Demeter Part Three

Demeter - Part Three

"A fine show indeed! Blast you, dear girl, how could you have allowed for such a thing to happen? I'll be dead before I let you serve the tables again. Now hold still! This stain won't come out so easily."

"I didn't mean to disrupt," Demeter spoke quietly, cringing at every move the fussy Jennyanydots made as the elderly female moved about the kitchen, back and forth from where Demeter sat dejectedly on a table. After the frantic business of breakfast had passed, the kitchen now law empty and silent save for the two sole occupants and an occasional drip of water. Plates, pots, pans, dishes, bowls, cups, and a myriad of utensils were piled high in every available sink for washing. On every counter the leftover food sat neglected and spoiling on cutting boards or in mixing bowls, the buzz of flies already beginning to gather. Demeter grimaced at the sight of it, but not so much as to Jennyanydots's harsh words.

"I care not if it was an accident, girl," the elder went on to say as she scrubbed at the front of Demeter's dress with a brush and hot, soapy water. "I've got half a mind to make you wash this entire kitchen by yourself before the other workers get back from their own meals." Frustrated by the material's stubbornness, the homely-colored old woman threw down her brush and soap with a growl, sitting back on her haunches. "Oh drat! I shall never get this wine stain out!" Pressing one hand to her forehead with her eyes closed, Jenny sighed in a desperate grab for patience, and when her gaze returned she saw only Demeter hunching down, as shameful as ever.

"Now, now," Jennyanydots purred much more quietly as she stood up, brushing down the material of her own simple brown dress and apron. Smiling gently she took up a seat beside the young girl on the table, gently setting one arm about Demeter's shoulders. Despite her sniffling tears Demeter leaned into the warmth and softness of the older queen's side, curling up as any child would to their mother. "I don't mean to be harsh, Demeter. I only look out for your well-being. When your parents died the last promise I made them, bless their souls, was to look after you. No royal family in all the world wants a clumsy servant to wait on them." She set a gentle hand on Demeter's knee, and the girl's wide green eyes looked up in silent hope. "Now go get out of that dress and I'll see what I can do with it. You shall be relieved of your duties the rest of the day, Demeter."

"So I can go back to the woods?" Demeter whimpered hopefully. Jennyanydots laughed.

"Hardly! My dear girl, you are staying in your quarters until I see it fit for you to venture out."

In her own mind Demeter would have rather faced the ridicule of going back to the tables to serve after her disruption than facing the boredom of being shut up in her small room the rest of the day. Sitting on her small bed and once again clad in her more comfortable servant's rags, the young gold-furred queen sighed longingly as she gazed out the small window near the top of the far wall making up the outside barrier of the dwelling. Just barely able to see the inside of the castle grounds through it bathed in the late morning sunlight, she thought of Plato and what he was doing at that moment. Probably running with his unicorns, as wild and free as any creature of the forest. If only he could be here to keep her company, or better yet: if she could be out there with him, exploring the wonders of the wilderness and surrounded in its natural beauty. What she would have given to be anywhere but here...

Leaning back on her bed with a sigh of defeat, Demeter stretched out on top of the blankets, folding her hands across her middle and closing her eyes as she let her mind wander. It found its way back to the breakfast meal of the royal family, but in no way did Demeter remind herself of her misconduct. Instead, she remembered Prince Munkustrap and how he had been there to help her. Her, a slowly servant, had caught the attention of a prince of Jukard. How handsome he was, now that Demeter thought back with a smile: perfectly groomed fur of silver and black, dashing and strong features, deep golden eyes...and to add to all that the prince had a kind heart. If only she could have spoken to him properly instead of stuttering like she had. But his eyes lingered in her mind, their sincerity and gold color...how many servants in Jukard could boast that they had seen the color of Munkustrap's eyes so close?

Demeter only hoped that the fine prince would give that Pollicle General a rightful telling-off before they left. The General wasn't as important as the Ambassador, so Demeter figured in her simple mind that it wouldn't truly be the black dog's opinion that mattered once they returned to Canin. Something frightened her terribly about the General. There was a look in his eyes that was never one of kind intent. She would be glad when the Pollicles had gone. On the other hand, the Ambassador seemed to disapprove of the General, and that alone justified his existence in her opinion. If peace was what they were truly here for, she prayed silently that everything would work out. She didn't want to have to worry about war when her biggest concern then was getting through today without going mad with boredom. It was thoughts such as these that filled Demeter's head as she drifted off to sleep without her knowing it. The day and its events passed on around her, entirely oblivious.

