Mystic Woods Ch. 2
#2 of The Mystic Woods
Once again by Keva Stonemane. Posted with permission Enjoy.
Oh, dear! Perhaps some of us have felt this loneliness Her Majesty is put to flight by!
In either event, it seems we've come to quite a dreadful set of circumstances indeed. How will little Worrin abate these tears?
Emara's steps were quick and silent, her body floating along over the stone of her estate as her soft sobs rang out and found the ears of her subjects. A few knew not what they heard, and dismissed them, but some few who were in her way found the source of the tiny sounds, and felt themselves the utter horror that Worrin held yet in his heart. But they did not know how to deal with this fear, while Worrin was more than capable of acting under these dire circumstances. Even as she ran ahead of him, taking one step to his four, he would dart by those she had left in her wake while speaking.
"This is only temporary, I'll have it fixed soon!"
As she sped onward, heading up the dark brown stairs to the second floor, her mind whirled and raged with emotion beyond restraint. It would start as a violent hatred, cursing and vilifying Johas and Teida for their insolence and discourtesy. But just as this hatred would reach its heights, the knowledge of her misguided emotion would hit her, and she would plummet back down into a sorrowful hatred of self instead. How could she hate them so when their only crime was an abundance of affection? Who was she to consider that a crime worthy of punishment?
"Your Highness, wait!" Worrin shouted, still sprinting after her with everything he had. She heard him full well, but his only reply was a loud, echoing, "Sniff!" that would only provoke the little fox to run all the faster. She wanted him to leave; all she wanted was to be alone and weep in solace...
"What in the world could have gotten her this worked up?" he thought, leaping up the stairs after her two by two, "Granted, they were rude... incredibly so at that... but that has never before caused her this much grief, not even close..."
The stone of the second floor hallways were of a yellow, almost golden hue, the torches used to illuminate the inner paths causing a glittering sensation off of the slate surface while giving Emara's silhouette a distinctly unearthly feel. Again, as Worrin sprinted after her, he would occasionally shout out.
"Your Highness, WAIT!" but to no avail; his Queen kept forth, and Worrin was forced to ask himself, "How in the world is she walking fast enough to outpace me?"
Up the next set of stairs they went, to the lone room of the third floor, Emara's personal chambers. The short hallway of rose-colored rock was here decorated with tapestry and weaving, the windows peering out over the courtyard and the forest as they took on the fiery glow of sunset's arrival.
Emara did not stop for this gorgeous scene. Rather, upon reaching the black and gold door to her private room, she wrenched open the aperture and slammed it shut behind her, almost crushing Worrin's closely following nose as he finally caught up to her. Though he managed to avoid that fate, he could not avoid bashing the whole of his body against the wooden gate, and he spent a moment shaking his head to gather himself before shouting out to her, "Your Highness, what has gone wrong? Why are you crying?"
There was no reply to his question, save the sobs that slithered under the door frame to him. Putting his ear to the door, Worrin strained to pick up any sound or word from her that may have been a clue as to the problem at hand.
"Stupid, worthless things!" She suddenly shouted, making her eavesdropper lunge up nearly a full foot in shock, "Eternal romance, love at first sight... Fairy Tales and silly myths! What garbage!"
A metallic smashing sound resonated from the private chambers, followed by a cascade of what Worrin judged was glass as it rained down upon the stone floor.
"Wretched filth!"
Another smashing sound followed, this one the splintering melody of broken wood as it too was dashed to the ground.
"Your Highness!" Came the fox's call one more time, "What-?!"
His sentence was interrupted by a final smashing sound, this one upon the door directly opposite of Worrin's ear. Clutching the side of his head in a momentary stupor, he was infinitely relieved to find that the sudden impact had opened the door just a crack. He pawed at the tiny sliver until it fully opened, and he wormed his way into the passage intent upon making sure his Queen was unharmed.
His eyes were nearly breaching the limits of his head as he took in the scene of destruction Emara had visited upon her personal bedroom in less than a minute. Pots and vases were smashed to pieces, covering the floor in glazed, decorative caltrops that Worrin took care not to step upon. The bookshelves in the back of the room were nearly empty, tomes strewn about the room with pages and bindings missing and dashed against walls in the Monarch's craze. As he padded closer to her bedside, Worrin found that the glass sound had been the destruction of her mirror, riven into countless shards of glass that mingled gaily with the splinters of broken chalices to make a veritable minefield for him to impale his feet upon.
But these were physical things, not worth much worry for their replaceable nature; Worrin's eyes were more intently focused upon his Queen, who sat on her bedside with her face deep within her slender-fingered hands. Choked sobs and small whines emitted from behind her trembling palms, making her unable to hear her advisor's approach until he had bounded up beside her, and sat upon her bed.
"I've never seen you like this before, My Queen..." he murmured, turning his head round a few times to inspect the chaos, "Are you al-?"
