Der Erlkӧnig
Author's Note: So, first things first. I own very little of this story. The original is actually a German poem, which my German teacher read to us in class last week, giving me this idea. Secondly, this is a very loose adaptation of the original "Der Erlkӧnig," so if you haven't read the poem, I'd find a translation of it, for it's actually quite fascinating. Thirdly, there's character death, and it certainly strays from the FE plot. Lastly, it's set about a year after the end of PoR.
The darkness was enshrouding them nearly completely, with the only light being provided by his dying lantern. The moon, the stars, and all other lights had left them long ago, and now Geoffrey had to rely only on the small flame to dodge branch after branch that the forest threw at him. Count Bastian had said many a time before that the forest was alive at this time of night, but Geoffrey was a sensible man; he believed none of this supernatural nonsense, even now, as he could have sworn to Ashera that the trees spoke to him.
Nonsense. It was all foolish nonsense – a sage's tale to scare the young children. Geoffrey was no longer a child; he was the commander of the Royal Knights, and he would not believe the musings of a mad man, no matter if the count was his close friend. The only out of place sounds, Geoffrey reasoned, were the clopping of the horses' hooves, beating upon the dry, hardened earth of the forest as he and the queen feverishly made their way back to Castle Crimea in the dead of night.
He felt more than heard the rustling of leaves from somewhere behind him, sending a chill up his spine. Glancing back, however, the knight was met only by the sight of his queen, holding tight to the reins of the unfamiliar horse. Wishing to travel inconspicuously on their trip to visit Nephenee and Brom in the countryside, Geoffrey had decided they would have to leave Elincia's Pegasus in Melior. The queen was no fan of this plan, but she knew it was necessary for their safe travel. Thus, she found herself atop such an alien beast that she could not imagine how she had ever calmly ridden a horse before. Even now, after nearly an entire day of riding this mare, Elincia understood its resentment of her, and she would willingly admit that the feeling was mutual.
Geoffrey sighed. He was becoming paranoid now, and he should have known that the sound was nothing more than Elincia's horse. It was not a chill of fear, he decided, but a chill from the wind. With his cloak wrapped around the queen, Geoffrey himself wore only the thin armor of a knight, and this autumn weather did nothing to help his situation. But, Geoffrey was not a weakling; he was a knight, and this weather was not too much for him to handle. The queen was warm, and that was all that mattered to her foster brother.
As he ducked to avoid a low branch, Geoffrey heard a whimper. Elincia's whimper. Fear took hold of him as he thought that the branch must have hit her, but he knew that it was still too high to touch the queen. Turning, he saw the queen's face had gone pale. "Your Highness?" he queried, his voice a mixture of concern and fear. There came no answer, aside from her head tilting more in his direction. Her eyes were devoid of all the cheer they usually held, and Geoffrey abruptly stopped his horse. "My Queen? Elincia?"
"G-Geoffrey," she stammered, her eyes focusing on a spot in the nearby trees. Geoffrey shined his lantern toward the trees, but nothing out of the ordinary met his eyes – trees, branches, leaves, a bird or two. He saw nothing that could explain his queen's behavior.
"Your Highness," he began at length, "have you seen something?"
Elincia turned back toward him, shaking her emerald locks. "No, no, it's nothing. I'm just…tired. I'm imagining things – I must be," she concluded.
Geoffrey frowned. "If you think there is something in the trees, I can have a look," he suggested, already beginning to dismount his own stallion. Elincia shook her head, however, and he settled back into the saddle.
"No, it isn't necessary," she assured him. "It couldn't have been anything but my imagination. King Ashnard is dead."
Her knight froze. His queen could not have seen the Mad King; there wasn't a chance, but this did not help to settle his feeling of uneasiness. "Your Highness, King Ashnard is dead; I saw for myself," he managed, focusing again on the edge of the forest where she had previously looked. "General Ike and King Tibarn made sure that the Mad King never again would breathe."
"I know," she stated simply, her eyes running once again over where she thought she had spotted the man. "I know he's dead, so I must just be very tired. We should get back to the castle, Geoffrey. I'm sure you're also very tired, as you've had to be my escort the entire day, and I doubt your work will be done even when we reach the castle." Geoffrey nodded, knowing that he did in fact have to stable the horses and get reports from both his sister and his second in command, Kieran. "Let us continue."
Geoffrey urged his horse to resume its former path, and Elincia's mare followed right behind, seemingly irritated that it had been previously stopped due to the inane musings of the young Crimean queen. His own horse, however, seemed completely oblivious to the fact that its rider was on edge, for the stallion continually stomped the leaves and kicked rocks at trees whenever he came across one. After what seemed like hours but was only a matter of minutes, Geoffrey once again relaxed. Elincia had only seen a wisp of the rising fog that was beginning to envelope the forest and riders. It was only the mist.
My dear Elincia, come, go with me! Once we happened to be enemies, fighting over a land dear to the both of us, but come now and once again shall we test our swordplay. The gardens of my home you shall roam, finding garments of gold at your feet.
Elincia shrieked, causing Geoffrey's horse to spin around even before his master gave any sort of signal. The queen of Crimea had paled to an even lighter shade, if that were even possible. Geoffrey's eyes darted around, but nothing did he find. Not a bird, not a wolf, and certainly not a human was around. "Geoffrey, Geoffrey!" she sobbed. "Do you not hear what he promises? You've had to have heard it."
