1,478a/n: After an infuriatingly long wait and bout of extreme dryness in terms of writing and socially, I am back. Sadly, not with a vengeance. I am so, so sorry for the delay of this chapter…and after leaving you guys with a cliffhanger, too! Words cannot describe my remorse. I have rolled around in agony over my laziness and inability to update. Happy dagger, this is thy sheath!
Yeah.
Thank you, everybody. Thank you to everybody who has reviewed, and I'm sorry I can't reply to all your reviews—I'm too eager to update, and to answer all of you would take a few hours, I think, because so many apologies are needed! I love you all. I adore you. I'm putting every single one of you up on a pedestal—your choice of stone.
I would, however, like to address one reviewer in particular. (No, lol, this is not a KILL, KILL! reply, actually.)
Xxcerise: Thank you. No, honestly, thank you! Your words are all true, and much appreciated. Offended? Not very. A little tiffy, but not offended. I need constructive criticism, as everybody does, and yours was straight to the point.
Yes, this story is stupid. However, that is really its sole purpose in life—to be stupid and silly and 'Oh my god, what was the author thinking?' And I truly appreciate your wading through the whole thing to review—it shows that you really do have basis for your criticism, and that makes me feel all smiley inside. Lol.
This story started out as a parody and evolved into a monster somewhere between chapter 2 and chapter 3. (Sadly, your positive comment is not well deserved…the reason that the contact between Ray and Ash is so minimal is because I'm too much of a chicken to get them to really come together.) Of course the characters are clichéd—I started writing this when I was in a manga/anime phase, and I've been stuck having to use the same writing style for this story to remain consistent. This story has been on prolonged hiatus because I really don't like this story nor this style of writing anymore—but I hate to leave things unfinished, so here I am again.
I would, however, like you to check one of my more recent stories with a different style of writing—'Here be Monsters'. I can promise you that the use of capslock is minimal—in fact, I don't think I've used it at all in that story. If you will offer some constructive criticism at that one, it would be much appreciated. (You don't even have to read through more than the first chapter, really…) I hate to solicit the other reviewers' and your attention this way, but it is the only way I can think of to reply back, for I don't think you've gotten my email…Aaaah. But anyway, thank you very much for your constructive criticism. I'm going to try to implement it into my other stories, as this one is beyond hope, so thanks again! (And I'm really not trying to be all, 'Oh! I must be sweet and kind and gracious to my criticizer! I must be nauseatingly honey-sweet! I must smile fakely and thank the reviewer through stiff lips!' Ha. As if I, who am sometimes still stuck in the terrible-two syndrome, could even pull that off…) But yeah. Again, thank you!
Warning: This chapter features extreme switches of temperament. This chapter is a yoyo. This chapter is a rocking ship and the author is beginning to feel rather seasick but is still clinging determinedly to the barnacles on the side. This chapter is rather strange because I have written it over the course of months and, as such, it is rather choppy. And very irrational in places. The clinging author apologizes in advance.
Recap: Thus far, I have managed to entangle myself in a stupid heroine contest, made a number of mortal enemies, fallen hopelessly in love with the prince, have passed all the rounds by the skin of my head, and am currently stuck in a dimension that is surely some little minor kingdom of hell.
No, I am not having fun.
Emotions. You know, I've never really dwelled too much on emotions and emotional strength, because as far as I know—there isn't really any need to. They can just be expressed. No need to analyze them; or test the impression they make on other people. Never really cared much about the latter, anyway.
In other words, I'm a very emotional person. Especially when I'm PMS-ing, but…
You didn't need to know that.
But I digress.
Right now, I was not having very much fun with my emotions. They ran away from my (disused and dusty) control, and I was insanely happy and then depressingly sad and then ferociously angry and then…
And then I didn't know what I was, because my emotions were being led on a string and without free expression of feeling I didn't feel like me.
"Please…stop…" I whispered in the dark vacuum that interchanged between a sunlit landscape to a stormy, thorn-hedged maze.
And that, apparently, was where I was to stay.
