A/N: The Prologue was originally written for Day 8 (Theme: Lilies [Freedom]) of RivaMikaWeek in June 2014.
This was somewhat inspired by the Chinese costume dramas that I watched far too much of as a kid. I honestly have no clue why I am starting another chaptered fic while Musou is still going on, but the idea first came to me a long while ago and I couldn't restrain it for much longer, especially because of how canon developments have…ironically caused this concept to become more sensible than it could've been.
Also, this is not meant to be an actual Medieval Europe AU because I have weak command of the culture and "Old English" - just consider it a universe run under a feudal-like system with similar class differentiations. Nevertheless, I'm using Latin for the title. "Dulcius Ex Asperis" means "After Difficulty, Sweetness."
Dulcius Ex Asperis
.Prologue.
Summary: A lost prince, a false princess, and the cobwebs of fate that bind an entire kingdom's future. RivaMika.
Wails resonated throughout the castle halls, where even the blazing torches lining antiquated walls flickered against the extraordinary force of each tragic echo. The howling sobs conveyed the worst of misfortunes, as if foretelling catastrophes that might soon befall the unsuspecting monarchy.
Kitts Woerman, the Duke of Sina, promenaded down one such corridor, entirely unperturbed by the agony inundating his eardrums. His steps actually led him closer and closer to the origin of such cries, stopping only once he reached the innermost chamber, occupied by a few emotional servants who shakily surrounded a blood-soaked bed.
"The Queen is dead?" Watching the ghastly scene with dispassion, he addressed the brash question to no one in particular.
A humbly-dressed woman, face contorted with sorrow, quickly approached him. As he recognized Kalura, the trusted midwife of the royals, the Duke motioned for her to retreat with him into the hallway prior to continuing their conversation. As soon as they were outside of earshot, uncontrollable tears flowed down her porcelain skin before dripping unto her apron, where alarming stains of red painted a silent tale of horror.
"My Lord …it is as you said…the childbirth has taken Her Majesty's life…" Voice trembling, she confirmed the dreadful outcome. "Someone has already…gone to fetch the King…he could not come earlier due to…due to his own illness…"
He regarded her with indifference, unmoved by what to him were now trivial matters. "And where is the child?"
Kalura dabbled her eyes with the edges of a handkerchief. "I've taken him to another room."
"Him?" At the undesirable trait, Lord Woerman reacted with vague disgust. "So we have a prince."
"Yes."
"Who in the birthing chamber is aware of his gender, Kalura?"
"Only myself…I was responsible for the delivery, and I brought him away quickly to wash him…" The response was honest and imprudent, for the woman suspected nothing from the inquiry. "I have yet to inform the others who arrived later..."
"I see." At last, he felt a hint of relief and satisfaction. "Good."
Noticing the sly smirk that began to surface upon the Duke's face, Kalura placed her unrestrained emotions under control, even attempting to step backward in caution. But when her heel knocked against the coarse wall surface, suggesting the lack of an escape route, the taller man's shadow suddenly became more smothering than ever.
"You live in the east quarter, do you not?" Lord Woerman eyes now flashed with malevolence. "Along with your husband and your only son, Eren?"
The tremors in her speech now stemmed from fear rather than grief. "…ye…yes?"
"Then you, Kalura, will be responsible for a very important task."
She felt powerless under his vicious glare, and for a moment she shuddered at the realization that sincerity might subject her to a doom worse than death. Before the strength in her legs gave out, however, the Duke nonchalantly tossed an object into her arms. She caught it on pure reflex, detecting disc-like shapes as the contents clinked against one another upon impact.
"My Lord?" She stared at the burlap pouch within her grasp.
"Some gold for your trouble."
She ignored his gestures for her to open the gift, since the action would no doubt relegate her to abide by treacherous vows. "What…trouble?"
"There was another recent birth in the southern forest district – a daughter who has unfortunately been…orphaned since her arrival into our world hours ago." Still maintaining a daunting stance, The Duke finally disclosed the full magnitude of his expectations. "Go there now with the newborn prince and bring her back to the castle instead. I have men already waiting there to conduct the exchange."
