Hidden Kingdom discussion

Forbidden by both sides of the kingdom.

Faran positioned himself underneath a tree with low branches, humming an old tune. One nice thing about taking up residence in a forbidden place: he didn't have to worry about others hearing him. The Captain had returned to the palace for one of his reports, and the men who stayed behind had grown too sick to pay any attention. He could probably make a fire to ward off the cold without anyone noticing, but all the wood he could see was soaked with snow.

Owena adjusted her pack's strap on her shoulder and carefully walked through the blanket of snow covering the forest floor. She had no reason to be in the Forbidden Woods; no one did. However, she had never been one to deny her more adventurous side and this day she had without work was the perfect opportunity to explore. A small smile graced her lips as she sidestepped a tree and her green eyes found her favourite part of the woods.

The tree stood at least five feet shorter than the tallest trees, as thick as three. It was a beautiful sight, mysterious and strong. It hadn't changed in all the years since Owena had first found it. The constancy was refreshing in this time of unrest.

((Yay! He's not alone!))

Faran flinched at the sound of footsteps. Who's there? he thought, too worried to speak the words aloud. He shivered in the chill air, trying not to let his teeth chatter.

((I wasn't sure how to start. :P))

Owena set her pack down as she reached the tree, not bothering to check the opposite side of the tree. She had never, in all her forbidden romps, come across another human soul. She assumed there were others curious enough, brave enough, scared enough to enter the trees, but she had never witnessed it. She wasn't sure she wanted to. The woods were her refuge. The bark of the tree was icy, her hand stung with cold when shr pressed her palm against it, whispering quiet words to it as if it would listen, "Hullo again."

((Understandable.))

That voice was the only incentive Faran needed. "Who's there?" he cried in a harsh whisper, drawing his sword and stepping away from the tree into open view. The smallest part of him hoped he would not have to fight; even with gloves on, the icy air made his grip shaky at best. He probably looked like a coward.

Owena stepped away from the tree and the man who had just stepped out from behind it. Seeing his sword, she raised her hands, her eyes drawn to her pack where it rested in the snow by the base of the tree and then back to the stranger. "Please," she said quietly, too shocked to be much louder than a whisper, wary of the man's weapon.
She was unsure of what to do. What if he decided to attack? She had never been in this sort of situation, nor had she seen this person before. It caused her to wonder...

Faran blinked and raised his eyebrows. He had made a rather embarrassing mistake; this girl was not going to hurt him.

He lowered his sword, but he did not sheath it yet. There was always a chance... "Forgive me," he murmured with a bow of his head. "Where did you come from, if you don't mind my asking?"

As soon as he lowered his sword, Owena dropped her hands to her sides. She frowned and kept her eyes on him, refusing to let down her guard completely. As he had kept his sword out, she assumed he had the same idea. "You are forgiven," she said with a tiny smile, "However, that is not an easy question to answer. I am wondering myself, you see, where you are from. I have never stumbled upon you before."

He resisted a laugh. "You're avoiding my question. Fair enough." Faran's mind spun with possible lies he could tell her to keep out of danger, but none of them seemed at all credible. He could tell her the truth, but the fact that he had never seen her in Tallnasa might not be a credit to chance. She could have come from Fantaina, for all he knew. All the more reason to be careful, he thought, and all the more reason to get to know her. Trying to keep eye contact and failing, he told her, "I come from Tallnasa, on that side of these woods." He gestured to the general direction of his home.

"I've given you an answer. Now, would you return the favor?"

Tallnasa. He is from Tallnasa and he is in my refuge. Is this supposed to mean something? "I'll tell you the same information you've told me, I suppose I could do that much." Owena smoothed her dress skirt with her hands, the air cool against her skin. "Fantaina. That is where I am from. Is this a problem?" She raised an eyebrow in an attempt to hide her nervousness, her fear that his answer would not be one she wanted to hear. It hadn't occurred to her that she could have lied.

