The Heart of a Princess

Garnett's eyes opened with a start, but there was naught but blackness to see, a terrible enveloping darkness, as if every flame had been doused, every star blotted out, the moon torn from the sky. From the blackness, a thin whimpery wail emerged, desperate and fearful. It was her babe, she knew with the surety of dreams, panic rising in her throat. "Uhtred!" She called to the child, creeping blindly as the sound mounted. Louder it grew until it hurt her ears, tears streaming down her cheeks as she frantically ran toward the sound. Suddenly it surrounded her, infant shrieks assaulting her ears from all sides, unable to hear herself screaming his name.

Sobbing, she fell to her knees .. and kept falling, tumbling through the darkness without end, the squall of a thousand babes pounding into her skull. Nothing rose to meet her, the princess plummeting through the void, sound her only companion. The keening deepened to men's voices, angry bellows and screams surrounding her, and she was suddenly huddled on the ground naked before a throng of soldiers.

The lust of battle shone in their eyes, rage pulsating from them as they circled around her. Blood stained them all, limbs missing, bodies so torn apart that they were barely recognizable as men, but each still clasped a weapon: short swords, battle-axes, war hammers, hooked spears, and more that she had no names for. To a man, their torsos had been ripped open, ribs protruding from dark chasms, and she knew their number: two hundred and twenty-three.

Fear clutched her, her heart thundering, and as terrified eyes lifted to them, she knew they could hear it too. Hunger rippled through the men, the crowd seething closer to her. Tears poured down her cheeks as she pleaded with them incoherently, hands clasped to her breast to protect her heart, but in a deafening yell, they were on her. Man after man slammed into her, her terrified screams barely audible beneath their war-cries. Blood-caked hands bore into her chest, tearing past her ribs, each one trying to grasp her heart as it pulsed with life. Nails pierced the muscle, her shrieks of agony driving them on as pain became her entire world.

The ground fell away beneath her again, and she plunged from them, bloody hands trying to knit the torn flesh as she stared at their desperate faces diminishing from view. A strange thrumming filled her ears, almost painfully loud, and as she looked down at her gaping chest, she realized her heart still beat. Joy surged through her, and she wept at the discovery.

As suddenly as she'd found herself amidst the men, she was reclining on the grass on a small hill, the sun warming her and her chest whole again. A soft woolen gown brushed gently against her skin, Garnett recognizing it as a favourite from girlhood, even the bodice twisted as it so often had been. A large splotch of ink marred the skirt, the product of an argument with one of her brothers. The sweet scent of heather wafted on the breeze, a feeling of home and contentment washing over her so heavily that she could not help but lay back and bask in the sun. Perhaps she would simply stay here. She was so weary. Her eyes slipped closed, and she felt a cool hand on her forehead, brushing back stray locks of hair with such gentleness.

"Mama.." She whispered, for there was no other comfort like that in the world. The soft lilting strains of a lullabye she had loved as a child trickled into her ears, and she was at peace, nestled against her mother's side, the worries of life forgotten until another voice spoke.

"I'm sorry..." It quivered, unmistakably childlike and so familiar that Garnett couldn't help but open her eyes. Rina stood before her, one hand shoved toward the princess. Clutched in her fist, something tiny and shimmering squirmed, the princess staring at it in puzzlement. It wailed, loud and frightened, and she knew it. Tears burned in her eyes as she held out her hands for the infant soul, but it passed through them, shrieking as it laid in the grass.

Frantic once more, Garnett tried to scoop it up, hands chill and shaking each time they swept through the babe, his screams growing with each moment. Helpless, she sobbed, her body lurching as she wept, eyes squeezed closed. The sound swirled around her, pounding into her ears as she shrieked with it, her hands clawing at the grass until her fingers bled. All that existed was the babe's wails, darkness creeping in to swallow her up again. For an instant, that tiny broken soul glinted in the blackness, and she reached for it, begging .. then it was gone and she was plummeting again.

Her limbs jerked as she crashed into herself, overwhelming pain surging through her such that she cried out through dry lips. Swollen eyes struggled to open, but before she could even comprehend she was in the infirmary, a healer gently dosed her again, and she fell, for time, into dreamless sleep.

A wall of fire .. the castle behind it. She knew it was the castle, but never in life had it looked like that. Towers tumbled and stones fell, scorch marks marring the majestic visage. Tears stung her cheeks as she ran. Something snapped under foot..a twig, she thought 'til she glanced down, her bare feet sliced by sharp bones. Blood flooded from her flesh, staining the bones, pooling around them until the whole courtyard seethed with it, bones rattling as they lifted from the ground.

