Cities by the Stream

Nala lived in a small cottage on the edge of a forest, close to the stream that divided two kingdoms. She grew flowers and vegetables and was loved by every living thing around her. Including the handsome prince who watched her through the trees crossed the stream.  How he longed to cross the stream and speak to her. But his father’s kingdom ended at the stream and it had long been told that anyone who crossed could never come back.
         So, every day at dawn the prince rode from the palace city to the stream. There he waited every day for Nala to come to the stream.  Twice a day she walked from her cottage to the stream and collects two buckets of water. Nala knew, of course, that the prince watched her from the trees across the stream and wondered why he would not cross and speak to her.  But she had no fear of him and collected her buckets of water without regard to his presence.  Often she sang because she knew it pleased him.  Sometimes he sang also, though Nala suspected he did not realize it.  Then each day at dusk, after she’d collected water for the second time he would leave and go back to where ever he had come from.  Nala often waited and watched him ride away, though he did not know it for she was much better at not being seen than he was.  When he had gone Nala walked back to her cottage, smiling to herself.  She knew when she collected her water the next day he would be there.  Someday, she hoped one of them would have the courage to cross the dainty stream.
Now, you may be wondering who has time to sit by a stream all day waiting for a woman to appear. You see King John, though he was a kind man and well loved as a ruler, he was a bit preoccupied and well, quite frankly was a bit of a bumbler.  And if you are not sure what I mean by that, think of the kindest, most gentle person you know then make them clumsy but well meaning and add a dash of forgetfulness and you are getting close to King John.  King John’s kingdom had known peace for as long as anyone alive could remember.  There were many stories and tales of great hero’s and their deeds. Like any such tale there was much conflict and unrest, but these were tales of the past.  And though the present did not make for exciting tales, it did make for a nice time to live in.  People in the palace city were quite happy, indeed.  The King did not oppress them or tax them unfairly.  He did not live in opulence while the people lived in squallier.  Indeed, the royal family felt it was everyone’s job to make the kingdom run smoothly and as a result everyone worked hard to do so.
Anyway, King John did often wonder at his son’s daily rides and meant each day to ask him.  But one thing led into another then something else and back again.  So, it’s quite understandable that by the time the prince rode back in each night all questions slipped the King’s mind.
And so, days past like this for some time.  The prince left each day at sun up and returned each night just in time for the evening meal.  And though all wondered at his absence, if the King did not question him, why should they?  Finally, one evening, the Queen could bear it no longer.  She had her suspicions of what was keeping her son each day, but he had not shared anything with her and she was not used to her children keeping things from her.  At dinner, she asked what everyone wanted to know.
“My son, where have you been all day? Surely, it must be fascinating to consume so much of your time.”
The King looked up from his plate and was about to say “Yes, I’d quite like to know that myself,” but saw his son’s embarrassment and instead said “Now, my dear, Phillip will tell us in his own time, let him be.”
But Phillip’s flush gave him away, and his sister was not about to let it go.  “Yes, Phillip, tell us about the fascinating creature you spy on near the stream everyday.”
Phillip turned redder still; he did not know how Kelsey could possibly know this. 
“It’s a woman, isn’t it? Come, my son, what is her name? Do we know her? Oh, I’m sure she is simply enchanting!” His mother began excitedly.  She had long hoped for the day the prince would fall in love.
“No, Mother, you do not know her. In fact, I do not know her.  She lives across the stream beyond the woods and I am afraid to cross it.  Though, she is enchanting.  She has deep red hair and I’m sure her eyes are the color of emeralds.  But I know little else about her other than she sings beautifully.”
Phillip flushed again. It felt good to be relieved of this secret, though he did not share that his biggest fear was speaking to her.  What if he fell in love with her?  Neither could cross the stream and it would end up being a doomed love.  Still, it felt like he was no longer bearing a burden, though he was sure it would distress his Mother and Father.  But his father seemed to be thinking of something else and his mother merely smiled and said, “Well, my son, sometimes tiny streams can be the hardest to cross.”