Faran softened his gaze and debated putting his sword away. This young woman didn't exactly come across as the war-hungry type. "I don't think it is. You don't seem to think so, either, unless I'm mistaken. Regardless, it doesn't have to be a problem." He kept one hand on his sword out of habit, though he felt almost certain that he wouldn't need it.

"Oh," she said with a quiet sigh, "You are most definitely not mistaken." Owena relaxed and smiled slightly. "I'm afraid we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves a wee bit better, hmm? My name is Owena. And who might you be, sir?"

He let his chuckle out now. "I apologize for that. I've been very on edge lately." Faran didn't mention that this was because he had left his captain's ranks without permission. "It's been a unique pleasure to meet you, Owena. And my name is Faran." His lips curled up in a slight smile, but he kept the rest of his face stern. He didn't want to let his guard down just yet. Contradictory to his thoughts, however, he placed his sword back in its sheath and almost smiled again. "I won't need this, will I?"

"That is understandable." Owena let her smile grow as her nervous fear faded to the background. "And a pleasure to meet you as well, Faran, though a bit shocking as well." She noted that he had sheathed his sword and she felt a little lighter at that. So he didn't want a fight. She was very relieved; she would have been no match for him and his sword. Especially in this weather. "No," she replied with a more thoughtful tone and expression, "I don't believe you'll be needing that. Not with me, at the least."

"Yes, shocking would be an appropriate word," Faran nodded. "I thought you might be someone else. Thank you for not requiring that I use my sword." He closed his mouth. He needed to stop talking about himself before he got into trouble, just like his younger sister always would. "What do you mean, 'at the least'? Do others come here?"

((Sorry for disappearing! I had to walk home from babysitting.))

"I thought it fit," she replied lightly. "And who was it that you thought I was? Clearly someone who deserves your blade." Owena lifted a hand to brush a few stray pieces of hair back away from her face. "I've not met many others here. Until you, I had never seen another person within these woods. I wouldn't worry. I was thinking more along the lines of animals."

((I've got to go have a shower. I'll be back.))

((No problem at all. I've gotten pretty distracted today.))

"I wasn't sure," Faran lied. "Someone less discreet, I suppose. I hadn't thought much about animals until you said something, so I appreciate the warning." He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Owena's pleasant appearance did not suggest that she frequented the forest, but he sensed that she knew the place better than he did. Perhaps she could help him get his bearings. ...But he wasn't ready to enter Fantaina territory, not yet. He needed to stay in this no man's land until he had a plan. "You don't mind the dangers of this place?" he found himself asking her.

((It's alright! I'm at a Christmas dinner, so I'll answer this after. Love ya!))

((Love you, too. Have fun. :]))

((merci! It was a blast.))

She laughed quietly and it changed her look entirely. "I'm sure you won't find too many animals worth pulling a sword on, but I'm positive that would be the only thing to worry about. However...after today I am not too sure. After all, I did not think I would find you here either." Owena shrugged her shoulders slightly and bent to retrieve her pack from where it lay in the snow by the base of the tree.
She dusted it off and slung the strap over her shoulder, the familiar weight a comfort of sorts. She smiled gently at him, her green eyes sparking in amusement. "I have come here since I was a child. Any fear I once might have had of the forest was lost long ago."

Faran nodded. "It's getting dark," he stated, running a hand through his hair. "I should try to start a fire and set up a camp while I can see clearly." He set down the pack that contained his cloak, a tinder box, and a few blankets; he kept his sword for cutting branches. Unless Owena knew any less brutal areas of the forest, he was in for a miserable night.

She narrowed her eyes at him curiously. "You are sleeping out here? Is there a reason you cannot return to your home?" Owena shook her head quickly. "You do not have to answer that. However, if you insist on sleeping outdoors, there is a little spot not too far from here that has a cave-like structure. That would at least provide a dry place for you."

