meredith_eldritch (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} meredith_e) wrote,@ 2008-07-09 20:10:00 |
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A New Queen Is.
A New Queen Is.
As she was standing before the fire, it’s dancing light, moving up like a snake to caress her face and reflect in her eyes, she wondered why this custom older than the books in the Old Library had to be kept even in this socially proclaimed modern era.
It was dark at night, the moon was full and glowing with a tender white light, almost as strong as the day sun and the smaller; distant stars, like her vassals and court people, peeked down at her, adding to the number of earthly court people who were already watching her with their eyes filled with expectation.
Her heart was pounding in her chest and no matter how tall she stood before the judge this fire represented, deep down inside of her soul she felt little and miserable. For a second, she felt like running away. The very next second, she thought she could jump in the fire and be judged even more deeply, right down to her soul. But that would be escaping and as the new queen, she simply could not do such an act.
She looked up to the moon.
A New Queen Is.
As she was standing before the fire, it’s dancing light, moving up like a snake to caress her face and reflect in her eyes, she wondered why this custom older than the books in the Old Library had to be kept even in this socially proclaimed modern era.
It was dark at night, the moon was full and glowing with a tender white light, almost as strong as the day sun and the smaller; distant stars, like her vassals and court people, peeked down at her, adding to the number of earthly court people who were already watching her with their eyes filled with expectation.
Her heart was pounding in her chest and no matter how tall she stood before the judge this fire represented, deep down inside of her soul she felt little and miserable. For a second, she felt like running away. The very next second, she thought she could jump in the fire and be judged even more deeply, right down to her soul. But that would be escaping and as the new queen, she simply could not do such an act.
She looked up to the moon.
“Mother Moon, in your white light help me go through this ceremonial without fail, give me the strength I need to accomplish my duties and give me the courage I need to succeed the judgement I am about to face.” She said in a surprisingly calm tone of voice as she was personally addressing to the night’s ruler.
“Fire – you who are the sent messenger of Father Sun – take my outer appearance in your devouring mouth and see that underneath I do not hide lies, treachery and falseness. You will see my flaws – as all my court and kingdom shall see them – and you will judge me upon who I am underneath my rich gowns and jewellery, for I am underneath, like my people.” She recited from the learned text, following the ceremonial scrupulously.
The fire seemed to gain in height and voracity at the hear of the offer to be made. In fact, the richest gown was made for this ceremonial, such as a set of jewellery that would be thrown in the fire, as a complete renouncement of artificial boundaries. It was not what the ruler was wearing that made of it a good one; it was the purity in the heart and the ability to renounce completely to signs of wealth and power.
The young queen first took off her golden crown and threw it in the fire. The first sacrifice – the symbol of her power over the others, and watched with curiosity as the fire made a small wave of powerful hungry flames, eating away the gold, melting the shape of the crown. Then she slipped from her fingers all her rings made for this night, of precious stones and metals and distributed them to random people of the country who in return, gave her the food and wealth throughout the year by working in her fields and by that, staying loyal to the ruler of the castle. Those rings were to be kept by the families, kept inheritance for the years and centuries to come, given from parent to child. To access the most random countrymen and countrywomen possible, the young queen walked among them and simply took off one of the many rings from each finger and gave it to whom ever she had eye contact with.
After all her fingers were set free of the rings, symbols of her own attachment to the castle and the ruling party, sign of allegiance to the throne she had to keep and defend as much as the country people, the army men, the knights and various vassals who had swore to protect the kingdom, she walked to take back her position before the fire: turning her back to the castle’s main entrance, facing the fire and the village people. This is how her ancestors all followed the ritual since the very beginning. It had no matter which sex was the ruler, all men and women were obliged by law, upon crowning, to follow this ritual and be judged and seen by all – or at least by whom was assisting the ceremony.
“Fire, you are my judge tonight, I give you my royal gown so that I can prove I am no different from my people. If my people love me enough, they shall clothe me before I return to my castle. If they do not love me, nor accept me as their queen, I shall spend the requested time as a land worker to gain my food and shelter.” She continued, her voice now loud and strong, facing the most difficult part.
With serenity and courage, she started to unlace the front part of her corset, letting loose the gown to slip down her shoulders. She looked at the fire, her eyes fixing the moving light, trying not feel shy about the situation. Of course she was educated to face this, but any man or woman, having to face the population naked is found vulnerable and fragile and the feeling of it seems to be multiplied by the amount of those who remain clothed.
