Happily didn't last Ever After
As promised,
Just a little mention before I get to the fic. This wasn't betaed, just proof read by myself like a gazillion times, so though grammar and spelling should be decent enough, after reading it so many times you're eyes start to see what you want them to see instead of what's really there. So, I'm sure a few mistakes slipped through the cracks. Sorry fellow Grammar Nazis... :)
TITLE: Happily Didn't Last Ever After (Sleeping Beauty/Little Briar-Rose fic)
AUTHOR: Maren, Rensong, Pegasusrider2002, whatever the hell you wanna call me. :D
DISCLAIMER: Briar Rose and her father (only name ever given in either the story or this fic is "The King" or father or daddy etc etc) belong to some long dead story teller that no one really knows, but in lack of suck knowladge, I give credit to the Brothers Grimm for writing her and Daddy down. All the rest of the characters are mine since Grimm didn't give me a whole lot to work with... :D
SUMMARY: The title pretty much says it all.
NOTES: I'm a sucker for happy endings, but only if the characters have to go through hell to get theirs. That's pretty much what inspired this fic, I didn't buy that whole "And they lived Happily Ever After" crap. Another inspiration to this would be the book and movie, "the 10th Kingdom."
Also, and I say this again, this story was never ment to be more then a little ficlet when I first started writing it. So, chances are that though I left the ending wide open for more, there might not ever be any. If you got a problem with that, you'll have to talk to my muse... ::points over her shoulder to the thumping and muffled complaints coming from her pad-locked closet:: :D
RATED: PG-13, I guess, for sorta graphic descriptions of war (in my opinion of what I think battles in the medieval ages might be like)
FEEDBACK: More then welcome as long as it ain't flame. :)
So, without further adu,
~*~*~*~*~*~
The sun had set. So lost was she in thought she hadn't even noticed the darkness that was now creeping in around her. She blinked in a moment of confusion, taking a heartbeat to gather her wandering thoughts and memories and come back to the present. With a weary sigh, she stood from the silk sheets and colorful quilts of the bed and moved around the room, lighting candles to chase away the intruding darkness. They flamed to life, each one shedding a ruddy glow on golden hair reaching almost to her waist, accenting her legendary beauty even as they reflected the sorrow that now filled her deep blue eyes.
Candles lit, she turned and walked to the window to see what had become of the kingdom in the hours that seemed to have passed with her mental wanderings. Her kingdom, now. Thornflower, the land of dreams. Left to her by a father who would do anything to protect his beloved daughter... even if it cost him his life.
And that was exactly the price he had paid, taking an arrow that was meant for her.
The familiar tang of tears threatened as she looked over the broken city beneath her, only half seeing it as the memories tried to flood her mind again. It almost looked peaceful in the half-light of dusk, shadows softening the harsh angles of crumbling walls and houses, smoke from fires not only of the hearth mingling with the evening fog. It almost looked whole again, the way it had been before it was ravaged by war. Before Daddy had died.
I miss you, Father...
He had always thought he would die on the battle field, protecting his kingdom from all the evil step mothers and queens and sorcerers and witches this land seemed so abundant with, fighting side by side with his soldiers instead of commanding safely from a distance. Even as he got older, he still fought, training with his men every day, his body staying as healthy and lean as a man half his age. He would die a warrior's death, sword still in hand.
Instead, he had died on his daughters 20th birthday. He had thrown a feast in her honor, to celebrate her growing up and becoming a woman in the eyes of the kingdom. It was supposed to be full of dancing and cheerful chattering, a chance to catch up with old friends and make new ones. Instead... it was filled with heartache, terror, and blood...
~*~
It was a single creature, at first. A skeletal being made from shadows and smoke, burning with a black flame that could be nothing but evil. It had appeared seemingly out of no where, passing right through the thick doors to the feast hall, leaving a scorched stain on the polished and carved wood where it had crossed.
They had all stared in shock at it's appearance, watching dumbly the thing opened it's lip-less mouth with a sick, wet sucking sound and let out a piercing and terrible scream, the sound echoing across the hall with the voices of thousands hopeless souls. And as the shriek still filled the air, it raised it's ghostly bow and sent an arrow flaming with that same black fire straight at the heart of a princess who sat frozen by the haunting cry.
She had seen it fly toward her frame by slow frame, as if the world around her had slowed down. And with each heartbeat, she could see the dark bolt of fire get closer and closer to it's target. And she sat motionless, trapped in her own body. A prisoner who could do nothing but beat her fists against the shatter-less glass that it had become and scream at her body to move.
