October - 2 months later

Fawn woke abruptly to the heavy clanging of the great bronze bell, its urgent tolls of warning sounding out across the thatched rooves and grey crumbling stone of Windemere. The town hadn't rung those bells in nigh on 5 years...not since the men were called to arms in The Godking Wars...

Fawn's heart clambered up her throat as she stumbled from her bed, one knee crashing painfully into the floorboards as the moth-eaten bedsheets clung about her like weeds. Ripping the twisted fabric from her leg, she dashed towards the attic window, her body leaning halfway over the sill as she frantically fought to glimpse the source of the distress. The street below her was in utter chaos, masses of bodies churning and colliding in confused panic.

The first of the tremors began when she was on the stairs, the seismic impact throwing Fawn against the thick railing. Grasping her rib through pained breaths, she staggered forward, leaning against the heavy wood of the front door before forcing it open. She was immediately assaulted by the violence of the scene, her body swept up and carried off into the throng. Blood roared in her ears as she fought to orient herself, the pealing sound of the bells melding with a cacaphony of shrieking, and weeping, and the wild braying of animals. She turned about in bewilderment for a moment before she glimpsed a sudden break in the crowd. Pressing herself up against the stone wall of a temple, she edged toward a narrow gap that lead to the town's backstreets, hands raised instinctively over her head at each resounding quake that ricocheted rhythmically through the town.

Quickening her pace, Fawn ducked deftly through the familiar alleys and hidden pathways in an attempt to bypass the hot swarm of bodies streaming through the main streets. The rough uneven cobblestones cut sharply against her bare feet as she ran, her white slip already sullied with swirling dirt and debris. Emerging abruptly into the town square, Fawn was nearly knocked to the ground as another endless wave of villagers came barreling towards her in a mad panic to escape. She fought desperately forward against the surging crowd, her fragile arms bracing themselves as bodies hurtled toward her and dragged her a few steps backward at a time. Without warning, a stray elbow struck her across the face, sending her crashing to the ground where she grasped her body protectively against the stampede. Doubled over, Fawn fought to suck breath into her burning lungs, the adrenaline that coursed through her drowning out any noise, so that she did not notice when the mob around her finally thinned, then disappeared entirely.

She felt her skin prick as a thick blanket of darkness overtook her, as if the sun had been blotted out by a sudden and furious congregation of dark, dense rain clouds. Heart thundering into her throat, she slowly raised her eyes from where she huddled, crouched on the ground, her head arching further and further backward to take in the sublime and towering presence before her. She could feel every muscle in her body weakning beneath her in instinctual terror, heat flushing through her veins as she found herself pinned helplessly in place by that commanding gaze.

A fierce ache barelled straight through her as she took in the sharp contours of his perfect face, the windswept ocean of his eyes.

"Fawn..." his voice crashed over her like waves upon rock. "I'm so sorry...I never meant to hurt you. I love you. I have always loved -"

Fawn awoke in a strangled gasp, the conjured image of Thomas disappating slowly until only the memory of it remained, hanging heavily over her like a low, vile fog.

Just another dream.

She gradually roused herself from bed, her body heavy as lead, heart even heavier. The shutters of the glassless windows were closed against the low grey skies, allowing only a few narrow shafts of light to fall across the rough dirt floor and illuminate the motes of dust that wafted lazily in the air.

Though it had been roughly two months since she had returned home to Windemere, Fawn was once again overcome with a fresh wave of loss. Nothing around her felt quite real; the house was like some mockery of itself, its furniture too small and poorly made, and she herself, just some specter come back to haunt the empty space.

Ducking her head beneath the knotted, old oak beams at the foot of the stair, Fawn stepped softly into the dark and quiet hearth-room.

She exhaled in relief. It was empty.

These past few days she hardly saw Josie, busy as she was her upcoming autumn nuptials. Scores of young women who had been chosen at the Blossom Dance were soon to be wed at the annual Harvest Festival. The thought sent a fierce pang of grief through Fawn's chest. She wondered if she would have been one of them; had things been different.

Pulling the coarse wool of her worn shawl around her, she stepped out of the cottage, bundling her wind-swept face against the sudden wet chill of the air. October had come upon them quickly this year, blustering through the little town as if trying to make up for summer's endless reign. Dead brown leaves swirled about the caked mud at her shoes as she made her way towards the market in the center of the square. She ignored the barely veiled stares of the villagers from the crumbling doorways of sad, thatched cottages; she had long-grown accustomed to their judgement, their pity.

Fawn had never told anyone the truth of what happened during the four long months of her absence. Rumours swirled of course; some painfully close to the truth. Though the villagers argued about the where and the how, most agreed that she had left to work for a wealthy household, only to be seduced and ruined by its lustful master. Some even whispered that she had been with child. Whether she lost the pregnancy by accident or on purpose, it could not be decided.

The story was not new. On the contrary, it was all-too-common for girls of her class.