She threw the golden lace in the fire and within a few sparkles it was gone. She let down her arms, on the sides of her body but not touching her hips and the upper part of the gown fell smoothly to the ground around her. A white silk shirt, with flowers and birds of mysterious and exotic lands embodied on the arms and around the neck, the corset of pale pink silk also richly worked with silver and golden threads representing a hunting party in the woods and a gauzy layer of cloth fell to her feet. She then untied the thread of her long skirt, on both sides and let all fall, revealing her totally naked body to the quiet spectators.
Delicately and with studied gestures, she leaned to pick up her clothes and threw them in the fire. Silk burnt in a fraction of a second it seemed and only perfumed smoke – not that anyone could distinguish it from the general smoke odour – quietly disappeared in the night air.
Her eyes were fixed on the fire and she tried to look calm and breath normally. In her soul she was crying. The crowd was as silent as the dead and they all watched the huge fire, she hoped more impressed with the flames than by her naked body.
She suddenly recalled the story of one of her female ancestors who had been whistled by a man in the crown and how embarrassing that must have been. Another male ancestor, a distant cousin, had to wait a long moment in front of the fire before the first man offered him something to cover his nakedness. She hoped, she prayed none of this would happen to her. This was enough of a humiliating ceremonial, even if now she just started to understand the true meaning of the words and the symbolism.
It was not just a public spectacle of her completely naked facing the people she reigned over. It was not simply the only time she showed them her vulnerability. It was the one moment of any ruler of her house to show the people that appearance was not a frontier between them. Of course the people pledged loyalty to her or who ever was ruling the country, but this ceremonial was like a renewal of the wows from both parties. Deep down, she was like them, eating the same foods, caring for the same things, living in the same place, and trying her best to keep the harmony, defending what they all cherished. Deep underneath the clothing of all sorts and kinds, they were all human and all the same. Her clothes gave her no more no less responsibilities than the ones working the fields, or the ones guarding the castle, or the ones assisting her making the right choices and decisions, or the ones who were emissaries in foreign countries to keep a cordial link between other kingdoms and countries, keeping this part of their world in peace and prosperity.
She needed their labour in the fields to distribute the richness among them all and keep a constant comfort of wealth among all the various classes while they needed her to be heard by the other countries with whom they were exchanging their products and doing business.
A chilling breeze caressed her body and she shivered, putting her arms around her waist to keep a bit of warmth.
A first young girl came to her and unrolled a long skirt made of thick and warm clothe and helped her dress. Even though the dress was obviously of the working class, nice little birds and flowers were hand sewn on the bottom part and the young queen kindly thanked the girl for her gift by a warm hug.
“I thank you for being the first one to cloth me. You and your family will be thanked and honoured. If you ever wish to marry a man from the castle, come to see me personally and I shall help you out the best I can.” She said with a smile and the young girl downed her eyes and blushed.
Next, a wealthy man the queen recognized as a rich merchant of tapestries gave her a white shirt, also nicely worked, yet still modest compared to the one she threw in the fire.
“Your work is displayed in my home and I recognize your talent well. Your family has been with ours for more generations than I can remember.” Said the Queen while the man was attaching the fine threads to attach the shirt over her shoulders.
“I thank you My Queen for remembering this. I shall always serve you and your family.” He answered with a smile and it seemed they were just distant parents not strangers.
Then came an old woman, with pure white hair, small in stature and her back slightly bent with age, who gave her a black corset.
“I used to wear this when your great grand-mother, Queen Elissa, was on the throne. I remember her beauty well: you have her sparkle in your eyes.” Said the old woman lifting up her gift.
“I thank you, madam. I shall keep this present until I go away.” Answered the queen.
It was custom to keep the gifts of the people, especially the ones received on the night of Acceptation.
While the young queen laced her corset, a young man came to her and presented her with nicely crafted female shoes, made of pale green silk, a vibrant pink ribbon on the top. The queen moved forward her feet, pulling slightly her skirt up so that the young man could put the first shoe on.
“A perfect fit, My Queen. I had hoped it would be good. I designed this especially for you.” He said gently, enthusiastic about the judicious choice he had employed in this work.
“These are really beautiful and so nicely crafted. You shall be named by personal shoemaker.” She replied making a few steps in her new shoes, feeling as she would be walking on a cloud.
“I am honoured My Queen.” He answered bowing his head down and going back into the assistance.
