Alysia Goldenseal, Teddybear Princess, Ch.5

[shaker_e]

Armes Albrecht for decades had made a habit of doing her morning exercises in solitude as the sun rose, alone in the training hall. Her routine was simple – following the motions of battle. Swing. Thrust. Parry. Lunge. Backswing. Step. All of them were executed with excruciating slowness, however, while holding an awkward, heavy sledgehammer – the strain of keeping the thing steady as she moved glacially from form to form made even her bulky arms tremble, and her hair and simple training garb was soaked with sweat. She was in the middle of an estrelitta when a furious voice spoke out just behind her, startling her badly enough that she nearly dropped the hammer.

              “You left me to die, Albrecht!”  

She acted on instinct and whirled, raising the weapon in a sweeping strike, but received her second shock of the morning as she found herself being stared down by the outraged eyes of the king’s Fool. Unable to stop the motion, she released the hammer, letting it whirl off to crash into a rack of training weights on the wall. The Fool didn’t flinch, carried forward with his anger, and stabbed his finger at the center of her collarbone, glaring up into her eyes. His jester’s motley was travelworn and singed, and he looked exhausted.

              “You set the inn on fire, and you left me to die! I woke up in an inferno, Albrecht! That you caused! Do you have any idea what that’s like? And after I managed to get out intact, what kind of scene awaited me? Did you lose your mind, demon? Did the bloodlust become too strong? You left the innkeeper in HALVES! What the devil happened?! Where did you go?!”

              Armes was pale with realization. “They had stolen her. They were stolen her, and I, ah… I forgot about you. My duty was too important, and I acted without thinking.” She thought back to that night – returning to her room, which she had left so briefly, only to learn that her belongings had been snatched, including her pack with its precious cargo – the Princess, hidden away. “I was ordered to-“

              Though it seemed impossible, the Fool actually managed to get even angrier. Armes actually took a step back – she didn’t know the jester had a temper at all. “You FORGOT me? In your haste to what, Albrecht!? To slaughter a few pickpockets? For swiping your precious toy? I know you threatened me to keep it secret, but I didn’t think you were truly that mad!” He snatched his belled cap on his head, twisting it in his hands. “What in all the gods names could be that important?”

              She took a steadying breath, her composure beginning to return. Heavens above, what a shock that had been. She was losing her edge. And who would have imagined he could move so silently with all those bells? She took another breath. “I will show you. Come with me, to the Princess’s chambers.”

              He didn’t agree to follow her right way, and when she finally managed to coax him into coming along, he spent the entire journey through the halls haranguing her, delivering insults cruel enough to blister. She couldn’t fault him for it. She hadn’t thought for even one moment about his fate after running to Alysia’s rescue. She accepted that enough retainers and guards had witnessed her beratement that she would simply have to live with the consequences. She raised a hand as they approached the door to her rooms, however, and he briefly paused his tirade. “What you are about to see is a secret. A secret of the Realm, not just of myself. Everyone who has borne witness must swear an oath not to reveal it to anyone who may be able to endanger the Realm, on pain of death. Do you understand?”   

              He gestured impatiently as he made the sign of the Redeemer, rapidly rattling off the customary vow, and she knocked, opening the door only after hearing the Princess’ assent. “So let’s see what’s so blasted important that you- ah, Your highness! Good morning!”

Alysia sat at the window, staring down at the town below the walls as she rested her chin in her hand. Her bear-self sat in the crook of her arm, staying still as her puppet-self turned to regard her visitor. “Oh, it’s you! Thank goodness! I was so worried, after that night at the inn!”

              The Fool approached, laughing and smiling. “Oh, you heard about that? Hahaha, the fire found my jokes in such poor taste that it wouldn’t devour me, though I-“ He froze as he drew near, though. His eyes darted to the bear, clearly recognizing it, and then back up to Alysia’s face. He stepped closer, and she shifted with a quiet rattle of wooden joints, surprised when he reached out to gently touch her wooden cheek. “You’ve been through some changes since the last time we saw each other here at the castle, haven’t you, Princess?”

