Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Kaleidoscope ❯ Chapter 4

Kaleidoscope: 3

Southern England, 1555

"Ave Maria, grati a plenta, dominus, tecum, benedicta tu."

Misty sang softly to herself as she wriggled into yet more yards of silk. She studied her reflection, and groaned. A lavender coloured puffball stared angrily out at her. Misty sighed, and scrutinised every inch of herself in the looking glass. Steeping away from her reflection, Misty gently swayed her dress, feeling the silk slide across her bare legs underneath. She glided around the room, guided by unseen hands. She pretended she was dancing with Ash, that she felt his hand on hers once more.

Suddenly, her door flew open, creating an unusually cold draught, and a powerful hand grabbed her viciously by the wrist and yanked her to a standstill. Misty looked up as defiantly as she dared at her stepfather.

"Stop that noise!" he growled at her.

"Wh-what displeases you, sir?" Misty asked meekly.

"You child!" he roared. "You and your infernal singing!" Misty shuddered as he spat over her, and his foul breath overwhelmed her. She hated him. It took a lot for someone like Misty to resort to hating someone, but she hated him. He was the one who had been the darkness for time immemorial. Once there had been light, but she could not remember it. She forced herself to look into his sunken bloodshot eyes again.

"My apologies sir. It will not happen again." For some reason, this seemed very funny to Sir Thomas, as a rumbling sound emitted from his throat that Misty could only guess was sardonic laughter.

"You're damned right that it won't," he half threatened, before releasing her roughly and striding out her door, slamming it behind him.

~*~

Misty and her cousin Emilia proceeded down the stairs together. Emilia was all chit-chat, talking about her marriage options, Misty wasn't listening at all. Usually, Sir Thomas threatened her more than twice a day, and she ignored him. But there was something about this particular, unknown threat. Something harrowing about his words that made Misty dread the coming feast. She could feel things changing around her.

Emilia excused herself when the two of them reached the bottom of the stairs, and immediately delved into dignified conversation with her elder sister Cecily and the elder son of the Lord of Pewterbury to the west. Misty sighed as she leaned against the back of a pillar, trying to hide. She hated this part - all the rich Lords and Ladies from miles around congregating in a crowd of wax scent, thick wine and arrogance.

Then, suddenly, Ash was there, and smiling innocently, he grabbed her arm gently and pulled her into the vacant drawing room next to the ballroom.

"You are too bold!" Misty gaped. "Hands are not permitted to attend this function! You must leave, you must not risk your apprenticeship for me!"

"Do not fret yourself, mi'lady," said Ash, striking a pose. "I would brave this, and a thousand times moreover for you, dear lady!" He stopped as he saw Misty was staring at him cynically. He lowered his head. "Erm…Duke Albert wants this to be my first function as his squire. But I am relieved of duties until the meal…"

"That rings more like the truth!" laughed Misty. "But I appreciate the lie!" Misty studied Ash, and had to try hard not to burst out laughing. He was wearing what she assumed to be one of her male cousin's outfits, with a big felt hat with a feather in it. It was so far off from his open neck shirt and scruffy breeches.

"You look nice," Ash murmured, the note of sincerity in his voice meaning more to Misty than all the flowered compliments in the world.

"You exaggerate," she smiled. "You look… most respectable."

The two of them headed back to the main ballroom, just in time, as Sir Thomas was introducing "his" daughters. Misty had to yank her arm away from Ash's and run quickly to the front of the room, trying hard not to look at Sir Thomas's steely gaze, and not to think of the beating she would get when the guests went home.

Stepping away from her sisters after the introductions, Misty quickly lost herself in the crowd of people. Suddenly, she felt a hand slide down the back of her skirt. She whirled around in horror, to come face to face with Sir Gary Oak; one of her stepfather's flunkies. He was a man in his forties, greying, balding, very obese and short, and had breath as bad as Sir Thomas's.

"Good sir…" she warned, through gritted teeth. "You will kindly keep your hands to yourself!" Defiantly, she grabbed her skirts and hurried off to where she could see Ash's dark head in the crowd. The whole group moved out of the manor, and arrived in the Town Square for the Harvest Feast.

~*~

Ash did not know how much depended on this meal, so as a result he was petrified and preoccupied at getting everything correct, keeping an eye on the people further up the table and copying their every movement. Misty was one of these people - she spoke animatedly to one of her sisters now as she dabbed a hunk of bread in her broth, her smiles as yeomen from the village came up and wished her family good fortune and health lighting up the night far more effectively than the candles.

Ash almost slipped back into slovenly table manners as he watched her. I met her nine years ago, but I have known her but a day. I can't help but strive to be near her. I feel like I have known her forever and will know her for all eternity. What does this mean?

"Attention, please!" called Duke Albert. "My Lady-wife and I have something to announce." A sea of faces, the entire village turned to him, and he smiled warmly as the Duchess Emilia stood up and took his hand. "This is a fine night! I am glad to be spending such a temperate eve with such fine people!" This politeness raised a cheer from the slightly tipsy crowd that were sitting around the square. "I am both pleased and privileged to announce that my eldest daughter, Lady Cecily…" He indicated with his gesturing arm, and Cecily stood up, and curtseyed gracefully. "…is to be given in marriage to the eldest son of my dear friend, Sir Flint! Young Sir Brock, I am happy to welcome you into our family!"

