A/N Thanks for reading! And don't forget to review! And thanks to those who reviewed last chapter! Now please enjoy!
Chapter One: Four Years Down the Road
Blaine sighed and leaned heavily on the railing of the boat, staring at the hundreds of faces crowding the dock below her without seeing them. Families, friends, and even strangers had gathered together on this day to see her ship set sail. Of course, they had no idea that the Princess was aboard, but that was for her own safety. She contemplated waving at the crowd simply because it was there but decided against it. It's not like she knew anyone down there.
As the wind tangled through her golden locks of sun dappled hair, Blaine turned away from the smiling faces and leaned her back against the rail, brooding. One delicate hand rose to finger her slightly reddened cheek.
It was hard sometimes, she thought, to remember that not everyone realized she wasn't the average twelve year old. In fact, no one knew. One of the burdens of getting a second chance, she reflected to herself, is that it has to be a secret.
But that didn't make it easy, especially when she was a twenty-two year old woman trapped inside a body way to young for her. There were perks, she would acknowledge that much, such as getting away with things that a twenty-two year old could never do. For example, a twenty-two year old could not throw a royal tantrum over the color of her dress to escape going out with an entirely too annoying older suitor. And also, a twenty-two year old could not "mistakenly" insult a stuffy arrogant ambassador, flutter her lashes and instead of being scolded told she was cute. Oh no, there were some things a twenty-two year old could just not do.
But there were lots and lots of things that a twenty-two year old could do that a twelve year old could not. For instance, a twenty-two year old could say in the baldest of terms that "if she wanted to be a god-damned knight she could be a god-damned knight and no matter what her mother or older brother wanted or thought, she would leave for Tortall whenever she damn well pleased!" A twelve year old could not say that.
Oh no, she thought darkly, a twelve year old could not. She just hoped the red mark, proof of her earlier thoughts, didn't get worse before it got better. The captain of the ship had informed her that they would be arriving at the Tortallan border within days, two at the most.
And if she was to perfect her image, as the actress part of her greatly wanted to do, she could not show up with a rebellion caused mark on her face. Oh no, that would not do. Not at all.
"Going to stand out here brooding all day, Princess? Or are you going to let it go sometime," Blaine refused to smile at Darren, her long-term bodyguard. He could be as smug as he wanted, she thought, after all, he had warned her that talking to her guardians like that would never fly. But she had thought she was entitled to make her own choices. After all, it was she who had been in constant contact with the King of Tortall, making arrangements and such. How was she supposed to know that her older brother would throw a fit if she left for squire training two years earlier then expected?
"All day," she snipped, folding her arms over her chest, portraying the angry damsel. She made sure that when she angled her face to the side, Darren was certain to set his gaze upon the red mark.
"Let me see," he murmured and grabbed her chin, bending down to her height to look at it. She nearly smiled in amusement. She had always been short as a kid and she knew her growth spurt wouldn't kick in until she was nearing seventeen. The one advantage that really came in handy was having been placed into a body mirror to her own back on Earth. She knew everything about it, including what would happen, growth wise, and when. No awkward teen stage for her, she was already anticipating it and how she would use it to her advantage.
"Oh, quit pouting your highness, he barely touched you. The mark will be gone by the end of the day!" Darren stood back up, chuckling, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"It had better be! Those Tortallan's are expecting a perfect little pretty pretty princess! And perfect little pretty pretty princess's don't have slap marks on their faces, now do they?" she didn't wait for his reply, and instead stormed off to her room. Darren would let her stew, she knew. Not past dinner of course. Darren made sure she saw to every meal of every day. That was part of his job, he insisted time after time.
Slipping into her lavish sitting room she allowed her face to relax until all her true emotions were unmasked. She had her limits on where she used her talents, and alone was not on of those places. Years ago, whilst daydreaming instead of studying the horticultural history of Tusaine, something intensely boring, she had thought back on her first life.