Fawn never spoke to or against any of it, barely spoke to anyone at all. When she first arrived back in Windemere, she was like one already dead, her body so weak and ravaged from her desperate grief that she could barely stand. Stumbling into the cottage, she had immediately collapsed into Josie's frantic arms, wracked with sobs so violent that they shuddered through the hollow cave of her ribs and left her throat too raw to speak. Fawn didn't leave the attic bed for a week after, her face swollen painfully from her ceaseless weeping. During this time, her grief felt so fathomless that it seemed to grow into its own entity, something so wild and fierce that it existed seperately from her own body. Sometimes, at the height of her fits, she would almost detach from reality, watching her own sorrow from the outside like a stranger. It was a painful lesson, to learn that the body really could run out of tears.

Only Josie knew the vague events that had brought Fawn low. It was Josie, after all, who had checked her body for signs of violence when she first staggered in, Josie who held her too-frail frame through each painful moan, each sob-wracked cry of 'I love him'. Though she knew Fawn's lover was of high and noble blood, Fawn could never bear to admit it was the Godking.

While the other townsgirls busied themselves with their engagements, Josie refused to leave Fawn's side. On the days when the missing got too heavy, she would help Fawn to bathe and dress, rouse her from bed, force her to take broth onto her acrid tongue. And when Fawn would wake from a nightmare about him, Josie would already be awake, stroking her nest of matted hair, collecting her shrinking body into her arms as she hushed her through her anguish. Though Fawn dreaded these night terrors, it was the good dreams that were the hardest to endure. The ones where she could feel his tender touch again, the tips of his long, slender fingers playing lovingly across her skin before gathering her up towards him, into the all-encompassing safety of his presence. The ones where he would come back to her to apologize: for the mistake, for the misunderstanding, for everything. The ones where he would take her back. They were so vivid, so real that Fawn would wake up with a desperate surge of hope that lasted one aching moment before the crushing reality of his abandonment descended on her once again. She would scream out his name then, like one half-mad, even though she knew he wasn't coming, would never come again.

It was unbearable.

And yet, somehow, she bore it. Somehow she staggered out the other side of her grief still breathing, still alive. If that's what they called it, this half-life, this shadow of her former self.

"Fin! Finny!" The familiar voice cut through Fawn's heavy thoughts, anchoring her back to the bustling windswept streets.

She could see Josie crossing the square, her head turned back momentarily to order her fiancé toward one of the ribbon stalls in exasperation. The man kept glancing back at the raven-haired beauty as she wove deftly through the crowds. He was mooning over her like a love-sick dog.

Fawn fought to keep the distate from her face as she witnessed the simpering man's infatuation, but couldn't quite disguise the flicker of aversion.

"Now don't you look at him like that", Josie snapped as she joined Fawn, linking arms with her affectionately as they took off towards the stalls of fresh fruit. Her tone lacked conviction. "You know how he's been mad for me ever since I was a lass. I thought it was finally time I stop torturing the poor boy."

"But Josie...John Higglesby? Truly? He's so...so...ridiculous..."

"Now really, Fawn. It's not like you to be cruel." Though there was annoyance in Josie's voice, there was amusement too.

"Josie, they were your words! You always used to drum us up into laughing at him!"

"I don't recall ever saying such a thing", Josie retorted tightly, her lips pursed. "Besides, I am not a foolish little girl anymore, Fawn", she continued. "Good looks and fine promises don't bring home any bread."

Fawn winced at the allusion to her own situation, the gesture making Josie's face soften regretfully. "I'm sorry Fawn...I wasn't suggesting that you..."

"It's alright Jose. I wasn't even thinking it", she lied.

The girls hugged their arms tighter, a wordless acknowledgement that their small spat was already forgotten. Josie. Always quick to anger, always quicker to forget. It was almost like old times, Fawn thought. Almost.

"John has just inherited his father's grain business, you know", Josie put in hurriedly. "He is a respected man in town and he will soon be moving us into a new house he is having built. Oh, it is very fine, indeed! Five rooms, Finny! With a real salon...glass windows and wood floors throughout! Mama will be so pleased..."

Fawn felt her gut twist sharply as she listened to Josie prattle on enthusiastically about her 'grand' home. She tried to appear as awed by such finery as she would have in the past, but found she could no longer muster the same naive enthusiasm after her time with the Godking.

He had taken her innocence, just not the kind that everyone else suspected.

For the first time since he had left her, Fawn felt the low burn of fury in her stomach, a sharp contrast to the usual vista of unending sadness. How could he ever think she could return peacefully to the dull and unassuming monotony of village life after he had pried open the doors of possibility? It wasn't the money; she had never cared for riches, had given away his damned gold to the poorhouse. No, it was worse than that; he had let her taste of the world's unending wonders, whet her appetite for boundless knowledge, for challenging conversation, for a future beyond mere marriage and childbirth, only to dash the cup from her very lips. And love? How could he imagine she could ever desire another man after his all-encompassing love? How dare he think it? She could not even abide the idea of someone else's touch where his fingers had lingered...