              “Well, the last time we saw each other was actually that day on the road you spotted me in Armes’ bag, really…” She said with her bear-self, holding herself up and taking his hand with two small paws. “It’s been quite a year for me.”

              The Fool’s eyes were bright with wonder. “What on earth happened?” As she told him the whole story, including all of the near misses and dangers, his face – usually so expressive that each emotion seemed almost a caricature of itself – was still, as he merely listened intently, nodding at points, occasionally murmuring a quiet request for clarification. When she described the brief death of Armes and her terror in the witch’s jar, he squeezed her paw tightly. “It’s a miracle. You being here, to speak to me today, is truly a miracle. The songs they’ll sing about your journey will be incredible, when this is all behind you and the tale can be told.”

              He looked over his shoulder at Albrecht, who had taken a seat on an ornate little sofa. “I understand a bit more, now. You’re still a beast in human shape.” His expression softened slightly. “But at least you’re a loyal beast.” He sighed, and looked back to Alysia. “So! You’re blessed with two bodies now, then? Would you reward your dear Fool with a little demonstration of what you can do? I’ve never seen anything like this before, even when I toured the Magisterium.”

“Of course!” Alysia rose and gave the fool her seat, joints rattling softly as she paraded back and forth through the room, both of her bodies in unison. She danced a courtly ballroom dance with an imaginary partner, and with the slim decorative rapier she had been given ages ago by her father even fenced with the air, thrusting and parrying. “Elbow in, Alysia,” Armes murmured softly, the puppet rolling her eyes even as her expression remained carved neutrality.

              The Fool made suitably impressed noises, but as he watched intently he began to frown, and raised his hand. “You find people are uncomfortable around this form even when you disguise it carefully, don’t you? Odd looks. Confusion.”

              Alysia blinked and nodded, carefully returning the rapieer to its scabbard and tossing it carelessly onto her bed. “Yes. Even when I wore gloves to cover my hands, and hid my face behind a fan – people would get uneasy around me. Like they could sense something.”

              “I’m not surprised. You’re marvelous, truly, but…”

              “But what?”

              “You’re clearly an amateur.”

              “I beg your pardon?” both of Alysia’s voices asked, simultaneously.

              The Fool didn’t seem to notice her irritation, rubbing his chin as he thought things through. “A gifted amateur, but still. It’s not both of them, though. Your little body looks as alive as anyone has ever looked. It’s the big one. That one’s not ‘alive’ in the same way. You have to think about what you’re doing, don’t you? It’s not second nature.”

              “I- well, yes. But How can you say that? I can play cat’s cradle with it! I can knit!  I couldn’t do that before I was changed!” She sounded hurt, like a youth who’s schoolwork was being criticized. “What else could there possibly be?”

              The Fool seemed to struggle to put it into words, and finally shook his head. “I have to show you. It won’t mean anything if I don’t show it. I’ll be back in a moment – if I am permitted to leave, Albrecht? Unless you planned to throw me out of the window once you revealed this whole plot to me?”

“I don’t care for defenestration. Come and go as you like, you’re the Fool. The castle is your home. And… I’m sorry.” She bowed her head slightly in apology. The Fool merely hmphed as he passed, before jogging off with a clatter of bells.

“I can’t believe you forgot him.”

“I had to maintain my priorities! You came first!”

“In a burning building!”

“I said that I was sor-“

 They were interrupted as the Fool returned, carrying a sturdy trunk. He unlocked it and carefully removed a lovely marionette, making the Princess gasp in wonder. It was half of a matched pair, silly caricatures of a princess in pink lace and a prince with puffy sleeves and floppy hat. He carefully set the prince-puppet aside, and after smoothing her lace and gown, took up the handles of the princess-marionette.

“With puppets, you don’t just wiggle a string, and it moves,” he said, as he guided it gently in a graceful walk across the floor. “It isn’t enough to make the movement ‘right’. It needs more, if you want your audience to believe it. You have to give it the illusion of life. And that’s where you’re falling short.” He carefully tipped the handles and tugged strings, and the puppet danced, a dance just like Alysia herself had performed a little while before. Her bear-self walked closer, watching with wonder and frustration – in the Fool’s clever hands, the doll truly did seem to come to life in a way that she knew her own puppet-self didn’t. But she couldn’t understand what exactly he was doing differently.

