(no subject)

[tempestuously]

Ilandra always loved the fresh smell of wildflowers. She kept a clip of them fastened to the waist of her dress, nuzzled among the whorls of black satin bows. The ends of the bows trailed down her thigh, only slightly hiding the pale flesh that her translucent red gown revealed. It was of simple make, low cut in the front and trim around her figure. Her only complaint lay with the wretched black marks scattered liberally about its chest. It would have been more prudent of its previous owner to hand it over without a fuss instead of putting up such a disrespectful fuss.
“Ugh. It still smells like the bitch,” Ilandra growled, plucking another handful of flowers from the ground and adding them to the bunch already on her dress. Later, she would have to wash the cloth properly.
Daintily stepping over the prone figure in her path, Ilandra made her way through the field, clucking affectionately at the gray horse tasting a bit of grass as it waited for a mistress that would never return.
“Your days in bondage are over with.” She grasped at the horse’s bridle, not at all amazed at the animal’s ease with her presence.
Ilandra’s nails slid over the leather of the piece, splitting it as easily as one would split a blade of grass. The now disjoined halves of the bridle slipped to the ground. Next, she moved onto the saddle, unbuckling the straps along the horse’s flanks. She would not risk her nails on that thick leather.
When the saddle was off, Ilandra stroked the horse’s neck and brought her fingers up to its cheek. She was about to nuzzle its nose when she sensed another’s approach.
This intruder also came by horseback, riding with speed and purpose. Ilandra heard the sound of stamping hooves as the horse was brought to an unexpected stop. She lifted her head and tried to catch a glimpse of the rider, who was still too far off to present a clear visual. All Ilandra could make out was the black attire and the short white-silver hair moved by imperceptible wind.

“Still haven’t lost your love for animals, hmm, princess?”
Ilandra snarled at the voice. Her hands dropped to her sides, fingers flexing with vicious intent.
“I’d watch myself, princess.” The rider slowly came upon her. “You forget who taught you your trade.”
“Enis!” Ilandra all but vomited the name from her throat.
Thirty years marked the last time she’d laid eyes on the creature before her. A noble woman now, though that had not been the case back then.

The journey had been rough and many times the tiny princess’ mare had attempted to turn around and race back to the safety of the castle. Only years of training, starting when the princess learned to walk in fact, kept the mare in check. She couldn’t go back now. Her father would be furious after a whole day of her absence. Still, the princess didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t find something soon. The sky was becoming so dark and her stomach was growing louder.
She passed some berry bushes and stopped, wondering if they were edible. Why hadn’t she asked the pageboy more about the forest when she asked about the rumors?
“Well, one or two couldn’t hurt,” she said, climbing off the mare and reaching toward the bush.
Behind it, she heard a yowl. She backed up quickly, noticing a white flash through the stunted leaves. There was another cry, this time sharper and more pained. Without considering the nature of the beast that might be found, the princess crept behind the bush.
She nearly stepped into a gaping pit. Inside it a disheveled figure leapt and clawed at the sides of the pit, the slick mud making it impossible to grab a hold of anything. The silky, black shirt that clung to the figure’s body, sleeveless and sheared off in a sloppy diagonal along the bottom, was caked in mud. Some smeared portions of the full, bronzed breasts, which the ragged shirt failed to cover. But the condition of the cloth upon the torso was nothing compared to that of the torn strips slapping against the legs, remnants of the airy, black cloth once wrapped around the hips.
The trapped woman looked exhausted and terrified yet the princess hesitated to help. Her eyes wavered over the unnaturally bright silver hair of the woman. Errant strands of it played over the woman’s eyes and neck, barely long enough to pester. The princess stood frozen.
Maybe if she had been wiser, she would have returned to the horse. Maybe if that one weak rock wouldn’t have held long enough for the other woman to see over the pit, the princess would have had a chance. Tragically, neither of these events took place and fate swept up the opportunity.
Tumbling back down the pit after spying the stunned princess, the strange woman grasped for a plan. She examined herself for any telltale signs that might reveal her business. Ah, whatever had been left from her last trip, the dirt and scraping walls had taken care of. She backed up and lowered her voice, disguising the feral snarl in her tone.
“Thank the gods you found me, child! I thought I might starve to death.”
The princess made no sound.
Cursing under her breath, the woman tried again. “You see, I was out gathering some wood for my household. I didn’t notice this trap some sloppy hunter must have planted, probably hoping for large game. Lucky I didn’t break my leg in the fall.” She climbed a little up the wall. “Do be so kind as to lend us a hand.”
“You’re…Enis,” the princess said softly.
Enis growled in frustration. “Why do you say that, child?”
“The pageboy told me. He said the demon Enis has hair the color of molten steel but shining as bright as the sun.”
“Why would one of such innocence desire this fearsome knowledge?”
“I wanted to find you,” the princess replied, still not moving. “They always talk of you. The peasants. They say you listen to no one and that you can do anything.”
“I can’t get out of this damn hole,” Enis grumbled but to the princess she said, “You are too curious for your own good, child. But I promise you this, help me from this horrid pit and we shall talk about your Enis.”
“But you are Enis.”
“Get me out!” Enis lunged at the sides once more.
Wincing, the princess looked around her for a means of aiding the demon. She knew for sure that this was the creature she had sought. That look of rage in Enis’ black eyes and that incredible strength as her fingers and wrists disappeared completely into the thick mud confirmed it. Here was a creature of pure self-indulgence. This was the princess’ means of escape-- from the dreary castle life, from attending balls, from entertaining pig-nosed boys (one of whom her father planned to make her wed), from sitting through each dull lesson on the piano or the flute, and most of all from being under constant surveillance of the castle servants. Nine years of age and still imprisoned inside elaborate walls and grandiose doorways.
Now, all she had to do was free the demon and her new life could begin. The princess spotted a long branch some ways from them. It wasn’t terribly thick but it felt sturdy enough. Besides, they didn’t have the luxury of rope. If the legends were true, Enis wouldn’t need much to escape from her predicament. She dragged it over to the pit, almost passing out from fatigue by the time she reached it. The branch was much heavier than she thought.
“Try…to…grab this,” she called out, carefully sliding the branch down the pit’s wall so that it remained upright but at a slight angle. Enis helped, grabbing the branch and directing it with her superior strength.
“Such a smart child. What shall I call you?” Enis purred, starting to ascend the makeshift ladder.
The princess smiled from the top. “I’m Princess Ilandra.” Her hand immediately slapped over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to add the title; it was just habit.
“Princess, hmm?” Chuckling, Enis cleared the pit and instantly caught Ilandra by her throat. “And what, pray tell, does the little princess want with a demon?” She breathed the question against Ilandra’s flesh, tensing her nails against the tiny neck.
Fear shot through Ilandra. Had she not thought this would happen? She was face-to-face with the monster responsible for so much turmoil in the kingdom. Had they not said Enis was dangerous and wicked? Strange, she had always thought Enis to be a man. How could a woman cause this unrest? Her father had said women were born to be gentle, quiet, and faithful beings. Not Enis.
Ilandra wanted to be with Enis more than ever!
She forgot about the grip on her neck or the bitterness in Enis’ words. “I want to be a demon too,” she piped.
Enis nearly dropped her. “You what?!”
“I want to be just like you.” Ilandra smiled even more eagerly.
“I didn’t realize princesses of this kingdom were prone to madness.”
“I’m not mad. I’m excited. I know everything about you, demon Enis. The minstrels sing of you before every supper. Father yells at them, says the tales will frighten me but I’m not scared. I think you’re wonderful. You have everything.”