An Odd Beginning
by Alanna
"Morwenia!" A voice called into the depths of Morwen's thoughts. "Princess Morwenia, for the last time, please perform the Yunal Bow as you would to a Cathayian ambassador!"
The princess sighed and did so, pushing back her hair.
"Very good, Morwenia. Alkia?"
Princess Morwenia of Langao sighed. Protocol was such a boring class, she nearly went to sleep just from entering the room it took place in.l As a matter of fact, all her classes at Woodshire School for Princesses were boring. Protocol, she thought, was probably the absolute worst, although it was in close competition with Managing Servants.
"Now, class, we will learn the best way to agree without promising anything...."
~*~*~
"Princess Morwenia! Put on your PROPER attire immediately and get rid of those rags!" Mistress Svenson yelled the next day. "Really, sometimes I think we will need to POUND proper behavior into your very HEAD!"
"Yes, mistress," Morwen answered dutifully, shedding her loose silk robes and donning a satin dress, heavily embroidered and studded with jewels. She knew from experience that arguing that her robes were more comfortable (and practical), that she would only soil the dress, and asking why the nice-looking silk robes were so horrid, would only get her nowhere.
"And get rid of that cat!" Svenson barked when Morwen emerged, fully dressed. "Do something with your hair and have Kali polish on your shoes by dinner! Ten minutes!"
"All right, all right," Morwen moaned, but too softly for the mistress to hear. Princess Sarra Svenson of Lijkerkwailt was teacher of protocol. Lijkerkwailt must be a very proper country, Mowen thought as she waited for a servant to pile up her here. Proper and VERY boring.
All the teachers at Woodshire School for Princesses had once been princesses (but not heirs) themselves in small countries. The headmisstress had been Queen Amalie XIII of Libala by marriage, but when her husband died and her daughter Ballinda succeded her, she founded a school for princesses. The original place of learning had been in her home, but she had to move it to Woodshire Castle when enrollment doubled, then tripled, over the years.
Morwenia was the youngest of twelve children in the Collinst royal family -- far enough away from heir to the throne that she had basically no chance of ruling, but still royal enough to need to know protocol. And be proper all the time, she thought. Morwen didn't exactly see it that way. Abandoning the royal speech of "we" and "ours", and preferring "Morwen" to her real name, she was "more like a commoner than a princess" Queen Alinette XI had said when she packed Morwenia off to Woodshire.
~*~*~
"I just can't stand it anymore," Morwen confided in her favorite teacher, Mistress Kalia. "All the endless protocol lessons, and -- oh!" She sploshed a bit of her hot soychung lapsang tea over the side of her cup. "Sorry, I burned myself."
"Wait here." Kalia muttered something and a cabinet popped open.
"I didn't know that was there," Morwen said, surprised. She thought that she knew all of Kalia's quarters by heart.
"Good," Kalia answered, finding what she was looking for and putting some on Morwen's hand. "You're not supposed to."
"Oh! That stings! What's in it? The cabinet, not the salve."
"Oh, just -- things." Kalia gave a mysterious smile. "I used to live in the Enchanted Forest, you know -- Daystar III was my brother. And you can't live in the Enchanted Forest without dabbling, at least, in magic. My cousin was a witch. She went to Calling Witchery Academy. It's about a mile from here, you probably passed it on the way."
"Magic?" Morwen's voice rose. "Can you teach me?"
"Morwen, I deal in languages, not sorcery. I'm afraid not --"
"Oh, please, mistress, PLEASE! It's so BORING here -- why did you EVER leave the Enchanted Forest?" Morwen felt a tear drip down her nose. "Please. It's so polite and stuffy and I'm tired of protocol and embroidery and my throat hurts from practicing dragon and giant protocol --" Mowren was ashamed of herself for sobbing, but she couldn't help it. It was as if every emotion over the past year had been stored up, and the storeroom was forced open.
"None of this nonsense, please!" Kalia said briskly. "Now, you're sick of it here -- what are you going to do about that?" She rushed on without waiting for an answer. "First, change out of those clothes. No one, and I mean no one, can think in something like that." She glanced with distaste at the salmon-pink dress.
"Mistress Svenson made me wear it," Morwen said sulkily. "The mistresses won't let me wear my robes."
"Well, I'm a mistress, and I say you can. Also, it's ten o'clock. They all were in bed at nine. Go!"
Morwen went. She returned in a moment's time with her loose robes on, her hair in a bun, and reasonably calm.
"So," said Kalia. "What are we going to do about this?"
"I could run away," Morwen answered immediately. She'd been toying with the idea for some time.
"Too messy. You need something more discreet." Kalia snapped her fingers. "I've got it! Academy of Witchery! Leave a note. You were --" She stuck her pinkie out elegantly.
"Called away in the night," Morwen said, a glint in her eye. "It could work!"
"Your family, though --"
"They won't care. They have eleven other princesses and princes to take care of. As long as no one dies or gets married, I won't be missed."
"Pack your bags," Kalia ordered. "We're on our way."
"We? Our?" Morwen was puzzled.
"I'm going home."
~*~*~
Twenty minutes later, at eleven o'clock, Kalina had cast a spell of invisibility over them both, and the two of them were running along the road, hair loose, laughing hysterically. About halfway, Morwen grabbed the broom she'd taken from the kitchens ("I'm going to be a witch, after all") and sat on it. The last thing she had expected, happened: the broom began to rise.
"Fun, but not very practical," she remarked once her feet were on terra firma once again.
"No," agreed Kalia, out of breat. "Aha. Calling." A huge stone fotress rose above them.
Morwen gulped, then she mounted her broom and flew up, Kalia running along behind.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she yelled, hugging Kalia. "Thank you! Gralis! Delian!"
"I'll never forget you. Good luck!"
~*~*~
Three weeks later, Morwen stared out the window during an especially boring class on magical theory. A month ago, she wouldn't have beleived that any place could insist on properness and formalities more than Woodshire. Calling was proof that something could.
"Straighten your hat, Morwen," the instructor droned. Morwen made a face at him behind his back.
~*~*~
Miss Kalina, she wrote at the end of the semester, I don't know what to do. I don't want to get a graduate degree... I'm NOT going back to Woodshire. Whot should I do?
Kalina's reply was almost instantaneous. Come up here! There's a cottage that I've been using... I think it will suit you perfectly. Come to the Mountains of Morning -- I'm enclosing a magical feather for the journey. I'll meet you there...
And the rest, as they say, is history.
A/N: Well, my first (THE first) Enchanted Forest fic. I'm rather proud of it. I scribbled it in June, at a hotel in Seattle. I finally got an Enchanted Forest category up! Please review!