, and no choices? Look at me, child.” She studied Roshan for a bit. “Tell me, Roshan. What do you think of people who look to tea leaves and such for guidance and knowledge of the future?”

Roshan started. “What? Fortune-tellers? I’ve never really thought about it.” She puzzled over the question for a moment. “Well, I’ve never met anyone who tries to predict what will happen. Father discourages anything that isn’t practical, and Mother tries not to anger Father. I don’t know what she would think, I know Father would say that it is naught but rubbish.” She bit her lip.

“Yes, dear, but what do you think of it?”

“Well, I don’t know that I would believe everything a fortune-teller had to say, but I can see where it could be helpful guidance. Why?”

Old Meg smiled. “It just so happens that my sister knows a bit. She prefers hear what the tea leaves say, rather than casting runes, or looking to the cards. Would you wish her to see what your tea leaves have to say?”

Roshan laughed. “Why not! Father isn’t here to tell me nay, and Mother would never object. Why not! What do I need to do?” She looked to the sister to see if she had any directions she wished followed before consulting the tea leaves.

The sister had turned to face them, drying her hands and smiling. “Just relax and sip a bit more tea. Leave a bit of it, and the leaves, in the cup for me, though. Clear your mind, and think of what you wish to have answered. ‘Tis that easy.”

Roshan doubted it would be that easy, but she wasn’t about to say so. It would be disrespectful, after these kind women had let her take tea with them and had listened to her complaint. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she relaxed and thought only of her situation. What was she to do, what would happen with this marriage, would she ever find her Truye-Bond before it was too late? She slowly let out her breath and took a sip of tea. Her mind was still wheeling with questions, but she didn’t feel so panicked and threatened by them.

Old Meg’s sister chuckled softly. “The tea is soothing, is it not? Shall we see what the leaves have to say?” She picked up the tea cup and gently swirled it three times to the right.

“Hmm… An interesting combination. An anchor, a cross, an owl… That is interesting. Let’s see… a forked line and ring, that makes sense. A star, and grapes, that is good. Aahh...” she smiled. “As I’d hoped, a daisy.” Suddenly she was frowning, “But this… Sister, this cannot be right. With the daisy is also an arrow! How..? Why..? I don’t understand.”

Old Meg reached over the table to grasp her sister’s hand. “Calm yourself. Let’s hear what the leaves are saying before you get too worked up.”

“Quite so, quite so.” She took a deep breath. “Let me see, there are a couple more here. “But, a cat? Ah, but with a hammer as well! That is better anyway, than a cat alone. Just two more… Hmm… a mask, and…. Oh my! A circle with a, no, make that two circles, both with points! My, oh, my! That is most exciting, don’t you think, sister?” She beamed at Old Meg.

Old Meg smiled patiently. “I might think so, if you would explain for us.”

“Oh! Oh, of course!” She glanced quickly to Roshan. “Well, my dear, your tea leaves have much to say. First, the anchor with the cross and owl. The anchor would signify an unpleasant situation, the cross seems to be either a sacrifice of some sort or a reward for sufferance. The owl is a sign of luck, either good or bad, ahead, so doesn’t tell much. The forked line tells of a decision to be made and the ring indicates your marriage. The star offers hope, and the grape happiness.” She paused for a moment. “The daisy tells me you will find new love, and soon from where it sits in your cup. But the arrow… I’m sorry, Roshan, it tells me there will be some sorrow and grave tidings shortly after being found.” She looked to Old Meg for support. “The cat tells me there will be problems caused by treachery, but the hammer over the cat promises that you will overcome it. Now, the mask tells of a secret that must be kept hidden, and I’m certain from the closeness to the circles that it has something to do with the children you will have.” She smiled brightly. “Two children for you, Roshan. Possibly twins. Do you know what this means?”

Roshan gaped at her. Was she out of her mind? Only Truye-Bonds had children. And this woman was saying she would have twins? That was almost unheard of in Elvendale.

