Disclaimer: If I owned Riviera, you bet there'd be a Ledah ending. Oh, and he wouldn't be such an item snob--take your damn medicine, Ledah! Erm. Anyway. As it is, please don't sue. ..;; I'm definitely not making money for this.
Alternate Universe, ftw? Erm... this is based partly on a dream that WoofBlackHayate had a while back. Yes. So, it's finally been written, and it's totally different from what happened--although she didn't remember all of it anyway--in the dream. She's letting me use the plot, though, so that's something. Thanks, Hayate!
Totally unbeta'ed, let me tell you this now. If it sucks, blame it ALL on me. :D That being said. In case the pairing wasn't obvious, Ledah and Ein. Both men. Mmhmm, yes, you know what this means. You don't like that? Then by all means, hit the back button and backpedal the heck out of here. I'm not going to force you to read this stuff, so you really shouldn't have to complain about it. Um... kisses. And Rose says "ass" once, but that's not going to kill anyone, now will it?
Enjoy.
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a young prince named Ecthel de l'Asgard. He was direct heir to a throne that didn't really exist, for the position of "king" could only be held by Odin—a god who, with the rest of his pantheon, had been missing in action for a thousand years. As it was, young Prince Ein (as he was called, since "Ecthel" was just long enough to be awkward to shout) was always getting into trouble, his many mishaps oftentimes disasters that were just barely averted. Who kept an eye on him, to make sure that he didn't get killed? Why, his two most faithful retainers—a knight named Ledah Rozwelli and the castle historian (Ein's tutor and advisor) Rose R. Crawford. The High Council of Magi oftentimes only shook their heads as they saw what mischief the young prince was up to each day, and this made Rose cranky as they did occasionally admonish her for her charge's wild behavior. So each day that the prince was too out of control, she dragged him into his room and locked him in there, cat ears bristling and tail lashing, to languish in boredom until she saw fit to let him out or Ledah rescued him through a window.
The strange thing was that the prince had no wings, born to a race of angels though he was. He remembered the incident very little due to the trauma his body was put through, but sometime in his childhood he had lost his wings in exchange for a bright, eternal blade infused with holy energy. This he called Einherjar, and kept by his side whenever he went out—for the grounds beyond the walls of the holy city he dwelt in were infested with demons.
Those grounds, called "Heaven's Gate," provided not only an unlimited number of demons to whet his sword's blade on, but a pathway to a promised land called Riviera. He had heard much about the place, but had retained little of the information and remembered only that the place was split into several provinces—Lacrima, Elendia, Nelde, Tetyth, Mireno, and Yggdrasil. He had also heard of a shadowed place known to few called the Maze of Shadows, somehow a very favorite place for the magus named Hector… though he was also the one who had been executed for treason the past year. Ledah had told him about the incident with a stony expression, eyes carefully expressionless—as if to conceal that he was glad Hector was dead. He would not tell Ein why.
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Sir Ledah was a bit of a conundrum in himself. He had become a knight young; having trained constantly and interacted little with others he was taciturn and most often presented the world with a cold, neutral expression. His weapon of choice was a spear called Lorelei, a weapon forged of orihalcon and bespelled so as to never break. Its haft and head shone a crimson to match the carmine of the knight's eyes; when Ledah fought with it the magical properties of the weapon caused blazing flames to erupt wherever Lorelei's edge struck. Ein had seen this frequently as he sometimes could not assess when a battle was far too much for him to fight alone, and those times he would have to be rescued by Ledah—the knight would annihilate whatever had threatened his young liege with a Rose Kreuz, and there was naught that the demons could do about it. Rarely did more than one demon at a time survive the attack, and it was usually weak enough that one hit from Ein could finish it.
"I have told you not to stray too far from the city walls, Ein," he reprimanded quietly. There was no title, since Ein had decided that he'd rather not have one of his only friends call him 'your Highness' and made this request clear.
"Sorry, Ledah… I saw this flash from the sky and went to see it, and, and… look what I caught!" Ein held up a tiny angel bell, its faint tinkle sweet and vaguely soothing. He'd had a slender chain in his pocket for days, since Chappi the smith from Elendia had come around to Asgard to pick up some work the Magi had requested; the smith had taken a shine to the young prince and made him something out of the extra metal that his project for the Magi had not needed.
"You're just like a Sprite yourself, your Highness," he'd chuckled, and handed him the chain. "You'll always have a friend in Elendia." With that the smith packed up his tools and supplies and went to deliver the items he'd finished working on to the High Council building.
It was that same chain that the bell was suspended on now, shining gold staring Ledah in the face. Without another word Ein abruptly reached up and hung the bell around the knight's neck; stepping back to view his handiwork he smiled. "It suits you," he told him, grinning. "I like it." Leaving the knight dumbfounded and staring after him, the young prince walked off back towards the city.