A last man, a messenger she recognized from the Northern Countries, presented her with a golden necklace off which a clear, transparent crystal was hanging. He gently put it around her neck as she bowed down.
“An ice crystal to strengthen our alliance, My Queen, and a personal gift for this special occasion. When you will let the sun rays go through, you will be pleased and I hope enchanted, by the luxurious lights, colours and kaleidoscopic flowers this jewel will show you.” He said looking at her face, beaming with delight.
“Our alliance will remain as strong as this crystal is: unbreakable even if thrown on the ground. And I thank you for such a carefully chosen gift to be given to a lady.” She said shaking his hand gently.
She stood there, facing the fire, now watching the faces around her, smiling at them. She was relieved nothing had happened and moreover she was happy it was over.
She turned towards the castle when she heard the recognizable footsteps of her two private guards coming to escort her back to her bedroom. The night was over; officially it was tomorrow’s first hour.
She bowed a last time to her people, as they would usually bow to her, and smiled one last time to everyone before taking off. The crowd then suddenly exploded in applause and it was so powerful she almost jumped. The crowd had been so silent and calm, she thought they were hypnotized or sleep walking. The cheering and the shouts were unanimous: “Long live the Queen!” “Long live Aylie!” and suddenly her cheeks flushed and her heart started to beat fast in her chest. So they really loved her after all. Flower petals then flew in the night sky, coloured like the rainbow and fell a little everywhere on the ground, in the fire, on various heads and in her long hair.
And finally everything was over. She headed back to the castle, waving a last goodbye. She would go to her room, lie down and sleep. The people would either go to the village’s central part, which could accommodate all the participants and continue the party or go home and rest. In any case, the two following days, no one worked as it was given to rest and have fun.
Her heart calmed down when she finally regained her apartments. In the first little boudoir, a young man sitting in one of the small couches was reading a book in the rather clear candlelight. Looking around, she noticed he had lit quite a section to be at ease for the reading. As she entered, he stood up, bowed down and greeted her.
“You were magnificent, down there, My Queen.”
“You see me most nights naked, did I looked different tonight?
“The nights when I serve your bed, I do not judge your beauty.”
“So, tonight you had the right, like everyone else to do so ?”
“To appreciate, My Lady, rather to appreciate it.”
She took the book from the table and read the cover title. He was reading romantic and knightly poetic story of one of her early ancestors.
“Whom would you like tonight, My Lady ?” He asked knowing in advance the answer.
“Send me Harin. I do not wish to be looked by another man this soon.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle in his throat and she smiled at him with indulgence in the eyes.
“Sabik” She called him back as he was about to leave. “Do come back and read us a chapter or two from what you were reading. I would like to hear it again.”
He nodded and bowed his head.
Harin was already sleeping when Aylie finally closed her eyes and fell into deep slumber. Sabik closed the book gently, not to make any noise, walked towards the head of the bed to kiss gently the young sleeping queen’s forehead and walked out.
Walking to his own room, he thought with a little pinch in his heart, that if the Queen’s spies would not had have found this young girl, it would be him sleeping in her arms, even tonight… or no one.
To be continued with : Harin’s travel
“Fire – you who are the sent messenger of Father Sun – take my outer appearance in your devouring mouth and see that underneath I do not hide lies, treachery and falseness. You will see my flaws – as all my court and kingdom shall see them – and you will judge me upon who I am underneath my rich gowns and jewellery, for I am underneath, like my people.” She recited from the learned text, following the ceremonial scrupulously.
The fire seemed to gain in height and voracity at the hear of the offer to be made. In fact, the richest gown was made for this ceremonial, such as a set of jewellery that would be thrown in the fire, as a complete renouncement of artificial boundaries. It was not what the ruler was wearing that made of it a good one; it was the purity in the heart and the ability to renounce completely to signs of wealth and power.
The young queen first took off her golden crown and threw it in the fire. The first sacrifice – the symbol of her power over the others, and watched with curiosity as the fire made a small wave of powerful hungry flames, eating away the gold, melting the shape of the crown. Then she slipped from her fingers all her rings made for this night, of precious stones and metals and distributed them to random people of the country who in return, gave her the food and wealth throughout the year by working in her fields and by that, staying loyal to the ruler of the castle. Those rings were to be kept by the families, kept inheritance for the years and centuries to come, given from parent to child. To access the most random countrymen and countrywomen possible, the young queen walked among them and simply took off one of the many rings from each finger and gave it to whom ever she had eye contact with.