Without any of the lovely conveniences that usually come with temporary places of residence. Like those cute little bars of soap, and the cute little bottles of shampoo, and the fluffy white towels that always smell perpetually clean instead of that muggy smell towels get when they've been used for too long.
So. Anyway, I didn't get my towels.
I was gifted with an overwhelming sense of despair. My self-confidence level dropped to sub-zero temperatures. I…
I wasn't strong enough to handle everything.
But oooooh, no. This, apparently, was not enough for this last and final dimension. The fact that I was practically dying of misery and grief and pain didn't affect the dimension's shriveled heart in the least.
As I recall, Neie didn't warn us how terribly heartless these rounds were.
Because this? This I could not take. This was one thing that I couldn't get through with smiles or self-righteous anger or even accidentally.
Because emotions don't work that way.
Sadly. And here's one for the record: I would prefer if this final round involved sharp, pointy, metal objects or even my nonexistent magic. Because, with those, at least I have a slim chance of passing.
By accident. But that's beside the point, because although I had said my emotions were the strongest part of me, I was beginning to doubt that.
Pictures flitted in my mind's eye as whatever force was controlling the Big, Creepy Voice took my insecurities and manifested them into real images. Needless to say, I wasn't finding this a very likable experience at all. In fact, I felt like I was literally going insane.
"SO, LITTLE GIRL." Big Creepy Voice chortled, shaking the dimension I was in and dizzying me. "YOU HAVE MANAGED TO PASS ALL THE OTHERS, NO? BUT YOU HAVE YET TO PASS ME."
It's only some balding, fat mage behind all these worlds, I tried to tell myself. It's only an acne-infested, smelly redneck behind all these images and words and pain.
It didn't work.
In the path between two tall, imposing hedges lay my mother. Or not really my mother; an image; but it seemed like her and it was so real—down to the tiny wrinkle at the corner of her mouth to the long, slim neck to the pale, sickly skin and visible blue veins.
"No," I whispered. "No, don't do this to me. Don't do this to me."
The image's hand lifted up and beckoned for me, and I was drawn inexorably forward.
"Hello, child," She said, in a whisper of a breath, and it sounded so much like her that I was suddenly six years old again. "Hello, Ray."
I knew what was coming next. I knew; for it was the reason that I felt so strongly about her death and the reason that I needed to be strong for Father and for myself.
"I need you not to cry for me," The image was saying softly, a small smile on her chapped lips. "I need you to smile. I need you to live, and be strong, and laugh instead of sinking to that bottomless chasm of darkness—I couldn't resist that; but I need you to."
I nodded, biting my lip while tears poured down my cheek. My nose felt suffocatingly congested from crying.
It was probably as red as…as…Well, Tweety's eyes when he was particularly evil.
But then something changed in the vision. Something changed, that hadn't happened in real life—or maybe it had, and I had only blocked it out because it was so nightmarish. I couldn't tell anymore.
"After all," The wraith sat up, her hair covering most of her face. "After all…a murderer doesn't cry for her victims." And she turned to face me, and instead of a face all I saw was a corpse.
"Nooo" I screamed, backing away and shuddering in a mixture of fear and revulsion of both the corpse and myself. "No, I didn't do it! I didn't mean to do it! Didn't, didn't, didn't! Mama, I didn't mean to!"
Because the week before she had died, I had forced her to stay outside with me on the hill and dance. I had pleaded with her to stay outside with me in the rain so we could look at all the star princesses in the night sky. I had made her stay out in freezing rain with little on but a thin dress when she had already been getting sick.
She woke up the next morning, delirious. I never saw her again before she died and the coffin was laid to rest.
"I'm sorry." I bit out, shoulders heaving and nose running. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" My breath was coming out in gasps. "I didn't mean to. I didn't. I'm so sorry…"
I'm sorry. It's my fault.
I would have taken your place.
I would have died for you.
.
Somewhere in another world, Prince Ashenar heard a distant bell ring. Somewhere in another world, Ash's purple eyes widened in fear before he spun around, whispering her name on his lips…
He collapsed in a dead faint.
.
Somewhere in yet another world, a creature that went by the name of 'Toadman' lifted his head up, narrowing ancient eyes (that, of course, had seen much more than many females would have liked). Something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
.