She wanted to close her eyes... wanted to block the horrible vision of the arrow inching closer and closer from her sight, but even that simple action was refused to her. All she could do was watch as the moment of her death edged ever nearer...
...watch as her father's arm snaked across her chest as he grabbed her right shoulder. Watch as he pulled himself in front of her frozen shell. Watch as the black arrow sank deep into his back...
It was only a few heartbeats that had passed, but it felt like an eternity. And the moment his limp form fell bonelessly across her lap, she was released from whatever timeless spell that had held her. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, not noticing as several other creatures of lesser strength followed their leader into the hall and launched more arrows into the crowd, not hearing the hysteria and terrified screams that surrounded them.
"Daddy... Daddy, please don't leave me!" she pleaded, tears flowing freely down her face. "I need you... please, I am not ready for you to go!"
He only smiled weakly, the poison of the arrow already clouding his dark eyes. He lifted his hand to tuck a strand of golden hair that had escaped from her silver hairpin behind her ear. "My beloved daughter," he whispered, "you must be..."
And with a quiet sigh, his hand fell from her face and he was gone, a single tear falling from eyes now closed in death.
It was then that another scream ripped across the hall, so filled with fury and despair that even the hell-spawn froze at the sound, some with arms still upraised for the next strike on their victims. But this time, the cry came from a single young woman, still holding the body of her father across her lap, her blue gown stained with his blood. With a single movement, she stood and tore the black arrow from his back, not even feeling the black flame burn her hand. With single-minded determination and a force that proved she had the gods on her side, she turned and flung the arrow back at the nightmare from which it had come. The bolt flew straight and true, the fire now surrounding it the healthy orange of purity fueled by the girl's rage. It sank into the creature's skeletal chest with enough force to throw it back against the wall with a satisfying, meaty thunk.
The thing screamed again, but this time in it's own anguish as it burst into flame. The other creatures screamed in unison with their leader, before each one of them also ignited and burned into nothing but dust and ash. The leader stood and watched as his minions fell through a haze of acrid black smoke. It then turned eye-less sockets to the princess and once again opened it's vial mouth, the sound emerging from it's wretched form sounding as if it was coming from the bottom of the deepest, murkiest bog as it hissed, "It has only just begun..." And then it, too, exploded and faded to dust.
~*~
She shook her head, trying to banish the still too painful memory from her mind. The tears that had threatened before streamed silently down her cheek as she stood and looked over her broken kingdom. The memories seemed to be taking over her mind more and more often lately, and with such detail that it was like she was forced relived them all over again. She couldn't help but wonder if someone, or something had managed to put her under a spell again, just as a single bitter old woman had managed to do more then a decade before.
A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts before they could overwhelm her again. "Enter," she answered as she turned from the window, closing the curtains to cut the heart-wrenching view from her sight.
A young squire entered her bedroom, no more then 13 or 14 years old, light brown hair falling over cloud-gray eyes and crowning a face that still had a dusting of youthful freckles. But already he stood before her, his black and gray uniform smudged with the ash and dirt of the battlefield, cape draped around well-muscled shoulders and body, hand resting lightly on the hilt of a sword he carried at his waist. Even his eyes, which should have been bright and alive with a spark of mischief or a young man's first love, were hard and edged with steel from all he had seen. So young, and already he has witnessed the horrors of war first hand... Oh, woe is the day when even children must be called upon to fight.
"My Lady Rose," he said, bowing slightly at the waist in respect before straightening, "the Darkness comes..."
The Darkness. A shadow that moved across the land like a plague and turned all it touched into creatures that had only ever been seen in nightmares. It could resurrect the very bones of the dead who had died still suffering, including all the princes who died trying to awake her kingdom from the spell that had trapped it for 100 years. It could wrench them from their shallow graves, twist them and turn them, mold them into soldiers for it's dark and powerful army. The skeleton creatures that had killed her father had only been a taste of the horrors yet to come. Already it had taken Snow White's kingdom where it lay on the boarders of Hansgrim, and others were fighting and losing theirs as well. Rapunzel and her king, the people who had settled on the lands Jack had bought after defeating the Giant and returning the treasures it had stolen; even the elves and wood nymphs were fighting for their homes in an enchanted woods once thought infallible. And now my own kingdom is falling...