Her mind thundered with the grave implications of this assignment, for it entangled her into colossal matters she was never meant to take part in. Involvement would bring permanent conclusion to the moralities she had always adhered by, but she knew that objection would no doubt trigger her physical demise, if not worse.
"I…I don't understand…what do you mean by 'exchange?'" For now, she could only stall, hoping that feigning foolishness would somehow rescue her from a wretched fate.
"There was never a prince, Kalura. Only a precious princess who will suffer with no mother and an incompetent father."
Sensing no reprieve, she made one final attempt to simply return the payment, only to be met with unopened arms.
"Why…why are you doing this?" She protested while the pouch fell to the ground, the movement of which prompted her to quickly shift aside, as if it were now covered with the most deadly of toxins.
In a rare act, the Duke actually bent down in front of her – though only to retrieve the gold. "Is it not obvious?" He released a wicked hiss as he stood and dangled the prize next to her eyes. "A princess – a future queen - will always be much easier for the nobility to control, even after she is of age to rule."
Kalura shuddered once more at the foul intentions of the power-hungry noble, wishing that she actually possessed power to counter or expose such conspiracies. But everyone within the castle knew that the benevolent young King and Queen never held true authority compared to the aristocrats, who triumphed by their sheer quantity alone. Time and again, policies favoring the upper class slipped into the laws of the land, and the people blindly placed blame on the monarchs, who always took responsibility by diplomatic methods. Yet now, their kindness would never be compensated due to the Queen's untimely death, and the wounds from that loss would only be salted if she were to betray their confidence – and their one and only son.
As soon as she considered approaching others for help, however, the Duke dashed all such hopes with a definitive threat – one given with such force that his face practically twisted with malice.
"If you don't want your own precious child hurt, woman, you will go make the exchange AT ONCE."
Eren. Memories of the toddler's vibrant green eyes now brought her to a dead end, where days of undisturbed joy began to rot away with little chance for recovery. And at that moment, Kalura knew that she would have to sacrifice her entire humanity in order to protect the life of her flesh and blood, even if it meant that their future would be forever plagued by her unforgivable sins.
"What…will your men do with the prince?" Defeated, she asked a question she did not necessarily want the answer to.
Sensing victory, Lord Woerman sneered.
"The same thing that they will do to Eren if you do not begin your task soon."
Her eyes squeezed shut on instinct, already mourning the fate of the newborn that rested mere steps away. They now shared a cursed fate, though his would take on an evanescent nature, never to be experienced with actual awareness. She felt envy then, for at least the fledgling monarch's destiny would be ushered into the stars with immediacy, never to cross paths with the evils of this world.
"I will keep everyone distracted and take responsibility for your dismissal after you return." Across from her, Lord Woerman continued to describe his cover-up. "The official report will state that you became far too distraught to remain at your position…your family should live on splendidly with your reward, anyway."
"Keep your gold." She bit out with her own degree of insolence. "I will not accept it."
"So virtuous indeed…" At last, the gold pouch was tucked away again, and the Duke's final words were both impressed and snide. "The King is lucky to have such a loyal servant in you, Kalura. Well, that is – unless he ever discovers what you have done today."
She trudged through the woods, forcing aside stray branches and stepping over rogue roots, all the while ensuring that the straw basket beneath her arm was well-protected from even the most miniscule of insects. If she were to deliver the young prince to his last moments, Kalura at least wanted to shield him from harm for as long as possible, even if only to redeem herself in some warped manner. Between carefully arranged woolen blankets slept the unnamed infant, whose short, dark lashes did not even flutter as this grim journey continued in the twilight.
What seemed like hours later, she came across the modest cabin that marked her destination, with its stone exterior appearing innocuous until she also noticed the state of the front windows. Rather than reflecting the warm rays of the sun, the square panels were lined with freshly broken glass, and each jagged edge denoted sinister conclusions for the residents within.
With trepidation, she walked up to the front entrance. Just as she raised an arm to knock, however, the door flew open, and the motion almost shocked her into falling backward. What greeted her on the other side was a giant of a man, donning unkempt layers of animal skin over his burly body. Greasy strands of long hair fell at the sides of his bearded face, and tiny, beady eyes scanned her with suspicion. What terrified Kalura the most, however, was the rusted sword held at his side, still tarnished with fresh blotches of dark red.