“Wait, let me understand. I will be getting married, though I have a decision to make about that. I am in an unpleasant situation, where I will need to make sacrifices of some sort. I have luck, though whether good or bad we don’t know. Very well. Hope and happiness are part of my future, as well as secrets that must be kept, treachery, and… You honestly think I will have twin children? But, I am to wed in five days! To someone I have never met! Aren’t all Truye-Bonds from the same place? Wouldn’t mine be from here? From Elvendale?” Roshan felt wild. “I don’t understand. I don’t want this marriage! This is not fair! ‘Tis not just! I want time! Time to find my Truye-Bond! Time to, to… I don’t know! To just be! Is that too much to ask?” She was nearly sobbing.

Old Meg was patting her arm, trying to soothe her. “Now, dear. Fairness and justice are not yours to claim. Life does not promise to be either. Look to what the tea leaves tell you. You will meet your Truye-Bond, and soon. You will have decisions to make, yes, and secrets to keep. Things feel chaotic and seem to look that way in the leaves. You will find your path. It may not be the straight and simple one, but you will find it.” Old Meg looked to her sister. “The glade? Think you that it is safe for a time?” With a nod from her sister, Old Meg told Roshan of a glade in the woods, some distance from the hut. “You would be safe there, and private, to think things through, if you wish. We could give you some things from the garden, should you wish to stay there for a day, or even two, to sort yourself out.”

Roshan saw that the sisters were watching her closely, and felt sure that there was some reason they wanted her to go to the glade. “Where is this glade? How could you be sure I would be safe, especially for days, should I wish to go there? Why would you willingly give your supplies to me? How can I just leave? And to stay longer than an afternoon? I just don’t understand…”

She felt more confused than ever, and pushed back from the table. Old Meg rose as well, waving a hand at her sister to tell her to put some things together. They had been together long enough that words weren’t needed to understand that Old Meg felt certain she would be able to convince Roshan to go to the glade.

“Come, my dear. You know you’ll have little peace and no privacy back in the keep. Everyone will be wanting you to prepare, to be excited about your wedding. Time spent in the glade is almost always peaceful and private. You need time to think, to contemplate. To dream. If you don’t feel you can be there for days, at least go there for a few hours. It will do you good, child.”

Roshan bit her lip and studied the ground for a bit. She looked at Old Meg and considered some more. With a sigh, she accepted the small bag of food, for herself and Astarte. “I do need time to myself, to think if nothing else. I thank you, Old Meg. Maybe I shouldn’t go, but I am going to. For one more time, I’m going to do something for myself, before I no longer have the option.” She smiled wanly. “Who knows what I will not be allowed after the wedding. So, where is this glade, and how do I reach it?”

Old Meg chuckled and patted Roshan’s hand. “Easy, my dear. Go past the garden gate and follow the path to the woods. You’ll know the glade when you come to it. It has a tendency to let people in need of solace know when they have arrived. Safe journey, Roshan. And may the Gods smile on you when you meet your Truye-Bond.”

Roshan wondered what Old Meg was hiding behind her twinkling eyes, but decided not to ask. Old Meg and her sister had given her plenty to think about already. With a smile and another word of thanks, she drifted through the door and out to the tree where Astarte was patiently waiting and nibbling on leaves.

Roshan tightened the saddle and lashed the bag of food behind it. “Let’s go, girl. Let’s go find this glade and see if we can find some peace there, as well.” With a pat on Astarte’s neck, Roshan swung into the saddle and nudged her towards the woods. As they passed the garden gate, she looked back and saw Old Meg and her sister that had read the tea leaves smiling, nodding and sharing secrets. Roshan chuckled to herself as she nudged Astarte into an easy canter. Apparently, it was the same no matter where one lived. Everyone had a secret of some sort that they felt the need to share with someone else.

