Hi, it's Akiko again! Alright, this fic isn't quite as depressing as the
last one I posted, so, here we go!

All the King's Gold
Chapter 1, Part 1
Of Prophecies and Princesses

Princess Misty knew she wasn't pretty.

In the perfect, calm, peaceful Lesser Kingdom of Cerulean, no one
had expected a misfit princess. Her three older sisters, Daisy, Violet,
and Lily, were all model princesses. They had perfect bodies, perfect
faces, perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfectly sweet dispositions...and
perfectly empty heads. As all princesses, they embroidered and danced,
and knew exactly how loud and how many times they should scream when
being carried off by a giant, or a dragon, or any other such nasty
creature that would wait in its lair for knights to rescue its prize.

Or eat the princess.

But Misty wasn't an average princess. Despite her fifteen years,
she was still short and scrawny. Her hair was flyaway, and distinctly
orange. Her blue eyes and pale complexion were pretty enough, but she
tended to freckle easily in the sun. If her looks weren't bad enough for
a princess, she had a rather nasty temper, no patience to speak of, and
had a dislike for dresses and all formal occasions.

She was telling her mother so before an upcoming ball to
celebrate her fast approaching sixteenth birthday.

"My dear Misty, if you would simply give your gowns a chance-"

"Mother! I don't want to!" Misty made sure her voice carried to
ever corner of the Great Hall, quite a feat considering its size. Even
for a large and prosperous kingdom, the Great Hall of Cerulean Castle was
extravagant. A small village could fit comfortably within its marble
walled confines, with room to spare. "I don't like dresses, I don't like
balls, and I don't like being a princess!"

With a huff she turned and stalked from the raised dais where her
parents' twin thrones resided, nearly knocking two maids holding large
dishes of food over.

She wandered aimlessly through Cerulean Castles' many long halls,
spiral staircases and turreted towers before she came to her chambers.
Once there, she fell face forward on the blue bedspread. She would have
cried, but that seemed far too princess-like for her.

"I really don't like being a princess," she realized sitting up.
"I suppose this is when I go off and seek my fortune...yes...that's what
I want! I want adventure, excitement!"

With immense excitement, she began making plans. The side door
of the outer walls was always unlocked, and usually left unguarded.

"But I had best attend the ball," she decided. "If I'm not
there, Mother and Father will know that something is amiss."

************

The ball came all too fast. Misty was forced to stand still for
hours while her seamstresses folded, tucked, and stitched until her gown
fit her just right. It was a cumbersome thing, all of velvet and silk,
all in varying shades of blue, and all of it trimmed heavily with sliver.
A tiny crown of silver and pearl had been crafted to be pinned in her
hair, and blue velvet dancing slippers had been made for the occasion.
The was primped, curled, perfumed, and dressed up like a doll.

She hated every minute of it.

Finally the great occasion came. The orchestra's soft music
mingled with the scent of roses in the air. Tables that stretched from
wall to wall groaned with the feast laid out upon their silk tablecloths.
Every dish imaginable and even some foreign dishes from beyond the sea
were quickly devoured. Nobles from far off lands conversed lightly, and
the younger courtiers danced in their slow, spinning tradition.

After eating, Misty only sat near one of the floor to ceiling
windows and scowled. She truly hated formal occasions.

"Ah, there you are, daughter!" her father boomed, parting the
crowds with his considerable girth. A strange boy kept step behind him.

****************

He had dark hair and eyes, and was dressed in maroon and pale blue, Bard
colors. In his hands he carried a beautifully crafted lute, even though
it was strapped to his shoulder. Misty eyed him with mistrust. "Your
sixteenth birthday! A marvelous occasion indeed!"

Those in the room clapped politely. The applause didn't last
long, the nobles that did know Misty were not overly fond of her.

"And for such a marvelous occasion, a special present!" he shoved
the boy forward and clapped him hard on the back. The boy staggered,
bringing the lute up to his chest so he wouldn't release it, and gave the
King a look of contempt out of the corner of one eye. Misty refrained
from saying anything, the boy had to be at least a year younger than her,
and probably didn't know any better.

"A boy?" she said instead with all of the disdain she could
muster. Which was a lot, she didn't like the scrawny boy in front of
her. "And what, pray tell, am I to do with him, Father?"

The King through back his head and laughed. The boy gave her a
sour look. She gave a small smirk of satisfaction when her father
clapped him on the back again, and his knees nearly buckled. "My dear!
This is no mere boy! This is Bard Ashton, rumored to be able to sing a
prophecy for anyone standing in front of him! I thought it right that he
sing your own on this joyous day!"

Misty could have sworn that she heard the Bard mutter something
about flowery speeches, but couldn't be sure. The entire hall fell
silent, and a chair was pulled up so the Bard could sit in front of her.

****************

He arranged his lute just so, then studied her for a moment.

"Well?" she snapped, her patience never had lasted long. "Get on
with it!"

"Patience is a virtue," he said softly. But the moment his
fingers touched the strings, all of her impatience melted away. The
melody was painfully beautiful to listen to, she was sure that if given
the chance, she would have listened to him play for forever. His brown
eyes glazed over, as if he couldn't see her or the Hall anymore, and a
faint glow surrounded him.

And then the words came.

"A Lady by birth
For all of riches' worth
Seeks only the Earth

Be free, wild one
You have only to run
The pact is done

The Bard will guide you
Loyal and true
You know what to do."


The music stopped, and the Bard broke from his trance. He shook
his head, as if to clear it, and stood.

"You call that a prophecy?" she snorted.

Her father gave her a severe look. "Misty…"

"I was paid to sing a prophecy to the Princess Misty, and sing
you a prophecy I did," the Bard said, bowing low.

"You said that you would guide me," Misty said incredulously. In
the back of her mind she wondered if the Bard had meant her plans for
running away to seek her fortune that very night.

He straitened. "Did I? It's unfortunate that I don't remember
the prophecies I sing for people."

Typical.

Bard Ashton slipped back into the crowds, and Misty was showered
with gifts, congratulations and fake smiles. After what seemed to be an
eternity, but in reality was a little over an hour, she was finally
allowed to return to her chambers.

Once there, she changed into a dress more suitable for travel as
quickly as she could. This one was a forest green, with cream colored
sleeves tied by green ribbon. She decided against clipping a small
golden crown into her hair, but brought it in a small pack she slung over
her shoulder. Aside from the crown, it held seven spare silken
handkerchiefs, two apples, a small bottle of water, and a jeweled dagger
she had stolen from the table, just in case she needed it. Ankle-high
boots of the softest doeskin replaced her slippers.

Satisfied with her appearance and supplies, Misty left her room.
It wasn't very hard to sneak past the drunken guard in the corridor, or
the old, nearsighted, stone deaf gatekeeper. She stepped onto the cobble
streets of Cerulean City, free at last.

**********

Hope you guys enjoyed that. More coming soon! Please R&R!
Gary: Hey, why am I NOT in this fic yet?
Because I hate you.
Brock: Then why am I not in this fic?
Because you have no eyes.
Gary: Do you really hate me?
No, you're my favorite character.
Gary: Then why am I not in this yet.
Because you deserve a very dramatic entrance.
Gary: Do I get one?
Maybe.

Stay tuned for the second part of Chapter 1:
Bards, Knights, and Sorcerers, Oh My!