When Demeter woke she had forgotten where she was. Sitting up with a sharp gasp, her eyes darted over the room frantically. Where was the light? Why was it so dark? Holding her breath, her body went rigid as she listened, eyes darting through the darkness. It took her a moment - a long, tense moment in which she didn't dare draw breath - until finally she heard the chirp of crickets outside, the gentle breathing of her roommate across the small space, the muffled voices of those still awake beyond the room's doorway. Her hands gripped the soft homespun blankets gathered around her, and her eyes adjusted with the moonlight pouring in through the small barred window. Laughing quietly to herself at her own foolishness, she flopped back down onto the bed's mattress, letting her feet kick up in the air for the sheer fun of it. She must have slept all afternoon. It seemed an odd thing to Demeter as most Jellicles constantly commented on her limitless energy. It was testified to by a low growling of her stomach. Sliding up and out of bed, Demeter thought nothing of sneaking out for a quick nighttime snack from whatever was left in the kitchens. She would have to keep an extra eye out for Jennyanydots, who would no doubt still be fussing away at this hour.

On silent feet Demeter padded down the long stone hallways and staircases towards the kitchen, one hand trailing along the uneven walls for guidance as most of the torches hanging in their wall holders had been put out by then. Exactly what hour it was, Demeter didn't know. She found the kitchen to her utmost relief to be empty. Lifting up her skirt, she moved carefully through the darkness, poking at the remaining embers beneath one of the stove fires enough to light a torch and hang it above a counter so she could search for scraps along the counters and walls. Unable to hold back a squeal of delight when she spotted an entire loaf of nut bread sitting untouched upon a cutting board, the young girl dashed towards it, hopping up onto the kitchen counter to take up a knife, cutting slice after slice of bread and smearing it over with a variety of butter, jam, honey, and preserve as she could find it. The loaf was half gone before her craving was satisfied.

Licking crumbs and lingering taste from her whiskers, Demeter hummed happily to herself as she climbed down, wiping off her hands upon her skirt. The torch had nearly gone out, but the servant girl didn't mind. The sky outside was clear of clouds, allowing a great deal of the near-full moon to pour down its light on all of Castle Jukard, the city of Pawprin, and its surrounding countryside. Hoping to catch a fine view of the nightscape when she washed up before heading back to bed, Demeter kept her gaze focused upward as she slipped out the small kitchen doorway that had been conveniently built beside one of the castle's water pumps. Splashing cold, fresh-smelling water upon her face and hands, taking a cool drink, Demeter smiled as he looked up, drying her fur with the sleeves of her ragged dress. Such a beautiful night...and so bright. If she were allowed, Demeter would have loved to venture into the woods to find Plato that very moment. She had never seen the Pawprin Forest at night before.

At first she thought nothing of it, passing it off as a trick of her eyes in the moonlight, but when Demeter heard sounds that accompanied the dense shadow she saw appear from one of the higher-level doorways in the castle walls - directly in her path of vision as she gazed up. Freezing in her tracks, the young girl stared, listened, as the shadow which was indeed no trick of the moonlight, climbed down the long stairway with an animalistic stealth, leaping down to ground level with the silence of the night itself. Crouching down in her dark, concealing corner, Demeter forgot all else as she watched the shadow cross the flat grounds of the castle towards the outer walls, grumbling something in its throat the entire way. The scent that accompanied it was not that of a Jellicle...but a Pollicle.

Curiosity peaked beyond what was bearable, Demeter stole away to follow it.

It was the manner in which the Pollicle moved that drew such curious suspicion from the young girl. Guests at the castle were free to come and go as they pleased, so there was no need for a Pollicle staying here to sneak out under the cover of dark, intentionally avoiding the eyes of the wall guards that were turned outward to the wilderness rather than inward at the castle, and slip through the small orchard door that lay usually securely locked at night at the foot of the wall furthest from the castle itself. Demeter followed step for step, biting her lip in nervousness as the dull clank of the guards' footsteps along the wall filtered down to her ears. She was surprised how easy it seemed for both her and the Pollicle shadow to slip out. But then again, the guards were only doing they job. They had to keep things out...not in.

Once outside the castle wall the Pollicle shadow had little trouble sneaking away. By the moon's position, the part of the wall it escaped through cast a long shadow on the ground; a shadow that another black shadow could stalk through virtually unseen until it reached the protective cover of the orchard and woods beyond. Demeter herself almost lost the Pollicle figure in the darkness and was forced to resort to the primitive form of tracking by scent to find her way again. By then, they were already in the orchard.

It was only then that Demeter began to feel the first hints of fear creeping into her young mind. It seemed surprising that only now she would begin to feel afraid: only now when she was in the darkness of the fruit orchard beyond the castle walls. The small, petite trees were planted years ago by the castle's builders in long, straight rows. Like a line of cage bars they reached just above Demeter's ears, still and silent in the absence of any wind. Creeping along below their stiff, short branches covered in leaves and heavy fruit in the warmth of the season, the young girl's feline eyes scanned the flat terrain. Not a sound. Not a movement. The shadows of the trees stretched long beneath the moonlight, Demeter trailing one hand along the smooth bark of each one she passed. The orchard was so large...she could remember the last year's harvest when she had been called out to help for the first time. She had to stand upon a ladder to see over the tops of the trees in order to find which way the castle was. The orchard was that big...and all directions identical.