Right. Quite frankly, I'm not always like this. I'm usually quite normal, aside from not-so-sporadic bursts of temper, sugar sprees, embarrassing moments and other related matter. Before I entered this stupid contest, my moments of abnormality were, well, less.
NOT ANYMORE, YOU EVIL WORLD WITH EVIL PEOPLE AND EVIL WINDS AND EVIL MEMORIES AND EVIL TEARS AND EVIL…
Wings?
Although wings weren't exactly evil. Wings were actually rather comforting, in a white-itchy-feathery sort of way.
Tears still dripping down my face, and eyes still glistening with pain, I looked up in a half-trance as the image of mother vanished and all I saw were deep pools of purple and shining silver and…
"Angel…" I whispered dreamily. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to stay stuck in this world…I wouldn't have to go out and face everybody…wouldn't have to hear about and see Ash marry someone else…I wouldn't have to deal with this constant pain…
No, it wouldn't be so bad at all.
"This is so not cool."
My eyes snapped open.
My mind suddenly registered everything at lightning quick speed—a record, for me. Purple eyes. Silver hair. Gentle touch and soothing voice…
Oh. My. Gods.
"Wings?" I turned around as the being to my right side started muttering irritably. "Wings? What am I, a bird?" Said wings started flapping, and I, being unfortunately situated near them, was buffeted from side to side with their powerful beats.
Flailing about with a mouthful of feathers in my mouth (Oh, yuck, yuck, yuck, who knew where these things had been while going through the Dimensions of Doom?), I let out a squawked, "Oomph!"
And my angel suddenly whirled around. "Ray…"
Oh my gods, I hate my life.
.
Right. You know, I get the whole cliché of encounter after encounter after encounter with Important People. I get the whole idea that the gods are playing around with us and are greatly amused by our misfortunes. I get that. I get that, of course, Ash and I will continually meet again and again and again because it is so goddamn important for the plot of the gods.
What I don't get?
Why can't he ever see me when I look nice? Why must he always see me when I inevitably have a bright red pimple that shines like a beacon in the middle of my forehead and my clothes are unflattering and frumpy and my eyes and nose are puffy from crying and I look like I'm wearing a rats nest made of purple fluff?
AND I'M INVARIABLY SUFFERING FROM THE EXTREMITIES OF WEATHER, EMOTIONS, AND/OR STRESS?
That's what I don't get.
.
Ash liked annoying people—it was one of his hobbies, and he was pretty damn good at it, too. Ash didn't like popping into dimensions with great big feathery poofs on his back to see the girl of his dreams staring incredulously at his ridiculous state of being.
Indeed, he found it quite annoying.
His own medicine didn't taste very nice.
POP!
And Ash most definitely didn't like it when talking toads popped in out of nowhere and started leering at his would-be girlfriend (would-be-girlfriend if royal duties didn't create some complications that Ash was sure he could eventually skip over).
.
Toadman didn't have a name. Not really—he just went by whatever name his charge felt like. (These names usually had something in common with 'Pervert', 'Toad', and 'Little Old Monk Man That Stole My Mommy's Panties'.)
Now, seeing as how Toadman (as he was currently being called) so graciously accepted these names, and how sagaciously he looked after his heroes and heroines, he was of the opinion that said heroes and heroines were his responsibility and his responsibility only. No ditzy fairies, no bouncy elves, no imposing wizards, and certainly no upstart young princes were to interfere with it.
So it didn't grate very well on Toadman when he was forced to pull in Prince Ashenar to help.
Not for the first time, Toadman wondered why he was always assigned the crazy ones.
.
Great. Let's just have a party while my mother's corpse looks on in enjoyment.
"What…?!" I managed to splutter out, looking back and forth between Ash and Toadman. "Oh, wait, I forgot. This is another dimension. Well, let me tell you this. I've already had enough with insecure sphinxes, suffocating blindness, and nasty mothers. I can't deal with a perverted monk and…and you, too. So go away, because you know what? I QU—"
I was tackled to the floor by one strong prince and one tiny Toadman, who took the opportunity to cop a feel. I'm afraid to say that I lashed out at Ash instead.
