Welp, here's my shot at a multi-chapter fanfiction, one that I don't expect to be very long. For once in my life, can I finish one? I guess we'll see. I should mention that I was awfully inspired by the new Aquaman movie, but give it a chance even if you don't like half-breed fish guys. I can promise that it'll probably be worth the read :) Don't forget to leave a review if you feel like it, and thank you to those who already left reviews on my one-shots, you guys are so sweet. (Note: Leon, if you can't tell, is my made-up name for the Vampire King from the Stakes series)
Content Warning: Mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, and some characters have been changed to fit the story
Rough, grotesquely-calloused fingers caressed her arms from behind. She stiffened at the contact, but reminded herself that keeping a low profile meant making sure he didn't sense how utterly appalled she was by his very touch. Fangs lowered down to her exposed neck, teasing at the pale, vulnerable skin. It took everything in her not to shudder in disgust, or recoil from his form. Her cover was the darkness of the room, and for once she was not annoyed by the little fire in the wall, spitting sparks at her. At least he couldn't see her features well in the dim lighting.
"Ash-"
"King Ash," he corrected.
"Of course, my king. I just…" He looked on expectantly, one hand running fingers slowly through her long, raven locks, and the other resting on her waistline. "Don't you think this is a bit much? This war? I mean, if we proceed… Innocent people will die." She strained to keep the fear from her voice at the same time as pretending to be mature and submissive.
A deep, throaty chuckle erupted before he stepped away, eyeing her with amusement.
"Oh, Marceline. Since when do you care for the innocent? We are evil, and we will prevail. Wicked wins, every time. Don't you agree?"
"Of course."
"Good. Now that your childishly empathetic fantasies are out of the way, I do believe we have a counsel to attend. Your father is waiting."
The King of Vampires spun and made his way to the doors of the random castle room. Seriously, how many rooms with fireplaces and tables for tea did one need? But, of course, symbols of status were on the top list of priorities for stuck up, bloodsucking royals. Marceline followed him quite like a lap dog, which is exactly what she felt like, before joining their arms like mature sovereigns, engaged and professional. They exited together as if they were so in love, as if all was well.
The rulers of lesser regions were already down the hall, seated and waiting in the counsel room, including her own father.
"Father," she greeted the man coldly. She was still enraged about his arranging of a marriage between herself and Ash. Apparently, the marriage was meant for the good of the people, and "uniting the kingdoms" was the best option. It was weeks before she finally convinced herself to stop planning suicides that were meant to get her out of being the repulsive Ash's betrothed. She would never bow to her father, or Ash for that matter, by the action of taking her own life. She would not be so cowardly.
Once king of the Nightosphere Kingdom, Hunson Abadeer gave up his power to the most privileged of princes, where he become but a mere figure of congress. Perhaps he expected weeks of vacationing and trips, hunting animals just for the hell of watching the life of their souls fade from their eyes. But being alive meant still having an opinion, one that the new king found relevant.
"Marceline." Her father nodded at the two seemingly getting along. She shook herself from Ash's grip, just to spite her father's approval. The rest of the royal court looked about awkwardly, clearly as uncomfortable about the war- and the current family issues- as she.
Ash cleared his throat.
"Fellows of royal blood and service. This meeting is convened to discuss our ever-wavering control over the people of candy. It is my proposition that we finally take action. We must declare official war." A smirk pulled at his lips, almost imperceptibly, as murmurs spread. Marceline might have despised him, but she knew his tactics. He would get what he wanted out of these old trolls, one way or another.
"Your highness," Ash's personal counselor, Leon, interjected. "If I may, don't you think it wiser to first approach non-violent options?"
"No, I don't," said Ash, finally irritated at the recurring prospect. "For years now, they have meddled with the natural way. It is as so: vampires suck blood, and with humans virtually extinct, the candy people are the only source of it. Because of their strengthening restrictions, many of our own have already converted to feasting on livestock. And dare I even mention the ones who only suck the red color? Peppers, berries, and melons! Imagine that. Our lands are being taken over by farms!" Several heads began nodding in agreement, others shuddering in disgust at the very thought.
"Cloth, even! They are all savages!" someone at the far side of the table erupted.
Wrong, thought Marceline. We are the savages, not the little sugar people.
Another retired member named Hierophant, once a great ruler, added, "And by installing those candy guardians, they challenge our strength. They are insulting us, and just as easily asking for us to raid." More nods of agreement.
"You've got to be an actual idiot if that's your justification for mass murder," Marceline spat. Everyone turned to look at her in bewilderment. True, she was legally a part of the meeting, but as a female, nobody really expected her to participate. It was the unspoken consensus that her fiancé would be one voice for the both of them.
"Princess of the Nightosphere," another irrelevant royal member addressed. "What is it that you expect from us? The daughter of the most ruthless-" Hunson grinned at this despite his daughter's words of treachery- "ruler, speaking on behalf of the savages?" That word again. Did they even know the definition of it? He continued, "You should really hold your tongue here." There were hums of approval and the men went on discussing preparations for war.
