Author's note: This story wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out, and it has quite the life of its own. Final warning to turn back if a story about Sofia's first period might make you squickish, but I promise there' s much more to it than that, and I don't go into gory detail. If you don't want to do the math, Sofia is 16. Please read & review.
Sofia sat straight up in bed. She was drenched in sweat, her sheets were tangled tightly around her from tossing and turning, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath no matter how she struggled for air. She scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, but as soon as she was upright, she felt a gush from between her legs.
Running to the bathroom, the young princess was horrified to see blood on her nightgown and undergarments. Except for being so scared that she was shaking, and a dull pain in her stomach, she felt alright, so she had no way to determine the cause. She cleaned herself up as well as she could, changed into a fresh gown, stuffed handkerchiefs into her undergarments, and rushed to the little hole in her wall that Clover used to sneak into her room.
"I wish to be small." Sofia told her pink amulet, and soon she was no taller than a wee sprite. She easily slipped through the door, returning to her normal size, and rushed through the castle's hidden corridors, knowing them so well after eight years of traveling them that she could navigate them in her sleep. Soon, she was climbing the ladder under the trap door that led to the quarters of the only person she would dream of going to with a major problem like this.
Hoisting herself up through the hole in the floor, Sofia closed the wooden trap quietly behind her. She took a deep breath, mentally pleading with her best friend to be awake. He often kept late hours, but with no idea what time it was, she couldn't be sure he wasn't in bed, yet.
Gently, she gave a knock on the door, standing still and listening for as long as her frazzled nerves would allow. She heard no stirring within the sorcerer's tower. Trying the knob proved useless, so she retrieved the spare key from the hidden compartment in the toe of the green gargoyle perched next to the entrance.
She turned the key in the lock and opened the heavy wooden door that separated her friend's tower from the rest of the palace. Once she was inside, she quietly closed the door behind her. The workshop was lit only by the pale moonlight streaming through the windows, and she relied partly on her memory to get her through the room and down the stairs to his bedroom, a room he often told her was forbidden, even though he never did more than scold her slightly for intruding on the space. For a brief period in her life she was allowed, even welcomed there, but all of that changed over time, the sorcerer forcing her to keep a physical distance from him as she grew into a teenager.
Making her way into the room, she called to him. When he wasn't working late, he was often laying in bed trying hard to sleep, having been a long time victim of insomnia, so it was possible that he would answer her.
"Mr Ceedric. Are you awake?" She held her breath, listening for signs of movement, or, better yet, a reply. None came. Covering her eyes, she approached the bed. For all the time she had known him, Cedric despised bedclothes. She never saw anything inappropriate on the occasions she woke him, but the knowledge that under his heavy black blanket, the sorcerer was wearing only the black gloves that never left his hands made her flush. I can't think about that, now. I need him to help me. Sofia reminded herself.
The princess stretched her arm out at full length, peeking between her fingers just enough to pinpoint his bare shoulder in the soft light and poke him lightly on it. The skin beneath her finger was soft and smooth, and the contact caused her breath to catch. She recovered and gave him another poke.
"Mr Ceedric, please wake up." She said, knowing it would take more than that to do the job. When the sorcerer did sleep, he slept like the dead. With a sigh, she scooted closer, wrapping her hand around his thin shoulder and giving it a shake.
"Wake up. I need you!" She hissed out. He muttered something that wasn't quite words, but otherwise stayed asleep. She reached her other hand out and wrapped her slender fingers around his other shoulder and shook him harder. Nothing happened for a moment, and then his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her toward him, eyes still closed.
"Mr Ceedric!" Sofia's stunned voiced snapped him out of his sleep, and he pulled his arm away quickly, shooting upright in bed and adjusting his blankets to assure he was covered properly. Sure that his modesty was uncompromised, he turned to study the intruder, eyes narrowed and features set as sternly as possible.
"What is the rule about being in my room, little one?" He scolded, emphasizing each word as he spoke.
"I'm sorry, but I just-" She tried to explain.
"The rule." He repeated impatiently, his gaze seeming to get more intense by the second.
"No going in your room without permission. But-" She knew the rule, and she did follow it. Mostly. Well, at least half the time. He raised his hand to stop her once she finished the part he wanted to hear.
"Go wait in my workshop, I'll be out shortly." He said. She knew he had every right to be cross with her, but this was urgent.