Crimson tears painted her face as she ran, screams caught in her throat, trying to escape the ruin crashing down around her .. until she turned, eyes locking on the single remaining high tower. A lone figure stood there, tall and proud, hair whipping in the wind, and she shrieked his name, watching in horror as the stone at the base began to crumble. Screams ripped from her, and she ran, heedless of the needling bones that bore deep into her feet and ankles.

Raking hot wind threatened to flay her skin from her flesh, gown crackling into ash as she faced the fire. His name still tore from her mouth as she sought a way through the fire, panic setting in for each time she moved forward, it thickened and surged higher. Naked and sobbing, she pleaded with it, ever pressing toward it. She would have to go through, no matter how thick the wall, and with a war-like cry, she ran forward. Skin crackled, flame surging through her, but she would make it through to him..she must.

Something loomed ahead, still within the flames, and she ran, body oozing from its frame, though with sudden certainty, she knew Synaria. Joyously, she screamed for her sister, trying to grab her arm, to lead her through the fire when those vicious blues pinned on her. Terror gripped her as she realized the source of the fire, flames leaping from Synaria's hands to engulf the castle as she laughed, loud and manic. Just as the hands contorted to control the fire, so did the face...dancing through familiar spectres...the King, the jester, Lottie, Cyrus, Ys, Synaria, Nefe, her brothers, the Queen, guards and knights and servants...all of them laughing at her pain as the fire tore through her.

Anger surged through her as she shrieked at them for barring her way to the tower, and suddenly she broke free from the flames, flesh bubbling and boiling as she ran, oblivious to pain. She had to get to him. Stone tumbled around her, the tower faltering .. too late..too late.

With a great groan, the structure gave out, and she saw him tumbling through the air, the figure on the ground that was them all cackling gleefully as ruined rock smashed into him, sending him slamming to the ground as the tower entombed them both....

By the time Uhtred brought her back to the infirmary, she was weary..so terribly weary that she could hardly keep her eyes open. Lids were heavy, persisting in closing, and while he was at her side, the princess slept deeply. Whether it was his own need for sleep, duties, or wine that drew him from her, she never knew ..only waking with a pained cry that had the healers dosing her with wine over whimpered protests.

The ghosts found their way into the wine too, sleep and waking both prey to their shades. Alone, the princess found colour seeped from the world, chill settling once more on her prone frame as the tendrils crept out from her belly. Pulling from her womb, it sucked her back, dragging her through a shimmering glassy veil. Weak with grief, the battle she'd fought since her collapse fell fully to the desires of the ghosts, ungentle spirits dragging her with them despite her begging.

Cold .. so cold.. the touch of it screamed through her, shearing flesh from soul.

Her frame remained frighteningly still on the bed, ice to the touch no matter the warmth those left tried to bestow on it, still save for the occasional flutter of breath that seemed scarce enough to retain life.

Through the veil, unbroken, a tenuous thread stretched, golden and pulsing to the chest of the prone body, its root plunged deep into what she was now..the tiniest bit of warmth still lingering. They leered at it, her forceful hosts, lust to break it oozing from their beings, but they could not touch it: it was of the world of life.

The world was dim through the obscuring veil..her own red hair sapped of color, the walls dull and grey..insubstantial as if it could slip away if she turned for too long. But turn away she did, dragged by claws and whispers to face the shades no more solid here than they were in the waking world.

"We will show you what you desire."

It was what she thought she heard as longing so intense swept through her that she nearly wept with the pain of it. Soothing whispers and caresses drew her onward, promising her that she needed weep no more. They would take her to him. Her pain? That terrible ache in her womb that would not ease, the heaviness of her limbs, the throbbing of her head. They would take her from that. She had no need for pain.

Nothing to fear, nothing to worry over, just peace. This was what they offered. Could she not see it? Consent was merely lack of resistance for her soul was as weary as her body, sickened by the death of their child and worn down by the constant dreams the ghosts pressed upon her. She could not fight them, not with such sweet promises in her ears, so she journeyed with them, surprised to find that as they went the fragile thread stretched and that the heaviness of her soul did indeed slip away.

