A E Johnson

by alice johnson

  commented. Dane did not know if he was being

  serious or not. “Not about taming or submitting, but

  it’s all about respect,” he softly said.

  Wandering into the meadows, it was not the place

  Harris wanted to be, the wide-open meadow played

  with his senses, he could hear the breeze through the

  long, low grasses, the smells of poppies, daisies, peas,

  clover, bush vetch, cornflowers, and all mannerisms of

  long meadow grasses, were all beautiful to see, smell

  and hear, but he was used to a more ordered place of

  relaxation, woodlands and forests were usually his

  chosen retreats.

  The woodlands of the Cronnin gardens offered a

  shelter from the heavy pollens of the meadow. A few

  butterflies and bees offered Librye the wonderous

  delight she always wished to see on her visits to the

  gardens, the birds offered a perfect chorus as they sat

  in one of the temples of the Cronnin wood. The

  outdoors was his home, the palace offered nothing but

  work and shelter. He looked from the pagoda, to the

  daunting superstructure from the shadow of the

  Cronnin wood. He watched as Librye wandered

  outside. He still was not sure what he was to teach her,

  a girl who knew everything, was proving to be a serious

  challenge.

  As she wandered through the wood, he watched

  her picking small stones from the ground, no bigger

  than cons. She walked back towards him, gently, she

  placed them on the marble semicircle bench where he

  sat under the pagoda.

  “What are those?” he asked as he looked to the

  ordinary looking stones.

  “They are my treasures,” she softly said, she

  seemed proud to have found them.

  Harris lowered his brow, he seemed uninterested.

  “They’re stones, Librye, put them back,” he laughed.

  “They aren’t just stones,” she softly said. Her

  bright blue eyes glared towards him. A breeze rushed

  across the floor of the wood. “Watch,” she softly said.

  She took his hand and turned it palm up, taking a

  stone she placed it in his hand. “Sometimes, we see

  something ordinary,” she flickered her eyes, inviting

  him to look down. Harris watched. She placed her

  finger on the top of the stone, a tiny blue spark shot

  from her finger and hit the stone, breaking it open.

  “Whereas actually what lies beneath, is extraordinary,”

  she softly said as she removed her finger to show the

  stone broken open. A pink and lilac coloured geode

  was hidden inside. Harris sat with his mouth gaping

  towards her, astounded. “Ha,” she huffed, surprised to

  see the colour she had revealed. “I chose this for you,

  it’s the stone of love, and loss.” Her brow began to

  crinkle in the centre. “It’s not often you get the two

  together,” she softly said. She looked to him filled with

  wonder.

  Harris kept his mouth gaping, he mumbled, “No.”

  Librye narrowed her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you,”

  he softly said as he dropped his look of amazement.

  Librye held her stare. “I’m not saying a word.”

  “You think of her daily, she’s all you think of, you

  have changed, Harris.”

  “Librye, please stop,” asked Harris as he pinched

  the top of his nose and squinted his eyes.

  “You’ve been absent from the taverns,” she

  continued, “that’s where you’re known, it’s part of who

  you are, or who you used to be.”

  “Librye,” warned Harris with a deep tone as he

  looked to her wide eyed, “stop.”

  Librye did not stop, her filter, was off. “I see you

  every day, Harris, you’re always in two places…”

  “Stop!” he shouted as he stood. Immediately he

  turned to Librye, noticing he had made her jump,

  “apologies,” he begged as he leant down towards her,

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just can’t do this now,

  I can never do this.” He placed his hand on her

  shoulder, Librye’s mouth began to drop, her eyes

  widened. She felt it, she felt every drop of his pain, but

  she was not as hardened as he was, a tear began to fall

  from her eye, trailing down her cheek. “Librye,

  please,” begged Harris as he held her close. Believing

  he had frightened her into crying.

  “No,” said Librye, her voice was soft and filled

  with sympathy, “I know you love her now,” she softly

  said. Harris held her shoulders and leant her back to

  look into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” she sorrowfully

  said, “sometimes, I just feel people, what they feel. I

  felt it, Harris, it tore you open, the day you had to

  leave her, that’s why you left.”

  Again, Harris was astounded. “It’s not something I

  ever want you to worry about,” he firmly said to her,

  “Librye, this is my burden, it is not for you to bear.”

  Librye’s eyes filled with sorrow and flooded with

  tears. “How do you go on? knowing, what you know?”

  Harris dropped his head, he sat back on the

  marble seat, Librye sat beside him, he gave a heavy

  sigh. “Your next lesson, Librye, the world isn’t always

  fair,” he softly said, “but we have to find ways to work

  around that.” She could sense his frustration, his anger

  with everything seemed to boil beyond anger, to

  defeat. “The world will provide more lessons than we

  often see fit to take in.” He sat forward with his elbows

  resting on his knees and looked back to her. “But one

  that we must always follow, is that we don’t always get

  our own way, I do love her, with every inch of my

  soul, I can’t bear the thought of being without her, but

  for now I love her as a friend, only.”

