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Alex Foster
Author of 50 Stories |
Title: en passant (yes, it's supposed to be in small letters).
Author: Alex Foster
Category: Romance
Rating: PG
Summary: Set before Majora's Mask. The son of Clock Town's mayor pays a visit to the Stock Pot Inn and meets a woman who will change his life.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Nintendo. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to a true challenge. May we all find one.
Author's Notes: This story represents a few things to me: It is my first venture into romance writing, it rises to a personal challenge to craft a story carried solely by the chemistry of the lead characters, and it is my first Majora fic. This being my first fanfiction from that game, I stewed over the characterization in this story more so than any other fic I've put out. After much debate, I crafted Kafei as a well-educated person comfortable with his roll in life, and in doing so, raised the character of Anju. If I am in error in doing that, if my characterization somehow crosses yours, please feel free to reasonably explain it to me. I had to exercise some artistic license with regards to the board game Anju and Kafei bond over. I originally was going to come up with some sort of game that would work with the setting of Majora's Mask, but had I done that, this story would be about double its length and mind numbingly dull with useless description. Lastly--let the villagers rejoice!--this story is set before the events of Majora's Mask so Kafei has yet to be cursed. I'll let you determine his exact age in this story with your imagination. Thank you for reading.
"Nothing marks a man's character better than his attraction to intelligence."
Terry Goodkind
Kafei gave a diplomatic nod as he led his escort down the dimly lit hall of the Stock Pot Inn. "It was my pleasure, Enoli."
The blonde woman walking next to him smiled brightly. Her silk skirt brushed over the well-worn wooden floor producing a gentle scraping sound. She wore a shirt of the same fabric and a richly designed scarf around her slender neck. She walked with an air of importance about her that was meant to impress those of class and warn away those who were not.
"I see a long and profitable future for our fathers, and their respected cities," she said. Her tone was as smooth as the silk of her dress—Kafei detected the telltale signs of aristocratic schooling. He knew because he had received the same training.
As the only son of Clock Town's mayor, Kafei had many official duties: Looking the proud son at important dinners; working as a runner, and sometimes mediator, between his father and mother; and keeping general order within the family so the family could in turn keep general order within the city. But he also had several unofficial duties--escorting the daughters of visiting mayors was one of them.
He had taken Enoli to every place of interest in Clock Town he could think of. Over the years he had made similar trips with other visiting women, but never one with the same...taste as Enoli. Hers was a more refined palate. What other women had found charming, Enoli found 'dreadfully dull.'
She had posed quite the challenge, but Kafei felt sure she would report to her father an evening of chaste merriment.
Kafei was ready to bid her goodnight and retreat to somewhere far away. His mouth was dry from endless polite prattle and his head pounded from her constant fawning.
They reached her room at the end of the hall and turned to face one another.
"I had a delightful evening," she said.
"As did I," he replied. "Please give your father my best regards in the morning." He hoped that last remark would save him from having to endure another long day of political speech.
"Of course, Kafei." Releasing a deep breath, she leaned forward expectantly.
Kafei fought the urge to roll his eyes. There were limits to his duties. First rule of diplomacy: compromise. He gently tipped her head and kissed her brow. "Goodnight, Enoli," he said
Before she could resist, he ushered her into the room and shut the door. He leaned heavily against the closed door. It had been a long day.
He pushed off and walked back down the dimly lit hall. His thoughts turned to a nice warm bed and place without Enoli's insistent voice.
Kafei took the stairs quickly and started across the common room.
"You there!" a voice called out.
He stopped and turned. A man with a neatly trimmed mustache sat at a small table in the corner of the main room. A coin purse and a disarrayed chess set sat in front of him. "Care for a game, young man?"
The diplomatic smile rose without conscious thought. "No thank you, sir."
"Come now," the man said. "A quick game? I just relieved a fellow traveler of his purse and it is still early. I'll even play without king's knight if you feel you need the aid."
"You play chess for money?"
The man gave a coy smile. "What is a game without a wee wager?"
"What indeed." Kafei took a step toward the man. "Tell me, sir, did you happen to mention to the previous owner of that purse that you are a professional gambler?"
The man's smile did not waver. "Who says that, lad? I'm just a traveler who enjoys the game of chess."
"It has been a long time since I played," Kafei told him.
"One never forgets." With the toe of his boot, the gambler pushed the chair opposite him way from the table.
"A quick game?"
"A quick game," the gambler confirmed.
Kafei walked to the table and sank down into the proffered chair.
"But first," the man said raising a finger, "a wee wager to make it interesting."
"How wee of a 'wee wager?'"
The gambler reached into the coin purse and withdrew a red rupee. He set it down with a small click on the tabletop between them.
Kafei let a moment pass as he appeared to think it over. "All right," he said at last, "you have a game." He added a red gem of his own to the pot.