As Brock stood up to give Cecily a chaste kiss, and shake the hand of Duke Albert, everyone applauded sincerely and racuously. Ash felt a slight pang in his chest. Sir, and Lady. Ever since he was young, all he had ever wanted was to give his mother descendants of status equal to those of her squanderous ancestors. In his fantasies, imminent war would threaten England, and he would rise to the challenge and be awarded the status of Knight. As the boisterous applause went on, Ash contemplated his desire again, but in a new variation, he mounted his Rapidash, rode to the Boddington Manor and claimed-- Ash shook his head violently, as if he wanted to physically shake the thought out.

Suddenly, there was a tinkling sound, as someone hit the side of their ale jug. Everyone looked up expectantly, as Sir Thomas stood up; Lady Rose standing beside him, looking sickly and faint. He made no move to hold her hand.

"Ladies, and, um…gentlemen," he began, obviously incapacitated with drink. "I too have a…joyous occasion to announce. It is the marriage of my dear daughter - Lady Misty Boddington." A ripple of noise went through the crowd, and the people who knew who Misty was, pointed her out to those who didn't.

Misty sat at the table, staring into space. She couldn't think straight. He'd said her name…he was marrying her off to get rid of her? Her mind cleared, and she looked up at Sir Thomas with renewed hatred.

"My marriage, sir?" echoed Misty, faintly. Sir Thomas beamed at her, but his eyes were hard and cold.

"Yes, darling daughter. To an old dear friend of mine. He's quite taken with you, my dear. Ardent as a man half his age!" Sir Thomas indicated to the left of him, and Sir Gary stood up fumbling, wiping his greasy hands on his breeches, and smiled a yellow-toothed smile at his betrothed. Misty stomach churned.

"But cousin Thomas, she is yet young in the world!" argued Duke Albert. "Let her be at least a summer more! You have two daughters more ripe than she."

"The girl is 15. By all points considered it is overdue for all three, I admit. Yet Sir Gary has chosen, and I believe he has chosen wisely."

"But -" began Duke Albert.

"ENOUGH!" screamed Misty, finding her voice and rising in fury, pounding the thick wooden table so hard the dishes clattered. "Hell below will be as cold as Winter solstice before that despicable oaf covets me!" Sir Thomas advanced on her menacingly, a look of rage and disbelief in his small eyes.

"Wretched girl! It is not your place to tell me whom you shall or shall not marry! How dare you? I stand in place of a father to you, and if I choose to give you in marriage to Sir Gary, you will respect my wishes! No, my ORDER!" Misty had no answer, her face was pale. "Now, seal the precontract."

Sir Gary sidled up to her, and before she could protest, he pulled her into his arms and clamped his wet lips on her soft ones, almost bruising them. Her senses were overwhelmed. He tasted like ale and garlic and clammy skin. Misty's stomach heaved again, and before she could stop herself, she shoved him away so hard that he stumbled, and fell into a puddle of mud. He smirked at her, as his servants helped him up.

"Little wildcat," he purred, as he locked her in his gaze. "Wait till I have you alone!"

"Hell will freeze over!" Misty repeated, as she backed away frantically, almost stumbling over the leg of the wooden bench.

"You DARE defy me, girl?" yelled Sir Thomas.

"I am the daughter of a Knight! I am the daughter of a great man! I will marry a worthy gentleman, and you will not prevent it!"

With a cry of rage, Sir Thomas leapt at her, and grabbed her shoulder so hard she cried out in pain. His lips were white with anger. There were cries of protest from Lady Rose, the Duke and Duchess and Violet. Everyone else was too scared to move.

"I am not yours, and I shall never be his," Misty stated defiantly, then cried out in pain as Sir Thomas's fist shot out, and caught the side of her face. She couldn't believe he was daring to beat her, in front of the whole village and Duke Aylesbury. He must be very drunk.

That was it. Ash snapped into action, and jumped from the table. From the punch, Misty was now on the floor, her head reeling, and her top lip dripped salty blood. She was disorientated, but as she looked up at her stepfather from her hands and knees, she smiled.

"Never…" she whispered, before Sir Thomas advanced on her again in fury, and the last thing she heard before the bliss of unconsciousness took over, were the deep voices of her uncle and Ash, roaring in ire.

~*~

When she came to, she was only aware of darkness and silence, save for skin-crawling scratching noises from the unseen corners. Her head felt heavy, and pain behind her eyes protested as she lifted it. Flakes of dried blood fell as she rotated her aching jaw.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she realised she was in the gatehouse room, that was no longer used. She and her sisters had been sent here as young children when they had misbehaved. She was lying on an ancient wooden bed, the mattresses stuffed with mouldy straw, and covered by an itchy, thin woollen blanket. As for the scratching noises, she could hear…

"Rats…" she whispered, petrified. She tucked herself back into the bed, the blanket made out of sacking material that scratched her bare skin. Sir Thomas means to starve me, terrify me and beat me until I agree to marry Sir Gary…God only knows how long he's going to keep me in here, she realised, dismally.

The straw rustled again, and she made out the hiss of a rat from the far side of the room. Her courage wavered. Can I do it? Can I live in here until they have to let me out? She didn't know if she could. She'd have to try and escape. She didn't know where she'd go - anywhere but here. I'm getting ahead of myself,she thought sadly. She had been locked in here for hours at a time as a younger child. There was no means of escape.

She got out of the bed again, and walked shivering over to where there was a small slit of a window. She brushed the cobwebs away from the gap, and a little more light entered the room. She looked out at the cloudy, threatening sky. It was odd to think that earlier she had watched the sky at its most beautiful with Ash, and now it, and everything, looked so different.