Where Do We Go From Here? (Mircea)

[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Had it really been such a good idea? That doubts about her doings would torment Yassia this early in their flight she wouldn’t have imagined. Not that she wanted to return to Taykhe – far be that thought from her mind! – but still… the excitement of the actual flight had wore off, and slowly Yassia began to realise this was not a game, nor had it ever been one.
She had drawn the line under the last few weeks, where things had reached an unbearable climax. Uncle Guifré had left nothing undone to persuade Yassia to marry her cousin Stéphane, and better yesterday than tomorrow! How he had almost stalked her in the dark corridors of the castle still sent shivers down her spine. Hadn’t he possessed at least an ounce of integrity, the princess could have sworn he would have dragged her to bridal bed himself – to become HIS wife. But no, even Guifré couldn’t fosake every law in the land, he just had a wicked way of circumventing them…

The low thudding of horsehooves had lulled her into some kind of trance, rethinking the cursed events of her life, but now she awoke from it and shook all memories of the past off. Sneaking a sideglance at her stepbrother Mircea, a warm glowing of affection warmed her heart, chasing away the looming shadows. How blessed a girl could be to have such a caring elder brother who took it upon him to keep her safe on the troublesome journey that lay in front of them. Yassia knew she had to give Mircea much credit for not laughing her childish rebellion off, telling her to lay low and accept her irrevocable fate. He had done no such thing, it had actually been HIM coming up with the rough outline of their plan when the Princess had been nothing but a distraught bag of nerves seeking comfort with the only person she knew she could trust completely.

Now, even through all the imminent danger of getting caught and dragged back towards her doom, there was still this inkling of hope: With Mircea protecting her she would be able to reach that foreign land of Albion of which she didn’t know much more than that it lay northwest of her own home and that one had to cross a channel to get there as it proved to be a huge island. Oh how she wished to have payed more attention whenever her mother had told her about the land where she came from! Every tidbit of information now could decide between failure and success of the whole venture.
“Mircea!” she called lowly and indicated to the road ahead of them. “How much farther do you think we’ll get today?”

[mircea]

Mircea was not in fact lost in thought. He was paying attention to every single small detail as they made each step towards their destination. There was a great deal at stake: Yassia's life. She was no longer surrounded by an army, who had pledged their allegiance to the royal family for so many years. She no longer had the security of her castle. There was just him, and Mircea would take this job incredibly seriously. There was too much to lose if he failed.... in fact failure was not an option. He would safely escort her to Albion where he hoped a bright more promising future would await her. Something better than the forced marriage of another man.

It was sickening really, how her uncle had used the king's death to his utmost advantage. Granted, Mircea may be a bit bias considering who the woman was... but still. He had no expectations for a romantic future between them; he just wanted her to be safe. To do what her free will dictated. To be rid of any oppression. It was why he was so sure of his decision to go with her, and would not for a second regret it.

He found himself slowing his horse a bit upon hearing her question and looked at her intently. "Are you getting tired?" He asked in a sternly concerned voice, knowing he was answering a question with a question, but as he previously decided, he would take his job as her sole protector extremely seriously. There was an urgency to get away, but it was not worth compromising her health over. Neither of them were used to traveling such far distances... and it would be a long journey indeed.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Now that Mircea mentioned it, Yassia could feel fatigue creeping up on her like a very unwanted guest. Yes, she was tired, as she had not gotten much sleep the previous nights. It was such a hard thing to get used to, sleeping out in the open, not surrounded by thick, secure walls, but only by the vast plains that formed a vast amount of Ailantha and the adjoining kingdoms. Yassia knew that those plains would vanish soon, being replaced by steep mountains and then hills, other mountains and finally plains again that lead directly to waters people called the Northern Sea.
Even with Mircea close by the sheer thought of being well nigh defenseless in a rough area had frightened the Princess so much she had never got into the sound sleep she was used to, bolting upright with every unknown sound far or near.

But tired and weary as she might be, Yassia was too stubborn to ever mention such things to her stepbrother, let alone pleading him to stop early for the night. She might be a girl and a spoilt one at that, but she would not be the reason for them getting caught before they even started much on their journey! Oh no, she would simply bite it back, the hurting backside from hours and hours on horseback and the likewise hurting and cramping legs. She would smile away her fears and force down the fatigue! She was not weak! If all went well she would become Queen of Ailantha very soon, and as a queen she needed to set an example! This could well be seen as the ultimate test if she was worthy of the crown.
“No, not tired at all!” she appeased him quickly and shifted in her saddle. “I can go as far as sundown and even farther if need be! Whenever you think is appropriate to rest for the night, Mir!”

Yes, she really trusted him completely, more than she ever had trusted her real brother, Ramon. Why that was the case Yassia couldn’t tell, but there really was no use in pondering over it either. Maybe it was the way he had always been there when she needed him, this journey only being the last of many examples. Or maybe it was because she knew him better than anyone else, probably even better than his own mother. She seemed to possess some kind of special key to his heart. Most people would call Mircea brash, or even arrogant and unkind. Yassia knew better. Behind his raptor eyes lay the most gorgeous and loyal soul anyone could imagine.

[mircea]

Mircea was not convinced, but he was not one to argue either. He knew better than to engage in an argument with Yassia, though it seemed the two seldom had cause to disagree. Then again, this was only the start of their journey. Surely, a time would come where they would have strong varying opinions. He did not think spending this much time with one another would damage their well established relationship, he was just braced for the fact that there would be strong disagreements between them. Though this one thing would not be the worst. And Mircea was not going to ask her again. Instead, he would make a decision. Maybe even take a bit of the focus away from her for a moment.

"Well I am rather exhausted," he admitted, though it was somewhat a lie. He could go on longer, and while he was not the best liar, especially around her who knew him all too well, its not like he was not the slightest bit tired. He could do with some rest but she was priority, and something in her tone gave him the hunch that she would not argue with the suggestion of getting some rest either. And so, he slowed his horse even more, so that now it was just walking. "And so, I would like to make a request that we stop for some rest." If she felt the slightest bit bad about stopping, then she needn't take that concern.

"If that of course is alright with you My Lady," he added with a hint if a smile. He said it in almost the slightest teasing, as titles were something they did not often use when talking to one another. But something inside of him wanted her to be reminded that even though they were out in the middle of the woods, even though she was away from her home, even though she was dressed as someone more common than who she truly was.... she was still a Princess. Still a future Queen. And he would never fail the opportunity to remind her of just how important she was to Alaintha.... and to him.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Was he really serious? For a moment Yassia cocked her head like a sparrow, eyeing Mircea intently as he claimed to be tired. Was that his way of allowing her to be weak without losing her face? Or was she thinking far too far and it was really only his poor body he was talking about? Then again, Mircea was a warrior and he was a bad liar to boot. If Yassia was in doubt about his intentions then they had to be questionable. Simple as.
But how to react to that now? The stubborn part of Yassia voted to show off a bit, showing him that she could do better than him, insisting on riding on. Then there was the more reasonable part that urged her to relent and save her strength. This was only the beginning after all.
“Oh you are? Well, in that case…” she trailed off, grinning at him. “I MIGHT feel inclined to grant this request. If only to not make you reconsider and leave me here because you yearn for your cozy bed!”

As if Mircea ever would leave her! That was so out of question the thought only graced Yassia’s mind for a mere split second. This was their journey, their big adventure, however sad the circumstances were. They would succeed together or they would fail together, but none would have to fend for his own. That was a given.
“So, why don’t you just strain your hawk eyes and search for a nice little place to stop by, Conte de Fremente?” she took up the joke, addressing him with his full title. Mircea had become heir to this title the moment his father had died even if the ceremony of officially granting him the estate and title of Fremente had not been held yet. It had been something Yassia’s father had intended to do before he died. The first act of her reign, she had decided long ago, would be to hold that special ceremony, to finally give Mircea what he deserved for his service that surpassed all means of simple loyalty.

Yassia slackened the reins of her horse and looked around, intending to help Mircea with his search for a camp ground.
“Oh, and now that we’re at it, I feel slightly hungry. What’s on the menu, Chef Mircea?”
One of Yassia’s biggest flaws concerning the circumstances was that she had no idea how to cook, not even the slightest. Her feeble attempts in the beginning, born out of the assumption who could concoct remedies could not be a bad cook either had quickly led to Mircea taking over this particular duty. As soon as they got father away from home they could afford to visit taverns, but for now they had to rely on each others skills.

[mircea]

He knew she was only teasing. His sense of humor was never this evident with...well, with anyone else really. Only her. He continued to give a subtle smile, though the amusement was in his voice. When she too slowed her horse, the decision was confirmed. He did not have to use, as she so descrpitvely put it, his 'hawk eyes' too much for they were beginning to near a clearing. "I would not dare reconsider returning for anything." He said it in more of a joking way, as if he feared her angry wrath... but there was complete truth in his words. He really would not return for anything. His everything was right here riding alongside with him.