“Every one of us from birth, though we don’t know it, is a student of human emotion. We know what it looks like, we know the universal motions of joy, of rage, of grief. And we know when something is missing, too. We might not be able to articulate why, but in our minds, we recall every time we’ve seen an emotion before, and we can tell something is lacking. To perform, you have to be more than a student. You must become a scholar.” The puppet’s dance faltered, and it stumbled, taking a few wobbly steps before sinking to its knees. Its posture hunched and it folded its hands across its chest, drawing inward, head lowering – seeming to sink into sadness so profound that Alysia raised one of her paws to comfort it almost without realizing what she was doing. “You must become a mirror that you hold up to audience, so they see their feelings reflected in you. That makes it true, that makes it real.” The puppet turned its carved wooden face up to Alysia, reaching out to touch her paw with its stiff fingers. It nodded, as if in gratitude for her kind gesture. And then in a heartbeat the fool whirled it up and away, to sprawl it carefully on a table, lifeless again.

“How? How do I do that?” Alicia’s puppet-self had risen, and took a few uncertain steps closer, the Princess suddenly very conscious of her own motions.

The Fool smiled. “I’ll teach you.”

-----

              “No, no! Do it again. Remember – you’re showing the delicate pleasure of a secret you can’t wait to reveal! It’s about what you DON’T show as much as what you do! You’re being too coarse, too blatant. I know that you know this – now show me!” Armes watched with fascination as Alysia faced the tall, expensive mirror the Fool had demanded and smoothed her dress with her wooden fingers before settling into the role. While the Fool wasn’t satisfied, it was still remarkable in the knight’s eyes as the puppet seemed to relax, and then tighten, setting her shoulders just so, her head taking a very specific set as she flicked a fan up to hide her wooden non-smile. She glanced furtively left and right, and the fingers of her free hand held a delicate curl – as if she wanted nothing more than to call for someone’s attention, to whisper in their ear. “Good, good – you’re getting there… Better. Next. Your duty calls. You are in the court, and you are to meet a dignitary of the State. You wish to convey respect, but only precisely enough, and not an ounce more – you are the future queen, after all. Do it just as you used to. Think back to that time. Feel it. That moment never ended. You are living in that moment. Now… Show me.”

              The Princess’s body language had become so much more nuanced in the last few months that the trusted handmaidens who came in the midday to keep her company had finally begun to relax in Alysia’s company, smiling more naturally and even sharing the gossip and current events of the court. Armes marveled to see Alysia laughing with them, her shoulders shaking, chest rising and falling with nonexistent breaths. Her motions on the road to the castle had been mechanical and stiff, but they had gathered new grace – easing from stillness into motion, back delicately into stillness – little secondary gestures layered onto every action bringing them to life, a skillful recreation of her unconscious manner when she was embodied in her original form. The puppet body dutifully stepped into a wardrobe any time the King had visited, but the knight now wondered if maybe she shouldn’t any longer. Soon, if one didn’t know what to look for, Alysia would be able to walk through a crowded room with no one the wiser.

              The Fool and Princess had moved on to other subjects. “I still feel foolish, sometimes, when I exaggerate my motions. What purpose does that serve?” She made a show of picking up an empty teacup and saucer, each step of the procedure done in the manner of a pantomime. She even made a slurping sound as she touched it to her carved lips.

              “In our practice, you exaggerate so that in the moment, every little part of the gesture is second nature.” The Fool mimicked her motion with his empty hands. “We take the cup, we hold it. Ah, so hot! Pinky out. We blow on the tea. We close our eyes, we inhale, we savor. That first sip – ah, the warmth fills us! A sigh of satisfaction. You’re dividing your attention two different ways. If you internalize every gesture, you don’t have to think about it anymore. Your body’s memory will take care of the details for you. Does Albrecht think every time she swings her blade?”

              “Of course I do, I’m a thoughtful woman.”

              “God hates a liar, Albrecht.”