He had barely gone six meters before being accosted by several more demons, and with a sigh Ledah went to help the young man dispatch them. It would not do to watch the prince be slain for want of a mere answer to an undoubtedly stupid question. Ein had given him the equivalent of a lover's token out of sheer ignorance of the bell's significance, and that was all that he could possibly make of it. For the matter, there was no such relationship between them at the present either.
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What the knight didn't know was that Ein was perfectly aware of the bell's meanings and chose to give it to him anyway. There was no reason not to, he loved the knight dearly—like a friend, and a brother, and maybe more than that since he'd occasionally wake up from dreams of blonde hair and carmine eyes that… definitely were not as innocent as Ledah thought him to be. The prince had been seventeen for a while now, yet he remained shorter than his favorite knight by several inches even after puberty and the onset of his growth spurt. He didn't mind. Perhaps it had been Malice who mentioned that a boyfriend was preferably taller than oneself—he had not taken it truly to heart, but noticed vaguely with a discreet pleasure that his knight was indeed taller than he.
As a youth Ledah had possessed adorably cherubic features; now that he had grown into a tall young man his face had hardened slightly to produce a slightly inhuman, almost profane beauty. There was just something entirely unearthly about his appearance, whether it was his terribly pale skin or his carmine eyes—or both; his severe clothing suggested that he was more priest than knight. Yet he was skillful in battle, and he flew on a pair of beautiful black wings; his plumage was lovingly tended and shone like ebony silk in the light.
Ein had taken a liking to him the first day they'd met. He had been only four, and Ledah nine years old, almost ten—and without any sort of invitation or request of permission he'd clambered into the boy's lap and asked that he read him a story. The library was large, and surely the prince could have found any other companion he pleased, yet he wished only to know who the blonde boy reading in a deserted corner of the library was. What was his name, how old was he, what did he like to do—how was it that he looked so beautiful, why was he alone?
Ledah had been surprised, certainly. Actually, surprised wasn't the right word—more like utterly astounded when out of the blue and having completely lost Rose somewhere in the slightly labyrinthine interior of the large Asgard library little Prince Ecthel had essentially barreled into him and made himself comfy on his lap. He knew not that it was the prince, for the matter, only that he didn't even know the boy's name and that it was somewhat irritating to have a toddler clambering all over him. He really did want to finish his book.
At first absolutely resolved to just ignore the boy, said resolve melted like an ice cube in the sun when the younger child asked him to read him a story. "Pleeeease?"
"… Fine. What do you want to hear?"
"I wanna hear the story about Ragnarok! Please?"
The blonde angel blinked. Once, twice, three times—"Isn't it a bit violent for you?" he asked, carefully.
"Rose always reads me the picture book!" The boy was all smiles now.
"… All right. Show me where the picture book is?"
It had turned out that the "picture book" was a fairly heavy tome of children's tales, fully illustrated by an old historian who drew as beautifully as his handwriting was abysmal. Someone had gone to the effort of writing down in more legible script beneath the historian's wild scrawl exactly what it was printed in the book, which saved Ledah a headache. Thereafter, whenever Rose lost the young prince within the maze of the library, she could almost always find him sitting in a blonde angel's lap listening to the stories of those who fought in the legendary war Ragnarok.
It was a sunny day, light streaming into rooms via windows crafted to let in light as much as possible, to save candles. The sun was not overwhelming, its presence just muted enough that its heat was pleasant rather than unbearable, and those who ventured outside had their path illuminated rather than hidden by the brilliance of its rays—perfect weather, some might say.
Prince Ein was displeased.
This displeasure had nothing to do with the weather, however. Rose could not figure out why, but he had abruptly left the conference room where the High Council of Magi had been holding congress in a huff, and was now nowhere to be found. Ears angled to catch all sound—especially the kinds of sounds that annoyed princes tended to make—and tail lashing with frustration, she stalked from room to room searching for him. The Magi were waiting, and none of them were happy with this delay.
At last, frustrated that she could not find him anywhere, she enlisted Ledah—nine times out of ten, he seemed to know exactly where Ein was, and the tenth time he usually found him in short order. They split up in order to cover more ground, and as soon as Rose had turned the corner and was out of sight the knight flew over to the gardens where he knew the prince was wont to take sanctuary in times of duress.
It seemed this fell into the ninety percent category, for as predicted the prince was indeed there. He appeared to be engaged in idly watching a grasshopper jump to and fro—and from his posture preparing to pounce on it, completely disregarding that he might accidentally squash the poor thing in the process of catching it. "So this is where you went, Ein."
The prince started and lost his balance; the grasshopper hopped placidly away. "Ledah? Did Rose send you to find me?" At the knight's nod, Ein frowned. "I won't go back while they're on that subject. I won't."