A creature of light and ether, she floated with them. A serenity she'd never known in life settled over her as they told her that such worries as she had mattered no longer, gentle and coaxing as they drew her deeper. Abruptly, they stopped, another shimmering wall ahead of them though she could see more beings through it, moving without haste and without worry, but she could not go there ..not while the string still held her.

Morning dawned, the thin late winter sunlight streaming onto the bed where she slept, bathing her in a ray of delicate light. A sacred tableu, as though God smiled down on the peaceful, still princess, her pale skin so fragile, soft red locks swept into a loose braid. Youth and innocence blessed by God, but none of those tending her could find themselves believing such a thing. She'd not moved since they'd given her wine to help her sleep, her eerie stillness forcing them to shift her less the sores beginning turn worse.

A small tear rent the veil, Garnett focused on it by her otherworldly attendants, whispers cooing to her that they had made it to him. They had done as they promised. She would see. A feminine shape emerged from the darkening tear, something small cradled in her arms. Slow and stately, she approached, offering a polite bow to Garnett before extending the swaddled infant to her.

Garnett swept him into her arms, ethereal form radiating happiness as she peered down at the impossibly tiny creature in her arms. The world coalesced into something more solid, the girl able to feel the weight of the babe, the warmth of him through the blanket. She could breathe his sweet scent. Eyes watered as she drank him in ... the child solemnly regarding her with the deep blue eyes of his father. A shock of brilliant red hair topped his head, and she found herself stroking his tiny fist, marveling at the perfection of each finger and the pure softness of his skin.

Unable to resist, she pressed her lips adoringly to his forehead, cradling the babe close as peace settled over her. Stay with us..stay with him. A child should not be without his mother. How those words struck, the girl having grown without her own mother, and she found herself in mute agreement.

She hummed a tender lullaby as she sunk to her knees on the plane that held them, bowed over her child. The tune rang out, the ghosts dissolving into reverent silence until the last note quivered into the void, drinking up a richness of sound they rarely heard.

All she needed to do to stay with him was pluck that string free from her, and she would be at peace. She could hold her babe in her arms forever if she wished. There was no need to return, no need for the pain and weariness nor grief. She could be at rest. Such alluring words they were, the princess enthralled by the quiet mental coo nearly as much as the child she held.

The day crept into afternoon, the doctor and assistants turning their charge once more. Gentle hands touched her, patting at her face to try to draw her back. It grew more fierce for she had been from them for too long, and even a small shake failed to rouse her. They coaxed water down her throat, forcing her to swallow with strokes to her neck so reflexes took over and resumed watching, stretched thin as though waiting for her to draw her last breath.

"The Prince must come to her soon. He will wake her. She always knows him." One whispered, more pleading than reassuring, doubt in his eyes. Worried looks turned on Synaria huddled by the fire, guilt flitting over their faces that they could offer no further hope than what she saw.

She peered down at the trembling tenuous connection to the waking world, contemplating the offer. There was nothing to return to. It was all misery, but here she would be at peace, they assured her. Reluctance gripped her, though they had fogged her mind from the sweetness of life, she could not help but feel the utter wrongness of tearing such a tie, and she refused.

Hisses of frustration sounded in her mind, dying off quickly as the babe in her arms contorted and changed. She held him still, but suddenly he was a toddler, nestling into her with his lips puckered around his thumb. His red hair had grown into tiny ringlets, silky and soft, a noble looking child already with a firm jaw and thin lips. Freckles littered his snub nose and cheeks, both parents obvious in his looks.

He laughed delightedly in her lap, turning to wrap his chubby arms around her, smiles lighting his face much the way they did hers, and she found herself in love with the enchanting little child. Tightly, she held him to her as his arms curled around her neck, fingers tangling with her hair. She could even feel the ghostly digits tugging almost painfully at her, and she clutched him, cheek pressed to the top of his head as they held each other.

She could keep this, keep him, if only she would break the tie. Didn't she deserve to be with her babe? He'd been torn from her wrongly! It wouldn't hurt..she would scarcely feel it, but she would be free, free to go on with them, to spend an eternity loving the child. Temptation wore at her resistance, and she found herself studying the slender golden thread again, certain there were reasons she should not, but the ghosts had filled her mind of misery of life and of the bliss they offered. There was a blank though, something that she must return for, and she nearly wept with anger when she couldn't place it.

He touched a single finger to Garnett's forehead. "Love..."

