Fairest {Part Four
“We’re meeting Dustin here.”
Allen turned towards his escort, taking in the man’s serious face, auburn hair, and wide brown eyes, before nodding and sitting down on a log nearby the stream. He tipped his flask into the water, letting it fill up with water before taking a drink, closing his eyes and sighing tiredly.
He had been walking nonstop since he had left the siblings’ hut with Russell, learning nothing from him outside of the fact that he was a drunk, very sad, and that his sister had been killed traumatically when he was a younger lad. Russell didn’t like talking about where they were going, who they were meeting, or why he was helping Allen at all. In fact, he would rather they didn’t talk at all, thank you very much. And so Allen had kept to himself, missing the friendly hospitality of Aiden, or the cool welcome of Jadis, or even the stiff company of Eli and Peyton.
He missed Doctor Liam terribly, with Cliff as his companion; he missed his tower and his books and his life before his mother’s prophecy had come true. He missed his brother, and his father, and his mother.
But it was no use missing things now, he thought bitterly, capping his flask and tucking it into his belt. After all, things would never be the same again.
“How was it that your stepmum became the heir to the throne again, highness?”
Allen looked over to Russell, brows raised up in surprise at the question. Russell wasn’t looking at him, too busy picking up stones and attempting to skip them over the stream. When it was made obvious that Russell wouldn’t continue talking, Allen sighed, shrugging his shoulders and turning back to look at the water.
“W-when my f-f-father died, Anne stepped forward and c-claimed me ineligible b-because of my a-a-apparent b-bastard status, and R-Richard was s-s-sent away to a far o-off kingdom.” He dipped his fingertips into the cool water, gaze faraway and unseeing of the woods around them. “S-she c-c-claimed the throne for h-herself. No one d-dared question her, after all.”
“But how can you be a bastard, when you’ve got your mother’s face?” Russell asked, turning to look at Allen. Allen looked up at him at the same time, shrugging his shoulders faintly.
“I d-didn’t have her gift for prophecy.”
“No, but you’ve your father’s gift of healing,” Russell stated with a shrug, turning back to the stream, ignoring Allen’s widening eyes. “Your brother took your mother’s gift of prophecy ‘cause it’s a gift that goes to the younger sibling.”
“W-what do you mean, my f-father’s gift of h-h-healing?”
“Didn’t you know?” Russell turned back to Allen, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “Your father, he healed my sister when our stepfather first hurt her. But after he died, our stepfather managed to kill her, and he fed her to our mother and I had to bury her bones. The Juniper tree stopped growing after I did that.” He shook his head, tossing a stone rather viciously and swearing when it didn’t even attempt to skip over the water. “That magic went to you; everyone knew it, ‘cause you always had this knowledge of medical herbs. It’s why the royal healer let you spend so much time with him.”
He stood up, then, suddenly. Turning towards the break in the woods, he shoved his hands into his belt loops and watched as someone came limping out from the darkness. Allen stood up warily, moving closer to Russell, though he didn’t think he would be protected by him.
A small man came out of the trees, hair light blond and eyes faraway blue. He walked with a cane, and wore a grey tunic, black breeches, and a black undershirt with boots of the same shade. He had no sword or dagger or hunting knife on his person, but he was surrounded by a feeling of strength and protection all the same.
He moved with the elegant stiffness of a bird, head jerking to the side as he stared at Allen with wide, wise eyes, before he twitched his head in a sign of ‘come over here’. “I’ve got ‘im now, Russell, y’can get back to yer mourning.” Russell left without another word, and the small man looked up at Allen. “Alright, t’en, name’s Dustin - and I’m Richard’s ward.”
“R-Richard?”
“Yeh, t’e same one.” Dustin turned around, limping back towards the forest. After a moment, Allen followed after him, his long gait the only reason he could keep up with the other man. “’e’s been working on gettin’ ye back on t’e t’rone since ‘e was first outcasted.” He stopped for a moment, cocking his head to the side, before narrowing his eyes and changing direction. Allen followed him in confusion, watching him closely. “When ‘e ‘eard you’d run off, ‘e decided t’take t’e opportunity as it was and grab ya, so he go’ t’e ‘elp of all the forest people. T’ere’s a lot of ‘em, ain’t t’ere?”
“It’s a bit w-worrisome, h-h-how many people are in t-the forest and n-n-not the castle village.”