After all her fingers were set free of the rings, symbols of her own attachment to the castle and the ruling party, sign of allegiance to the throne she had to keep and defend as much as the country people, the army men, the knights and various vassals who had swore to protect the kingdom, she walked to take back her position before the fire: turning her back to the castle’s main entrance, facing the fire and the village people. This is how her ancestors all followed the ritual since the very beginning. It had no matter which sex was the ruler, all men and women were obliged by law, upon crowning, to follow this ritual and be judged and seen by all – or at least by whom was assisting the ceremony.
“Fire, you are my judge tonight, I give you my royal gown so that I can prove I am no different from my people. If my people love me enough, they shall clothe me before I return to my castle. If they do not love me, nor accept me as their queen, I shall spend the requested time as a land worker to gain my food and shelter.” She continued, her voice now loud and strong, facing the most difficult part.
With serenity and courage, she started to unlace the front part of her corset, letting loose the gown to slip down her shoulders. She looked at the fire, her eyes fixing the moving light, trying not feel shy about the situation. Of course she was educated to face this, but any man or woman, having to face the population naked is found vulnerable and fragile and the feeling of it seems to be multiplied by the amount of those who remain clothed.
She threw the golden lace in the fire and within a few sparkles it was gone. She let down her arms, on the sides of her body but not touching her hips and the upper part of the gown fell smoothly to the ground around her. A white silk shirt, with flowers and birds of mysterious and exotic lands embodied on the arms and around the neck, the corset of pale pink silk also richly worked with silver and golden threads representing a hunting party in the woods and a gauzy layer of cloth fell to her feet. She then untied the thread of her long skirt, on both sides and let all fall, revealing her totally naked body to the quiet spectators.
Delicately and with studied gestures, she leaned to pick up her clothes and threw them in the fire. Silk burnt in a fraction of a second it seemed and only perfumed smoke – not that anyone could distinguish it from the general smoke odour – quietly disappeared in the night air.
Her eyes were fixed on the fire and she tried to look calm and breath normally. In her soul she was crying. The crowd was as silent as the dead and they all watched the huge fire, she hoped more impressed with the flames than by her naked body.
She suddenly recalled the story of one of her female ancestors who had been whistled by a man in the crown and how embarrassing that must have been. Another male ancestor, a distant cousin, had to wait a long moment in front of the fire before the first man offered him something to cover his nakedness. She hoped, she prayed none of this would happen to her. This was enough of a humiliating ceremonial, even if now she just started to understand the true meaning of the words and the symbolism.
It was not just a public spectacle of her completely naked facing the people she reigned over. It was not simply the only time she showed them her vulnerability. It was the one moment of any ruler of her house to show the people that appearance was not a frontier between them. Of course the people pledged loyalty to her or who ever was ruling the country, but this ceremonial was like a renewal of the wows from both parties. Deep down, she was like them, eating the same foods, caring for the same things, living in the same place, and trying her best to keep the harmony, defending what they all cherished. Deep underneath the clothing of all sorts and kinds, they were all human and all the same. Her clothes gave her no more no less responsibilities than the ones working the fields, or the ones guarding the castle, or the ones assisting her making the right choices and decisions, or the ones who were emissaries in foreign countries to keep a cordial link between other kingdoms and countries, keeping this part of their world in peace and prosperity.
She needed their labour in the fields to distribute the richness among them all and keep a constant comfort of wealth among all the various classes while they needed her to be heard by the other countries with whom they were exchanging their products and doing business.
A chilling breeze caressed her body and she shivered, putting her arms around her waist to keep a bit of warmth.
A first young girl came to her and unrolled a long skirt made of thick and warm clothe and helped her dress. Even though the dress was obviously of the working class, nice little birds and flowers were hand sewn on the bottom part and the young queen kindly thanked the girl for her gift by a warm hug.
“I thank you for being the first one to cloth me. You and your family will be thanked and honoured. If you ever wish to marry a man from the castle, come to see me personally and I shall help you out the best I can.” She said with a smile and the young girl downed her eyes and blushed.
Next, a wealthy man the queen recognized as a rich merchant of tapestries gave her a white shirt, also nicely worked, yet still modest compared to the one she threw in the fire.
“Your work is displayed in my home and I recognize your talent well. Your family has been with ours for more generations than I can remember.” Said the Queen while the man was attaching the fine threads to attach the shirt over her shoulders.
