Monster take the Crown

By Evil Orange Crayon

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Really if I did, this wouldn't be here and I'd have a better computer.

Warnings: I am a little devious and quite enjoy defiling and molesting things. However, I will not defile or molest anything that is not of an appropriate age. So if someone is a youngin' in the show, they'll be of a reasonable age in anything that I write unless said otherwise.

Some serious OCCness here, sorry. I try to stay IC as much as I can, but with something like this people are going to fall of the deep end of the IC pool. This isn't quite finished and as of right now I'm going to stay in the T range of things because I'm not quite comfortable with anything that may so far be suggested by supporting characters. If that changes I will adjust the rating.


It hadn't been long before he saw the error in his ways. Rather, the error in allowing the Royal family to escape. The people of Enchancia learned that they had survived and had quickly pledged their sympathy to them. There had been revolts that had required him to show just how he would rule with an iron fist. He had used his magic and fear to force the people to follow his will. Though, it wasn't long that the cruelty had taken his heart and he put a price on the heads of the Royal family. He included the Steward on a whim.

The youngest princess, though, he couldn't summon up the hatred or cruelty to wish for her head. Instead, she was worth more alive. Time and enough gold would determine who would follow the wishes of their new king.

With time, he began to miss her absence. Her brightness. Her friendship. Though, surely she wouldn't offer it to him after all the crimes he had committed. But the longer he was without her sunny disposition, the darker he became.

It had taken them close to eight years since he took the crown. It had been close to eight years of his rule that the bounties had finally rewarded him with something.

He had been in his Royal bedchamber preparing himself for bed, unable to take the help of maids and bare the judgment in their eyes. He was undoing the buttons of his shirt when there was a rapid and insisting tapping at his door. Frustrated and decidedly cranky, he snapped, "Yes, what is it?"

His steward traipsed into his room and swept an arm low in a dramatic bow, "I have important news, Your majesty."

He took a moment to secure his shirt closed, still somewhat insecure with his thin frame. "Out with it Slickwell. I don't have the patience for your theatrics."

The steward fumbled with his tie for a moment before fighting himself to deliver the 'important news.' "We found her, sire. We found the entire family, actually, at the border to Rudistan."

This was news! His crankiness subsided and he found himself rubbing his hands together. Having their heads on pikes would finally squash the meager resistance. "They were all captured?" He felt as if he could dance.

"Well," the steward's voice trembled slightly. "Not all of them, sire. The Queen, the prince and princess managed to escape capture." He bowed lowly, "B-but we have Sofia, sire."

He had unknowingly raise his wand at the ready to strike the man down, but at news of just who had been captured he held his rage. "S-sofia, you say?" He stooped to stuff his feet back into his boots, "Let me see if there is some truth to your word, Slickwell. Merlin help you if you are wrong." He knew the story behind this man, he wasn't to be trusted. But, was he foolish enough to tempt his king with something like this?

The steward led the way down to the newly renovated dungeon, though it hadn't taken him much effort because he had done it with magic. He made sure the surrounding village was well aware of where they would go if anyone would attempt to join the resistance. For the most part, the nearby village of Dunwitty had been fairly quiet. Those that felt they were a safer distance away though didn't resist the urge to show where their sympathies lied. With the power of the Amulet, though, any resistance that begged too much attention were easily wiped out.

When they entered the darkened tunnel of cells he hesitated. If the princess was here, the girl had been his one true friend. Though he had made many vain attempts to get her Amulet, and one successful one, he had never been sure how he would face her after having murdered her father. But there was this little bit of him that craved the attention that she would fawn upon him when she was a child. He raised his family wand, one of the things she had aided him in getting, and, "Luminos." The unlit torches in the corridor of cells sprang to life.

He was quick to notice a shadow of a woman curled up against the back wall of one cell. He could barely contain himself, the fear of judgment the only thing that slowed his steps. When he was in front of her cell he saw a small brunette woman curled around her knees. She looked up at him with blue depths that burned with a fire that he was unfamiliar with. "This... this isn't my Sofia," he said distractedly, lost in the hatred she seemed to exude.