"But I need your help. Quickly." She persisted. He shook his head, a frown rapidly becoming discernable on his face.
"Workshop. Now. Go!" He insisted. Understanding that she wasn't going to be heard until he was ready, she turned and huffed off into the other room, arms folded in annoyance, heavy footsteps much too close to stomping to be appropriate for a girl her age. As she reached the stairs, his voice rang out again.
"And close the blasted door, Sofia!" Returning to the entrance to his chambers, she slammed the door shut before retreating loudly up the steps to the main floor of the tower. She stood next to Cedric's work table, fuming at the way he dismissed her, even though she knew better than to enter his room in the first place.
"Stop sulking, Sofia." His voice came, the first sound alerting her of his presence. Sofia spun around to see him making his way up the last couple of stairs to his workshop, pants on and tugging his shirt into place.
"Lightupicus." He spoke, waving his wand towards the far wall of the room. The sconces flared high before settling on a low light that wouldn't sting his tired eyes too much.
"Honestly, Princess, is it really that hard to abide by such a simple request?" He asked, trying hard to mask his amusement at the sight of the teenaged princess pouting like a small child in the middle of his workshop. Sofia often acted differently in his workshop than she ever would elsewhere, secure in her freedom from societal demands within his tower. Cedric didn't mind, glad that she felt so comfortable around him to be herself. He handed her a spare robe, which she quickly pulled around herself.
"I need your help. It's urgent." She explained, eyes pleading with him to fix whatever was wrong with her. His demeanor softened.
"What's the problem, little one?" He asked gently. Sofia didn't know what came over her, but all of the sudden she was crying, hiccupping out an explanation about waking suddenly from a terrible nightmare, most of the details now forgotten except for the terror the dream left screaming within her.
"And I'm bleeding. I don't know why, I don't think I'm injured, but there's so much of it. I need a healing spell, Mr Ceedric, please." She sobbed, begging the sorcerer to heal her mystery ailment. At the mention of blood, his eyes grew wide, and he rushed to close the distance between them. His eyes ran over her form, trying to find the source of the problem. I knew he would help me! Sofia told herself, the thought soothing her a bit.
"Where are you bleeding?" He asked, unable to find the source. At the realization that she would have to tell him exactly where she was bleeding from for him to fix the problem, a heat spread down from her ears and across her face.
"It's my... I-I can't tell you, exactly." She stammered, the last words scarcely even a whisper. His brows furrowed in confusion, trying to puzzle out exactly what her non answer meant. Soon they raised in shock, as it dawned on him just what had happened.
"I can lighten... that. Make it easier. But there's no cure for it but time, Sofia." He moved past her to fetch a book from his large shelf, avoiding eye contact as he passed. Over the last year or so, there'd been hints that this was coming, her hips widened, the top of her bodice began to fill out, but he pointedly ignored the obvious changes. After all, he had no business noticing such things.
"Why is there no cure? What's happening? Am I cursed again?" At her questions, he spun on his heels, speechlessly examining the girl in shock. His reaction only further worried the anxious princess.
"Is it that bad, Mr Ceedric?" She continued, moving closer to try and catch a glimpse of the tome in front of him. He snapped it shut before she could read anything. If she didn't know, yet, she certainly couldn't find out about it from cold, clinical definitions in a book.
"Has no one explained this to you, child?" He asked in disbelief. Sofia simply shook her head, still looking to Cedric very much like a frightened animal. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Some tea and a chat it is, then." He decided, gesturing for her to sit at his table. He walked over to his supply cabinet and started pulling out the things he knew would help Sofia. Chasteberry, raspberry leaves, tumeric, ginger, shepard's purse, and assam black tea leaves. He brewed the ingredients in his cast iron cauldron, using his kettle to make himself a cup of darjeerling at the same time. When both were finished, he poured them into his old tea cups and set them down on the table, sinking into his own chair and rubbing his face wearily. He stopped in the middle of the motion and glanced over his fingertips at the perfectly silent princess.
"I dare say, Sofia, I don't think you've ever gone this long without speaking in your life." It was an attempt at humor, but it did nothing to cheer the princess.
"It's despicable, letting you go into this unprepared. What's that school teaching you? And for that matter, why the devil didn't your mother-" He muttered, stopping abruptly upon accidentally mentioning the queen. He supposed Sofia was too young for those types of conversations when her mother passed, and he cursed himself for letting the accusation that she was negligent slip through his lips.
