Fairest {Part Two
Allen had never been so far out into the woods in his life.
He had run out of bread and cheese two weeks before, and was now living off of the berries and mushrooms that he could find. If he were very lucky, he would catch a fish and he could cook that over a small fire, eating it quickly so that he would not attract the attention of the more dangerous beasts in the woods. Yet he never saw hide or hair of any of the nasty creatures, and overall his walk through the trees was a peaceful one.
He was, however, very alone, and after a few months of wandering blindly he was feeling lonely.
Kneeling beside the river, washing his tunic, he did not hear anything around him except for the natural sounds of insects, birds, and the flowing of the stream. He hummed softly to himself, keeping his mind busy as he kept his hands busy; it was because of this that he did not hear the sudden silence that surrounded him. Ringing out his tunic over the river, Allen stopped his humming and seemed to realize that not even the birds were singing along with him anymore.
That was when he heard the growling.
Turning slowly, the young prince looked around the clearing next to the river, seeing no one and nothing around him. The growls persisted, however, sounding from everywhere and coming from every shadow. Nervously, Allen stood up slowly, clinging to his tunic and breathing shallowly.
“H-hello? Is s-s-someone there?”
The growling stopped, which made Allen more apprehensive than before. A twig snapped from somewhere in the trees, then, Allen looking around desperately, before he finally spotted a figure coming out of the darkness. About to speak, the prince quickly covered his mouth with a hand to hold back a cry, eyes wide and frightened.
Melting out of the shadows was a wolf, as big as a bear and coloured all in black fur. Eyes as gold as the sun, the beast pulled its lips back and sneered at Allen threateningly, rumbling out another growl and stepping towards him. Allen stepped back automatically, stumbling into the cold river, and the wolf snarled at him warningly. The prince moved to get out of the water, then, keeping his eyes on the wolf; the wolf, most likely seeing the movement as a threat, leapt out towards Allen.
And he ran.
Running as fast as he could, through trees and bushes, he ducked low branches and tripped over roots, scrabbling to his feet every time he fell over. Behind him he could hear the wolf, big paws thumping against the ground, barks echoing off of trees and rocks. He twisted corners and turned himself around more times than he could count, branches scratching at his arms, face, and legs; his cloak got caught quite a few times, gaining more rips in it than it had ever had before.
He suddenly came across a break in the trees. Before him the ground dropped into a cliff, and Allen stopped as fast as he could, stumbling and falling backwards with the force of his momentum. Crying out when his back hit the compact ground, the prince panted and closed his eyes when the wolf appeared close to him. He heard the soft rumbles from the creature, the footsteps slow and measured as the beast neared the prince. Hot air hit his face as the animal sniffed at him, huffing out and backing away. Allen dared not open his eyes, not wishing to see those terrifying golden eyes or frightening teeth before he was most assuredly eaten.
Allen was suddenly lifted up from the ground by strong hands, however, and he opened his eyes to see that a man was carrying him. Looking up, he saw the same golden eyes of the wolf staring down from a man’s face.
“You - y-you’re -”
“Yes.” It was silent for a moment, and then the man looked back down at him. “Are you afraid?”
When Allen did not answer, the wolf-man sighed and looked away from him, bringing them back into the forest and seemingly following a path well known to the golden-eyed creature. “Do not be afraid of me, fair prince. I am not the one you should fear.”
The man did not speak after that, and Allen did not dare say a word. They weaved their way through the forest with no trouble at all, the sky above them growing darker and darker. Finally the wolf-man came across a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney. Walking towards the cottage, the wolf-man set the prince down and knocked twice. The door opened immediately to reveal a young man in a red tunic.
“Wha’s this, then? Brough’ me a stray, Tegan?”
“Let us in before the ravens come out, Aiden.” The man, Aiden, stepped aside to allow the newly named Tegan and Allen into the cottage. Closing the door behind him, Aiden turned around to see Tegan leading Allen on the bed. “Have you had any unexpected visitors?”
“‘Sides the royalty sittin’ on m’bed? No, no’ really. Though’ I saw some dwarfs earlier, bu’ they passed righ’ on by.”
“The dwarfs are getting restless.” Tegan shook his head, before leaving Allen and disappearing into a room in the back of the cottage. After a moment he came back, pulling on a black tunic and shaking his hair from his face. Taking a bowl of stew from Aiden, he sat down at the table and began spooning his food. Aiden, with a fond pat on Tegan’s shoulder, then turned to Allen and walked up to him.
“Good evenin’, yer ‘ighness.”
“H-how do you know who I a-a-am?” Aiden smiled, sitting down next to him on the bed and giving him a shrug.
“Y’hear strange whispers when y’live in the forest,” he said after a moment, folding his hands in front of him. “Yer bein’ ‘unted down by Queen Anne’s finest.”
“Sir Jakob,” Allen breathed, imaging the handsome, usually friendly knight who was always seen by Anne’s side. He had spoken to him sparingly, usually only when he was required to appear at functions and he had no one else to speak to. He never said anything of importance to Jakob, however, as he knew that the other man told the queen everything the disgraced prince said to him.
