Pain of the Past (a Preminger fanfiction)

=17=

The warm smell of bread and cinnamon flooded Premingers senses as they crossed the threshold. A slew of other spices he could not identify also tinged the air and for a moment, it felt difficult to breathe with so many scents attacking his nostrils.

Inside of the hut was cluttered with bushels of dried flowers and herbs, scattered across the furniture, hanging from the thatched roof, sprawled across the countertop that lined the kitchen. The cottage was only one room, with a hearth burning at the center and a small bed tucked away in the corner. The rest of the space was filled with books and talismans and tools Preminger had never seen.

Their hostess was at the fireplace, busying herself over a boiling cauldron that seemed to be the source of the warm smell in the air. She was broad and small, with a thick braid of snarled grey hair that fell heavy down to her hip. There were many pouches strung around the waist of her robes that appeared to be filled with herbs and other belongings.

"Old Lady Gossamer," William spoke loudly into the room and the woman turned quickly, revealing a sharp looking face illuminated by dark blue eyes. "How refreshing to find myself in your home again."

"It always does one well to wander the woods again," the witch said, and her voice was rough and rich like the earth. "I see you brought company."

"Vanessa and Erik, my hosts in the Western Village. And this is Preminger."

Preminger felt small under the witch's gaze, but he did not shy away. Instead, he offered a short bow.

"How nice to meet you in person," she said, and Preminger did not miss the strange way in which her tone had changed. A sadness was evident to him in her eyes, like pity, though he did not understand why.

"And these are his accomplices, Nick and Nack."

The twins stood with eyes that bulged from their sockets, taking in the cottage in its entirety. Excitement seemed to buzz between the two of them.

"You've made it here in good time," the witch, Lady Gossamer, remarked, making her way back to her cauldron. "I've stew on, and bread cooling in the window. Come sit, Addam will be joining us shortly."

Preminger could not recall a time he'd tasted food so divine. The bread was still hot, and soft to the touch, and the stew burst with flavors he'd never known before. He and his friends ate gratefully that night.

"This is a wonderful home you have," Vanessa conversed as they ate at the small round table. Lady Gossamer was sitting by the hearth again, her strong hands busy with a needle and thread.

"Thats kind of you, dear. It does me well to have visitors. Very seldom do I get folks that travel this deep into the woods."

"I can't imagine being a witch attracts too many people anyways." Preminger remarked and he could feel the heat of William's glare. Lady Gossamer, however, threw her head back and laughed.

"Sharp tongued, as I foretold," she said in William's direction. "Accompanied by a sharp mind. These are the makings of a great hero, and of a dangerous villain."

She looked to him again with those shining eyes, seeming to sift though his mind and read the chapters of his very soul.

"I wonder which you will choose."

Preminger swallowed thickly, eyes dropping back to his stew. At that moment, there was a rap at the door and a man let himself in. He was tall, so tall, the top of his head brushed against the flowers that hung to dry from the ceiling. He had dark eyes and even darker skin and carried himself with authority as he made his way into the cottage.

"My old friend," he spoke warmly in a voice like the rushing river. His hand he extended to the witch who accepted it welcomingly.

"Addams," she said. "You've arrived just after our guests. Make yourself comfortable, there is food if you are hungry."

Addams settled with them at the table, shaking hands with William who ran through introductions again. Vanessa's hand he took and kissed, and the others he met with a firm handshake, even the twins, who were ecstatic to be included.

"I'm glad to finally meet." He spoke as he bit into a slice of bread. "Much has been stirring in the East of the kingdom and I am eager to see our influence expand to the West and into the city."

"Agreed," William raised a hand to gesture to Preminger, who had remained silent though much of the conversation. "Which is why I have brought my friend here along. Preminger is from one of the farming villages outside the city, but was orphaned and raised in the lower reaches of the city. He's quick of mind and not only knows his way about the inside, but also has many a contact among the people. I believe him to be invaluable in working our way to the palace."

Addams eyed him thoughtfully as he tore a piece from his bread and dipped it in the stew. He took a long bite, chewed, and swallowed before looking back to Preminger again.

"An orphan?"

Preminger nodded.

"The city is a harsh place to live with none to look out for you, wouldn't you say?"

"I've been working since I was a child to care for myself. The orphanage had us in the mines the minute we were of age."

"Did you earn wages?"

"Yes but all was given to the home And- ''

"Taxes. To the king."

Again, Preminger nodded. Addams looked back to his stew, swirling it in the bowl with the tail end of the bread. A few moments passed where no words were exchanged. The others had finished eating, but if Addams felt any insecurity being observed as he fed alone, he did not indicate it. When he had finished his meal, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Tell me Preminger, are you with us?"

Preminger blinked, glancing to William who was watching him steadily. He looked back to Addams quickly.

"I came all the way out here, didn't I?"

"You did, but that does not answer my question. Are you with us?"

Vanessa and Erik looked at him curiously now too and he could not help but feel bothered that they were not receiving the questioning too. What need was there for him to be singled out?

"I've told William already that I support your cause and I will do what I can to help."

"But are you with us?"

"I don't understand," he relented at last.

"When I was a boy," Addams began, his expression set with passion. "Two men came to my house. They came for taxes, but mother and father had none to give. The crop had been bad that year, and though they'd slaved and bled in the fields, the yield was barely enough for our own family to get by. The drought was widespread across the kingdom, and still the king sent for his taxes. Demanded money he did not need from his people who had none to give. What we could not pay with gold, the men decided would be payed in labor. They took my father that day, and my mother a few weeks later. I never saw either of them again. I was 10 then, now I am 30 years of age.

For 20 years I have watched the king gorge himself on the suffering of his own kingdom. This movement is not a game to me, it is war. It is strategic and it is ruthless and for 20 years I have devoted myself to fighting for my people until my dying breath. Every man, woman, and child who stands with me had sworn the same. So tell me, Preminger, when the time comes will you turn and run? Or are you with us?"

Preminger stared, a feeling like fire suddenly churning in his chest. He was a child again, staring into the dying face of his father, visiting his lonely grave on the hill, being taken from his home and into the unforgiving city, stumbling into the black abyss of the mines. And everywhere he went, there were the kings men, the cold shadow of their backs the only extension of the throne he'd ever seen. He clenched his fists beneath the table.

"I'm with you," he said firmly, and Addams smiled.

"Good. The night is young and there is much to discuss. So let us begin."