He let out a strange sort of grunt as he rolled off me, winded.
"I wouldn't finish that sentence, if I was you." Toadman remarked cheerfully. "Unless you're quite serious. You utter those words and you're immediately pulled out of this world and disqualified from the contest."
"It's not like I care. Who wants to win him?" I lied. And not very well.
"I'm hurt, Ray, I really am. Do you mean to tell me you don't care for me at all?" He fluttered pale lashes at me.
I growled at him.
He stopped. And took my hand. And traced my palm in a rather distracting manner.
Not fair! Ref, I call a foul!
"Well…" I squeaked, and pulled my hand out of his embrace. "Stop that! I can't think when you do that!"
"Do what? This?" Ash grabbed my hand back and kissed my knuckles.
I hate him. I told him so.
"Love you too, sweet," He said absent-mindedly, still brushing his lips over my fingers.
I melted into a puddle of goo.
"If you two lovebirds are done flirting, let's get back to business." This from someone who was staring down my shirt.
But, of course, no one cares what I think.
Just as I turned back to scream/rant/insult Toadman some more, there was a whooshing noise and the disembodied voice came back, sounding notably displeased.
"NO INTERFERENCE!" It whined. This was a rather strange effect, as the voice was deep and boom-y, and whining didn't fit its image. Sound. Whatever. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. NOW GO BACK TO CRYING."
I felt like a damn yoyo. Angry and then depressed and then crying and then lethargic and then angry and then annoyed, and then giggly, and then angry again. Let me tell you; it isn't fun.
There was a noise like that of a vacuum, and then Ash and Toadman were suddenly gone. (Dimly, I thought I heard angry shrieks in the distance. I wasn't sure whether they were from Ash and Toadman or a carnivorous animal about to eat them and not succeeding. Although it would be a pity if Ash's rather gorgeous body was wasted in the intestines of vulture-like creatures.)
I could hear the creatures now. "Oooh, lookie! Great Big Poompah Voice has gifted us with fooooood! Yummy! (Attack Ash and Toadman. Eat Toadman. Are defeated by Ash as he employs all the princely swordfighting things I'm sure he's learned. Ooo. And let's make him shirtless, just for kicks.)
Drool.
Ahem.
There was something…incorrect, wrong here. I didn't know what. Just…Ash…
I dunno. There was just a strange sense of foreboding; as if something bad was looming in the distance. Something clashed between Ash and I.
"Right." I clapped my hands and stared brightly into the distance. "Shall we start from where we left off?"
.
I knelt by the figure of my mother again.
I knew she wasn't real. That much I knew, now that my overwhelming grief-party had been interrupted by the untimely appearance of Toadman and Ash. But I also knew that I needed to finally resolve this situation, and what way to resolve it than face-to-face?
Er, face-to-face with a hologram, but that's okay.
"Hello, mother."
"You!" The hologram shrieked, pointing a finger at me. "It's your fault that I'm dead!"
"Yes, yes." I impatiently waved the finger aside. "And I assure you that I've suffered from it and that I'll be paying for the therapy for a long time. But I think that we must settle something."
The illusion paused, looking completely befuddled.
I took a deep breath (again), and wondered why it was so hard to do this, even though it was only a hologram; only bits of sparkly magic all stuck together to create a seemingly solid figment of my imagination who only caused unduly pain. "Hello, mother."
"MURDERER!"
"I have come to beg your forgiveness."
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"
"I realize that I was, perhaps, neither the most considerate nor the most intelligent of daughters. You told me to be strong, and I have failed."
"DISOBEDIENT DELINQUENT!"
"Although you have to admit that it was partly your fault, as well. You didn't exactly specify what you meant by 'strong'. Ah. But where was I? Oh, yes. Like I said, I am sorry—I…I guess I've forgotten you. Because with all the chaos that's been going on over the past couple of months, I think that I've finally figured out something."
"I NEVER WANTED TO GIVE BIRTH TO YOU, AT ALL!"
