Author's Note: So I have finally mustered up the courage to actually type up one of the stories I have written and post it on Fanficton. I want to thank my sister (Glorytommy) for helping me edit and threatening me, I mean encouraging me, to put up this story. I hope you guys like it~
Oh! And I DO NOT own Person of Interest.
Chapter One
It was a rather warm day in the kingdom of New York. The smell of fresh produce and the sound lively banter danced within the hustle and bustle of one of the largest markets in all the land. While venders tried to persuade walking patrons to buy their merchandise, the patrons themselves made it their mission to haggle the best deal they could, and all the while the laughter of children rang in the mix as they weaved through the throng of people. Everything busy, everything filled with life.
The kingdom was doing quite well, much better than it had seventeen years ago during the war. Those tragic moments had set a state of panic within the people. Families were worried, wondering if they'd ever see their loved ones again. Many lost their lives and those they left behind were broken. Now, those wounds were healing, and though there would be scars, people were starting a new.
Princess Jocelyn loved to watch the view she had of the kingdom from the balcony of her bedroom. There, she could see everything, and anything she couldn't see she could imagine. Sometimes she wished to witness it firsthand. Whether it be the smell of freshly baked bread when the bakery first opens for the day, or the sound of steel against steel as the blacksmith works on his latest project. However she wasn't able to do that. She knew that wouldn't be something she could do. As a princess the castle was both her protection and her prison. There were many times when she felt trapped behind its walls, like she needed to get away.
The loud chime of a carefully crafted grandfather clock brought Jocelyn from her musings and she turned toward it to check the time. One o'clock was what it read, and she instantly noticed it as the time she was to visit the orphanage. It was something she did every day, unless other duties got in the way, and, though it was something her mother had originally asked her to do, it was one of the highlights of her day.
She usually wasn't expected there until two, but knowing it was best to leave the castle early because of how far the trip took, she turned from her balcony and headed inside her room to stare into a full length mirror. An ebony skinned woman stared back at her, downed in a powder blue coat that flared out at the bottom, its front was short and came down to her mid-thigh while the back reached longer, touching behind knees. To top the outfit off, tight fitting pants and knee high black boots hugged her legs.
Turning around, she faced her lady-in-waiting, who sat quietly at a table working on one of her latest crafts. "How do I look, Grace?" she questioned.
The red head smiled, "You're an absolute vision your highness."
Jocelyn chuckled "You're too kind, and much too formal. I told you not to call me that. We've known each other ever since we were children, you're practically my sister."
Grace sighed, failing to suppress a smile as she rose from her seat and lead the princess to her vanity, "I am well aware of how long I've know you; it is just a force of habit," she assured. "Now sit down and stay still."
With nimble fingers the servant released the braid that held Jocelyn's hair and let it fall in waves around the woman's shoulders. Running a brush carefully through it, she gathered the hair into a high ponytail. When she was finished, the princess smiled in approval.
"Thank you, Grace," Jocelyn said sincerely as she glanced at the grandfather clock for a second time. "I better get going or my mother will scold me for being tardy and I wouldn't ever hear the end of it."
With one last look at her mirror, the princess hurried out of her room at a pace that neared too close to an unladylike run. Halfway down the hall she heard Grace calling out to her: "Make sure you are home before tonight's celebration! You're parent's won't be too happy if you are late!"
"Don't worry, I will!" Jocelyn called back over her shoulder.
Descending the inner steps of her family's castle, she soon made it to the large double doors where her two most trusted knights were waiting for her. Putting on her most professional face, she slowed her pace and gave them both a curt nod, "Good afternoon, Sir Fusco, Sir Szymanski."
"Good afternoon," they both said in unison, the taller one with dark brown hair bowed in respect, while the shorter much more stout knight stood grumpily in place. Even though they were clad in matching uniforms the two couldn't be more different.
Szymanski opened the large door for her and she thanked him kindly before heading down another flight of stairs that lead out to the courtyard, her knights trailing behind. There waited their horses, already prepared for their departure.
Jocelyn was helped onto a white mare named Scarlet, a gift from her mother when she was much younger. As unconventional as it was for a princess to ride to town on horse and not in carriage, she had managed to somehow convince her parents to allow it. It wasn't like she was a conventional princess to begin with.
Once they were all mounted and ready, she and her knightly escorts trotted their way out of the courtyard, moving at a steady pace toward their destination.
xXx
Bright sunlight barely reached the forest floor through the thick canopy of trees, but even so the black cloak of a hooded figure was all too visible for his liking. That was the thing about dark colors. They only blended in at night.
Musing on this fact, the man looked down at the silver hand mirror in his grasp. Its glass began to glow and ripple, an image taking form. The face of a neutral looking man soon stared back at the mirror's handler, a pair of dark spectacles resting on his nose.