  “Branwen,” Librye softly said.

  Harris slowly nodded, she looked directly forward.

  “Yes, Branwen,” he admitted with a broken voice.

  “No,” said Librye as she pointed out towards the

  gardens. “It’s Branwen, over there.” Harris

  immediately looked up to see Branwen walking with

  purpose through the gardens and towards the wood.

  He stood as quickly as he could, his heart was racing,

  “she’s just as beautiful as my secrets said,” she softly

  said. Harris still panicked as he spun in the centre of

  the pagoda, not knowing what to say, not knowing

  what to do. “Harris,” said Librye with a questioning

  tone, “are you going or not?”

  “Yes,” he quickly staggered. “I’m going, I’m

  going,” he quickly said as he ran from the pagoda.

  Librye followed behind and slowed as she came

  towards the meadow path.

  Branwen saw Harris shoot from the woodland, her

  smile lit the world as she saw him. Her soft pink dress

  cascaded around her, shaping her perfectly, a radiant

  glow to her face shone as she walked towards him,

  every part of him was on fire with a wanting need to

  reach out to her.

  “Harris!” she called as she b
egan to run towards

  him. She held her pink silk dress so as not to trip. As

  she met him at the end of the path, they both froze. “I

  missed you,” she softly said.

  Harris could still feel his heart racing, his hands

  were shaking as he stared towards her. “I’ve missed

  you too. How are you feeling now?”

  She could feel how awkward it seemed for them

  both, they had been through so much together, yet it

  was like the first-time meeting. Branwen was blunt with

  Harris as she asked, “Why is this so awkward?”

  Harris shook his head; he widened his eyes and

  gave a slight laugh. “I don’t know.” His mouth curled

  down to a look of unsurety. “Perhaps, because we’re

  different now? Marrion, what it was for us, was a

  dream, this is reality, as depressing as that may be, I’ve

  never been so happy to see someone,” he seemed to

  struggle to catch his breath, he could not hold back

  any longer as he threw his arms around her and pulled

  her in for a warm embrace.

  He held her around the shoulder as he began to

  walk back towards the woodland, where Librye still

  stood on the path. “Why are you here?” he asked as

  they came towards the woods.

  “My mother, she wants eyes in Cronnin, for now

  that will be me, the council have allowed it, for now I

  am an honorary member,” she said with a proud wave

  of her head, “I’ll take a seat beside Brenin,

  representing Sonnin.”

  Harris seemed impressed, but he had more

  important matters for Branwen. “You remember me

  telling you about Librye?” Branwen nodded, she

  looked forward to meeting her, given how highly her

  mother had spoken of her. Harris stopped and stood

  in front of her. “I need you to meet her,” he excitedly

  said, “but one warning,” he held a low, quiet tone,

  “don’t speak to her as a child, talk to her as you would

  me, or Brenin or your mother even.”

  Branwen twisted her eyes to look behind him

  where she could see Librye stood on the edge of the

  lane to the wood. “I’m sure I’ll cope,” she softly

  replied. Harris allowed her to walk on, while he trailed

  behind.

  Harris listened to Librye and Branwen talk, they

  spent the afternoon talking of Marrion, Branwen’s

  work there was something she was proud of and it

  showed. Librye told her all she could remember of the

  camps where she once lived and of the palace where

  she now resided. For hours they talked of their likes

  and dislikes, Librye soon realised that she and

  Branwen had a lot in common. The one thing that the

  two clearly did share was their love of Harris. His

  childlike excitement was clear as he watched the two

  most important women in his life enjoying each

  other’s company. As the skies began to dull, he knew

  he would need to return soon, but he had enjoyed the

  day beyond belief.

  The palace kitchens were filled with life as Harris

  stepped in from the empty main hall. Gethen was busy

  preparing for the next day, his under cooks worked as

  hard as they could helping, even the laundry staff

  worked over-time as the grey skies began to gather, a

  threat of rain would force them to dry their washing

  indoors.

  “I see Branwen has settled in well,” said Bella, as

  she saw Harris step into the kitchens.

  “Of course she has,” said Harris with a crinkled

  brow, “she’s from a palace, not that hard to settle.” He

  sat at the stool near Gethen’s bench.

  “Is that why you settled so fast?” asked Leon, a

  stable hand from the front stables.

  “No,” grumbled Harris, “how’s Svend by the way?

  I’ve not been out in too long.”

  “Kicking up a storm,” huffed Leon, “his boy is

  trying to do what he can, he said that the harp calms

  him, strange boy,” he walked from the back porch.

  Harris laughed.

  “What brings you here?” asked Gethen.

