[ONESHOT] The Princess and the Prisoner (1/2)
Author's Note: Written for carynrose's prompt.
For as long as she could remember, he had always been locked in that cell.
He had been there ever since she was a young girl, she had found out from one of the palace guards that kept watch over his small dungeon day in, day out.
No more questions, the guards had said. It was dangerous, especially for a beautiful young princess like her.
Still, she couldn’t help but sneak a peek through the rusty grates every time she delivered the morning meal - a square of hardtack and gruel - and pushed it through the little doggy-hole cut into the bottom of the four-foot-thick iron door that separated the outside world from the Most Dangerous Prisoner in the Kingdom.
Once, she had caught a glimpse of his hands as he reached out to accept the bowl.
For some reason, she felt a slight sense of relief at finding out that he hadn’t been chained to the wall, like some of the other prisoners here - their wails kept her awake at night, even though the stone masonry did their job quite well and most of the sounds were muffled.
His hands had been smooth and slightly pale - except for his fingers, which had been an unsightly rough shade of red.
She wondered why, and once, she had asked the friendly(ier) guard the question, only to get a smart kick in the shin.
She had been forbidden to enter the dungeons for some time after that, but she knew that her face worked wonders, and after a few days of pouting at the guards they had relented and she had once again been allowed to serve the meals.
That was another question she had - was she really that beautiful as others had proclaimed? Was her face really as shining, as bright, as serenely angelic as everyone had said that it was?
She had asked her parents, but she knew that their answers held little merit; they were her parents, after all. She had even asked the cook, who was her only friend - he had only laughed and slightly blushed, before returning to chopping the carrots.
Although there was a full-length mirror in her satin-draped room, and it reflected everything perfectly - even the moon shining hundreds of thousands of horse-gallops away - she still carried doubts. Secretly, of course. No one wanted a vain princess.
And when she came out of the bath at nights and admired her still-dripping-wet form - all the nooks and crannies and the curves of her body as it was revealed to the world - she couldn’t help but wonder:
Was she beautiful?
Beautiful…
The thought taunted her as she slept, taunted her as she woke, and even taunted her so much during her studies that her tutor had asked her just why, why wasn’t she focusing on her triangles and quadratics?
Because, she replied automatically, I’m not interested.
There had been a long silence after that and she had immediately been confined to her room, in which she spent her days wallowing in regret and self-pity…or so they supposed.
In fact, she found herself the happiest when she was alone, because there was no one telling her how beautiful she was. She couldn’t care less, honestly - she already knew the answer that would come out from their mouths, and she also knew that the answer would be what she wanted to hear.
Because she was the princess, after all. And you don’t call princesses ugly. It just wasn’t part of the job description of surviving in a kingdom.
Better to seek the knowledge of who hadn’t survived, the opinions that weren’t part of the safe-in-society, the outsiders, the loners.
And she knew a very good candidate…
It was dawn.
She took her bath, as usual. Not as usual, she immediately drew a bathrobe around her body the moment she let the water out.
The princess was in a hurry this morning.
Also not as usual, she didn’t look in the mirror once, nor did she apply any powder that was so grossly used by the ladies in the salon.
If she was going to get a fair assessment, powder was definitely going to be out.
She dried her hair with a towel and snuck a look out the window. The sun was already past the second-highest mountain; she knew from past observation that the guard who was on duty right now was - how does one say it - infatuated with her.
Although she didn’t consider herself immoral, she did consider herself somewhat firm-footed.
That is, she knew how to take advantage of the situation - very much so. That was the good part.
The unfortunate part was, he would only be there until the sun rose beyond the highest peak. Which would be about - and here she applied her astronomy skills for which she was acclaimed - in fifteen minutes.
Yes, she had to hurry.
The dungeon was empty, save for the aforementioned guard. He smiled when he saw her approach him.
She put on her best smile and as much confidence as she could muster. “I require an audience with the prisoner.”
The smile vanished from his face to be replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”
The princess broadened her smile. “It’s urgent…sir.”
The sir was what did it, she thought, as he unlatched the grating and rolled back the chains. “You have ten minutes, and not a word, you hear?” The guard implored.
She patted him on the back (which ought to ensure a couple extra seconds) and muttered thanks before, heart thumping, she entered the cubicle.
At first, she couldn’t see much of anything at all - there were no windows, and all she was aware of was a distant dripping of water from the porous walls that she realized were riddled with fungi as she ran a finger over the wet, fuzzy stone.