Heat blazed through the silken strand, and the word thundered in her mind. Uhtred. Her soul wept with guilt at the momentary forgetfulness enforced on her, and the ghosts retreated, observing her in angry silence as they felt their quarry slipping from them, quivering in fear at the voice that intruded on their world. The child tried to squirm from her hold, shaking with apparent terror at his father's voice, and she stared down at him..confused.

His chin rested on the headboard of the bed as arms snaked from above, gently stroking her face in small, little circular patterns. He traced raccoon eyes upon her 'lids as he looked up at Eilella. "We were going to go away, y'know," he told her, though why she would care was beyond his guess. "Someplace where we could enjoy each others' company, away from all others..."

His voice was the sweetest sound, so firm, so real in a world of shadows and light and thoughts, and she wondered how the ghosts could have conspired to make any suffering overshadow the warmth that pulsed through her connection to the waking world. It grew, the brightness of it almost painful in this place, and she felt the child in her arms slip away. Startled, she stared at him, watching in strange fascination as he contorted and shifted, suddenly taking the form of those around her.

Her eyes closed though, the feel of his fingers from a distance singing through her, and she soaked in the touch, forgetting now the ghosts and their promises as memories more powerful flooded her. The warmth of his smile that no one else received, the way his hands fluttered over her as if she were a rare treasure, the feel of his arms holding her tight and his lips on hers, his pride ...his pride. Where would his pride in her be if she let herself slip away? How could she leave him to face that terrible fear that only she knew about? Those images bloomed too, the pain of them piercing her heart...Uhtred terrified, Uhtred sobbing on the floor of the bath tearing at his flesh.

"No," She hissed at the crouching shades, blazing angrily, her true voice booming across the void in the fashion Uhtred's had. The ghost closest to her leered, and she realized as her gaze locked on it that it had been her deception of a son. Who knew its real story, but the one she had seen was a lie, her babe's undeveloped soul having dissolved into the ether.

He wasn't willing to give up his tangent. "After the wedding, of course, there was not much time for us. So many things to attend to!" An assassination attempt, Raij, the affairs of a county, Hrvesgott... The realization that all of these things had transpired within a season's length of time... "God. It is a wonder we even saw each other." A shake of his head kept time with the brush of his finger across his sickly wife's lip.

"...Not much time for us..." The words echoed through her, the remembered pain of his absence creeping through her, the longing for more of his company. In her weariness, the ghosts had drawn her away, but Uhtred's voice, the touch traveling the distance to tingle over her lips, the realization of what she would lose ..it all filled her with determination that she had not had before, her mind clearer now than it had been since the collapse. She would return.

Without hesitation, she turned from the ghosts, following the golden thread into the void, confident that it would take her back. At its root, she felt her heart pulsing weakly, and Uhtred..Uhtred..he brightened that connection like a beacon, the tiny caresses seeping through, the sound of his voice drawing her back. The way was long though, and no matter how fast she moved, it yawned out ahead of her.

What she didn't feel however was him leave her side, the renewed connection so bright that his nearness to her body mattered little to her. The ghosts, though, knew it, and their fear slipped away. As one they crept in on her, claws more fierce now as they forcibly tried to drag her back. Screams filled the darkness, and she fought with a ferocity little seen in the normally gentle girl, cursing the shades to their eternal homes. She shredded and hissed at the beings, clutching the connection to the waking world, walking in time with the beat of her heart, but they would not leave her be...their terrible stories of the world they came from assaulting her mind with the dangers she would face, screaming at her that she would have no peace when she returned. She would know only pain, only terror, their images enough to drop her to her knees in agony.

Her spirit writhed with the visions they rained down on her, their stories combining with her fears, sights of Synaria and fire, of Uhtred being torn apart, of madness, of poison, of swords and hearts. They slowed her pace to a crawl, Garnett scarcely able to make her way through the vicious fog, more often than not the ground gained torn away from her by the wicked tendrils as they fought to steal her, wearing her down again. Screams tore from her, resounding to every corner of the spirit world. "HELP ME! PLEASE!"

She would not submit, no matter what they whispered, no matter how the claws tore. "Go to bloody hell!" Rage erupted from her, surging her to her feet, the need for a weapon in hand suddenly producing the image of the sword Uhtred had given her when they were wed. His blood, his life pulsed in the thing, and to her surprise, the ghosts gave ground..no longer touching her but staring at the thing in her hands. They surrounded her still, as grimly determined as she was...

Morning dawned once more, with no change in the princess to the eyes of the waking world, worry for her casting a pall over the castle as her utter listlessness stretched into a second day.