"I love you, Mother, but it wasn't my fault you died and I am strong and I've found true love and I think that in another life or another time I would take it. Good-bye, Mother. I love you so, so much and I miss you so bad, sometimes, but I think I'll have to bear it because…because you're only a ghost, in the end."
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
"And shut up. I've had enough of your shrieking."
.
I landed on the polished floor with a thump, closely followed by Ash and Toadman whom, I was displeased to note, both landed on their feet.
My poor ass. It was going to need some serious physical therapy after this.
…Not that way, sickos.
The whole room was silent as they stared at me. I noted that Ana and Triliasia were also in the room—both bearing strikingly dissimilar expressions on their faces—and was silent for a moment, registering the fact that I had come in last and prodding at my feelings about that.
Pause.
Silence.
Someone shuffled their feet.
Someone harrumphed.
Someone let out a small gas emission that was hugely audible in the death-like silence and muttered an embarrassed apology.
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!" I jumped up and punched my fist in the air. "I made it! I'm aliiiiiiive! I'm meeeeee! All my body parts are here! I SURVIVED!"
Everybody carefully stepped away from my flailing limbs.
"Ha! Ha ha ha! Aha ha ha ha ha!" I bounded over to Ana, unconcerned with my unbathed and unbrushed state of matter, and grabbed her, attempting to do the polka and dismally failing with no apparent drop of spirit. "Ana! I did it!"
"But…Ray…" She half-laughed, half-cried as her tone volleyed between exhilarated and morose, as if to tell me a piece of news she wasn't certain I would like, "Ray…you lost."
I didn't stop. "Doesn't matter!" I cried with glee. "I made it out alive! I finished the last round, and I made it to the top three so what care I if I can't marry Ash, regarding the limitations of the contest?"
"Hey!"
"What care I if both of us dwell in the misery of lovesickness because some measly little contest was lost?!"
"Hey!"
"And what care I if he is forced to marry Trilly here and take the throne and sit on the hard seat all day without relief and without the joy of seeing my face beside him?"
"HEY!"
And I shut my eyes against sudden pain, and brightly turned back to Ana. "Come on. Now tell me all about your little journey of pain. I can't wait to hear what terrible tortures you endured. Unmatching shoes? Lack of appropriate attire for heroine voyaging? Or—gasp—unmanicured fingers?"
"Funny, Ray; very funny."
Why, I do believe I'm rubbing off on her.
I didn't look back at Ash as I pulled Ana along with me, out the room, as he and the rest of the people frowned at my retreating back.
There were some things I would have to resolve.
The coward's way.
.
"Free!"
A glass slipper went flying, and Ana was only able to miss it by a fraction of a hair's width. Thank gods for heroine instincts.
"Free at last!"
A heavy piece of jewelry that bore strong resemblance to a collar went the way of the slipper.
"No more rabbit food! No more abject humiliation! No more Neie! No more crazy creatures under the strange impression that I am a magical creature magnet! No more dresses! No more—"
"No more Ash, Ray."
I ignored her, returning to flinging and ripping and throwing with even more gusto. "No more itchy nightgowns! HA! Take that, you evil piece of lace and rash-inducing fabric. No more horses! No more possessed, sentient things that really shouldn't be sentient at all! No more anything-that-annoys-me!"
"Ray, did you hear me? No more Ash."
I stubbornly refused to meet her eyes, and drew a mustache on a portrait of a stuffy old lady in a poofy dress. "No more sneering courtiers! No more lobster forks and cake knives and grape spoons and lettuce sporks! No more crazy midnight escapades! No more rolling down hills! No more chases…and no more smirks…and no more…no more…no more nothing." My voice gradually got hoarser and quieter and lower until I was crying at the end; crying tears I didn't know I had left in my system as my exhausted body heaved with grief.
"Oh, Ray…" Ana glided over, enfolding me in soft arms and tried, "It's okay. You'll work something out! C'mon, Ray…you're you! Where's that grin, eh? Where's that smile and that attitude? Cheer up! It'll work out. Look…look at all those letters he's sent you through the door…he adores you, Ray; make no mistake about it."
I snuffled into her shoulder, and she seemed to take it as a 'yes'. Grinning widely, Ana pulled away. "There. It'll all work out in the end."