Nala’s small cottage was nestled close the stream that divided two kingdoms, but she was on the side of the stream that belonged to King Marcus.  Now, King Marcus had not been King for very long.  He was mildly disliked by most of his people but he was not cruel or heartless, just young and they hoped for great things in him.  He was, however, vain and a bit selfish.  And his kingdom and the kingdom of King John have had a long feud.  One that stood for centuries and now no one lives who remembers what it was truly about. Oh, there are rumors, myths and legends, of course. Stories that it was over gold or land or the love of a woman or the murder of somebody’s brother are still told in local taverns when gossip has run short. Each story ends with the destruction of the other kingdom and the triumph of the kingdom telling the tale.  Each claiming the land on the other side of the stream has been cursed by the gods to ensure that no other power would rise to challenge their king again and all those who crossed could never return home again.
And now both kingdoms prospered and it was a closely guarded secret that the other endured; a secret that could stay hidden as far as Marcus was concerned.  Though, his father and King John had long tried to find a way to reconcile the kingdoms, Marcus felt this was an unnecessary endeavor.  His kingdom was doing just fine and most of his people seemed happy enough.  Not that he truly cared.  As long as he could go on doing as he liked the world could go on doing, as it liked.
Marcus had never felt any great love for his land or people; that was his father’s domain.  But he certainly did love the luxuries being royalty afforded him. He had hoped his father would live long enough for Marcus to marry and produce a son. (Though he had never been terribly interested in that either.) Then, perhaps the whole king business could just skip him.  In his youth, Marcus would fantasize that a long lost older brother would appear and he would become king and Marcus could go on being a prince.
Now, of course, at the age of twenty-eight, Marcus knew both these hopes had been ridiculous. And when his father passed six months ago, Marcus grieved for a man who loved his land and people with all his heart and still managed to find room to love his son.  Though, they shared so little, Marcus knew his father loved him and it was this and nothing else that drove Marcus to be a good king.  Though, many times he failed. Marcus just wasn’t used to thinking about anyone else.  Sometimes he succeeded and this gave his people hope that their mild dislike for a vain and selfish prince would turn into love for a kind and gentle king.
So, this was the kingdom in whose shadow Nala lived.  She rarely went inside the palace city walls.  It was a big bustling marketplace and she did not like the crowds.  But some days, when Nala felt particularly alone, its call was irresistible. It gets lonely with not but plants and woodland creatures to keep her company, and this is not a fairy tale in which the rabbits talk.
Today would be a day when loneliness would overcome her.  Nala felt particularly alone after gather her two buckets of water in the morning.  Why would this handsome young man not cross the stream and talk with her?  Surely, the tales were not true.  Had he crossed the stream and now he was curse and could not cross back?  How did he know he could not? She had never seen him try.
In loneliness and frustration Nala grabbed her emerald green cloak from its hook and walked towards the city walls.  Once inside the crowds in the marketplace swallowed her.  Though no one knew her or even noticed her, she felt her loneliness melting away. She walked the length of the market, stopping to examine the jewelry this person sold or the colorful fabric that person sold. When she came to the fruit cart she selected a particularly ripe apple and traded a coin for coin purse for it.
She stopped by a tree to enjoy her apple.  People passed her by, taking no notice of her, except for a small group of little girls who smiled brightly at her.  This was often the way these trips went.  No one noticed her, yet the presence of people around her was the fastest cure for loneliness she knew of.  It helped that the young girls of the village seemed enchanted by her and often smiled at her or offered her flowers.  Though, sometimes the children made her ache for a different kind of life.  Suddenly, the marketplace came alive with shouts and cheers.  Nala could not see who it was but it was apparent someone very important was passing through the market.

King Marcus was actually fond of riding through the marketplace.  Regardless, of how they felt about him people always cheered and shouted.  Men stood in awe and reverence; women clapped and waved; children danced and stopped to give him flowers. Marcus loved it and rarely thought about how he would be greeted if he were not king.
Marcus might not have noticed her if the group of little girls hadn’t started to cheer and run toward the street.  Marcus quickly halted his horse to allow the girls room to pass in front of him. When he looked up from the crowd he saw her by the tree.
She had flowing red hair and striking green eyes.  Her emerald green cloak was wrapped around a lavender dress.  She smiled at him and continued to eat her apple.  She did not seem to know who he was or why the crowd shouted for him, and that, to Marcus, was the most intoxicating thing about her.
“Your Highness,” one of the little girls shouted, jolting Marcus as if waking him from a dream.  She wanted to hand him a tulip.  He took the delicate flower and smiled at the girl. 
“Thank you,” Marcus said.  The girl blushed at the acknowledgement. “Little Miss, can you tell me who that woman over there is?” he gestured toward Nala who had turned her back to the gathering crowd.
“I do not know, Your Highness. She comes to the marketplace now and again. Sometimes she buys fruit.  Once she bought a pretty jewel from my father, she wears it around her neck always. My Nana says she is certainly the last of the fairy people who lived in the forest.  Whoever she is she does not live within the palace city walls,” the child said.
Marcus patted her head and gave her a coin.  The little girl beamed, knowing the king thought well of her and she ran off.  When Marcus turned back to the woman by the tree she was gone.
Nala had had her fill of the crowds and walked back to the cottage.  She had work to do and it would soon be time to make her second trip to the stream. Nala busied herself in her garden and thought about the man on the white horse. He too was handsome and she wondered why the crowd reacted to him so.  He was obviously well known and he wore such fine cloths.  What would make him so important? She did not know but he also chose not to speak with her.  Instead he gained his information from the child who gave him the tulip.
Nala grabbed her two empty buckets and walked towards the stream.  As she walked she thought about what it would be like to not be alone.  Her people had once thrived in this forest and in other areas across the land.  That was before the kingdoms had become divided and they had been happy to be unnoticed and left alone.  The stories her Grandmother told had been wonderful adventures.  Traveling across the lands to visit others like them, to accomplish great deeds and save fair maidens.  Nana told her one day to go in search of them, for somewhere there must be more of their kind.
Years ago, when her grandmother faded into the mist, Nala believed she would go soon.  There was nothing tying her to the small cottage now.  Why should she not go and find others like her? But fear set in and kept her from risking the unknown.  Fear of being lost, fear of not knowing where to go and fear of finding nothing at all.
Nala sat down by the bank of the stream. She felt rather saw the handsome young man.  As she ran her fingers over her reflection in the water, Nala made a decision to never go unnoticed again.