He stopped in his tracks. She had told him he didn't have to answer, so he wouldn't. But if Faran met anyone else out here, he doubted they would be so trusting. He would have to come up with a story. He turned around.

"You've given me a fair number of reasons to thank you," Faran conceded. "Can I do anything in return, Owena?"

"I only ask that you do not speak of my little romps in the woods if you are ever to meet the people of Fantaina. That would be very good of you," she added with a small smile. "There is not much I need that I cannot manage to do on my own, but this is one of those things that require the second party's agreement. What say you, Faran?"
There was something about this strange Tallnassan man that had Owena's mind racing to try to put together all the little pieces he was sending her way, whether intentionally or not. He was a mystery, and this blacksmith's daughter was intrigued.

"Not a word," Faran smiled back. "I swear to it. If you change your mind and you find you need help, do not hesitate to ask. The way things look, I could be here for quite some time. Which way to the cave?"

Owena could not help but be pleased by his answer; he was turning out to be quite the gentleman, despite their first 'sharp' encounter. "The cave is about fifty paces over that way," she told him, her hand held out to her right, towards Fantaina. "Don't fret; it is well-hidden if you don't know what you're looking for. I doubt any wanderers would stumble upon you there as they might have if you stayed here."
It occurred to her that the same thing that made the cave a good spot might also make it difficult to locate for Faran, as he had never seen it before and would not know what to expect. "It might be best if I show you where it is. As I mentioned, it is a little hidden."

"I appreciate your assistance," Faran told her. He wondered how many more times he would end up thanking her tonight, let alone if they saw each other again. He hoisted the pack onto his shoulder and gazed in the direction that Owena had specified. This cave was even closer to Fantainan territory--closer to answers, if anyone would give them to him. He started toward the cave, a smile in his eyes.

It struck her that this man, while a gentleman, was Tallnassan. She became unsure of herself. Why was she helping him? Because he was polite? Handsome? Surely she was not shallow enough to be willing to be so traitorous over mere looks, was she? Owena shook the unhappy thoughts from her head as they neared the cave's location and she spotted the telltale dip in the vegetation over the rock face, subtly revealing where the stone ended and air began.
The fact that Faran did not seem bent on war served to lull her worries and soothe her heart as she strode through the snow--much shallower beneath the thicker trees-- to the twisted vines that concealed the cave like a curtain. She slipped her hand between living and not, pulling back the woven strands to reveal the darkness of the cavern within. "Your castle, sir," she said with a flourish as she stepped aside with the vines still clasped within her hand.

Faran laughed, ducking slightly in order to fit through the entrance. He took the vines into his hands and brushed Owena's by accident. Despite--or perhaps because of--all that she had done for him, he couldn't help feeling the slightest sprain to his pride, knowing that he might not have made it on his own. He entered the darkness completely but stuck his head out once more. "Once again, thank you." He bowed his head out of respect. "The best of luck to you, wherever you are headed." In another circumstance, he would ask how she planned to get home and even help here get there. Not only did she live in enemy territory, but Faran knew by now that Owena could survive on her own.

That contact, however small, caused Owena to experience a feeling she had never felt before. Curiosity lit a fuse within her-- at least, that was what it seemed. She was curious, at least. "It's been a pleasure, Faran. I wish you well." As she turned to leave, she paused, looking back at him briefly. "Perhaps we will stumble upon each other once more."
She flashed him a quick smile and then was on her way, the gears already twirling and whirling in her head. If she could get home without too much trouble, everything would be fine. Finding Faran had been a delay but she was sure she could come up with a reason her parents would believe. If pressured.

((Goodnight hon, I'll talk to you tomorrow!))

While he needed some time alone, Faran also felt that Owena had left too soon. He hadn't had human contact in over a week--not since he left his post in the battle--and the connection had brought a spark of humanity back to his way of life. The last time he had spoken with a girl outside the family had been before he left for the war. Owena had helped him realize that, maybe, there were others like him, others that were willing to challenge the limits of this battle.