"Ein, you have your responsibilities. I know you never asked for the position, but like it or not this is your post and you must deal with it accordingly."
"You don't understand. I won't deal with them while they're worrying this subject like a bone."
It was the knight's turn to frown. "What exactly is this unsavory subject that they are forcing upon you, then?" Ledah asked. "Surely it cannot be so bad. The Magi are not entirely without reason."
"This time I think they've really lost their minds, Ledah! They want me to get married! Married!"
Ledah blinked. He took a second to process the reply, and blinked again. "Marriage? The subject of matrimony surely cannot be that horrible to you…"
"Ledah, you still don't seem to get it. They want me to marry some Sprite girl from Elendia, and then they want me to hang up Einherjar for good. They told me I should become accustomed to the idea of going to a place where I would just sit around and do paperwork and start building up a belly from an overabundance of good food and look forward to turning a potbellied fifty! I can't do that!"
In the end the prince simply stormed out of the garden and straight back to the conference room. The knight had tried, out of courtesy, to keep his smile suppressed—but the mere idea of a potbellied fifty-year old Prince Ein was simply too ridiculous to imagine for very long, and he grinned widely anyway. Though the prince did have his occasional spaz moments, he was terribly cute.
He didn't laugh when the wedding was announced. The High Council of Magi had addressed the citizens of Asgard the very next day to announce that Prince Ein would be marrying the Elendian princess Fia in three months, and that they should all rejoice, for this was wonderful news.
It might be interesting to note that he wasn't the only one not "rejoicing." Rose switched her tail moodily even while a (slightly forced) smile resided on her face, and Prince Ein himself took to disappearing even more frequently than before… and he was not always in the garden. Once he managed to travel all the way to the exit portal out of Heaven's Gate before he was ambushed by demons, and Ledah barely got there in time to keep him from getting killed. Other times he was not in the garden or out fighting demons—he was being forced to stand still and allow tailors to take his measurements and fit his formal uniform to him for the upcoming wedding.
After three weeks of alternate compliance with the pushy tailors and wandering out to Heaven's Gate to slaughter any demons unfortunate enough to wander into his path—for with time, Ledah's tutelage, and his own training, he grew more capable of defending himself—Prince Ecthel vanished once again. Rose stalked down the hallways in a terrible rage, but not to find him—she headed straight for High Council.
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"Have you heard, have you heard?" one of the serving girls asked her friends excitedly. "Miss Crawford is in an awful fit of temper! She just went and bawled out all of the High Council! Imagine that—I wonder what could have caused it?"
The dining hall was nearly empty, save for a dryad visiting from Elendia, the serving girls, and Ledah. He listened idly, pushing the last meatball around his plate with his fork as he wondered why the prince was not there—he usually took his meals at about the same time as the knight did, and in the dining hall as well. It seemed odd that he would be absent—Ein was never one to miss a meal, though his slender frame belied the fact.
"I heard Miss Crawford's all upset because his Highness is missing again. She even walked into Heaven's Gate and nearly got attacked looking for him." The gossip looked around, and lowered her voice. "I heard that she's trying to get the Magi to call off the engagement. Maybe she's jealous."
Rose, jealous of the Elendian princess? Ledah coughed to mask a snort of derision, causing the dryad at the end of the table to look up from his book. Draining his water glass, the knight wondered how it was that gossip could blow simple facts so far out of proportion. Simply put, Ein was missing and Rose was upset. Understandably, since the whole engagement deal had put both… no, all three of them on edge. The knight had to admit he wasn't eager to see the prince married off to some girl Ein had probably never met before. Diplomatic visits by royalty from other places were exceedingly rare, almost nonexistent, since the trip to Heaven's Gate itself was difficult—the abundance of demons around made it nearly impossible.
"Excuse me, good sir, I'm terribly sorry to be so abrupt, but could you perchance direct me to the library? I'm afraid I've gotten myself quite turned about; I've never been here before." The dryad had abandoned his luncheon and stood about a yard away from Ledah.
The knight decided he would follow suit, and gave up on the meatball. "I planned on going there to begin with, so you may as well come with me."
Clasping his book to his chest, the dryad smiled gratefully. "Thank you very much, sir. I was beginning to wonder whether I'd have to return to the Magic Guild in shame that I'd never had the chance to see the library so widely reputed to be incredible."
Ah. The Magic Guild—of course, that was probably how the dryad had come to Asgard in the first place, he didn't seem sturdy enough to withstand the journey otherwise. He had probably made use of a magic circle or a teleport spell.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I never introduced myself. My name is Claude. I'm a researcher in Elendia's Magic Guild."
Researcher? He had definitely used some magical travel aid, then, for no researcher Ledah knew could swing a weapon and hurt their opponent more than themselves. They usually studied too many topics to be very good with any specific variety of magic, though they tended to know all sorts of handy clean-up spells. "Well met, Claude. I am Ledah Rozwelli, knight of Asgard."