“No, no’ ‘im.” Aiden smiled, but the expression was grim making Allen shift uncomfortably. “None of ‘er knights are willin’ t’do th’job, so she found someone ‘oo would.”
“And t-that would be?”
“The Huntsman,” Tegan spoke up from the table, pushing aside his bowl and turning towards Aiden and Allen. “A man by himself not all too impressive, but he is with a mission and that makes him dangerous.”
Allen had heard of the Huntsman, of course, had even been there the day the Queen had him captured and sentenced to a life of imprisonment in the castle’s underground cells. He remembered a man with tanned skin and hundreds of freckles, short cropped hair and hazel-green eyes. He had thought, at the time, that the Huntsman was a very handsome man, and he had wondered how Allen would beat him in terms of the title ‘fairest in the land’.
Now he only thought about how this man was going to hunt him down and drag him back to the queen.
“Wha’s th’Huntsman doin’ out of ‘is cell, Tegan?”
“I just told you,” the wolf-man replied, voice soft and a little bit rough, as if he was not used to speaking so much in one sitting. Allen wondered about his life; why he turned into a wolf and why he spent time with a strange man in red, hidden away in the woods in a cabin and smiling as if it were all okay. “He’s looking for the prince.”
“Bu’ Zeb don’ like the queen - couldn’t ‘e jus’ run away an’ lose ‘er in th’woods? ‘E used to basically live ‘ere, after all.” But Tegan was shaking his head, making Aiden frown and fold his arms over his chest thoughtfully. “Wha’ d’ya know tha’ we don’?”
Tegan was quiet for a moment, hands folded together and elbows resting against the tops of his thighs, his gaze contemplative and far away. It was as if he were remembering something from a long time ago, when he did not look haggard and tired, when he was not an animal but a man through and through. He then smiled a bit, though it wasn’t a very nice expression, and looked back over to the man in red and the runaway prince.
“The Huntsman’s got some invaluable possession just on the outskirts of the queen’s lands. A cousin of some sort.”
Aiden’s eyes widened in understanding while Allen’s heart and stomach simultaneously sank. The young man shifted uncomfortable on his perch, pushing himself to his seat and going over to the window to stare outside of it.
“So w-what does Anne’s h-h-hunt for me have a-anything to do with the t-two of you? Obviously you are h-h-hiding from her, as you are l-living in the f-fforest like outcasts.” He stared up at the tops of trees, unable to see the sky and wishing desperately that he could, just for a moment. Just to see some colour other than brown and green and red. He heard the scuffing of chair legs as Tegan pushed himself out of his seat; the creak of worn bed springs as Aiden stood once more, and he did not bother watching their ghostly reflections in the window glass to see them approach.
Aiden pulled him away from the window, being as gentle and non-provoking as possible, while Tegan drew the curtains over the window and threw the three of them into the darkness of the cabin - the only light coming from a candle on the table, flickering dimly and wax sunk low from hours upon hours of burning away.
“You shouldn’ be near windows when th’sun’s goin’ down, ‘ighness; the ravens’ll be comin’ by at any mo’, and we can’ ‘ave ‘em seein’ you.”
“W-what are the r-r-ravens, that you s-should fear them when you h-have a w-wolf man?” Aiden’s hands squeezed Allen’s shoulders in warning, very forward and rude of a commoner to do to a prince, but Allen kept quiet on the inappropriate behaviour, allowing the other man to lead him back to the bed and push him onto the mattress. It creaked tiredly, sinking with him, and he folded his hands in his lap.
“They’re spies,” Aiden finally said after a moment, going over to his stove and ladling the stew he had sitting on the top into a wooden bowl, bringing it over to Allen and handing it over to him. “Eat tha’, now, s’good food, there. An’ I would wager tha’ you ‘aven’t seen a good bowl o’ stew since you ran into th’woods, eh?”
Allen shook his head, stirring the stew with a wooden spoon already in the bowl, before spooning some food into his mouth and sighing as cooked meat, warm vegetables, and flavouring as he hadn’t tasted for weeks covered his tongue and slid down his throat as easily as if it were water. He ate slowly, though, even if he wanted to swallow it all, bowl and everything, because his mother had taught him manners and just because he was hiding in the woods did not mean he should lose them.
“We don’ know ‘oo’s spies they are,” Aiden continued after a moment, sitting next to Allen and leaning back on his hands. “They’re jus’ there - watchin’ for somethin’. Anythin’. Ol’ Baba Yaga ‘oo used t’live ‘ere, she was doin’ somethin’ wi’ ‘her bones and her Riders, an’ the ravens - they saw ‘er at it, and they must’a no’ liked wha’ it was tha’ they saw, ‘cause nex’ day I come over, she’s gone, and the ‘ouse is as abandoned as can be.” He shook his head, smiling thinly. “Guess it wasn’ too polite of me t’move in soon as she was gone, bu’ I needed a roof over m’head. I ain’ gonna apologize for tha’, so don’ you try and judge me, ‘ighness.”