"All the populace of the city has left, Highness," the squire continued, "and under the leadership of your husband, a third of them have already reached our destination. All that remain are you and the few knights of your guard who weren't sent along to keep order with the people."
"And my daughter?" she asked, trying to hide the worry in her voice over the 13-month old child.
The boy smiled, a spark of old fire igniting in his eyes. "Aurora is more then likely in the process of being coddled to within an inch of her life by my mother, who took charge of her the moment she got word of the evacuation to Cinderella's kingdom. She was left with the first group of common-folk."
Relief washed over her like a wave, and she surprised herself by being able to return his smile, though small. "Thank you, Warren. I couldn't have wished a better guardian for her."
Warren's mother was the head cook down in the palace kitchens. She had attached herself to the young princess with in moments of her birth as her Nana, just as she had been for Rose when she was little. She knew that the woman would protect the child as if it were her own, as well as do her damndest to pummel anyone who posed a threat to Aurora into the mud. She had born 5 children, three boys and two girls, all of which were knights or training to be knights in the palace's army, so she was not lacking on experience with children. Warren and his twin sister, Wren, were her youngest, but none of her children, even fully grown, would ever dare misbehave in her presence as she could give a tongue lashing that would make the ears of even a hardened sailor red. Rose herself had had the unfortunate experience of being on the other side of one of the formidable cook's scolds when she was a little girl. Nana was a powerful woman, and even the bravest of knights would think twice before angering her.
"The last of us are waiting for you to give the word to leave, my Lady."
The squire's inquiring voice pulled her back from the memories that threatened to overwhelm her once again. She gave herself a mental shake, and focused on the squire before her. "Again, I thank you Warren. Give word that we shall leave within the hour."
The squire nodded and turned to go. "Oh, and Warren?" he stopped mid-stride and turned back to his queen, "Spread this order around the ranks..." she paused and swallowed tightly, fighting back tears that threatened to fall again at words she didn't want to say, "We are to burn everything that is left. Every field, every home, even the bones of our fallen comrades." She choked, and a few tears escaped before she hardened her heart and forced the final words around the lump in her throat. "Leave nothing... nothing at all behind for the Darkness to use against us."
Warren gave a short nod, his eyes once again turning cold as he also hardened his heart against the pain. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding, steel gray meeting ice blue...
We have no choice...
And then he turned and was gone in a flurry of black and gray cotton, walking proudly but without any excitement in his step. Rose knew that most young men like him, and even a few young women, dreamed about fighting bravely in the glory of battle, helping save their beloved kingdom all who would challenge it, getting songs written about their bravery and courage as they walked into legends. She also knew that for most of them, including Warren, those dream of battle and glory were crushed the moment they fought their first one and realized they survived while friends and loved ones had not. There was nothing glorious about war.
She had learned that all to well as she watched her people suffer and fought beside them. You fight for your life and pray that your actions give that many more people the chance to escape to safety. You harden your heart as you literally have to crawl over the bodies of fallen comrades, not letting your self see them as anything but one more thing to trip over on the battle field. Try to close your ears to the moans and cries of those still alive and suffering, because if you turn away for even a heartbeat, the enemy will strike you down and you will become one more hazard your side has to avoid.
And then when it's over, and you have a moment of freedom to think about it, you realize what you have done; that you were knee deep in death and blood and how you walked right over the top of it. And the realization is enough to send you running to the nearest area clear of bodies and severed limbs to heave until there is nothing left within you and all you feel is guilt and a gnawing emptiness. No, there was nothing at all glorious about war.
She turned from the now closed door and walked across the room to where her vanity sat next to the bed. She stood staring at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, unconsciously grabbing her brush and running it through her golden locks. Long gone was the innocent 15-year-old girl who had so carelessly pricked her finger on a spindle 11 years ago. In her place stood a Queen, hardened by 6 years of warfare against an enemy that only seemed to grow stronger as they past. She had long since traded silk dresses and colorful gowns for simple black riding leathers and armor bearing her coat of arms on their breast; precious gems and jewelry for a well made sword and a sturdy bow made for her specially by her father, a final birthday gift.
She tucked the hairbrush into the quiver with the arrows and separated her hair into three equal sections, pulling it back into a tight braid she could easily wrap around her head and cover with a helmet. She grabbed her sword from where it lay on the bed and belted it firmly around her waist. The bow was next, strapping the quiver across her back and throwing the bow over her shoulders. She then took two small knives and placed them in their sheaths, one around each forearm before pulling another one out of a drawer and slipping it into the top of her boot. Lastly, she placed a slender braided gold band around her head, the only symbol she ever wore of her title. She looked at herself one final time in the mirror and saw a warrior stare back at her. The carefree and delicate princess she had been was lost to her forever. Now, all she could ever be was Queen Briar-Rose, ruler and protector of Thornflower and commander of her armies.
