FicWad

I closed my eyes against the impact and squashed myself into a tight ball so that I could support at least a few of my bones against the actual landing.
But the impact didn't come.
Instead, there was what felt like very large arms resting under me. I thought I heard a little whoosh of breath from...a man? I risked opening my eyes a crack then screamed.
It was indeed a man who had caught me. He seemed to be having a little trouble regaining his balance, but that was not what had startled me the most. On his head, jangling with tiny bells was the jester's hat that should be hanging in my closet/library at home.
His lip curled and in a single deft movement, he rolled me out of his grasp, cutting any sound or question I might have had into a sort of strangled gurgle. Talk about rude! I coughed and wheezed a little like you always do when you swallow spit just the wrong way. How aggravating.
I glared at him. He didn't seem at all perturbed by it though. He raised an eyebrow and looked over me with intense-but completely disinterested-eyes...and then his lip curled. Gee thanks, bub.
To describe the jester I 'd have to say his face was a bit too small for handsomeness- I may disagree now- his eyes were narrow and dark, intense enough to make you believe he always knew what you were thinking. His jaw was perhaps a little too square. Little bits of hair were sticking out from under his hat and I could see it behind his head. It wasn't overly long, maybe an inch.
As he stood there, his gaze quickly shifted from me to something above me. I opened my mouth but just as I was about to speak, what should he do? He bowed to whoever it was and turned on one fabric covered foot, quickly marching out of sight. Fine, let him go. I didn't care if I didn't ever see him again. Then I saw the people.
Several of the women were wearing horns shrouded in a sort of gauzy material of different colors. Some of then had their heads squared off with flat floppy little disk things. Still others were wearing outrageous hats that ended in two humongous flaps of material on either side of them. The men seemed to be in favor of waistlines that fell below the waist and on some of them, there was none whatsoever to speak of.
Meanwhile a stench I could not name was attacking my nostrils with a vengeance. Don't ask me why, what my nostrils ever did to the smell, I have no idea. It was a sort of combination of heady perfume and sweat mingled with old blood. There was also the overpowering scent of bacon and grease, with the undercurrent of what I had imagined carrion to smell like.
I managed the-distant-cousin-twice-removed-on-the-mother's-side-related-through-marriage-to-a-smile, before saying, "Uh...hello there."
"Who is she?"
"Where did she come from?"
"Did the clown know of her coming?"
"She is excessively hairy."
"Where did she get those distasteful rags?"
"She isn't very pretty, is she?"
The last comment was spoken by a woman, and though I couldn't be sure just who said it I felt a nasty retort trying to overcome my good-judgment.
At that moment, a man pushed through. He wore a robe of deep green that had a split from one shoulder out of which a black boot protruded. A gold chain swept from shoulder to shoulder, but this was not the most striking feature of this man. His face seemed to have been modeled after a dehydrated apple. Almost as if there was a hole in the middle of his face and all of his features were being slowly sucked into it. He had thin lips and a nose that resembled a potato. His eyes squinted at me out of nearly non-existent eyebrows. He was extremely fat, the swath of fabric drifting from shoulder to ground did nothing to hide the bulge of his stomach, if anything it accentuated it.
"Who are you?" he asked slowly, and it wasn't until that moment that I realized they had been speaking a form of German.
At first I did not respond, his face was so...unattractive, I found it was hard to look at for too long.
"Who are you?" he asked again.
I pushed myself up so I could stand, but my knees threatened to give away under me and my arms flew to one side as I tried to keep balance. I felt like a humiliated hula dancer.
"My friends should be here somewhere, but if you don't mind, first of all, where am I?"
He drew back as he discovered that I was slightly taller than he was and he was most definitely the tallest person left in the room.
Hastily I realized that I had spoken in English. Apparently, it was a language they had never heard before.
"Where am I?" I translated carefully trying to draw my research out of its long years of dormancy.
The man raised his chin a little, "Your accent is strange and I am unfamiliar with your colors. Pray, what is it you want? And how is it that you are come?" He waved his hand toward the ceiling.
I followed the gesture with my eyes to see a white-washed, arched ceiling supported by dark wooden buttresses.