“Yeh, well, t’at’s life, ain’t it?” Dustin shook his head, pausing again, before he narrowed his eyes and made a strange, bird-like hissing noise. Allen was about to ask why he would do that when someone stepped out of the shadows before them, and he stiffened as soon as he recognized him.
The Huntsman was still as handsome as ever, with vivid hazel-green eyes and freckles dotting his skin like weeds. He had a bow strapped to his back, with a quiver of arrows halfway empty, a hunting knife, an axe, and a sword strapped to his hip. He was covered in dirt, and not at all clean, but he didn’t appear filthy, either. He appeared very natural - as though he had crawled out of the woods itself. He reminded Allen of Gawain in a way.
“Wha’ are ye doing ‘ere, ‘Untsman? Yer no’ welcome.”
“I’m not here for you, birdbrain,” the Huntsman snapped, glaring at Dustin before looking at Allen. “I’m here for the prince.”
“I’ll kill ye before ye can take ‘im.”
“I’m not takin’ him anywhere.” The Huntsman stepped forward, staring at Allen for a long moment, before dropping to his knee and bowing his head before the prince. “I’m offerin’ my services.”
“W-what?”
It was the only thing he could think of to say, considering everything he knew about the Huntsman. He knew that the Huntsman was hunting him down, because his cousin was in danger of the queen’s wrath. He had a month, and the only reason he hadn’t been caught yet was because Tegan had been leading the man in circles. Yet now, here he was, kneeling before Allen, offering his help?
“Prince, the queen’s taken my cousin,” Zebediah said speaking to the ground. “She’s taken her even though we had a deal, and I fear that if I don’t help ya, my Ellie will be lost. I need your help. So I’m offerin’ mine.” He looked up, then, jaw clenched and eyes wide and hopeful. “Will you take it?”
The two stared at each other for a very long time, Zebediah pleadingly, Allen in confusion. Neither of them paid the least bit attention to Dustin, who was muttering and glaring at the both of them while tapping his cane against the side of a tree. Finally, after what seemed to be hours upon hours of eye contact, Allen looked away, holding out his hand to help Zebediah to his feet. The Huntsman took it.
“I ‘ope you don’t mind boats, ‘Untsman,” Dustin muttered, turning and leading the way through the forest once more, “‘cause we’ve go’ a journey across the river yet.”
“I despise them,” Zebediah said. Dustin swore bitterly, and Zebediah outright grinned, causing Allen to smile reflexively.
This would prove to be most interesting.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
They had to spend one more night in the woods, and so Dustin hobbled off somewhere in the dark, leaving the prince and the Huntsman on their own.
Zebediah moved around as if making camp were second nature, setting up a fire pit and finding wood that would be good for burning not too far from their chosen campsite. Allen laid out the blanket he had gotten from Aiden so many weeks ago, smoothing it over the grass and listening to the sounds of the forest around them. He was brought back to the present when Zebediah crouched in front of him, holding out a hunk of cooked meat on the end of his hunting knife.
“Eat that, I’m gonna go look for some deer for dinner and that should tide ya over ‘til I find one.”
“O-oh, alright,” Allen nodded, watching him with wide eyes, before Zebediah, too, disappeared, leaving Allen on his own. He chewed on the morsel quietly, curled into a ball and looking out at nothing while waiting for Dustin or Zebediah to come back, the fire next to him crackling loud enough to block out the sounds of nature. The smell of wood smoke filled his nose, a pleasant scent that soothed him and made him somewhat dizzy, and he closed his eyes, resting his cheek against his knees and eating half-consciously.
He was so out of it, half asleep and comfortable, that he didn’t notice anything coming up behind him until hot breath hit the back of his neck and a growl met his ears.
Allen stiffened, turning around slowly to come face-to-snout with a black bear. It was huge, standing on all fours and staring down at him with wide, animal eyes that did not recognize Allen as a man, but merely as food. He felt frozen, much like a snake’s prey when caught in its gaze, swallowing slowly and watching as the bear whuffed at his face before pulling back its lips in a sneer, drool dripping from its mouth and falling near Allen’s hand.
He started to move away when a soft voice hissed at him.
“Don’t move - just stay perfectly still.”
Following the orders without even bothering to see who it was, Allen breathed in and out shallowly as he waited to see what the bear would do. It seemed, for a moment, that it would do nothing - and then it reared back on its hind legs, letting out a roar of some kind, and Allen could feel a shout pulling itself out of his throat when suddenly an arrow was sticking out of the bear’s eye, and the animal was pawing at its face, thrashing madly.
