| Once more, the dawn breaks cold, this time over a hovel deep in the woods. Inside, the young copper-haired woman stirs from her pallet of straw on the floor by the fire; the months have passed, her swollen stomach protruding from beneath the threadbare blanket covering her form. Slowly the early dawn light filters in through the unshuttered windows, casting a pale light on the dingy interior, revealing the mounds of fabric, mending and laundering tubs that dot the room. Dirty bare feet poke out from below the blanket as the morning struggle to rise, begins for the young, very pregnant young woman. Slowly, and with determination, she makes it to her feet, her chest heaving with the effort of starting another new day, alone, and cold. . .
Her hand pressed into the small of her back, she goes through her morning ablutions, her once proud shoulders drooping with fatigue, and more than a bit of defeat. She had so hoped Maman would have believed her by now, or that Drace had been found, but, neither was to happen. "And so, I will bear you, and raise you alone, ma p'tite," her voice is soft, and hoarse from disuse, as she murmurs to her unborn child, " 'Twill be you and I, little one�" With little enthusiasm, she nibbles on a crust of hard bread, and a small rind of cheese to break her fast, a mug of clear water at her hand before she glances to the piles scattered about the room, sighing softly. The time has come to deliver what has been done, loathe as she is to make the long journey into the village alone and with such a large load, she has no choice, if she wishes to eat, she must be paid. Once more, she pushes herself to move, though her body would rather stay at rest on the uncomfortable bench, her slow steps taking her to her once fine, now worn and tattered from ill use, cloak. With practiced ease she arranges the ill-fitting garment over her shoulders and abdomen, and a rough, homespun scarf against the morning chill. She pauses another moment, to catch her breath, and her balance from even this simplest of tasks before picking up a basket of neatly folded laundering to return to its owner. Again, she pauses to catch her breath, before stepping out into the pristinely white winter world outside her small, one room hovel. A soft nickering precedes her arrival at the shelter to the back of the hovel, a faint smile graces her lips, at the greeting from her sole companion. Her great stallion replaced, reluctantly, by a highland pony with a dun coat. "Come along, we've a trip to the village to make today. " With a stamping of hooves, and a steamy snort, the pony steps out of the lean-to, head bobbing as he steps through the crisp snow on the ground, pausing only long enough, in its' plodding to accept the burden of the basket on it's back, a lead rope attached to the bit and bridle it wears. No other sound between them, but the sound of foot and hoof crunching in the crisp snow, and the heavy breaths in the chill winter's air of the burdened pair. |
| Clutching her torn gown to herself, Celaeno slides down the wall slowly, giving in to the tears burning just behind her eyes, the sobs wracking her bruised and battered body, well into the night. Moon light filters in through the heavy draperies, limning the room in a soft silver, the soft howl of a wolf calling to it's brethren is heard, a low mournful howl. Celaeno stiffens at the sound, feeling a strange kinship to the howlers, and closes her eyes, as she pushes herself back up the wall. "I leave tonight then, Maman�" She whispers softly into the night, even with no one else to hear her, and prepares for the journey, and the lonely life, ahead. She pauses, putting her hand on her stomach, making the promise that she will never let this happen to her child. She picks up the bag she has back, with clothes, and her jewels, and her beloved paints and brushes, after adjusting her heavy cloak over her shoulders, pulling her hood low over her face.
As she makes her way through the silent corridors, to the door, she looks neither left, nor right, nor back. Without a word, she slips through the grand double doors at the front of the house, and to the stables, retrieving her restive black stallion, and saddling him herself. "And so, it ends, thus it begins.." She mounts him, and rides off into the night. |
| A New Dawn |
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