Solanima t1_iu9mpw6 wrote
Reply to comment by Solanima in [WP] The sword clattered to the floor at the princess's feet. "If you want your happy ending, girl... then you're going to have to earn it." by reallygoodbee
~Part 5~
The light of the sun shone into the bedroom, promising an idyllic morning. Persephone stirred awake, surprised for a moment to find herself back in her own bed, but then remembered the events of the previous day.
If you want your happy ending, girl… then you’re going to have to earn it.
My lord, the only request I have is your daughter’s hand in marriage.
Forgive me, but I find your beauty… intoxicating.
How long do you think your father will live after you say the words ‘I do’?
A night of reflection and sleep had yielded no answers. A part of her wanted to go right back to sleep, but she knew that would only worry father. She sat up, stretching her arms and back as she yawned.
“Sleep well, Princess?”
Making a sound somewhere between a shriek and a squeak, Persephone jumped, pulling the covers up over herself and looking towards the open door. There, leaning against the doorframe, was Sir Anwir.
“Sir Anwir,” Persephone said, “This is… hardly appropriate behavior for our situation.”
“Good morning to you too,” he responded.
“I thought you returned to your home last night.”
“The king and I talked and drank deep into the night, and he offered me a guest room. When I woke up this morning, I found myself unable to wait to lay eyes on you once again.”
Those eyes looked her up and down, almost as if they could pierce through her thick blankets. There was no mistaking it this time; Persephone could see how he owned her with a single glance, how his eyes gleamed with hunger. The smile she had found so charming when he had rescued her now seemed too wide, his teeth too large and white.
Persephone swallowed, and said, “If you don’t mind, I would like to make myself presentable before we continue this conversation.”
“Of course, your highness.” Sir Anwir bowed low, and with a smooth turn on his heel, he left the room.
Persephone remained in her bed for several minutes. Her heart pounded, not out of love or pre-wedding jitters, but fear. This early morning encounter had triggered her fight-or-flight response, and she had found herself too paralyzed to choose either. She took a deep, shaky breath, and managed to calm down a bit.
---
With the help of her lady-in-waiting, Persephone prepared herself for the day. Her long blond hair was tied into a single braid that reached just past the middle of her back. Her makeup was simple, but brought out her sapphire blue eyes. She chose a dress that was more modest than the one she wore the day before, making sure that it was easy to move in. As the finishing touch, she attached her jeweled rapier to her side… just in case.
As she made her way to the dining hall for breakfast, she could hear the voices of both her father and Sir Anwir, engaged once again in conversation. Almost she turned around and skipped breakfast, but she knew that she couldn’t avoid them forever. She entered the hall, taking her usual seat on her father’s right.
“Good morning, my precious daughter!” the king said with warmth. “How was your bed? I imagine it was much nicer than whatever accommodations that Dark Lord forced upon you!”
“Much better,” she said. Truth be told, the room Melchior had provided was quite comfortable, though not nearly as extravagant as her own bedchambers.
“I still can’t believe that monster kept you to himself for over a week,” the king fumed.
“Don’t worry yourself, father. All’s well that ends well.”
“Words of wisdom, indeed!” said Sir Anwir.
The king laughed, and Sir Anwir joined him. Persephone was bothered by how quickly the two had bonded in such a short amount of time.
“Father,” she said hesitantly. “I would like to… discuss something that was decided yesterday.”
“Of course, Persephone. Speak your mind.”
“Well… I’m not sure I am quite ready to be married. Is there any chance that we could… call it off?”
She kept her gaze fixed on her father, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed Sir Anwir’s expression drop. It was subtle; he did not glower at her, but his smile was just a little bit subdued.
The king looked at Persephone, a concerned expression on his face. After a moment, however, he laughed. “What is this? Who are you, and what did you do with Persephone? Getting married to a noble prince or a valiant knight is all you’ve ever talked about! I was afraid that you would want to get married sooner, before the preparations were complete!”
“Your majesty,” interjected Sir Anwir, “Perhaps this is simply a bout of nerves, with her big day so close at hand.”
“No, that is-”
“Ah, that makes sense,” the king interrupted. “Persephone, don’t you worry about the wedding. I will see to it that it is the grandest ceremony the kingdom has ever witnessed; all you have to do is dress up and say your vows!”
“But father-”
“That’s enough, my dearest daughter. Give it a few days; you’ll come around!”
Persephone gave up the battle, turning her attention to the food that had just been brought out. She ate quietly as her father and Sir Anwir continued their banter.
---
After the meal, Persephone excused herself to the courtyard behind the castle. She entertained the thought of visiting Melchior again, but couldn’t think of anything she wanted to say to him. Was he right, or was she misinterpreting everything about Sir Anwir through the lens of Melchior’s clever deceptions? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to believe him.
