The Silent Princess [Memory #6]

"Mm? Oh-"

Yes she had clearly been lost in her own mind for some time. She almost missed that Desmond was talking to her! A little flustered, she folded her arms on her lap and listened. She immediately nodded when asked whether she had used those spells. She had only told him so- Wait. 'Did he meant have I used those spells personally?' Her eyes widened. It had been her court mages and others who could channel Farore spell, not her. So-

"I haven't," she admitted. "We tried those spells, yes. But it wasn't me." And she could not do Farore either. Her nearly-limitless magic pool and perfect balance of light and darkness came at a cost.

And to- leave it alone?? When even with this much care it could not survive on its own?? Marianne had already opened her mouth to quickly answer when she stopped.

For all we know, the Silent Princess can only thrive out there in the wild

To plant it and leave it alone - to let it grow just as it would in nature.

Had she been doing... wrong? She surmised that since they were declining in the wild, they needed something else, something extra to help them grow and overcame their inherent weaknesses. She had tweaked the amount of water, the type of soil, acidity of the topsoil, the bedrock, all types and combinations of fertilizer, and yes, even some magic. Could it be... that it was best to leave them be? Simply to protect it from the wildlife and the elements, against which the flower had no protection, and to let it thrive on its own? Surely, it was not something she had thought of trying, for she was so sure that it would have failed. If not for Desmond pointing it out to her....

Oh Desmond.... This is why she liked him.

"I certainly never tried leaving it alone...." Slowly, a smile appeared on the queen's lips. It was rare for her to admit her oversight, but it was rare for her not to acknowledge a valid advice too."Thank you, Desmond. I'd certainly test that theory."

Trust, they say, is a two-way street. Maybe... maybe he really deserved it.

Gently, slowly, she moved her hand towards the singular flower, touching its edges with her fingertips.

"You may have noticed that I am associated with Roses,"she said, treading her words carefully, "It is on my personal emblem and on my personal seal. It is one flower I like best.... But when I was little and was tutored by other noble children, they called me Silent Princess behind my back. And... not in a kind way...."

Her dainty finger softly traced the outline of the delicate petal. It moved slightly swaying with the gentle breeze.

"...Can you perhaps guess why?"

It seemed that the flower, having kept herself so stubbornly within her bud for so long, was ready to bloom.

Honesty.

The Queen listened to his each and every words, letting it flowed uninterrupted. She somewhat mirrored Desmond's position, sliding gently to her side so that her legs were bent sideways, her body leaning closer towards the man. His hand lazily played with her hair and she let it, the slight tug on her hair calming her yet making her giddy at the same time.

"You understand," she commented, smiling, "My sister said the same thing.... She said that, a princess of Hyrule should always be gracious and welcoming, beautiful and desirable for everyone, but always ready to... to stave off those who step out of the line... Umm.... No, actually she used stronger words which I won't repeat," An uneasy chuckle, "Such was my sister Beatrix. But the essence remained. Silk hiding steel, she said. That is why my emblem is a Rose. A thorny one."

And she smiled in a defeated tone, "I certainly have mastered how to stave off everyone. But being gracious and beautiful... I still have much to learn...."

She paused, but something in her tone and her wandering eyes said that she was not finished, yet, and that it would be better not to interrupt her lest she clammed up again. A boulder who had starter rolling best be let that way, since it may never moved again.

Slightly, her lower lips trembled.

"About why I was called the name of this flower... You were partially right, Desmond. They thought I could not handle the life of the court. But not because I was thought of as frail. Quite the opposite, in fact....

"...I was deemed too wild...."

Her right hand which was tracing the Silent Princess lines moved towards her left arm, which was supporting her leaning body, gripping it. Desmond would notice that she was gripping her own arm very tight.

Slowly, a shape of a miniature Shadow Hand formed in front of them, hovering above the delicate white flower.

"This Demise Magic which I can control so easily now...." she continued, "It was not like this when I was little. It was wild... uncontrollable.... It was violent and vengeful. I had not properly walked yet and I... I had already maimed someone...."

Her eyes... hardened. She was clenching her teeth. It was clear that this was something which pained her so, yet she soldiered on for her listener's sake.