She turned and walked to the door, fighting not to look back. There was nothing left for her here, what few belongings she owned beyond what she was wearing having already been gathered up and packed onto her horse, which waited down in the stables. And yet every muscle in her body scream at her to turn around and take one last look at what had been her home all her life. She paused at the doorway, willing her feet to keep going but having trouble making them listen.
Don't look back...
She swallowed her tears and forced her body to move forward, staring straight ahead and not even turning to close the door. It would only leave her open to more heartbreak.
Don't ever look back...
***
Hours later, they rode through the forest that surrounded most of Thornflower, Rose guarding their back despite protest of her guards.
"My Lady, it is not the duty of a Queen to be guarding our backs when we're supposed to be guarding hers," stated Soren, one of Rose's oldest and most trusted knights and advisors, as well as Nana's husband. "It isn't the way..."
"Soren, it is my duty to protect my people," she cut him off shortly, "I will not be pampered and protected like a delicate porcelain doll."
"Bri..." he growled just as shortly, voice taking on that gruff, paternal 'You will do as you're told, young lady' quality he got when he was trying to make a point. The use of the nickname he had given her as a child making it all the more obvious that despite being Queen, he was still for all intents and purposes, her father.
"Do not scold me, Soren. You know as well as I do that once my mind is made up, there is no changing it," she answered tiredly. "I am no longer the helpless child my father left in your care 6 years ago."
"But... My Lady..."
"You yourself trained me in all I know about weapons," she continued, not giving him a chance to speak, "and you know I could better any one of you're knights when using them. Maybe even you."
Soren sighed, clearly giving in. "As you wish, my Lady. But," he grabbed her arm before she got the chance to walk away, "at least keep a guard with you?"
She stared back at him for a moment, eyes glittering like she was going to refuse. But, finally she gave a slight nod of agreement and pulled her arm out of his grasp. She then turned and walked over to where her horse stood, leaving him the choice of who he wanted to send as her guard.
The one he had finally sent had been Elise, one of the Queen's personal knights and one of Rose's closest friends. They had grown up together and gotten into plenty of trouble when they were young. Chickens in the kitchen, stampeding livestock, and more, none of which Rose let herself remember for fear of being overcome by the memories. It was too much of a risk, here, now... not with the lives of the rest of the riding party on the balance.
The two of them road in companionable silence, Elise riding a few paces in front of her queen, eyes and ears alert for any sound. Rose rode much the same, keeping her mind on the here and now and using all of her senses for any hint of danger. They were riding through a slight clearing, the trees keeping their distance for the most part but allowing a few fingers to reach out from the forest and provide acceptable cover should anything happen. There wasn't any noise beyond the sound of the wind in the trees and the muffled clop of their horses' hooves on the worn dirt road. They were maybe 10-15 leagues from the castle, the clearing they rode through visible as a patch of lighter green amongst a hill of dark leaves when seen from the palace towers.
The palace towers... Tears threatened again as Rose slowed down and silently reigned her horse to a stop just before she returned to the cover of the trees. The rest of the party kept moving, not noticing as she distanced herself from them. She was grateful for a moment to herself, no matter how short it was destined to be. She knew it wouldn't be more then a few minutes before Elise realized she had fallen back and came looking for her. She turned her horse around for one last look at the country that had been her families for generations, despite her earlier promise not to. It wasn't a matter of choice, it was a matter of necessity. She had to say goodbye and not just walk away, leaving it to be forgotten. Thornflower deserved better then that.
As expected, Elise soon road up silently from behind her. She reigned her horse next to Rose's, and turned her gaze to follow the young queen's. Surprisingly, Rose didn't mind the intrusion. If she had to share this pain, who better then to share it with then the proud knight and beloved friend sitting beside her.
"What is to become of us now, Bri?" she asked quietly after a few moments had passed, the pain in her voice almost matching the agony and hate in Rose's own heart.
Her eyes glittered with the deadly fire of suppressed rage as Rose stared at the burning city beneath them. "Whatever it takes," she finally answered, her voice as cold and frozen as ice, "to keep this from happening to anyone else."