*************


The path through the woods was nothing special, just an old trail where someone had taken the time to clean away the brush. The glade, however, was far more than that. As Roshan rode into it, she noticed immediately how calm everything was. Her skin prickled as she urged Astarte into the glade. Even the birds and small animals were quieter and more at peace. A doe stood at the edge of the glade, nursing her fawn, and rather than fleeing into the woods as they normally would, stood and watched as Roshan pulled Astarte to a halt just inside the ring of trees. The grass was high enough to brush the stirrups, which made Astarte happy, and assured Roshan that she wouldn’t have to worry about the silver mare wandering off.
As she slid from Astarte’s back, she noticed that there was a small hillock in the center of the glade where the grass was much shorter, more convenient for resting. She slipped the bridle and saddle from Astarte and gave the ravenous mare a pat and admonition to not gorge herself, and wove her way through the tall grass to the side of the hillock.

As she settled down, she studied the glade, trying to see what made it so special. It was special, she could feel that, she just couldn’t see why. The doe’s fawn was starting to gambol about while its mother resumed her meal, occasionally flicking her ears to locate the fawn in grass. Butterflies flitted about, landing for short periods of time on the flowers that were scattered about the little hill, even landing on Roshan for a heartbeat or two. She smiled and lay back in the grass, closing her eyes to enjoy the warm sunshine, soft breeze, and peacefulness that surrounded her. No people to tell her what to do or what to say. No one to disapprove if she wasn’t the first rate lady she was supposed to be.

“Pardon me….”

Roshan bolted upright as a deep, masculine voice came out of no where. She’d seen no one else around, and she had looked. She still couldn’t see anyone, not on this side of the hill, at any rate. She peered over the hillock and was startled to see a young man with – were those wings? – looking back at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard you arrive, and thought you’d been sent to find me, but when you didn’t say anything…. Well, I guess I was wrong.” He smiled disarmingly at her, his blue eyes sparkling up at her, tilting his head back so he could see her from where he still lay on the hill, arms and wings stretched over his head. “Have you come here seeking rest as I have?”

Roshan didn’t know what to say. She’d certainly not expected to meet anyone here. Her poise was further shaken as she realized she had been just contemplating when and where Old Meg’s sister thought she would be meeting her Truye-Bond. How unlikely was that!

Roshan shook her head to clear the shattered musings and organize her thoughts. The man was still smiling a bit as he studied her and waited for a response. That slight smile was even more disconcerting for Roshan.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “What were you asking?”

The man chuckled and rolled onto his elbow so he could see her right side up. “I was wondering if you had come here looking for me, but I can see that you had no notion that anyone else was around. I do apologize for disturbing your rest, though I do not regret it. I have been thinking so much today that my head fairly aches, and could use some conversation to ease it.” He searched Roshan’s face, looking for signs of rejection or acceptance. “If you’d rather imagine yourself alone again, that is always your choice as well.” His eyes twinkled as he noted her quick flush.

“No, no, I don’t think I’d be able to imagine myself alone since the fact of the matter is that I am not alone.” Roshan smiled tentatively. “I’m not certain that I have much to talk about though.”

He rose to his feet and climbed the few feet to the top of the hill and dropped down near Roshan. She watched him negligently drape his arms over his knees and make himself comfortable. He cocked his head, watching her, though she wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He seemed to be considering her rather closely for some reason. “I’m sure we can think of something to discuss. By the by, I am Darvin.”

Roshan settled to her knees and plucked a blade of grass. She studied him as she shredded it. “Very well, Darvin. I’m Roshan…. What brings you to this glade?”

Darvin selected a small white flower and plucked it, stroking the velvety petals. He chuckled quietly. “I was sent,” he said, “to find someone who was said to be looking for me. Our wise women couldn’t… Rather, they wouldn’t, say who it was, or where I would meet them, but that it was vitally important to many people. Especially to the person who was searching for me. As far as why this glade, I headed into the woods to avoid the myriad of tradesmen and jongleurs and happened across it. Completely unplanned, you see. But, certainly welcome. I haven’t felt such peace in… oh, many years.” He glanced up from the flower. “And yourself? How do you come to be here, alone in the glade?”, a fleeting grin crossing his face.