The only light came from the door and she wondered how anyone could live in a place like this, filled with so much darkness.
Then, someone spoke:
“Who’s there?”
His voice wasn’t rough and guttural as she had expected it to be; instead, it was surprisingly soft and supple and wound its way though the pitch-black room and entered her ears in a way that made her shiver.
The princess took a careful step forward, taking care to not slip on the rough woodwork below her feet. She inwardly thanked her decision earlier to wear slippers instead of her usual heels.
“Who’s there?” The male voice repeated again, and this time, there was a small sense of curiosity.
“It’s - it’s…” She suddenly found herself at a sudden loss to explain her presence. “I…”
“You’re not a guard.” The voice emanated from nowhere, yet everywhere as his dulcet tones echoed throughout the tiny room.
“No. I’m not.”
“Don’t take another step.”
She hesitated. “Why not?”
“Because you’ll run right into me, that’s why.” The voice was clearly amused, now.
The princess held out a hesitant hand and started probing her way, one tiny inch at a time.
“I can see you.”
She stopped. “What?”
“I said, I can see you.”
The princess whirled around, nearly losing her footing. “How? It’s pitch black in here.”
“I’ve lived in here for ten years. I’ve adapted.”
“Ten years…” The princess was struck by the thought of living the majority of her entire life in a cage.
“Sounds like a long time, doesn’t it?” The voice echoed softly.
“Yes.”
“So…why are you here?”
The princess realized just how stupid her reason for coming down here had been.
She inwardly cursed herself. “I just…wanted to get your opinion on something.” After thinking for a second, she added: “Prisoner.”
“I’m sure you have a battalion of servants to give you whatever advice you need.” The voice sounded slightly bored with the whole charade. “Why do you seek mine? And I have a name…princess.”
She was about to ask for it when the guard came back and knocked on the wall. “Time’s up.” He said, nervously. “Better hurry.”
The princess was glad to make an escape. “Goodbye, prisoner.”
“Goodbye, princess.”
She stepped outside and watched with a sense of forlorn melancholy as the steel grates descended and the iron doors closed with a resounding thunk.
The next day, she came back with a plate of her favorite vegetables.
The guard sniffed suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Sweet potatoes.” She said defensively.
“I’m not sure it would be wise. He’s a rough one, doesn’t care for the finer tastes of folk like ourselves.”
“I’ll be the decider of that. Can you open the cell?”
“I don’t like you going in there alone, princess. He could throttle you with his bare hands, you know.”
She had to choke back a laugh. “I can take care of myself.” She winked.
All doubts erased from his mind, the guard opened the door.
“Hello.” She said cautiously.
“Sweet potatoes.”
She was surprised. “Oh, you know this?”
“I used to have them all the time…back home.”
The princess held the plate just out of reach, in the light. “Would you like one?”
She barely saw it as a hand darted out of the shadows and grabbed the largest sweet potato off the plate and disappeared again.
It was the same hand, she was sure.
She put the plate on the ground and pushed it into the darkness and sat down carefully on the least worm-ridden ground she could find. She had learnt her lesson from yesterday and had kept it simple for today, wearing a knee-length dress with a knit jacket.
“Do you like it?” She asked, somewhat anxiously. So far as her research had shown, she was alone in the castle in her love for the yellow tuber.
“Mmm.” There came the sound of chewing from the far corner and she couldn’t help but laugh.
The chewing stopped.
“What?”
“Do that again.”
“Do what?” The princess asked, confused.
“Laugh.”
“Laugh…?”
“I haven’t heard the sound in years.”
The princess sat back as she contemplated going for ten years without hearing the sound of someone laughing.
She couldn’t imagine it.
The prisoner’s voice took on a slightly nasal quality and she realized that he was whining. “I want to hear it again.”
“You’re…you’re a person.”
The sound of chewing stopped again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She flushed, and was glad for the darkness until she remembered that he could see. “I mean…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come out that way, I just…”
“I understand. You folks lump all prisoners together. We’re all the same to you, aren’t we?”
There was no anger in his voice, just acceptance.
“No, that’s not really…” Her voice petered out into silence as she realized that he was right.
“See.” He sounded amused again. “I told you.”
“…Where are you from?”
“Ahh.” He sighed. “The elusive question.”
There came a knocking from outside that signaled the imminent arrival of the next round of guards.