I puffed out my cheeks in a sort of lost expression, I must admit I was completely at a loss of what was going on. Like a story I read once, I took the approach of a main character: when in doubt, be ridiculous! These people seemed to be taking such an approach very seriously.
"I do beg your pardon," I made a deep sarcastic bow, "I seemed to have come at an inopportune moment. I beg your forgiveness, sir."
He stood up a little straighter. "I give it freely," he waved his hand condescendingly, "Now what I ask is your title?"
Trying to find a fitting response, I looked around the room and seeing the costumes, a ridiculous idea came into my head. My surroundings were medieval, and my clothes were not at all. But maybe...
"I am naught but a humble page, sir, my company rides at my back. "
"What a female page? Why is this about? What is your company?"
"I-I can not say." I looked around sheepishly, "I have been sworn. I can only tell you my name, Elene, Elene of..." I prayed fervently that I could come up with something plausible to play along with their game. "Chicago."
"Strange I have never heard of it," the man stroked his chin, "but Lady Elene, you amuse me with your strange accent and with your method of speech. Pray stay until your master arrives." He nodded to someone behind me. Wait a minute, What just happened?
I was too busy thinking to answer. I was in the ally, like, two minutes ago. I looked around the room. Huge wooden buttresses arched above me. Gigantic windows filtered in the pale light of what? Early spring or late winter? It was like May just a few minutes ago.
Where did these people come from? Where was I?!
A short woman with large honey colored eyes appeared at my shoulder and smiled sweetly at me. I had seen her before. The woman from the bus! Her teeth were a pale shade of brown and were curiously small. She had to be in her early forties. Her head was shrouded in a white clothe that fell just an inch or so above her eyebrows. She wore a blue robe that signified servitude.
I looked around the room for any form of aide. Women whispered and giggled behind fans held by hands that looked like they were made out of paper. I looked at the men, they grinned showing disgusting mouths and winked at me secretively. I gagged at them, they didn't catch my meaning.
"Come milady," the maid tugged on my arm, "We can not waste much time."
I looked helplessly at the people one more time before letting the woman drag me from the room.
*
The woman, despite her size was a power walker. She talked as she wove through all the passages and I could barely understand her and keep up with her at the same time. I am no multi-tasker.
"He likes you very much, yes I do believe so, You are a page. I am glad I now can serve someone I can talk to. Those court women can be quite snobbish, hypocritical. I do not mean to sound so, but when you are used to helping women bear children their men take little notice of, you find these women rather cumbersome. If they were having children as often as they fretted over frocks and ribbons they would be different.
"Oh silly me how could I have been so careless. I am called Lillian, but you may refer to me in any way you choose. That is the approach many people take.
"Please tell me, how is it that you are come? You know how news travels among the workers in a castle, some say you fell from the sky which is utterly ridiculous as it is the middle of the frozen season and you fell in to the arms of the clown. He himself would say nothing of it, Ananias is very closemouthed about such matters. But he like the rest of us does what he must to earn his keep. I know his Highness is excessively fond of a fair bit of entertainment, and Ananias knows how to entertain.
"Ah, here we are!"
She held open a door, and I- somewhat out of breath- looked into it.
The only word that came to mind when I saw it was loud.
A huge bed made entirely of wood seemed to have been raised out of the floor to a height I did not deem very comfortable. Four stairs had been built into the side and short gold colored curtains fell from the top of the box that seemed to have been what the bed was modeled after. A roundish chair sat next to a window and besides the short bench against one wall, those were the only furnishings in the room.
The walls were what struck me first and most likely the hardest. They had been carved with a very busy pattern of vines and the flowers produced there from.
There was a door that branched off into another room and after further investigation proved to be a sort of bathroom, only there was no sink and no toilet. In one corner, a chair with a hole weaved into the seat sat over a bucket. That-I realized after staring at it for a while- would be my toilet until I could figure out how to get away from here.
I turned around and saw a huge wooden basin that had been lined with what looked like very smooth towels.
"Is it to your taste?" the maid asked as she suddenly appeared in the doorway.
