Paranormal/Futuristic
Arianna Penndragon
By Lesley
Aug 25, 2007, 19:14

                             ***

Dana lay exhausted in the great, carved bed. Her nightdress was soaked, as was the snow white hair that hung heavily against her cheeks. Patrick stood very nearby with the child in his arms. It had been such a hard birth, so much harder than with their son, Arlan. There was a strange expression in his eyes which made her heart feel like it would explode with fear. They'd waited so very long for their second child. So long that Dana had feared she might never again have a baby. Arlan was a full fifteen years old.

"Patrick, please give me the baby. Is it all right?" His eyes meet hers, and he laughed softly.

"She's perfect." He came to sit beside her pushing her damp hair out of her eyes and placing the tiny bundle in her arms.

Dana felt happiness well up inside of her. She. He'd said she. A baby girl. How she'd dreamed of having a little girl. Her visions and dreams hadn't even given her a hint of the baby's sex this time, but she'd so wanted a daughter. And what a daughter she was. Her tiny squinched up little face was capped with spun gold. She had never seen a child with hair so golden, and the tiny dark blue eyes that peered up at her were like sapphires.

Dana sighed happily and leaned back into Patrick's arms. It seemed now that nothing could ever be missing from her life. It was utterly complete.

Not so very many years passed. The baby, Fiona, grew to be adored by the entire kingdom. She could be found some days playing in the flower and herb garden perched atop the castle walls high above the city with her golden ringlets full of dirt and leaves. Others she might be discovered trying to catch the tiny fish that swam in the edges of the beautiful circular lake behind the castle. More often than not, however, she was at the side or close at the heels of her big brother, Arlan.

Arlan was a grown man of a full twenty years when he led Fiona to her mother for the fifth time that day. The five year old had made an annoying habit of coming to watch him practice his sword play in the courtyard. As much as he loved his little sister, he hadn't the time or the compunction to play nursemaid to her.

"Mother, can you please watch her a little more closely. Caedmon almost stepped on her in the middle of a battle." He could see by the slight twitch of his mother's cheek that she was working very hard to suppress a smile, but she at least managed a stern look at the little girl as she set aside her needlework and took her into her lap.

"Fiona, how many times has Mommy told you not to go in the practice yard while the soldiers are training?"

"But I missed, Arly, and . . ."

He spoke angrily at her. "Don't call me Arly. My name is Arlan. I let you do that when you were little, but no more." When those velvety blue eyes widened with hurt all the anger melted away and he felt very guilty, which he knew was exactly her plan. "You little devil, stop that now. I won't fall for it." He knelt down in front of her and kissed her chubby, little cheek. "I will play with you tonight all right? Right now I'm busy."

"But Arly--" A stern look made her change her mind. "Arlan, I miss you now. You promised you'd take me on a ride today."

Dana spoke then smoothing the little girl's wild curls with her fingertips. "Darling, Arlan has a lot to do today. We have guests arriving tonight, remember?"

Arlan felt his stomach tighten suddenly. Of course. The ambassadors all the way from England. How could he have forgotten that? There were certainly things to do today. He bowed quickly to his mother and Lady Morgan who sat beside her before making his escape.

Lady Morgan was mother to his best friend, Caedmon. He'd grown up with Caedmon who was only a few years older than himself. They were almost never apart. Whether they were training or drinking one was never too far from the other. As children they'd terrorized the servants of the castle with their pranks, but now it was the ladies they terrorized. Both were handsome and considered a great catch. Arlan after all was heir to the throne of Sithein, and Caedmon would be his highest ranking soldier and adviser.

Arlan set off at a jog, his worn practice armor jingling as he went. When he arrived at the courtyard his friend was hacking away at a wooden dummy. Caedmon was short in comparison to most, but more so when compared to Arlan who towered over almost all the men in the city. His dark red hair just brushed the tops of his shoulders as he swung the sword back and forth.

Arlan took his place quietly behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. When Caedmon paused to look with satisfaction at the practice dummy which now looked a bit like kindling, Arlan tapped him on the shoulder and brought Caedmon spinning around with a look of surprise in his brilliant green eyes.

When he saw that it was only Arlan the surprise turned to annoyance, and he whacked his friend's arm with the flat of his blade. "Don't do that, man. I won't live to see Christmas."

Arlan gave him a warm smile, but there was something else behind it. Caedmon searched his mind for anything that might be the cause of it, but it came up a blank. "You'll perhaps not see Christmas, if you don't remember to remind me about the things I tell you to."

Caedmon's eyes went wide again. "Oh, the ambassadors?" His best friend nodded and Caedmon dodged a playful punch.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said trying to avoid the usual pummeling he received when these things got out of hand. "There isn't time for this. There are things we need to be doing."

