On the Steps of the Cathedral

”Beautiful evening, don’t you think?” Murmured a cloaked figure.

Ariel had seen loneliness. She used to notice it in her own reflection, one face among half a dozen other Princesses in the underwater palace of Atlantica. Surrounded by mermaids, but feeling completely alone. As if all the light in her had been blotted out by the ink of a dismal octopus.

That was why, even though she should certainly not be here, the Queen of Oceanica chanced a word to the girl on the steps. That, and the people in this entire city seemed so downcast, collectively. They reminded her of Max, lurking under tables and hoping for scraps, but without the hairy smiles. She had come to learn more about the Cursed Thorns. Maybe to find something new to add to her argument with Eric...some evidence that the darker army wasn’t as oppressive as her husband seemed to think.

He wanted to charge in, swashes buckling. He wanted to join the Suns and save the day, like he always did. Ariel ignored the tug of compassion and justice in her own heart. She could see more to this war. She never wanted to feel the way she had when Melody was lost, or the way she had when her father had been willing to plunge Atlantica into danger, ever again. If this occupation in Paris had some glimmer of hope in it, Eric would see that things were complicated. He’d see that getting involved in something that may not be evil-versus-good wasn’t worth endangering both their kingdoms.

Wouldn’t he?

Well. Talking to this woman, who’s kindred spirit seemed to shine in the way she gazed dreamily at the skies, might be a start.

Ariel wasn’t sure she’d be welcome to sit with the lady, who had the look of a scullery maid. She spread her arms slightly at her hips and barely kept herself from twirling. Really, how could anyone help it, with sights like these? ”Oh, isn’t this place just magnificent? I can’t wait to see what that window will look like when the light shines through it.” Starfish hair bounced as the Queen, still a girl at heart, nodded excitedly up at Notre Dame’s stained glass. ”It must be magical. Have you seen it? Do you live here?”

The evening was a special time in Paris, the streets were less lively and the Cursed Thorn patrols became more sparse. Esmeralda often felt a certain net of safety in this quality that became the city in the evenings and would take more liberties. Most nights she was free to tread accordingly. Tonight, however, she’d been caught red handed. Or rather, gold handed. A makeshift golden dust that she kept in a pouch upon her hip and if she positioned her hand, palm down, and threw the dusting around it, it’d replicate the faint outline of a golden wing. She pasted the symbol upon the stone walls of the city where she saw fit, a gentle reminder that the people in this city were not alone and where the Enchanted Suns couldn’t reach, another presence could.

The Gilded Wings.

The guards had rounded the corner just as she’d been dusting her hands and making to leave, Djali baying in alarm to draw her attention just as the pair of men had set eyes on her. And so began the chase, darting through old abandoned stalls and slipping through small openings of boarded fences at the end of alley ways. This brought Esmeralda to the front of Notre Dame, a place that once offered sanctuary and she imagined could do so again but not quite in the same way that it used to. The sanctity of the church was long gone in the traditional sense, soldiers coming and going as they pleased. As Esmeralda rounded into the square she grabbed a large old browned sheet hanging from the side of one of the stalls. It was tattered and dusty but it would serve its purpose for now.

What Esmeralda hadn’t anticipated was the company, two women perched upon the front steps engaged in conversation, one with blonde hair pinned back and the other with fiery red. They both seemed kind, but she hoped they wouldn’t be too alarmed to play along or even sell her out. Rushing up the steps on the opposite side of the cathedral to the pair, Djali on her heels, Esmeralda tucked herself up against the massive walls by the doors. Djali scampered in at Esmeralda’s beckons, giving a feeble bay as she shook out the brown sheet. With one glance towards the women Esmeralda flashed them a conspiratorial wink before flourishing the tarp over her shoulders, pulling it taught around her neck to form a deep hood to hide her face and dropping the back end over herself and Djali together. With the most minimal of trickery Esmeralda no longer appeared the frantically fleeing young woman, but an elderly peasant seeking refuge in front of the church.

Just as her disguise settled the two guards came bumbling around the corner, sword in the hand of one and a spear in the hand of the other. They clomped forth with their heavy armor, heaving towards the cathedral and setting eyes upon the two women in front and sparing a glance suspiciously to the hooded beggar by the door.

”You’s seen a woman an’ her mangy goat run through?” the first soldier asked the two women gruffly. The second soldier was poking around the front of a vacant house across the way, peering past a boarded window before beginning his slow circle around the square. Esmeralda, still concealed as far as her peasant disguise went, held her breath while waiting to see which of the women might sell her out. Or, she could hold a sliver of hope for the event that they were to keep her secret and willingly hide her. It was a lot to ask of a stranger, but Esmeralda often had faith in the common folk, especially in this day and age.

Ella stood up right next to Ariel. It was a shame that their meeting had to be cut short. Ella had finally felt comfortable for the first time in a long time. She missed the small luxury of having a civil conversation that had nothing to do with tasks or chores or manual labor. It felt good to have a potential friend in Ariel.