Before she could stammer out her intentions, his eyes landed upon the basket, and a series of nearly indecipherable grunts followed.
"You are the one receiving the girl?"
Swallowing back her fears, she nodded slowly.
Without a second word, the man turned back towards the interior of the cabin. But before he slammed the door shut, Kalura caught the glimpse of a pale arm on the ground behind him, resting lifelessly in a pool of blood. Bile rose up her throat violently, but in order to not disturb her companion's serene condition, she gulped the substance with as much effort as how she had just placed any terrors under restriction. Like earlier, the circumstances here were completely out of her control, and all she could do was recite an abridged prayer to whatever deities that still bothered to watch over them all.
Barely a minute later, the unrepentant slaughterer returned, and similar to that pouch of gold, a wrapped bundle was shoved into her arms like a soiled liability.
"Be careful with her!" She protested the vehement action, temporarily forgetting exactly who she was speaking to.
The sharp edge of a blade rose against her neck as swiftly as her words ended, causing her to gasp at the gory scent that now invaded her nostrils.
"Quiet." The order was simple.
Keeping her head stationary, Kalura gave a quick glance past the menacing glint of metal, examining the tiny form that just arrived into her embrace. Despite the abrupt movements she was just subjected to, the infant remained in an unconscious state, and her appearance was vastly identical to the prince's – short dark lashes, fine tufts of obsidian hair, a defined miniature nose – even if anyone besides her had actually seen the baby's face prior to the Queen's death, they would still have no reservations believing them to be one and the same.
Focusing her gaze on the girl, she retreated away from the unforgiving sword, offering the basket to her aggressor as she did so.
"I was told…to leave him with you."
Lowering the weapon marginally, the man scoffed and sent an uncivilized spit to the side. "We do not care to even touch a child of royal blood." His words continued to come in bouts of grunts. "Just abandon him for the animals and vultures on your way out of the forest."
"But-" She started to protest, but the door had slammed shut once more, perhaps permanently.
With little intention of staying put, she quickly knelt upon the ground, shifting blankets around before carefully depositing her new companion within her makeshift carrier. The prince stirred at the intrusion of another guest, but before long the two newborns nestled together, somehow forming a hushed agreement to share the stifling space. Kalura observed the sight with astonishment, and her heart clenched at the thought that she would still need to obey the Duke's command – and now his coconspirator's equally inconceivable suggestion.
Perhaps, perhaps I will encounter someone willing to claim responsibility for him…
The return trek proved far more perilous, with her needing to balance all her steps against the additional weight in her possession. Each time she nearly collapsed, whether due to carelessness or simply duress, renewed strength entered her limbs, for Kalura now realized that the prince had been granted a bizarre form of mercy. So rather than following a straight trail out of the woods, she veered off-course every once in a while, hoping to discover another clandestine cabin or some kindhearted hunters who might ease her plight.
A futile period of unknown length passed, and she knew time was running out. But when she passed by the shores of a small lake near the boundary of the forest, she was relieved to finally overhear the distinct laughter of male bathers. Struggling to remain covert, she crawled along the soil to spy upon the strangers who were, perhaps, her last hope.
To her chagrin, the sight of two half-naked bandits having a water fight was not exactly promising, but as Kalura watched the carefree interactions between the young man in the blond ponytail and the older-looking fellow, her instincts told her that they were part of a much larger group – and likely one with some semblance of order and decency beyond the petty crimes.
It's not ideal, but it will have to do. She thought with compromise as she scrambled to uncover the basket. When she attempted to remove the prince, however, she discovered that something now kept him attached with reasonable strength. Inexplicably, the two infants had clung to one another by their hands somewhere along the way, as if fully aware of the troubling circumstances and their imminent separation. For the next minute, it took all of Kalura's strength to pry those tiny, connected fingers apart without awaking either party, and the task had become so arduous that she almost conceded.
When she finally completed the undertaking and laid the prince upon the ground, she noticed the foreheads of both babies scrunching with dismay, simultaneously entering that initial stage before impending bawls. In any usual circumstance she would've felt panic, but at this moment she only sought to fulfill one final endeavor – one she had considered from the moment she departed the cabin and reinforced by the little ones' own behavior.