Allen shook his head eyes wide as he learned about why it was the old woman came before Anne so many months ago, ugly and bent and old in appearance, but powerful and wise in her knowledge of herbs and spells. Anne had wanted to speak to her, to learn if it was true that she controlled the day, sun and the night; the old woman had refused to answer her. Anne had her executed the next day by hanging, her eyes a careful blank as she forced Allen to watch the old woman’s body twitch and finally fall limp from her rope.
The prince shuddered as he remembered the dead look in Anne’s eyes as she watched the woman die, putting aside his bowl of stew half finished and wrapping his arms around his stomach tightly. Aiden narrowed his eyes, about to speak up about the waste of food, but Tegan picked up the bowl and made to finish it, shaking his head at Aiden and narrowing his eyes meaningfully. The man in red sighed and pursed his lips, before shrugging jerkily.
“As fer your earlier question, ‘ighness - we’re protectin’ ya ‘cause we all know you’re the righ’ and true heir of the land. Should ya marry ‘er ‘majesty, th’natural order o’things would fall apar’. ‘Sides,” he added, look thoughtful as he looked up at the roof. “We were asked te.”
“B-by whom?”
“No one of importance,” Tegan stated once he was finished eating, piling Allen’s bowl on top of his and arching his back to stretch it, wincing as it snapped in a few places as if cracking back into place. “You should sleep, your highness - you’ll be leaving by the morning.”
“W-where am I to g-g-go?”
“Somewhere safe,” was all he said, before he disappeared out the front door. Aiden moved to the window as soon as he did, peeking out through the curtains and presumably watching Tegan until he disappeared, slipping into the shadows as easily as he had slipped out of them when Allen had first seen him. After a moment, the other man sighed, letting the curtain drop and heading towards the table, picking up the candle and heading towards the back room where Tegan had disappeared before.
“W-where are you g-g-going?”
“T’ge’y’some blanke’s, ‘ighness, don’ worry so much.”
Aiden disappeared, then, leaving Allen alone in the darkness of the cabin. He curled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around his shins and burying his face into his knees as he tried to take in all the information he had learned that evening.
Queen Anne was looking for him, just as he thought she would, and she had sent a beautiful man known for his hatred of the royal family out to find him. A man who knew the woods as well as the wolf-man who brought him to this cabin or the man in red who lived in it. Maybe he knew it even better. And the Huntsman would find him, because his family was in threat of Anne’s violent hand. He was being protected by an unknown force, with people of the forest he didn’t know whether he could trust or not, while being hunted down.
All because he was escaping an incestuous relationship with his stepmother. All because his mother had told him of a prophecy, where he would be the ‘fairest in the land’.
He squeezed his arms around his shins, holding back a shuddering breath that wanted to escape him, before unfolding himself as smoothly as he could when he began to see Aiden’s candle flickering in the room again.
“I only found ‘bout three, if tha’s alrigh’ wi’ye.”
“T-that’s fine,” Allen murmured, gratefully taking the blankets. He looked around for a place to sleep, before Aiden pushed him to lie down on top of the bed. “Oh, n-no, I c-c-couldn’t -!”
“Y’can an’ y’will, ‘ighness. Ain’ no one gonna call me improper fer makin’ the prince sleep on this ol’ floor. I’ll be up the ‘ole nigh’, anyway. Y’get yer sleep. Ye’ll need i’ fer when Tegan comes back fer ya.”
Hesitating, the prince finally nodded, slipping the boots off of his feet before curling up on the small bed, draping his blankets over his body and burying himself under them for warmth. He closed his eyes, the image of Aiden sitting down at the kitchen table facing the doorway imprinted behind his eyelids, and slowly fell asleep to the sound of patient humming, the words lost to him as darkness claimed him once more.______________________________________________________________________________________________
Zebediah left the day after his meeting with the queen, stopping into his hut for the first time in many years.
It was kept orderly, with the dust cleared off and the fire crackling contentedly in the fireplace, chasing off the chill of fall that was approaching from the North. The door squeaked as it always did, and the bearskin that covered it from the inside still hung there, keeping out light and wind and making the inside of the hut very warm and comfortable indeed.
In fact, there were barely any new additions at all that he wondered if anything still lived in the place, or if the old village women merely kept the place tidy in the event that Zebediah should finally come home.
That idea was quickly dashed, however, at the sound of running feet approaching the hut from outside. The huntsman turned, opening his arms to the mass of dark hair and pale skin that threw herself at him, thin arms wrapping around his waist and a thin face pushing against his chest as if needing to be as close to his heartbeat as possible, proving that he was truly there and not a dream.
“Zebediah!”
“Adiel,” Zebediah murmured, touching her hair and kissing her forehead gently, callused fingers taking in still-smooth skin, making him wonder what it was the young girl did these days. Young woman, he should say, finally pulling his cousin back a bit so that he could look over her. Seventeen and she was done growing, turning out to be a lovely thing with bright brown eyes and healthy black hair that fell to her shoulders. She was dressed in a blue dress that fell to her ankles, with a white smock and a blue ribbon to keep her hair back and out of her face, though it was loose now from her run.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and full of tears, before she smiled at him shakily and lifted a hand to touch his face. “Cuz, you’ve become so pale that your freckles have gone into hiding, they have.”