When Esmeralda came through, Ella couldn't help but be enchanted right away. She seemed so sure of herself, so quick on her feet, all the things Ella wished she could be but failed miserably at. When the guards came rushing through, she almost had to stifle a giggle at how silly the dark-haired woman made them look!

The blonde spared a quick glance at Ariel, a note that she, too, wouldn't be selling this woman out. She simply didn't deserve it. "Yes we were!" Ella replied, with a nod, "I don't know about you fine gentleman, but could you ever imagine someone owning a goat while living in the city? Anyway, I'm sure as you'll see, she's clearly not here." The former princess punctuated the sentence with a firm nod. She hoped that the two would buy their story.

Ariel couldn’t stifle a giggle, watching the guards run off. They moved like they had all the purpose in the world, probably to chase their own reflection in Paris’ muddy puddles. She was sharing this laugh with the young woman who had helped, placing a comrade’s hand on her shoulder, when the goat keeper approached.

This brunette was quite lovely and interesting enough to deserve the Queen’s attention, but she couldn’t help but stare at the gold fingers that matched her jewelry. One curious finger hovered, girlishly, near the former mermaid’s mouth and her expression was all whosits and whatsits. What was a ‘golden peddler?’

Then she remembered her manners.

Esmerelda and Djali, what fun names! It sounded like Emerald and Jolly. The redhead’s face shared friendship like benevolent sunshine that was broad enough for maid, fugitive and goat alike. ”Oh, don’t mention it! It was fun!” Another giggle topped Ariel’s answer. She reached to tickle Djali’s hairy chin.

A couple of regular ol’ scoundrels, weren’t they? Esmeralda looked them both over, each with a flick of her striking green eyes before glancing down to Djali who seemed to share her interest. As well as intrigue. She gathered the brown cloth a little better over her arm, tilting her hip to shift her weight to the opposite leg as the bangles across her dress jingled against one another. Her dark hair, a little dishevelled by the thrill of the chase and her abrupt disguise, was otherwise kept in place by the pink scarf that tied it neatly from falling into her face. It contributed to her slightly scruffy but glittering appeal. But not an unkind or dangerous rogue, not by far, Esmeralda chuckled appreciatively at the eagerness of the pair.

”That’s good, Paris needs more souls that like fun.” Esmeralda remarked, before adding, ”These times and all.” as if to cover her tracks on her opinion should either of these two be any level of loyalty to the Cursed army. She doubted it, though. Who loyal to such a force would pass up the opportunity to catch a roguish Wings member, or any common criminal once accused of any degree of treachery.

”The pleasure is mine.” she tagged on, inclining her head in a small proceeding show of her previous theatrics. Esmeralda was nothing if not charming with her ease and jokes. The red head, Ariel, was spirited with a thin veil of well defined manners and Esmeralda liked it. Djali clopped around the base of her feet, getting a good look at her face and baying at the woman while ‘pawing’ with his hoove at the fold of her cloak.

”Oh,” she lifted her shoulder and threw her hair over the other dramatically, ”you gain lots of pet names when you’re a little on the other side of the law. A performance or two and you’re a witch. Some smokes and mirrors and you’re, well, a gold peddler. And in the streets of the city I call home, no less.” Esmeralda shrugged off the question relatively easily, flicking her fingers a couple times as the remaining glimmering gold sprinkled from her fingertips. Upon further inspection of the blonde, Ella, Esmeralda’s face lit up.

”Say, I’ve seen you around." she said, running her fingers along her chin as she recalled her face, ”They have you running up and down doing all sorts of things around here, don’t they? Now how does a girl like you end up doing all those things for people like that?” Esmeralda asked. A little more candid, considering all the adventure and mystery she’d arrived with.

Ella could feel the two sets of eyes trained upon her. Almost instinctively, she could feel a wall come up and her heart sink a little. Just for one moment she thought she could be defined by something beyond her station. But a small voice in the back of her head told her not to let it get her down. After all, she knew best that the only way to get by would be to live openly.

"It's not by choice, if that's why you mean," Ella said, kneeling down to try and coax Djali forward. She had always enjoyed animals and the goat was no exception. Having him there almost made it easer. "Well, I was taken from my home and brought here. I didn't really intend to get involved with something like this. I was a ruler, actually. A princess of a small nation that doesn't exist anymore. Simply because someone within the Thorns didn't want it to exist anymore."

Ella was actually surprised at her composure. There was a small hint of emotion, an edge, but after having to shove it down for so long, she became a bit of an expert at it. It still felt nice to share her story, even among strangers. If she never saw the outside world again, at least they would know. The thought comforted her a bit. "There's actually quite a few of us like that. Serving the Thorn army against our wills. It's more common than one would think." She gave the pair a small, sad smile. Maybe they could help, maybe they couldn't but at least they knew, at least she was seen.