“Tomorrow.” He said. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
For as long as she could remember, he had always been locked in that cell.
He had been there ever since she was a young girl, she had found out from one of the palace guards that kept watch over his small dungeon day in, day out.
No more questions, the guards had said. It was dangerous, especially for a beautiful young princess like her.
Still, she couldn’t help but sneak a peek through the rusty grates every time she delivered the morning meal - a square of hardtack and gruel - and pushed it through the little doggy-hole cut into the bottom of the four-foot-thick iron door that separated the outside world from the Most Dangerous Prisoner in the Kingdom.
Once, she had caught a glimpse of his hands as he reached out to accept the bowl.
For some reason, she felt a slight sense of relief at finding out that he hadn’t been chained to the wall, like some of the other prisoners here - their wails kept her awake at night, even though the stone masonry did their job quite well and most of the sounds were muffled.
His hands had been smooth and slightly pale - except for his fingers, which had been an unsightly rough shade of red.
She wondered why, and once, she had asked the friendly(ier) guard the question, only to get a smart kick in the shin.
She had been forbidden to enter the dungeons for some time after that, but she knew that her face worked wonders, and after a few days of pouting at the guards they had relented and she had once again been allowed to serve the meals.
That was another question she had - was she really that beautiful as others had proclaimed? Was her face really as shining, as bright, as serenely angelic as everyone had said that it was?
She had asked her parents, but she knew that their answers held little merit; they were her parents, after all. She had even asked the cook, who was her only friend - he had only laughed and slightly blushed, before returning to chopping the carrots.
Although there was a full-length mirror in her satin-draped room, and it reflected everything perfectly - even the moon shining hundreds of thousands of horse-gallops away - she still carried doubts. Secretly, of course. No one wanted a vain princess.
And when she came out of the bath at nights and admired her still-dripping-wet form - all the nooks and crannies and the curves of her body as it was revealed to the world - she couldn’t help but wonder:
Was she beautiful?
Beautiful…
The thought taunted her as she slept, taunted her as she woke, and even taunted her so much during her studies that her tutor had asked her just why, why wasn’t she focusing on her triangles and quadratics?
Because, she replied automatically, I’m not interested.
There had been a long silence after that and she had immediately been confined to her room, in which she spent her days wallowing in regret and self-pity…or so they supposed.
In fact, she found herself the happiest when she was alone, because there was no one telling her how beautiful she was. She couldn’t care less, honestly - she already knew the answer that would come out from their mouths, and she also knew that the answer would be what she wanted to hear.
Because she was the princess, after all. And you don’t call princesses ugly. It just wasn’t part of the job description of surviving in a kingdom.
Better to seek the knowledge of who hadn’t survived, the opinions that weren’t part of the safe-in-society, the outsiders, the loners.
And she knew a very good candidate…
It was dawn.
She took her bath, as usual. Not as usual, she immediately drew a bathrobe around her body the moment she let the water out.
The princess was in a hurry this morning.
Also not as usual, she didn’t look in the mirror once, nor did she apply any powder that was so grossly used by the ladies in the salon.
If she was going to get a fair assessment, powder was definitely going to be out.
She dried her hair with a towel and snuck a look out the window. The sun was already past the second-highest mountain; she knew from past observation that the guard who was on duty right now was - how does one say it - infatuated with her.
Although she didn’t consider herself immoral, she did consider herself somewhat firm-footed.
That is, she knew how to take advantage of the situation - very much so. That was the good part.
The unfortunate part was, he would only be there until the sun rose beyond the highest peak. Which would be about - and here she applied her astronomy skills for which she was acclaimed - in fifteen minutes.
Yes, she had to hurry.
The dungeon was empty, save for the aforementioned guard. He smiled when he saw her approach him.
She put on her best smile and as much confidence as she could muster. “I require an audience with the prisoner.”
The smile vanished from his face to be replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”
The princess broadened her smile. “It’s urgent…sir.”
The sir was what did it, she thought, as he unlatched the grating and rolled back the chains. “You have ten minutes, and not a word, you hear?” The guard implored.
She patted him on the back (which ought to ensure a couple extra seconds) and muttered thanks before, heart thumping, she entered the cubicle.
At first, she couldn’t see much of anything at all - there were no windows, and all she was aware of was a distant dripping of water from the porous walls that she realized were riddled with fungi as she ran a finger over the wet, fuzzy stone.