“I’ll chase ‘em back in no time,” Zebediah said with a small smile. “I’ve got a bit of a huntin’ trip to make, and I’m only here to gather my things.”
“Oh, can’t you stay? Just one day, Zebediah, please? I haven’t seen you in such a long time, and I want to show you everything I’ve learned since you’ve been away. I learned my letters! And I know how to do maths!”
“That’s wonderful, Ellie, but I have to go,” Zebediah said, pulling away with a frown and making his way to the trunk which kept his things, “it’s for our own good that I go soon as possible.”
“Why is it for our own good?” Adiel asked, following after Zebediah and peering over his shoulder as he gathered his leather belt with his hunting knife and axe, stepping away quickly when he pulled out the bow and arrow he used to hunt down deer and the famous hart that had landed him in a cell with rats for food. “How is it that you’ve come to be released? Zebediah, what’s going on?”
Zebediah stayed silent, standing up and buckling his belt with steady hands, finding his quiver of arrows and counting the arrows he had inside before slinging it over his shoulder. Picking up his bow, and a sword for good measure because he did not know what manner of beast - animal or man, one could never tell in those woods - protected the prince now, he turned back to his cousin and leaned down, kissing her forehead and squeezing her shoulder.
“Stay safe until I get back,” Zebediah said, smiling at her tiredly, “and pack up anything you wish to keep with you. Soon as I’m done this hunt we are leaving this kingdom, and we are never coming back.”
He left without another word, ignoring Adiel as she called after him, asking him why she had a pack and why they were moving and why, why, why. He could see the queen’s guard that had been watching over his cousin slip behind a building as he passed him, thinking himself out of sight, and Zebediah almost took an arrow and shot him in the throat to prove that he wasn’t hidden at all. But he wouldn’t - that might endanger Adiel’s life.
He would not endanger her life.
He walked into the woods not too far from his hut, passing through familiar trees and listening to the almost-forgotten song of the birds and other small creatures; frogs and crickets and squirrels, chipmunks and deer all chattering away, paying no mind to the strange man walking through their woods. Zebediah had a memorable presence about him, and the creatures recognized a brother when he approached them. They kept their distance, however, for he was of wolf blood, and you never crossed a wolf unless you wished to be eaten.
Stopping everyone once in a while to inspect a tree, or to run his fingers over the soft earth underneath his feet, he listened and he smelled and he watched for signs of otherness; a sign of humanness that had maybe come across the forest and disturbed the natural order of things without realizing what was happening. Rabbits skittered passed him, a lark singing up in the trees above his head, and so far he could find nothing.
Zebediah continued to walk throughout the remainder of the day, plucking berries and other edible things that grew when he got hungry and taking down a rabbit when it came around the midday meal. When he came across the river that ran throughout the whole forest, he took a long drink from it, closing his eyes at the freshness he had not tasted in much too long - to used to dusty bowls and stale water with piss mixed in, because the guards thought themselves clever. It was then that he noticed something different.
A grey tunic, rich in material and obviously foreign, leisurely floated down the river’s length towards him. It was soaked through, though not so badly as to be ruined, and as soon as it was within reach, Zebediah reached out and snagged it, dragging it out of the water and holding it up to inspect.
It was a man’s tunic, with silken thread and blue stitching. There was a faint pattern sewn into the sleeves that he could barely make out; a brocade of some sort, patterns repeated over and over as if the woman who had sewn the creation had painstakingly sewn in each stitch with care and precision.
Obviously a prince’s tunic.
Anne’s pretty stepson had been here, then.
He rang out the tunic, stuffing it into his belt and walking through the river towards the darker part of the woods, looking for more signs of the prince as he went. Every once in a while he would spot a broken branch, grass that had been flattened, or, if he were very lucky, he would find little bits of cloth from when the prince’s clothing had gotten snagged by the trees and bushes he ran through. At one point he noticed the tracks of a large animal, and he wondered for a moment whether or not Allen had been eaten.
However, when he came to the cliff that dropped to the raging river that led to the kingdom the youngest prince had been banished to so many years ago, the animal prints had disappeared and instead there were the bare footprints of a man. A tall one, judging on the side of his feet, and one Zebediah knew very well. The man’s footprints head him to the edge of the cliff, where a large section of grass had been flattened; the prince had likely fallen down. When he went to follow more footprints, however, they disappeared as soon as they entered the forest, and it was then that he knew the forest people were working against him.
“Damn it all to hell,” Zebediah hissed, grip tightening on his bow and hazel-green eyes glaring sharply into the darkness of the forest. “Don’t think you can hide him forever, Tegan. I’ll find him, even if I have to hunt you down to do it.”
And with that he moved back into the trees, disappearing into the shadows and becoming part of the forest once more.
