A/N: this can be read as a stand-alone, but it is recommended that you have at least read "the six black swans".

The barefoot princess

A thedasian fairy tale

...

While her mother might disagree, princess Lyssa Trevelyan was not the impulsive sort. What she was, was bloody fed up with her backwards parents who refused to accept that what's between your legs has very little to do with who you are. So when she met a handsome soldier who not only understood, but said she was the prettiest princess in the world, of course she decided that she was going to marry him.

Krem was a bit confused when the pretty princess insisted on running away with him, but in his life he had learnt to hold on to good things when you managed to find one. So, off he was with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. It proved to be the best decision he'd ever made; she couldn't cook and her sense of direction was non-existent, but her eyes were a bright, cheery hazel-brown and she had a mane of chestnut curls that seemed to be resistant to all types of ribbons. She made him think of a particularly enthusiastic chipmunk. In addition, she turned out to know things that made his toes curl as he howled her name and she fit just right against him when they slept.

They were travelling to visit a friend of hers, some girl called Josephine Montilyet, when they found themselves in a deep dark forest. The night grew dark and cold, and they huddled close together for warmth. With Lyssa's head tucked under his chin and her arms around his waist, Krem fell into an uneasy sleep.

When he woke in the morning, he was alone. The only sign that Lyssa had ever been there were her slippers, dirty and worn and highly unsuitable for journeying. Somehow, the sight of those sorry slippers made his heart stutter and it was with an increasing sense of panic that Krem began to search the camp, then the nearby woods. Surely she had not decided she'd had enough of a poor soldier and abandoned him? No, not his Lyssa. And yet, even though he searched all day, he found no trace of her apart from her shoes.
Eventually he realised that if he wanted to find Lyssa he had to go and actively search for her beyond the woods. So he put her shoes in his pocket and started walking, not knowing where he was going but determined to do something.

It was several days before he came upon a small camp fire. Exhausted and heartsore, he sank down upon a log and warmed his aching feet, hoping whoever had made the fire would prove benevolent.
Eventually, an old woman came through the woods and sat down opposite him. Krem immediately spring to his feet, drawing his sword.

"Calm yourself, young man" said the old woman. "I am no more a threat to you than you are to me."

Hesitating, Krem slowly re-sheathed his sword and sat down again.
"What draws you this deeply into the woods, boy?" She asked.
"My princess vanished from me in the dead of night."
"Did she have bare, dirty feet and chestnut curls, making you think of a particularly enthusiastic chipmunk?"
"Yes! That is my Lyssa! Have you seen her?"
"Indeed I have. You may purchase my aid for the hair on your head." It seemed like an odd request, but Krem took a knife and shaved his short hair. It felt strange to be fully bald, but if it helped him find Lyssa...

The old woman took the offering, clearly pleased.
"Your princess was abducted by a wicked magister, who lives in a castle nearby. He transformed into a wind and stole her as she slept by your side."
Krem paled. He had plenty of experience with magisters, both good and wicked. They were powerful and fickle, and cared little for anyone but themselves.
"Calm, young soldier. He wants to make your princess his bride, but she will not have him unless he gives her a gown made of sun beams, a veil made of moonlight and a crown made of the stars in the sky. And not even he can conjure those things."
"But..." Krem began, but would not finish. Surely the magister could simply... Take his Lyssa, whether she would have him or not?

"You fear for her safety, and rightly so. But your princess is not helpless, boy. She is clever and strong, and she has learnt to fight." That was true; the first time Krem had seen Lyssa, she had bested several knights in tourney. She had been absolutely gorgeous.
"Now" said the old woman and handed him a cloth sack,
"Inside you will find the three items she demands. The rest, I leave to you. For your princess' sake, I hope you have a good head on your shoulders."
Krem thanked the old woman, and the next morning he headed to the magisters castle.

Arriving at the gates, he sat down and pulled out the dress that shone as if woven from sunbeams. The people in the castle were awed at its beauty, and word quickly reached the magister who hurried out to see it for himself.
"What do you want for the gown?" The magister demanded. "Name your price!"
"I want one night in Lyssa Trevelyan's bed chamber" Krem replied. If he could just get in to see her, surely he would find a way to free her!
The magister was not happy, but Krem would not take any other payment no matter how he cajoled or threatened. Eventually, he gave in.

That night, Krem was brought to the chamber where Lyssa slept, and so that he would not be able to defile her his hands were tied behind his back and he was forced to kneel by the bed. From his position, he could perfectly see her sweet face as she slept. There were tear tracks on her pale cheeks, and her sleep fitful. But no matter how he called her name, begged her to wake or pleaded his eternal love, she would not wake. Unbeknownst to poor Krem, the magister had given Lyssa a sleeping potion and she had not heard a single word. When he was forced from the chamber before she woke, he despaired.

