The Necronomicon

Chapter Fifteen

It had been two months since they'd shared their first kiss, and two weeks since they had seen the pit — and Frederick and Meredith were now only hours away from the rebel base camp they were heading to. They'd only been walking for about three quarters of an hour, and already Meredith was slumping, fatigued. She'd barely slept the night before, they'd talked for so long. Frederick had painted her a picture of what life would be like under the revolution's regime, and she'd listened intently, rapt.

"Imagine being free to make your own choices, Meredith," He'd told her, and she'd nodded, enchanted by his words. "Imagine living comfortably, not just you — but everyone. No prejudice, nothing but happiness. Imagine, Meredith, being able to divorce a husband." His speech had been smooth, and she'd nodded along to his words.

"Then I could have multiple marriages." Meredith had breathed excitedly. He'd laughed audibly, his hand at her hair, pulling her to him, and he'd kissed her gently.

"You could... but I hope you'd just have one." Frederick had said, pausing for a moment, and she'd curled into him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating from him, and cloaking her. "With the revolution's ideals, you can say what you want. You can do what you want. There won't be any Elders to stop you. To stop you from your destiny." He'd enthused, and she'd lain there, listening to him speak. He became animated when he spoke of the revolution, his eyes dancing, his fingers darting around as he gestured to the darkening sky.

In her dreams at night, Meredith saw this world come to life. She saw herself free as the starlings she'd looked at every morning at home. When she wasn't dreaming of this, she imagined a wedding.

It started with her walking down the aisle, and music playing sweetly in her ears — 'Here Comes the Bride'. She had grown up with the idea of marriage, and she knew exactly how she wanted her wedding to go. She'd planned it — but until now she hadn't known who her spouse would be. "Dearly beloved," She knew the Elder in charge would say. "We have come together to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony." She grinned at the thought of this, then she gasped — with The Elders most likely gone by the time she got married, who would conduct her ceremony?

"The union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended by us, as Elders, for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity; and, as it is our will, for the procreation of children and their nurture in the knowledge and love of us, The Elders. Therefore marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted." That's what the Elder would say in her dream, and then the groom would turn and kiss her. It was only then that she saw who the groom actually was — Frederick.

She'd asked Frederick how marriage — specifically, who would conduct the ceremony, and what they would say — would change already that morning, and he'd chuckled. "I can see you have a one track mind." She'd smiled exuberantly at him, and he had continued with a grin plastered on his face. "We'd probably change all the words."

"To what?" Meredith had asked, and he'd shrugged, already casting the thought aside.

"But marriage is the most important thing," She'd said, confused, and he'd smirked, lightly draping an arm across her shoulders.

"Now you're just parroting The Elders' words," Frederick told her. "To us, marriage is a thing of pleasure, not necessity. And it won't just be men and women who can marry —"

"What, men and pigs can marry too?" She said jokingly, but he didn't laugh.

His smile had frozen slightly. "No — women and women, and men and men."

She'd looked at him with shock on her face. Meredith had never been introduced to this concept before, and she balked at it. "That — that doesn't make sense..." She'd spoken wonderingly, and Frederick's gaze had turned even stonier.

"It's free love, Meredith. I think The Elders tried to weed it out of some, but it's still there," Frederick had looked at her rigid face, and she'd nodded.

"It... it makes sense." She'd replied finally, and Frederick had turned over, away from her, and she'd stared at his back until she'd heard his snores erupting throughout the dense forest.

Now, she exhaled briefly, but kept on walking, leaving imprints of her shoe in the mud. She'd finally changed shoes, wearing Eleanor's worn but comfortable leather hiking ones. Frederick halted ahead of her, and waited until she caught up to him before slinging an arm around her waist. They trudged along, taking steady steps, and Frederick grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. "We're close," He informed her smilingly, and she nodded gleefully, excited. After hearing such wondrous stories about life with the rebels, she was thrilled to actually see this life up close.

"It's not much," Frederick warned her, as if knowing she was dreaming about marble pillars, and beautiful, spacious palaces. Meredith looked at him, unconcerned, sure her vision would be correct, and he was just downplaying it. There would be amazing whitewashed walls, and perfect roofing. There would be a nice bonfire, with wooden benches to sit on around it, and all of the people would be merry. There would be dances all day every day, and music. She visualised glorious clothing, perfect people, all smiling at her brightly. Meredith anticipated grassy clearings, with blossoming plants and flowers at every turn. As she envisioned the place, she let a lazy grin appear on her content face. It looked so perfect, so inviting. She was going to enjoy this.

"This way," Frederick directed, pulling her to the right, and they left the river in their dust as they hiked further up. Meredith looked at the stream just before it disappeared from view, wondering how she would drink water now. Then, she had a startling idea. What would the rebels think, seeing her like this — mud smeared all over her dress, her hair a knotted, unkempt tangle, and her fingernails bitten down to stumps.

She wanted to appear beautiful, almost like she was a godly deity. She wanted the rebels to worship her, to think her the most attractive woman they'd ever seen. Frederick slipped his fingers between hers, and she grinned at him. "We're just moments away," He warned her, and they trudged forwards carefully. He helped her over a rock that protruded from the ground, and she thanked him with a haughty air, mind still trained on her vision of the rebel camp.

They rounded the corner, and Meredith's mouth fell open.