| Becca Stareyes ( @ 2007-08-06 22:43:00 |
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| Entry tags: | amelia, fanfiction, slayers, zel/amelia |
Moonlight in Winter [Slayers, Zel/Amelia, PG-13]
Title: Moonlight in Winter
Fandom: Slayers
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Words: 2137
Notes/Warnings: Done for 'Five Shades of White' @ 52_Flavours and 'romance' @ slayers_contest. Zel/Amelia
Summary: Amelia attends a late winter festival in the mountains, and goes for a walk in the moonlight.
Disclaimer: Slayers copyright Hajime Kanzaka/Rui Araizumi/Kadokawa/TV Tokyo/Medianet and this derivative work was created without permission.
The full moon shone on the snow, sandwiching the world between black and white. It had risen red, but was now a warm yellowish white, contrasting with the cool bluish white of the snow. Amelia drew her cloak closer around herself. She had been traveling all winter, touring Saillune as a representative of the Crown. She had finally come to Talae, a small town near the northern border just as the annual Snow Lily Festival was to begin.
To the side of the gathering were the bonfires, died down to embers, with a pile of small stones near them, useful for putting in pockets or gloved hands to keep the chill out. Amelia stepped closer to them as she listened to the village's priestess tell the story of the holiday.
"A long time ago, before even the great war that threatened to resurrect the Dark Lord, a village of elves lived in these mountains." The hushed conversations ceased as the priestess began talking, in a storyteller's voice -- clear, and just loud enough to be heard in the back without being painful to the front. "One day, a young farmer was looking for a lost pig in the forest, when he met an elf maid gathering mushrooms. He was besotted by her beauty and grace, and starstruck, he approached her. He told her she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and, right then and there, dropped to his knees and asked her to be his wife.
"The elf maid was startled by his earnestness. Never before had she seen a human, and she was new to their ways. The young man continued, swearing the moon and stars to her, promising that their love would be as brilliant as the short sweet summer of the high mountains. She turned to go, murmuring words of regret, of parting, and he grabbed her hand in haste. With a quick spell, though, she was gone in a wisp of smoke." Amelia jumped as the fire flared in a storm of colorful sparks and smoke. She glanced over to the priestess to catch the old woman tucking a pouch back into her cloak.
"The young man refused to give up, and vowed to find the elf maid and bring her back to his farm. He packed up his hatchet and knife, fishing pole and snowshoes and set off into the wilderness. He traveled up and down the mountains in the fall leaves and winter snows, living off what he could catch. And he still could not find any signs of the elves.
"In late winter, when the storms are the worst, he was caught away from his shelter by a sudden blizzard. Blinded and lost, he searched in vain for any hollow to curl up in. Finally, he collapsed, exhausted, cold and hungry."
The high priestess paused, long enough for the crowd to look around expectantly.
A high, sweet voice rang out from the darkness behind Amelia, "Look for a child of the moon, a herald of spring. With that meager sign, you will find what you seek." She turned around, but the flash of the fire a few minutes ago meant all she saw was shadows.
"Perhaps it was only a dream from the cold," the priestess continued, with only a glance to the back and a slight nod, "but the farmer struggled through the snow towards the source of the voice until his legs gave way. But, there, before his very eyes, was a flower, pale as moonlight, and miraculously blooming in the snow.
"He freed his hand to pick it, and heard a cry. Strong arms wrapped around him, and dragged him to a shelter in the snow. It was a young shepardess from his village, who bundled him in blankets and furs. As he warmed by the fire, he learned how she had worried about him once the snows set in and his farm remained empty. She had searched through the winter, ever wondering if his body had been buried by the snow, forgotten to all save one. She begged him to give up his foolish search, and return to the village with her.
"The farmer was weak and hungry, and the shepardess's smile was as warm as spring. Touched by her loyalty to him, he agreed to return with her. When the storm ceased, she lead him out of the woods and back to the village. As the land greened, his health returned, and his heart warmed. By the end of spring, when the lilac was in bloom, the young man only had eyes for his shepardess, and, under the auburn boughs of fall they were wed. Ever since then, it is said that the Snow Lily is scared to lovers, and that a couple that meet across it will be eternal as this cycle of winter and spring."
Amelia watched the young men and women in the crowd as the priestess spoke. Many of them had lanterns, and all of them wore bright woolen cloaks over their wool-and-fur clothing. Most of them would look but briefly, combing the hills nearest the town, and, with out without the legendary lily, return to the warmth of their hearths with their sweethearts.
"Remember to be safe," the old priestess concluded. "Stay in pairs, and keep the lanterns lit. Mark your way, and, at the first sign of coldness or fatigue, return." As the crowd dispersed, the priestess pulled her aside. "Prepared for the weather, Your Highness?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, ma'am," Amelia showed off the heavy white woolen sweater she wore under her winter cloak. She felt like she was covered head to toe in wool and fur and stuffing.
"Good. It would be bad luck for someone to freeze out there." The priestess gave her a half-smile. "Watch out for things in the forest, Your Highness -- the trappers have been saying that there's something up in the forest."
"Well, I'm not going alone. That wouldn't be safe. Mister Steven is going with me."
The priestess looked at the Princess's guard, a middle-aged man waiting by the fire. "I see that. Normally a young woman brings her sweetheart. But perhaps you're a bit young for that."
"I'm seventeen. That's old enough," Amelia answered. It wouldn't be the first time someone misjudged her age. "I'm going to give it a couple more years, then decide what to do."
"Just don't let it get away from you, Your Highness," the priestess smiled as she turned towards the village. "You know, there's another folk legend about the Snow Lily. They say if a woman puts it under her pillow..."
"She'll dream about the person she will marry?" Amelia finished. A lot of those legends tended to sound the same.
"Well... in a sense, yes." The priestess blinked a few times. "Perhaps we should just leave it at that. Good luck, Your Highness."