He had run out of bread and cheese two weeks before, and was now living off of the berries and mushrooms that he could find. If he were very lucky, he would catch a fish and he could cook that over a small fire, eating it quickly so that he would not attract the attention of the more dangerous beasts in the woods. Yet he never saw hide or hair of any of the nasty creatures, and overall his walk through the trees was a peaceful one.
He was, however, very alone, and after a few months of wandering blindly he was feeling lonely.
Kneeling beside the river, washing his tunic, he did not hear anything around him except for the natural sounds of insects, birds, and the flowing of the stream. He hummed softly to himself, keeping his mind busy as he kept his hands busy; it was because of this that he did not hear the sudden silence that surrounded him. Ringing out his tunic over the river, Allen stopped his humming and seemed to realize that not even the birds were singing along with him anymore.
That was when he heard the growling.
Turning slowly, the young prince looked around the clearing next to the river, seeing no one and nothing around him. The growls persisted, however, sounding from everywhere and coming from every shadow. Nervously, Allen stood up slowly, clinging to his tunic and breathing shallowly.
“H-hello? Is s-s-someone there?”
The growling stopped, which made Allen more apprehensive than before. A twig snapped from somewhere in the trees, then, Allen looking around desperately, before he finally spotted a figure coming out of the darkness. About to speak, the prince quickly covered his mouth with a hand to hold back a cry, eyes wide and frightened.
Melting out of the shadows was a wolf, as big as a bear and coloured all in black fur. Eyes as gold as the sun, the beast pulled its lips back and sneered at Allen threateningly, rumbling out another growl and stepping towards him. Allen stepped back automatically, stumbling into the cold river, and the wolf snarled at him warningly. The prince moved to get out of the water, then, keeping his eyes on the wolf; the wolf, most likely seeing the movement as a threat, leapt out towards Allen.
And he ran.
Running as fast as he could, through trees and bushes, he ducked low branches and tripped over roots, scrabbling to his feet every time he fell over. Behind him he could hear the wolf, big paws thumping against the ground, barks echoing off of trees and rocks. He twisted corners and turned himself around more times than he could count, branches scratching at his arms, face, and legs; his cloak got caught quite a few times, gaining more rips in it than it had ever had before.
He suddenly came across a break in the trees. Before him the ground dropped into a cliff, and Allen stopped as fast as he could, stumbling and falling backwards with the force of his momentum. Crying out when his back hit the compact ground, the prince panted and closed his eyes when the wolf appeared close to him. He heard the soft rumbles from the creature, the footsteps slow and measured as the beast neared the prince. Hot air hit his face as the animal sniffed at him, huffing out and backing away. Allen dared not open his eyes, not wishing to see those terrifying golden eyes or frightening teeth before he was most assuredly eaten.
Allen was suddenly lifted up from the ground by strong hands, however, and he opened his eyes to see that a man was carrying him. Looking up, he saw the same golden eyes of the wolf staring down from a man’s face.
“You - y-you’re -”
“Yes.” It was silent for a moment, and then the man looked back down at him. “Are you afraid?”
When Allen did not answer, the wolf-man sighed and looked away from him, bringing them back into the forest and seemingly following a path well known to the golden-eyed creature. “Do not be afraid of me, fair prince. I am not the one you should fear.”
The man did not speak after that, and Allen did not dare say a word. They weaved their way through the forest with no trouble at all, the sky above them growing darker and darker. Finally the wolf-man came across a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney. Walking towards the cottage, the wolf-man set the prince down and knocked twice. The door opened immediately to reveal a young man in a red tunic.
“Wha’s this, then? Brough’ me a stray, Tegan?”
“Let us in before the ravens come out, Aiden.” The man, Aiden, stepped aside to allow the newly named Tegan and Allen into the cottage. Closing the door behind him, Aiden turned around to see Tegan leading Allen on the bed. “Have you had any unexpected visitors?”
“‘Sides the royalty sittin’ on m’bed? No, no’ really. Though’ I saw some dwarfs earlier, bu’ they passed righ’ on by.”
“The dwarfs are getting restless.” Tegan shook his head, before leaving Allen and disappearing into a room in the back of the cottage. After a moment he came back, pulling on a black tunic and shaking his hair from his face. Taking a bowl of stew from Aiden, he sat down at the table and began spooning his food. Aiden, with a fond pat on Tegan’s shoulder, then turned to Allen and walked up to him.
“Good evenin’, yer ‘ighness.”
“H-how do you know who I a-a-am?” Aiden smiled, sitting down next to him on the bed and giving him a shrug.
“Y’hear strange whispers when y’live in the forest,” he said after a moment, folding his hands in front of him. “Yer bein’ ‘unted down by Queen Anne’s finest.”
“Sir Jakob,” Allen breathed, imaging the handsome, usually friendly knight who was always seen by Anne’s side. He had spoken to him sparingly, usually only when he was required to appear at functions and he had no one else to speak to. He never said anything of importance to Jakob, however, as he knew that the other man told the queen everything the disgraced prince said to him.
“No, no’ ‘im.” Aiden smiled, but the expression was grim making Allen shift uncomfortably. “None of ‘er knights are willin’ t’do th’job, so she found someone ‘oo would.”
“And t-that would be?”
“The Huntsman,” Tegan spoke up from the table, pushing aside his bowl and turning towards Aiden and Allen. “A man by himself not all too impressive, but he is with a mission and that makes him dangerous.”
Allen had heard of the Huntsman, of course, had even been there the day the Queen had him captured and sentenced to a life of imprisonment in the castle’s underground cells. He remembered a man with tanned skin and hundreds of freckles, short cropped hair and hazel-green eyes. He had thought, at the time, that the Huntsman was a very handsome man, and he had wondered how Allen would beat him in terms of the title ‘fairest in the land’.
Now he only thought about how this man was going to hunt him down and drag him back to the queen.
“Wha’s th’Huntsman doin’ out of ‘is cell, Tegan?”
“I just told you,” the wolf-man replied, voice soft and a little bit rough, as if he was not used to speaking so much in one sitting. Allen wondered about his life; why he turned into a wolf and why he spent time with a strange man in red, hidden away in the woods in a cabin and smiling as if it were all okay. “He’s looking for the prince.”
“Bu’ Zeb don’ like the queen - couldn’t ‘e jus’ run away an’ lose ‘er in th’woods? ‘E used to basically live ‘ere, after all.” But Tegan was shaking his head, making Aiden frown and fold his arms over his chest thoughtfully. “Wha’ d’ya know tha’ we don’?”
Tegan was quiet for a moment, hands folded together and elbows resting against the tops of his thighs, his gaze contemplative and far away. It was as if he were remembering something from a long time ago, when he did not look haggard and tired, when he was not an animal but a man through and through. He then smiled a bit, though it wasn’t a very nice expression, and looked back over to the man in red and the runaway prince.
“The Huntsman’s got some invaluable possession just on the outskirts of the queen’s lands. A cousin of some sort.”
Aiden’s eyes widened in understanding while Allen’s heart and stomach simultaneously sank. The young man shifted uncomfortable on his perch, pushing himself to his seat and going over to the window to stare outside of it.
“So w-what does Anne’s h-h-hunt for me have a-anything to do with the t-two of you? Obviously you are h-h-hiding from her, as you are l-living in the f-fforest like outcasts.” He stared up at the tops of trees, unable to see the sky and wishing desperately that he could, just for a moment. Just to see some colour other than brown and green and red. He heard the scuffing of chair legs as Tegan pushed himself out of his seat; the creak of worn bed springs as Aiden stood once more, and he did not bother watching their ghostly reflections in the window glass to see them approach.
Aiden pulled him away from the window, being as gentle and non-provoking as possible, while Tegan drew the curtains over the window and threw the three of them into the darkness of the cabin - the only light coming from a candle on the table, flickering dimly and wax sunk low from hours upon hours of burning away.
“You shouldn’ be near windows when th’sun’s goin’ down, ‘ighness; the ravens’ll be comin’ by at any mo’, and we can’ ‘ave ‘em seein’ you.”
“W-what are the r-r-ravens, that you s-should fear them when you h-have a w-wolf man?” Aiden’s hands squeezed Allen’s shoulders in warning, very forward and rude of a commoner to do to a prince, but Allen kept quiet on the inappropriate behaviour, allowing the other man to lead him back to the bed and push him onto the mattress. It creaked tiredly, sinking with him, and he folded his hands in his lap.
“They’re spies,” Aiden finally said after a moment, going over to his stove and ladling the stew he had sitting on the top into a wooden bowl, bringing it over to Allen and handing it over to him. “Eat tha’, now, s’good food, there. An’ I would wager tha’ you ‘aven’t seen a good bowl o’ stew since you ran into th’woods, eh?”
Allen shook his head, stirring the stew with a wooden spoon already in the bowl, before spooning some food into his mouth and sighing as cooked meat, warm vegetables, and flavouring as he hadn’t tasted for weeks covered his tongue and slid down his throat as easily as if it were water. He ate slowly, though, even if he wanted to swallow it all, bowl and everything, because his mother had taught him manners and just because he was hiding in the woods did not mean he should lose them.
“We don’ know ‘oo’s spies they are,” Aiden continued after a moment, sitting next to Allen and leaning back on his hands. “They’re jus’ there - watchin’ for somethin’. Anythin’. Ol’ Baba Yaga ‘oo used t’live ‘ere, she was doin’ somethin’ wi’ ‘her bones and her Riders, an’ the ravens - they saw ‘er at it, and they must’a no’ liked wha’ it was tha’ they saw, ‘cause nex’ day I come over, she’s gone, and the ‘ouse is as abandoned as can be.” He shook his head, smiling thinly. “Guess it wasn’ too polite of me t’move in soon as she was gone, bu’ I needed a roof over m’head. I ain’ gonna apologize for tha’, so don’ you try and judge me, ‘ighness.”