Roshan flushed and looked down at what was left of the blade of grass. “I was out for a ride this morning, looking for a place to think. An old woman and her sister suggested this as a good place to rest and consider. To, well, just be. There are so many things I must think on and sort out for myself, and there is little privacy in… my home.” She glanced up and let her eyes wander over his face, taking in the waves of deep auburn hair and his golden tanned skin. Something about him… She gave herself a mental shake.

Darvin chuckled. “Brothers and sisters underfoot? Or just overly concerned parents?” A breeze flirted with the slight curls at the base of his neck and whispered through his wings. “I’ve been known to attempt escape before. For me, it is the continual expectation of my mater that I find a suitable young thing, get married, settle down and raise a number of children for her to coddle.” He sighed and reached back to brush away a small beetle that was making its way up his back. “Between my mother and my sisters, there was never enough time to just sit and think.” He smiled ruefully. “So here I am, spoiling your chance at some solitude. I’ll take myself off, and leave you to…whatever it was you were planning on doing here.” He brushed his hands together and started to rise.

Roshan quickly stopped him, her hand on his arm. “No, don’t leave on my account.” She laughed. “Actually, it might help me to have someone who knows nothing of the situation I’m in listen and offer their point of view. That is, if you would want to…” She dropped her hand and laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know why you’d want to. You don’t know me, and well, why should you take on my problems?” She glanced down at the ground, letting her fingers aimlessly tickle the grass.
Completely unaware of the picture she presented, she felt his gaze studying her. She knew with her slim build and delicate features that some people thought her to be elven. Roshan dearly wanted to ask about his wings, since they still puzzled her and drew her eyes repeatedly. She couldn’t though – it would go against the strict mores that were almost ingrained in her. She knew Darvin could tell she was troubled, and that it bothered him that he didn’t comprehend her problems. She felt him settle back on the hill next to her. He seemed in no hurry to leave her, though she was certain he could tell it would take a while to figure out what to do with her situation.

Roshan looked up as something brushed against her forearm. Startled, she glanced over at Darvin, to see him smiling and offering her a pale lavender flower. “Tell me.”

Tell me. Two simple words. Roshan couldn’t believe it would be that simple to explain. Tell me. No one had ever asked her opinion for anything, or asked her to elaborate when something was bothering her. She brought the bloom to her nose, considering.

She looked out the corner of her eyes at Darvin. “Very well. Just remember, you asked!” She laughed, her delight in finding another unexpected shoulder to lean on, if only for a little while, overriding her earlier melancholy. Now, how to tell him the situation without providing more information than necessary – she had listened to her father’s warnings about “Her Highness” being a target for abductions and such, even if she thought he was overly paranoid.

Roshan relaxed back against the warm grasses and sighed.

“Well, I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I wish I had, though. Then maybe I wouldn’t have the dilemma my father has created for me. See, he has decided that rather than letting me find my Truye-Bond… Wait, do you know what a Truye-Bond is even? I mean, I don’t know where you are from or anything...” Roshan paused and turned her head to see him resting his chin on his elbows, watching her with a faint sad smile. Seeing him nod, she decided the rest of her curiosity could wait to be satisfied, and she certainly had questions.
“Father has decided that it would be best for everyone – well, everyone but me I think – if I were to marry a foreign P…person,” Roshan glanced to see if he’d noticed her hesitation. “This man I’m to marry knows nothing of me, our beliefs, and I know, I just KNOW that he’s not who I’m meant to belong with. Does that make sense? I don’t know how I know, I just do. And then today, I met Old Meg, and her sister told me I’d have children. Well, that’s only possible if I met my Truye-Bond, and they are certain that will happen. But, my father won’t let me leave the grounds! I have to sneak away if I want any semblance of privacy! Mother has talked with him many times, and he just tells her he’s given me enough time to find my Truye-Bond, that now I owe it to him and everyone else to do as he’s decided. To go ahead and marry this man I’ve never met, to give up the chance, the hope, of having a happy Truye-Bond marriage. Just because Mother’s Bond with Father isn’t happy, he thinks it isn’t important that I find mine or happiness in my marriage.”

