Donkeyskin - ON HOLD

Of Truth

*Of Truth*

The army stood at attention outside the castle gates. Elodie rode Jasmine, who had been her official wedding gift from Alex. Her husband–it still felt odd to call him that–rode beside her on his Kraken. Together, they were participating in a review of the troops, the last one before they began their march to North Avalon.

At first, Elodie had been uneasy about assuming the duties of a Crown Princess, including these official revues, but, as time passed and she did more, the mantle of princess became easier for her to bear, more comfortable, like a new pair of shoes that she was slowly but surely breaking in. She worked closely with both Alex's parents as King Stefan taught her to govern, and Queen Annika taught her how to behave like a ruler, both lessons no one had ever thought to teach her before.

And, after her lessons and duties, every night she and Alex lay beside each other, each keeping to their side of the bed at first, but inevitably ending up in each other's arms by morning. Their marriage remained unconsummated, but it was not loveless. As they rode up and down the columns of soldiers, every few minutes, Alex would draw his horse up alongside her, and would take her hand, the look in her eyes making her shiver with desire and anticipation. She wanted him; she loved him, but something still kept her from telling him she was ready. It was fear, yes, but it was also dread of what might happen if she did lay with him, dread that she might not have remembered it correctly, that it might not hurt, and that, surely, would be worse. For if it did not hurt, then surely it would be even more wrong that she'd found pleasure in something so perverse, and that scared her more than the fear that she would hate it.

They reached the end of the columns, and they turned back to face the palace. The soldiers all came to attention as one. King Stefan rode out of the palace gates and cantered down the lines of his men until he drew up alongside his son. "Everything looks good," he said. "I wish, though, that we had a larger cavalry." He sighed and wheeled his mount away. Elodie agreed with him. Cavalry moved faster and more lightly than infantry, and it was better for a stealth attack.

The revue continued in an uneventful fashion, and, when the king had examined every battalion, they returned to the palace for one of a seemingly endless round of strategy meetings. It was evening before Elodie had a few moments to herself. Alex and Tristan had disappeared awhile earlier, and Elodie wasn't sure what they were up to, but she didn't mind being left behind.

She changed into her dance things quickly. The company's performance of the Ballad of Georgiane had been pushed back until after the coming war came to a conclusion, and rehearsals had been cancelled. Elodie missed dancing every day.

She also remembered the theory Queen Annika had proposed as to the true nature of her powers, though she hadn't had much time to dwell on it. When she reached the studio she stretched as quickly as she could without hurting herself, then moved out onto the floor.

First, she ran through the Georgiane dances, then began to run through what she knew. She whole while, she focused not on the steps themselves, but on what she felt as she danced. The emotions carried in the dances felt stronger and clearer than she thought they should, as if she were projecting them across the room. When she really concentrated, she could feel a sort of tingling sensation pulsating through her limbs. It shimmered around her body, like from an overflowing wineglass.

She began to experiment with that feeling, drawing it inside her skin, using dance steps to pull it towards her. Once it was inside her, she tried throwing it away from her body with every kick or stretch. She imagined it was the emotions she danced, flying out at the audience. After awhile, though, she began to feel weary and stretched thin. She let go of her grip on that tingling feeling and just danced, her head thrown back, her whole body pulsating with the joy of having been let loose. She danced no particular dance, just moved how her body wanted to be moved.