Allen shook his head eyes wide as he learned about why it was the old woman came before Anne so many months ago, ugly and bent and old in appearance, but powerful and wise in her knowledge of herbs and spells. Anne had wanted to speak to her, to learn if it was true that she controlled the day, sun and the night; the old woman had refused to answer her. Anne had her executed the next day by hanging, her eyes a careful blank as she forced Allen to watch the old woman’s body twitch and finally fall limp from her rope.
The prince shuddered as he remembered the dead look in Anne’s eyes as she watched the woman die, putting aside his bowl of stew half finished and wrapping his arms around his stomach tightly. Aiden narrowed his eyes, about to speak up about the waste of food, but Tegan picked up the bowl and made to finish it, shaking his head at Aiden and narrowing his eyes meaningfully. The man in red sighed and pursed his lips, before shrugging jerkily.
“As fer your earlier question, ‘ighness - we’re protectin’ ya ‘cause we all know you’re the righ’ and true heir of the land. Should ya marry ‘er ‘majesty, th’natural order o’things would fall apar’. ‘Sides,” he added, look thoughtful as he looked up at the roof. “We were asked te.”
“B-by whom?”
“No one of importance,” Tegan stated once he was finished eating, piling Allen’s bowl on top of his and arching his back to stretch it, wincing as it snapped in a few places as if cracking back into place. “You should sleep, your highness - you’ll be leaving by the morning.”
“W-where am I to g-g-go?”
“Somewhere safe,” was all he said, before he disappeared out the front door. Aiden moved to the window as soon as he did, peeking out through the curtains and presumably watching Tegan until he disappeared, slipping into the shadows as easily as he had slipped out of them when Allen had first seen him. After a moment, the other man sighed, letting the curtain drop and heading towards the table, picking up the candle and heading towards the back room where Tegan had disappeared before.
“W-where are you g-g-going?”
“T’ge’y’some blanke’s, ‘ighness, don’ worry so much.”
Aiden disappeared, then, leaving Allen alone in the darkness of the cabin. He curled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around his shins and burying his face into his knees as he tried to take in all the information he had learned that evening.
Queen Anne was looking for him, just as he thought she would, and she had sent a beautiful man known for his hatred of the royal family out to find him. A man who knew the woods as well as the wolf-man who brought him to this cabin or the man in red who lived in it. Maybe he knew it even better. And the Huntsman would find him, because his family was in threat of Anne’s violent hand. He was being protected by an unknown force, with people of the forest he didn’t know whether he could trust or not, while being hunted down.
All because he was escaping an incestuous relationship with his stepmother. All because his mother had told him of a prophecy, where he would be the ‘fairest in the land’.
He squeezed his arms around his shins, holding back a shuddering breath that wanted to escape him, before unfolding himself as smoothly as he could when he began to see Aiden’s candle flickering in the room again.
“I only found ‘bout three, if tha’s alrigh’ wi’ye.”
“T-that’s fine,” Allen murmured, gratefully taking the blankets. He looked around for a place to sleep, before Aiden pushed him to lie down on top of the bed. “Oh, n-no, I c-c-couldn’t -!”
“Y’can an’ y’will, ‘ighness. Ain’ no one gonna call me improper fer makin’ the prince sleep on this ol’ floor. I’ll be up the ‘ole nigh’, anyway. Y’get yer sleep. Ye’ll need i’ fer when Tegan comes back fer ya.”
Hesitating, the prince finally nodded, slipping the boots off of his feet before curling up on the small bed, draping his blankets over his body and burying himself under them for warmth. He closed his eyes, the image of Aiden sitting down at the kitchen table facing the doorway imprinted behind his eyelids, and slowly fell asleep to the sound of patient humming, the words lost to him as darkness claimed him once more.______________________________________________________________________________________________
Zebediah left the day after his meeting with the queen, stopping into his hut for the first time in many years.
It was kept orderly, with the dust cleared off and the fire crackling contentedly in the fireplace, chasing off the chill of fall that was approaching from the North. The door squeaked as it always did, and the bearskin that covered it from the inside still hung there, keeping out light and wind and making the inside of the hut very warm and comfortable indeed.
In fact, there were barely any new additions at all that he wondered if anything still lived in the place, or if the old village women merely kept the place tidy in the event that Zebediah should finally come home.
That idea was quickly dashed, however, at the sound of running feet approaching the hut from outside. The huntsman turned, opening his arms to the mass of dark hair and pale skin that threw herself at him, thin arms wrapping around his waist and a thin face pushing against his chest as if needing to be as close to his heartbeat as possible, proving that he was truly there and not a dream.
“Zebediah!”
“Adiel,” Zebediah murmured, touching her hair and kissing her forehead gently, callused fingers taking in still-smooth skin, making him wonder what it was the young girl did these days. Young woman, he should say, finally pulling his cousin back a bit so that he could look over her. Seventeen and she was done growing, turning out to be a lovely thing with bright brown eyes and healthy black hair that fell to her shoulders. She was dressed in a blue dress that fell to her ankles, with a white smock and a blue ribbon to keep her hair back and out of her face, though it was loose now from her run.
