Marth's dream

Marth strode down a long, arched passage in what looked like a castle. His fancy boots clicked as he walked, and he tossed his cape over his shoulder irritably. 'The nerve of that tyrant!' Marth glowered to himself when he remembered the cause of his ire. His father, the king, was forcing Marth to find a wife himself by tonight's masquerade ball or he would be married to the princess Zelda of Germany. This in itself wasn't such a bad thing until Marth remembered they didn't get along and she was in love with another. So, Marth did not want to marry one who would never love him back. The only other condition to Marth's mission was that the lady had to be approved by the king himself after Marth announces his decision. All of his attempts and searches for a suitable companion so far had been in vain, and the blue-haired prince had about given up. He came to a large wooden door and stopped in front of it. He pounded on it, his irrational clear. A pretty lady in waiting with blonde hair opened it. When she saw who it was, instead of the customary curtsy, she smirked.

"Look who it is. Little "Prince Charming", as the peasants have started calling you."

Marth sighed, rubbing his face, his anger evaporating at his friend's gentle teasing "Hello Samus."

She laughed. "You look beat." Samus may be the only person allowed to speak to the Prince that way.

Marth responded tiredly, "I feel beat. I'm here to see Elice."

Samus nodded, opening the door for him to come in, her previous smile replaced by a bit of concern.

Marth walked in slowly, pushing past a curtain. "Hello sister."

A beautiful young lady with long blue hair turned from the book she was reading to look at her guest. "Martha!" Marth sighed again, a headache creeping up on him.

"Why are you calling me that?" Elice grinned mischievously, before chuckling. "I still laugh to myself when I remember your first meeting with the Danish Court. They thought your name was Martha."

Samus burst out laughing from her spot behind Marth, fond of the memory.

Marth blushed. "It was a simple mistake!" The girls snickered together. Marth didn't bother correcting them, knowing that their jokes were just their way of cheering him up. Samus had been Elice's maid since their birth 21 years ago. Elice had impeccable manners in public, but hid a snarky, upbeat side she only showed to those she was close to. Samus was a bold, brash young lady who also served as Elice's bodyguard. No one could tame her sharp tongue, (a/n: *snicker*) causing the Queen to make her promise to be quiet when she's in public and has the urge to make an inappropriate comment. The two were Marth's confidants and lifelong companions. Samus went back to tidying the room and Elice calmed her laughter. "What do you need little brother? I assume you're feeling conflicted." Elice's tone was sympathetic and kind. Marth unconsciously smoothed back his hair as he thought about how to phrase his frustration. Marth is a calm, polite man with diplomatic skills coming out of his ass. He was good at charming ladies, but was unfortunately pretty picky and hard to please. (Comes with being a prince) The young man yearned for a calm, reasonable, strong, intelligent lady who posesses immense social skill and he can talk to about anything. "I have... my doubts about the ball tonight."

Elice rolled her eys. "You don't have to watch your words with us."

"Then I think this is the most pointless, stupid idea ever. I won't even be able to see the women's faces!"

"Did you consider that the fact that you can't see their faces will make your conversations with each one more meaningful?"

Marth paused thoughtfully. "First off, we'll be dancing. Second off, you can tell a lot from a person's body language and expressions."

Samus nodded in the background. "That's true, but Elice still brings up a valid point. Anyone can attend, and no one is allowed to tell you their rank, so you won't be able to let politics influence your decision."

Elice dramatically waved towards Samus, her expression screaming,

"See? See?" Marth chuckled a bit. "You really don't think I'll marry for love, huh?"

Elice gently put down her book and walked up to Marth to pat his cheek. "You'll do what you think is right."

Marth shook his head. "I don't know if you're trying to convince me to marry for love or not."

Elice burst out laughing. "You are a prince, so unfortunately, politics will come into play, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to follow your heart."

Samus remarked behind them, "Love doesn't exsist in politics."

Now it was Marth's turn to give Elice a smug grin. She rolled her eyes, turning to Samus. "Don't encourage him!" She turned back to Marth with a thoughtful expression. She spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I think you should find some ladies that appeal to you. They so capture your interest, in one way or another, that you wouldn't mind spending a long time with them. After getting to know them better, marry the one you can see yourself spending your life with happily. You do have to marry. There's no way around that."

Marth was quiet. "Yes. I do." He smiled a bit. "Thanks sister. Farewell both of you. I shall see you tonight." Samus walked with him to the door, opening it and gently ruffling his hair in a way that only she and Elice were allowed to. He waved and strode off, deep in thought.

He passed by a lady in the hall and when she curtsied low, Marth stopped, recognizing her. "There is no need for such formality, Miss Hella." The blonde lifted her head with a serene smile and a gaze shining with mischief.

