Marigolds

Christian.

Who are you?

Christian.

Where are you?

Silence. Christian sighed. The breath escaped and twisted itself into an image of a marigold. It hovered there a moment and then the air faded into its surroundings. It was cold, but Christian didn't feel cold. He couldn't feel anything in this strange field. It was beautiful, ageless. Snow lay on orange marigolds, frost licked their petals. It was almost as if its beauty had been frozen and allowed to stay perfect forever, unmarred and unchanged by time.

Christian.

He laughed. Was that all the voice could say? If so, he didn't mind. It was such a beautiful voice. It sounded like silver bells, tolling through his ears. The voice gave him comfort. As it whispered his name he didn't feel alone. He was always alone. He was always locked away, all alone, looking for someone to call out to him. He wanted someone to call out to him and be there, to need him.

Christian.

What's your name?

Christian.

That's my name.

Christian.

Chris smiled. Perhaps he'd just go take a look at whom that voice belonged to, if they refused to tell him. He sat up. Or at least he tried to. He felt like he was moving through molasses. It was thick and he couldn't move his feet more than half an inch. Even that was a great feat only accomplished after much struggles. In the end he laughed and gave up. So what if the voice didn't want to be seen? He was content to just listen. That was until he heard the voice's next words.

Christian, help me.

~*Marigold*~~Marigold*~~*Marigold*~

They found Christian cross-legged in the corner of his room. He was fingering his pendant looking thoughtful. But the twins didn't care what their brother was thinking about. Their father had sent them to get Christian. Their father had looked angry. The twins didn't like that look.

Marriage. It had seemed like such an odd concept when they were children, but now they were grown up. Teddy and Harry were married. Their older brother, heir to the throne, was not. To their father, that was unacceptable.

Christian didn't care though. Anyone could see that about him. Sure, he acted charming and polite to the ladies who came to the court hoping for his hand in marriage, but there was no spark in his eyes. To him they were simply one to talk to. None had ever made his heart soar.

"You know brother-"

"-we've been thinking."

"Are you into men?" Teddy and Harry chorused. It was the only logical conclusion their combined twin brains could come up with.

Christian glared venomously at both of them before looking back down at his pendant. A lack of acknowledgment appeared to be his best defence right now.

"Well in that case-"

"-you should pick a-"

"-lady's woman," Again they chorused the last piece of their sentence. They were both completing sentences together. They knew Christian hated when they did that.

"That way you could have your man-"

"-she her woman-"

"-and neither of you could get angry and murder each other for cheating since you wouldn't be into each other!"

"Of course you could always get-"

"-a man that likes both men and women and have a threesome-"

"-but that would be unholy!" They cackled in unison and sat down, one on each side of Christian. They scooted in closer to him and crushed him between their shoulders. "Unholy! Unholy!" They cackled and tickled his neck and pulled his ears.

Chris was truly a creature of great talent. It'd been about two minutes since the twins had entered his room and for the most part he'd been able to ignore them. Of course, this infuriated them. They resorted to the dog pile.

"Ugh!" Christian huffed as the twins tried to crush him with their combined weight. He struggled to free himself, but Teddy managed to get him into an arm lock.

"Surrender man's man!"

"GET OFF!"

"You heard him, Teddy! Christian is very-"

"-DELICATE!" More cackling followed. Christian thought they sounded like two

witches who got turned into frogs, turned back into witches and still retained a distinct croak in their voices. Perhaps it was just late puberty?

"I'm not in the mood," Christian said bluntly. Teddy and Harry looked at each other and to Chris's surprise they stopped their taunting and sat silently. It was unheard of for the twins to be quiet! Was this perhaps a trap? If it was, he didn't care. He had something else on his mind.

Teddy then spoke up, "Pray tell dear brother, is something perhaps on your mind? Did you foresee in your dreams the apocalypse or the he-maiden of your dreams?"

There was no cackling this time and it took a moment for Christian to realise that Teddy was being caring in his own messed up way. He could feel Harry's gaze on his back. Christian was suddenly reminded of mother bears looking after their young. It was a very odd image, but one he could not get out of his mind.

"Actually, there is something on my mind, many things actually, but there is one that shouts out at me. It's forcing me to scrutinize it, to look for an answer to a question that I haven't any idea the nature of."

"Well, that seems a problem."

"Is there anything we could do to help?" Christian looked to Harry who he often thought to be the more caring twin. Their eyes met, but nothing passed between them. The twins knew each other inside and out, but neither they nor Christian could breach that wall of difference that separated Chris from his brothers.