With nothing better to do, she decided to spend some time practicing her weapon forms. Her rapier was sharp, but it was also lightweight and meant for more ceremonial purposes. She preferred the longsword, like the one Melchior had tossed at her feet.
Focusing on her forms, she did not hear Sir Anwir enter the courtyard behind her. She turned and thrust her weapon, only for it to be deflected by a dagger in his hand. She stepped back in shock, rapier still drawn.
“Sir Anwir, I did not hear you approach.”
He smiled, and sheathed his dagger. “I wanted to speak with you, if that’s all right.”
“What about?”
“Oh, just something you said at breakfast. You… wanted to call off the wedding?”
Persephone blushed. “It’s not what you think, I merely-”
Sir Anwir suddenly lashed out, grabbing her wrist and squeezing tight. She dropped her rapier as he forcefully pushed her up against the wall.
“Sir Anwir, you’re hurting my wrist!”
He relaxed his grip slightly, but did not let go. Gone was the smile on his face, replaced with a tight, angry expression. “You think that after all the trouble I went through to rescue you that I will let you walk out on me now? We will be married by the end of the week, and you will not complain to your father about this ever again. Are we understood?”
Persephone nodded frantically, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Good. I trust we will not need to repeat this conversation again. You will be respectful in my presence. You will show me your love and support in the presence of your father. You will sit alongside me, as the princess now, and the queen to my king some day in the future.”
He let go of her wrist, and stormed back into the castle. Persephone dropped to her knees, nursing her wrist and holding back tears.
---
~Stories by Sol
Solanima t1_iue4zrv wrote
~Part 6a~
(TW: torture)
From the window of his guest suite, Sir Anwir looked out over the kingdom. The sun had set hours ago, and the new moon in the sky offered no comforting light to the city streets below. He drank deeply from his goblet and set it down on the table next to a half-empty bottle of fine wine from the king’s reserves.
He continued to replay the events of the past couple of days in his mind, particularly when it came to a certain princess. She had been so eager to be with him, so grateful for her rescue at his hands. When had she turned against him?
He thought back to the rescue itself. He still couldn’t account for his unconscious state after his duel with Melchior. What had transpired between the princess and the dark lord during that time? What had he said to her in the week before she had been rescued?
His fist tightened in anger. Did he turn her against me?
---
Persephone had never run away from home before. She hardly knew what she would need to bring with her, or where she would go, but she needed to get away from Sir Anwir. Her father, bless his soul, wouldn’t listen to her. Maybe if she went missing again, he would hear her out.
Or maybe he would see it as another sign of pre-wedding nerves.
She sat on her bed, head in her hands. What else am I supposed to do? she asked herself. She looked around her room, lamenting the fact that she would once again be taken away from the luxury she was used to. Surely a free and impoverished life would be better than a gilded cage… right?
Wearing some dark leather armor normally reserved for her sword lessons, she grabbed a bag packed with what she thought would be the essentials, sheathed her heavier longsword, and left the room.
Sneaking through the hallways was tricky, but she knew every stone tile in the floors of this castle, and was able to avoid the guards on patrol. She descended the stairs, planning on using a less known side exit rather than the main gate, when she heard a sound that gave her pause.
A shout of pain, coming from the dungeons.
She knew that following such a sound could only lead to trouble, and that she would be wise to escape the castle while she had the chance. Such were her thoughts as she descended the stairs leading to the dungeons.
---
Solanima t1_iue53y8 wrote
~Part 6b~
Persephone knew something was wrong when she reached the security checkpoint and found no guard present. This position was supposed to be manned twenty four hours a day. The iron door across the room was left just a few inches open. Another shout of pain echoed from beyond; Persephone pushed down her fear and apprehension and passed through the door.
About halfway down the dungeon hallway, she saw a flicker of torchlight coming from one of the cells. As she approached, she could hear a chillingly familiar voice.
“What did you tell her about me?” said Sir Anwir.
There was a beat of silence, followed by another shout of pain. It sounded like Melchior.
“We can do this all night, Gestoll dog. Answer me!”
Persephone reached the light, and saw that it was the cell that had been converted into a torture chamber. Stretched out on a table or rack of some kind, his hands and feet tied to either end, was Melchior. A number of small cuts on his body bled, joining the bruises from his capture. Standing over him, his back turned to the hallway Persephone watched from, was Sir Anwir. He held a familiar dagger in his hand, and it dripped with fresh blood.
Sir Anwir grabbed Melchior’s hand, forcing him to extend his crooked middle finger. “Still bear the mark of the lesson I taught you when we were young, do you? Maybe you need reminding…” He held his dagger to the finger, preparing to sever it.
