Hello, my name is Noelle Anna-Marie!
This story is a two-shot that I'm doing as my first story for fanfiction. It doesn't have much reference to the fandom, Yu-Gi-Oh, as it's in. But there is enough to call it a fanfiction. Later parts might contain a character from Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal, though any relation to that series will be pre-cannon.
The Princess and the Dragon
Part One: The Princess
ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a king and queen who wanted a child more than anything in the whole world. At last, God looked down and felt empathy for them, and gave them a daughter. The whole kingdom rejoiced at the birth of the beautiful new princess.
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A castle looms above the countryside. Its walls tall and gray. The doors arc toward the sky. Windows encase vibrant colors as they tell long forgotten tales of valor. And in a secluded corner along the western wall, a single tower pierces the heavens.
A sudden tremorous call of fanfare cuts through the uniform jabbering of peasants.
"Make way for the Duke and Duchess of Lichtdrachen!"
"Make way for the Lady of Kentworth!"
"Make way for the Dame de L'Hiver!"
The curtain of one of the carriages parted, revealing a curious blue eye framed by dark stands of hair. It looked around in amazement, trying to capture as much as humanly possible.
"Papa?"
The rustling of paper followed by a weary dark eye, "Yes, Clara?"
The young girl, only about 5 herself, shifted in her seat and pulled on her frilly, (extremely uncomfortable) blue skirts.
"When are we going to see the princess?"
"At the christening, my dear," A new voice responded. It was as sweet as honey, but its owner was sweeter. Gentle red eyes glanced at her stepdaughter before resettling on the grand festivities outside her window. An idle hand rested on her enlarged stomach, clothed in scarlet.
"What does she look like?"
The paper rustled again before its owner responded, "I don't know, Clara. No one has seen her since she was born."
"Why?"
"Because she's the princess. She's special."
"She must be lonely."
"I don't think so, Clara. She has her parents, my brother and sister in law, the king and queen tending to her. Not to mention all the servants."
"What's her name?"
The voice of honey trilled for a second time, "Only the king and queen know, except perhaps the bishop."
The choruses began anew.
"Part for the Count of Chamberlain!"
"Make room for the carriages of Her Greatness, the Lady of Lain!"
The Duchess sighed into her other hand, "There are a great many people come to see the princess aren't there?"
"Step aside for His Majesty, King Herbert the Ironheart of Galamis!"
The Duke of Lichtdrachen nodded.
"Indeed, my dearest Emilie, indeed."
"Make way for the Lord of Herzstan!"
*note the meaning behind the names:
Lichtdrachen - German; "licht" means "light", "drachen" means "dragon" (*hint, hint*)
Galamis - reference to Macbeth, who was the Thane of Galamis at the start of the play
Dame de L'Hiver - French; literally "lady of the winter"
Herzstan - German; "Herz" means "Heart", "Stan" means "stone"; thus "stone heart"
These are hints some of their personalities and to future events. Some won't show up again.
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Meanwhile
High above the crowded and overly decorated streets lined with people (and carriages filled with people) eager to see their new princess, was a balcony. The balcony, gray stoned with a curtain-clad door, was attached to a room. Inside the room were three occupants. Their shadows cast eerily on the stone walls and vibrant tapestries.
The man paced the worn rock floor, his hands clasped behind his back. His head shaking slowly from side to side as though troubled. Unintelligible mumbling pasted thin lips. Long, dark hair swayed with his motions. A handsome, still young face could be seen through the locks. A heavy gold crown adorns his brow. His figure is clad in green to match his eyes. His black pointy-toed shoes tap along the stones.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The melodic chimes on the clock on the mantle ring out.
Ding Dong Ding Dong, Dong Ding Ding Dong.
Tap. Dong. Tap. Dong. Tap. Dong.
He pauses, "three o'clock. They all should be here now." The king resumes the pacing.
A woman follows him with her eyes. Brown hair pulled out of her face in an elegant bun. Curling tendrils escaping to cascade from the nape of a milk white neck to touch the back of her violet gown.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She narrowed her brown eyes at her husband. This was getting annoying. She stood from her chair by the fire. With strides that could make any politician envious, she approached her life-long mate. A slender hand snaked around his arm.
"Darling, please sit down. It's not like the world is ending."
"You don't know that. What if they don't like her?"
The queen gave him a dubious look.
"Is that what you're worried about?"