The dryad's eyes went wide. "A knight? Truly? May I ask you some things, Sir Rozwelli? I was curious about the weapons it is rumored the knights of Asgard wield…"
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After depositing Claude in the section of the library devoted entirely to spells—and how the dryad's eyes had gone wide at the shelves and shelves of rare, ancient tomes in the sacred tongue!—the knight headed to a section where he used to sit and read in his youth. The lighting was good, the chairs were comfortable, there was plenty of ink and paper upon which to take notes of particularly interesting developments and themes, and no shortage of sharp quills. Rose loved the library as well, but she tended to haunt a different section for the numerous writers' self-help books to be found.
It wasn't the quills or the ink or the paper or the ready availability of good literature that drew Ledah to the section today, however. He'd just had a hunch that the prince would be there, in the last place Rose expected him to hide.
"… Ledah, how did you find me?" the prince asked, incredulous. He'd managed to evade detection by everyone else who might care to search him out, and yet Ledah had found him almost effortlessly. Ein had heard that the knight was in the dining hall when the uproar about his royal absence had begun.
The knight studied Ein's troubled expression for a while. "I had assumed," he began, slowly, "… that perhaps what troubled Rose and you would be one and the same. But you didn't want her to be able to find you, Ein, because that meant the rest of the castle would be able to find you… is this why you're glaring a hole through the tabletop from the vantage point of my chair?"
"… You haven't been by here lately anyway. I didn't think you'd care," the prince mumbled.
"True. It's only a chair. About you, however…"
"What about me?" came Ein's weary response. "What about me? Everything's been about me. Me and my freaking marriage to an Elendian girl I've never met. She probably can't even pick up a weapon, let alone fight demons. She can't pull my ass out of a sticky situation if I wind up too far outnumbered. She's probably some prissy little thing who only cares about her appearance and won't even remember my name right half the time! Why can't it be about one of those uptight Magi at some point in time? Maybe we'll have something interesting happen around here and another magus will turn traitor! Then it won't have to be about me anymore, no, the High Council will be too busy covering its ass to nag me about freaking marriage!!"
Ledah's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Don't ever say that."
"Why not? I don't want to get married. I don't know her, I don't think I'll ever love her, and I'm pretty sure you'd be happier if I didn't marry her!"
The knight studied the prince's face intently for a lingering moment, before turning away. "I don't think you remember this at all. The rest of the Magi erased your memory of this incident because of its traumatic effects on you. Do you remember who it was who gave me my knighthood?"
"… No. I don't… it seems like you've always been a knight."
"… Think about it. Why is it that I, a relatively inexperienced knight in comparison to the others, am bound to serve the prince? Should I not serve the magus who inducted me?"
"… Hector?"
The knight nodded grimly. "Yes. Hector."
"So what are you trying to tell me?" The prince's eyes fixed themselves squarely on Ledah. The knight could feel his gaze boring into the back of his head, and wished that there was another way. Another time, another place, somewhere—anywhere—but here…
"… Hector turned traitor, and because you stood in the way of his aim to usurp Odin's throne—for you are Odin's eternal heir, so to speak—he ordered me to kill you."
"But I'm still here, Ledah. Nothing happened. You didn't do it." There was a smile on the prince's face now, the very picture of youth triumphant.
Ledah didn't turn around. "… I tried to follow my orders."
The smile faltered. "But… you never fail. I would be dead if you'd really tried to kill me."
"… I did try. Another magus was passing by the hallway where I had brought you and heard you asking me why I was attempting such a thing, and she came to your rescue." The knight very carefully steeled himself for the rejection he knew was imminent.
"… You're lying." Ein's voice was small, though, as if he knew that the words were true.
"… I speak the truth, Ein."
"So that was why they executed Hector? Because he'd ordered you to kill me? Because you'd actually tried to kill me, and botched the job? Because you'd gotten caught red-handed and they managed to get who was behind this out of you? That was why they executed him?" Ein's voice grew louder in pitch until the knight was sure the entire library could hear him. "That was why they had you swear fealty to me? As penance for trying to kill me?"
"Ein…"
The prince's voice grew cold, quiet… deadly. "You forget your place, knight."
Ledah couldn't hide how it made his feathers ruffle, hearing the prince's tone. He didn't try to hide it, knowing that was exactly the prince's intentions. "Forgive me, your Highness."
"Leave me. I wish not to see you now."
"… Yes, Ei—my liege." Banished thus, the knight walked away.
After that day, the prince saw little of his sworn knight. Whenever they crossed paths in the halls, the knight would bow as was required of an underling, and never meet his eyes. He was always gone before the prince could even think of lifting his banishment.