  “Curiosity,” replied Harris with a high tone. He

  took an apple from the table in front, with a dagger

  from his boot he began to slice it. “I came here,

  wondering what the news of today is.”

  Gethen continued kneading his dough. “Same as

  always, although,” he turned and stopped working, “I

  hear talk of a proposal,” he said with a low tone.

  Harris gave a quick furrow of his brow.

  “Proposal?”

  Gethen turned in closer. “Branwen,” he

  whispered, “I’ve heard talk that Brenin might be on

  the cards for her, Harelda always has a plan,” he said

  with a high-pitched whisper.

  “Branwen?” asked Harris, he gave a laugh as he

  sliced another piece of apple, “he’s far too old for her,

  he would never go for it.” His tone of doubt seemed

  to spill into the kitchen.

  “I think he would,” said Bethany as she stopped.

  “How did you even hear that?” asked Harris with

  wide eyes towards her.

  “We hear everything,” she laughed, she came

  closer towards him, “I heard, that Brenin want’s a

  young wife, who can continue his work when he is

  gone, someone he can trust, who better than Sonnin?”

  she asked as she shrugged.

  “Branwen is a child compared to Brenin,” argued

  Harris, “it’s preposterous.”

  “I may be sensing some jealousy?” said Bethany in

  a high tone, questioning the rumours.

  “I’m jealous of no one,” laughed Harris, his eyes

  widened towards her as she turned, he could not help

  but give a quick slap to her behind, which caused a

  strange squeal from her.

  “I hear that rumours will get you nowhere in this

  place,” came the warning rumble of Mord as she stood

  by the door. She walked further into the kitchen.

  “Harris, you’re needed in the chambers.” Mord

  turned and quickly left towards the main hall.

  “Tomorrow then,” smiled Harris as he placed his

  apple down, “duty calls.” Gethen laughed as he left, he

  knew that most of the rumours throughout the palace

  were true.

  As Harris stepped into the smoke-filled office, he

  could tell something had been bothering Brenin. Sat

  by his desk, Brenin glared to the desk in front, now

  almost void of papers, most sat on Harris’s desk.

  “You called for me?” asked Harris with a gleeful

  tone as he stepped inside.

  He quickly walked to his chair at the front of

  Brenin’s desk and lumped down. Brenin broke his

  glare and looked to Harris. His mouth was still gaping.

  “I’m going to ask Branwen for her hand,” he softly

  said, “I have no other choice.”

  Harris felt every part of his body spike with dread,

  the very thought sickened him. “She’s more than half

  your age,” he replied with a high tone of disapproval,

  “how much have you thought about this?”

  Brenin li
fted his head, he looked directly towards

  Harris. He gave a slight shake of his head as he

  replied, “It wasn’t my idea.” Harris narrowed the

  bottom of his eyes. “It was hers.” A pelt of

  disappointment hit Harris. He could not show his

  emotion. “This afternoon, we sat and talked, she

  suggested a union, at first I couldn’t go ahead with it,

  but the more I thought, the less I could argue, it

  makes complete sense.” His voice was soft, he seemed

  defeated.

  “Brenin,” said Harris as he stood, he seemed to

  plead with him, “think about this,” he raised his arms

  as he insisted, “for fuck sake, think about who your

  mother-in-law would be!” The guards on the doors

  gave an audible laugh. “I can’t think of anything more

  awful!”

  “Why are you so against this?” asked Brenin,

  startled at Harris’s reaction.

  “Because you’re twice her senior, plus, it would

  give Harelda a hand in palace affairs, Sonnin are well

  known to have a power problem.”

  “You know Branwen,” sighed Brenin, “Harelda, I

  have known all my life, she is not one for Cronnin to

  fear, she wishes to strengthen Cronnin and Sonnin,

  Harris, I asked you here, not for your blessing, simply

  to let you know, I know the two of you are friends,

  your influence will help in this,” he slowly sat forward.

  “I’m not going to convince her of anything, if it’s

  her idea then her mind is made up, trust me, what that

  woman wants, that woman gets,” he said with a slow

  nod. Harris walked to the drink’s cabinet, he poured

  two glasses, before he turned, he drank them both and

  poured them again. He walked back towards the desk.

  He thought as quickly as he could, but he could think

  of no reason why they should not be married, apart

  from his own needs. “Congratulations,” said Harris as

  he gave a glass to Brenin, “I feel like this could be

  quite entertaining,” he said with a wide smile.

  “Thank you, Harris,” grumbled Brenin, “besides, I

  don’t look that bad for my age,” he said with a slight

  pout.

  Harris laughed, “you’re right there, in fact, I can’t

  see why Branwen wouldn’t want to.” His eyes seemed

  to drift about the room, he was good at hiding his

  feelings, excellent in fact, but this was something he