"No," his words became hushed, "what if she told the truth?"
The queen paused before responding.
"There's always the chance she could be wrong about that. Who would listen to such a bizarre stranger?"
"She looked believable."
"Charles, she had pointed ears and was clearly insane."
She pulled him down beside her into two chairs by a crib. Leaning over, she cooed to its inhabitant before lifting the child into its mother's arms.
"Hello, Dearest; you won't listen to what a crazy woman says like Daddy, would you?"
The king crossed his arms and gave a "humph."
His wife's menstruations toward their daughter continued.
The girl giggled when her mother tickled her. She was a pale child who had inherited her father's thick black hair. But full lashes parted to reveal her greatest advantage of them all. No one quite knew why, but the princess had picked up on a rare physical trait.
The princess had large, ruby red eyes.
There was a knock on the thick wooden door.
A blank-faced page enters the room and bows before reciting the message.
"Forgive me Your Majesties, but the christening ceremony is starting."
The woman turned to her husband.
"You go ahead. We'll be right down."
She produced a bejeweled hair piece and clipped it onto her child's soft tufts.
My sister wanted me to name the elf woman 'Dobby'. Or 'Winkey'. Or a name from The Hobbit. I said no.
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Music erupted from the pipes of an organ. At the front row of the left hand pews, a couple arises at their que. The woman holds a squirming babe in her arms. The child, clad in white, is finding amusement in picking at the itchy lace of the long white gown that restricts her movements.
A little ways down in the isle, a young girl sat awaiting the start of the ceremony.
The girl stared at the child before turning to the dark man on her right and whispering a quick question. He nodded and smiled briefly at the woman on her right.
A priest, eyes perpetually twinkling, turns toward the king and queen.
"Do you, King Charles and Queen Julia of Twilight, give your daughter into the service of our Lord, God Almighty?"
"We do."
"Do you promise to raise her in a Christian home?"
"We do."
"May you hold the child out?"
The infant royal gazes up in awe at the jovial man with the bald head.
The priest dipped his fingers in the sacred holy water.
"The sprinkling represents our princess's faith and her security of a place in heaven."
He pulled his hand out of the water and, with a quick flick of the wrist, sent the droplets onto the princess.
The king, queen, and princess (cradled to her mother's bosom once more) turned to face the people filling the isles.
With a booming voice that sent echoes down the cathedral, the priest announced what a certain blue eyed little girl sitting in the isle had been waiting for.
"May I introduce to you, Princess Lilith of Twilight!"
I don't really know how this goes. I've never seen a christening, real or otherwise. The point of this segment is to introduce the princess, with her name, to the characters and the readers (and to God, which is the point of a christening). Bear with me. My church only does a baby dedication. Not an infant baptism or a sprinkling.
Consequently, other than the sprinkling part, this is how a dedication goes.
Note: In the Catholic Church, it really is important to be infant baptized (sprinkled). They believe that infants that aren't (miscarriage, stillborn, abortion, etc.) don't go to Heaven. Other Christians, like Protestants, believe that if the child (being too young to sin or not even born yet) goes to Heaven.
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A Few Years Later
There is a land that can only be reached through about a month of travel over mountain and through desert and ocean. In a land where the air was thick with spices. A land where people dressed and acted different from you and I. A land with exotic customs. A land with exotic foods. A land with exotic stories.
Of dragons.
High above the ordinary folk, past the snow-capped peaks of majestic mountains, there was a village.
Secluded.
Mysterious.
Legendary.
And in one of the grandest buildings in that village, a man sat hunched over a scroll.
He was by no means young. His beard, already reaching his chest, was gray and bizarrely curled at the end. He was short and gray. His hair, what little there was on his head, had been pulled back into a long braid that trailed down his back. From thin lips came confusing sounds that, if repeated to the speaker, would make no more sense than it does for anyone else.
"Humph... mumble... snort..."
The faint sounds of writing with an ink pot and stylus provided for a perfect peaceful harmony.
"Mumble..."
Scritch
"Snort..."
Clink, Tap
"Humph..."
Scratch
So absorbed was he, that he didn't notice a young boy sliding the door open.
He was a young child, maybe 12 or so, with empty emerald eyes and hair the color of seaweed.