Rose shook her head when she learned of the incident in the library. "You idiot prince," she muttered, without heat. "Couldn't you tell that he didn't really want to follow those orders? He's had plenty of opportunities to stab you in the back and hasn't taken any of them. Doesn't that count for anything at all?"
Ein had no reply. Having not held a proper conversation with Ledah since that day in the library, he devoted himself to learning the lines he was supposed to speak for the marriage ceremony, and did not complain when the High Council sent him tutors to teach him to dance. His etiquette tutor drilled him mercilessly, but he worked hard and practiced to the point that Rose began to lament the loss of the prince's old casual self.
From afar, the knight watched his prince learn the ways that went completely against Ein's carefree heart—and learn them well—without his guidance or tutelage. He hardened his heart against the pangs of longing pricking his eyes and sticking in his throat like a bite of week-old dinner roll.
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Two weeks had passed. The Elendian princess arrived with an entourage of young women, all Sprites—armed, almost in spite of Ein's initial impression of his fiancée, with a variety of weapons and various elemental alignments. Her name was Fia, she said, introducing herself with a curtsy, and her friends were Serene, an Arc; Lina, also from Elendia; and Cierra, of the Magic Guild. Ladie, a young woman with white wings wielding a spear, had accompanied the group at the behest of the Elendian king. Fia was his granddaughter, it seemed, and it would not do to allow her to come to harm.
Ein was polite. Very, very polite… almost to the point that Rose felt sorry for the poor girl. Fia did everything she could to break through Ein's shell, but nothing she said or did seemed to break past his polite exterior. Various times she returned to her assigned chambers almost in tears from frustration at his coldly polite barrier.
There was one moment when she coaxed a spark of life from him—when she challenged him to a practice duel. She was quick with her rapier and for a moment Ein seemed truly alive as he parried and attacked, attacked and parried, never letting his guard down and glorying in the rush of battle.
--And then she was on the floor in a tumble of skirts, rapier sent flying from her hand, and his sword pointed at her throat—there, he remembered where he was, and the light in his eyes quickly dimmed. "Forgive me, Princess."
"Ein…" she began, but he had already helped her to her feet and turned to leave. "Ein, please… we're to be married! Perhaps you fancied another, but if this is the way it must be… then let us make this a pleasant arrangement. If you must be untrue to me, then so be it, but please! Don't be so cold, we are supposed to be as equals!"
The light she had glimpsed as he had sparred against her did not return to his eyes when he turned around to face her again. "Princess… never have I tried to make clear to you any difference in standing between us. That thought has never crossed my mind… forgive me if it seemed so to you."
"Ein…" But he was gone, Fia's words spoken in vain. "Ein, why won't you ever call me by name?"
The day of the wedding had come. The Magi presided over the ceremony, each smiling and in their best ceremonial garb—each smiling outwardly, that is. See, there was one small, small hitch in their plans—the prince was missing. His ceremonial clothes were still laid out next to his mirror, perfectly pressed and decorated tastefully with intricate embroidery on his collar and cuffs. No one knew where he was—or where Ledah had gone either, being the only other person in the city who was good at keeping track of the prince.
"Did you hear?" whispered a maid in the hallways to a fellow servant. "I saw Sir Rozwelli this morning looking really upset. I mean, it's totally not like him, but I wonder if something happened. You almost always saw him and the prince together before, but they haven't been even in the same room much lately."
"I heard that they had a dreadful row some weeks back in the library," murmured her friend conspiratorially. "Maybe some kind of lovers' spat?"
"Oh! Maybe he's upset because the prince is getting married and leaving him?" the maid tittered. "Wouldn't that be something, if he had been having an affair with the prince?"
Rose stalked past, lashing her tail in frustration. "Can't you girls find something else to gossip about?" she snapped, irritably. "Leave Ledah alone, he's got enough on his plate without you hopeless gossip-mongers spreading rumors about him."
"Oh, but Miss Crawford, don't you think it's true? His Highness and Sir Rozwelli used to spend so very much time together; they can't surely be just friends…"
"They're childhood friends. Nothing more. Now enough with your gossiping, go be productive!" She stalked off, leaving the maids to shoot glares in her direction and promptly resume their discussion of castle life and news.
The garden was unoccupied when Ledah slid the door open and stepped out into the shade of a large tree. The air was pleasantly cool, and the sun filtered by thin clouds; the ivy climbing the walls was in no greater profusion than before, and the roses were still lovingly tended.
He could remember when Ein had given him a rose. Blood red, with vicious thorns that had left bloody marks on the prince's fingers, an oddity of a rose within the plethora of white roses, pink roses, yellow roses. The knight hadn't understood at all. "Ein… your hands!" If you wished to give me a flower, any would have been fine—why hurt yourself so badly for me?