The only light came from the door and she wondered how anyone could live in a place like this, filled with so much darkness.
Then, someone spoke:
“Who’s there?”
His voice wasn’t rough and guttural as she had expected it to be; instead, it was surprisingly soft and supple and wound its way though the pitch-black room and entered her ears in a way that made her shiver.
The princess took a careful step forward, taking care to not slip on the rough woodwork below her feet. She inwardly thanked her decision earlier to wear slippers instead of her usual heels.
“Who’s there?” The male voice repeated again, and this time, there was a small sense of curiosity.
“It’s - it’s…” She suddenly found herself at a sudden loss to explain her presence. “I…”
“You’re not a guard.” The voice emanated from nowhere, yet everywhere as his dulcet tones echoed throughout the tiny room.
“No. I’m not.”
“Don’t take another step.”
She hesitated. “Why not?”
“Because you’ll run right into me, that’s why.” The voice was clearly amused, now.
The princess held out a hesitant hand and started probing her way, one tiny inch at a time.
“I can see you.”
She stopped. “What?”
“I said, I can see you.”
The princess whirled around, nearly losing her footing. “How? It’s pitch black in here.”
“I’ve lived in here for ten years. I’ve adapted.”
“Ten years…” The princess was struck by the thought of living the majority of her entire life in a cage.
“Sounds like a long time, doesn’t it?” The voice echoed softly.
“Yes.”
“So…why are you here?”
The princess realized just how stupid her reason for coming down here had been.
She inwardly cursed herself. “I just…wanted to get your opinion on something.” After thinking for a second, she added: “Prisoner.”
“I’m sure you have a battalion of servants to give you whatever advice you need.” The voice sounded slightly bored with the whole charade. “Why do you seek mine? And I have a name…princess.”
She was about to ask for it when the guard came back and knocked on the wall. “Time’s up.” He said, nervously. “Better hurry.”
The princess was glad to make an escape. “Goodbye, prisoner.”
“Goodbye, princess.”
She stepped outside and watched with a sense of forlorn melancholy as the steel grates descended and the iron doors closed with a resounding thunk.
The next day, she came back with a plate of her favorite vegetables.
The guard sniffed suspiciously. “What’s this?”
“Sweet potatoes.” She said defensively.
“I’m not sure it would be wise. He’s a rough one, doesn’t care for the finer tastes of folk like ourselves.”
“I’ll be the decider of that. Can you open the cell?”
“I don’t like you going in there alone, princess. He could throttle you with his bare hands, you know.”
She had to choke back a laugh. “I can take care of myself.” She winked.
All doubts erased from his mind, the guard opened the door.
“Hello.” She said cautiously.
“Sweet potatoes.”
She was surprised. “Oh, you know this?”
“I used to have them all the time…back home.”
The princess held the plate just out of reach, in the light. “Would you like one?”
She barely saw it as a hand darted out of the shadows and grabbed the largest sweet potato off the plate and disappeared again.
It was the same hand, she was sure.
She put the plate on the ground and pushed it into the darkness and sat down carefully on the least worm-ridden ground she could find. She had learnt her lesson from yesterday and had kept it simple for today, wearing a knee-length dress with a knit jacket.
“Do you like it?” She asked, somewhat anxiously. So far as her research had shown, she was alone in the castle in her love for the yellow tuber.
“Mmm.” There came the sound of chewing from the far corner and she couldn’t help but laugh.
The chewing stopped.
“What?”
“Do that again.”
“Do what?” The princess asked, confused.
“Laugh.”
“Laugh…?”
“I haven’t heard the sound in years.”
The princess sat back as she contemplated going for ten years without hearing the sound of someone laughing.
She couldn’t imagine it.
The prisoner’s voice took on a slightly nasal quality and she realized that he was whining. “I want to hear it again.”
“You’re…you’re a person.”
The sound of chewing stopped again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She flushed, and was glad for the darkness until she remembered that he could see. “I mean…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come out that way, I just…”
“I understand. You folks lump all prisoners together. We’re all the same to you, aren’t we?”
There was no anger in his voice, just acceptance.
“No, that’s not really…” Her voice petered out into silence as she realized that he was right.
“See.” He sounded amused again. “I told you.”
“…Where are you from?”
“Ahh.” He sighed. “The elusive question.”
There came a knocking from outside that signaled the imminent arrival of the next round of guards.
“Tomorrow.” He said. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”