Most children would have been at home or with friends. Most boys would never have come into a rich man's home to serve its master. Most boys would be pondering what it would be like to be a pirate or a grand general. But not him. He was not a normal boy. He was the one chosen to be the apprentice of the great house's master. He was special. He was a diamond in the rough. He had to give up his home and friends. He had no family. No one would have wanted him other than the master. He respected the master as a grandfather, and the old magi treated him as his long lost kin. For this he was grateful. It is for these things he served.
"Master?"
"Mumble... humph."
"Master?"
With a final "Snort", the old man turned his head to acknowledge his intruder.
"Well? What is it boy? Haven't you ever been told to speak up?"
The boy's trained expression didn't break.
"You have a letter, Master."
A long slender arm attached to a slender hand extended toward the elder. In it was a parchment scroll. A shimmering scarlet ribbon caught the light and seemed to dance with it.
"Let me see..."
Calloused hands reached out for the paper. Grasping it, he turned back around to face his desk.
"Thank you. Wait outside for my answer."
"Yes, Master." The boy bowed and left the room, sliding the door behind him.
Once the lad was out of earshot, the master sighed and shook his head before focusing on the message. "You'll be a great man one day, Shang."
There was a snap as the seal broke. The elder's brown eyes scanned the text. For once, the world seemed entirely void of all sound. His dark orbs widened in surprise, narrowed, and then went back to the top - as if to find something that had been missed. Finding it, they darted downward and continued reading. Finally finished, he hastily groped for the wooden cane beside him. He turned around and hobbled to the door as quickly as physically possible. Despite the stick, he was quite quick and nimble.
"Shang! Shang! Where are you boy?!"
He also had a good pair of lungs, though his eyesight could use improvement. For in his haste to find Shang, he had managed to walk directly into his target.
"Oh, there you are. What are you looking at me like that for? Close your mouth, you're not a fish. Hurry and pack our bags, boy! We're going to Twilight!"
There was the sound of much scampering and shouting. Of many doors opening and closing. Of people giving rapid-fire orders in a strange choppy language. Of rustling fabrics of tight uniformal dress. Of the clacks of tiny wooden shoes.
The echoing roar of a dragon rumbled through the skies.
And then the room was silent once more.
It's supposed to be China.
Originally, I was planning for this section to much shorter. But I couldn't help myself.
Shang wasn't supposed to be there at first either. I based him off of two characters in two Disney films. Try to guess who the two characters are. It should be easy if you look back and squint a little.
For anyone who noticed, Jiglong is the same one from Zexal. This is after Mizar/Misael dies after betraying him (in the abridged version as the real version is too violent). But centuries before Zexal takes place.
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It was spring in Twilight.
The world was a blanket of green and bespotted with various pinpricks of color. Bees hummed as they went about their business, attending to one blossom and then another. Birds had started building their nests. Stags were fighting over does.
All was right with the world.
In the garden, sheltered by tall gray stone walls, was a little girl. No more than three.
Her hair, already down to her waist, was midnight black and strait as silk. It was simply tied with two locks pulled from the front to meet at the back of her head, only to be tied with a red bow. In fact, red seemed to be a prominent color in her attire. Her dress was the color of a cherry. The sleeves, in the fashion of the day, had been sliced to allow the loose white cloth underneath to be seen. Red rope-like things were sewn above the child's shoulders, along the sides of the square neckline. The rope idea continued as a white belt below her corset. Her skin was unnaturally pale.
A cardinal settled on the black bark of a branch a few feet from her. It began its cheery song.
The girl turned in an instant, her white teeth gleamed and her rosy smile grew. Bright red eyes glistened in the sunlight.
"Birdie!"
The girl's joyful cry interrupted his sonnet. His intelligent black eyes turned toward the child. She moved closer and he hopped anxiously on the branch, and then took flight.
The child's lip quivered, "Birdie, come back."
But she didn't get to cry.
"Your Highness, this man is here to see you."
The girl turned to the source of the sound, her unhappiness forgotten.
There was a maid, her features unimportant in light of her new interests.
The man was old with a cane and white beard. The rest of his figure was covered by a brown coat with a large hood, which reached his mid-calf. He seemed to be wearing pants, as the hem could be seen, under which he had an odd flare for socks with sandals.
There was also a boy, his face schooled into a blank expression. His hair was green and reached his jaw. His eyes were green slits. His outfit was mainly green and white: baggy green pants, a pale green shirt under a white shirt, and a just as pale green belt tied around his waist.
In short, both were strange and exotic. And thus, terribly interesting.