I puffed out my cheeks, "It's home sweet home, I guess," when the woman gave me a quizzical expression I realized I had said it in English.
"Very comfortable," I said hastily switching into German.
She gave me a funny sort of look before nodding and disappearing through the door.
*
I wandered around my room. My fingers examined the wall carvings in a vague and distracted sort of way. My eyes kept going to the window where snow had begun to fall again.
Finally, I went and stood at the casement, leaning on it I pressed my face to the glass.
"So it's true," I muttered, "I am back in the fourteenth century and not a thing to do-"
"I am afraid it is true," the voice was deep and strong with a strange some what savage accent. My arms grew goose pimples at the sound.
I whirled and saw the jester leaning casually in my doorway, "You speak English?" I said it hastily barely giving myself time.
I noticed that his hair was very dark. So black it showed blue when the light hit it at a certain angle. I blushed deeply out of embarrassment. He was taller than me, maybe three or four inches. I had to admit though, he was cute. He wasn't hot, but he was cute. His voice was a plus.
His eyes darted around my room, seemingly not noticing my change in face color, "a little," he took a step into the room.
I was about to say something, but I shut my mouth quickly. Why should I talk to him? He dropped me and I could remember the look on his face very well.
He took a step closer, an expression I could not read dancing in his dark eyes,
"What are you doing here anyway?" I tried to sound careless.
He reverted to German, "Shouldn't I be?" there was a smirk I didn't like.
"Here! I mean in this room, what are you doing here?"
"Merely to ascertain your intentions. Who is your Lord or Lady? Where is this- what was it?-Shay-cago?"
I narrowed my eyes, "Why do you want to know?"
"I am merely curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat!" I tried to sound triumphant, but I must say it is extremely difficult when your talking to a man you would call cute and when you have never really talked to one-attractive in any way, shape, or form, or no-before.
"In deed, but I am not a cat therefore I am unaffected."
I pursed my lips and looked around for something to throw at him. Anything to make him go away, my eye landed on one of the pillows, too soft, the chair? Too big, I couldn't get it far enough.
"May I suggest throwing," he took another step toward me, reading my thoughts with the clarity of a printed page, "this?" he brought out a book, "both light and aerodynamic, you would hit your target-which I presume is me- with the utmost of accuracy."
"Get OUT!" I ranted, "If all you are going to do is taunt me then GET OUT!" I pointed to the door, anger flaring in me.
"Thank you, milady," he bowed, "this discussion was...most enlightening."
I glared at him as he strode confidently out of the room, "I really do not like you," I said quietly at his back.
*
I was not about to stay in that room if I didn't have to. I wanted to find a way home, for goodness sake! I began to explore. The door seemed to be on a corner and because we had come strait into it, I decided not to take that route.
The castle as far as I could see was everything I could have hoped for in medieval architecture. Tapestries graced the walls with what looked like painful battle sequences. I followed them with out paying attention to where my feet went much like a person in a museum of exquisite art. I didn't take long to get myself lost. So I wondered, past doors and through corridors. The smell of torches and burning stuff made my gag reflex kick in, but I suppressed it. There was no telling when I would get a meal next.
"Ah, milady."
That was the first time I have ever heard a voice that truly fit the description of "gravelly." I stopped where I stood, not daring to turn around.
The man, whoever he was suppose to be, walked in front of me, turning and beginning to eye me closer then what he could have done in the room where I entered the scene. His eyes were traveling in a fashion that I found uncomfortable
He was a tall , about as tall as I was, which to describe a people of that time, is fairly impressive. His dark hair was long, but he had it tied back attractively from his face which- blasphemy though it may sound- was the most handsome face I had seen the whole day. Never in my life did I think I would think face fur was attractive, but on him, with a well trimmed goat-ee, I was convinced. He was probably in his thirties, but he had a distinguished appeal to his features.
I was in no mood however to put up with any such antics, "Can I help you?"
He smiled, my stomach went watery, "I am..."
"You- You've forgotten?"
He obligingly smiled with the faint hint of a laugh, "Honored to make your acquaintance."
"We aren't acquaintances until we know names, sir."
He smiled again, his smiles were secretive and mysterious. They held a faint tinge of something I did not like, reinforcing my dislike.