"Now I am either a Conte, or a Chef. I can not be both," he commented, raising his chin a bit. Oddly enough, he was indeed a rather gifted cook. A skill that he never had to display at any other time in his life. Apparently, he had this hidden talent which was certainly a good thing. It seemed that they balanced each other out rather well. For what he lacked, she made up for and vice versa .The thought alone brought a smile to his face. They began to near the small clearing with enough open space to start a fire. He stopped his horse, dismounting it and moving over to her, holding his arms out so that he could lift her off the horse when she was ready. He knew she could do it herself, and sometimes she enjoyed proving it. But there were other times when he enjoyed helping her and being a gentleman.

As he held his arms out, his eyes quickly scanned the area, making sure there were no immediate threats. Everything seemed alright, so far, but that did not comfort him. He would still be fully on guard for the entire time they were here. He looked back at her, his eyes resting on hers. "Of course I jest. I will prepare whatever My Lady's heart desires." He corrected, a bit more innocently then before. He could not provide her with a grand meal, but they both knew this journey would have its hardships.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Not dare to? Now, what was he getting at?! Was he referring to her considerable temper and made a show if fearing it? Oh wow, that was tough! Somehow Mircea always managed to find exactly the right words to tease her with, just like every brother could. At least that was what her mother had told Yassia once, referring to her own brother, Leon, the very same Yassia was now seeking out.
„Oh, come on, I'm not THAT bad!“ she insisted with a little girlish pout which was followed up by a chuckle to show she was not genuinely upset. At least not that much, the comment had stung of course, but she would be damned if she let it show. So much about her close relationship with Mircea was some kind of a contest in her eyes. Mircea's behaviour was that kind of example she wanted to follow suit, and it always made her excel herself. That was just how it should be right?

This time she chose to let him help her off the horse, placing her hands gently on his shoulders and giving herself a little helping push as his strong hands closed around her waist. Getting down from sitting side-saddle was actually easier than mounting up into this position, but which girl did not like to be treated like a lady? There was a time for assertiveness and there was a time for chivalrous gestures. And with Yassia giving up her role of Princess for the time being the need for such gestures was even more evident. It was so very sweet of Mircea to try and keep up appearances in such a way, as if nothing was wrong, trying to spare her as much hardship as possible. Truly, which girl didn't want to have such a loving brother?
„Oh, you can't?“ she commented as soon as her feet touched the ground. „Now that leaves me with quite the dilemma doesn't it? I mean, you deserve to be a Conte more than anything and your chivalrous behaviour right now just proves you are one born and bred!“

She turned around to affectionately pet her chestnut mares neck before she fastened her reins to a nearby brush, then her attention returned to Mircea.
„But today I need you to be my Chef, else we both starve!“ She made it sound more dramatic than it actually was. Oh yes, she would not get a full decent meal anytime soon, but that was a minor concern compared to the thought of being dragged to marry her detestable cousin because her power hungry uncle wanted to rule her kingdom.
„Can you live with that? Oh, and don't worry, I don't aspire a three course menu!“ she added with her most blasé voice. „Two will have to do!“

[mircea]

When she was firmly balanced on the ground, he lowered his hands from his waist. "Then it is very lucky for you, dear Yassia, that I am adaptable and can conform based on my surroundings." He was not entirely lying. They both had to conform to their surroundings. They had no other choice. But still, it was much easier to do it together. He could not imagine her having to do this on her own. Still, this situation was far better than back home where there was tension among the ranks and those trying to dictate her actions. She never was one to submit and running away surely proved that to them. Had his family not known him better, he would have felt guilty leaving them. But once news spread that she had fled, he knew that they would automatically assume he had gone with her.

"And your needs, which in this case, his food." He walked over to the small clearing and began to pick up surrounding sticks while she tied up the horses. It only took a few minutes to find a suitable amount and he gathered them in the middle so that he could create a fire. Once that was done, he went over to his horse and untied one of the packs. He had tried to give his horse much of the weight of their belongings, not that they took much to begin with, but he did not want her to feel weighed down by it during her travels.

He carried it back to the small area and set it down. Only so that he could use as much strength as possible to pull over a very large and thick fallen branch. That would be where she could sit. To make it a bit more comfortable, he took out one of the blankets and draped it over the branch, leaving the other blanket out for her warmth. And there was just one more quick step: the fire. He pulled out the flint and tinder and it only took a few strokes to spark a flame which successfully lit the collection of sticks. He stayed crouched on the ground, but now focused his gaze on her.