I managed a weak, quavery smile that I hoped Ana would think was weak and quavery because of the tears. "Yeah, huh? Pretty silly of me to be crying over something stupid like that…"
Ana left after reassuring herself that I was fine and would be fine. Taking all the letters, I contemplated burning them…and then stuffed them into the bottom of the sack I would be taking with me as I packed up and prepared for one of the hardest things I was ever going to have to do. Harder than confronting the horse. Harder than enduring all the sneers and smirks of my fellow wannabe-heroines. Harder than hating Ash and harder than loving him.
"Well." I surveyed my now neat and empty room, once again dressed in the outfit I had started off with and smoothing down the wrinkles in the worn blue dress. The knockings on my door had ceased after the first few times, and I was grateful for the silence. "It's over, now, isn't it?"
And with that, I flung my sack out the window, closed my eyes, felt the ears pop out, and jumped over the window frame to land safely on the grass below. It was time to go home.
.
They all received letters that night when they dressed for bed and glanced at their pillows. The letters weren't fancy. They were far from it. They were written on the cheapest paper made in the kingdom with the blackest ink and covered with numerous blobs of the liquid. The letters had not been written by a scribe, for the handwriting was uneven and scrawled in crooked, hard to read letters that wobbled up and down on the paper instead of staying in one straight, smooth line.
Dearest Ana,
I hope you will forgive me for this. (Er, in addition to starting the letter with something as presumptuous as 'Dearest'.) I hope you will forgive me for leaving without a last word, and for lying to you—for lack of speech or contradiction to some assumed statement would be a lie, would it not?
It's hard to explain.
I just…Agh. Ana, you know I wouldn't make a good queen. And if not queen, I would not settle for the mistress of the king. I could not bear being the 'other woman', as I very well would be, for Ash needs to marry someone suited for his rank and station in life. I could be all clichéd and say something about how I'm a commoner and he's a prince and it could never be, but that's not true. That's not why I can't…(as corny as this sounds) be with him
I know he would marry me without a second thought. I know he would, and that's what scares me, because it wouldn't be right. I couldn't help the kingdom. I mean, what would I do? I'm not a heroine. I can't go around gallivanting about the countryside rescuing people while he deals with kingly, diplomatic stuff. I'm not a trophy wife; and I'm not ready for children, yet.
I'd be useless.
It's selfish, I know. But Ana…
Ana, you're my friend. And I don't have very many friends, and I have no clue how you've become mine. I need you to understand why I'm making my decision. Please…I'm not really strong. And I am rather weak and foolish and overemotional. But hey, that's me.
Ash needs to be king. You know it; I know it; everybody knows it. He'd make a great one. But not with me there. I'd only hold him back—and I'm vomiting out all these clichéd phrases and words, but hey, I can only speak in clichés, after all.
I hope you and Donny will work out—I know you will, and I will take the liberty of inviting myself to your eventual wedding.
I'm going away, Ana. I can't tell you where, for I know you would tell Ash, and if not Ash, you would tell Donny, and he would tell Ash, and my plan will be completely ruined and its purpose defeated. Give everybody my love. Remember to rub Vex's belly and beware of his teeth and fire. Don't forget to thank everybody for everything they've done; and throw a piece of cabbage at the cooks for me.
I'll miss you.
Love, Ray.
Dearest Darlingest Lady Neie:
I AM SENDING YOU SOMETHING VERY SPECIAL. SHALL I GIVE YOU A HINT? IT IS ROUND. IT IS CLEAR. IT IS RATHER TOXIC.
HAVE A NICE NIGHT.
THE STINKBOMB APPRECIATES YOUR CONSIDERATION IN PROVIDING IT WITH LODGING FOR THE NIGHT.
Hugs and kisses, darling.
Lady Larasia.
Oy, Trilly,
I'd advise you to stop stalking the prince, because specially trained guards are now seeking you, and I'm afraid even your heroine skills won't save you if Ash/Shane feels even remotely uncomfortable while you are near. After all, these specially trained guards are from a little known region in the east called Anihc-Napaj. They like using pointy objects and can jump to heights that rival mine.
