This is my first story that I have put on Fanfiction, I finally got up the courage :). I am doing short chapters as that is how I see fairy tales. Please tell me what you think.
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Nuala
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The witch, Dielda, stalked the murky swamps of her home, scheming. The dreary light did nothing for her wrinkled, dry skin. Her hair hung in matted clumps down her back and her frame was bent with age and bitterness.
Her hands and knees still hurt after all these years. Her pride prickled, sharp thorns buried in her heart. The king, now dead, had thrown her from his castle. He had laughed at her, sneered in his supreme way and simply waved a hand to be rid of her. Back then she had been looked up to, heard. Now, all she had was her ramshackle home in the swamps she shared with the various creatures willing to swap sunlight for safety.
Dielda scowled as she made her way through the marsh, ducking painfully under low hanging branches and vines. The king was making an announcement today, there was no telling what it was to be about but one could only hope. The witch smiled, wondering if the king renouncing his throne would be too much to ask for. Doubtless.
The castle loomed over the knoll as she exited her home, standing tall and proud in the morning light like it was mocking her. Dielda squinted harshly and held up her hand to shield them from the burning sun. Yet nothing could stop her from attending this announcement, nothing. The marketplace was bustling, a chaotic mess of noise and babble. Dielda hunched, drawing her hood over her face. It would not do for anyone to recognize her, especially here.
The broad, flat walls of the castle surrounded the town's square closely. People had begun to form a crowd around the grey stone steps leading up to the palace. The King would most likely enter there; he would also have at least ten guards with him. Unfriendly fellows; Dielda knew first hand, of course.
There was a sudden hush through the square; Dielda craned her neck to see over the people in front of her. Dead silence. The king was here.
"My people." His voice boomed out over the crowd, Dielda grimaced at the familiarity of that voice, so like his great grandfather's. "I have a wonderful announcement to bring to you today," he smiled broadly, his weathered face creasing at the corners of his eyes and nose. The king motioned behind him.
"My son is of age and now that my reign is ending, he must marry."
The prince came to stand beside his father, a bland expression dressing his features. He was a picture of youth next to the ageing king; back straight, face unlined and clean. His hair was a deep brown-black and curled over his collar slightly. Blue-grey eyes studied the crowd emotionlessly, appearing to take in everything and give nothing in return.
Dielda knew what had driven the young prince to such feelings. His mother had passed summers ago due to the spread of the Lune sickness. She had gone on, leaving him and his father to raise the young princess themselves. Of course, Dielda thought snidely, there had been countless nurses and toys to keep the little thing occupied.
The crowd had begun to shift at this news, the elderly murmuring amongst themselves while the young eligible women preened and giggled. Foolishness, the witch thought disdainfully, to think that a pureblood prince such as that would choose a lower city maiden to be his wife.
"On the seventh day, at the seventh hour, my son will marry. If he does not, there will be years of an ungoverned throne." Gasps rang out. What the king was suggesting was almost a death sentence to the people that lived in the kingdom. All if the prince didn't marry in a week. Dielda wasn't surprised though; this--this crassness with the lives of their people seemed to run in the family.
The king raised his arms in a peaceable gesture, hands out. "Calm, calm. Do not fear; the prince will find a wife in the allotted time, be sure." He gave the crowd a single quick bow and strode back inside, leaving the prince on the platform by himself. Dielda watched curiously as the prince studied the people in the square, most of whom had begun to depart, talking amongst themselves. He met her eyes, startling her and nodded ever so slightly then walked unhurriedly back indoors after his father.
The witch stood stock still, frozen in shock. That simple gesture spoke volumes of that boy; he would make a good leader, a fair leader. Someone jostled her, snapping her thoughts from her head. She cursed at them, spitting on the ground. A man gave her a disgusted look and pushed past, a guard was staring at her, frowning slightly. Dielda ducked and made her crooked way out the gates, praying she wouldn't be stopped.
A hand grasped her upper arm. The old witch struggled and fought to get free but she was held strong. A guard held her immobile, scowling at her.
"And I thought we'd seen tha last of you." He grunted, hauling her towards the large gate at a faster pace. "Can't let you cause trouble now, can we, kings orders." The bulky man shoved her outside the palace walls roughly. She caught herself on her hands and knees, cursing at the pain of hitting the ground with such force.
"Festering pustelite! Crawb stinking, gutter-fish!" she swore at him, wishing nightmares upon his soul. The king would pay for this embarrassment, she vowed. He would pay dearly.
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Thanks to;
Tiger Lily21- thankyou so much :3
And Whatever95, :) I checked to be sure and its ageing but they pretty much mean the same thing anyways. Who doesn't love a prince? ;) thanks for the review!