"It's all right, Ledah. I… don't know why. I just had to get this one," the prince replied. He grinned, wryly. "It reminded me of you."
"I… thank you, Ein." The rose left marks on his fingers too, blood-stained thorns biting into the callused flesh of the knight's palm. "It's beautiful." And the rose was beautiful, in a cruel sort of way.
"Kind of like you, Ledah." But the prince had spoken so softly Ledah could not say whether the words had truly been spoken, or if he'd only imagined them.
-
Normally he could have found the prince in the garden. But when the prince no longer trusted him, naturally he would go someplace where he could not be found. The knight trudged wearily over to the solitary bench located under an ancient pear tree and sat down, head in his hands. Unfamiliar emotions swirled within his mind, and it took him a moment to identify them—regret, guilt, sorrow. "… If only I hadn't told him, I would have had longer before I lost him…"
"Lost who?" came a familiar voice. "… Sir Rozwelli, are you going to fall apart on me now? We can't have that, now can we? Asgard needs you, and believe it or not Ein needs you too." Rose stood there in front of him, tail for once not lashing in frustration.
"… Rose."
"Ledah, get your ass up off that bench and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Ein's an idiot, we'll just have to pound some sense into his head later. After we find him, that is."
The knight stood up, an unreadable expression on his face. "I don't know where to look anymore."
The historian hissed in annoyance. "Ledah, he's been getting really stir-crazy these past few days. Think about it—where else would he go?"
Struck by realization, the knight practically flew out of the garden, Lorelei in hand. Rose chuckled as she watched him leave, shaking her head at her charge and his knight's sheer stubborn inability to see the whole picture.
"Heh. Men."
Hack. Slash. Pivot, twist-block-lunge, sweep, pause—repeat. Demon blood flew everywhere, Ein's clothing was covered in it; his arms shrieked protest as he hefted Einherjar and took down yet another demon.
But the demons kept coming. Dimly he wondered how there were so many of them, even while his body kept moving and took off one's head, and stabbed another through the heart. There were so many… perhaps it had been an ambush. He'd wondered why there hadn't been any demons as he wandered further and further from Asgard, and this was why—they were waiting to ambush the foolish prince of Asgard, the one foolish enough to wander out alone! For every one that he killed, it seemed that three stepped in to take its place, and though the bodies piled up around him he knew that it was only a matter of time before his body reached its limit.
With a yell, he gathered his remaining energy and leaped into the fray. "DISARESTA!"
One by one, more demons went down—and then a blast of searing flame blew by him to engulf a large ape-like demon outside of Einherjar's reach. What in Odin's name—?
Oh. The red-clad figure closing in on the demons' flank and cutting through them like a scythe through ripe wheat—that explained a lot. "Ledah!" Ein cried, feeling overwhelmed, relieved, and so happy to see him that he couldn't explain it, all at once. "Ledah, I thought maybe this time you wouldn't come, but you did!"
"How could I ever abandon you, my liege?" the knight replied, dispatching a batch of demons with fluid ease. The tide was turned, and very quickly the battle was won.
-
The fierce camaraderie did not last. As the last of the demons fell beneath their blades, Ledah lowered Lorelei and spoke, softly. "The princess is waiting for you, my liege. The wedding ceremony cannot commence if the groom is absent."
Casting the knight a weary look, Ein asked, "Can't I skip it? The Magi can chew me out all they want, but there's no point in me marrying a girl I'm only interested in as a sparring partner."
"It is your duty to the Magi and Asgard, my liege."
"I… why must it be me?"
Ledah smiled faintly, humorlessly. "Because there is no other who can fulfill your role."
Ein's face hardened. "Fine. But I'll go back on one condition…"
Fia wrung her hands beneath her veil. Her dress was beautiful, Lina patiently held her bouquet so she could indulge in her worry, and Serene had even cleaned up and put on a pair of dress slacks despite her claim that they were constricting. Cierra's magic had not gone wrong, and Ladie looked fiercely beautiful. There was no point in worrying, though, because the High Council of Magi said the prince was coming. Ein would come. There was no point in worrying, she told herself over and over again, her nervous mantra.
But she was ready to give up. The princess knew that there was no love in the match, for whom else had made it but two governmental parties interested only in the knitting of an alliance? Ein did not look at her with love in his eyes, and the only time she'd seen him as himself—open and unshielded by the barriers of etiquette—was the day she'd sparred with him and lost to him. Even that had not lasted long. "Ein…" she murmured, half-wishing he would come and wondering if he had run off with his true love. There had to be another whom he loved more than anything, perhaps a woman he'd grown up with and come to love as only could be seen with the closest of friends. "Freya, please grant me this one boon and let him come…"
--And he'd come, throwing the cathedral doors open with a boom. His face was sloppily washed, as if he'd just come off a battlefield and had no time to do a proper job cleaning up—there was a splatter of blood on his left cheek—but he was handsome in his uniform and Fia could not have asked to marry a better man. Behind him stood a blonde knight of Asgard, garbed in his customary red. The blonde murmured something and the prince's hand immediately flew to the spot—the knight produced a handkerchief from a pocket. Ein smiled and allowed him to rub the bloodstain off.