They quickly reset the board and began. The first move was Kafei's: king's pawn to e4.
The gambler matched with king's pawn to e5.
Twenty-five moves later, Kafei lost.
He sat back with an exaggerated sigh and watched as the gambler relieved him of his king.
"A good game, lad."
As the gambler scooped up his winnings, Kafei reached into the purse at his waist and withdrew another red rupee. "How about a second game?" he asked. "The last was just a refresher."
Despite all the money he had won from the last player, the gambler eyed the gem hungrily. "I guess one more can't hurt." The board was quickly setup again.
Thirty-two moves later, Kafei lost.
"Well, that was enjoyable, lad," the gambler said with a laugh, "but I think it's time I hit the hay."
Kafei drummed his fingers on the tabletop and watched through narrowed eyes as the gambler stood and collected his winnings. He waited until the man was nearly to the stairs before calling out to him.
"Yes, lad?"
Kafei smiled a knowing smile and unhooked the coin purse from his belt. He threw it onto the table; by the heavy impact there was little doubt to the large amount inside. "Your purses against mine. In my pouch there is more than triple the amount you currently have—the advantage will be yours."
The gambler's eyes doubled in size. Without a word he walked back to the table and sat down.
Kafei reset the game pieces and then turned the board so the gambler would have the first move.
The gambler opened with queen's pawn to d4
Kafei moved his king's knight to f6
The gambler moved his king's pawn to e3
Completing his opening strategy, Kafei moved queen's knight to c6
Seventeen moves later, Kafei won. He tapped the gambler's king with his knight and toppled the piece. "Checkmate." He paused. "Your purses, please."
The gambler pushed the bags across the table. "You son of a—"
"Goodnight, sir," Kafei cut him off. "Perhaps we can have another game someday. Without the wee wager, of course."
Like a thundercloud wanting to explode in a fury of lightning, the gambler pushed away from the table and disappeared up the stairs.
Kafei attached his purse and the gambler's to his belt and considered the one still on the table. It seemed another visit to the inn would be required in the morning.
"You look satisfied with yourself."
He turned to the sound of the voice. A woman stood next to the front desk. She was a slight woman, no older than he. Auburn hair framed her small face and just barely brushed her narrow shoulders as she tipped her head. Kafei was stuck by the elegance of her simple garb: she was clad in an ankle length blue skirt with hand-stitched embroidery tracing the hem. Over a plain wool shirt she wore a brown vest buttoned to her neck.
Realizing she was waiting for him to speak, Kafei rose on suddenly unsteady legs and forced his voice to work. "T-that man stole money from one of the other guests. It wasn't right."
Large, blue eyes blinked at him. "And you felt it your duty to steal it back?"
"Yes—I mean no." Giving himself a mental shake, Kafei tried to focus. Where was all that diplomatic training when he needed it? "What I'm trying desperately to say is the gambler had no right to unfairly play a man out of his money. I did the same only to get the man's hard earned rupees back and hopefully teach the gambler to take his cons out of Clock Town."
"And yet you did more than that—"she gestured to the second purse at his hip—"you took the gambler's money."
Kafei shook his head. "That man has more rupees in his socks than most men have in their vaults. I knew that from the first moment, that's why I went through with the con. Money was the only thing he understood so that was how I decided to deliver my message."
A smile played with the corners of her mouth. "Are you that good at reading people?" she asked.
"I am."
The gentle tugging gave way to a tight-lipped smile. "What do you see in me, then?"
'I see a woman for whom I would commit unspeakable sins just to learn her name,' he thought but said, "I see a hard working woman who enjoys games as much as that gambler does. You were aware of the gambler; you never once questioned my accusation of him. You were watching us play. I suspect you were planning on getting the money back on your own before he stopped me.
"And I see a woman who obviously has a great deal of trust in her fellow man—you assumed I was playing to win the money for the last player instead of my own pocket."
"It wasn't in your eyes," she said simply.
'My eyes? When could she have seen my eyes?' he wondered. She hadn't been in the common room when he went up with Enoli, and he couldn't remember seeing her when he sat down to play the gambler. He would have remembered seeing her. Casually, Kafei studied the room looking for a spot from where she could observe the common room without anyone seeing her.
The back hall behind the check-in desk. She was an employee of the inn.
Giving him a glance that seemed to say she could read his thoughts as easily as he had read the gambler's, she moved away from the front desk. Her wooden shoes making a resounding clop in the otherwise quiet room, she walked to the lamp hanging closest to the door. Moving deftly, she lowered the wick and then snuffed out the flickering flame.
"Setting the mood?" Kafei asked.
She smiled politely. "No. I'm doing my job; it's closing time."