"B-but, sire! This is Sofia! Perform an identity spell and you will see!"

"Yes, Cedric," the woman in the cell spoke, her voice dripped with contempt. "Perform a spell. Can you do it on your own without my Amulet to help?"

He halted and looked back at her, the voice had deepened with age but was nearly the same. Her face kept the same heart shaped roundness to it. Her hair didn't have the same luster to it, though he supposed living on the run could cause you to forgo such luxuries. It was his Sofia, though he wasn't entirely sure when he started thinking of her as his.

He turned to the steward, watching him sweat for a moment. "Fetch me a chair, then leave us." It didn't take the steward long to run from the dungeon then back again with a chair in tow, he placed it in front of Sofia's cell and after one last dramatic bow was out of sight. He sat down on the chair and leaned back, looking at the girl-no, the woman-in the cell across from him. He had so many things he wanted to say, how he had missed her. But he was a taken back by just what a lovely creature she had grown into.

She met his gaze with contempt, nothing but anger and hatred in those beautiful blue eyes. He was unexpectedly mesmerized. He wasn't sure how long he had just sat there and stared. "You put a bounty on my head, you should follow through with it."

He blinked himself back to reality and shook his head, "You think I would kill you?"

"As long as we are alive there is someone to challenge you and claim the throne. Eventually, we will take back Enchancia," he felt her conviction. "We will avenge Dad!"

He sat forward, propping his elbows up on his knees and just looked at her. "How do you know what happened? Hm? Baileywick whisked you away in the night."

"He told us! And then when you put the bounties on our heads we knew it could only be true!" Her voice cracked, "How could you do this? How could you betray me like this?"

He snorted a laugh and sat back, "I betrayed you? Girl, you were ten! What did I owe you that you would go so far as to say I betrayed you? Roland wasn't even your real father!"

"You took my Amulet, you stole from me! I thought you were my friend!" She shot back at him, "It doesn't matter that he wasn't my father. He still loved me like I was one of his children." Despite all her rage he could see her resolve crumbling. "You took everything from me," a sob broke her. "And you offer up gold for our heads!"

"Their heads," he corrected patiently. "Only their heads. Not yours."

It didn't change her opinion apparently, though he wasn't foolish enough to think it would. "Why wouldn't you want mine?"

He paused a moment, looking away. "You were my friend," he said quietly. "I couldn't have you killed. I am not so vile that I would wish death upon you. You are far too precious to me."

"Precious?" She spit the word out of her mouth, "If I'm so precious why would you do this?"

He snorted in disgust, as if it wasn't obvious. He leaned back in the chair, propping his foot upon his knee and taking the air of someone that was above explanation. "I have spent my entire life being the butt of jokes. I had been the Royal Sorcerer for years and all that man did to me was belittle me and look at me with disdain. So, tell me, 'Princess' why would I have the drive to take over a kingdom? I have showed these people what fear is. They are all finally giving me the respect I deserve." He took a moment to inspect his fingernails, anything to not have to meet her accusing gaze, "I won't lie and say I'm beloved as your father was. You are obvious proof of that."

"Are you going to keep me alive because you think I'll forgive you? That we'll be friends again?"

He looked at her a long moment, realistically he knew better. You don't kill a child's father and ruin her entire way of life and expect any sort of forgiveness, do you? "I suppose not," he sounded resigned to the idea that she would make him feel better. Her sunshine seemed to be depleted and it was his fault. There wasn't hope to survive the ever approaching darkness, he'd be swallowed whole by it. "I'm not quite sure, now, what I intend to do with you, Sofia. I see that I've ruined you." But, she was still a vision. She already saw him as a monster for killing her father, a voice whispered. Why not take command as King and keep her as a prize? He rubbed his chin at the thought, could he really force the issue upon her?

"If you keep me alive," her voice was low and full of poison. "I'll find a way to end you."