Fia understood immediately. No, she was not to lose her husband to be to another woman. There was another for Ein, but not another woman like she had thought—he smiled easily for the knight he'd come in with. But he walked with such natural poise down the aisle to meet her—late though he was—and she could not help but ignore this, and pray only that he would be hers for as long as she could keep him.
-------
"—we are gathered to witness the union of Princess Fia, of the Rivieran kingdom Elendia; and Prince Ein, heir of Asgard and Odin's throne. Princess, do you swear to cherish and protect Prince Ein to the end of your days? Will you stand by him in times of plague and famine, in days dark and light, no matter the trials and tribulations?"
The princess nodded. "I do so swear, upon my birthright and all I hold dear."
"Hrhrmm. Very good, very good." The priest turned to Ein. "And you, Prince Ein… do you swear to cherish and protect Princess Fia to the end of your days? Will you stand by her in times of plague and famine, in days dark and light, no matter the trials and tribulations?"
-
The prince opened his mouth to speak, and Ledah could not watch. He excused himself silently, but there was no hiding the sound of the large double doors—they creaked terribly and he cursed himself for causing a disruption, but there was no turning back. He could not stand to see the prince bind himself to another for all eternity, and—was that jealousy welling up inside him? It was a bitter feeling, and against everything he'd ever resolved, there was something warm and wet trailing down his face, not much unlike fresh blood. Tears, maybe? They choked him so he could not speak, and rather than force his liege to bear witness to his misery he fled. After all, what place had he in a wedding? He was only a knight, no matter how many times he'd saved the prince and how many days they'd spent in the library together as children. He was only a knight, nothing more.
He didn't hear the prince calling after him.
-
"Ledah? Wait, Ledah!"
"Prince Ein, this is your royal wedding! What business does a knight have leaving like that?" the priest declared, in a huff.
But the prince's mind was already made up. "I'm sorry, Fia. I can't marry you. I can't do it—I don't love you, not the way you deserve to be loved. You're sweet, and kind, and I'm grateful that someone as wonderful as you has feelings for me, but… I can't do this. It wouldn't be fair to you. I'm sure you'll find someone who's better suited to you, and I wish you luck in finding him." And he was gone, running down the aisle towards the door and out of the cathedral. "Ledah, please, wait!!"
Fia choked back the tears. She would not cry, not here, not now. "I understand, Ein," she murmured, voice trembling. "I understand." Realizing that this turn of events had made the High Council positively livid with rage, she composed herself and raised her voice. "I, Fia of Elendia, swear that there shall be an alliance between our two kingdoms, be there a wedding or not. I swear this on the memory of my mother, witnessed by the gods and all present here today. I will return home and arrange the specifics of the alliance with my advisors posthaste!" She pushed back her veil and let down her hair. There was no need to have it bound up now.
"Then we of the Magi shall hold true to our promise of alliance. Asgard will always stand with you, Princess of Elendia. May the gods watch over us all." It was unclear which of the Magi had spoken, but their overall atmosphere seemed to have relaxed.
"Yes… may the gods watch over us all." Fia smiled. It was going to be okay. Even if Ein wouldn't marry her, everything would be okay. She felt as if some great weight had been taken off her shoulders, and with a genuine smile on her face she took the flower basket from Cierra and began throwing flowers to the guests gathered inside the cathedral. Even without a wedding, there was cause to celebrate.
"Ledah, wait!"
The knight touched down, having taken off for only the barest moment before the prince's voice had reached him. "My liege?"
"I'm sorry, Ledah. I shouldn't have been so stupid. I know you wouldn't hurt me, not willingly. I shouldn't have reacted like that. Please… don't push me away with a title!"
"Ein… I don't think anyone else in your position would have reacted differently. I regretted bringing it up, though it was your right to know. I am sworn to serve you now, so no longer can I be ordered to act against you... that was why the Magi had me swear fealty to you." Ledah could not meet the prince's eyes. "I… wished to serve penance. If not for their decision, then I would have offered myself to the executioner willingly. I saw no point in continuing my existence when I had committed such a grievous crime. You gave me a reason to live, Ein."
The prince locked eyes with him. "Ledah… let me tell you now; you're not getting away from me that easily. Come hell or high water, you're going to stay by my side. You can't leave me, ever! I won't let you leave me… I need you, Ledah. You're the one who pulls my tail out of the fire when I get ambushed by demons, and you're the one who finds me whenever I've managed to evade Rose. You're the one who gets me out of my room through the window whenever Rose decides to confine me there until she thinks I should be allowed out again."
