A/N: So this started out because I watched the movie Anastasia and I was watching it and I was just like, woahhhh, there's some real similarities here, this could make a great fic! So then I had to start writing, naturally. This multichapter will probably be on the shorter side (chapters-wise), but we'll see. Hopefully it'll be finished before I go back to school though. Also, yeah, I changed Neal's name. I hated that they named him that. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
Emmeline sat at her little powder table, eyeing her reflection in the mirror and dabbing a little bit of rouge onto her lips. She wasn't usually allowed to wear things like rouge, as she was only eight, but since it was a special occasion, she was permitted to dress up a little extra. Her mother had gone all out for the ball, for it was to be the last of the season, before true winter set in, and would serve as the farewell to the Queen Mother, who would depart in the morning for warmer regions.
"Excuse me, Miss?" a small boy's head appeared around the doorway, and Emmeline recognized him vaguely. He was the son of one of the cooks, or something like that; he often did small chores to help out the kitchen staff.
"Yes?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at the intrusion.
"I brought you a cup of hot cocoa," the boy answered, taking a step into her splendidly decorated room to show her the china mug in his hands, filled to the brim with dark, creamy liquid.
"Thank you," Emmeline said, and she motioned for him to put it down on the vanity.
Quickly, but careful not to spill so much as a drop, the boy moved forward, delicately placing the cup on the polished wood.
"Anything else I can get you, Miss?" he asked with a slight bow.
"No, thank you," she replied, shaking her head so that the blonde curls bounced.
He backed out of the room and Emmeline picked up the cup, sipping on the delicious hot chocolate and letting it warm her body. It was one of her favorite things, and he had even sprinkled cinnamon on top, just the way she liked it. Carefully, Emmeline selected a light blue ribbon from her collection, tying a box expertly in her blonde tresses.
Emmeline crossed the room to where her gown was laid out on her bed, a pretty thing of blue silk and white organza. She pulled it on over her slip and reached around the back, trying to do up the laces, but she couldn't quite manage. She struggled, frowning, trying as hard as she could to stretch her arms far enough to pull at the laces, but it was to no avail.
There was a soft knock on the door, and the Queen stepped into the room into the room, smiling softly at her daughter's struggle.
"Come, sweetheart," she said, and crossed the room to assist the princess.
With deft fingers, she pulled the laces tight and tied them in a secure bow, before spinning her daughter around to take her in.
"You look beautiful, my dear," the Queen smiled.
"Thank you, Mama," Emmeline replied, grinning as her mother fingered her curls. "Not as beautiful as you, though."
"You're very kind," the Queen said, her own black curls bound in a delicate knot at the base of her neck, a crown glittering on her head. She wore a deep purple gown made from velvet, with gold embroidery throughout, and it looked positively stunning on her. "Come now, it's time to make our entrance."
Emmeline took her mother's hand and the two walked together through the palace, their footsteps echoing on the marble. They reached the set of double doors that led to the Grand Ballroom, and found the King, the little Prince, and the Queen Mother waiting on them.
"Children first," the herald instructed, and Emmeline stepped forward, taking her younger brother's hand.
The large, gilded oak doors swung open, and Emmeline saw sparkle of the room beyond, making her heart leap with excitement. There were more people than she had seen since the celebration of her brother's birth, all of them wearing their best dresses and suits and jewels. It was magical.
"Princess Emmeline and Prince James!" the herald announced, and there was an outburst of applause as all eyes turned to the grand staircase.
Emmeline tightened her grip on her brother's hand and stepped forward, into the dazzling light emanating from the many chandeliers. The applause grew louder, and Emmeline smiled broadly, reveling in the attention of all the courtiers. She loved being a princess. As she started descending the stairs, careful to help her brother, on his unsteady toddler legs, she heard her grandmother announced behind her. The Queen Mother joined her granddaughter on the staircase and scooped up the little Prince into her arms, replacing his hand in his sister's with her own. Together, the three of them made their way to the ballroom floor. When they reached the polished parquet, the doors at the top of the staircase opened once more, and the Kind and Queen made their entrance. The hall positively exploded with applause, so beloved were they, and Emmeline beamed at her parents as they floated elegantly toward their guests.
