Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time. I do love it though.
Vow of the Queensguard
'Love recognises no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.'
~ Maya Angelou ~
It's raining on the day of the wedding and all of the Kingsguard are present, wearing grey cloaks with King Leopold's insigne garishly sewn on. It's less for protection, more of a nasty mixture of blind tradition and a show of power. The newly married Regina, Queen Consort, looks a vision in white, but when she forgets to smile, she looks like a frightened child.
It hadn't taken long for Sir Haerviu to take place near to her. He flashed smiles at her that she struggled to return, muttered salacious details about all the nobles who grovel before her. She gives more genuine smiles at those but the frightened child in the fluffy white dress and jewels too heavy for her age remain, despite it all.
The night wore on, as did the celebrations. The king drank wine happily and heavily, the queen barely touched hers. The princess sat chatting to anyone who would listen, but her preferred spot was by her new stepmother, oblivious to the large frightened eyes, the knuckles that whitened as pale as the dress her hands clutched but Snow, too, was eventually sent off to bed. The bride's mother bid her goodbye, the smile tender and the touch loving as she left but her father was the one with tears in his eyes and leaking unashamedly down his face as he held her tightly to his chest. It was long minutes before he so reluctantly let her go.
The wedding night was to take place, and the little queen's colour seemed to pale even further. As she was led by the ladies to the room, the king followed her and it wasn't hard to notice the way his eyes followed the young bride. They entered the chambers and the doors shut behind them, the babble from the lords and ladies overpowering. Sir Beda and Sir Gareth stood outside the door, forcing their ears deaf to the voices outside as well as within the chambers.
'We might be wrong about the girl,' Beda's voice whispered across to Sir Gareth.
'Yes,' Sir Gareth agreed, scowling at the drunken lords that loitered. Their words were vulgar, talking about a girl that was the same age as their children but that didn't deter them. 'We will protect the kingdom from all threats.' His words drifted back to Beda. 'We'll protect the kingdom from the king and if the queen or the princess threatens it, we'll protect it from them too.' They stood with straight backs and deaf ears, ignoring the sounds from within the bedchambers, and when the king exited the chambers the following morning they refused to look him in the eyes.
'She's still crying,' Sir Beda's anguished whisper held an abundance of bewilderment and horror. He wasn't sure when (most likely years ago) but he had come to rely on Sir Gareth for strength and guidance in the hardest of times. Seeking this when he turned to look at Sir Gareth, it was something more than disappointment he felt when he saw the same wide-eyed panicked expression.
'What do we do with a crying girl?' Gareth whispered back the question, his wide eyes flicking to the bedroom door and back. They could both hear the sobs, the kind that screamed of heartbreak and left the body shaking and left those within the vicinity uncomfortable. She couldn't hear their words but nevertheless, they whispered. There had been silence after the grunting and silent it had remained until the king had left the chambers for food earlier that morning. The moment he had left, the sobs had started and had yet to cease.
In the quiet of the corridor, the footsteps resonated loudly and both pairs of eyes were on the corner as Sir Haerviu and Sir Aedan rounded the corner.
'We did not see the Queen at breakfast,' Sir Aedan started diplomatically before Sir Haerviu scoffed and asked bluntly how the little queen was doing. Their lips thinned as they approached her door and the sobs became audible.
'What did she say when you talked to her?' At the blank expressions, Sir Haerviu heaved a sigh of longsuffering. 'Are you telling me that you've left the poor girl crying in there? And haven't said a word to her?' The identical scowls on the two old men grew with each word. 'It's probably just as well,' he muttered quietly before answering their questioning looks. 'You all look old and powerful. I'm her age and I look pretty harmless,' he shrugged deprecatingly. 'She'll probably be a lot less scared of someone like me.' He knocked and entered the room, missing the look of consternation mingled with guilt on Sir Gareth's face.
It was neither the knocks, nor the creaking door or his footsteps that alerted the queen to his presence. It was the loud noise made by the heavy oak door slamming shut against the stone walls that startled her, scrambling ineffectively away before she recognised him and stilled. If it irked him to realise how innocuous she perceived him to be, he didn't let it show.
'It's just me, Haerviu,' he said, hands held up in frontdisarmingly. 'I came to see how you were feeling when I saw you were not present for breakfast.' He bit back another sigh as he saw the queen make no move to speak. Rather, her lips thinned against each other, forming a firm line of resistance. 'I mean you no harm,' he said earnestly, facing her as openly as he could. 'I know it must be...distasteful...to be married to such an old man,' he gauged her reaction carefully, noting the widening eyes brimming with fresh tears and old suspicion, the trembling hands clutching at her bedclothes and the lips that stayed firmly in a thin line. Good, the girl wasn't an idiot. 'I shan't relay anything you tell me, my queen,' he murmured without conscious thought. 'I shall never bring hurt to you, I don't know how to make you believe me.'
By now, he had reached the foot of the bed and facing down at her, he realised just how much at his mercy she was, this tiny slip of a girl, dwarfed by the large bed, the large bedclothes and the large man before her. If he wanted, he could have his way with her and he was almost certain the child would be too frightened to tell her husband. His eyes found hers again and the thought faded from his mind. Another took its place, a gamble he wasn't sure he wouldn't regret.
'You remind me of my sisters,' he said softly. It wasn't completely false. For all that his sisters each had hair different shades of sunset and eyes varying shades of green, there was something in the queen's face that did remind him of his sisters, and younger brother too – though he would never dare to utter the latter comparison. It was maybe in the rounded cheeks common to all children, the fat so adept at hiding the delicate bones beneath, that adult life had not yet stolen.
'Sisters?' The word broke the silence.
'Yes,' he answered cautiously.
'As in plural? How many do you have?' He hadn't expected an interrogation. Not that he was looking forward to it, but he had expected maybe a breakdown, a heartfelt talk, confessions and comfort and certainly tears. As he watched her, her bright eyes seemed to lose their moisture, the trails the tears had left behind barely visible. Within a matter of seconds, all that remained was a red nose and reddened eyes. It was impressive to watch and it didn't appear to require effort. With an internal shake, he focused his mind on the question at hand.
'Pardon?' There was visible mistrust in her entire body as she repeated the question. 'Three,' he replied. 'And two brothers.'
'Six brothers and sister in total?' Her dark eyes were wide again but he was pleased to see no distress there. It had turned his stomach, to see a girl suffering in such a manner, and especially caused by her husband and king. There should be rules outlawing such things, he thinks, but pushing his own discomfort aside, he answers the questions besieging him one by one. He doesn't quite understand her interest in his family, speculates that perhaps it is impertinence common to the richer nobility but it is only when he is shutting his eyes for sleep that night that he realises the poor girl was maybe just trying to divert her mind away from her circumstances, by whichever means possible.
At the time, he answered her questions humorously, a little truth and a few white lies giving his stories rich colour. His payment was in the smiles, tentative like the flutters of a butterfly. It warmed him from the inside out in a way that nothing else had in the course of his short life. It was the necessity of emptying his bladder that ended their téte á téte and when he'd told her as much, he'd felt oddly elated with a feeling he couldn't quite identify as he saw the light-hearted way she scrunched up her nose, with none of the tears or trembling from earlier. He left with a self-satisfied smile, which had swiftly slipped away when he saw the disapproving looks on the faces of the three guards standing outside.
Sir Gareth looked much like he always did, with his usual scowl gracing his face. It was Beda that looked unusually dour but it was Aedan who followed him to the privy, admonishing him softly enough to barely be heard. He followed him inside the privy, eyes focused firmly on Haerviu's face as the lad relieved himself, and continued to admonish him as he made way back the queen's chambers, only to blink owlishly as four figures instead of two came into view.
It was with relief that he identified the four knights devoted to guarding the princess for the day. Better to be slightly blind than going mad, he thinks. It's a cheerful welcome he offers to the newly arrived guards, much of his cheer coming from Aedan's ceasefire on the criticisms. He even manages a grimace that's almost a smile for the black haired and black eyed Sigurd, who had his usual slimy smirk in please. There was a certain exhaustion common to all four of the guards, most likely related to guarding a child. Even though, metres away from the chamber with the doors closed, he could hear the hum as she talked to the queen and not for the first time, he felt the deepest of sympathies for the bride.
'Haerviu,' Sir Trygve grunted more than spoke, though speech itself was a miracle for the man rumoured to have had his tongue cut out as a babe of no more than two seasons age.
'How goes the princess?' The redhead asks, though he need not. The door and walls were thick enough to muffle her words, but it was easy to discern the discontent in Snow's tone.
'The Princess missed her,' he replied, his face softening as much as it could with the harsh, cruel scar running down his face. His black eyes pierced into his. 'You talked to the queen?'
He shrugged deprecatingly, not answering the question or Sigurd's goading look. Let them think of it what they will. He instead asked his own question. 'What does she want with the Queen?'
It's Sigurd that answered with a snort. His thin lips seem even thinner as he spoke. 'To play with her, to dress her like a doll, to move her arms and legs as she would a puppet, who knows what goes on in that head full of wool of hers,' his words were biting but Haerviu never found himself in more agreement with the bastard. 'Care to duel?' He asked Haerviu, face full of mockery. 'That might distract the princess enough to give the queen some peace, unless you would rather leave her to the child's mercy?'
'We shall duel you unless...'
Odd completed the sentence his twin brother, Jornmurek, had started. 'You're too cowardly to duel against two instead of one.' Their thick lips split into smiles that were as sharp as the tips of their spears, dark eyes glittering with malicious intent. To the credit of Sigurd, his smirk didn't fade with his colour.
'I'd hate to disappoint the princess,' came his suave reply, along with swift knocks on the door.
'Princess, how would you like to watch a battle amongst the greatest warrior in the kingdom against two others?'