Just a little mention before I get to the fic. This wasn't betaed, just proof read by myself like a gazillion times, so though grammar and spelling should be decent enough, after reading it so many times you're eyes start to see what you want them to see instead of what's really there. So, I'm sure a few mistakes slipped through the cracks. Sorry fellow Grammar Nazis... :)
TITLE: Happily Didn't Last Ever After (Sleeping Beauty/Little Briar-Rose fic)
AUTHOR: Maren, Rensong, Pegasusrider2002, whatever the hell you wanna call me. :D
DISCLAIMER: Briar Rose and her father (only name ever given in either the story or this fic is "The King" or father or daddy etc etc) belong to some long dead story teller that no one really knows, but in lack of suck knowladge, I give credit to the Brothers Grimm for writing her and Daddy down. All the rest of the characters are mine since Grimm didn't give me a whole lot to work with... :D
SUMMARY: The title pretty much says it all.
NOTES: I'm a sucker for happy endings, but only if the characters have to go through hell to get theirs. That's pretty much what inspired this fic, I didn't buy that whole "And they lived Happily Ever After" crap. Another inspiration to this would be the book and movie, "the 10th Kingdom."
Also, and I say this again, this story was never ment to be more then a little ficlet when I first started writing it. So, chances are that though I left the ending wide open for more, there might not ever be any. If you got a problem with that, you'll have to talk to my muse... ::points over her shoulder to the thumping and muffled complaints coming from her pad-locked closet:: :D
RATED: PG-13, I guess, for sorta graphic descriptions of war (in my opinion of what I think battles in the medieval ages might be like)
FEEDBACK: More then welcome as long as it ain't flame. :)
So, without further adu,
~*~*~*~*~*~
The sun had set. So lost was she in thought she hadn't even noticed the darkness that was now creeping in around her. She blinked in a moment of confusion, taking a heartbeat to gather her wandering thoughts and memories and come back to the present. With a weary sigh, she stood from the silk sheets and colorful quilts of the bed and moved around the room, lighting candles to chase away the intruding darkness. They flamed to life, each one shedding a ruddy glow on golden hair reaching almost to her waist, accenting her legendary beauty even as they reflected the sorrow that now filled her deep blue eyes.
Candles lit, she turned and walked to the window to see what had become of the kingdom in the hours that seemed to have passed with her mental wanderings. Her kingdom, now. Thornflower, the land of dreams. Left to her by a father who would do anything to protect his beloved daughter... even if it cost him his life.
And that was exactly the price he had paid, taking an arrow that was meant for her.
The familiar tang of tears threatened as she looked over the broken city beneath her, only half seeing it as the memories tried to flood her mind again. It almost looked peaceful in the half-light of dusk, shadows softening the harsh angles of crumbling walls and houses, smoke from fires not only of the hearth mingling with the evening fog. It almost looked whole again, the way it had been before it was ravaged by war. Before Daddy had died.
I miss you, Father...
He had always thought he would die on the battle field, protecting his kingdom from all the evil step mothers and queens and sorcerers and witches this land seemed so abundant with, fighting side by side with his soldiers instead of commanding safely from a distance. Even as he got older, he still fought, training with his men every day, his body staying as healthy and lean as a man half his age. He would die a warrior's death, sword still in hand.
Instead, he had died on his daughters 20th birthday. He had thrown a feast in her honor, to celebrate her growing up and becoming a woman in the eyes of the kingdom. It was supposed to be full of dancing and cheerful chattering, a chance to catch up with old friends and make new ones. Instead... it was filled with heartache, terror, and blood...
~*~
It was a single creature, at first. A skeletal being made from shadows and smoke, burning with a black flame that could be nothing but evil. It had appeared seemingly out of no where, passing right through the thick doors to the feast hall, leaving a scorched stain on the polished and carved wood where it had crossed.
They had all stared in shock at it's appearance, watching dumbly the thing opened it's lip-less mouth with a sick, wet sucking sound and let out a piercing and terrible scream, the sound echoing across the hall with the voices of thousands hopeless souls. And as the shriek still filled the air, it raised it's ghostly bow and sent an arrow flaming with that same black fire straight at the heart of a princess who sat frozen by the haunting cry.
She had seen it fly toward her frame by slow frame, as if the world around her had slowed down. And with each heartbeat, she could see the dark bolt of fire get closer and closer to it's target. And she sat motionless, trapped in her own body. A prisoner who could do nothing but beat her fists against the shatter-less glass that it had become and scream at her body to move.