"My wife and I are so pleased you could all join us," the King said, projecting his voice as much as possible. "We hope you enjoy this night –"
"I think not, dearie," a voice cackled above them, and Emmeline turned to see a scaly, sneering man standing at the top of the staircase. "Tonight your rule, your dynasty, your line, shall at last, come to an end. Time to pay your price, dearie."
The man stepped down the stairs dramatically, the clicking of his boots on the marble loud in the silent room. People gasped in fear and backed away, and Emmeline clutched the skirt of her mother's gown, though she tried to put on a brave face. She must always be an example to her people, her mother had taught her that.
"Now, how would you like to die?" the man cackled, leering at the King.
"In old age," the King hissed back, drawing his sword from its scabbard and sweeping his family behind him.
"Dear, dear, I don't think that's very likely," the imp chuckled, snapping his fingers so that a sword appeared in his own hand. "We must set the mood." With another snap of his fingers, the sky outside the large windows darkened to an ominous gray, and thunder cracked every few seconds, the wind howling and growing in ferocity.
The King lunged, his sword jabbing forward in the direction of the magician, but he was easily parried. He lunged again, to no avail. The imp seemed to be toying with King David, fighting with uncommon ease. As their fighting grew more intense, so did the storm that raged outside, shattering windows to the screams of nearby guests. As Emmeline watched the fight unfurl, she did not know which frightened her most – the struggle of her father to gain an upper hand, or the storm that threatened to blow them all away – but she felt her heart beating fast in her throat. The fight between the two men intensified, turning against the King, and Emmeline was tempted to hide her face, but she kept watching. The imp reigned blow after blow down upon the King, who was barely able to parry them, until finally he broke through the King's defenses, slashing right across his chest. Emmeline screamed as her father fell to his knees, knuckles whitening on the hilt of his sword as he free hand tried to stop the blood from pouring forth.
As the King fell to the ground, chest heaving for air and a fresh tide of blood surging forth with each breath, the storm violently ripped the roof off the hall, and screams echoed through the room, people running in every direction. The Queen fell to her knees next to her husband, calling out his name and trying to keep his eyes from closing for good.
"Emmeline, run!" she shouted, looking up to see the imp advancing toward their family with a predatory look in his eyes.
The Princess did not need to be told twice. She turned and ran as fast as she could, into the crowd of people that were trying to flee to safety. She did not know where to go, where she would be safe from this man, so she simply kept running, trying to hide herself among the mass of bodies.
"Miss!" a voice hissed in her ear, and she turned her face to see the boy who had brought her the cocoa earlier. "Follow me!"
He took her hand and pulled her to the side, pushing away a tapestry and dragging her through the hallway that was hidden behind it. It was dark in the passageway, despite the torches lit high in the wall. It was a servants' passage, she knew, she had played in enough of them to recognize one. The boy stopped suddenly, running his hands over the wall panels.
"Here," he said, and he pushed on the corner of one panel. It sprung open, revealing another hidden passage, this one dark and dank. "Go, through there, quickly. It leads to the outside. And take this."
He held out his hands, a plain green overcoat in them, and Emmeline took in from him. She took him in, for the first time, her eyes raking over his messy dark hair, the color in his cheeks, his bright blue eyes.
"Thank you," she said, earnestly, before turning and running into the little passage.
The passage smelled terribly, and the cobbled stones were making her feet ache through the thin slippers she wore. She tripped and fell, getting dirt and grime all over her pretty dress, and making her hands sting. Emmeline felt like crying, like curling up right there in the passageway and sobbing until death came for her, like it surely had for her whole family by then, but she pressed on, taking deep, shuddering breaths to steady herself. Finally, she reached the end of the passage, and she pushed hard against the wall, so that it opened onto the fresh air outside the palace, far from the Grand Ballroom. She could see flames flickering inside it now.
Emmeline stepped out into the snow, and began walking briskly toward one of the side gates few knew of. Once she was outside the palace grounds, the city was quickly upon her, and she ran through the cobbled streets, trying to think of where to go, where she might be safe. Emmeline was so lost in thought, trying to find a safe haven, that she paid little attention to her steps, and her foot caught on a raised stone, sending her sprawling across the street. Her head hit a step into one of the houses, and pain seared through her skull. She tried to blink it away, but she could not, and then… darkness.