Roshan broke off her tirade to see that she’d shredded the poor little blossom Darvin had offered her. She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears of frustration that threatened. Gathering her composure, she allowed her eyes to skim over Darvin, reclining next to her on the knoll. He seemed genuinely distressed for her, concerned. And he had such kind eyes. Now, where had that come from! Roshan had flirted with young men before, but had never really thought about their eyes, or if they were kind or not. And she certainly had no business being interested in Darvin, not when she would be wedded soon to another. Did she?

Roshan gave herself a mental shake and drew a deep breath, centering herself. She didn’t have time to think about Darvin, she needed to find a solution to her problem. Or at least a way to delay what her father had set in motion until she could show him that she did have a Truye-Bond and that he would be better for everyone than this foreigner her father had selected. She knew of many marriages, her mother’s included, which had been arranged to spouses they hadn’t met and many of them turned out well. But she just knew that hers wasn’t going to work out, that he wouldn’t be compatible with her and she wouldn’t be happy with him.

Darvin softly interrupted her musings. “Is it possible that the man your father has selected for you would be your Truye-Bond?”

“How could he be? He’s not from here, knows nothing of our ways, our traditions beyond what he’s been told, and the Gods only know how much of it he will remember or acknowledge.”

“You are certain then that a Truye-Bond will only be from your own country? Your own people? Couldn’t a Truye-Bond be anyone? I’ve been told that a Truye-Bond is comparable to having a soul mate, someone who sees you, understands you, loves and accepts you the way you are, with no desire to change you. Someone who has such a connection to you that it goes beyond time and distance. Is this fairly accurate? I mean, I know there are subtleties to a Truye-Bond that I am not familiar with, but would that description be reasonably correct?”

Roshan was startled. She’d never heard anyone make the comparison before.

“Well… I’ve never thought of it that way, but yes, that’s fairly accurate. The connection is so complete with a Truye-Bond couple, that they are supposed to be able to sense each other’s feelings and thoughts, even their hopes and dreams, before they have been expressed. That’s how it is supposed to be, anyway. Many of my people have given up finding their Truye-Bond, and simply settle for someone who is not vicious or cruel. It is why there are fewer children born each year, as well. Only Truye-Bond couples are able to have children. There are gifts, abilities, that are supposed to be part of a Truye-Bond pair, as well. Those have been diminished over the years. There is a legend among the people that some day the Truye-Bond Gifts will come back completely. People are always watching for the “green and red, blue and black”, but few know what they are watching and waiting for.” Roshan paused and trailed her fingers over the ground. “My family is one of the few that understand what they are waiting for. I am supposed to know, but my Father has prevented my Mother from teaching me yet. I suppose I’ll be told after the wedding.”

She frowned and rubbed her temples. Normally, talking with a young man made her uncomfortable. She always knew that the men she talked with were hoping that she would choose them to be her initiator, though none of them knew that her Father had forbidden it. She didn’t get the same feeling sitting here, alone, with Darvin. There was something about him. Something that drew her, that made her able to relax and be herself, able to talk freely. She would have to consider this further, figure out what it was that seemed to allow a connection she had never felt before.
As if to mirror her swirling, confused thoughts, clouds began to gather over the glade, blocking the sun. The doe and fawn melted into the surrounding forest, seeking shelter from the rains they felt approaching. Even the butterflies and beetles sought shelter, while Darvin and Roshan sat on the hill in thoughtful silence.