Somewhere in the distance she heard a sound. Freezing in her tracks, Demeter's breath caught in her throat. Her eyed darted, pulse racing though she fed it no air. Slowly, feeling her very bones creak as though rusty hinges, she gazed all round her. Dark. Quiet. Nothing else. Finally remembering to breathe, the stale air left her lungs in a quick burst. She even found herself laughing to relieve the tension that had formed around her, as though the very air were pressing its hardest. Then she heard it again. This time there were voices.

"What are you doing here? You were supposed to come to the woods," growled a deep, throaty voice. Demeter dropped instinctively down onto her hands and knees, swiveling her ears forward towards the sound. The voice that answered was thin, reedy, like a harsh whisper...

"I was on my way. These blasted orchards always look the same."

"Let's get this over with, then. There's a storm blowing in."

"By all means...General Rawn is quite anxious."

Demeter jumped when suddenly overheard there was a rumble of thunder, and her eyes darting up to the moon she saw a testament to the hidden Pollicle's words as dark clouds were just now creeping over the horizon. Odd...it had seemed a perfect night only a moment ago.

"All the better," the throaty Pollicle voice growled. "The noise will cover your return."

It was then that the two shadows Demeter could barely make out against the darkness as she crept forward on all fours, wary of trodding upon her dress all the same, dropped into speaking in their own language: a series of barks, growls, yelps, and whines that made no sense save for a slight impression of their tone based upon the sounds made. Creeping up to lay down flat against a tree's mangled roots a fair distance away, Demeter held her breath as she watched, listening, as something passed between the two hunched figures. A small package. The snicker that accompanied the exchange sent chills down the young Jellicle's mind for all its wickedness and malicious sound. Yet it wasn't until she heard with utmost certainty the name muttered among their strange tongue shortly after the laugh that fear finally struck true.

"...Deuteronomy..."

Immediately she began backing away, as quickly as one could manage on the ground clad in a ragged dress, but not a full pace had been taken by her before something landed behind her with barely a sound just as thunder rang out over the night sky. Demeter drew the breath to cry out, but a hand covered her mouth. She tried to struggle away, but a larger body weight bore down upon her, preventing any and all movement. But even then, she herself froze when a flicker of lightening revealed the hunched Pollicles not a stone's throw away. Their dog-like features were turned her way, tail position and stance indicating a suspicion they were being watched. Demeter remained absolutely still despite her captor lingering where she could not see him, breathing heavily through her whiskers alone and heart pounding in her ears. By then clouds had covered the moon and she could barely see the tree trunks before her, her raspy breathing and racing heart blocking any other sound from reaching her ears. A few drops of rain fell onto her face.

"What was that?" the thin-voiced dog growling over the volley of sounds assaulting Demeter's senses.

"Nothing," replied the other. "Just the storm. Now get back. Quickly!"

"Why all this fuss?" the first complained, though footsteps among the thunder indicated he was leaving. "I'll never get to sleep tonight."

"Idiot! You think the Jellicles would let our guards walk into their own castle fully armed?"

"One never knows. The cats are not as intelligent as they fancy themselves."

Hideous laughter, then the two shadows parted. Footsteps padded off in opposite directions: one to the woods, the other back towards the castle. Only after they had gone did Demeter remember she was being held down, and began to struggle again, shouting protests against the hand covering her mouth. She felt her captor shift, leaning down, and a tingle ran down her side as a voice, feathery-soft, whispered in her ear: "Demeter..."

The hands released, and with a calmer air the young girl turned up to see. A flash of lightening and the tom's face was illuminated.

"Plato!"

It was indeed her friend, and without hesitance - simply overjoyed to see him in such an ordeal - Demeter threw her arms around his neck in rapturous embrace. Clenching her eyes shut, she squeezed as though a child to their most beloved possession. Plato did not return the gesture, but it did not matter to her. His presence alone was gesture enough. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I was so frightened! I didn't--"

Demeter drew back to gaze into his face and abruptly stopped. The gaze staring back at her was indeed that of her dearest companion, but he gazed at her in such a way she had never seen before. Perhaps it was the night, or an element of the storm, but something, some kind of glint in his eyes, spoke of nothing but predatorial fires. A dangerous knowledge. Those same kinds of things she had seen in the General's eyes. Frightened by the sight of him, she nevertheless threw herself to the ground when an enormous clap of thunder exploded overhead, looking up to him through her fingers with utter panic.