Snow's ever ready smile lit her face and she even clasped her hands together. 'Oh, how very exciting,' her eyes glittered with the sunlight coming through the window. 'Regina and I would love to see you battle.'
He didn't have to look at the queen to see her droop. 'But maybe two such beautiful girls would be a distraction?' He wonders if the little princess even picks up on the words – there's no evidence to suggest it. 'Perhaps we should let the queen get some rest for now,' he suggests, his hands already on little Snow's back, urging her off the bed.
'But she's already slept so much,' Sigurd highly doubts the queen actually gained any sleep overnight; it was far more likely she spent the night still as a statue, stiff with fright. 'Mother never needed to sleep so much and she always enjoyed battles,' Snow pouts and her eyes are wide, like a doe's but SIgurd was never one to distress himself over hunting animals and such parlour tricks won't work on him.
'Perhaps, but your mother had years before your birth to get used to the lifestyle, why don't we give the queen a few days at least?' He's moved himself between Snow and the queen, gently but surely herding her out and, just like an animal, she doesn't seem aware of it.
'Are you sure, Regina? It's very exciting and mother always loved it. I'm sure you'd love it, too,' Snow pleads and pleads, her eyes as wide as they'll go, imploring but to no avail. Regina smiles weakly, a travesty of an attempt but the princess doesn't seem to notice.
'I'll join you next time, dear,' her voice is soothing in its warmth, her eyes the complete opposite. 'I'm afraid I'm not feeling so well. Just a headache,' she adds hurriedly, seeing the fear wash over Snow's face, 'And I'm sure a little sleep is all I need.'
Pouting and reluctant, Snow is marched out of the queen's chambers, a triumphant smirk on his face. He leaves Haerviu and Aedan guarding the queen's chambers, awaiting Sirs Beda and Gareth to resume their duties – it's highly unlikely they could protect her from what actually hurts her, fealty and treason. The smirks falls away within minutes of the duel starting, the twins thoroughly defeating him. Unfair numbers, he thinks but he knows that their skills far surpass his. It's good sparring practice, even if the king prefers a more cowardly approach to ruling his kingdom. It's better to be prepared, so he rises from the ground and spars again, the princess clapping as she watches on with entertainment.
Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I've been working on it for ages but I hit a writer's block and then real life got in the way. I do hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think. I'm one of those who doesn't feel authorial intent should have any influence over reader perception so it's awesome to hear what you guys think. And I am honestly impressed by the amount of interest shown in this story - I was not expecting it in the slightest.
HeroineGauddess: Doing as requested. I hope you like my latest offering.
nahbois68: I have to admit, I found it creepy from finding out she had to marry a king and play stepmother to a girl who is, at most, 10 years younger than her. How many 10 year old new-mothers have we seen or would want to see? Because that's essentially the equivalent, isn't it? And I have to say, the stuff we've seen, like compliment on Snow being fairest of them all and 'just like her mother', whilst great in a childish, Noddy sort of way, is actually a huge disservice and almost emotional abuse, surely, towards the stepmother? Maybe emotional abuse is going too far, but definitely not exactly a kindness, was it? Anyway, I would love to see what you think of the latest chapter.
Miss Poisonous: I'm glad you like it. I have to admit, I might not take is as dark as some other stories have... I have my own ideas and interpretations of how and what happened... And I'm glad you find the distrust of the king's abilities by the guard believable - it was partially inspired by James I and Charles I of England, with Leopold with shades closer to Charles I and his father more towards James I. But do keep telling me how it reads. I'm trying to introduce characters slowly - I have my own ideas about the geography of the kingdom, how things function and mythology behind it. So there's at least some of the backstory all worked out, with some of the characterisations, but I am very glad they seem relatable and sympathetic. I can't wait to see what you think of this chapter. This chapter and the next one will be laying down foundations and characterisations; from chapter four onwards, there will be more action and plot-building with 'villains' being introduced, though I hate such terms.
Fangirl308: I'm glad you liked it. It's something I've been interested in - who the 'blackguards' are, why they follow Regina, etc. I think the theory of fear is the easy way out. This story will delve more into it and approaches it more from a civil war point of view, because I think it's foolish to think that an entire country/kingdom despises a ruler. It's never that simple - not even with Nick Clegg (no offense intended towards Nick Clegg or fans of his). I hope you continue to enjoy reading this story. This one was more about introducing some more characters and establishing relationships than anything.
Thanks to EvilQueenRegina, HeroineGauddess, JenniferTVGirl, Tols and nahbois68 for favouriting this story.
Thanks to EvilQueenRegina, Fangirl308, Gina108, JenniferTVGirl, KaydeeXO, MissJoanna, Miss Poisonous, kurotenshi-08, nahbois68 and quistis04 for following the story.
The welcome, support and interest in this story was far more than I had ever envisioned and thank you all for this. I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and if you don't, do tell me what you stopped liking about it.
Enjoy!