He was pulled to his feet and away from the bear, behind Zebediah who stood before him with his bow drawn and an arrow in his hand. Saying nothing, breathing fast and watching scared, Allen watched as Zebediah knocked the arrow, drew it back, took aim, and fired into the bear’s throat. Its roaring growl died as soon as the arrow struck, and the beast fell down where it stood, shuddering before becoming perfectly still.
Zebediah waited for a moment, reaching back for another arrow, before deeming the creature dead. Letting the arrow fall back into the quiver, he made his way slowly towards the fallen creature, prodding it gently with his foot before dropping down to his knees, breaking the arrows and tugging them out.
“Looks like we’ll have plenty of supper.”
Allen choked on a hysterical bubble of laughter that threatened to pop out, before he fell to his knees and shook. Zebediah was in front of him in a minute, lifting his head and touching his throat to check the beating of his heart, staring at him in the eyes.
“Prince, you gotta breathe,” he ordered in a soft voice, as if speaking to a spooked animal. “You gotta breathe or else you’re gonna end up in a heap of trouble. And you don’t want that, yeah? C’mon, prince, just breathe. Follow my lead, yeah? In, hold, out, hold. Just like that. In…and out…”
Allen listened, following his instructions until slowly he shuddered into a steady pattern. One hand clung to Zebediah’s wrist, the other clutching onto the fabric of his tunic above his heart. Grey eyes flickered down to see a familiar tunic tucked into Zebediah’s belt, and seeing where he was looking, Zebediah pulled away his free hand, tugging the clothing out and showing its ragged state.
“I think you’re wearin’ much nicer clothes right now, prince, if I can be honest with ya.”
He sobbed out another laugh, squeezing onto Zebediah’s wrist and allowing himself to fall forward until his forehead hit his shoulder.
They stayed like that until the bear went cold.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Knocking three times on the door, Anne opened it and allowed herself into her guest’s room.
Adiel was sitting on her bed, staring down at her lap and plucking at the rich material of her pale blue dress, as if unsure of how to move in such expensive cloth. Her hair was braided and pinned back, pulling at her temples, and her eyes - such sweet brown eyes full of laughter - were quiet and solemn as she looked up at the queen.
“Adiel,” Anne said with a thin smile, approaching her, her gold and emerald grown swaying around her, “are you enjoying your stay?”
“Yes, your majesty,” Adiel said softly, bowing her head politely but still not standing up. Anne decided not to punish her for her insolence, as she was merely a little girl. “But…”
“But…?”
“I miss Gawain, your majesty,” Adiel said, looking up at her again. “I miss Gawain and I miss my hut and I miss Cuz the very most.”
Anne frowned, moving towards the bed and sitting down next to the girl. Adiel shifted away from her, presumably giving her room, and Anne reached forward, patting the girl’s hand consolingly.
“I know you miss all those things very much. Once your cousin returns with the prince, you shall have them all back, and everything will be as it was. You’ll see, my sweet.”
“Why is he looking for the prince?”
“Because Prince Allen is very lost in the woods, and only your cousin can find him.” Anne smiled, squeezing Adiel’s hand and standing up, tugging the girl up with her. “Come, let us go on a walk in the gardens. That will cheer you up, yes?”
“…Yes, your majesty.”
The queen led her imprisoned charge out of the room and towards the gardens, content in the fact that as soon as the month was through, the Huntsman would be returning with her prince, and she would finally possess the fairest in the land.
Just as she should.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Zebediah was not joking when he said he despised boats.
The prince walked over to the Huntsman, handing him his flask of water and watching as the man chugged it down desperately, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to chase away the taste of sick in his mouth. Allen sat next to him, arms resting over his kneecaps and watching Zebediah lean back on the boat, resting his head against the side and tensing every time the ship rocked too harshly for his stomach’s tastes.
“You have never sailed, I take it?”
“I’ve only ever lived in and around the forest, prince,” Zebediah ground out, opening hazel-green eyes and looking over at Allen through the slits. “I have never wanted to leave solid ground.”
Allen smiled, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder reassuringly, before dragging his hand back to rest against his knees. Zebediah moaned when another wave caused the boat to feel like it nearly tipped over, wrapping his arms around his stomach and hunching into a ball. Staring at him for a long moment, Allen bit his lip before reaching out, resting his hand on his neck and squeezing.
