chickadee
New Yorker
Hey everyone!
I have decided to put Up Close & Personal on the back burner just now. I'm not really enjoying writing it at the moment and my ideas aren't very good. I might come back to it later on, but in the meantime I have a brand new fic for you which I am much more excited about!
It's AU so it's my own little world and it's set in some made-up time in the past. It's totally not real or historically accurate, I'm not bothered about that! This is a short first chapter to get things going and see what you all think.
Thanks for the support with the other fic and hope you like this one!
Kat x
Heartland
Chapter 1
Ella’s heart thumped in her chest as she ran the miles to her house. A heavy feeling of dread settling upon her as she neared, an instinct telling her that everything was not okay. The rain began to fall, a steady trickle than soon turned into a downpour; she was soaking as she somehow covered a huge distance in mere seconds. Then she was at the front door, stepping inside, breathless, discovering to her horror that her family had all been turned into scaly dragons, fire coming from their nostrils. She tried to touch them, to hug them and reassure them she’d come back to rescue them, but they only wanted to attack her. As the group of them started backing her into a corner of the living room, Ella screamed and cried, wondering how this had happened to her. Where had her family gone, why were they so evil? Couldn’t she trust anyone?
The largest dragon advanced, smelling blood where Ella had apparently cut her hand, though she hadn’t noticed before. She pleaded and begged to no avail, and a cold wave of nausea threatened to overcome her…
“Help! Please help!”
Ella’s eyes flew open; she found herself sitting upright in her uncomfortable bed, staring wildly into the pitch-black of the dungeon. Her pulse was racing in her throat and her breathing was gasping, erratic. She ran a hand through her hair and felt sweat on her forehead, cooling in the night air and making her shiver.
“Oh God, thank God,” she moaned, utterly relieved it had only been a nightmare. A nightmare based on very real issues, but she didn’t have the energy to think about those at the moment.
“Ella? Are you okay?” A male voice drifted to her ears from somewhere in the room, and it took a few panicked moments for her to realise it was Larry, her friend, and not some part of a bad dream.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, taking a deep breath and wishing she had a warmer cover. A quilt would be nice. But there was no point wishing for things she wasn’t ever going to get. “Just woke up.”
“Sounds like you had a nightmare again.” Movement, scuffling, and then a weight beside her on the tattered mattress. Larry was there and his hand was on her face, soothing her. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Ella sighed. She felt pathetic for needing Larry so badly, but he was the only other person who really understood what she was going through, because it was happening to him, too. Both of them were trapped in this castle, slaving away for no wages and terrible conditions, all because they’d been unlucky enough to be ‘enlisted’ by the king. Larry had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as for Ella, she’d been sold by her parents into working at the castle. She supposed it was this fact which kept bringing the people she used to trust most into her dreams at night and turning them into monsters. That’s all they were good for, in her mind.
And yet she knew she still loved them, because how could she stop? It was impossible, and it was this which made her situation even less bearable than it would have been normally. She’d never told Larry that, though; she was too ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling automatically better now that Larry was with her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, settle down. I’ll keep you company, okay?” Larry brought his equally-shoddy blanket over to lie on top of hers, giving them a double layer, and snuggled into the small makeshift bed beside Ella. She turned towards him and let him wrap an arm around her, kissing her nose and whispering that he was here. She allowed his warmth to seep into her and let her drift off into a sleep that was, thankfully, much more peaceful.
***
Queen Sophie stretched in her luxurious four-poster bed and smiled as her husband rolled over to kiss her good morning. She opened her eyes fully and looked at him. Harry was the kind of man every girl wanted to marry when she grew up. Stereotypically tall, dark and handsome, he possessed a fast wit and strong arms. He also happened to be a king.
He’d already been a king when they married. Sophie was eighteen at the time, Harry already twenty-five. Now she was nearly that very age, and she still counted herself as lucky, even though her mother had picked Harry for her from a very young age. They’d been destined to be wed; Sophie’s wishes hadn’t really come into it. But it had worked out fine, because she loved Harry and enjoyed being a queen. She had so much power to wield over people poorer than she was. She owned countless ballgowns and dozens of priceless diamond necklaces. Her hair was always perfect – arranged for her every day by her favourite maid, Marie – and everything was done for her. Practically the only thing she did herself was go to the toilet, and even then there was someone waiting outside in case she had trouble or needed anything.
Sophie didn’t mind all the attention in the slightest. She revelled in it, because she didn’t know any other way of life. She’d been born into a relatively wealthy family already and she’d married Harry young enough to quickly get used to the ways of royalty. She just accepted that was how queens lived.