"Perhaps there is. I don't know. Father sent you for me, didn't he? Another lady come to speak sweet words to me?" Christian rose to his feet and began heading towards the wooden double doors.

"Well if you must know-"

"-she is a beautiful lady come from the North."

"She loves flowers!" Both had returned to their previous attitudes.

"It's rather creepy. Is it not, Harry?"

"T'is indeed, Teddy! Why, she could go on for days about the different sub species of a rose!"

"She could tell you why they smell as they do!"

"She could explain the cross-breeding of two species of flowers!"

"But she could also-"

"Bore you into crying a river!" They cackled in unison.

"But you must admit that her telling of plant sex is quite intriguing. Why, with the help of the bees it's like the flower is having a threesome with the bee, itself and itself!"

"That's lovely, Teddy."

~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~

Teddy and Harry had been right. The lady was beautiful and she was obsessed with flowers. Christian didn't mind though. He hated having to start conversations with people that he had nothing in common with. At least with Amarantha, that was the lady's name, he hardly had to volunteer a word. She would go on talking about flowers happily with him nodding his head or smiling every once in a while. That gave him time to think about the dream he had had.

Someone somewhere needed his help. They needed him. That thought left him light headed and somewhat pleased. He then felt bad. Why should he feel good about someone's distress? Maybe it was just that it made him feel like he belonged. That he had a reason to exist. It was a wonderful feeling, to know one existed for a purpose.

But what was of those marigolds? They'd been everywhere in his dream, his breath, the field itself. If he wanted to help this person he should know what the marigolds symbolised. He thought hard about it, but came up with a blank. Weren't different flowers meant to symbolise different things?

"Oh! Morning glories! Don't you just love morning glories? They symbolise affection you know!"

Christian felt stupid, but he let the feeling pass as quick as it had come and pounced on Amarantha's knowledge of flowers. "I love morning glories! But I'm afraid I love marigolds more. Their colour is so rich!" Christian stopped walking and so did Amarantha. She looked delighted by his sudden outburst of conversation.

"Oh! I just adore marigolds! You know how they came to be named? Mary's gold because the poor offered them to the Virgin Mary since they could not afford actual gold. Such an interesting history is it not? Marigolds also symbolise passion and creativity!" Amarantha paused to push some golden hair out of her face, "They are also known as the "Herb of the Sun" and have been used as love charms! Used in wedding garlands and such. Oh, I almost forgot! In some cultures marigolds are added to pillows to encourage prophetic or psychic dreams! Intriguing is it not?"

"Quite so, Lady Amarantha," Christian digested this new information. Perhaps the marigolds represented more than he thought about the person who required help. The poor gave them as gifts. Could the one needing his help be a peasant? The prophetic or psychic dreams part seemed to hint that his dream might just be more than a dream, but he'd already had a feeling about that part. Besides, Miss Corbin, before she'd been wed and moved to a far off village, had always told him dreams revealed much about oneself and shouldn't be taken with a light heart.

The wind blew softly through the garden Amarantha and he strolled through and blew the cherry blossoms from their branches. They swirled and danced like pink snowflakes and by the time they'd fallen Christian had made up his mind. That evening he would ride out to the nearest village and no one would be able to change his mind about the matter.

~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~~*Marigold*~

"Come on Phil. You like carrots don't you?"

This was not going how Christian had planned. The stables where being carefully guarded for some unfathomable reason and the only horse he could get near was an old and dappled grey named Phil. Phil had a great hatred of Chris and rolled his hairy lips back over his teeth and neighed his quiet disapproval.

Christian cursed. Why did the world have to be cruel to him right now? He had a place to go, a person to meet and here was the most uncooperative horse well, not cooperating. Phil neighed again and nipped Chris's shoulder. He jumped back and cursed again before waving the carrot in front of Phil's eyes.

"Here horsey, horsey. I'm your friend. See?"

Phil glanced at the swinging carrot, Christian, the swinging carrot. He made up his mind and reached out to chomp at the orange delight. He didn't buck Chris off when he climbed up his stirrups. At least for the moment they had a faint friendship.

And so they went galloping down the old cobblestone road to the village. Christian didn't want them to be seen, so he took the less used path. It twisted and turned through the forest and branches tore at his clothing. He didn't mind. He'd begged some commoner cloths from one of the servants and a few rips wouldn't hurt. He'd also begged some food which he'd put in a burlap sack along with a few copper pennies to pay for a room in an inn for the night. He couldn't stay down in the village too long. A few trusted servants had been told of his departure and they'd been instructed to tell whosoever questioned that the prince was locked away in his study working on his latest invention. That excuse would stop most people, but not his father.