"I was... very different from my brother and sister, or from The Queen and The King.... Still am, actually. Have you ever seen them personally, Desmond?" A glance at him, without expecting an answer, "They are all very... radiant. Bright and beautiful.... Their golden hair and warm eyes can win anyone.... They are blessed by Hylia's light since birth....

"Yet I... I am black-haired. And with dead silver eyes.... And instead of giving light as someone of Hylia's blood should, shadows followed me everywhere.... Of course, when a princess like that enrolled... When a princess like me appeared, everyone would not take it kindly, wouldn't they...?

"And I-I cannot blame them, honestly.... Even all the gossips and cruel words they said and which their children repeated.... They were right to do so. Very right...."

Now she was digging at her own arm with her nails. Her voice was a little different from someone who was slowly being tortured.

She gulped. "I still remember it.... My first memory... It was spring. In the inner courtyard and sun was shining. I stood next to a tree, alone, looking at other kids playing in groups. I remember I asked myself then, 'Why won't anyone play with me?' 'Why do they disperse whenever I came near?' That scene.... That scene will probably never leave me... as along as I am alive...."

Swallowing hard, she paused.

"As years went by, I instinctively learned something to survive. If I... If I could stay out of focus... downplayed my princess status... tried to make others looked better when they compared themselves to me, then... then I could be more easily accepted.... I could join those groups, not merely outside looking in....

She snorted, sounding disgusted with herself.

"Thus began the perfectly ordinary princess. The black sheep of the Royal Family, one who never excelled in anything but never lagged behind too.... The absolute disappointment.... I... I learned to keep my mouth shut and trailed others, anything so that I could follow them but was never noticed I was there. And it worked. To some extent.... No one would like to walk with me, but at least they did not pushed me away when I did so. I was the Silent Princess -I was never there.... I existed but not existed at the same time, just like this rare flower. I was literally Silent...."

The sun had begun to slid westward now. The face of the queen, streaked by the lengthening shadow, was like that of a prisoner behind bars.

"Another thing I learned... was the magic word: Sorry." Ah, now it was clear where she was going. The smile on her face was very, very bitter. "I learned that, if I bowed my head and apologized, even for something that I had not done or had nothing to do with me.... Life was easier for me.... And people liked me more.... No matter what hatred I was facing, if I apologized, I would be let go.... Over time I was so afraid that anyone would feel slighted or insulted by me without me knowing that I... I simply apologized instinctively. I thought to myself that it was better to be safe rather than risk being hated for something I did not realize I had done.... It became a habit of mine.... And even now, that feeling is still embedded deeply within me...."

Her gaze, slowly, turned towards Desmond. She was teary-eyed, but did not cry. Her strategy of piling happiness beforehand had worked.

"You told me that I should not apologize too much.... Now you know why...." She bit her lips. Goodness. She still felt bad from that conversation they had when they ride towards Goron City. "And in the future... When we... umm, when we interact with each other, I'd probably still apologize a lot.... I just... I just don't want it to be a possible source of dislike towards me.... I don't... I don't expect you to understand but... you'd at least know why...."

She swallowed.

"...Sorry."

This girl.... She went through her own painful memories... only to apologize about herself. Afraid of something that Desmond might not even consider. Afraid of losing the few precious people she could have a connection with.

And that face, that face who repeatedly denied her own condition in that field of flower.... Within those eyes was her first memory. And it was abandonment.

Honesty, from the heart.

The hand that pulled her into an embrace... it was firm, stable. A warm pair of hands which took other's burdens even when encumbered by their own. Marianne lowered her head and let herself be pulled closer. As his nose touched her head, her warm breath caressed his neck.

She closed her eyes. She was already liked.... Somehow, she knew it was the case. But the feeling in her chest... they would not go away. Marianne would forever be a prisoner of her own thoughts.

When the grip loosened, she did not try to move away, nor did she pulled him into an embrace of her own. She stayed in place, her face down, inviting Desmond to embrace her once again.

They both needed it for what was to come. The moment he saw the night sky again.... She was right, then. Desmond had gone through something which created that look deep in his eyes. Yet, the image of seeing the night sky again for the first time inadvertently dug up another unwelcome memories....