He felt something warm travel from his palm into Zebediah’s skin and, after a moment, Zebediah sighed as if in relief. The prince pulled his hand away from the Huntsman when the other man sat up slowly, looking over at Allen with questions in his eyes.
However, the boat jerked suddenly, telling them that they docked, and the two of them go up to their feet, Zebediah pulling Allen upright and patting his arm in a mute ‘thank you’ before turning and walking away.
They entered into a town with few people, all of them looking over at their small party with curiousity and suspicion until they saw Dustin leading them. Then they would turn away, pretending not to see them and going on with their day as if everything were normal.
Finally, they came up to a sizeable house, with a knight standing guard in the front. He was a relatively tall man, with stubble along his jaw and eyebrows that were most impressive. He dressed as casually as he dared, holding his sword in front of him and glaring at anyone who walked too slowly in front of the house, before turning to Dustin and his tag-alongs.
“This the prince, then? He even looks like Richard, damn.”
“T’e prince and ‘is escort, t’e ‘Untsman. ‘Ow is Richard, ‘e feeling alrigh’?”
“He’s better, now - not so much moaning ‘bout his leg these days. Maybe his big brother can help him out, eh?” The knight grinned up at Allen, then, before moving to the side and letting them through. “Now get in, quickly, ‘fore I have to chase off some curious villagers again. I want the hell out of this place - I’m missing a good man.”
“Gawain’s no man, Gerry,” Zebediah spoke up, crossing his arms and ticking his brow up towards his hairline. “You know better than that.”
“I’m not getting into this argument with you, Zebediah, just get the hell inside.”
Zebediah smirked passing by the knight after Dustin had already hobbled inside, followed closely by Allen. They followed the sounds of Dustin’s cane against wooden floors and a set of stairs, coming up to a room that smelled like a sickbed.
Pushing open the door, Allen passed by Zebediah and went straight to Richard’s bedside, looking down at the brother he hadn’t seen in years and feeling his heart break at the sight.
Richard was paler than he had ever been, thinner and with sharper edges. He breathed shallowly, his leg raised up and wrapped up as best as it could be, but Allen could see the blood still sluggishly dripping; the wound was not healing. Touching his brother’s shoulder, the elder prince winced when the outcast prince grabbed onto his wrist, wide grey eyes so much like his staring up at him.
“…So I see you’ve managed to get here without killing yourself,” Richard rumbled, his voice low and disdainful as it had always been and always promised to be. “It has been a very long time, brother.”
Richard had never been good at showing his true emotions.
“W-what has h-h-happened?”
“Nothing of importance - where did you develop that stutter? Was that Anne’s fault? I’m sure it was, the dreadful woman could make anyone nervous.” Richard closed his eyes, his grip on his brother’s wrist not at all loosening, before he looked up at Allen again. “Do you have father’s gift?”
“W-what?”
“Father’s gift of healing - do you have it?”
Allen frowned, looking away and thinking back to Russell’s words; thinking back to that moment on the boat not too long ago. He then looked back to Richard and nodded slowly.
“I…I t-think I do, yes…”
“Excellent,” Richard closed his eyes again, dropping his hand and folding it over his stomach. “Then you can prove to the council that Anne killed father.”
“W-what?”
“With the healing ability father never once turned sick - don’t you remember that? He would always visit us when we were feeling ill and touch our foreheads, and we’d be all better. We thought it was a father’s love, and mother let us believe that, but it wasn’t. It was his gift. Yet somehow father became ill and died shortly after Anne was old enough to take the throne?” Richard scoffed, falling into a coughing fit before settling again, shaking his head. “No. Father’s ‘illness’ proves to be a murder. Once the council realizes that and has the proof, they can remove her from the throne and you can sit on it, as you should.”
“It w-won’t be that easy, R-Richard, you must know t-that.”
Richard opened his eyes again, looking up at Allen and glaring at him. “Allen, I do not care how easy or difficult this will be. Father’s kingdom is falling apart, his people forced into the forests to live because half of them are cursed and the other half are in threat of the queen’s rage. The cursed cannot be healed because she keeps the best doctors to herself, and those who suffer her rage only do so because they threaten her status as ‘fairest’ - the only reason you’re not dead is because Anne has gotten it into her head to marry you, and if that isn’t sick I don’t know what it. It’s practically incest.”
“H-how can any of them t-t-threaten her s-status when the m-mirror has never made m-mention of them before?”