He backed up a step when she reached for the lamp next to him. After muting that light, she turned to the chessboard and began resetting it for the next pair of players. He watched the way she handled each piece. The care she showed spoke of familiarity.
When she was done with the chess set, she moved away to seek out the next lamp. She passed an arm's reach from him. She left behind a fragrance of jasmine.
Kafei turned so he could follow her movements. "What's your name?" he asked.
She didn't look away from the wick she was lowering. "Anju."
"That's a pretty name."
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "A guest once told me it meant 'sweet rose.' But he said it with the intent of me opening my legs for him so it could have been a lie."
"Anju." The name left his lips easily and with the sense he had been born to say only that word. "My name is Kafei. Would play a game of chess with me?"
She stopped next to the final lamp and considered him. That single lamp and two beams of moonlight working their way through windowpanes lighted the room. "For a wee wager?" she asked.
He laughed. "No, nothing like that. Just chess."
Anju nodded slightly and lifted the lamp from its base on the wall. She carried it to the small table and set it next to the waiting chess set. She pulled out the chair the gambler had commanded, smoothed her skirt, and sat down. "Well?"
Admiring the air of self-assuredness she wore like a cloak, Kafei sank down across from her. "Your move."
King's pawn took the opening for both sides. A standard opening that offered a sense of equality in a game where mental supremacy was sought.
Seven moves later, Kafei took measure of her constructed defense with a minor attack. She handled the sudden attack well and lost only a pawn. Then claimed his bishop in response.
Kafei looked up in surprise. She sat calmly, waiting for his next move. He looked back to the board and thought of the last few moves. She had laid a trap for him. A weak defense that was really a well hidden trap.
He considered his next move carefully and settled in for a true challenge.
Over the next five moves they traded pieces; he claimed her knight and she took his second bishop. He castled and she moved to do the same. Her hand lay perched on the tiny cross that served as her king's crown.
"I didn't expect you to come back down as quickly as you did," she said while pondering castling. At his questioning expression, she added, "When you went up with the dignitary's daughter I thought you would stay with her longer."
"Why?" he asked but already knew the answer.
Anju's face reddened as she removed her hand from the king. "She is beautiful and looked at you in a way that said you would not have to lie about her name to get her to open her legs." She inched a pawn closer to his front line.
"I did not wish to stay with her." His rook swooped in and claimed that pawn. "Pretty name or not."
She slipped a fingernail into the small groove that served as her bishop's headpiece. "You do not find her beautiful?" She moved the bishop three squares.
He quickly withdrew his rook lest she take it. "I think she likes to make other people admire her beauty. She wears nice dresses and scarves because other people find them pleasing, not because she is pleased by them. In doing that she nulls the attractiveness of the clothes, and, of their wearer. Your move."
She took one of his pawns. "You do not like confident women?"
"I love confident women," he corrected. "What Enoli shows is not confidence; it's an exercise in the opposite. She is afraid to be her own person so others must fill her empty persona with one of their own design.
"A truly confident woman faces the world as she is. She stands for what she believes in and rallies against what she doesn't. She's allowed frailties, we all are, but they do not rule her. She holds respect in a room not because of pretty clothes, or social standing, but because it is well earned. That is a trust by which we should all be held to—men and women alike."
Anju smiled. "Well spoken. You sound as people say your father used to sound; full of passion and fairness for all. I hope you keep that by the time this city is yours to command."
Kafei was taken aback. "You know who I am." It was not a question.
The smile turned shy. "It would be a lie to say I have not noticed you. The respect you hold in a room is palpable. I have often seen you here on the arm of some dignitary's daughter. You always leave much sooner than I expect you to, though" she added softly.
Kafei studied the game board for a long moment. "I'm afraid you were incorrect in saying this city will one day be mine. I have no interest in claiming my father's seat."
Anju offered no objection. She just tipped her head and waited for him to continue.
"I am the heir to a family of politicians," he said. "My father is Mayor and my mother rules supreme over the city's social class. I am the heir of great things, but my future will not find me as their keeper. I know few things in this world, but that fact is without doubt.
"I do not know what I want. I do not know what I will seek to do with my blood of thinkers and politicians, but I cannot rule this city. I do know that."
Anju nodded once. "I understand. It's a shame, but your life is yours to live."
He wanted to thank her for saying that sentence of great wisdom. And for saying it out of sincerity. Instead, he said, "A question, Anju: whose move it is?"
A smile lit her features. "Yours."
"I thought so."
The game pieces carried out a dance across the board over the next hour. Attacks were launched and defenses rose up to meet them. Pawns fell as did her last knight. Queens roamed the board, traversing as many squares at a time as they wished, like predators seeking prey. The time between moves grew longer as more time was needed to plan strategy. Both players did their best to stay several moves ahead of the other. At this point in the game, a mistake could not be forgiven.
Kafei slid his queen forward and claimed a rook. "Check."