"What is it this time, Finch?" the man in the black cloak asked, all business.
"It seems like our latest mark has been identified," the man identified as Finch stated, his flat tone showing the slightest hint of interest in the subject, "she appears to be none other than her highness, the princess."
The mirror's handler arched a brow, "…the princess?" he repeated, "This should be interesting."
"Indeed, but I advise you to be careful, you haven't made very nice with the guards of the royal palace… I wouldn't be surprised if a few of them had it out for you personally," he warned. "And Mr. Reese, do keep a close eye on her."
With that Finch's face disappeared, leaving Reese to stare at his own reflection.
Mounting a black stallion, he kept his attention on his mirror. "Show me the princess," he commanded and the glass complied, rippling to the image of a dark-skinned royal having a conversation with two knights as they rode by horseback.
Scanning the princess' surroundings, Reese immediately recognized her route of travel and tucking the mirror away into the pouch at his belt, he adjusted the hood on his head. With a click of the tongue to direct his stead, he rode through the forest, toward his new mark.
xXx
"Tinkerbell, what's this Grace tells me about a gift for the queen?" Fusco questioned, striking up a conversation to pass the time.
Jocelyn's mouth twitched slightly at the nickname. It was one he'd given her as a little girl when she used to pretend she was a fairy, and though it was a fond memory she was much older now and as a princess it was very embarrassing to be called such a thing. There wasn't much she could do about it, however, as Fusco gave nicknames to all his favorite people—which weren't many.
"Yes, rather than have something picked up, she helped me make something. Grace is very talented you know," she stated matter-of-factly. Jocelyn had wanted to know what to get her mother for the longest time, but it was hard to decide something like that when as queen the woman could basically have anything she wanted. What are you supposed to get a woman like that? It had been Grace's idea to hand make something, saying that the best gifts are the ones made from the heart.
"Well, I'm sure she will like whatever you give her," Szymanski said with a smile.
"Are you sure you don't want to get something from the market? I'm sure it'll look more professional," Fusco teased.
"I assure you it'll look much better than anything you could find there," Jocelyn said confidently. A silence then passed them for a moment until Jocelyn spoke once again: "Sir Fusco, whenever you have the time I would like to challenge you to a game of archery," She challenged with a slight smirk.
The stout knight chuckled, amused at this, "So the student finally thinks she can beat the teacher?"
"She is a sharp shot, Fusco. She might win this time. " Szymanski inquired.
"Of course she is, she learned from the best," the other knight snorted, "but just because she's good, doesn't mean she's good enough."
This comment set of a deep discussion between the two knights, and during the rest of the trip their banter went back and forth. Jocelyn could only shake her head at their nonsense.
Eventually, they were able to make it to the orphanage in record time and were greeted almost instantly by the nuns who took care of the children. Usual to the routine, Jocelyn was guided inside where she was swarmed by the twenty boys and girls who lived there.
The first part of her visit consisted in answering the varied questions of the children, which ranged from how her day was so far to what the party at the palace would be like that night. The princess was content in answering all their questions.
For the second portion, she seated herself in an old wooden chair and read them the tale of The Little Glass Slipper. It was one of her favorites as a child.
As she finished the story, a little girl with blonde hair who went by the name of Emily raised her hand.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Jocelyn called on her, offering a gentle smile.
"Do you have a prince charming?"
The princess' expression faltered at this, "I… use to."
The young one grew concerned at this, "What happened? Did the evil people take him away?"
"Something like that."
Emily smiled warmly at Jocelyn, "Don't worry princess, you'll find him someday."
The woman reframed from voicing how it was impossible and instead exhaled. "Maybe," she stated lowly, almost a whisper.
A few more questions were asked by the children before it was time for her to leave. She exited the orphanage with promises of coming to see them again the next day.
xXx
Reese stood in the shadows; a safe distance away as he watched men and woman dressed in their best clothing enter the castle, a line of carriages filing in like an assembly line. Having seen the castle many times before the grandeur of it all didn't interest him. It still stood as tall as the last time he'd seen it up close, towering over the kingdom as a sign of wealth and power.
It wasn't very impressive.
Turning away from the scene, the man brought his attention down to his silver hand mirror where a busy Finch could be seen mixing together several ingredients into a wooden bowl, when he crushed into a fine powder.
"Is that stuff ready yet?"
"This is not simply just 'stuff'—as you so blatantly call it, Mr. Reese. It's a delicate process, that if done wrong, could end up making you look more like a toad than like a noble," Finch explained, perhaps with slight amusement at the idea. "In any case," he continued, picking up the bowl and cupping it in both hands, "take care to remember that this is only temporary. Whatever you are planning to do, it must be done before the clock strikes twelve."