“Because they are in the forest,” Zebediah spoke up from behind the prince, leaning against the doorframe. “The mirror can’t see into the forest ‘cause of all the magic that’s been forced into it. That’s why the queen has the ravens - so that she can spy on ‘em.”
“Who’s that, brother?”
“…Z-Zebediah, the Huntsman,” Allen said quietly, looking back at Zebediah to see him staring at Allen intently. “Y-you seem to know an a-a-awful lot about the q-queen, Zebediah.”
“It’s not hard to learn things when you pay attention to what the forest’s tellin’ ya,” Zebediah said with a shrug, looking away from the prince finally to look around the room. “Sprites whisper about the dwarf princess all the time.”
“The dwarf princess?”
“Yeah,” Zebediah turned back to Richard, smiling grimly. “Story has it that the dwarfs adopted a little baby many years ago, with hair the colour of blood and eyes as wide as their largest diamonds. They cared for the baby and raised her and taught her magic and trickery, ‘cause dwarfs are nasty creatures with the habit of tricking you out of your gold and casting spells on you in return. Their princess was notorious for casting spells when she got older, tricking handsome princes and stealing their gold when they offered it to them in marriage. Look at your doctor Liam - he’s a good example.”
“W-wouldn’t the good d-doctor r-r-recognize the queen if she were the o-one to spell him?”
“What, you think Anne doesn’t know how to glamour herself like Gawain or any other fae folk? The queen’s the reason behind so many curses, and so many people don’t realize it ‘cause they don’t actually think the woman’s witchfolk. But she is - she’s witchfolk with dwarfs for parents, and ravens for spies. She’s a nasty piece of work.”
“And you learned all this…from the forest.”
“The sprites, the animals, and from eavesdroppin’ on the dwarfs themselves, highness I know naught about.” Zebediah smiled thinly at Richard, before pushing away from the doorframe and moving to leave. “Look, you decide what you’re going to do - I’ll be downstairs collectin’ an old bet from Gerry. Whatever you decide, I’ll follow - so long as I get to take out Anne’s favourite advisor or her knight, I don’t care.” He lifted a hand in a wave, disappearing down the hall.
“Your choice, princes.”
Allen frowned, turning back to Richard to see him staring thoughtfully at the place where Zebediah had once stood.
“Well this changes everything.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________
“W-why would a p-p-princess of the dwarfs w-want a human throne?”
Zebediah looked up at the prince standing in front of him, wrapping his fingers around his money and tucking it away into his boot after a moment. He stood up, stretching his back and picking up his bow, tapping his shoulder and jerking his head to Allen for the other man to follow him. They walked to the house’s kitchen, where no one was around, not even a cook. Making sure they were as alone as he wanted them to be, Zebediah turned back to Allen, staring at him blandly.
“What does a dwarf want more than anythin’?”
“G-gold,” Allen replied immediately, frowning. “B-but she has it. S-s-she could have left any t-time she wanted, but i-instead she’s g-going through the trouble of k-k-keeping her throne. W-why?”
“What does a dwarf want more than anythin’?”
“…I j-just said -”
“But they don’t want gold, prince,” Zebediah said, stepping towards Allen. “What a dwarf wants more than anythin’ is respect. Is power. They’re such little creatures, looked down on by all - but if their princess was queen, well. Can’t look down on ‘em now, can we?”
He was closer than he had been before, and Allen didn’t know quite what to do; whether he should move back, or step forward, or keep to the same spot. Zebediah answered for him, however, bending down and brushing his lips so close to Allen’s that he almost dared to call it a kiss.
“You used your father’s gift on me on the boat,” he murmured, Allen only knowing what he said because he felt them, not heard them, “so don’t go doubtin’ your ability now, yeah? You gotta fix up this mess, prince.”
“W-why do I have to?” Allen whispered, staring up into Zebediah hazel-green eyes and wondering for a moment if it would be okay to lose himself into them, if only for a little while. Zebediah stared back, before he smiled, the tip of his nose bumping against his cheek as he rocked forward before he reeled back, stepping away from him and putting some distance between them.
“‘Cause we got no one else.”
Dustin stepped into the room, then, before Allen could make any sort of reply, and spoke to the prince without waiting to be acknowledged.
“Yer brot’er wants t’see ye.”
Nodding, Allen moved away from Zebediah, following after the small, gimped man and leaving Zebediah by himself. The Huntsman watched after him, before swearing under his breath, grip tightening on his bow.
Damn.