Abaddon VIII

Dawn was stretching her golden limbs when the Princess was awakened by Jabberwock. “Oh, I slept terribly,” she complained.

“You don’t have to tell me,” snarled the Bandersnatch. “I had to listen to the rustle of straw as you tossed and turned all night.”

Eluned padded over to the washbasin and splashed cold water on her puffy face. “I feel like I slept in the dragon’s lair last night.” She poked, tenderly, at the tired flesh beneath her eyes. “I must look like a dragon,” she croaked and bared her teeth at Jabberwock.

“Sorry, my dear, but I am afraid you couldn’t even frighten a mouse. You always look beautiful whether you are mad or sad or even when you are tired.”

“Well, thank you,” she pulled a wide-toothed comb through her tangled curls. “I’d hate to meet my knight in shining armor and look like a fiend.”

“Not to worry,” Jabberwock yawned, waiting for the Princess to get dressed and idly wishing he could see the expression on the face of the first man to see her undressed. Uriel, preferably. She was something to behold.

“You’re holding out on me,” she said, with a laugh. “You know who my prince charming is, don’t you?”

“I mean only that when you finally meet him, he will be enraptured despite your appearance.”

She studied him for a moment, comb raised half-way to her hair. Her eyes narrowed for a moment. “I assume that’s all I am going to get out of you?”

His eyes broadened in mock innocence, as opaque as the dark wool of her long skirt. “All I can say is that you’ll know him when you meet him.” At least, he hoped so.

“Hmmpf,” she snorted, tossing her comb into her satchel. She opened the creaky wooden door of their chamber. They tip-toed downstairs, but Zelda was already up and insisted on pressing a mug of hot coffee into Eluned’s fragile hand. Her long fingers curled around the cup, thankfully. Her fingers were numb with the cold. She sipped, greedily, at the strong brew, relishing the sensation of the hot liquid as it slid down her throat and began to thaw her insides. She usually preferred it with cream but heat was priority and it wasn’t long before the warmth in her belly started to spread to her extremities.

Biscuits, warm with melted butter and thick honey, were wrapped in a red-checked cloth and shoved into her tapestry bag. The two backed out of the inn’s massive front door, which had been standing open the previous evening in order to dissipate not only body heat but body odor. Today, only Eluned’s eagerness to hit the road gave her the strength to shove the door open with her back. Although she would pay for that later with a bruised shoulder blade. With the Princess stating the necessary good-byes and thank-yous to the hovering Zelda, they finally made it to the wide white track that led toward the mountains.

“Be yer sure yer dersn’t be wantin’ bread an’ cheese fer yer lunch?”she chirped.

“We’ve made plans,” Jabberwock spoke, leaving the poor woman leaning against the door jamb, mouth agape.

Eluned sent him a reproving look but was soon choking back the laughter that threatened to explode from her throat.

It was her turn to be eyed, sternly, and she tried to apologize. “I guess I . . .”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “we’re both tired, and,” he grumbled, “we have a hell of a long way to go today.”

“Hell?” The Princess raised an eyebrow in mock (aw, what the heck) shock.

“You’re a bad influence, my dear.”

She leaned down to kiss the soft hair on top of Jabberwock’s small and round skull. “But you love me anyway, right?”

He rolled his marble eyes. “Indubitably. It looks as if we’re in for a storm.” He changed the subject.

She watched the roiling, boiling clouds gathering over the snowy peaks to the east—the Mountains of Misericord. The jagged mountains were hidden beneath a cinereous, churning mass of clouds. She looked, worriedly, at the Bandersnatch. They, well she, at least, was not prepared to travel in the rain. She shuddered as the wind picked up, buttoned her wool cloak. Head forward and bowed against the wind, she tromped, determinedly, ahead, and Jabberwock had to trot to keep up with her.