She also accepted that Harry was a fairly harsh ruler. He didn’t like anybody to challenge his authority, and that included his wife. He liked to start fights and invade villages, sometimes just because it was a Sunday and he was bored. He wasn’t particularly benevolent towards the many beggars who turned up outside the castle walls, hoping for a little charity, and it was well-known he treated his servants with hardly any respect. He wanted the best for himself and his wife and nobody else really mattered to him. Sophie thought that was romantic.
Sometimes he was in a foul mood and would shout at everyone, including Sophie, but she never took it seriously. He was a passionate, fiery man and she loved him for it. They seemed to work well together, by all accounts, and their marriage remained steady after over six years.
Right now, he was proving his worth to her in other ways as his kisses grew deeper. He tried to move on top of her, but she laughed in protest and pushed her hands against his chest.
“Darling, I’ve just woken up,” she said as sweetly as she could. “Let me have a bath first?”
He didn’t look pleased. “I love you,” was his automatic response. It sounded more irritated than heartfelt.
She nodded. “I know, I love you too. We can… later, okay?”
Harry grunted some sort of affirmative and let her get out of bed, where she accepted a silk dressing gown from Marie and followed the older woman into the large bathroom, where a hot bath full of delicious scents had already been run for her. Sophie slid out of her gown and nightdress before stepping into the soothing water, hoping Harry wouldn’t stay too angry at her for rejecting his advances. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him or want him, but in the mornings especially he was often a bit too rough, and she’d rather enjoy a nice cup of tea and having her hair washed for her by her servant. And if she admitted it to herself, he was becoming less and less considerate of her feelings and desires. But then, she’d never really told him what she wanted. It simply wasn’t expected of her.
“Have you anything planned for today?” Marie asked in her soft voice as she carefully rinsed the shampoo out of Sophie’s hair.
“Not really,” Sophie replied, closing her eyes so that the soap didn’t go in them. “I might go for a walk in the gardens after breakfast. And I’ve that quilt to finish, haven’t I?”
“His Highness told me about the banquet tonight. Are you looking forward to that? All the singing and dancing.” Marie sounded wistful, as if she wished she could attend in a capacity other than servitude.
“Oh, yes. Of course! I love music. And it’s always so much fun sitting with everyone, hearing the stories. You’ll have to find my red dress, Marie, and make sure it’s ready for this evening. I want to look my best; it would never do to show my husband up!” Sophie laughed to make out her comment was light-hearted, but in truth she was constantly worried that one day she’d slip up and Harry would be ashamed of her.
“Certainly, ma’am. Your hair is finished; I’ll wait outside while you enjoy your bath.” Marie gave a small curtsey before exiting the bathroom, leaving Sophie alone with her thoughts about Harry and the banquet.
***
Edge poured himself a large drink and sighed as he stared around the empty tavern. He couldn’t help but think of a time when the place would be full of customers, drinking and talking and laughing. Having people to interact with made time pass quicker and made working seem less of a chore.
Recently, however, conditions in the town and surrounding areas had been getting steadily worse, and people had little or no money to waste on enjoying themselves. The taxes had increased thanks to the king and as a result many were struggling to make ends meet. When some did manage to scrape enough together to pay a visit on a Saturday evening, they’d tell Edge all about their troubles, seeing him as a sympathetic ear. Of course he was sympathetic to what was happening – it was impossible not to be moved by tales of hardship from men who were usually joking or women who normally had a sparkle in their eyes. Everyone looked a bit more grey and sad, and it affected Edge, not just in the sense that he was losing business, although that wasn’t exactly great news.
He sighed again and drank deeply, wishing he had the impetus to sell up and move on somewhere else where the prospects might be better. Edge had many skills apart from bartending and being a good listener, and occasionally he entertained mad thoughts like packing up his few possessions, clothes and books and guitar, and leaving this all behind. Taking a wild chance, finding out what might happen. It had to be better than sitting here alone, staring at the walls.
But that was easier said than done. Edge cared about the community in which he lived, and he knew running away wasn’t necessarily the answer. Everywhere he went he was sure to encounter some problem or other; things like loneliness didn’t simply disappear because you lived in another village. And besides, Edge didn’t have a clue where he would go. The real friends he had weren’t around much any more; Edge didn’t even know where some of them had ended up. So many other places had been invaded or controlled that it was difficult to keep in touch.
Edge stood up and headed behind the bar to pour some more mead. After all, there was plenty. His back to the door, he picked up the big bottle and was just about to tip some into the glass when he heard a warm, familiar voice behind him, giving him such a fright he almost dropped the bottle.
“Nice to see you again, Edge.”