"I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to..." Was all he could think to say. Sofia nodded and lifted the tea he prepared to her face, sniffing before giving a look of disgust.
"You're sure I'm meant to drink this?" She asked, sure that nothing with an odor like that was meant to be ingested.
"I'm told it tastes better than it smells." He offered, absentmindedly blowing steam off of his own tea. Sofia did the same before taking a tentative sip. She sputtered loudly, nearly upending the cup in her haste to return it to the table. Despite the atmosphere, Cedric chuckled at the girl's reaction.
"You said it would taste good!" Sofia complained.
"I said it tastes better than it smells. It's hardly the same thing." He reminded her. He was rewarded for his trickery with a hint of a smile from the princess. You could never take anything for granted with Cedric, and it was one of the things she adored about him.
"Will you tell me..." She ventured, and he gestured to her cup.
"First be a good girl and drink up, then I'll explain everything. On your word that you didn't hear it from me, of course." He instructed. He suspected the king would have his head for discussing such things with his teenaged daughter, but he couldn't send her back to her room alone in that state of near panic. She was his friend, his apprentice, and she deserved so much better than that.
He watched her carefully as she valiantly drank her tea, pinching her nose to help with the taste, and stopping now and then to make more disgusted faces and pained groans. On a few occasions he fought to suppress laughter at the princess's exaggerated display.
"There. Now please tell me what's going on?" She asked, presenting her empty tea cup for approval. Cedric gave a sigh, not sure how to breech the sensitive subject with her.
"What happened to you is something that happens to every girl. I suppose it's not considered proper to discuss, and that's why no one warned you, but it is perfectly normal, Sofia. It means you've become a woman." Cedric explained. Sofia quirked an eyebrow at him.
"But wasn't I already a woman?" She asked, not grasping his meaning. Cedric chuckled.
"You were a girl. Now, you're all grown up. Well, maybe not all, but much closer to it." When she continued to look at him expectantly, he sank into his chair, a frustrated groan escaping him. He was trying to skirt around the heart of the subject, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was going to have to spell it out for her. He sat up and locked eyes with her.
"It means... you can create children, Sofia." He added gently. Her expression, a mixture of terror and sorrow, was enough to break even his hardened heart.
"But I don't want to. Make it go away, Mr Ceedric, please." She begged. Soon, she was crying again, her body heaving with great sobs. Cedric stood from his chair so fast that he very nearly flipped the table over, and soon he was at the girl's side, arms wrapped protectively around her as she cried into his shirt.
"Hush, little one. You're okay." He tried his best to reassure her, but she was inconsolable. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head and rubbed her back lovingly, not sure what else to do but hold her until she cried herself out.
"It's okay to be frightened, Sofia, but it's a wonderful thing. It usually doesn't happen like that, I promise." He soothed. Truth be told, he did know spells that would solve her problem, but they were all permanent, the choice would forever be taken from her, and he considered her much too young to make such a lasting decision. You forgave me my other secrets, please understand this one if you discover it. He prayed as he continued to shush the petite girl in his arms.
"Please don't make me leave. Not tonight." She begged, her voice small and hoarse from crying.
"Sofia, we've talked about this, you're far too old for-" He started to repeat a lecture he made so often over the years that he could recite it in his sleep, but she wasn't having it.
"No. You've been telling me I'm too old for five years, and I don't care about any of it. I just need... I can't go back there tonight. Please!" Cedric could feel his resolve faltering.
There was a period of time after her mother's death where he had braved the king's wrath and allowed such impropriety. Sofia clung to him like a lifeline in her time of grief, and even the great King Roland II didn't dare to attempt to sever their bond. But eventually, his patience wore thin, Cedric ending up on the receiving end of his temper. The men finally agreed that Cedric would slowly distance himself from Sofia, saving her from rumors of scandal, although Cedric knew it was him and not idle gossip that worried the king. He went along with it anyways, coward that he was.
Now she was here, pleading with him to ignore the boundaries he worked so hard to set, and he wasn't quite sure what to do. After debating with himself for what seemed like ages, he stood and headed for the stairs. When he heard no footsteps following him, he turned back to Sofia.
"I haven't got all night, child. Are you coming or aren't you?" He asked with feined annoyance. Sofia scrambled from her chair and rushed to close the distance between them.