"I had thought that you had washed your hands of me," came the knight's soft reply, redirecting his eyes at the floor. Ein realized with a jolt that there were tear stains tracked down Ledah's face.
"And I was stupid to react like that. You've had plenty of opportunities to stick Lorelei in my back and you've taken none of them. Hector was the traitor, not you. Look at me, Ledah. That's an order."
Commanded thus, Ledah raised his eyes to meet the prince's. What he saw shocked him—and he remembered the rose and the bell. "Do you not have a princess to marry?" he asked, quelling the strange feeling rising up within him.
"I can't marry her, Ledah. I told you that." The prince's voice was firm, but his eyes were gentle. "I can't. You see… it's not her I love." Ein took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around the knight, embracing him with every ounce of tenderness he held in his heart. "It's you."
His sworn knight colored very faintly. "You… can't possibly mean that?"
"I do, Ledah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you, or if you can't bear the thought of growing old I want to go out in battle together with you, fighting whatever enemy we challenged to the end. It's something no one but you can give me."
"Surely you don't harbor feelings for such a reason," the knight commented, wryly.
"Oh, no. You're the only one for me, Ledah. The only one. No one else knows me like you do, not even Rose. And… you're beautiful. You're patient with me too, when gods knows everyone else just throws their hands up and despairs with 'the stubborn, foolish prince.' You've never given up on me. Not even when you thought I'd given up on you. You still came through for me, even though I'd treated you coldly and told you to go away."
"I only did as expected of a good knight. I did not want you to be slain for walking out alone, and I… enjoy fighting at your side." Still, though, the knight looked awkward and did not reciprocate the prince's embrace.
"… Just let it out."
"Pardon me, Ein?"
The prince sighed. "Ledah… if for whatever reason you're holding back, don't. Damn it, I love you. I'm not going to leave you. I'm most certainly not going to reject you. It's weird, but it hurt more to treat you like you were my inferior than it did to hear about you trying to kill me. I know now that you didn't even want to. Just… if there's something on your mind, then tell me."
Ein had not let go. Hesitantly, Ledah allowed himself to draw his prince closer and actually hold him, though his sense of propriety screamed at him that he shouldn't really be doing this, no matter how much he wanted to. "… Ein… I don't know what I'm holding back. I don't understand how these things work."
"Ledah?"
"Yes, Ein?"
"Just shut up and kiss me."
"Yes, my prince." He leaned in to softly press his lips against Ein's. The kiss quickly went from innocent to heated, and oh, it was sweet. Neither of them were particularly experienced with kissing, and they bumped noses a couple of times, but Ein was rubbing that particular spot between his wings as they kissed and separated and kissed again and it made his knees go weak and the prince's eyes were growing hazy with desire, and eventually the knight had to tear his lips away from the prince's and murmur, "Not here, someone will see!"
"Let them see," Ein murmured back. "You're all mine, and I want the world to know it. Without you, the entire world would mean nothing to me."
"Ein…" The last barriers fell. Ledah hugged him tightly, eyes sliding shut. "… I love you more than anything. I would rather die than harm you. I… cannot imagine a world without you."
"I know, Ledah." Closing the distance between them once more, the prince claimed another kiss.
--------------------
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a prince and a knight. Angels both, the prince had lost his wings in his youth for his holy sword; the knight had locked his heart away in his training and his occupation. But each discovered something anew in each other—in mutual love, the prince's heart took flight, and the knight found his own waiting patiently for the day one came along with the key to its unlocking.
They lived together, much in love, for many years—but alas, fate is cruel. The prince was taken captive, and per his captor's demands the knight went to rescue him alone—and thus was their reunion short and bittersweet, for they lived not to return to Asgard. Seeing the prince slain before his very eyes, the knight flew into a rage and danced the steps of battle, that he might have his revenge. But once his lover's killer had fallen, he had no more reason to live—and so he took the body of his love and flew away, and nevermore was he seen alive. Thus ends their tale, in tragedy—but hearken, for their love was true and the gods bore witness and wept for them.
For three months after the knight had vanished, having willed himself to death after slaying his lover's murderer, the heavens opened up and upon the Promised Land of Riviera there was rain. It rained, for the tears of the gods, and for the tears of the Elendian princess—for she had not forgotten the prince, and had prayed for his happiness as he had once wished her the same.
I miss them, both of them. But here I am, writing this… the last one left of the three. To Ein and Ledah… you beautiful idiots. Idealistic in your own ways and fighters to the end, you died like the ill-fated lovers of a ballad I used to love. May you meet again in Valhalla, dear prince, esteemed knight.
--Excerpt from the writings of Rose R. Crawford, historian.