Full summary: Ensemble!Dark!Fic. The kingdom of Zemlya on the continent of Aslonia has long been ruled by the cruel Braginski regime. One man sets out on a journey to topple the rulers, sending shockwaves throughout the Aslonian peninsula. But how can the actions of one vagabond possibly save an oppressed kingdom? Told from the eyes of everyone affected: from the Prince himself to his forced bride to the people ready to rebel.

Warnings: explicit and mentioned sex, gore, general darkness, noncon, slash, fem!slash, torture sequences

A/N:

Tori: Hey guys, I'm Tori-Colour-Bastia and I'd like to be the first to welcome you to a little world called Aslonia.

Neon: Hello there! I'm Neon-Tinged-Disaster, and I'd like to be the first one to welcome you to our story, but as Tori beat me to it I'll be the second.

Tori: For the most part, odd numbered chapters will be written by me and evens will be written by Neon. This is a fantasy and the major pairings should become apparent over time. Most of them are pretty common, but there are some rarepairs have been tossed in for plot convenience and because they're adorable! ^_^ And sorry we put Alfred and Arthur as the characters here. They're not in this chapter, but they'll be important later, I swear! Also, there's not ensemble option.

Neon: We hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter One

I know I could be hanged for this. Or worse.

Francis took the stage, keeping a keen eye on the people in front of him. This town, Sona-ler, was small, with a mostly human population. In the crowd, if he squinted he could see a small set of fae among them. Brownies, mostly, as well as faeries, but definitely ones who would receive his message well. He focused and began speaking.

"I know many eccentrics have stood before you in the past, spouting out what seems to be romanticised lies and half truths. I am not one of these eccentrics. What I speak is the truth and I know you are well aware of all this. This world is racially divided. The high fae make our choices for us and if we step one toe out of line they'll have our head. A human, or faerie, or brownie steals a loaf of bread and is put to death. If a high fae were to resort to stealing, such an act would be hand-waved away as if it were nothing, yet we die. I am the type of human the nobles would love to make an example of. I'm risking my life for the future of our collective races. We need to show them that they can no longer push us around just because of our birth. So, are you going to put up with being pushed around by nobles who wouldn't care whether you live or die? Or are you going to join me in our fight for freedom? Join us and make Zemlya a better place for our progeny. Every man and woman is worth something. Don't be afraid because you think it won't matter. Even if we fail, we'll show them that we can be reckoned with and we won't just stand here and take the abuse that's being thrown at us."

This was met with cheers from the audience. Francis could guess these people's stories just by looking at them. Poor, tired, dirty, nearly emaciated. He could understand them, in a way. After being alerted to the suffering around him, Francis had left his comfortable life in favour of one on the road, rallying support for the people he'd seen abused and pushed around. He never travel with more than a few pieces of gold on him and never stayed in one town for more than a day or two. It was for his own safety, as getting caught or mugged was never a good idea.

After his speech, Francis head out to the local bar, a typical practice for him. He was greeted by a few of his fellow revolutionaries that he met upon arriving. They looked at him with envy, as they had never tried leaving their own town. By now, Francis had earned a reputation as a vagabond spreading messages of rebellion. He took a seat in the middle of all of them, nine or ten men, including the owner, an earth faerie, who ordered him some wine.

"Français, nice speech. I see why people join the cause because of you," one of the men said. They had been introduced, but Francis never bothered to remember his name. It was Mason or Markus or something.

"Yeah. That's why the Blue Bloods would love my head," the revolutionary replied, jokingly.

The men laughed.

"Oui. And I bet he'd like to have mine for serving you my finest," the bar owner cut in.

This prompted more raucous laughter from the men. Francis took a sip from his wine, nearly making a face at the bitterness. It was foul and watered-down to the point where he questioned the alcohol content. If this was the finest wine he had, he was almost scared to try the cheapest. He downed it anyway, just to be polite. As he took in the room, he couldn't help but notice a girl sitting on the opposite end of the tavern. Perhaps she just recognised him from before, but he could feel her eyes staring at him. She was beautiful, though. If he was still in his old life, he would have flirted with her, taken her home, and did what he did best. But, he was a man with a mission and beautiful women could wait until after he toppled the corrupt government.

The joking and good times continued until the sound of hoofbeats echoed throughout the tavern. All eyes landed on Francis.

Blue Bloods. He was already well-known and if they saw him here, all the revolutionaries would face the gallows for sure.

"Français follow me, I have a secret tunnel you can escape from," the bar owner urged.

Francis allowed himself to be virtually dragged by the arm to the basement. After a barrel was pushed out of the way, an expansive tunnel that lead away from the town was revealed.

"The crystals light up as you go further into the tunnel and then vanish behind you. It's my own design," the bar owner explained.

Francis looked at him with wide, thankful eyes. "Merci. Not many would go to these lengths to protect me."

The earth faerie laughed. "This resistance is nothing without you. We should be thanking you for all your help, Français."

Francis smiled and blew a kiss to the bar owner before running through the tunnel. The crystals allowed him to maneuver fairly flawlessly, though the bar owner lied about them vanishing. If he looked back, he could see some of the lights still glowing a few footsteps away. He may have been hallucinating due to the glowing crystals, but he could have sworn he heard footsteps. As soon as he exited the tunnel, Francis found himself facing a dense forest. If no one had followed him, there was a slim chance of the Blue Bloods finding him now. He took a short rest before moving through the forest.

"Monsieur Français?" a feminine voice asked.

Francis whipped his head around to see the girl from the bar. She was even more beautiful up close, with big blue eyes and beautiful blonde hair that was pulled back with a piece of twine, revealing rounded human ears as opposed to the fae's pointed ones. This stranger stood tall and proud and didn't seem to fear him.

"Mademoiselle, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"I wish to join you. I support you cause and I think you could use some help," she explained. "My name is Jeanne."

"I'm afraid I can't condone that. It is a dangerous world for someone like me, having to escape from town every time I hear hoofbeats. I can't imagine having to be responsible for another person. You should go home."

The revolutionary continued walking, ignoring the girl behind him. There was no way she'd make it one day with him.

"Monsieur, people would listen to a woman more." She responded, catching up to him. "Women hear men ramble on about how unfair life is at least twice a month on that stage. If your new government would have equal rights for women, have a woman speak. You'll get more followers that way, as well. I also have more ideas. And I swear I can make it on my own, I'm a fighter."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Fine. If you can go through the next town without getting hurt, I'll let you come along with me. Now, let's hear some of those ideas."

"Well," Jeanne started, "to start, we need a way of showing that people support us so we can tell the loyal from the possibly traitorous."

"What were you thinking?" he asked. This woman was persistent, so he may as well hear her out.

"A pin. To be worn above the heart. We can decide on the design later if you wish, but it would be a good idea."

Francis had to admit, it was a clever idea. So far, he had been nearly caught twice because of tip offs from his so-called allies. With the pins, he could tell who'd help him and who'd report him to the high fae.

"Anything else?"

"An anthem. Some to call the people to arms. We can sing it at demonstrations and wave flags. I'll write it myself if I have to. It should be simple and easy to pick up on so people can sing it."

Francis raised his eyebrows. Perhaps this woman was more useful than he first thought. She seemed to have good ideas and share in his love of freedom. Perhaps traveling with her wouldn't be so bad after all.