TBC
I have decided to put Up Close & Personal on the back burner just now. I'm not really enjoying writing it at the moment and my ideas aren't very good. I might come back to it later on, but in the meantime I have a brand new fic for you which I am much more excited about!
It's AU so it's my own little world and it's set in some made-up time in the past. It's totally not real or historically accurate, I'm not bothered about that! This is a short first chapter to get things going and see what you all think.
Thanks for the support with the other fic and hope you like this one!
Kat x
Heartland
Chapter 1
Ella’s heart thumped in her chest as she ran the miles to her house. A heavy feeling of dread settling upon her as she neared, an instinct telling her that everything was not okay. The rain began to fall, a steady trickle than soon turned into a downpour; she was soaking as she somehow covered a huge distance in mere seconds. Then she was at the front door, stepping inside, breathless, discovering to her horror that her family had all been turned into scaly dragons, fire coming from their nostrils. She tried to touch them, to hug them and reassure them she’d come back to rescue them, but they only wanted to attack her. As the group of them started backing her into a corner of the living room, Ella screamed and cried, wondering how this had happened to her. Where had her family gone, why were they so evil? Couldn’t she trust anyone?
The largest dragon advanced, smelling blood where Ella had apparently cut her hand, though she hadn’t noticed before. She pleaded and begged to no avail, and a cold wave of nausea threatened to overcome her…
“Help! Please help!”
Ella’s eyes flew open; she found herself sitting upright in her uncomfortable bed, staring wildly into the pitch-black of the dungeon. Her pulse was racing in her throat and her breathing was gasping, erratic. She ran a hand through her hair and felt sweat on her forehead, cooling in the night air and making her shiver.
“Oh God, thank God,” she moaned, utterly relieved it had only been a nightmare. A nightmare based on very real issues, but she didn’t have the energy to think about those at the moment.
“Ella? Are you okay?” A male voice drifted to her ears from somewhere in the room, and it took a few panicked moments for her to realise it was Larry, her friend, and not some part of a bad dream.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, taking a deep breath and wishing she had a warmer cover. A quilt would be nice. But there was no point wishing for things she wasn’t ever going to get. “Just woke up.”
“Sounds like you had a nightmare again.” Movement, scuffling, and then a weight beside her on the tattered mattress. Larry was there and his hand was on her face, soothing her. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Ella sighed. She felt pathetic for needing Larry so badly, but he was the only other person who really understood what she was going through, because it was happening to him, too. Both of them were trapped in this castle, slaving away for no wages and terrible conditions, all because they’d been unlucky enough to be ‘enlisted’ by the king. Larry had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and as for Ella, she’d been sold by her parents into working at the castle. She supposed it was this fact which kept bringing the people she used to trust most into her dreams at night and turning them into monsters. That’s all they were good for, in her mind.
And yet she knew she still loved them, because how could she stop? It was impossible, and it was this which made her situation even less bearable than it would have been normally. She’d never told Larry that, though; she was too ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling automatically better now that Larry was with her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, settle down. I’ll keep you company, okay?” Larry brought his equally-shoddy blanket over to lie on top of hers, giving them a double layer, and snuggled into the small makeshift bed beside Ella. She turned towards him and let him wrap an arm around her, kissing her nose and whispering that he was here. She allowed his warmth to seep into her and let her drift off into a sleep that was, thankfully, much more peaceful.
***
Queen Sophie stretched in her luxurious four-poster bed and smiled as her husband rolled over to kiss her good morning. She opened her eyes fully and looked at him. Harry was the kind of man every girl wanted to marry when she grew up. Stereotypically tall, dark and handsome, he possessed a fast wit and strong arms. He also happened to be a king.
He’d already been a king when they married. Sophie was eighteen at the time, Harry already twenty-five. Now she was nearly that very age, and she still counted herself as lucky, even though her mother had picked Harry for her from a very young age. They’d been destined to be wed; Sophie’s wishes hadn’t really come into it. But it had worked out fine, because she loved Harry and enjoyed being a queen. She had so much power to wield over people poorer than she was. She owned countless ballgowns and dozens of priceless diamond necklaces. Her hair was always perfect – arranged for her every day by her favourite maid, Marie – and everything was done for her. Practically the only thing she did herself was go to the toilet, and even then there was someone waiting outside in case she had trouble or needed anything.
Sophie didn’t mind all the attention in the slightest. She revelled in it, because she didn’t know any other way of life. She’d been born into a relatively wealthy family already and she’d married Harry young enough to quickly get used to the ways of royalty. She just accepted that was how queens lived.