A very sly grin appeared at Arlan's lips. "You're right, my friend. They could be bringing their women. And while I always look my best, you need serious work." He clapped Caedmon on the back and smiled, then the two of them set off back to the castle to prepare.

King Patrick smiled to himself and shook his head. The years had been so good to them all. He rubbed the thick, black beard that was now salted with white and remembered. At Arlan's young age Patrick had been a full grown man not just in body as his son was, but in heart and mind as well. He'd fought with his father from the age of fifteen. He'd seen horrors no man ever should. These were things that, thankfully, his son had never experienced and hopefully never would.

Arlan always talked of how he wished for adventure and battle as most young men did in their ignorance of what the cold hard reality of it was. They'd never had to see the look of fear and surprise in a man's eyes as a sword was plunged into his heart.

Patrick shook his head to clear it of the awful memories. This wasn't a day to think of such things. There were guests to be greeted and a feast to see to. But first...

Dana looked up from the head of golden curls that she'd just managed to tame into a braid as Patrick entered the room. His ladies were both so beautiful. Dana hadn't aged more than a day since they were wed. Her pure white hair might lead one to believe she was an old woman, but one glance at the young face and figure would put away the idea. Of course the ambassadors tonight would think he'd married a woman of half his age. The thought brought a grin to his lips. She might look a child, but she was only a few years younger than himself. He thought now of how she'd looked when first he'd seen her. She was just a scrawny, little thing with golden tresses tangled in leaves and dressed in rags.

He raised a hand to his forehead touching the streak of white there. He knew it was still obvious despite the fact that all of the rest of his hair was turning white as well. He'd earned that streak the same night all of Dana's hair had turned snowy white. She'd saved him with her incredible healing powers when an assassin had mortally wounded him.

Dana wasn't like other people. She was the child of dragons. That's why she was still so youthful. She would look the same for centuries to come. At least that's what her mother had told her after they were reunited. Her kind lived for millennia. Their children, however, they were still not sure about. It seemed that with half-dragon half-human children, you simply had to wait and see what would happen. Sometimes they lived a human life span other times they lived one of a dragon.

It wouldn't be long before they were able to tell what Arlan's fate would be. Dragon's come of age at around their twentieth year and then their aging slowed to that which was so obvious with Dana. The thought that the children might not live as long as she would terrified Patrick. He knew he'd only be around a very short time in comparison to her, but if she was all alone . . . That would be something completely different.

"Darling, why do you look like you just lost your best friend? Keefe will return before tonight, remember?" Dana's sweet voice pulled him from his thoughts. It was a very welcome escape for him.

"Aye, I know, my love. Just thinking of old times." He turned his attention to Fiona swinging her up into his arms and kissing her cheeks softly. "And how is the world's most beautiful princess this afternoon?"

"Father, Arly promised to take me riding today and now he says tomorrow, and I know tomorrow he'll say tomorrow again."

"Well, we'll just have to have a talk with him about that won't we? But in the meantime, I'll take you out right now."

Dana reached up and touched his arm drawing her eyes down to her again. "Patrick, the ambassadors--"

He smiled down at her. "Princess Fiona will be riding to meet them with me. Won't you, your majesty?"

Her eyes sparkled, and she nodded wiggling down from her father's arms. Patrick watched Dana and Fiona proudly as she set the silver tiara atop the little girls head, weaving the ends into her hair so that it wouldn't fall out when they rode.

When Dana was through fussing with Fiona's hair and dress, Patrick lifted the little girl onto his shoulder and started out to the stables. With the afternoon there had come a delightfully cool breeze to push back the heat of the stifling sun. It was almost midsummer's eve. Soon they would have to cross the channel to Scotland to visit with Dana's family. She was a princess after all, and it wouldn't do to have the princess of the dragons missing their year's biggest feast.

After his war horse had been saddled, he climbed on pulling Fiona up in front of him so that she sat between his arms and couldn't fall off. Then they set off toward the gate of the city to greet their visitors.

                              ***

Arianna had been riding along side the duke for only an hour or so since the sun had set, but her joints were already aching from the bumpy gait of the horse. She was so thankful that they'd ridden the rest of the long journey in carriages. It was much more practical that way. This far north in summer the nights were incredibly short. It would've taken them forever to make any progress at all if they were only able to ride at night.

This last bit of the journey was just for show. They were all dressed in fine clothes. Arianna herself had cropped her hair short in the fashion that young squires seemed to favor and was dressed in fine, sparkling plate armor. Her servant, Phillip, had complained about how long it had taken him to get it shining and warned her of the dire consequences she would incur if she were to let it get as dirty as it had been again. The duke used her as a body guard on these occasions. After all she was four times as strong as any human and well trained at the sword. She was very slim so she could pass fairly easily for a young man. As long as her hair was kept clipped short, and she kept her helmet or hood pulled down to mask her features.