But heartsore or not, Krem was determined to find a way to his princess. So pushing his despair down he once more sat down outside the castle. This time, from his sack he pulled a magnificent bridal veil. The fine stitches were as pale as moon beams, and the people in the castle marvelled at its beauty. Surely, they said, this veil would make their lord's young bride stop weeping where she sat in her window. Krem felt both joy and sorrow at hearing this; knowing his Lyssa was weeping was a dagger to his heart, but knowing she wept for him gave him hope.

Just as the day before, word of the beautiful veil of moonbeams reached the magister and he hurried down to buy it.
"What do you want for the gown?" The magister demanded. "Name your price!"
"I want one night in Lyssa Trevelyan's bed chamber" Krem replied. Surely this night he would be able to wake her! The magister was not happy, but Krem would not take any other payment no matter how he cajoled or threatened. Eventually, he gave in.

That night, Krem was once more brought to the chamber where Lyssa slept. His hands bound, he knelt on the hard stone floor and once more he spent the night calling her name, begging her to wake and pleading his eternal love. But alas, again the magister had given Lyssa a sleeping potion and she had not heard a single word. When he was once more forced from the chamber before she woke, it felt as if his heart fled his body to remain with her.

In despair, Krem sat down by the entrance to the castle and pulled out the crown that was his last chance to see Lyssa. And once more, the people stopped and marvelled at its beauty. Surely, it would dry the tears falling unendingly from the eyes of their lord's bride. And soon enough, the magister himself came down to see it for himself.
"What do you want for the crown?" The magister demanded. "Name your price!"
"I want one night in Lyssa Trevelyan's bed chamber" Krem replied, his tone hopeless. At least he would get to bid her goodbye.
The magister was not happy, but Krem would not take any other payment no matter how he cajoled or threatened. Eventually, he gave in.

And so, for the third time Krem was brought to Lyssa's bedside and made to kneel, his hands tied. But this night, he did not beg or plead. Instead, he found himself shedding tears, asking her forgiveness for his failure.
"I swore I'd protect you" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry. It breaks my heart to know all I will have of you is your shoes."
But Krem did not know that Lyssa had overheard the servants speak of the man who had sold the mages the impossible treasures she had asked for in exchange for a night by her side. Wanting to see for herself who he was, hoping against hope it was her soldier, she had only pretended to drink the potion and then pretended to be asleep. But hearing the sorrow in Krem's voice she could bear the subterfuge no longer and sat up, falling around his neck and covering his damp cheeks with kisses.
"My love" she whispered, "lie down with me. I have a plan for how we will be freed. The magister has a weak heart, so this is what we will do..." And she whispered her plan into his ear even as her clever fingers found their way under his clothes. The rest of the night, she took him apart over and over again, taking great pleasure from the fact that he could not touch her.

In the morning, Krem was found kneeling with his hands bound, watching Lyssa as she lay sleeping. And if he was sore and aching from her embrace and clever fingers, and she was flushed and slightly disheveled, none was any the wiser.

At high noon, the bride was taken to the castle chantry. In her gown, veil and crown she shone so brightly it almost hurt to look at her. But, her appearance was slightly marred by her bare feet.

As she stood before the chantry sister that was to wed her to the wicked magister, Lyssa announced that she could not possibly be married as she was; what woman was made a wife with bare feet? But any shoes would not do. No, she would only have the shoes she wore when she fell asleep in the forest, safe in her true love's arms. And she would only marry the man who possessed those shoes. As everyone looked expectantly at the magister, he began to sweat. The silence grew more and more uncomfortable, until someone called,
"Give the girl back her shoes!" The crowd joined in the call, but the magister stood helpless. He did not have the shoes. He'd never seen any shoes! She had been barefoot when he stole her.

The crowd was growing agitated, their demands for the magister to produce the shoes growing more insistent. Lyssa only smiled, patient, victorious. Finally, the magister yelled that she was lying; she had not had any shoes.
"But she did!" Krem called as he forced his way through the crowd. "A pair of slippers, worn out and useless for walking! They were all I had left after you stole her!"
And he pulled the dirty shoes from his pocket. When the magister saw the shoes, he got so angry his weak heart stopped right then and he fell dead to the floor. But Lyssa was laughing as she put on the slippers.
"Now I have the groom I want!" She cried joyously and the crowd cheered.

The chantry sister smiled benevolently at Krem and Lyssa, announced them husband and wife and blessed them both.

And the people named Krem and Lyssa their lord and lady, for the old lord magister had been most wicked and cruel.

And so they lived together in the castle, and no one thought it was at all strange how lord Krem almost precisely nine months into his marriage gave birth to a lovely little princess, chalking it up to wayward magic left after the magister had died. And if the King and Queen gave each other conspiratorial smiles over little princess Briony's crib, well, no one cared.

And so they loved happily ever after.