Title: All That Glitters Is Not Gold
Rating: T for language
Disclaimer: I have no rights to any persons real or imagined, no television shows, no books, basically nothing. You want to sue me the best thing I have is a bed, but try to take that and I'll cut a bitch, it's super comfy.
Summary: Since What Happened to Frederick? was on, I decided to write about how Frederick turned to gold.
Word Count: Total: 499
Abigail reached across the slight distance between them to rest her arm on Frederick's armored forearm. "What is it, my love?" asked the princess, looking around to find what distracted her intended. But she spotted nothing in the woods around them. "The forest is quiet, what has you preoccupied."
Fingers tapping on the helm hanging from the saddle horn, Frederick looked to the blonde beauty at his side. "Therein lies the rub, it shouldn't be this quiet. No birds, no small animals. It's quiet." Casting his gaze once more around the peaceful stretch of woods, Frederick leaned towards his beloved. "Get off the horse," he commanded.
Usually Abigail would protest a command from any but her father, the tone in his voice and the concern in his green eyes held off her protests. Abigail dismounted but made no complaints about the hem of her dress dragging in the dirt as she watched Frederick slide from his mount as well.
"Stay down," Frederick reminded before setting off to the head of the caravan and the king. "Your Majesty, there is something not quite right. The forest is too quiet. In my father's lands that usually means bandits in the woods."
Expecting to be dismissed, Frederick was surprised when the impressively mustached guard captain agreed. "Exactly as I said, my King."
Midas looked between the two men before nodding. "Make preparations, quietly. Arm the men, guard my daughter, and move out."
Frederick felt vindicated as he moved back to Abigail's side. "You can remount, but please hide when things start," Frederick asked his lady, putting the helm onto his head but leaving the visor open.
It was less than a mile before the band of ragged bandits fell on the company. Abigail dropped between the two horses and hid while the clamor rang in the small valley.
When the screams of bandits and her father's men quieted, Frederick slipped under his mount's neck. "Abigail, the battle is done. Come, we should speak with your father."
To her delight, Midas was whole and unharmed. Abigail rushed to his side, hugging him carefully remembering his cursed hand.
Looking up and down the line of the caravan, Frederick gave the father and daughter a moment of privacy. It was that keen gaze which spotted the assailant. With a wordless cry the knight drew his sword and rushed to guard his king and his beloved.
Three things happened in quick succession: Frederick knocked Abigail and the King back, the would-be assassin fired his arrow, and the arrow struck home. The meatle dimpled with the impact but ricocheted off.
The other knights reacted, a hair less quickly, ending the threat of the archer then hauling the king and princess to their feet.
The sight that met them caused Abigail to scream. Where they had stood only minutes before, now a golden statue had taken up residence there. "Frederick! No, Frederick, no!" screamed the princess, clutching at the arm of the statue which her beloved had become.
Sorry if this is sad and awful, the sad I can't help and the awful comes from quickly churning this out.