And it had been shocking at how easily she had allowed herself to retreat behind her mask of talents, to the point where the real Blaine had hardly even existed. What most people back then had seen was a fake Blaine, someone she had made up to fit to what they had expected of her. In any other setting, on film, in magazines, for reporters, it would have been wonderful. But it hadn't stopped once she was alone. She had stopped being true to herself and had instead chosen the safe route, and been only what others had wanted her to be.
Essentially, she had been weak.
And she refused to allow herself to be like that ever again. She was Princess Blaine Marissa De Veinto! And she, most of all, would never forget that. So alone, and with certain people during certain circumstances, she allowed herself to be the real Blaine, and not the masked figure.
A headache was beginning to nag at the back of her eyelids after such a rough day. It wasn't just every day that she defied her parents, technically ran away, snuck onto a boat that had been forbidden to give her passage (at first) and sulked for the better part of an hour. Really, it was exhausting.
She sat in an exquisite little chair next to a nearly as beautiful little table and sighed, tipping her head back and resting. It wasn't long before she realized she wasn't alone. But she didn't panic upon the discovery. She could smell that faintest hint of jasmine and sand.
"Gainel," she whispered and opened her eyes, a wicked smile within the bottle green jewels. "How lovely to see you." Her voice a purr.
She had come to love her visits from Gainel over the four years since she had met him. At first though, she had been quite angry with him for forgetting to mention that the body he had wanted to give her had been an eight-year-olds. But after the initial confusion and heated words, she had realized he had done it for her best interests. And a friendship had grown.
But if she knew Gainel, and she did, to a certain extent, he wanted something of her. Yes, he had visited her several times over the years, and though the visits had all been pleasant and they had bonded during each, he never came unless he had a purpose. And usually that purpose had something to do with preparing her for the mission. Whether it be useful knowledge, a vital fighting technique, or simply a warning that her next actions directly influenced the promised mission, he always, always, had a purpose.
That didn't mean they couldn't have a little fun before they got down to business. With a snap her mask was back, her eyes going sultry, turning up just the slightest at the corners. Her smile turned secret and glorious, as her legs crossed silkily and she leaned forward, her golden locks falling over her shoulder.
She wrung the desired laughter from Gainel. She knew she looked ridiculous. At least to Gainel. If he had been a perfect stranger, he would have reacted entirely different to her sultry come on. But because he knew her, realized what she was doing, it only made him laugh. Which is what she had wanted.
"Lovely as always Blaine. But what's this?" he reached out and soothed his hand across her cheek. She felt, as she always felt from his touches, a soothing of nerves, a calming of thoughts, and a sleepiness start to take over. But as his hand left her skin, she forced it away and focused in.
"A fond farewell is all," she shrugged and turned her head away, angling down her chin, making her face look soft, a little sad, maybe even on the verge of tears. But she looked up at Gainel from under her lashes and saw that he wasn't buying into her act. That's what she loved most about Gainel. He wasn't easily fooled by her, as many people were. Which made their conversations all the more interesting.
"Oh? Do you always say goodbye with open handed violence?" Gainel smiled as well and she was reminded of the moon emerging from behind clouds.
"Of course! What other way is there?" she chuckled and gave his shoulder a little push. But then turned serious. "I forget sometimes that to everyone else, I'm still a kid. And in my first life, I was always very independent. Things carried over, I guess, because I took immediate control of this whole knight thing. And I guess my family didn't approve of me doing so. And then, factor in me not filling them in on any of it… well. Let's just say they were none to thrilled when I informed them I was leaving today to start my training as squire." She shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "My mistake."
"You didn't tell them about any of it? Any of it at all?" Gainel's voice had taken on the sound of thunder rolling through the hills, his version of shock.
"I'm used to having to do things on my own!" she brought her chin up, squared her shoulders as liquid steel stole through her veins. Defiance. What an exhilarating emotion. It had always been her favorite. Her eyes turned fierce, daring Gainel to tell her she was wrong, or try to make her change.