She also accepted that Harry was a fairly harsh ruler. He didn’t like anybody to challenge his authority, and that included his wife. He liked to start fights and invade villages, sometimes just because it was a Sunday and he was bored. He wasn’t particularly benevolent towards the many beggars who turned up outside the castle walls, hoping for a little charity, and it was well-known he treated his servants with hardly any respect. He wanted the best for himself and his wife and nobody else really mattered to him. Sophie thought that was romantic.
Sometimes he was in a foul mood and would shout at everyone, including Sophie, but she never took it seriously. He was a passionate, fiery man and she loved him for it. They seemed to work well together, by all accounts, and their marriage remained steady after over six years.
Right now, he was proving his worth to her in other ways as his kisses grew deeper. He tried to move on top of her, but she laughed in protest and pushed her hands against his chest.
“Darling, I’ve just woken up,” she said as sweetly as she could. “Let me have a bath first?”
He didn’t look pleased. “I love you,” was his automatic response. It sounded more irritated than heartfelt.
She nodded. “I know, I love you too. We can… later, okay?”
Harry grunted some sort of affirmative and let her get out of bed, where she accepted a silk dressing gown from Marie and followed the older woman into the large bathroom, where a hot bath full of delicious scents had already been run for her. Sophie slid out of her gown and nightdress before stepping into the soothing water, hoping Harry wouldn’t stay too angry at her for rejecting his advances. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him or want him, but in the mornings especially he was often a bit too rough, and she’d rather enjoy a nice cup of tea and having her hair washed for her by her servant. And if she admitted it to herself, he was becoming less and less considerate of her feelings and desires. But then, she’d never really told him what she wanted. It simply wasn’t expected of her.
“Have you anything planned for today?” Marie asked in her soft voice as she carefully rinsed the shampoo out of Sophie’s hair.
“Not really,” Sophie replied, closing her eyes so that the soap didn’t go in them. “I might go for a walk in the gardens after breakfast. And I’ve that quilt to finish, haven’t I?”
“His Highness told me about the banquet tonight. Are you looking forward to that? All the singing and dancing.” Marie sounded wistful, as if she wished she could attend in a capacity other than servitude.
“Oh, yes. Of course! I love music. And it’s always so much fun sitting with everyone, hearing the stories. You’ll have to find my red dress, Marie, and make sure it’s ready for this evening. I want to look my best; it would never do to show my husband up!” Sophie laughed to make out her comment was light-hearted, but in truth she was constantly worried that one day she’d slip up and Harry would be ashamed of her.
“Certainly, ma’am. Your hair is finished; I’ll wait outside while you enjoy your bath.” Marie gave a small curtsey before exiting the bathroom, leaving Sophie alone with her thoughts about Harry and the banquet.
***
Edge poured himself a large drink and sighed as he stared around the empty tavern. He couldn’t help but think of a time when the place would be full of customers, drinking and talking and laughing. Having people to interact with made time pass quicker and made working seem less of a chore.
Recently, however, conditions in the town and surrounding areas had been getting steadily worse, and people had little or no money to waste on enjoying themselves. The taxes had increased thanks to the king and as a result many were struggling to make ends meet. When some did manage to scrape enough together to pay a visit on a Saturday evening, they’d tell Edge all about their troubles, seeing him as a sympathetic ear. Of course he was sympathetic to what was happening – it was impossible not to be moved by tales of hardship from men who were usually joking or women who normally had a sparkle in their eyes. Everyone looked a bit more grey and sad, and it affected Edge, not just in the sense that he was losing business, although that wasn’t exactly great news.
He sighed again and drank deeply, wishing he had the impetus to sell up and move on somewhere else where the prospects might be better. Edge had many skills apart from bartending and being a good listener, and occasionally he entertained mad thoughts like packing up his few possessions, clothes and books and guitar, and leaving this all behind. Taking a wild chance, finding out what might happen. It had to be better than sitting here alone, staring at the walls.
But that was easier said than done. Edge cared about the community in which he lived, and he knew running away wasn’t necessarily the answer. Everywhere he went he was sure to encounter some problem or other; things like loneliness didn’t simply disappear because you lived in another village. And besides, Edge didn’t have a clue where he would go. The real friends he had weren’t around much any more; Edge didn’t even know where some of them had ended up. So many other places had been invaded or controlled that it was difficult to keep in touch.
Edge stood up and headed behind the bar to pour some more mead. After all, there was plenty. His back to the door, he picked up the big bottle and was just about to tip some into the glass when he heard a warm, familiar voice behind him, giving him such a fright he almost dropped the bottle.
“Nice to see you again, Edge.”
TBC