As he did not seem inclined to go further, so I made to pass him, but a swift arm blocked my path, "not so hasty if you please."
"If we are not going to have an intelligent conversation, I see no reason why my presence is required."
His dark eyes searched my face a moment, then he nodded shortly, "Forgive me, milady, I did not mean impudence, but I expected..."
"What did you expect?"
"A page to be more, shall we say, inclined to conversation?"
"I am inclined to conversation, as you put it, but not with a person who is not interested in saying anything meaningful."
"Touché" He nodded slightly, "my intention was nothing if not meaningful; perhaps I spoke out of turn." He bowed slightly, a strange twitching smile on his lips.
His arm moved and I was free to go.
I took the opportunity.
I felt his eyes on me as I walked past him, but I refused to give him any inclination that I was interested. Interested he was, that much I could tell.
*
It took a while but I eventually found my way to an archive or library, It was vacant, lucky for me.
It was almost perfectly square. The walls were nearly completely covered in shelves mounted by reams of aged paper sown together. No titles, but manuscripts none the less.
I pulled one off the shelf, not exactly the largest of them, but one of fairly good size. The writing was elaborately done with a lot of curls and angles. A careful bit of ivy grew up one side and spiraled toward what I took to be a title. It looked interesting enough.
I didn't know who had seen me come into the room, so I did not want to stay. And I can tell you it took me a fair while to find my way back to my chamber.
When I arrived, a fine reception was waiting for me. Lillian was there, a beaming smile on her face. A little hunchbacked man, who had he been straight, might have been very tall. There were several bits of expensive looking fabrics in all colors. all very beautiful.
"Oh you are lucky, very lucky, three orders for fine attire, and these...things shall have to go."
"What things?"
She blinked. I hastily translated.
"Your attire at present!"
The little hunchback was choosing colors from the vast array of fabrics and holding them up to my face.
"Otto, please make haste, I am sure the lady is hungry."
"Wait, wait a minute," I thought of the best way to put it, "If I am naught but a page, why am I getting new clothes? Why all this attention?" Not to mention I only had arrived that day, I wasn't used to being noticed
Otto and Lillian looked at me like I had just come out of a flying saucer. Then they both began to laugh. I stood there completely at a loss with a drape of beautiful dark purple velvet over one shoulder and a line of pure white satin over one arm.
Lillian slowly got around to explaining, "His highness has found you amusing, could you not tell? He means to give you what you lack, and as you seem to have come without proper clothing, He means to supply-"
"Wait-" I interrupted, "His highness?"
"Yes! Of course, Prince Fredrick, in line for the throne over the whole kingdom-"
"But I never met any... any prince- "
"Oh, but you did, whose home do you think you are inhabiting this minute?"
"I didn't-OW!" Otto had just stuck me with a pin.
Lillian was not hindered, "Also, the honorable Lord Simon Wilhelm has ordered proper attire for you. He saw you arrive you know and I think he was rather smitten. I believe wooing is in his mind. Oh, and another that was anonymous."
My eyebrows went up.
Otto, the little hunchback, was clucking as he took my measurements with a glance.
"Otto if you're done..."
"Aye," he nodded, "That'll do for now. " I almost made an audible sound. His voice was extremely deep and masculine. It rang pleasantly on the ears.
Lillian helped him gather his fabric into a series of boxes and assisted in his carrying them away, with a promise to return with dinner.
For the moment, I was alone. I mused as I went to the window at how strange life could be. If my friends were here then they were taking their time in revealing themselves, but I had a sickening feeling that I was all alone.
I went to the bed and drew back the short curtain before flopping facedown on the mattress. It was a mistake. The mattress was thin and lightly stuffed, small protection against the wood below. I rolled over onto my back with a groan and closed my eyes.
"Frustration," I said out loud, "thy name is the fourteenth century."
"Actually, I heard it said once that frustration is an emotion created by oneself thus making it impossible for it to be something so abstract as a time. If that is too difficult, I'm sure I could explain it well enough for your mind to follow." I knew that accent. I opened my eyes and sat up. The Jester, now in slightly different attire and missing his hat, was sitting cross-legged and at his ease in the chair by the window.