"Okay, okay!" he chuckled and held up his hands as if in surrender. "Don't turn that look on me, Blaine! It's intimidating. And besides, I didn't come here to pick at you. I came here to talk to you about something."
"The mission?" her eyes brightened like emerald jewels in sunlight as she leaned forward in the chair.
"Yes. When you reach Tortall I will visit you again to give you specific information, as I know I have been very vague. But soon, you will have a good idea of what's going on, or at least, you will have experienced some of it firsthand."
"Experience how?"
"Now Blaine, if I was to tell you that, it would spoil the surprise." Blaine looked into his eyes and knew he wasn't going to tell her. She turned away, blowing out her breath. Curiosity was a beast inside her that she was familiar with. She hated when she couldn't appease it.
As she turned back to face Gainel, he was gone, only his lingering chuckle to prove he had even been there.
She sighed slightly and shook her head. "What's wrong with a nice goodbye?" she asked of the empty air. She tried to remain slightly put off by his abrupt departure, but an excited smile claimed her face.
What was she doing sitting around her? She demanded as she bounded to a mirror to freshen up the makeup around her eyes. The mission wouldn't find her if she was sitting alone in her room. Oh no, she had to go out and up on deck for that.
Darren gave her a silly grin when she sauntered onto the rear deck. She grinned back at him from across the expanse, standing in the doorway. He was always a picture for her to look like. As he stood at the rail of the ship, the wind rippling through his hair, the sun making his eyes squint, he looked powerful. Over the years, he had let his hair grow long, often jokingly telling her he didn't have time to get it cut, that with her around he was always on the job. But she didn't mind. The long hair made him look even more like a lion in her eyes, with that golden main of hair.
A sudden turn of his head, brought her attention to the pretty young girl standing next to Darren. She lifted her eyebrows when he looked back at her, then waggled them. Darren had always been after the ladies. As if in response to Blaine's thoughts, he gave a sheepish shrug, then grinned shamelessly, and turned his body more towards the fawning girl.
Blaine shook her head and couldn't help but smile. She opened her mouth to call out to him, some snooty remark no doubt, but the door behind her jerked open suddenly, slamming into her back and knocking her forward.
It was only the training that had been drilled into her daily for the past four years that had her arms out, catching her fall and rolling her onto her back to push herself up just as quick.
She bounced lightly to her feet, brushing herself off, then turning on an apologetic smile and flashing it up at the person who had opened the door. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been… standing… there…"
It was training, again, that had her stepping back, reaching for the hilt of her sword strapped to her waist by a sturdy bejeweled belt around her hips. The man that had opened the door looked…
Blaine stared up into the eyes as beautiful as a lake hidden up in the mountains. And as blank as untouched snow. She shivered, her own green eyes trying to look away. There was nothing in those eyes, nothing at all, as if he wasn't even human. As if he wasn't even alive. And as she stared longer and longer into them, she felt herself growing steadily colder until the cold was seeping into her very bones. She shivered and tried to turn away from those dead eyes, but her body was stuck, frozen into place.
Those eyes, those beautiful lake eyes, sucked her in and swallowed her whole, until she was drowning. In a flash she saw herself, stuck in that mountain lake, stuck under the water. Trapped and facing eminent death. And as she struggled to the surface, struggled through the water that tried to force her back, struggled to live, ice began to creep across it. Frantic now, and determined to make it, she swam faster and faster, pulling harder with her arms, kicking faster with her legs, the water so clear she could see the surface, could see that if she was just a bit faster, just a bit, she would make it. The ice wouldn't trap her.
Wouldn't kill her. If only.
Her face slammed up against the ice as she reached the surface. Trapped. Fingers scrambling, searching. There had to be a way out, had be a weak point she could force herself through. She was strong enough to do it. She had to be strong enough. Panic bloomed bright, the beginning of her downfall, as it weighed heavy in her arms, made them like lead. Pain as her lungs burned for air spread across her body. Her limbs grew weak; she could barely lift them to try anymore. Try to get out.