Bon voyage, sucker.
-The purple-haired Freak
My dear Ash/Shane/Whichever-you-prefer,
Gee, you noticed.
Ha. Funny how those were the first words I ever said to you; and the last.
Gee, you noticed.
You noticed how I blush whenever I'm even in the same room as you, did you not? You noticed how lost and lonely I was, and you noticed how much I loved you. 'Love' doesn't begin to describe it. You're my angel; you're my song. You're my soulma
Your Majesty,
I regret to inform you that
Ash—
I'm sorry.
I love you.
Ray.
.
The sun. The sun. THE SUN BURNED!
Damn fair skin. Damn sunburn. Damn it all.
Wincing each time any facial muscle moved and stretched my blistered skin even the tiniest bit, I shouldered my pack and continued onward. One step. Two step. Just a few more, girl, and you'll be there. You'll be home.
A few minutes later, I heard voices in the distance, and my face split into a grin. The village. I could hear my village now, and it was only a matter of time until I got back and settled back into my old lifestyle. And I didn't even harbor any strange ideas or doubts about being able to settle back in. Of course I would be able to. After all, I had been living that lifestyle for eighteen-odd years, right?
Shifting my sack a bit more and brushing wayward leaves out of my hair, I put an extra bounce into my step and walked faster along the dirt road as the sun beat down. Zippah dee doo dah, Zippahdee-ay! My o my, it's a wonderful day…Plenty of sunshine—although perhaps that's not such a good thing—heading my way—definitely not—Zippah dee doo dah, Zippahdee-ay!
"Ray?"
I turned to my left, blinking in the bright sunlight. "Milly? Is that you?"
"Omigawd, Ray!" the rather blurry figure in front of me squealed and launched herself at me in a blur of flying hair and skirts.
"Omigawd, Milly" I squealed back, hugging her and jumping up and down, letting out squeaky little 'Omigawds!' as they were the only noises I seemed capable of making. This was home. I was finally home.
Eventually, we pulled away, and Milly looked appraisingly at me. "You've…changed." She said thoughtfully, before her face lit up. "Omigawd, Ray! You lost your virginity, didn't you?"
"No! You perverted freak!"
Milly laughed, and grabbed my arm, dragging me down the road with her. "Come on. You have to tell me aaaaaalll about it—what's the prince like? Is he as handsome as they say he is? Eeeee! I'm so excited! And guess what."
"What?" I asked, thankful that the subject of the prince was passed over for now.
"I'm getting married!"
The 'Omigawd!'s started all over again.
.
The nuptial ceremony between Milly and Jobe (he had gone to the village school with us—a quiet, large man; he was greatly amused by my dark-haired friend's energy and enthusiasm) was a lavish one, as Milly had always wanted. It took place a month or so after my return to the village—I dodged questions about the contest for that month, and the subject was dropped when people realized that I didn't want to talk about it and wasn't going to. Not even Milly knew the full details. She was only aware that yes, indeed, Prince Ashenar was very handsome and that no, I hadn't really spoken or come into contact with him at all.
…Half-lies.
Yanick, amusingly (er, not that I was amused, of course) had left the village shortly after my refusal of his suit and married another young woman the next village over. He had died soon after, leaving his widow quite comfortable and happy in her new, fairly large house and moderate wealth.
Father, on the other hand, had fallen in love. It was both entertaining and vaguely sickening to watch him moon over the teacher of the village school—and to watch her shyly bat her eyelashes at him when everybody knew that she was well-aware of his feelings and heartily reciprocated them.
The amount of romance in the air couldn't be healthy. I blamed Milly. Weddings always bring out the most revolting sappiness in people.
Still. The wedding was beautiful, and when Milly cast me a wicked wink as she and Jobe headed off to their new house and wedding bed, I knew that everything was wonderful. Nearly. Mostly.
With everybody else.
Still. It wouldn't do to dwell too much on the past.
Brushing my hands free of flour, I called out to the servingmaid, "One chicken pot pie, coming your way!" The Laughing Llama, named after an exotic animal that had recently made its way to our kingdom, had recently made its way into our village and I had been hired as cook.