Daughter of Light and Shadow,
Why did you run away?

The first light she saw back then... was the concerned face of a Princess of the Zoras.

"..."

Shy, unsure eyes lifted towards him when he began to tell about his childhood. Desmond was... an awful kid? There does seem to be a wild streak within his demeanor hidden somewhere.... Somehow imagining his face as a little rascal-

Marianne's eyes dimmed. Arena.... that was why.... Her hand gently moved towards his arm when she showed her his scar, softly tracing the scar with the tip of her fingers, the scar reflected in the golden ring she wore.

"And it still hurts...." she whispered, words quickly dissipated by the breeze.

She listened to his every words without speaking herself. Only an occasional nod and her lips tightened showed him that she was listening, and that she took his words to heart. It took him great pains to share such memories, just like she did. The very fact that he did it for her was something she really appreciated.

Thus, when his hand moved down to smooth her hair she caught it and tenderly guided it to rest on her cheek, which she pressed upon with her eyes closed. The callousness of the stablehand's hard-working palm and the smooth pale skin of a queen who rarely saw the sun might never should have joined. Yet here they were, both level on the ground and dirt, watched by the frail Silent Princess who seemed almost too shy to look away.

She could have said something about his predicament. She could have easily found words of encouragement to dispel such memories, or an excerpt from philosophies to make the best of such experiences. She could have launched on another story of her own, or an anecdote about others so that one did not have to feel they were shouldering the burdens alone. She could even picked one of her many collection of well-known poems that would fit the mood. She should have told him that it was okay, that everything had come to pass, that he was here and now. That he was appreciated.

But somehow... none of them she wanted to say. They were two different people, caught in different types of pain and both emerged scarred as a result. What words would suffice to bridge them without downplaying one or undermining others? What words could one give when both knew they could not follow their advice themselves? What should one say, that had not been said already, and adding more would just repeating sentences? Even a thank you or a sorry would not suffice....

And so Marianne simply said nothing, letting the touch of her cheek and the slight pressure of her arm on his spoke for her instead. Under her closed eyes, she hoped that these feelings that could not be conveyed with any words, could somehow be let known. Let the gentle breeze played with her hair, their strands lightly brushing against his hand. Let the moist tip of her eyes spoke. Let this silent prayer in her chest reached the heavens above....

Because for once, Marianne de Hyrule's words had failed her.

Honesty, from the soul.

Slowly, Marianne opened her eyes. Her thin lips gently parted, forming a half-hushed sentence.

"My thoughts... is that you are allowed to be more honest, Desmond...."

They were so close now. She could see the contour of his lips, of his strong jaw, of his sun-kissed neck and the shades outdoor work had imprinted on his skin. Downward, the curve of his chin made way to his broad, well-defined shoulders. Still more downward, that scar....

"You said before, in Goron City, that you did not have any questions for me...." Each of her breath now brushed against his skin, fragrant and humid, "But that was not entirely true... was it?"

Someone saying that a living person besides him should have died already. Could Desmond really, truly, held no interest in such statement? Could he really had not wondered, even a little bit? She separated their touching heads and stared straight at Desmond's face. His hand she gently lowered, down from her cheek and back to his lap.

Perhaps it was the trick of the descending sun, but for a moment, a her silver eyes seemed to be... yellow for an instant.

"If you want to know something about me, be honest with it now, Desmond.... Ask a few questions of your own if you are so inclined." And for some reason, the tone she used and the way she said the last sentences would remind Desmond of a certain noble lady whom he met when recovering from the battle. Almost if they were mother and daughter. "There might not be a second time...."

"Go on, please. You have me all for yourself until the sun sets." And she added a smile, as if saying that, yes, right now it was okay. He would not hurt her or anything.

You deserve it, Desmond Dragelion....

Honesty?

A nod and a smile. Marianne listened to Desmond's words with kindness in her eyes. Yes. She had guessed that it would come to that, eventually. He wanted her to tell him on her own volition, while she wanted a reassurance that he did want to know, afraid of filling him on things he perhaps did not need. They were both people like that... weren't they? They were like two paper boats floating down a river, each eyeing one another yet would simply be glad that they moved together, eventually.