"What?"
He stroked his clean shaven chin as if he hadn't realized I was there, "Or perhaps I said it. I've been told I am rather wise."
"What told you that? A fortune cookie in a cracker jack box?" I snarled, I never was very good at coming up with snappy comebacks, but he somehow made it more difficult, "leave me alone." I looked decidedly out the window, but not before I saw his eyebrows go together.
"You are a piece, aren't you?" he smiled.
"And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" I shot him a cocked glare.
He merely continued smiling as he studied me. His look made me uncomfortable, so I shifted my position, facing away from him.
"Why do you have to keep bugging me, anyway?" I said after a long, awkward pause.
"Perhaps because I have a certain-"
"Ananias, have you no sense? You know the Prince would be apt to a cruel punishment if you were found in here." Lillian had entered with a tray on her arm. The smell of plain bread and soup made my mouth water.
"Ah, Lillian, do not worry your pretty head." I felt as though his eyes darted to me, but I couldn't be sure and I am usually wrong when it comes to things like that, He continued, "Your plain charge was not being disturbed by me. We've met before and have had several...enlightening conversations."
When? I wanted to ask, I didn't remember any "enlightening conversations!" Lillian put a hand on her hip, "Just the same, you oughtn't be in here. His highness wants your entertainment besides."
He stood up. He made an elaborate bow to me that was stiff with sarcasm. Then he kissed Lillian on the cheek and she giggled. I felt my face change. She was way too old for him, he was a better age for...I would rather have not said it.
After the clown had departed, Lillian looked at me with a wry smile.
"My," she said, her dimple deepening as she deposited the tray by my hip, "You certainly are a favorite among the high! Prince Wilhelm and now his cousin, the Honorable Josef von Clausewitz!"
I felt my face go blank, "The honorable who?"
Lillian smiled, "you'll find that out soon enough, now what do you think of your room? I don't much think I care for it, but it is quite a favorite among the higher of society. But then you know their tastes-"
"Lillian," I cut her off before she could break into a speech, "why, if I've only been here for a few short hours, should people already be choosing me?"
She looked confused, "Ah, me, " she said, "we shall have to work on that."
"What?"
She shook her head, and I realized I had been talking in English. I hastily translated.
"I don't understand your meaning."
"I mean, men are already interested in me, how can that be? I've only been here for not even a day and already men plan to woo me? I just don't understand."
Lillian smiled understandingly, "I see," she began to set out the bread and soup on a little table I had not noticed before, "You don't think your pretty enough, now don't worry, the women of the court were just jealous. They all had to work at getting noticed, but you on the other hand, once we dispose of...your present attire you will have men wooing you by the hundreds!"
I sighed, she didn't "see" at all.
She kept on going, "Otto is a very skilled tailor, he made Ananias' costume, and it works very well for its designed purposes, do you not think so? He will make you a dress very pretty. Though you are unusually tall and your waist is somewhat smaller than our other women, but he will know how to make it look appealing. So you needn't worry. I do believe that when you get your first dress, the Prince himself will want to introduce you to the court. Now won't that be a privilege? I do think he has taken it into his head to do so. I do believe he likes you very much, very much indeed. Oh good heavens listen to me, but you know...there are not very many women who can boast of so angelic a face." she patted my cheek, "So do not worry, when the dress is ready we shall see what we can do with your hair and then what a sight you will be!" she giggled, "I can hardly contain myself, but now I am sure you want to dine, so dine and soon, yes, very soon, you shall be a princess rather than a page!" she finished with a triumphant wave of her hand before disappearing through the door.
Though somewhat heartened by her speech, I felt a certain dread. Ah, me, how was I to survive? As far as I knew, I had three men vying for my hand in marriage. Back home I wasn't even a legal adult yet. Listen to me, back home, good grief.
I took to my soup, which had the texture of oatmeal, but tasted of meat and onions. The bread was a bit course and had been poured over with melted fat. Poor substitute for butter, but with a little nose plugging, I swallowed it, vowing to eat no more bread until I was home unless they could produce some sort of butter.