He could be killed for knowing such a person, and so could she.

Faran drew his sword and slashed a few of the vines. Enough vines to keep a flame alive, but not enough to reveal his new hideaway. Even with the luxury of a dry place to sleep, he could succumb to the weather if he wasn't careful. Taking out his tinder box, he struck a fire, then set up his blankets and cloak in the warmest way possible.

As he lay in his makeshift bed, he continued thinking of Owena, for his questions about the war were now tied to her. Would she risk speaking to him again? If she didn't hate him for the kingdom he belonged to, who did? Who had kindled this inexplicable hatred?

He sighed. Thinking and hoping to see her again could wait until morning. Now, he needed to rest.

((Sorry, I missed your post. Goodnight!))

((it's alright. :D My post might not be too long this time. Yours was awesome, by the way.))

Owena pulled her cloak closed in front of her and used a hand to flick her hood up over her hair. The air was getting cooler with every second, it seemed. Her fingers were near frozen after a day spent entirely out in the wintry cold. As she walked her mind wandered to Faran. Who was he really? He was well-spoken and polite, he seemed intelligent, and wasn't one for the war. Was that just a cover, a way to get into Fantaina, or was it sincere? She couldn't be sure but she hoped for the best.
If she was able to speak openly, voice her opinions, she Owena had a feeling that life would not be the same.

By the time she arrived home the sky was completely dark, stars sparkling brightly in the night.

((Why, thank you. As always, I love your posts. If you have any ideas for Faran/Owena stuff, let me know.))

((Thanks! *hugs* I will let you know. Same to you, kay?))

((*hugs and nods*))

Faran woke before the sun had risen. It took several minutes for his eyes to adjust to the blackness, since his fire had died hours ago. He tugged on his cloak and peeked through the vines. The forest remained dark save a grey light that had begun to creep up in the east. Even after being gone for a few weeks, his body refused to sleep past sunrise. He supposed it would take a while longer for the habits of battle to fade.

Through the vines, he could not see any immediate signs of animal life, and all the plants must have died by now. He had not a decent source for fire, and besides, the way Owena had talked of the animals last night, like they weren't threats, he wondered if he could bring himself to kill one anymore. He would take a small crust of bread from his pack today, but he would have to hunt soon.

((Aw, Faran! You're so cute.))

((Thanks. XD))

With a sigh of resignation, Faran drew his sword and bowed out of the cave. Logic had won him over. If he hunted now, he could let the meat dry--or freeze, rather--while he used what remained of his rations.

He had never relished killing anything, but after he had witnessed the consequences of war for himself, the thought of ending life twisted his gut. Of course, he would rather slay an animal for food than a human any day. Stop getting worked up over this or the sun will make the game disappear.

This was a time when Faran enjoyed his lean figure, even if other soldiers might mock him for it. He had an easier time making less noise than the brawny men did, and hiding rarely posed a problem. His footsteps on the snow made little sound. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a squirrel on a tree branch. Was it worth it? Probably not. His sword was no good against such small creatures at such long distances.

After about half an hour, Faran brought a small deer back to the cave and hid it in the bushes. He had found it with a broken leg and no parents in sight. He sighed again, reluctant to return to his dark new home. He passed through the vines just enough to actually be considered inside and sat against the wall.

((I'm posting again because I'm bored.))

Rock walls protected him from the wind and snow, but did nothing for the recent cold. Faran shivered in silence, his hood pulled up and his arms hugging his knees to his chest. He imagined that Mara was much more comfortable in the Palace of Tallnasa. Fires roaring in the fireplaces, mounds of covers over the beds, beds to begin with...

He shouldn't be bitter. His sister had agreed to a duty given from their king; he had left behind his captain, their prince. What should he have expected? At least Mara was safe. He wished he could see her. It had been so long.