“Stop it!” Persephone shouted.
Sir Anwir froze, then slowly looked back at her. “Princess,” he said, with a cutting edge to his voice. “You shouldn’t be here. I suggest you return to your room for the evening; this does not concern you.”
Persephone began to sweat. To think, just a few days ago, it was Melchior she had feared and pleaded with. Just a few days ago, she had not realized who the real villain was.
If you want your happy ending, girl… then you’re going to have to earn it.
Persephone took a deep breath, and drew her longsword. “That is enough, Anwir. You have no authority to torture my father’s prisoners, and you have no right to threaten me. Leave. Him. Alone.”
The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to resist all but the sharpest swords. The silent standoff stretched on for nearly a minute, during which time neither Persephone nor Anwir moved. Then, Anwir smiled, and severed Melchior’s finger.
Melchior screamed in pain. Anwir let him go, leaving him tied up, and drew his own weapon. “It’s so unfortunate,” he said in a disturbingly calm voice. “The Dark Lord Melchior escaped his cell and took Persephone captive once again. I chased him back into the dungeons and killed him, but I was too late to save the dear Princess’s life. The city will mourn, your father will mourn, and in their hour of need, with no apparent heir to the throne, they will turn to me, the fiance of the late Princess Persephone. That’s a lovely narrative, don’t you think?”
With a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, Persephone knew that Anwir would have the advantage of speed against her longsword. She adopted the Plow Guard stance, holding the hilt of her sword down by her waist and raising the tip towards her opponent. Anwir held his dagger close to his chest and directed his sword towards her. Persephone watched his eyes, waiting for him to reveal himself.
Sure enough, there was a flash of emotion just before he lunged at her, sword outstretched. She was prepared, and parried his sword downwards. She moved in to strike, but he deflected her sword with his dagger. She backed away just as he swung his sword at her, trying to keep him at an optimal distance to take advantage of her longer blade. He moved in aggressively; she parried his blade again, but this time his dagger found purchase, slicing her cheek just beneath her left eye. She swung wide, driving him back for the moment.
The cut stung, and she could feel a trickle of warmth drip down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Anwir smiled sadistically, and moved in on her again with both weapons. She was forced to retreat, backing out of the torture chamber and into the hallway. He pursued her, striking a flurry of blows in her direction, not letting up for even a moment. She managed to deflect the more deadly strikes, but suffered a cut to her arm and shoulder. Following the movements of a sword was challenging enough, but that dagger kept catching her off guard.
Finally he relented, returning to a defensive stance but already looking for his next opening. Persephone was already feeling fatigued, and her wounds were not helping. She lowered her guard, letting the tip of her sword rest on the ground.
“Last chance, princess,” said Anwir. “Forget this happened, and we can live happily ever after.”
“If you can even call a life by your side happy,” Persephone remarked.
Anwir’s eyes flared, and he moved in for the kill. Anticipating this, Persephone raised her sword at just the right moment, and momentum carried Anwir into the blade. It penetrated his stomach and stopped him dead in his tracks. He dropped both his weapons in shock, grabbing Persephone’s blade and forcing it out of him. She drew it back quickly, cutting both of his hands, and delivered a quick slash across his chest. He collapsed to the ground without another word.
Persephone took a moment to catch her breath. She checked her wounds; they bled, but appeared to be shallow enough that they wouldn’t slow her down much. She took two steps towards the dungeon’s exit, but stopped short when she saw Melchior. He appeared to be conscious, but with the way he was bleeding after Anwir cut off his finger, he wouldn’t last long without help. With a couple of quick slashes, she cut the ropes that bound him to the rack. She sheathed her blade and helped him to his feet.
His hand bled profusely. Persephone was no doctor, but she remembered hearing something about applying pressure to a wound. She grabbed a handful of rags from a nearby shelf and pressed them against where his finger used to be. He inhaled sharply through clenched teeth.
“I know it hurts,” she said, “but keep the pressure on the wound.”
“Thank you, Persephone,” Melchior said weakly.
“I’m getting you out of here. Do you think we can make it to your castle?”
“Gestoll Keep will certainly be watched; we can’t go there. I might know of a place we can lay low, if it hasn’t been discovered yet.”
“Then let’s go, before someone finds Sir Anwir.”
Persephone led Melchior through the dungeons, past the (still empty) security checkpoint, up the stairs, and down the hall to the hidden side door, only having to stop and hide from a patrolling guard once along the way.
Once outside, the princess and the dark lord fled the city under the cover of the new moon. They did not know what the future held for them, but they both knew that their past was no longer safe.
---
The End (for now).
~Stories by Sol
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