From her apron pocket Kalura quickly withdrew a small blade, and with the lightest of forces she scratched at the tender area below the infants' eyes – his left, her right – drawing bits of blood and leaving what would be permanent marks, forever connecting them beyond just linked fingers. The stinging sensation broke the last barrier in any leftover resistance, and by the time she finished, their location echoed with a duet of dissonant cries.
"I'm sorry, your highness…please know that I only did all this…for Eren…" She whispered the confession as metal dug into her own forearm, assigning herself a small remembrance of the day's shameful acts. "May…may the Gods have mercy on my soul…"
With that, Kalura placed a gentle kiss upon the forehead of the one she would leave behind, and in only a few seconds she gathered everything again, departing with the false successor of the kingdom while leaving the true heir to be located by his new guardians.
Goodbye, prince.
Greetings, princess.
The shrill sound caught the two bandits' attention instantly, and they stopped all their antics to search for the noise's origin.
"Do ya hear that, Erd?"
"Yes…it almost sounds like a…newborn?" Smoothing back his wet hair, the blond began to swim to the shore. "I thought I heard two crying together at first, but now there is only one."
Auruo nodded in agreement as he followed close behind. "Pretty sure it's coming from the west."
Exiting the water, the two men pushed through the plantlife that impeded them, pursuing the correct path towards discovery. Not long after, they came across the naked, small culprit next to a bed of forest lilies, resting upon a couple of luxurious-looking blankets and oscillating his limbs in conjunction with each choked sob.
"Hoho—listen to him cry." Auruo knelt down next to the infant, feeling somewhat impressed. "Kid's got a strong pair of lungs on him."
For whatever reason, he also decided to prod at one tiny palm with an index finger. Almost immediately, the same hand resisted the annoyance, grabbing the offending digit with no intention of letting go. Erd could only snicker at his friend's surprised reaction, especially as the cries seemed to soften the more Auruo struggled.
"And he's got a mighty strong grip at that." The irritated man grumbled as he finally wrenched his finger away, feeling as if it had actually been bruised under the immense pressure. "What do ya think? Should we bring him back…or just leave him out here for the wolves to chomp on?"
"Well we can't just leave him." Erd voiced with logic, his hands already moving to enfold the baby back into the soothing material he rested upon. "Let's at least bring him back to the elder so his fortune can be read."
A while later, Erd and Auruo enjoyed newfound popularity as they reentered their compound near the edge of the city wall, adorable baby in tow. Men and women, young and old, flocked to their side, bequeathing endless adulations to their latest member and gratitude to the two young men, who walked proudly through the main path towards the largest tent of all.
When they presented the newborn to the wise elder within the structured canopy, however, the mustached man did not appear the least captivated. Instead, he ordered them to place the tiny form in the carpeted center – right ahead of where he himself always sat cross-legged. Then, after some swigs of wine from his usual bowl, Dot Pixis closed his eyes in concentration, knuckles resting upon his kneecaps.
Seconds passed, then minutes, then an elongated period that truly tested Auruo's patience.
"Well? What do ya see, gramps?" Though he would usually never cause disturbance during such sessions, he simply couldn't hold back this time.
Amber eyes suddenly opened wide, deepening the wrinkles that already outlined their boundaries.
"This child must remain with us, and be fostered by us." After taking another drink, the ensuing command adopted as much firmness as Erd had ever heard expressed from Pixis' mouth.
"Oh?" The two younger men responded in sync, and all four hands clenched with intrigue at the unexpected directive.
"I foresee a pivotal path carved out for him in the years ahead." The bald elder hovered a finger above the infant's left cheek, tracing the visible short trail of blood without any actual contact.
"Whatever ya say, gramps." Auruo nodded with excitement. "So what shall we call the kid?"
The response came without a tinge of reluctance.
"Levi. For he has joined us by the hands of forces unknown."
[End of Prologue]
A/N: Ok, this wasn't supposed to be that long /falls over/ But I hope you enjoyed it so far nonetheless! I'm especially excited to explore some characters I don't usually write about, even though there's some playing around with everyone's ages, harhar.
Preview for Chapter 1:
Lord Woerman: The princess should bend to our will easily
Mikasa: LOL NO
Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts :)