La Nocturne

In an instant, Elaine's face was burning and she could feel a livid blush blooming over her face. That can't be attractive, she thought by reflex, but this thought was quickly supplanted by a more pressing one - how on earth was she going to explain why she was at a country fair dressed in a coachman's costume?

"Oh, I - erm - I can explain, you see," she quickly said, making a dreadful mess of her words. "You see, I was - we were - driving along in our carriage, and - and we passed by a stream with some children playing on the bank. But all of a sudden, one of the little ones fell in the stream, and he didn't know how to swim, and none of the others could either, it looked like, because everyone started crying for help. And, oh, it was terrible, seeing the poor thing floundering in the water, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd run out of the coach and waded into the stream with all my clothes on. I saved the child and brought him back to shore, but once I set him down, he and the others started laughing like a bunch of crows, and I finally realized it had been a joke at my expense.

"Well, I was completely soaked and of course hadn't brought an extra set of clothes, so our coachman suggested I wear a spare suit of his that he happened to keep in a personal compartment within the carriage. My mother, naturally, was scandalized at this idea, and Father put his foot down and said he wouldn't have it. But I reminded them that I would surely catch a cold if I kept my soaked clothes on, so they had to agree. They told me to stay in the carriage until they were finished with their purchases - for I couldn't be seen dressed the way I was - but Lord knows that will take hours. I was getting so bored sitting in the carriage, and I wanted to walk about for a bit, and besides - I've never been to a market fair before. I suppose my restlessness got the best of me."

Elaine caught her breath, completely surprised at such a story being able to come out of her. Joseph was staring at her with a look of mixed awe and disbelief. "An extraordinary story, Miss Fellerton," he murmured. "It certainly was terribly brave of you to rescue that child. Even if it had just been a prank. You are an inordinately brave young woman, I noticed."

Elaine blushed again. "I, brave? Surely you jest, Master Sinclair. In what ways am I brave?"

"Why, jumping in a stream to save a child you thought was drowning, of course!" Elaine looked away at this, for she had already forgotten all of her hasty lies. "And," Joseph continued, "Disobeying your parents, and venturing among society dressed in a coachman's garb. And also - " his voice softened, and Elaine looked back at him - "losing a sister."

At the memory of Aria, Elaine suddenly lost her breath again. "Oh! Forgive me, Miss Fellerton," Joseph quickly said. "I shouldn't have said such. I know you are grieving. I am too."

"It is no matter," Elaine said quietly.

"You know, you remind me quite a bit of Aria," Joseph told her.

"Really? How?" Elaine asked, greatly surprised by this comparison. "I should think we were quite opposites!"

"Well, you're both brave, for one. And strong, and free-willed. And neither of you are afraid to be different."

"Oh, I am none of that," Elaine mumbled, flattered but disbelieving at such words. "Least of all brave or strong. Ever since Aria left, I always want to cry, but I always must remind myself not to, if I want to appear a lady and not a child. I think of her so much, and then I don't know what to do, because everything is empty without her. It's like she put the color in all the world, and the harmonies in music, and the scent in flowers, and the taste in food. And now that she's gone, all of that's gone too; none of it means anything."

"I know what you mean," said Joseph. "Sometimes I'll wake up with the names I picked for our children that I never told her about in my head, and I feel heavy enough to make this humble planet the center of all the universe with such gravity. It is like, even when it's fair outside, it's still cloudy. Even if there were a parade in the streets, it would still be a funeral procession."

Elaine began to cry, hiding her face behind her hands. She felt hands lifting her own away from her face, and looked up at Joseph. He was weeping as well. "Don't always feel like you must hide, Elaine."

Elaine suddenly realized he was still holding her hands within his own. "But it comes in useful when one is trying to keep others from realizing one is not actually a coachman."

Joseph laughed at this, happiness momentarily lighting his face, but he soon became serious again. "You have a very good point. What do you say, then, to retreating for a walk among the hills, Miss Fellerton?"

"Gladly, Master Sinclair," Elaine replied.

They walked on to the hills, gently rolling and carpeted with high, rustling grass. There they strolled for a while, not speaking. Elaine wasn't bothered by this - they didn't need to speak to understand. After some time had passed, they suddenly realized that the land had leveled out into a flat plain. In the distance, however, the hills continued on, so it was really sort of like a dry lake-bed, except still carpeted with grass. In the center of this hollow was a single hill.

"Why, that's curious," Joseph remarked.

"Curious indeed," Elaine murmured, walking toward the hill. Joseph looked at her, and followed, though a bit hesitantly.

Once Elaine reached the solitary hill, she walked round it until she arrived at a rough wooden door. Her legs seemed to know exactly where to go, and her mind complied without question. In the back of her head, she knew precisely what she was doing, and what she wanted, but she could not and would not admit it to herself.

Joseph came up next to her. "Why, that's even more curious!" he exclaimed. "Do you suppose we've entered Wonderland?"

"I don't know," Elaine replied. "We might have." And Elaine watched as her hand reached up and shook a string of small, strangely shaped bells hung by the door.