She wanted to close her eyes... wanted to block the horrible vision of the arrow inching closer and closer from her sight, but even that simple action was refused to her. All she could do was watch as the moment of her death edged ever nearer...
...watch as her father's arm snaked across her chest as he grabbed her right shoulder. Watch as he pulled himself in front of her frozen shell. Watch as the black arrow sank deep into his back...
It was only a few heartbeats that had passed, but it felt like an eternity. And the moment his limp form fell bonelessly across her lap, she was released from whatever timeless spell that had held her. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, not noticing as several other creatures of lesser strength followed their leader into the hall and launched more arrows into the crowd, not hearing the hysteria and terrified screams that surrounded them.
"Daddy... Daddy, please don't leave me!" she pleaded, tears flowing freely down her face. "I need you... please, I am not ready for you to go!"
He only smiled weakly, the poison of the arrow already clouding his dark eyes. He lifted his hand to tuck a strand of golden hair that had escaped from her silver hairpin behind her ear. "My beloved daughter," he whispered, "you must be..."
And with a quiet sigh, his hand fell from her face and he was gone, a single tear falling from eyes now closed in death.
It was then that another scream ripped across the hall, so filled with fury and despair that even the hell-spawn froze at the sound, some with arms still upraised for the next strike on their victims. But this time, the cry came from a single young woman, still holding the body of her father across her lap, her blue gown stained with his blood. With a single movement, she stood and tore the black arrow from his back, not even feeling the black flame burn her hand. With single-minded determination and a force that proved she had the gods on her side, she turned and flung the arrow back at the nightmare from which it had come. The bolt flew straight and true, the fire now surrounding it the healthy orange of purity fueled by the girl's rage. It sank into the creature's skeletal chest with enough force to throw it back against the wall with a satisfying, meaty thunk.
The thing screamed again, but this time in it's own anguish as it burst into flame. The other creatures screamed in unison with their leader, before each one of them also ignited and burned into nothing but dust and ash. The leader stood and watched as his minions fell through a haze of acrid black smoke. It then turned eye-less sockets to the princess and once again opened it's vial mouth, the sound emerging from it's wretched form sounding as if it was coming from the bottom of the deepest, murkiest bog as it hissed, "It has only just begun..." And then it, too, exploded and faded to dust.
~*~
She shook her head, trying to banish the still too painful memory from her mind. The tears that had threatened before streamed silently down her cheek as she stood and looked over her broken kingdom. The memories seemed to be taking over her mind more and more often lately, and with such detail that it was like she was forced relived them all over again. She couldn't help but wonder if someone, or something had managed to put her under a spell again, just as a single bitter old woman had managed to do more then a decade before.
A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts before they could overwhelm her again. "Enter," she answered as she turned from the window, closing the curtains to cut the heart-wrenching view from her sight.
A young squire entered her bedroom, no more then 13 or 14 years old, light brown hair falling over cloud-gray eyes and crowning a face that still had a dusting of youthful freckles. But already he stood before her, his black and gray uniform smudged with the ash and dirt of the battlefield, cape draped around well-muscled shoulders and body, hand resting lightly on the hilt of a sword he carried at his waist. Even his eyes, which should have been bright and alive with a spark of mischief or a young man's first love, were hard and edged with steel from all he had seen. So young, and already he has witnessed the horrors of war first hand... Oh, woe is the day when even children must be called upon to fight.
"My Lady Rose," he said, bowing slightly at the waist in respect before straightening, "the Darkness comes..."
The Darkness. A shadow that moved across the land like a plague and turned all it touched into creatures that had only ever been seen in nightmares. It could resurrect the very bones of the dead who had died still suffering, including all the princes who died trying to awake her kingdom from the spell that had trapped it for 100 years. It could wrench them from their shallow graves, twist them and turn them, mold them into soldiers for it's dark and powerful army. The skeleton creatures that had killed her father had only been a taste of the horrors yet to come. Already it had taken Snow White's kingdom where it lay on the boarders of Hansgrim, and others were fighting and losing theirs as well. Rapunzel and her king, the people who had settled on the lands Jack had bought after defeating the Giant and returning the treasures it had stolen; even the elves and wood nymphs were fighting for their homes in an enchanted woods once thought infallible. And now my own kingdom is falling...