Suddenly Marceline's skin was on fire with hatred. Perhaps she'd subconsciously known all along that she was unlike these vampires, but in that very moment, there was a realization within that the necessary precautions had to be taken. Even if it took all her will to betray all she'd known. Even if this could very well be the suicide she had finally talked herself out of.
When dawn arrived, and all who were sensible were in their rooms with thick curtains shielding them from the hiss of sunlight, she would slip out of her designated quarters. She'd feel the freedom of the breeze and the comfort of the sky, watching over her. Until then, she'd have to wait for this ridiculous meeting to be over.
When it finally was over, she was the first to escape the room, or more accurately, escape the collective wrath of both Hunson Abadeer and Ash. Once safe in her room, she began plotting. And doubts did arise. What if she was crazy and desensitized to the love of vampire culture? What if the candy people actually were rotten savages that only the hand of evil, with its great eternal power, could suppress? What if she was the monster, and just couldn't see it yet?
No. These wandering thoughts were ridiculous. She was going to save lives. She'd already saved lives, being one of the few to convert to a diet of red color. If Ash knew that, he'd probably have her head, or perhaps not ever speak to her again. But then again, that last one didn't sound too bad.
The fear then arose of how long could she claim stomachaches and diet restrictions when he offered to take her hunting in the night? How long could she keep going out alone for a "hunt", only to hide in the trees and pray that no other vampire stumbled upon her, wondering, why was the princess not joined in the chase for stray candy people?
Marcy shook her head. This needed to be done. If she didn't stop the king and his advancements of war, then many would pay. Even their own kind.
Rummaging around in abandoned drawers, she searched for loose articles to clothe her on her journey and protect her skin from frying up in the daylight. There were endless socks, and a pair of long gloves- she could use that. There were thick leggings, made specially for blocking sun rays. She found more socks, a gigantic floppy sunhat, more socks, and- how could someone have so many socks? Oh, there were thigh-high boots, ruby red in color, very convenient in purpose. She decided on everything but the countless socks.
Suddenly the door burst open, revealing a young, white-haired man, with an unnecessary crown added for emphasis.
"What the hell was that?" he shouted.
Marceline almost shrieked in surprise, stuffing the items back into the drawer.
"Sorry?"
Ash stopped to eye her suspiciously. "What have you got there?"
"Nothing. What's wrong?" She faked innocence as she had all her life, back when it was still just daddy and daughter of the Nightosphere.
"What did you just-? Never mind! How could you embarrass me like that? Every man at that meeting is now questioning my power. If I can't even keep my own betrothed under control, how can I spearhead an entire war? I'm starting to think you're not on my side, Marceline."
"Of course I am!" she lied. "I just- I'm concerned about the destruction we will leave in our wake. What if we make enemies we never even saw possible? Ones we didn't even know existed? What else is beyond those borders than just sugary goblins? Have you ever thought maybe the world isn't just vampires and candy?"
"Why don't you leave the worrying to me?" Ash seethed.
"But-"
"No. You sit there and look pretty while I handle anything dangerous." It struck Marceline that if he wasn't such a jerk, that would have been a pretty romantic thing to say. Too bad she hated his guts. "Now, I'm going to go talk to your father, the only one who hasn't left, and reassure him that I can handle his daughter that he entrusted to me."
"My father couldn't care less about me. He just wants to make sure he's entrusting his fortune and power into the lesser of all you idiots."
With a cold glare and an obvious distaste for this conversation, Ash turned and quickly stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. Well. At least if he was angry at Marcy, he wouldn't try to hang around her. She'd need the isolation for her plan to work.
Step one of her plot was to prepare herself. Step two was to find Leon.
After wandering through castle halls for Ash's personal counselor, Marceline came upon a room she hadn't been to before. Or, at least, she didn't recognize it. It appeared to be some sort of study. She entered, feeling wildly intrusive. The room, unlike the red of most of the castle rooms, had walls of gray. They were pale and depressing, and they reminded Marcy of, an uncomfortably large bit, herself. There were file cases on three of the four walls, the cabinets new and shiny silver. The remaining wall had a single desk, with one old, wooden chair and one chair of superior quality. It was a boneless throne, almost, with golden outlines and bejeweled corners. Leave it to Ash to have a mini throne in a random room. And there were so many rooms. If she made it out of this war, Marceline planned to chart every one, just to escape boring counsel meetings. Or perhaps, if she was really lucky, she'd never have to set foot here again.
Warm fingers grasped at her arm, and a hand covered her mouth before she could scream.
"Marceline!" someone whispered with fright. Behind her was a large, burly figure, with abnormally yellow skin for a vampire.