With that warning, the man in the mirror blew into the bowl, the dust-like substance passing through the glass and straight into Reese's face. Purple clouded the man's vision and the dust moved in an unnatural cloud, turning almost smoke-like as it covered him from head to toe.
As the smoke cleared, he was now dressed to look like that of a noble man.
"Twelve o'clock, Mr. Reese," the voice from the mirror reminded him.
"I got it, Finch," he stated, placing the mirror back in his pouch before walking casually toward the castle, pretending to have gotten out of a carriage with a bunch of young, lively nobles, who barely registered his presence.
xXx
Jocelyn held her breath as the strings of her bodice were pulled just a little too tight. "There all done," Grace announced, stepping back to look at the princess, something close to a proud mother's smile crossing her features.
Glancing into her full length mirror, Jocelyn took a look at the servant's handiwork. Grace had picked out a blood red dress with black embroidery trailing along the top of the bodice and her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, a tiara graced her head and a red and black necklace pulled the ensemble together.
"Are you ready for tonight, Joss?"
The princess sighed, "No, not really."
Grace seemed to know what was wrong and took a hold of Jocelyn's hand, sitting her down on the bench at the foot of the bed. "I know how you feel about Sir Gracious," the servant started, rubbing the woman's hand comfortingly, "but, in all honesty, he hasn't done anything wrong. Just give him a chance."
"More like Sir Ungracious, if you ask me," she scoffed, "and he is not a Sir yet. Not until he is knighted," the princess expressed and, leaving Grace's grasp, she stood and paced the room. "He may seem kind and courteous, but it's all an act." She grimaced. "I don't care if he's the son of a nobleman, I will not fall for it!"
Jocelyn wouldn't be swayed by her servant's words. Grace didn't know what she knew about Sir Gracious. She'd seen what he was really like and there was just so much more about him that just didn't seem right. He didn't deserve to be knighted. He didn't deserve anything.
"Alright, I won't convince you otherwise," Grace exhaled, "just remember to be civil—for your parent's sake," the servant reminded her and stood up to pat the princess on the cheek. "Now go, if you stay any longer ranting you'll be late."
xXx
It took Gracious seven years to get to this point where he would finally make a formal entry into knighthood. Ten hours earlier he had spent his time in the castles chapel altar kneeling in silent prayer. When that was over the royal family and other guests joined him at the altar were King Damien took possession of the sword and shield which had been blessed by the priest.
Gracious knelt before his king and swore an oath of allegiance and to follow the strict code of chivalry. The king presented the sword and shield and 'Dubbed' the squire who was finally pronounced a Knight.
After the ceremony, Jocelyn was escorted down to the Great Hall, where the feat would take place. The room itself lived up to its name. Tapestries, shields, and banners displaying coats of arms decorated the walls and a massive glass chandelier hung, catching every light in the room.
At the end of the hall was the Dais, a raised platform for the high table where the king, his family, and the highest ranking nobles sat. The other two tables were on the floor in view of the high table, everyone else sat there.
The King and Queen sat in the center of the high table, where they had perfect view of the whole room. To the king's left sat Sir Gracious, who the royal was very fond of.
Next to Sir Gracious was seated Jocelyn sat and she found herself sour over the arrangement, having much rather preferred to be at her mother's side. The night would have certainly been more enjoyable if she hadn't been made to sit next to the very man she despised at the moment. It didn't help that her other neighbor at the table was a nobleman she had never met before, but she was a bit glad he wasn't much of a talker. She had already labeled most of his kind as rather rude and Sir Gracious didn't really help her opinion of them.
"Good evening Princess, are you enjoying yourself?" came a voice from her right and she was displeased to realize it was the one man she'd rather not hold a conversation with.
"I have to admit, not as much as I would like," she told him, refraining from turning to look at him as she used a fork to move peas around on her plate. He may have had a smile plastered on his face, but his eye told a different story and she always felt uneasy looking into them.
"What a shame," he said in a way that hinted to mock disappointment, "Were you not pleased with my knighting?"
Biting her tongue, Jocelyn glanced over at her father and was happy to see he was engaged in a conversation with her mother to hear their conversation. Allowing herself to genuinely frown, she willed herself to look the newly knighted man in the eye, "To be honest, Sir Gracious," she started in a harsh whisper, "we both know what I feel about your knighting."
The man merely chuckled and leaning in he placed his lips to her ear, "Be careful of what you say, my dear. It's not like you can prove anything, it would be best to give up. Things could get dangerous for you otherwise."
Jocelyn leaned away and glared, "Don't underestimate me. I will expose you for what you are. A fraud and a liar."