"Emara."
"Beg your pardon?"
"My name is not 'My Queen'... my name is Emara..."
"Emara, then," the fox replied, bowing his head obediently, "What has gone so wrong? What
could have brought you to do... this?"
"It is not my place to burden you with all of my worriments..." she sniffed, resting her elbows upon her knees, "You must understand the concept before mine first, remember?"
Worrin furrowed his brow, sifting through his memory for a second before the words came back to him.
"...So..." he murmured, uncertainty shaking in his voice, "You need... love?"
"Yes..."
"But you have plenty of that!" he smiled, sitting up tall and wagging his tail in wide, sweeping arcs, "Everyone in this Castle, this forest, and the whole land loves you! What more could you need?"
"If only it were that they loved me... but I'm afraid, Worrin, that they save their love for 'My Queen'... and why should they not? She gave them peace, happiness, a home, a cause... what could Emara have ever given them to measure up to that?"
This, admittedly, stumped him for a second. Her claw traced around the pieces of vase as he fumbled for an answer.
There's some Truth to her words, yes... I hadn't thought on it before, but aside from me, who spends any large part of their day at her side? How many people know her as more than the
woman they wanted as their Queen?
"But 'My Queen' would not exist without the people's trust in Emara in the first place."
It was her turn to furrow her brow, giving Worrin a second to continue forward even as he formed the thought word by word in his head.
"When you first came to this forest, you were just Emara to us. Some beautiful, two footed woman from some far-off land we'd never seen or heard of. But we learned to love you, and trust you, and eventually 'My Queen' rose from that assurance. She would never have been, even dreamed of, save for the love your people had for you and their trust in your leadership."
Emara sighed and ran a finger over the bottom of her eyelid, cleaning it of salty tears before speaking again.
"I hate to sound so spoiled, Worrin, but that is not what I meant..."
Again, the fox's brow furrowed, and he dug through his memory to search for this riddle's answer. A love beyond that which leads to cubs... could that be it?
"If love is what you want, then love is what we shall find for you," he beamed, selectively omitting the fact that he still was not sure what it was she was seeking, "What does one normally do first to find love?"
She had to giggle at his enthusiasm, uninformed though he was on the topic. Her paw reached out to pet at his ears, noting with a touch of pride how his expression seemed to melt when she did so.
"It's not another one of your formulas or sequences, Worrin; love is a very complicated matter. There's almost no way to tell how best to proceed without first having attempted it and found it right or wrong. But I think the best option is simply to become friends and let love blossom where it will."
"Mmm?" Was his reply, delivered in a 'keep going' tone as he indulged in his pampering.
"And there is the problem... I am always needed to be 'My Queen' instead of Emara; 'My Queen' does not make friends, that is not her duty, and so I'm afraid that making friends is... well... it's... fallen out of practice, so to speak..."
"It's not all that hard," Worrin replied, cocking his brow in response to her odd claim, "You just talk to someone and it just seems to... happen. What about that could need affirmation?"
Again, she let out a giggle at his no-nonsense mannerisms. Such a funny little fox; everything must have a spot, a place, an order, a system...
"Alright then," the Monarch smiled, sitting up tall and wiping her eye one last time, "If you're so erudite, then tell me; who am I to befriend? Who am I to trust with the task of reteaching me to be amicable?"
Worrin's paw rose up, and with a blatant smirk he chuckled, "Who else to advise you but your trusted Advisor? It would be no issue at all for me to teach you something like friendship, of course leaving ample time for 'My Queen' to attend to her duties."
She gave a small hum of thought at the idea. Never before had she taken the personal time to learn about any of those who had called themselves her subjects... it was an idea of some merit, certainly, but would it interfere with the rest of her kingdom? It was already a full métier attending to all her other work...
"I'll make you a deal," she replied, "I want you to go back downstairs and give my official apologies to Ms. Stoneridge and Mr. Tenprong, and I'm going to remain here and clean up the remains of my little ruction. I'll have my decision by dinner. Agreed?"
"Agreed!" Worrin smiled, gingerly leaping down to the floor and tiptoeing back toward the gateway over the carpet of spikes, "Should we invite them to dinner as a form of reparation?"
"It would be graceless of me to think of turning them away. And make sure they are given whatever accommodations they desire. She is a visiting Princess, after all."
"Of course," Worrin sighed, rolling his eyes in mock irritation. As he came to the open doorway, he turned on his heel and obediently sat, dipping his head in a bow as he announced, "I'll see you at Dinner, Your- ...Emara."
"No bowing," she smiled, wagging her finger at him admonishingly, "We're going to be friends, remember? When we're in private, don't treat me as a Queen."
He smiled in reply, and gave a nod of understanding. Propping back up onto his feet, he turned and slipped back through the doorway out of sight. Behind him, Emara let out a mirthful sigh, and bent over to begin cleaning the shards of what was once her favorite vase.