If he returned, though, he ran the high risk of running into the Captain. First, Faran had to find some information, or at least find some information that could lead him to information.

And he couldn't do that in this cave. Faran crawled to the entrance and pulled the curtain of vines away, poking his head through. He left his hideout but remained in a crouching position. Where to start?

When he stood and wandered about, a set of footsteps in the snow, about three hundred feet from the cave, caught his eye. They led to 'enemy" territory. Perhaps he could follow them for a mile or two, see what appeared. It might throw him directly into the clutches of the Fantainian army... As he drew closer to the footsteps, however, he realized that they didn't look like those of a captain; in fact, they might belong to a young lady.

Faran didn't move. Until now, he hadn't truly taken in the beauty of this place. Something kept him rooted to the frozen ground.

Owena had lingered at the edge of the woods for far too long; if someone had've come by, she would have been found and punished-- unless she could think up a suitable reason for being so close to forbidden territory. However, as she entered the forest for the first time that day, she was sure she had not been seen.
She wondered if the strange Tallnassan man --Faran-- had actually stayed. Perhaps he had simply moved on when he woke in the morning, the coldness driving him to warmer places. Or mayhaps he was in need of food. In that case, Owena was prepared. It wasn't much, what she had in her sack, but it would do for a meal or two and she was sure this man was skilled with his sword. It was likely that he would be able to find his own game if he wished to.

Her thoughts consumed her so fully that she hardly noticed how far she had already walked or how long she'd been walking. She paused in her steps and looked around, finding herself not terribly far from where she had left Faran the previous evening.

Faran was about to begin following the footsteps when he saw a dark-haired girl not far off. She stood out starkly against the snow. "Owena?" His voice came out in some strange mixture of a question, a call, and a whisper. Even though he had not seen anyone else in the forest since he met her, he couldn't help keeping his voice on the lower side.

The voice was quiet but the sound of her name came on a newly familiar tone. Faran. So he stayed, she thought to herself with a sense of surprise and-- dare she admit it?-- perhaps some relief. It was nice to know that there was someone to talk to who knew her standings, at least a little. Owena turned to face him and was not disappointed at the sight of Faran standing a short distance away.
She briefly wondered if she should be worried that she had recognized his voice so easily.
"Faran," she said in reply, taking a step towards him. "How did you sleep?"

Faran smiled. "I have developed bad sleeping habits over the years, so not too well, but I woke up early enough for a decent hunt. Did your night bode well?" He dared to step a foot or two closer to Owena. He still had that lingering sense of caution about speaking with her.

Noticing his caution, Owena realized that he had the right idea; they should be wary of each other. It made sense to be careful. Better safe than sorry, right?
She stopped after a few more steps and kept her bag in front of her, her fingers curled around the closure. "My night was fine, thank-you for asking.-- I brought some bread and cheese, if you would like it. I figured meat would get a little boring after a while."
Owena shrugged and smiled, just slightly.

Faran recognized the same wary look in Owena's eyes that must fill his own. He stared at the bag that she held, not sure of how to respond. Honestly, he would rather have her keep it. His pride could only take so much charity; besides, he had no idea what her home life was like, what she might have sacrificed to bring it to him. Maybe she needed it.

"Thank you for thinking of me," Faran said--and he meant it, "but I can get by. I have rations left. You've done enough for me as it is."

"If you are sure," she murmured, eyes narrowing in the slightest. "But it really is not any sort of inconvenience to me. It's not much, I just...nevermind." Owena kicked her foot in the snow, shivering when snow leaked into her boots to chill her feet. She instantly regretted not donning her stockings that morning.
"I've not done much for you at all, truly. All I have helped with was the location of the cave, and I am sure you would have been able to find it on your own."

"I'm sorry," Faran backtracked. "I did not mean..." He glanced down at the snow, shaking his head with a sigh. "If I take it, can I do anything to make it up to you? I am no believer in one-sided gifts. There has to be something I can give you."