"Well that sounds fairly reasonable of you. Since you are in a compromising mood, you can now go catch whichever animal you would like, and I will cook it for you." He was kidding in his suggestion for her to go hunt. He would never ask her to do that, for many reasons. He had enough problems leaving her here alone while he went to hunt. His paranoid mind thought of all possible scenarios that could exist in his absence.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

With caring eyes Yassia watched Mircea set up the camp aptly and quickly, as he had the previous days. It was almost funny how quickly some sort of routine had established between them, and even funnier how they both seemed to live by it. The place might vary, as might the time of day, but the steps stayed the same. Yassia actually often felt bad just standing there, watching for the most part, but Mircea’s movement were so swift and very well thought through she felt like spoiling it if she lend a hand in her awkward way.
Everyone at court had considered her to be a bit of a wild child, rather staying outdoors and enjoying embroidery or playing with dolls like nice little princesses should, but whatever she had done hadn’t provided her with much means to survive out in the open without guidance. The emphasize had been put too much on the game character of it all.

In the end she just sat down on the log he had so lovingly provided for her, smiling to show her gratitude and sighing in relief as she stretched her sore limbs.
“Goodness gracious… I’ll think you’ll never make a warrior princess out of me. Though, we have only just started, right? One never knows what the future might bring.”
Her face puckered up in mild confusion at his last remark, and her hand subconsciously moved down to her dagger, the only weapon she could probably use. Was he joking? Well, it was only right she would do her fair share of the tasks living on your own provided you with, Mircea wasn’t her servant after all! And if she wanted to pass as a commoner’s girl in the future, she better learned a few things first.
“Well, I could!” she offered. “A rabbit or such I could always kill with a flying dagger, you know my aim!” Yassia was actually lifting herself off the log already, when another thought crossed her mind. As cold as the nights could be there was one thing more important than food. Lighting a fire. She couldn’t even do that, though it looked fairly simple.

“Show me, please !” she demanded, indicating to the flint he was still holding in his hands and lowered herself on her knees in front of the fire, next to him. “You never know what could happen, and lighting a fire is vital to everyone travelling. Plus, if I learn it, I can light a fire next time, so you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

[mircea]

She was right. Neither knew what the future held for them. He may have to teach her a few things, though she was a rather strong woman on her own. While he had no plans to be separated from her, he knew she would survive on her own. Of course, there was no need to test that theory. But quite honestly, he believe in her capability. If she was determined to do something, then she would most certainly do it. So he knew better than to challenge her. He watched as she came closer, asking for him to teach her how to start a fire.

"You just scrape it against this, at a sort of angle," he told her, trying not to overly complicate the process of starting a fire. She did have a good point. She had to learn how to start one. So he would not argue with her rightful logic. Taking advantage of the fact that the wind had not yet picked up and so the fire was not fully started. He stood up from his crouched position and began to stop on it with his foot, putting out the small flame with great ease. Once it had diminished, he crouched back down, passing her the flint and tinder.

"Now you try," he said with a slight smile. Why put off the teaching process when she could learn now. It could save them time later since time was of the essence right now. She was after all, a fast learner. He then walked over a few steps, taking one of the blankets and draping it over her shoulders; just in case she did not get the fire started right away, he did not want her to be cold. "I will return very soon, and I will not stray far." He would risk not catching a whole lot, if it meant she was still in his sights as he could not fulfill his vow to protect her if he strayed too far from her. Even then though, he did not want to leave her.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Angle, what ‘sort of angle’?! Could anyone be more cryptic about something than Mircea was right now? Yassia felt the all-too-familiar annoyance and impatience creeping up on her, her biggest flaw apart from her temper. The sad thing was that both flaws seemed to account for each other most of the time.
Holding one piece of flint in one hand and the other in ‘some sort of angle’ – feeling like an utter fool already – she tried to work with the instructions Mircea had given her, placing the tinder on the ground like she had seen him doing countless times. This should be easy… right? A walk in the figurative park.

Of course it was not. Whatever angle Mircea had aspired, it seemed not to be one Yassia could figure out. At first the flintstones didn’t even produce sparks like they were supposed to, and when she finally created one, it surely didn’t do her the favor of placing itself directly on the tinder where it belonged. Just great!
With every failure Yassia’s movements grew more choppy and angry, even though she knew that might not help her cause. “Come on, come ON!” she growled at the flint as if this was all not her own inability but sheer malignance of those two grey stones in her hands, taking it upon themselves to give her the hardest time imaginable.

