One With The Flame

One With The Flame

A Chapter by Ariana

Chapter Two

           

            One With the Flame

 

            When Rika and James had passed Theresa’s tent, it had begun to get dark. When it was dark enough that they could no longer see, but were not yet tired. Rika smiled devilishly and held up a sparkler; this one was home made. Rika had picked it up as she passed a small booth, and the seller gave it to her, free of charge. She had never understood how they were made, but always was fascinated by them. She always carried one wither her, and she had bought this one at a stall in the main camp. James smiled back at her, and took a match out of his coat pocket. He struck against something that Rika didn’t see, and met the tip of the sparkler with the flame. It lit up instantly and Rika laughed.

            The constant whooping and hollering of the people at the main camp provided enough energy to make Rika and James run all the way back; they were starting a dance when they finally reached camp. Tamara was dancing with someone, and Celeste was playing the flute. James then turned to Rika and offered his hand. “Would you like to dance, Madame Rika?”

            “I would.” She replied politely, taking his hand. They walked to where the dances were. The dance started out slow, but the music soon grew happier and faster, and they had to switch from the slow dance to a dance that Rika’s village called the ‘Χορόςαπότιςφλόγες’, which meant the Dance of the Flames. The dance involved everyone, dancing in a circle, constantly side stepping. There was a lot of clapping and twirling for the women and the men didn’t as much; they clapped, and moved in a circle with them. When the ‘duo’ part came, the men picked the women up by the waist and spun them in a circle twice; during this time, Rika closed her eyes and waited to be set back down. When she finally was, her eyes stayed closed and she danced.

            When the music stopped, Rika clapped once and stopped dancing, perfectly in tune. She opened her eyes and everyone was laughing and cheering and hugging their dancing partners. James looked at her astounded. “Well, I must say miss, I never thought you to be the type to dance so well.” He smiled at her while saying this.

            “Looks are deceiving.” She says. She wondered if he thought she would be quite and shy; that was certainly the opposite of what she was on the inside. Here, in the Circus, she felt… at home.

            “Yes, I suppose they really are.” James says, taking her hand once again and leading her away. Rika’s eyes twinkled when he led her slowly back to the caravans. The soft, green grass felt cool on her warm, tired feet. Some spots were wet with dew from yesterdays rain, and when she stepped on one of those places, she tried to stand there longer to let it cool her feet. She wished for a cold bath, to cool her down, but she knew that the likeliness of that happening were slim.

            She realized how ate it was when she yawned. She could suddenly barely keep her eyes open. James looked back just as she was covering her mouth to stifle yet another yawn, and he snickered, smiling. “Tired, milady?”

            Rika smirked at him. “It’s been a long day.” She was glad when they finally reached her caravan; she didn’t think she could make it up those large steps!

            When James saw her hesitate, he grabbed her under the shoulders and then bent down and grabbed her under the legs. She yelped in surprise as she was hoisted into the air and then carried into the caravan. “James!” She shouted distastefully; it certainly wasn’t proper for a man to do that to a woman who he was not married to.

            “Yes?” He asked, setting her down on the bed. Her bed was decorated with soft blue satin, and starch white pillows.

            She clucked her tongue before standing up and pushing him towards the small door. “I think you and I both know how impolite that was.” James sighed audibly and stepped down the wide stairs.

            “I was only trying to help!” He protested.

            “Well, next time, ask.” She said, smiling. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Now, goodnight.” She shooed him away.

 

            Rika slipped off her earrings after James left, and her necklace. She undid her hair, took off her wrap, and slid the silver and shiny bangles off of her wrist. She looked in the mirror and, with a wet rag she had taken from another gypsy, whipped all the light makeup off of her face. When she was finished, she looked like Rika again. She looked like plain Rika, or Ana as she had been called at home to symbolize her royal-origin name Rikanna, and not the fancy and fabulous Madame Rikanna.

            She walked to the small closet she had been given and drew out a silky white nightdress. It had long sleeves with lace cuffs, and a squared neckline that was also embroidered with a delicate lace. It was quite short, but it was soft and warm. She slid off her skirt and her lovely blouse, her corset and her shoes, and then pulled the dress on over her head.

            She pulled the satin sheets away from the bed, and then sat delicately on top of the small bed. She then pulled the blankets back over her, letting the soothing warmth pull her into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

                                                                        ***

 

            A sharp noise awoke Rika from her dreamless slumber. In her groggy and tired state, she thought it must have been only her imagination. But no, there was another sharp noise. She then knew it was coming from her window. She sat up and reached over into her closet, pulling out a red, lacey robe. It had satin ties, and the neckline, which was plunging and didn’t help the low squared neckline of the nightdress, was lacey and see-through. She pulled it on and then stood up to look out her window.

            There was a figure outside; it was to dark outside to tell whether it was a male or female, but it was definitely there. She quickly tied the strings that held her robe closed, and then opened the small door. She took three small steps and was then on the green grass outside her caravan. She turned to where the person stood. Now she could see clearly; it was Tamara. She smiled, her bright pink lips now held a solid black color from the lipstick she was using. She looked dressed up; with a short skirt that went only to about mid thigh, low cut shirts with a wooden bead embroider around the sleeves and neckline, and many bracelets around both wrists. Her hair was done up in ringlets.

            “Tamara? Why are you so dressed up?” Rika had many other questions, but as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she realized she was really too tired to ask them.

            “That doesn’t matter at the moment. What does matter is that Madame Teresa wants you to go to her tent as soon as you can. Apparently, there is someone…special here to see you.” Tamara grinned; there was a small part of Rika that thought her smile was a tad bit sinister, but she pushed the though from her mind.

            “Thank you Tamara, I shall go as soon as I get dressed.” Rika said politely, adding a small smile. She really wanted to go back to sleep, but if Teresa wanted to see her, she had to obey. Tamara curtsied very lightly, and then strutted off to a small tent.

            Rika watched her, agitated. Had she done something wrong? Who was the person here to see her? Why had Tamara not given any details? And the most important question: Why was Tamara so dressed up at this early in the morning? The questions swam through Rika’s tired head as she climbed restlessly back up the stairs and into the caravan, and over to her closet.

 



© 2012 Ariana


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This is really good! The plot was such a cool idea. Maybe it's too early to say, but I'm rather jealous of Rika's position right now (surrounded by cool people in a circus). Keep going! I'll keep reading! x

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Ariana

8 Years Ago

Oh, thank you so much!

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Added on October 15, 2012
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Ariana
Ariana

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