“I thank you My Queen for remembering this. I shall always serve you and your family.” He answered with a smile and it seemed they were just distant parents not strangers.
Then came an old woman, with pure white hair, small in stature and her back slightly bent with age, who gave her a black corset.
“I used to wear this when your great grand-mother, Queen Elissa, was on the throne. I remember her beauty well: you have her sparkle in your eyes.” Said the old woman lifting up her gift.
“I thank you, madam. I shall keep this present until I go away.” Answered the queen.
It was custom to keep the gifts of the people, especially the ones received on the night of Acceptation.
While the young queen laced her corset, a young man came to her and presented her with nicely crafted female shoes, made of pale green silk, a vibrant pink ribbon on the top. The queen moved forward her feet, pulling slightly her skirt up so that the young man could put the first shoe on.
“A perfect fit, My Queen. I had hoped it would be good. I designed this especially for you.” He said gently, enthusiastic about the judicious choice he had employed in this work.
“These are really beautiful and so nicely crafted. You shall be named by personal shoemaker.” She replied making a few steps in her new shoes, feeling as she would be walking on a cloud.
“I am honoured My Queen.” He answered bowing his head down and going back into the assistance.
A last man, a messenger she recognized from the Northern Countries, presented her with a golden necklace off which a clear, transparent crystal was hanging. He gently put it around her neck as she bowed down.
“An ice crystal to strengthen our alliance, My Queen, and a personal gift for this special occasion. When you will let the sun rays go through, you will be pleased and I hope enchanted, by the luxurious lights, colours and kaleidoscopic flowers this jewel will show you.” He said looking at her face, beaming with delight.
“Our alliance will remain as strong as this crystal is: unbreakable even if thrown on the ground. And I thank you for such a carefully chosen gift to be given to a lady.” She said shaking his hand gently.
She stood there, facing the fire, now watching the faces around her, smiling at them. She was relieved nothing had happened and moreover she was happy it was over.
She turned towards the castle when she heard the recognizable footsteps of her two private guards coming to escort her back to her bedroom. The night was over; officially it was tomorrow’s first hour.
She bowed a last time to her people, as they would usually bow to her, and smiled one last time to everyone before taking off. The crowd then suddenly exploded in applause and it was so powerful she almost jumped. The crowd had been so silent and calm, she thought they were hypnotized or sleep walking. The cheering and the shouts were unanimous: “Long live the Queen!” “Long live Aylie!” and suddenly her cheeks flushed and her heart started to beat fast in her chest. So they really loved her after all. Flower petals then flew in the night sky, coloured like the rainbow and fell a little everywhere on the ground, in the fire, on various heads and in her long hair.
And finally everything was over. She headed back to the castle, waving a last goodbye. She would go to her room, lie down and sleep. The people would either go to the village’s central part, which could accommodate all the participants and continue the party or go home and rest. In any case, the two following days, no one worked as it was given to rest and have fun.
Her heart calmed down when she finally regained her apartments. In the first little boudoir, a young man sitting in one of the small couches was reading a book in the rather clear candlelight. Looking around, she noticed he had lit quite a section to be at ease for the reading. As she entered, he stood up, bowed down and greeted her.
“You were magnificent, down there, My Queen.”
“You see me most nights naked, did I looked different tonight?
“The nights when I serve your bed, I do not judge your beauty.”
“So, tonight you had the right, like everyone else to do so ?”
“To appreciate, My Lady, rather to appreciate it.”
She took the book from the table and read the cover title. He was reading romantic and knightly poetic story of one of her early ancestors.
“Whom would you like tonight, My Lady ?” He asked knowing in advance the answer.
“Send me Harin. I do not wish to be looked by another man this soon.”
He couldn’t stop the chuckle in his throat and she smiled at him with indulgence in the eyes.
“Sabik” She called him back as he was about to leave. “Do come back and read us a chapter or two from what you were reading. I would like to hear it again.”
He nodded and bowed his head.
Harin was already sleeping when Aylie finally closed her eyes and fell into deep slumber. Sabik closed the book gently, not to make any noise, walked towards the head of the bed to kiss gently the young sleeping queen’s forehead and walked out.
Walking to his own room, he thought with a little pinch in his heart, that if the Queen’s spies would not had have found this young girl, it would be him sleeping in her arms, even tonight… or no one.
To be continued with : Harin’s travel