There was only one person at the table who had heard all of the conversation between the man of the hour and the princess. Reese, who had sat next to the princess the entire time, noticed the threat in the knight's voice and when Sir Gracious excused him for a moment to head off somewhere, the disguised man didn't hesitate to follow.
The knight walked with purpose to an emptied corridor where he stopped. Reese hid behind a pillar and watched as the man checked his surroundings, making sure he wasn't followed.
When he thought he was alone, Sir Gracious motioned to someone around the corner and two brown cloaked men came forward. The knight crossed his arms. "It looks like I'll need your services after all," he commented with a bit of distaste and waved his hand carelessly, "Kill her. I don't want her getting in the way of my future plans."
"No problem… but there is the question of payment," one of the slurred, a sadistic smile crossing his features.
Sir Gracious' eyes narrowed, "You'll be paid when the job is done. Screw up and you get nothing."
The two men nodded in understanding and left.
The knight watched them go and let out a tired sigh, "You should have just heeded my warnings… princess," he muttered and, fixing his attire, headed back to his party.
Reese frowned, watching as the knight trotted out of sight. When he was sure Gracious was gone, he pulled out his mirror to contact Finch. "Apparently, Gracious hired two mercenaries to take out the princess."
"That doesn't seem like a very bright idea. Why try to assassinate the princess with so many people around?"
"These men are trained to kill in any situation. It's what they do for a living," he explained, "My guess is that Gracious wants an audience. Besides, this way he can make sure the job is done right."
Finch shifted uncomfortably, "Well, you must hurry, Mr. Reese. You don't have much time left."
Putting the mirror back into its pouch, he re-entered the great hall. With trained eyes he scanned the crowd. The tables had been pulled apart and the guests where now engaged in dancing with one another and the constantly moving crowd made it a bit difficult to make anyone out.
It took a moment, but he spotted the princess leaning out of an opened window.
With his mark in sight, he took inventory of all the guards in the room. Surely the mercenaries wouldn't be stupid enough to attack her with so many around.
Unless…
He brought his attention to the roof and found the hit men standing atop of the wooden beams, hiding in the shadows as they aimed their bows directly toward the princess.
With stealth-like grace, Reese maneuvered his way through the crowd of dancers toward the princess. Sliding his hand into her own, he guided her out of the line of fire as the first arrow whizzed past her head and through the open window, going unnoticed by everyone in the room.
"Dance with me," he ordered, slipping his other hand respectfully around her waist and leading her toward the dance floor. It wasn't the time to play the gentleman and properly ask for her hand.
"How dare you?" the princess questioned, struggling against his hold on her, "You can't just grab me as you please. I demand you to unhand me."
Reese ignored her and continued to lead her through the crowd in a smooth dance, determined to keep her as a moving target. The mercenaries couldn't shoot her if she kept moving.
"Listen princess," he spoke finally, eyes still trained on her attackers, "you're in danger. I need you to stay calm and do as I say."
Jocelyn's outrage faltered at this, "In danger…? In danger of what, exactly?"
"I'm sure you're familiar with Sir Gracious," Reese explained, pausing to spin her, "it seems that he wants you dead and he's hired people to make sure that happens."
The princess didn't look surprised at who was behind it, and closing her eyes she exhaled, "Of course he would…" When she opened them again, it was to give him a skeptical glance, "How do you know all this? And what do you plan to do about it?"
"What I plan to do," he told her, ignoring the first question, "is get you out of danger, Princess."
With that he led her out of the Great Hall, and discreetly outside of the castle. There they were greeted by the two mercenaries, with swords drawn. They seemed to know he was on to them.
Before anyone had the chance to move, Reese let go of Jocelyn's hand and kicked one of the men right in the chest, stealing his sword in the process.
His partner charged at the disguised noble man and thrust his sword in his direction. Reese dodged it with ease, knocking the man off balance. He took the opportunity to send his borrowed sword straight into the side. Not even flinching as the mercenary stumbled and collapsed in his own blood.
Reese turned to take on the other attacker, but found the man unconscious on the ground, a disgruntled princess holding pieces to a shattered vase.
He quirked a brow at her.
She shrugged.
Opening his mouth to speak, Reese was interrupted by the sound of bells. His attention was soon pulled to the clock tower, the time reading midnight. "I have to go," he told her and began running down the castle steps.
"Wait!" Jocelyn ran after him, reaching for his hand but caught only his glove, it slipped off as he continued to run. "I don't even know your name!" she called after him, sighing deeply when he disappeared into the night.
"Princess!" the voice of Szymanski rang as he rushed out of the castle's entrance, "Princess are you alright, you disappeared and—" the knight paused midsentence as his eyes landed on the two men lying on the ground, one bloody and the other unconscious. "What… What happened?"
"It's kind of a long story," She said still looking out into the distance.
Who was that man?