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and full of tears, before she smiled at him shakily and lifted a hand to touch his face. “Cuz, you’ve become so pale that your freckles have gone into hiding, they have.”
“I’ll chase ‘em back in no time,” Zebediah said with a small smile. “I’ve got a bit of a huntin’ trip to make, and I’m only here to gather my things.”
“Oh, can’t you stay? Just one day, Zebediah, please? I haven’t seen you in such a long time, and I want to show you everything I’ve learned since you’ve been away. I learned my letters! And I know how to do maths!”
“That’s wonderful, Ellie, but I have to go,” Zebediah said, pulling away with a frown and making his way to the trunk which kept his things, “it’s for our own good that I go soon as possible.”
“Why is it for our own good?” Adiel asked, following after Zebediah and peering over his shoulder as he gathered his leather belt with his hunting knife and axe, stepping away quickly when he pulled out the bow and arrow he used to hunt down deer and the famous hart that had landed him in a cell with rats for food. “How is it that you’ve come to be released? Zebediah, what’s going on?”
Zebediah stayed silent, standing up and buckling his belt with steady hands, finding his quiver of arrows and counting the arrows he had inside before slinging it over his shoulder. Picking up his bow, and a sword for good measure because he did not know what manner of beast - animal or man, one could never tell in those woods - protected the prince now, he turned back to his cousin and leaned down, kissing her forehead and squeezing her shoulder.
“Stay safe until I get back,” Zebediah said, smiling at her tiredly, “and pack up anything you wish to keep with you. Soon as I’m done this hunt we are leaving this kingdom, and we are never coming back.”
He left without another word, ignoring Adiel as she called after him, asking him why she had a pack and why they were moving and why, why, why. He could see the queen’s guard that had been watching over his cousin slip behind a building as he passed him, thinking himself out of sight, and Zebediah almost took an arrow and shot him in the throat to prove that he wasn’t hidden at all. But he wouldn’t - that might endanger Adiel’s life.
He would not endanger her life.
He walked into the woods not too far from his hut, passing through familiar trees and listening to the almost-forgotten song of the birds and other small creatures; frogs and crickets and squirrels, chipmunks and deer all chattering away, paying no mind to the strange man walking through their woods. Zebediah had a memorable presence about him, and the creatures recognized a brother when he approached them. They kept their distance, however, for he was of wolf blood, and you never crossed a wolf unless you wished to be eaten.
Stopping everyone once in a while to inspect a tree, or to run his fingers over the soft earth underneath his feet, he listened and he smelled and he watched for signs of otherness; a sign of humanness that had maybe come across the forest and disturbed the natural order of things without realizing what was happening. Rabbits skittered passed him, a lark singing up in the trees above his head, and so far he could find nothing.
Zebediah continued to walk throughout the remainder of the day, plucking berries and other edible things that grew when he got hungry and taking down a rabbit when it came around the midday meal. When he came across the river that ran throughout the whole forest, he took a long drink from it, closing his eyes at the freshness he had not tasted in much too long - to used to dusty bowls and stale water with piss mixed in, because the guards thought themselves clever. It was then that he noticed something different.
A grey tunic, rich in material and obviously foreign, leisurely floated down the river’s length towards him. It was soaked through, though not so badly as to be ruined, and as soon as it was within reach, Zebediah reached out and snagged it, dragging it out of the water and holding it up to inspect.
It was a man’s tunic, with silken thread and blue stitching. There was a faint pattern sewn into the sleeves that he could barely make out; a brocade of some sort, patterns repeated over and over as if the woman who had sewn the creation had painstakingly sewn in each stitch with care and precision.
Obviously a prince’s tunic.
Anne’s pretty stepson had been here, then.
He rang out the tunic, stuffing it into his belt and walking through the river towards the darker part of the woods, looking for more signs of the prince as he went. Every once in a while he would spot a broken branch, grass that had been flattened, or, if he were very lucky, he would find little bits of cloth from when the prince’s clothing had gotten snagged by the trees and bushes he ran through. At one point he noticed the tracks of a large animal, and he wondered for a moment whether or not Allen had been eaten.
However, when he came to the cliff that dropped to the raging river that led to the kingdom the youngest prince had been banished to so many years ago, the animal prints had disappeared and instead there were the bare footprints of a man. A tall one, judging on the side of his feet, and one Zebediah knew very well. The man’s footprints head him to the edge of the cliff, where a large section of grass had been flattened; the prince had likely fallen down. When he went to follow more footprints, however, they disappeared as soon as they entered the forest, and it was then that he knew the forest people were working against him.
“Damn it all to hell,” Zebediah hissed, grip tightening on his bow and hazel-green eyes glaring sharply into the darkness of the forest. “Don’t think you can hide him forever, Tegan. I’ll find him, even if I have to hunt you down to do it.”
And with that he moved back into the trees, disappearing into the shadows and becoming part of the forest once more.