Anju arched a thin brow. She leaned forward to better study the board.
He wet his lips. The game was nearly over—he had take up chess at the age of six and had learned the scent of approaching victory not long after. This victory, however, offered no joy. This game had provided a true challenge and he was sorry to see it end.
She moved one of the few pieces left on the board and blocked his line to her king.
Kafei tapped his chin as he thought. His gaze quickly moved about the area of her last move. There was no piece to defend the blocking piece; he could take that without losing his queen. The king would be an easy kill, then. He could end it—end the game he was so enjoying. He wrapped his hand around the pointy crown of his queen. The desire throw the play was nearly overwhelming, but he knew he could not do that. She would know. Chess players did not do that to one another; it was disrespectful to the opponent and to the spirit of the game. Kafei could not do that to Anju.
He lifted the queen and set it down next to the blocking piece.
Anju didn't hesitant. In a blink she moved her queen from its inconspicuous place in the corner of the board, past his defense, and to a square two spaces away from his king. Its own defense station of three pawns pinned the king in. "Checkmate."
Kafei sat back with enough force to make his chair creak. He felt his jaw hanging open.
She offered her hand over the stilled game pieces. "Good game."
Fighting to close his mouth, he took her hand. Her skin soft and warm against his. He lost his battle with his jaw. "V-very good game," he managed.
Anju gave another tight-lipped smile. "Thank you." She drew a deep breath and then pushed to her feet. Repeating her actions from only two hours ago, she began resetting the board. Kafei gathered the pieces he had taken from her side and helped.
When soldiers again waited to do battle over a field of sixty-four squares, he slid his chair back and stood. He was pleased to find his legs had regained their strength. "I'm sorry I kept you up so late," he said. It was the only thing he could think to say standing across the small table from her. The feel of her hand dominated his mind.
Anju shook her head, hair swaying slightly, and said, "It was enjoyable. Thank you for the game." She picked up the lamp. "Goodnight."
He returned the wish and moved toward the door. He stopped, his hand perched on the handle, and looked back. "Anju?"
Those blue eyes met his without fear. "Yes?"
Mathematics had yet to invented a high enough number to count the things he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that there was a strong chance he had grown infatuated with her in the short time he had spent with her. He wanted to profess that he would run the city if that was what she wanted him to do. He wanted to tell her that it hadn't been a lie about her name. He opened his mouth and, instead of all that, said, "I have to return here tomorrow to give the coin purse back to its original owner, perhaps we can play another game of chess."
She smiled and he knew she understood. "I'd like that."
He waved and called out greetings to the few people sharing the night with him. They responded by huddling further under their cloaks and pushing deeper into the shadows.
It was nearing dawn by the time he arrived home. He walked purpose filled down the burgundy carpeted halls, past several suits of armor that had provided many nightmares for him as a child, and into the den.
He threw open the thick drapes, also burgundy in color, of the east window. He wanted to see the sun when it rose. It had been far too long since he had been up the entire night and ending it with a sunrise just seemed the right thing to do.
His gaze went to a chess set resting on a velvet-topped table. There was no dust on it despite the amount of time since its last use—the members of the cleaning staff were very good at their job. Kafei thought they deserved a pay raise. He would have to mention that to his father.
"Oh, Kafei," said a voice from the doorway, "I had not realized you were awake."
He looked up. "Morning, mother!"
"How was your evening with Enoli?" she asked, but only seemed to be half-listening for the answer.
"Who? Oh, Enoli. We had a nice time." He looked back to the game board. Reaching out he slid the black king's pawn forward.
"I'm glad you had fun." She looked over her shoulder. "I think that father of yours has slipped away again. How early must one rise to catch that man? The charity banquet must be discussed! He might not care who sits next to whom, but the Ladies' Guild will certainly take note.
"You must speak to him, Kafei! You are the only one who can catch him. Sometimes it seems as though he is avoiding me. Heavens only knows why...."
"I'll explain the banquet to him, mother." He picked up the white queen and rolled it in his palm, feeling its weight. He smiled and softly said, "I believe I've just met the woman I'm going to marry."
His mother's rant about her husband came to a sudden stop. "Oh, Kafei, that is wonderful! I'll talk to planners today. It will be a spring wedding—winter is much too dreadful. It will be the social event of the year!
"Plus it will improve your father's political standing. Enoli's father is an influential man and can give this city much power. Very good, Kafei. Very good." She swept from the doorway in a rush of silk and wedding babble.
The logical part of Kafei's brain knew she had to be stopped before she caused irreversible trouble. She would wake the whole town just to find the correct planner. He knew he would have to go after her and explain it wasn't Enoli he had meant, and that the wedding would be a long time in coming. But, until the sun rose, he was content to sit in the den and practice his chess skills.
End.
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