It was only a matter who could conquer their own fears first.

"Why do you keep calling for me?”

Marianne could not help but picked up the slight teasing tone behind those words, and she responded with a smile in kind. Anyone else asked a question like that, she would have listed a dozen reasons why their presence was needed.... Well, there were reasons for Desmond's presence, too. But she had resolved to let Desmond knew the truth behind her actions.

"I have just... called for you twice, Desmond...." she gently reminded him, "Once before we went to Goron City. And once today...." But the unsure tone she used indicated that she would have finished it with 'Has it been... too much of a bother for you?' and apologize again, something that Desmond might pick up. Such was her nature, to answer question with questions. She had to visibly reined herself not to do so this time.

For him.

Her eyes, lowered, she started playing with her fingers. Her words were trodden really, really carefully. "I guess... It is because I enjoyed being in your presence somewhat, Desmond. Your questions... Your insights.... They were... fascinating. They made me intrigued and opened up on things I would not have realized without you.... And... maybe I like hearing your opinion on things. Unburdened by my status or the responsibility I carry everyday...."

Looking up, her gaze shyly searched for his eyes.

"When you promised me your time, when we first met... I was... I was very happy back then. I did not show it much, but I was felt really happy....

It felt like I have gained a friend."

She smiled. The young woman who called herself Queen. When she looked as bashful as she was now, who would believe the heavy crown she wore? She was simply a girl, lost and unsure.

Her right hand moved to grip her left arm again. "And you helped me a lot. Your gentleness with Macha.... Your gallant figure as you tried to help me against the assassins.... How you noticed I was afraid of Skulltulas and offered to go ahead....

And you kept promising me things. When I asked what did you feel about me, you said you liked me as I was and that you would always help me. That... that made me happy, Desmond. Really did. In Goron City, I remember you said that you would like to make me happy....

Please know.... Please know that you already did."

There again. The perfect row of teeth were showing, a smile which reached her eyes and made them shine. A smile which he would perhaps knew too well.

And she was ready for the next question. That was as far as someone like Marianne could admit, for she was never comfortable with feelings.

Honesty?

“That’s still a call or two more than most people.” Desmond noted, “And most nobility I’ve interacted with haven't taken their stable hands to an important military trip nor opened up their time for them.”

"I thought... I thought you would prefer me to not act like most nobility...." she replied weakly. For the first time, guilt was visible on her face. "Sorry...."

Ah... Desmond had crossed another line. Someone as fragile and self-deprecating as her.... She had just explained her extreme need of reassurance; that she constantly second-guessed herself and unsure whether she had slighted others. Desmond pointing out how she called on him one too many of course made her wonder whether he would prefer not to. She believed it was not the case -he had stated his reasons himself- but her mind would not compromise.

If Desmond's scar was a streak on his arm hers was invisible, hiding behind her somber eyes.

She visibly had to rein herself not to ask back what his preference was. Her eyes went up to him, conflicted and unsure how to continue answering.

"Have I called you... one too many?"

She could not hold it after all.

Oh no.

The words... worked wonders. Even if he had said that simply to appease her; even if his words were simply because he had noticed her uneasiness, Marianne did not care at present. True she might still question herself after this, now that Desmond had brought it up that she had perhaps called him two or more than most people. She might consciously re-evaluate it later, for such things were not easy to leave her mind. But now, now she heard him speak. And she felt glad for it.

"Mmhm. You actually had...." she replied. The sunlit expression she had when Desmond first met her gradually returned. "But I don't mind.... Or maybe, because it was you, I don't mind...."

She moved her right hand back to her lap. "If that is another promise, remember that I may keep calling you...." she said, clearly in jest. "But do not make me cry or upset too much Desmond Dragelion! As long as you still live in Hyrule, I am still your Queen!"

She cutely wiggled her finger in a "no no" gesture towards Desmond, looking really not menacing at all, what with her attire being so casual and splotched with dirt. A little queen of a Kingdom. A little Marianne, she was.

Westward, the sun continued to slide.

~~~