Geoffrey tightly gripped his lance. "I've heard nothing," he told her, once again scanning the surrounding woods. He must have missed something. Somewhere, someone was lurking, tormenting his queen. "Who is promising you things?"
"King Ashnard," she breathed, and it took more than a moment for Geoffrey to register the name.
"Elincia, it is as I've told you: the Mad King is dead," he sighed exasperatedly. He could not fathom why his queen would play such a trick on him, nor did he think she was up to it, but he knew with certainty that Ashnard was dead. "If I may speak plainly, Milady, Bastian's stories have made you paranoid. He's made you believe that something supernatural lurks in these woods, so every little thing you hear or see is he whom you fear most – Ashnard. You heard only the wind and saw only the fog, My Queen."
Elincia nodded somewhat reluctantly. "Of course," she muttered. "It's only the wind; you're right, Geoffrey. I'm so sorry; I just need rest."
Geoffrey nodded, glad to move past this. Though he would never admit it, he wished that it had been Lucia or Count Bastian who had traveled with the queen today, for he knew of no better way to combat his queen's fears than by moving faster. Yes, by moving faster, they would be much closer to the castle, and much sooner out of these woods.
Do you want to come with me, pretty queen? My servants will wait on you finely. These laguz will bend to your every whim; the beasts will carry your throne, and the heron princess will sing you to sleep.
Elincia stopped her horse abruptly, and Geoffrey mirrored the gesture. Turning in the saddle, he found his liege once again looking about the woods. "Geoffrey, and do you not see the heron he offers? I…this cannot be," the queen murmured.
"I do see, my queen. It is only the trees with their falling leaves that you see. There is no heron with shedding feathers; it is a tree, as you saw the fog and heard the wind earlier," Geoffrey managed, still looking about the forest in attempts to convince himself that she did only see the trees.
"The trees…yes, you must be right, Geoffrey," she decided at last. "Please, do not bother with my imagination any longer. We should soon be out of the woods, and then I will clearly see that there has been nothing following us the whole time. The Mad King is dead," she added more to herself than her knight as they began to lead their horses once again toward the outskirts of the forest.
I love you, Queen Elincia. You entice me, and I can think of nothing but how your soldiers defeated me a year prior. But if you will not willingly join me, then by force may you find yourself in my home.
"Geoffrey!" she exclaimed, clutching her arm. "King Ashnard has grabbed me; I've felt it. He wishes some harm upon me, and I am nothing but helpless," she cried.
Geoffrey surprised himself in his ability to move, for he thought that surely his fear would immobilize him. His eyes met the sight of his queen, clutching her arm, but he saw little more. The branches of the trees swung wildly, and that is when the realization came to him. "Elincia, did the branch scratch your arm? Perhaps you weren't paying attention and didn't move quickly enough out of the way?" Swinging his leg around to the other side of his horse, the man began to dismount, but his queen held up her hand.
"I'm sure you're right, Geoffrey," the Crimean queen concluded. "I don't believe it's bleeding, and the pain has gone. If you must, you can check it when we leave the forest," she gestured toward the opening only a few yards away. "I doubt you would be able to see anything in this forest anyway."
Geoffrey nodded and tried to remount his horse as calmly as possible, but the horror had already set in. There was something eerily terrifying about what he once found to be a perfectly normal forest, and the knight could barely hide the fact that he wished for nothing more than to reach the castle as soon as possible. Now, this was only a mere few minutes away, but each passing moment gave Geoffrey a greater sense of dread.
As light from the castle met his eyes, Geoffrey gave a sigh of relief. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he found that the dirt path leading toward the castle's gates had never been more welcome to him, even at the very end of the Mad King's War. He swiftly led his stallion off to the side of the path, halting the animal in the dew-encrusted grassland that surrounded the Crimean palace. Behind him, he heard that Elincia's horse, too, had stopped, and so he quickly dismounted, reaching in his saddlebags for a vulnerary and bandage, in case they were necessary.
Turning on his heel, Geoffrey stopped dead in his tracks. There, on the grass, Elincia was sprawled out facedown, as if resting; her horse, none the happier, impatiently stamped its feet next to the queen, waiting for its rider to remount and resume the path toward the castle. Falling to his knees next to his foster sister, Geoffrey was at a complete loss. It wasn't until he rolled the queen over that he came to realize it with a sense of dread, however. Elincia ceased to breathe. Frantically, Geoffrey looked about him, his eyes scanning the field and forest for any sign of life. There, at the edge of the forest, Geoffrey saw a kinglike figure slipping back into the trees. Ashnard. In the next instant, a woman appeared, following the Mad King into the forest. His eyes snapping back to the queen before him, Geoffrey glanced at the bruised arm. There was no cut, no blood; only the bruise signified that anything had happened to the queen's frail arm. On the other hand, there were so many signs that confirmed Geoffrey's greatest fear. Elincia's chest no longer rose and fell, and her wrist contained no pulse. Those golden-brown eyes stared straight ahead, with an angelic smile resting on her face. There was no doubt about it, Geoffrey realized. The queen of Crimea was dead.