She watched the horizon for anything out of the ordinary. They were a small traveling party, but they could certainly take on any foe that might approach. There was the duke, who sat on his enormous chestnut horse beside her. He wasn't a particularly large or imposing man. He was only a little taller than Arianna herself. His hair and eyes were pale as was his skin. He might have appeared almost completely white were it not for the crimson of his traveling cloak which brought out a rosy color in his cheeks.

On the other side of him sat the duke's other child. He was relatively young looking as well, named Stephan. He had been no more than thirty when he was made a vampire. That was around ten years before Arianna herself had been changed. Stephan was a large man with light brown hair and brooding hazel eyes. He always seemed to be angry which made Arianna very uncomfortable. She suspected that her being made one of the Duke's children was the main reason behind his anger. Before the Duke had brought her back to Aston Castle, Stephan had been at the top of the food chain. Now woman or not, Arianna was on equal footing with him.

Then there was her own servant Phillip who rode behind her. He was a kind man, with a delightful sense of humor. His green eyes sparkled with laughter most of the time. He was fiercely protective of Arianna as was she of him. She trusted no one else enough to confide in them about anything large or small.

There were two other servants as well. A conniving young woman named Gwendolyn, who was the duke's servant and a rather meek young woman who was Stephan's. There was also a groom to take care of the horses, but he'd been sent ahead with the carriage containing their things the day before.

They were riding through some of the greenest hills that she'd ever seen. It was like a whole world covered in emeralds. There was a small stream that crossed the road and sparkled in the moonlight. Her mare skittered a bit beneath her as she was startled from her half dozing pace by the echo of her own hooves on the wooden bridge.

In the distance she was beginning to see a glow of light on the horizon and the moonlight outlined a city with high walls of dark stone. This must be Sithein. It was smaller than she'd expected. She'd heard so many stories of the great war that had raged many decades over it, that she'd assumed it would be much larger and more important looking than this. It was so small when compared to the great cities of London and Paris whose walls spread out on either side as far as the eye could see.

As they came nearer they could see that the whole city was lit up with torch light from the front gates in a snake of light following the road into the city. There were four men dressed in fine clothing and two rows behind them of eight men each dressed in battle armor. They must have been royal guard, Arianna decided, as she could make out the same crests on the front of each of their tunics. A blue tunic with a golden lion.

Two of the men in the front line were middle aged and the other two were nearer to the age that she appeared to be. One of the older men was wearing a crown of gold on top of a head of black hair and had a small blond headed girl sitting in the saddle in front of him. She was a beautiful little thing also wearing a crown.

When they came within a few yards of them, the traveling party stopped and the duke bowed his head as did the four men on horseback across from them. The man with the little girl on the horse and the crown atop his head smiled at them and then spoke in a deep voice. "Welcome to my city Duke Ashton. I'm King Patrick and this is my son Arlan." He indicated a black haired man with curious blue eyes and then nodded to the other middle aged man to his right. "This is my consoler, Lord Keefe and his son Caedmon." Both of these men young and old had green eyes, and fiery red hair although one was dusted with gray.

Arianna's gaze fell on the younger, and he looked over at her suddenly their eyes meeting. There was a puzzled expression in the green depths of his eyes, and she quickly averted her gaze. Letting it slide back to the other young man. All of the men were attractive, very attractive in fact.

A small whimper drew Arianna's eyes back to the little girl. The king laughed. "Forgive me, and this is the Princess Fiona."

"Enchanted, my dear." The duke spoke with his characteristic charm. "Thank you for the welcome, your majesty. I bring the greetings of my people. I hope that we can arrange a great alliance between our two lands.

"Aye, as do I, but for now no talk of politics. I invite you and your guard and servants to take part in an evening of feasting in your honor.

Arianna groaned inside. A night of pretending to feast did not put her in a pleasant mood. She could no longer eat like normal humans. Their food made her ill. The only thing she could even drink now that gave her any feeling of fullness was blood. They'd had their fill the night before. The inn where they'd stayed hadn't been lacking in clients who would remember nothing because of all the wine they'd drunk. Her head still spun remembering how dizzy she'd been afterwards. It seemed that if the blood one drank was full of alcohol then it had much the same affect on a vampire that the actual drink had on a mortal.

They were led into the city which was quaint but very pretty and well taken care of, and what she saw before her was amazing. In the middle of everything was an enormous castle rising up above it all. There were many towers rising up from it. The dark stone glittered in the moonlight like frost on leaves. She could now better understand how this city had become so legendary. It was truly enchanting.