Amazing, the things you pick up while longing for a proper meal in an evil castle.
I shook my head free of those kinds of thoughts.
"Lillian!" I yelled again over the noise of guests. "THE CHICKEN POT PIE IS READY!"
"On my way, Ray! Oooo, hey, that rhymes!"
…Yeah. Lillian gets easily distracted.
Grabbing the dish from me and wincing at the heat, Lillian rushed over to the waiting table. Turning my attention away from her, I raced over to the oven and took out four more loaves of bread and ran over to the huge pot over the fire to stir the stew. The heat in the kitchen was nearly unbearable. The sweat was pouring off of me.
Ew. I felt gross.
"Bread!" Someone hollered.
"It's coming!" I shouted back, wiping sweat off my forehead, washing my hands, and asking over the noise, "Who wanted the stew?"
"Me!" Six people shouted back.
Aaaaaah!
Lillian came back to me, her face flushed with excitement and eyes glazed over in an expression that could mean only one thing—gossip. "Guess what?"
"What?" I said, hassled, trying to fit more potatoes into the boiling pot of water at my side.
"The prince is searching for a mystery girl—and he's sending out messengers all over the country trying to find her! It's just like Cinderella! Only, without carrying a stinky shoe around for weeks. Ooooo, isn't it romantic?"
"Yes, very nice." I muttered, before shouting exuberantly as I managed to fit that last potato in. "Eep! Lillian, get the stew and the bread to those six people! Now! Where is that Braden? He's supposed to be helping me here, right now!"
"I don't know where he is. Probably out back, flirting with some girl." Lillian muttered.
"Ooooohh…he's gonna get it. Now go and do your job!"
She raced off with four plates of stew precariously balanced on her limbs.
…Wait.
What was it that she had said?
Ah, shit.
.
Rumors had it—however hard I tried not to listen to them—that Ash was seriously training for the pressures of royalty. And, unsurprisingly to me at least, living up to it. According to these very same rumor-mongers (of which there were many), it was now Ash who was running the kingdom, although it was all done in the name of his father.
I didn't doubt it. New proposals and actions taking place in the kingdom over the past two months had borne ve-e-ery Ash-like qualities.
Such as funding for entertainment troupes, provided by the Crown's Treasury.
And then there were the more solemn ones; like the illegalization of forced marriages.
…This one was obvious.
Ash didn't end up marrying Ana (who had come in first), for she had refused to marry him and had, according to the grapevine, moved in with a shapeshifter fairy who was somehow related to the Prince. (Scandal!) I was rather proud of her. Ash didn't end up marrying Trilly, either, as she had been examined by medics and was discovered to possess mild mental instability. (After this dismal failure of finding a bride for their wayward son, the King and Queen were probably sobbing into their silk sheets right now.)
Ash didn't end up marrying anybody.
I couldn't decide whether I was selflessly disappointed that he wasn't marrying someone who would benefit the kingdom or gleeful that he was still open for me.
GAH! NOOO! BAD THOUGHTS!
I wondered if he had changed any since last I saw him. I wondered if I would even fit into his life—if I ever had. After all, his parents had made it clear that they wanted no part of me.
Sometimes, though…sometimes I wish I had stayed.
Gods, I miss them all.
Closing my eyes and opening my mouth to breathe in deep (my nose was feeling clogged and nasally and puffy), I went back to cutting vegetables. They wouldn't know where I was. They couldn't. I hadn't ever told anyone where I lived; only that I came from a small village.
And the kingdom was conveniently populated with millions of those.
.
a/n: I know. It was abrupt. It was a fantastic specimen of unedited, crappy writing; and my humor is gone! –wails- Gone gone gone gone gone! Never to return, gone! It's very sad.
So. Apologies for the crappiness. I hope I didn't disappoint too much, after the disgustingly long wait for this chapter…? Anyway, I think the next chapter will be the last chapter. (Yes!) I'm begging you guys to hang on for just a little longer!
Please review!
P.S. My gawd, I'm so excited! I'm going to be updating! -squeals-
…Wow, I'm a dork.