"All the populace of the city has left, Highness," the squire continued, "and under the leadership of your husband, a third of them have already reached our destination. All that remain are you and the few knights of your guard who weren't sent along to keep order with the people."
"And my daughter?" she asked, trying to hide the worry in her voice over the 13-month old child.
The boy smiled, a spark of old fire igniting in his eyes. "Aurora is more then likely in the process of being coddled to within an inch of her life by my mother, who took charge of her the moment she got word of the evacuation to Cinderella's kingdom. She was left with the first group of common-folk."
Relief washed over her like a wave, and she surprised herself by being able to return his smile, though small. "Thank you, Warren. I couldn't have wished a better guardian for her."
Warren's mother was the head cook down in the palace kitchens. She had attached herself to the young princess with in moments of her birth as her Nana, just as she had been for Rose when she was little. She knew that the woman would protect the child as if it were her own, as well as do her damndest to pummel anyone who posed a threat to Aurora into the mud. She had born 5 children, three boys and two girls, all of which were knights or training to be knights in the palace's army, so she was not lacking on experience with children. Warren and his twin sister, Wren, were her youngest, but none of her children, even fully grown, would ever dare misbehave in her presence as she could give a tongue lashing that would make the ears of even a hardened sailor red. Rose herself had had the unfortunate experience of being on the other side of one of the formidable cook's scolds when she was a little girl. Nana was a powerful woman, and even the bravest of knights would think twice before angering her.
"The last of us are waiting for you to give the word to leave, my Lady."
The squire's inquiring voice pulled her back from the memories that threatened to overwhelm her once again. She gave herself a mental shake, and focused on the squire before her. "Again, I thank you Warren. Give word that we shall leave within the hour."
The squire nodded and turned to go. "Oh, and Warren?" he stopped mid-stride and turned back to his queen, "Spread this order around the ranks..." she paused and swallowed tightly, fighting back tears that threatened to fall again at words she didn't want to say, "We are to burn everything that is left. Every field, every home, even the bones of our fallen comrades." She choked, and a few tears escaped before she hardened her heart and forced the final words around the lump in her throat. "Leave nothing... nothing at all behind for the Darkness to use against us."
Warren gave a short nod, his eyes once again turning cold as he also hardened his heart against the pain. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding, steel gray meeting ice blue...
We have no choice...
And then he turned and was gone in a flurry of black and gray cotton, walking proudly but without any excitement in his step. Rose knew that most young men like him, and even a few young women, dreamed about fighting bravely in the glory of battle, helping save their beloved kingdom all who would challenge it, getting songs written about their bravery and courage as they walked into legends. She also knew that for most of them, including Warren, those dream of battle and glory were crushed the moment they fought their first one and realized they survived while friends and loved ones had not. There was nothing glorious about war.
She had learned that all to well as she watched her people suffer and fought beside them. You fight for your life and pray that your actions give that many more people the chance to escape to safety. You harden your heart as you literally have to crawl over the bodies of fallen comrades, not letting your self see them as anything but one more thing to trip over on the battle field. Try to close your ears to the moans and cries of those still alive and suffering, because if you turn away for even a heartbeat, the enemy will strike you down and you will become one more hazard your side has to avoid.
And then when it's over, and you have a moment of freedom to think about it, you realize what you have done; that you were knee deep in death and blood and how you walked right over the top of it. And the realization is enough to send you running to the nearest area clear of bodies and severed limbs to heave until there is nothing left within you and all you feel is guilt and a gnawing emptiness. No, there was nothing at all glorious about war.
She turned from the now closed door and walked across the room to where her vanity sat next to the bed. She stood staring at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, unconsciously grabbing her brush and running it through her golden locks. Long gone was the innocent 15-year-old girl who had so carelessly pricked her finger on a spindle 11 years ago. In her place stood a Queen, hardened by 6 years of warfare against an enemy that only seemed to grow stronger as they past. She had long since traded silk dresses and colorful gowns for simple black riding leathers and armor bearing her coat of arms on their breast; precious gems and jewelry for a well made sword and a sturdy bow made for her specially by her father, a final birthday gift.
She tucked the hairbrush into the quiver with the arrows and separated her hair into three equal sections, pulling it back into a tight braid she could easily wrap around her head and cover with a helmet. She grabbed her sword from where it lay on the bed and belted it firmly around her waist. The bow was next, strapping the quiver across her back and throwing the bow over her shoulders. She then took two small knives and placed them in their sheaths, one around each forearm before pulling another one out of a drawer and slipping it into the top of her boot. Lastly, she placed a slender braided gold band around her head, the only symbol she ever wore of her title. She looked at herself one final time in the mirror and saw a warrior stare back at her. The carefree and delicate princess she had been was lost to her forever. Now, all she could ever be was Queen Briar-Rose, ruler and protector of Thornflower and commander of her armies.