"Your majesty, you are too kind to me. I must follow etiquette and give you the respect you deserve."

The two often had this over dramatic argument in the halls. He would be modest, she would be humble, and they would continue with their over-polite posturing until one of them started to laugh. Marth had noticed the pretty maid a few months ago. She had been a new worker, but diligent and polite. At first, he didn't think much of her, finding her dull and submissive. Then he heard her engaged in a fiery argument with a stable hand. She was furious, words flying of her tongue to pierce into the boy like arrows. Apparently the older boy had been cruelly taunting a friend of hers, and Hella could take no more. The boy slunk off disgruntledly after his scolding, indignant that a younger girl had chewed him out. Marth became a bit concerned at how easily he gave up, and asked Elice if Samus could keep an eye on the situation, concerned that the boy would attempt to take revenge. And of course, Marth was right.

One of Samus's young assistants who had been taking over for Samus while she was away, raced up to him a few days later, panicked because Hella was being surrounded by a group of men with impure intentions. Marth's blood ran cold. He raced down the stairs after sending the boy to fetch the guards. When he saw what they were doing to her, he darted forward and beat them soundly, knocking them away. He stepped in front of her and covered the poor girl with his cloak, calming her with a kind gaze. But when he turned to face the men, his gaze was burning with fury. He shook with barely contained rage, ready to rip off the attackers throats. Luckily for them, the guards came to take them away, and Marth promptly carried the girl to his private doctor. He worried about her mental well-being, and, understandably, for a while Hella spoke very little and disliked the presence of people, although, she never seemed to mind when Marth visited, her mood always brightening at the site of him. After her time recovering, he made her one of his personal maids. Marth now found himself fascinated by the enigmatic girl who seemed to hide so many sides of herself.

She would often try to fend off conversation, claiming that she was too low to talk to a prince and that she had much to do, but Marth would persist in battering her with questions and little quips until she finally gave up and responded. She showed an intelligent side then. When Marth asked a particularly deep or meaningful question, she would pause to consider her answer carefully, always pleasantly surprising him with thoughtful answers. They would discuss anything, from politics to the anatomy of chickens. He found himself enjoying their conversations immensely. He also noticed she would enjoy their talks too, unconsciously opening up with him, getting far more involved in the conversation then she intended to every time. At times their banter would turn silly and petty, the two so involved in the discussion and so stubborn about their respective sides in an argument that they would start calling each other creatively insulting names. When that happened, Marth took sadistic joy in watching her mortified expressions when it dawned on her that she was calling the Prince things like "arrogant bat" and "stupid rooster". She would freeze, trail of awkwardly, apologize, and promptly escape. The prince was proud to say he considered them close friends, so it brightened his day even more to see the petite blonde. After some polite conversation, she rushed off, with genuine errands to run, and Marth was sad to see her go.

Now Marth was not a dense person and thought denial was a pointless and silly practice. So yes, he had already realized his feelings for the girl a few weeks ago. He was neither shocked nor angry at the revelation, only a bit dismayed. Now he had to look for a wife while realizing that the only women he'll ever love will always be his loyal servant and nothing else. He almost hoped she would attend the ball so he could ask for her hand and confess the love he realized he had been harboring the day she had told him off for "being stupid enough to get injured in a sword fight".

Marth had been challenged to a duel with Lord Roy, a brash and friendly noble who had gotten a bit too cocky. He challenged the crown Prince himself, and Marth had no choice but to teach the man some manners. To Roy's credit, he was a fierce fighter and injured Marth by stabbing him in the side, but Marth's speed and technique were impeccable. Marth won and was rushed off to the doctor. Next he saw Hella, he dad teased her about being worried and she retailiated with embarrassment and a bit of scolding. In retaliation, he made a scathing comment that ended up making Marth sound like a petulant child. It was something in the realms of "Oh yes, we wouldn't want the Crown Prince dying." To which Hella replied, "I wouldn't want Marth to die." He could only stare at her in shock. No one ever spoke to Marth with genuine concern for his well-being as a person, not as the crown prince, (except for his sister and Samus.) Hella always seemed to care about how he felt, forcing him to tell her the truth when he was sad, mad or afraid. They both brought the best out of each other.

But Marth was a Prince, and not much of a dreamer. He knew that his father would never approve of marriage to a maid. So while Marth did love Hella, he also loved his country and wanted to be a strong ruler of it one day, so, running away was out of the question. And besides, he didn't even know if she liked him back! He sighed before going off to prepare for the ball.

Author's Note:

This is chapter one of my first Super Smash story! Yay! *streamers and confetti* I was actually going to just make this into a short one-shot, until the plot-bunnies took over my brain and became... This... THING. So, Happy Birthday VeganVampy! You now have a multi-chaptered story! Sorry it came so late, but I've been very busy! Love you!