The shadows lengthened, a sign of the approaching night, and by the time Christian reached the village the sun was just beginning to set. He sat on Phil in awe for several moments at the edge of the dwellings. Gold, orange and pink streaked the sky and cast a soft glow on the land beneath. It was a marvellous sight.

But one cannot appreciate a marvellous sight for ever. Christian pulled at his horse's reigns and they trotted at a leisurely place to the village inn. A stable boy helped him tuck Phil into a little slot at the far end of the stables. Phil protested the whole while. Chris slipped the stable boy a copper penny before making his way into the inn itself.

He hated the place immediately, simply for the foreignness of it all. The people were loud and rowdy, drinking mugs of ale after they long should have had their last and hairy men trying to take a peek under the wenches' skirts. Christian crinkled his nose, but quietly made his way to the bar where the innkeeper stood polishing bottles of wine.

"I'd like a hot meal and a please to stay, good sir."

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, "Awrfully smart speakin' ain't ch'you boy? Ah hog's breath, I's ain't gonna question ya. Be three copper."

Christian handed over the coins and took one of the seats along the bar. The innkeeper handed him an old brass key.

"Se'ond floor, door numbe' three. Gots that boy?"

"Yes, thank you," Christian dropped the sir. The innkeeper didn't raise an eyebrow this time, but Chris could see it was a hard feat.

The time slowly trickled by for Christian as he waited for his meal. He took the time to observe the behaviour of the common folk. So far he'd determined that they had their own special way of saying certain words and stringing sentences together. He doubted he'd be able to properly use their form of speaking so he vowed to say as little as possible. Eventually his meal, steaming stew and bread, arrived.

Christian ate it slowly. It didn't taste all that bad. It lacked the variety of flavours he was used to and the meat was rather lacking, but the stew satisfied him. The bread was a bit tough though. After he finished eating he took some more time to do some quiet observation. He soon realised near everyone was drinking a mug of ale. He was not. He ordered one and paid the half-penny. Sipping the drink slowly, he'd heard of the men who drank too much and lost their tongues, he continued his watching of the common folk.

Sometime after he had begun his watching, he noticed a dark haired wench across the room. She was very beautiful, he decided. He kept most of his focus on her for the next several minutes and was shocked when a hairy, drunken man grabbed her arm and tried to kiss her. She squealed and tried to push him away from her. He and his companions laughed and continued to taunt her. Christian could feel the pressure in his veins increase and he clenched his fist. He hadn't yet thought a second by the time he'd crossed the room and grabbed at the drunken man's arm.

"Whaddaya think you doin', boy?" The drunken man yelled at him swinging his arm toward Chris's face. It connected with Christian's jaw and his head swung around. He could taste blood. Hands squeeze around his neck and he was lifted about an inch off the ground. Chris dangled there a moment before swinging his foot into the man's weak place. It was an underhanded move, but Chris doubted the common folk cared about that sort of thing. The man let go of his grip around Christian's neck and doubled over. Making good use of the following confusion, Christian grabbed the dark haired wench's arm and dragged her to safety. He didn't expect what happened next.

"Let go of me!" An elbow connected hard with his stomach and pain erupted from the blow. Shocked and in pain, all Christian could do was watch the beautiful dark haired wench flee from him and up the stairs on the far side of the room. Something deep inside him felt heavy. Was it his heart? He didn't know, so he walked back to his seat with lead feet.

As Christian lowered himself onto his chair, the innkeeper spoke up, "She don' like people touchin' her ya'see? She odd likes that. Pro'lly gonna have to let her go if she keeps actin' up likes that."

"What's her name?" Christian couldn't keep his gaze from the stairs she'd only moments before fled up.

"Marigold. Why ya wanna know?"

**Please, no one take offense at Teddy's and Harry's comments on gayness. I have nothing against gay people.**

I cannot apologise enough for my lack of updates so I have updated within the two weeks promised! YAY! Anyway, I was in a good mood from massive book shopping yesterday and finished this chapter. The fact that final exams are over with might've helped too. =D

I would still appreciate facts from the book. Thanks to CrazyDyslexicNerd I've been able to recall the basic story idea, but there are some small facts I'd like clarified such as the triplet's names and Marigold's parents' names.

Sorry, this chapter is a bit shorter than I originally meant for it to be. .

Thank you if you took the time to read this chapter! ^.^