Finally, with a typical furious motion Yassia threw them to the ground, calling after Mircea who hadn’t even walked more than two steps: “Please… show me again or make me SEE it somehow.” Her voice changed from angry to almost piteous. “I’m such a failure! I can’t even do the easiest of things!”
Really, with her being such a total imbecile, how would she ever been able to pull her on weight? She might not need to be able to light a fire to be a queen, but this was borderline dangerous public safety! Looking up at Mircea she braced herself for the scorn her stepbrother would surely let rain down on her now. Oh, he would have a good laugh for sure! Hadn’t it been her in this position she would have surely laughed as well!

[mircea]

Mircea was well aware of her temper, which was why he sometimes provoked her, and sometimes would calm her. It just depended on the circumstances of everything. Right how, he planned to do a bit of both. When he heard her demanding the flint to work, he paused and turned his head to look at her. She was getting worked up. This was her calm before the storm. He just looked at her, seeing if she would be able to get it, but she seemed to be having a bit of difficulty. It was why he went no further into the woods, until he was certain she had achieved what she was trying to do. Well, so much for the calm. She threw down the things with defeat, asking him to show her one more time. Mircea did not need to be told twice.

He now completely turned and walked back towards her, a soft smile forming on his lips, only lasting long enough to speak his next phrase. "You do realize that yelling at inanimate objects will not make them work." He was of course, teasing her, acknowledging her demands in telling it to work. "Even if you are royalty," he added before crouching down once again beside her, and picking up the flint and tinder once again. It was when she claimed she was a failure that he had to interject on her own behalf. He knew that she carried many stresses with her, many burdens, and he did not want her to think so lowly of herself, for in his eyes, she was admirable, she was perfection. His next few words were spoken with deep sincerity, as he looked at her, a seriousness only present so that he could convince and remind her of what he was about to say.

"You are not a failure. You are princess of Ailantha. Rightful heir to the throne. Someone of grace and admiration." He wanted to, needed to remind her of that, if ever she forgot . . . especially due to their current situation. "And a strong determined woman who does not give up just because she did not succeed the first time." With those words, ones he hoped reminded her of who she was, he held out the two tools for her to take once more. If she needed further reassurance, he would give it to her. If she needed guidance again, he would provide it. He came because he wanted to be there for her, with her every need . . . he was at her disposable and something as small as lighting a fire would be no exception.

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[Yassia Dyfrène de Ailantha]

Of course he would now tease her, she had expected nothing less, but that didn’t help her in the slightest to not get worked up by his words. Mircea never meant any harm, but the worst thing was his words were actually true. It was stupid to yell at things that couldn’t respond and also would not obey her, because they simply weren’t able to.
“Angh!!” A mostly inarticulate exasperated sound escaped her lips and she clenched her right hand into a claw, not knowing what else to say or do to express the utmost annoyance she was feeling at him. She felt highly tempted to now throw either flint or tinder at HIM, if she still was that young girl of twelve she might have even thrown herself at him to bring him down – but for neither she wanted to give him the satisfaction! Her pride was still greater than her annoyance for the moment.

But then, just like that and to Yassia’s greatest surprise, Mircea changed his tune. Gone was the teasing, he seemed so very serious, as if he wanted her to take every word to heart. In complete wonder she just sat there and looked at him, wanting to believe him, wanting to feel like that with all her might. Someone of grace and admiration… oh if only!
Still, his words warmed her soul – and they put her to shame! He was right, what was she thinking?! She had only tried for her first time, she couldn’t expect to master such skills inside a day. Even Mircea might have needed a while to learn it!
“Forgive me”, she muttered and gently took the tools from his hand. “I am being ridiculous, and still you are bearing with me. I’ll promise I’ll be better… more patient or whatever.” The Princess shrugged with a smile. “I cannot very well give up just now, you are right. I know someone who might like that far too much!” She glared at the flint as if it beared an all too familiar face.

“Watch me close and correct me, please!” she asked Mircea and then tried once more, hitting the flintstones against each other, trying to produce a spark that would fall down and inflame the tinder. Three times still brought no other outcome than a mingy flicker close to the stones themselves that didn’t last long enough to become a spark. Yassia was about to get frustrated again, but she forced it down and sighed, trying once more… a spark soared into the air, but it wasn’t well placed enough to reach the tinder and so expired while still falling to the ground.
“Uh-huh!” Yassia looked at Mircea. “Was this the ‘sort of angle’ you talked about? Seems I don’t get it after all.”