Fawn was startled from her thoughts as the sharp call of a war horn cut through the crisp, autumn air, followed closely behind by the thundering approach of hooves. Shouts rose up through the streets as villagers scrambled out of shops and homes, the rarity of vistors setting everyone on edge.

Fawn's stomach flipped at the commotion, her heart soaring into her throat as she recalled this morning's dream. She tried to stand on the tips of her toes to peer over the crowd. Perhaps...

But it was only an emissary of riders.

"Make way! Out of the way!" A slant-shouldered man drove his horse through the growing crowd, his flinty eyes flashing down from his coarse face in disgust at the peasants before him. He was followed closely by three other men in guard's attire, the royal insignia of the Godking's house emblazed proudly on their chests. The air was knocked out of Fawn's lungs at the mere sight of it, her heart aching at the thought that these men had lately been in his presence.

"Silence! Get back!" The messenger called out sharply, careenning his frothing horse this way and that to carve a space between himself and the crowd.

"By order of his Royal Highness, Vanquisher of the Five Realms, Master of slaves and freepeoples, the God and King of Agraria, each town is to offer up 1/3 of its final harvest to the glory of the kingdom -"

Fawn felt a jolt of lightning strike her heart as she heard Thomas' kingly names, a deep and visceral sensation flooding through her that was somewhere between pure reverence and unbearable longing. She braced herself against Josie, her vision swimming as an icy heat flushed through her.

"What is it Finny", Josie turned towards her intently, her face creased in worry.

"I - I'm fine" she uttered, wetting her lips nervously.

"Fawn, are you sure? You're pale...you look like you may be sick."

Fawn's faltering response was drowned out as cries of indignation and panic rose up from the crowd, threatening to eclipse the messenger's speech.

"I said silence!" he roared, wrestling the reigns of his horse as it paced nervously amongst the jostling throng. "Unrest will be met with swift and vengeful punishment! Dissent will be met with swift and vengeful punishment! Let it be known that any who defy the Godking will be met with the iron fist of his wrath!'

Fawn blanched, her breathing growing more rapid and shallow. The air around her felt close with agitation and the threat of violence. What was this? These could not be Thomas' orders...he would never harm a helpless being...

What if you're wrong, Fawn? his voice rose up suddenly in her memory. What if this is who I am?

She dismissed the thought uneasily.

Despite the severity of the messenger's threats, panicked murmers continued to build. Fawn looked around her at the old and weather-worn faces in the crowd. The crops were only just recovering from the Godking wars, and many men had not returned. Windemere could not meet this demand, even she knew it

From the corner of her eye, she glanced Teodric, the pig farmer, pushing forward through the masses.

"Don't..." she whispered in dread, as he turned to face the king's men, his face entreating.

"Please good sirs, Windemere is a poor town. It is impossible to make that yield. We will die when winter comes!"

The messenger stiffened as the man spoke, his mouth twitching as if his hand had touched some vile thing.

"How thoughtful of you to share such information," he sneered. "Not to worry. The Godking is a merciful master. As your village cannot meet the entirety of his demand, you will send a tribute to cover what is owed. You there", he gestured to a pretty young girl beside the farmer. With horror Fawn recognized Tana, Teodric's only daughter. "You will be given up as slave to the Godking to pay off the debt."

The young woman's face went deathly pale, her mouth widening like a gutted fish. "No, no, please" she sputtered pitifully, eyes flashing entreatingly between her father and the crowd of villagers who had gone eerily silent in terror. "Papa, they cannot do this, can they? Papa!"

Her father grabbed her to him, his face contorting in panic.

"Take her," the messenger ordered, his features expressionless, as if he had seen such scenes many times before.

"No! Please!"

"We are done here. Perhaps this will be a lesson to you all to keep your filthy mouths shut."

She shrieked as the guards drew their swords, anger and fear coursing through the crowd as the men urged their horses forward. There was going to be a bloodbath.

"I will go!"

A thin, girlish voice rose sharply above the chaos. Tense silence descended over the crowd as all eyes turned to Fawn.

"What are you doing, Fin," Josie's voice was shrill in panic, almost hysterical.

"I will go in her stead."

The messenger turned to her, his beady eyes narrowing. "How chivalrous of you", he mocked. Driving his horse forward, he threaded through the stunned villagers, leaning over the saddle to grasp Fawn's face roughly between his bony fingers. "Such a sweet little thing" he whispered as he looked her over. "I'm sure the Godking will find good use for you. And when he's done, perhaps we can all have a turn. That is, if there's anything left."

Fawn shuddered as she smelled the staleness on his breath.

"Bind her hands!"

Author's Note II

Welcome back friends! If you haven't noticed yet, the second half of this story is going to be darker than the first, so strap in!

Hope you all had a great summer vacation! Mine ended with a pretty special surprise! ^-^