He stood then, no longer able to hear such things said in her voice. "I will keep you," he decided aloud despite her threat. "You will have to accept that," he added once she flung herself against the bars of her cell, spitting like a wild cat. "Now, now," he chidded. "All those years at Royal Prep taught you to act better, 'Princess.' I expect better behavior out of you when I return." He couldn't prevent the leer from his voice, even if it wasn't intended, and he turned to exit the dungeon.

She hated him. Let her, it wouldn't keep him from making her his prize. The dungeon door closed to muffle a tirade of hate, curses, and threats from the little woman-really he couldn't think her a girl any longer. She had become shapely as she had spent her time dodging him. The vision of her hips and breasts that she hadn't had the last time she saw him would fill his mind with inappropriate thoughts about his former apprentice.

"A-are you pleased, my king?" His steward hadn't drifted far from the dungeon, he had probably stayed close to eavesdrop for any important information he could use.

He eyed the other man with disdain, but nodded. "It is Sofia," he admitted. "I hadn't expected her to change so much." He headed in the direction of his bedroom. "It appears where I was cruel to her, Mother Nature has been kind," he thought aloud. "Now that I have her, what do I do with her?"

"Make her your bride," his steward offered. "The people loved her before. Surely if you made her your Queen they would stop their foolish resistance and accept you as their king. Plus," he gave a sinister chuckle, "it would draw the rest of them to you. You could eliminate them and truly end it. There would be no challenge to your rule." He listened to the other man's idea, mildly disturbed by the amount of glee he seemed to gather by his idea.

He swallowed hard, not sure he could get past the fact that he still pictured her as the bright ray of sunshine that would pester him in his workshop. While perverse images of the woman in the dungeons below did traipse through his mind, the knowledge that he had known her as a child made him hesitate. "Is there no end to the vile things that I could commit?"

"Sire," his steward piped up. "You are the King! There is nothing vile about taking her as your bride. I see that you care for her, prehaps lust for her." He paused at the glare he received, "She has grown into a lovely woman. Who would protest? Who would protest that mattered?" The steward opened the door to his bedchamber with a flourish. "She might protest, I'm sure. But, well... you are King Cedric the Great! Surely, you have spells and potions that could persuade her."

He held up a hand to stop the other man's disgusting offerings, "Love potions do not exist. And while I will not deny that I have committed crimes to get to where I am at... Rape. "He spat, the word left a foul taste in his mouth, "Is not something I am willing to stoop to."

"Of course not, your majesty," the steward bowed deeply. "And while love potions do not exist. There are other means you can consider, IF you decide to take that route."

"You have such animosity towards the girl," he glared at him hard. "You truly wish for her to suffer?" He could see it in the other man, the despicable things he'd have him do to her. Why?

"She found me out," he snapped. "She saw through my schemes and lost me my job in Rudistan! If it weren't for her I would have been the steward in Enchancia long ago!" He quickly smoothed down himself after the outburst, remembering just who it was he was talking to. "Her meddling cost me everything, I am only fortunate that you came to power, my liege."

He grimaced, recognizing that the other man was just petting his ego. He sighed and roughly ran his hands through his hair and over his face, "You will not venture to extract your vengeance on her, Slickwell." It was clearly an order, "If I find that you have, I will add your head as decoration to the wall." Followed, with menace, with a threat. He would be foolish to lay a hand upon Sofia.

The steward bowed deeply again, "Of course not, I wouldn't dream of it, my King!"

"See that she gets fed, do make sure not to include utensils though. I do not wanting her to attempt to harm herself or me," with that done he closed his door in the stewards face and went back to preparing himself for bed. The image of the woman in the dungeons below him still playing in his mind, couple with the image of the girl he had knew.

He pulled the Amulet of Avalor from his pocket and placed it in a delicately carved box. A wave of his wand and it was warded against theft. Satisfied, he laid it on his bedside table and climbed into bed, forgoing bed clothes in favor of feeling the richness of the weave of sheets and blankets of his bed. He didn't sleep fitfully though, while visions of the woman swam in his head in a lecherous fashion he could hear the cries of the child.

"How could you, Mister Cedric!"