"Princess Lilith," the man bowed. He seemed to speak for both of them.
The child nodded her pretty little head. The man's eyes softened.
How can... she's so gentle...
"How would you like to play a game with me and Shang?"
"Okay."
Her voice is full of childish innocence...
And so they played. Tag, hopscotch, hide-and-go-seek, catch. Any game she wanted to show them.
Shang was quick and competitive. He allowed his mask to crack into a smile.
Jiglong, that was his name, was just as nimble and fast as his apprentice.
Lilith had an amazing time.
It was over all too soon.
Jiglong was panting. Shang was sweating, despite the mask being returned in all its former glory. Lilith was positively glowing.
"Lilith, I have something to give you."
Jiglong reached into his robe, and pulled out something black.
It was a dagger, complete with sheath and belt. The handle was encrusted with rubies but otherwise was of twisting black metal, not of this world but likely crafted by the fae. The metal was some sort of alien black substance. The leather of the belt was black. The sheath, made of the same material and color, had cut-out to display the single large ruby embedded into the hilt. It was not just for show, but was a weapon fit for a king.
Lilith gently accepted the gift. Her pale fingers slid the sword from the covering, displaying for all to see what lie beneath.
The blade was sharp to a 't'. Its blackness was not like the rest of the weapon. It almost looked like polished onyx.
"Pretty..."
Her hand reached out to touch the glistening surface, only to be snatched away by a larger hand.
"Don't touch it," Shang removed his hand.
The little girl gazed imploringly at Jiglong, "Why?"
The old man looked down, "Because it's made of a dragon scale."
"Why?"
"Because it's dangerous. Dragon scales, when forged into weaponry, are indestructible and deadly. One cut can kill the most savage beast, excepting a dragon of course, in the worst way possible. It burns like hellfire, and won't heal."
The lass looked down at her 'weapon of immense power'. "Oh," the girl looked up in confusion, "Why?"
Jiglong sighed in exasperation and bent down to her level.
"You'll find out when you're older." He reached into his coat once more, "How about a deal, hm?"
The girl nodded eagerly.
Jiglong handed her a folded letter. Not that it helped any now; she didn't know how to read.
"This contains all you need to know. One day, you'll be able to read it, and when you can do that… you can start deciding if you want to contact me or not. I live far away…"
The words faded into a private whisper.
Two figures approached the garden.
The woman was wearing a violet gown with a white wimple. The gold embroidery flourished around her breast. Her smiling lips were painted a bright red. She was still young, but a queen should not wear too revealing an outfit. Let alone a wife and mother.
The world did not do any favors to King Charles. His eyes may have wrinkles in the corners, but his once stark black hair now had the faintest graying. He was a good king and an even better father and husband. He wore green.
"Mommy, Papa! Look what Jiglong gave me!"
Lilith presented her new prize to surprised parents.
The queen was first to recover.
"Jiglong, may we speak to you for a moment?"
Jiglong bowed and followed the two in their promenade. Shang took it upon himself to occupy Lilith with more games, and duly presented her with the ball.
"A bit of catch, milady?"
"Yes, please."
A loud outburst came from somewhere down the hall. Too far to make out every detail, but not enough to hide such a sound from the ears of the children and give pause to play. It was shrill and feminine, and all the words came out in short bursts of loud anger.
"What… meaning of this… to give a child a dagger... I don't care… here! I don't care if anyone… of me!"
The voices faded, evidently the queen was being reasoned with by her already anxious lord.
Shang turned to Lilith, whose eyes were wide in shock.
"Shall we begin, milady?"
A few minutes later and in another part of the castle, a very different conversation was taking place.
"It's dangerous… the girl needs to be kept under lock and key at all times. Limit the staff. No one must ever have a good connection to her. She must –
Never.
Leave.
That tower."
I enjoy making fun of King Charles. They do say opposites attract, and the king and queen are no exception. Like most medieval royalty, they were part of an arranged marriage; but had come to love each other anyway.
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12 Years Later
It was winter once more.
The world was a canvas of nothingness. The trees were barren. The grass was a course yellow. Bears were hibernating, as were the groundhogs and other creatures. Homes, sparsely scattered across the countryside, were made of wood and mortar with thatched straw for roofs. They were quaint with the smoke billowing from their chimneys. Short walls, both of wood and stone, lay along-side dirt roads. Rolling hills made it difficult to track were one road or wall went. Far off in the distance, a mountain range obscured any further view.