"Plato?" she gasped. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Friends upset," he growled deep in his chest, crouching low to the ground like the wild animal he resembled. "Something bad..." Thunder rumbled again, ever the more closer. Plato flattened his ears and hissed at it violently, his tail curling in an arc over his back.

Demeter curled up below him, covering her mouth as tears of fright crept into her eyes. Plato crouched over her protectively, one hand upon her shoulder, as lightening split the dark sky above. Stinging drops of rain fell onto Demeter's face, which she blinked against, biting her lip as from the very ground a tremble seemed to come. A tremble of warning, of danger.

"Dogs," Plato said again, lowering himself with no limit to his flexibility to meet her eyes on ground level. "Dogs want king dead."

"W-what?" the young girl stammered, pushing herself up as though to determine the truth of his broken words. For the grim seriousness not only in his eyes, but his voice and entire manner, there could be no mistake. How he knew such things when Demeter had only begun to suspect them herself, she did not question. "What are we going to do...?"

"Castle," he hissed, in the same movement rising up to his feet and drawing the young girl after him. "Quick."

"But how?" she protested, barely audible over the rain which began to fall, pummeling the ground and tree leaves among the background claps of thunder. "He must already be there by now. Plato!" She grabbed at the furs covering her friend's wiry figure as he began to turn away, her breath coming in ragged sobs for fear and desperation. "I'm scared..."

In a moment that was so heartfelt and tender Demeter once again forgot to breathe, Plato's arm found its way back to slip around her shoulders, his muzzle touching her forehead as his warm breath smelling of spice and golden apples calmed her senses. Demeter curled close into his warmth, yearning for that feeling of safety and protection that he alone could provide. "Courage," he whispered to her, and without releasing his comforting embrace the tom of the woods turned his face away and whistled, shrill and clear, three exact notes that the young female instantly recognized.

Once again proving the truthfulness of Plato's mysterious wonder, melting into view from the darkness like ghostly white phantoms came the very same pair of magnificent horses Demeter had last set eyes on only that morning, and yet it felt as though she'd not seen them but in her dreams...ages ago. The unicorns. As though parting the storm with their presence they trod up on golden hooves untouched by the pelting rain to where the two young Jellicles lingered, Demeter having to shield her eyes against the droplets to gaze up to their knowing black eyes. She could scarcely believe it. "Oh, Plato..."

Without a sound Plato reached up to grab hold of the stallion's shoulder, pulling his limber and lithe body up with incredible ease onto the creature's back who bucked and whinnied, but did not throw his rider. Demeter watched utterly dumbfounded as Plato leaned his head affectionately against the unicorn's strong neck, speaking soft words that she could not hear and stroking the fur white fur, longer than on any horse the girl had ever seen. At her side the mare stomped a hoof and snorted, nudging Demeter into action as she knelt down and offered her back. The young girl looked to Plato for guidance.

He said nothing. Only smiled and nodded. Fearful of touching such a beautiful and pure creature with her imperfect self, Demeter nevertheless bit her lip and reached out, laying a small golden hand upon the mare's back. The white horse's fur was soft as kitten down, warm and dry to the touch. The stallion tossed his head impatiently. Bracing herself as she had seen the soldiers of the castle do, Demeter hopped up onto the smaller unicorn's back, and once she had seated herself comfortably upon the creature she felt as high and mighty as the king himself. Unable to restrain a giggle Demeter smiled, leaning down against the mare's neck to hold on tight to her mane as Plato again whistled, and with the speed of a howling gale the two stark white unicorns galloped back towards the castle.

Few creatures in the living world are ever blessed with the chance to ride a unicorn. Demeter in her youthful innocence could only describe the sensation as the gift of flight. The creatures' hooves never seemed to touch the ground. It was as though they sped over it on a road of air, dancing on clouds. Even as short a ride as it was, she would never in her life forget that feeling of weightlessness, of the only true meaning of freedom that could be achieved. Too frightened to look up for the duration, when the liquid movements of the mare's muscles ceased to shift and move beneath her, the young girl looked up. Castle Jukard loomed dark and enormous in the stormy night, usually a morale-lifting sight of home after such a bleary night but now nothing short of foreboding as she knew what awaited them inside. A confrontation... Revealing the Pollicles for what they were. What if the General saw her again?

The unicorns kneeled to allow their riders access back to the damp ground. Demeter hung close to Plato's side as he again whistled to the horses, whose ears flicked forward in eager attention. When he had finished the stallion flicked his tail and nodded, a strange gesture to see from a horse. He turned to leave, but before the mare could follow Demeter on a sudden impulse reached forward, stroking the soft white whiskers of the unicorn's muzzle. "Thankyou," she whispered. The mare took a step back and tossed her head, whinnying in what sounded nothing short of merry laughter before she followed her mate back into the woods, vanishing finally into the darkness of night.

Plato and his unicorn...drawn by a friend of mine on a napkin while waiting at a restaurant.