“When I have been taught the meanings behind the legend, I will be expected to pass that on to my child. Or… Children, I guess. Old Meg’s sister is so certain that I will have two children, possibly twins. That is so unlikely, though! Twins are so rare in my people, and have never been seen in my family.” She shook her head. “She must have been mistaken…”

“Why are you so certain? There are so many unbelievable things that happen every day.” Darvin smiled. “Tell me, did you ever expect to meet one of my people? Someone with wings?” He stretched his wings behind them to emphasize his point. “I noticed you looking at them, wondering about them. It isn’t something you’d ever considered possible before, is it? Why then would it be so hard for you to have more than a single child?”

Roshan blushed. She hadn’t wanted him to notice her curiosity. The Gods knew her Father had tried to quash her curious streak many, many times before. Had told her that curiosity was something only the lower classes indulged.

“Well, you do have a point.” She offered a shy smile. “I never knew someone like you existed. In fact…”

Roshan broke off as several cold, fat drops of rain splashed down on her cheeks. With dismay, she looked up, knowing that returning to the keep drenched from the rain was not a good option for her. Frantically, she looked for her mare. Astarte was no where to be seen, having drifted to the edge of the glade, still eating, to avoid the rains.

“Oh, Gods… Father will be furious!” Roshan threw her arms over her head and started to scramble to her feet.

Darvin reached out a hand to pause her, and she noticed that the rain was no longer pelting her. Confused, she sank back to the hilltop and looked around.
“Riding in the rain is never pleasant, for rider or horse.” Darvin commented. His lips quirked in a self-conscious way. “Besides, I come with a built-in shelter from the elements.” He glanced up, and then back to her.

Roshan looked up to see his wings flared above them, creating a perfect canopy to block the rain. A few cold drops of water slipped past the overlapping feathers of the wing above her. Shivering, she slipped closer to Darvin, smiling her thanks.

“So, where were we, when the rain so rudely interrupted your tale?”

Darvin’s warm gaze soothed Roshan as she settled back to tell him more.

*************


It was a completely different Roshan who brought Astarte back to the stables at a slow trot several hours later. She had a slight, sad, smile playing about her lips, and was completely lost in thought. For the first time, she untacked her mare in silence. None of the laughing, easy camaraderie she normally shared with the dripping wet guards who had finally found her a short while ago, when she was already on her way back to the keep. And they certainly had reason to be silent and disgruntled – they had been sent out to locate their Lady and had been caught out in the sudden downpour. It didn’t help their frame of mind to see her riding sedately home, nice and dry. It just added to their confusion, if anything.

She knew that both her parents would want to see her, scold her for running off without her guards, especially so close to her wedding day. Heading back towards the Great Hall, she paused. It would just infuriate her Father more to see her dressed as she was. Decision made, she changed direction and slipped up a back staircase to slip into her rooms undetected.

It almost worked.

“WHERE have you BEEN?!”

Roshan laughed. You could always count on your maid to be more vocal than your own Mother when it came to your appearance. After all, it reflected badly on them if you weren’t properly turned out. And Roshan knew she was definitely not properly turned out.

“I know, I know. I look awful, Maude. Please, help me change so I’m presentable when Father yells for me.” Roshan grinned unrepentantly at the chubby woman standing in the doorway of her room, hands on her hips.

“Hmph. As if he hasn’t been looking for you all day? I’m fortunate to still have any hearing left, the way he’s been storming around, wanting to know where you are and why didn’t anyone know where you went.” She stepped to the side and pointed into the room. “Well, get in here and let’s get you looking Lady-like. The sooner, the better, far as I’m concerned”.

Roshan swallowed a giggle. Maude might bark, but she would never bite. She knew her lady’s maid would help her hide the evidence of her crazy ride in the morning and what little rain had spattered on her in the afternoon. They’d been together for as long as Roshan could remember, and Maude had always scolded and then helped disguise any mess that resulted from whatever escapade Roshan had dreamt up. This was far from the first, or worst, and likely wouldn’t be the last. At least, she hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

© Copyright 2006 Squirrel Nutkin (janeskretvedt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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