The world was grey.
High above all else, was a tall tower, adjacent to the massive walls of a castle. It was plain with a peaked cone-shaped roof. The only distinct feature was the high arched window at the very top of the stone column. Red curtains billowed in the wind. A slender pale hand parted the fabric to reveal the tower's sole inhabitant.
Her hair was as black as her dress. A braid wound around her brow. Nestled in the midnight vines was a single silver crown, which was embedded with a single bloodstone at the center. About her slim neck lay a thin silver necklace with rubies. The neckline of her gown was scooped, displaying the tops of her modest breast. The black sleeves flared out at the elbow; under which lay another sleeve, tight and red as blood and hooked her middle finger. The dress, which was black, had been styled so that it was cinched around her small waist to a point and then flared around her as the sleeves had. The front of the skirt was sliced from the bottom of the corset and all the way down as to display the blood red silk underneath. Around said corset was a belt of black leather, on which was hung a very recognizable weapon.
Blood red irises gazed at the scene with a mixture of boredom and contempt. Her hands placed firmly on the sides of the window.
"Why must I be kept here? Away from everyone?"
A bird, a cardinal, landed on the windowsill and gazed curiously up at her. Her gaze landed on it, beseechingly.
"Won't you fly away too?"
The cardinal gave a brief twitter in response.
"It's no fun, to be kept in here like a caged bird. But you wouldn't know that, would you Mr. Cardinal. You've only ever known what it is to be free. No one would ever cage a cardinal."
The bird tweeted and hopped about, head tilting, its eyes never leaving her.
The princess gave a sigh, "Why you ask? Because cardinals such as yourself are terribly common. And no one would cage a bird that anyone can hear at any time they step outside. There's nothing to gain from it."
The girl's eyes lighted on her small winged friend.
"Would you like to come inside? I know it's not much, but it's all I have. I can share my lunch with you. I've tried asking the maids that arrive to give me my meals, but they always become frightened and leave in a hurry."
She stepped aside to allow the beast to enter on its own. The bird gave one hop closer to the warm interior before lifting its wings and obeying. The Princess stepped inside, allowing the curtains to close on their own.
"You don't know why that is, do you Birdie?"
She walked over to a wooden table and sat on the ornately carved chair. The room was cozy and lit by the fire's orange glow.
In addition to the chair and table, which were on a red carpet in the center of the room, there were a few other furnishings. In the corner, covered by a canopy, was a single bed covered with a red comforter. It was fit for a princess, despite being so small. It lay directly next to the fireplace, which was a stone feature that was separate from the wall. It had a wooden mantle which held a number of doodads that the tower's prisoner had accumulated over the years. Over the mantle hung a wooden crucifix. On the opposite side of the fireplace was a dresser, full of dresses that would never see the light of day. Beside it was the only door in the tower, locked. On the side of the wall opposite the fireplace, was a vanity and a changing screen and a bookshelf. These shelves contained books of all kinds and colors, bottles filled with flowers, aging scrolls, and one vase that was normally filled with flowers. Above them were paintings crafted due to a talented girl's boredom and a single portrait of a young couple. The man was dressed in green to match his eyes. His long black hair caressed his shoulder. The woman wore a light purple dress and had chestnut hair. Both wore heavy crowns. The vanity sat under a large round mirror. On it lay two things: a wash basin and a hairbrush.
At the foot of the bed was a chest carved out of a reddish wood.
Thus the makeup of the entire room was as such starting with the fireplace and moving counterclockwise: dresser, door, bookshelf, vanity, screen, window, chest, and bed.
The princess took a loaf of bread and scrapped the seeds off the bottom and into a saucer. She then located fresh fruit, cut up an apple, and placed a slice onto the saucer as well. Finally, she placed the dish before her guest, who had settled in opposite of her.
"I'm Lilith, by the way."
Her eyes followed the bird's movements as he ate the seeds she provided. She did not eat anything herself.
"It's no fair, you get to be free. Why can't I? I'm the princess, yet I haven't been out of this tower since I was three. Sometimes, I wonder if anyone even remembers there is a Princess Lilith of Twilight."
Somewhere else in the countryside, another cardinal took up song.
Well, that's it for now!
I hope you liked this! I know I had fun making it! Please review! Be nice!
Merry Christmas! Have a Happy New Year!
Noelle Anna-Marie