FOUR SEASONSby Swordskill
Author's note: A little disclaimer...all of the people here aren't mine (sob)! They're property of Ahayana Min, but the fic is mine. The story sounds hypocritical bcos I've never written anything like this...so if you want to see how a first-timer -"romance"-writer-heading-for-disaster -who-tries-to- be-serious-to-no-avail writes, read on! Then R/R, OK?
Spring, summer, fall, winter.
Dorothy looked at the white landscape before her. Each nook and cranny of the lawn outside Seravi's house seemed to be blanketed with layers and layers of snow.
She placed a slender, white hand on the cold window pane as she watched the snow fall like an angry reproach from the heavens and the frost build up around the house. The sun was hidden by low clouds and more snow.
Winter was a season of bitter cold. The wind never ceased banging on the door and rattling the windows as if it was compulsory to shake the house down silly. The ice and snow fell mercilessly down that going outdoors was a task somewhat next to impossible.
Yet her Seravi had gone out to battle the great cold to bring home the children: Chacha, Riya, and Shiine, from school.
Dorothy let down the curtain, sat down the chair, and fell into a deep reverie.
In a few days' time, she and Seravi will be married. She smiled in spite of herself. Ah, yes, it seemed so easy to say that, but who knew what deeper meaning lurked behind that curtain of words.
Now she was beginning to have second thoughts about giving her word to the man. But he had looked so pleading and sweet when he had gone down on one knee that she couldn't resist saying yes.
She leaned back. Oh no, it wasn't because she though Seravi would be unfaithful. No, she knew that never in a thousand milleniums would Seravi abandon her for someone...let alone someTHING...else. And she knew that Seravi would go to the ends of the earth, and even risk his life, to satisfy her needs. What an ego this lady has! No, what she was worrying was the complete opposite: would SHE be a good wife to him? Would she be able to make him happy? (Now that's called humility)
She looked out once again at the snow-buried earth. Would she risk going outside and shrink herself into a shivering piece of flesh to satisfy Seravi's request?
If it was spring or summer, or even fall, it would be a perfect weather to go out and do some errand for her husband. A perfect weather, a condition like good living, sometimes called a "bed of roses".
But like the seasons, all good things come to an end. For the seasons, the bitter cold Mr. Winter would come. And remember, a rose has thorns. Sooner or later, the bed of roses you're lying on would give a frightful dose of prickling sensations: a bed of thorns! Would she, under these circumstances, be a good and faithful wife?
She stood up and walked slowly to a full-length mirror and stared back at the tall, stately figure with pink hair and entrancing, violent eyes.
So this was the woman Seravi had fallen for. This woman who had been so jealous of him ever since she could remember.
She brushed her long bangs away from her face. It seemed that her wildest dream, the dream that she would be the greatest magician, would never come true.
But wait! Was she sure that THAT was her wildest dream? Or isn't her wildest dream is to be married with that handsome man with the emerald eyes matching his sea of green hair?
A smile played on her lips as her shoes walked quietly over the wooden floor. She could remember plainly the impression she felt when she first saw Seravi. She saw a rowdy, mischievous boy running around with his unkempt hair flying in the wind with absolutely no care in the world. She could still remember the disgust and growing jealousy she first felt, and the little spark that she couldn't quite place. And as the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years, that tiny spark blossomed, and now she knew what it was.
Three quick raps on the door woke her up from her contemplation. She hurriedly opened the door and beheld a Seravi half-buried in the snow with the children in his arms.
"Heaven help us! You four come right in before you catch your death of cold!" was the very first thing she said.
She patted the snow from Seravi as the three children said their hellos and sprang to one of the rooms to play.
"I swear, I couldn't have told you apart from a snowman, Seravi," she said as she closed the door.
"Don't blame me; snow was heavy today," replied Seravi, heading straight for the pot to fix some tea.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh yeah, perfect condition." Seravi looked up from his pot of tea and peered at her. "You're paler than usual, Dorothy. Did you just drown yourself over a tub of face powder?"
Dorothy was about to hurl the chair straight at him when he held up his hand and said, "I was kidding. What's with the long face? Did someone trample my row of petunias outside? No, I'm kidding again. Gee, you're really taking everything so solemnly today. Seriously, what's wrong?" He set his pot of tea down and put a hand on her shoulder. "You know I'm always here for you." His green eyes looked deeply at her.
"Well, I was thinking...that...I don't think that I'm going to be a very..." she searched for the right word, "...devoted housewife." She tried not to eat her words but, it wasn't easy practicing humility to Seravi.
Seravi stared at her. "You think I'm going to marry you so that I'm going to have a devoted housewife to look after me?" He gave a chuckle. "Well, little lady, you've got it all wrong. I'm going to marry you because of who you are. I'm going to marry...well, let's see...a beautiful, headstrong woman... that I fell in love with, and mind you, I'm still falling, not to some housewife but you. And don't you dare change!"
He gave her a kiss on the forehead and said, "You look like you need a cup of tea." He took a tray of a teapot and two cups on the table.
Dorothy tried not to show her relief as she sat primly down the chair and sipped her tea.
Seravi looked outside and said, "Have you noticed how the snow's been piling up the walk like crazy? If we at least open the door, the snow would flood the whole house. So I think..."
"So you're thinking of shoveling it off for us?" said Dorothy. She was starting to look forward to this getting-married idea.
Seravi looked at her curiously. "Why, no. I was thinking that YOU'd go shoveling it off for us while I cook dinner."
"What!" Dorothy didn't feel so looking-forward anymore. "This isn't even my house! And aren't you supposed to be the man of the house?"
"That's why I'm going to cook. You know the best chefs in the world are males."
"Well, we aren't in some kind of fancy restaurant, so why can't I do the cooking?" Dorothy demanded.
"I don't want the children poisoned." Seravi smoothly slipped in the kitchen, easily avoiding the teapot Dorothy threw after him.
"Oh, for crying out loud...!" Dorothy materialized a shovel and stomped outside.
As she dug out shovelfuls of snow, she muttered to herself, "Why am I doing this? I'm sick. I MUST be sick. Or I'm crazy."
Suddenly, the sun rose from the clouds and sprayed shards of sunrays all around. As she stood and watched, she wondered if she could be like that, never ceasing to shine over the earth all throughout the four seasons. Well, she decided, giving a glance towards Seravi's direction, she would try to be more helpful whether it was spring, summer, fall...she looked at her wet dress...or even winter.