She turned and walked to the door, fighting not to look back. There was nothing left for her here, what few belongings she owned beyond what she was wearing having already been gathered up and packed onto her horse, which waited down in the stables. And yet every muscle in her body scream at her to turn around and take one last look at what had been her home all her life. She paused at the doorway, willing her feet to keep going but having trouble making them listen.
Don't look back...
She swallowed her tears and forced her body to move forward, staring straight ahead and not even turning to close the door. It would only leave her open to more heartbreak.
Don't ever look back...
***
Hours later, they rode through the forest that surrounded most of Thornflower, Rose guarding their back despite protest of her guards.
"My Lady, it is not the duty of a Queen to be guarding our backs when we're supposed to be guarding hers," stated Soren, one of Rose's oldest and most trusted knights and advisors, as well as Nana's husband. "It isn't the way..."
"Soren, it is my duty to protect my people," she cut him off shortly, "I will not be pampered and protected like a delicate porcelain doll."
"Bri..." he growled just as shortly, voice taking on that gruff, paternal 'You will do as you're told, young lady' quality he got when he was trying to make a point. The use of the nickname he had given her as a child making it all the more obvious that despite being Queen, he was still for all intents and purposes, her father.
"Do not scold me, Soren. You know as well as I do that once my mind is made up, there is no changing it," she answered tiredly. "I am no longer the helpless child my father left in your care 6 years ago."
"But... My Lady..."
"You yourself trained me in all I know about weapons," she continued, not giving him a chance to speak, "and you know I could better any one of you're knights when using them. Maybe even you."
Soren sighed, clearly giving in. "As you wish, my Lady. But," he grabbed her arm before she got the chance to walk away, "at least keep a guard with you?"
She stared back at him for a moment, eyes glittering like she was going to refuse. But, finally she gave a slight nod of agreement and pulled her arm out of his grasp. She then turned and walked over to where her horse stood, leaving him the choice of who he wanted to send as her guard.
The one he had finally sent had been Elise, one of the Queen's personal knights and one of Rose's closest friends. They had grown up together and gotten into plenty of trouble when they were young. Chickens in the kitchen, stampeding livestock, and more, none of which Rose let herself remember for fear of being overcome by the memories. It was too much of a risk, here, now... not with the lives of the rest of the riding party on the balance.
The two of them road in companionable silence, Elise riding a few paces in front of her queen, eyes and ears alert for any sound. Rose rode much the same, keeping her mind on the here and now and using all of her senses for any hint of danger. They were riding through a slight clearing, the trees keeping their distance for the most part but allowing a few fingers to reach out from the forest and provide acceptable cover should anything happen. There wasn't any noise beyond the sound of the wind in the trees and the muffled clop of their horses' hooves on the worn dirt road. They were maybe 10-15 leagues from the castle, the clearing they rode through visible as a patch of lighter green amongst a hill of dark leaves when seen from the palace towers.
The palace towers... Tears threatened again as Rose slowed down and silently reigned her horse to a stop just before she returned to the cover of the trees. The rest of the party kept moving, not noticing as she distanced herself from them. She was grateful for a moment to herself, no matter how short it was destined to be. She knew it wouldn't be more then a few minutes before Elise realized she had fallen back and came looking for her. She turned her horse around for one last look at the country that had been her families for generations, despite her earlier promise not to. It wasn't a matter of choice, it was a matter of necessity. She had to say goodbye and not just walk away, leaving it to be forgotten. Thornflower deserved better then that.
As expected, Elise soon road up silently from behind her. She reigned her horse next to Rose's, and turned her gaze to follow the young queen's. Surprisingly, Rose didn't mind the intrusion. If she had to share this pain, who better then to share it with then the proud knight and beloved friend sitting beside her.
"What is to become of us now, Bri?" she asked quietly after a few moments had passed, the pain in her voice almost matching the agony and hate in Rose's own heart.
Her eyes glittered with the deadly fire of suppressed rage as Rose stared at the burning city beneath them. "Whatever it takes," she finally answered, her voice as cold and frozen as ice, "to keep this from happening to anyone else."