"Leon?" she whispered through covered lips. She studied him up close. He looked every bit healthy, but his nearly feline features were older with stress. He still wore a thin, wrangled crown of thorns, once belonging to Ash's great mother before her death. Marcy once got him to spill that secret, and even the dramatic part of how he was madly in love with the queen, and her death broke him. Leon was the queen's counsel long before Marceline was born, and the vampire princess grew up seeing him at meetings and events.
"Marceline, you can't be here."
"Duh. What is this place?"
"Not somewhere you should be. You have to go now, before Ash arrives,"
"Please, he's busy chatting up my father, re-earning his favor through charm, probably."
"Nevertheless, you're not safe. I have an excuse for expressing my concerns at that meeting. But you, Princess, do not. They will be after you the second you slip up. I know well you intend to prevent this war, and as much as I support you, you are not safe, Marceline."
"Okay, fine, I get it. I was looking for you anyway, not trying to sneak into weird rooms. I came to tell you that I'm leaving tomorrow, at dawn."
"Dawn?" He looked every bit as weary as she felt about this betrayal, but it was obvious he knew exactly why she was leaving.
"Will you help me or not?" She tapped her foot, knowing he was going to say yes, but annoyed at how long he was taking to be convinced.
"I will be just beyond the moor." Finally. "Dawn?" He raised an eyebrow, seeking assurance.
"Dawn," she reaffirmed.
"Now go," he said, his face furrowed in fear.
She slipped out of the strange room just as footsteps began to patter heavily down the hall, disappearing when the door closed to the room she had just been in. That was close, but a thrill, at the same time. If nothing else and she was a failure in her rebellion, at least she felt the rush of adrenaline and the fresh thrill of ripe betrayal. Her doubts would reign no longer.
The hours ticked by slowly, and Marceline spent them either by plotting, or taking naps. She would need her energy to remain awake during the daytime. The game of the sun was ruthless, but she had no choice but to engage this time, rather than hide away behind curtains and under blankets.
Eventually, deep oxford skies bled into pinks and oranges, and the first sight of light signaled the start of a new day.
Dawn.
"Beyond the moor" was old man code for the forest across the field. It would be difficult to sneak there in the nighttime, when the castle grounds were crawling with vampires. But in the sunlight, there were only a few patrolling, forced into being diurnal as part of the job. Marceline easily made it past them, dodging into the trees before anyone caught a whiff of royal blood and rose scented body wash.
As promised, Leon was already there, leaning against a grand oak.
"I would go with you if I could," he said, handing her a crimson red apple.
"Yes, good morning to you too."
He rolled his eyes as she stuck a single fang into the fruit, the color slowly draining. "Tell me about your plan."
"Oh, you know I'm gonna waltz in there and seduce the king, force him to not engage."
"Their ruler is a female, actually."
It was Marcy's turn to drain of color, before bringing it back with an embarrassed blush. "Oh. Really? Well, I'll-uh seduce the queen?"
"Princess, actually." Leon looked almost smug.
"Whatever! So what great advice and modes of transportation do you have for me?"
"First off, don't get killed. I'm serious. Secondly, I've arranged for an old friend of mine to come pick you up. Listen to me, Marceline." Her ears pricked back with curiosity at the tone of his voice. "This is something I've never told anyone since the death of the queen." She nodded for him to go on, annoyed by the suspense. "This person who is coming to get you will be able to take you straight to the princess, and this is because he is a candy citizen. Not just that, but personal aid to their princess."
Marceline sucked in a harsh breath in surprise and interest.
"A candy person?"
"Yes, and he'll be here any minute. You'll be in the candy kingdom in no time, but it's up to you to remain safe once you're inside."
"Unbelievable." What if he was a savage candy man?
She was about to find out, because a little carriage came through a path between the trees quietly, save for the clop of horse hooves against the ground. Woah. The horse was made of candy. And the little man driving the carriage was-
"You're a little peppermint man? That's so cute! Wait, you're not a savage, are you?"
"Marceline, if you please. May I remind you that you are royalty. This is Peppermint Butler."
"Greetings, milady. Indeed, I am the personal butler to none other than Princess Bubblegum. I will be your escort into the kingdom, so long as you don't eat me, vampire."
"Aww, you're too cute to eat, anyway. Well, Leon." She turned to him, almost wondering if she should give him a hug, but climbing into the carriage instead. "Guess this is goodbye."
"The fate of the two people is up to you. You can stop this war. Until we meet again, Marceline."
The carriage went in a circle before heading back in the direction it had come from. Marceline couldn't help but think about how Leon's goodbye sure sounded permanent, and hoped that the situation wasn't so dire as it sounded.
The little striped man had a cute little voice fit just for a cute little candy person. Marceline wondered what his people had ever done to provoke such violence from her own. It was her belief that they had done nothing, and that the wall was merely protection, not a challenge. Either way, she had already thrown herself headfirst into this war, so if she didn't save them, both of their kinds would be doomed. The victor would not be without loss.
"So," Marceline began. "Tell me about this 'Princess Bubblegum'."