The last, involuntary attempt to breath had her swallowing water. It rushed into her lungs, liquid poison. One last kick, one last attempt at life. And she died. As she stared into those eyes, she died.
"Blaine!" A shout had her blinking, stumbling back, away from that haunting death. Still shocked, she didn't protest when Darren grabbed her arm and jerked her protectively away from the man, trying to shield her body with his.
Her eyes searched, needing to see, needing to reassure that she wasn't at the mountain, wasn't at that lake. Wasn't dead.
Her eyes focused on the source of this frantic search for sanity and it was then that she realized the man with the death eyes was holding a sword. A massive, deadly looking sword.
Her hand clenched around the hilt of her sword, but she didn't draw, still to stunned by what she had seen. Even Darren's curse didn't faze her, though often times she scolded him for it.
But she could see why he had done so.
Striding across the deck from the left was another man, dressed in all black like the first, with the same shade of mountain lake eyes. She was certain if she looked into those eyes it would have much the same effect. She would again see her own death.
She didn't want to look. Didn't want to see.
Blaine lurched away from Darren's hand and tried to step away, tried to escape that horrible vision of desperate, useless struggle. Consequently, she didn't see as a black, writhing substance began to form around the second man's hands and slowly solidify into a bow. Didn't see as an arrow also appeared in his hand. And she definitely didn't see when the man notched the arrow, pulled back and let fly.
But she did see Darren throw himself in front of her. And she did feel the impact of the arrow thudding into his body. And she did hear the agonized breath that rushed from his lungs like black smoke.
"Darren?" she whispered, feeling his body slowly start to lean heavier and heavier against her. His only response was an agonized whimper. Oh god, a traitorous voice whispered in her mind, the first step toward mental chaos.
Her eyes, wide with sudden panic, searched franticly for help, for a way to get free from these men so she could see to Darren. She had to see to Darren. But the deck of the boat had gone suddenly deserted. There was no one. And no escape. The two men had advanced so far that they could easily reach her were she to run.
She felt a second thud as a second arrow buried itself in Darren's back. Nearly screamed as if it was she herself who had been shot. The two men with the death eyes were advancing even further. Soon they would be upon her and it would all end.
Blaine backed away from them, wrapping her arms around Darren's waist and pulling. Her back bumped into the railing of the boat and she froze, panicking even further. A cool, rational voice in her mind whispered and she calmed instantly. Yes, that was it.
Really there was no choice, she decided as her back pressed even harder against the rail. No other choice. One dainty foot after the other slowly began to climb the railing until she had dragged herself and Darren up far enough that she could lean back, far enough that she could do what she planned and take Darren with her.
With a quick inhaled breath and a final squeezed hold on Darren, she leaned back and allowed herself to fall over the side of the boat into the churning water what seemed like miles below.
A crewmember, hearing a curious splash, came up the deck to the stern of the boat to see what had caused the noise. As he crossed the deck to the railing, he slipped slightly on a puddle of water. Looking down, he saw another one a few feet away. One of the younger lads would have to come mop it up before a careless passenger slipped and did bodily harm.
A movement in the water had him striding to the railing then watching in disbelief. There, right before his very eyes, was the royal Princess of Tusaine, dragging her bodyguard through the water and to the shore.
"Captain!" he shouted, before he began running for the stairs leading to the captain's quarters. Up he went, then down a hall until he reached a red door with a golden handle. He didn't bother to knock politely, simply burst through the door, startling the poor man from his map reading.
"What is it man!" the captain shouted, clutching at his heart still thundering from shock. The sailor looked as if he had seen a ghost he was so pale. And sweating too.
"It's the Princess! She and her bodyguard have fallen overboard!" he gasped out, winded from his terror and his flight to the room. If anything were to happen to the Princess, they would all be hanged. They should never have let her on the boat. The royal Prince had expressly forbidden them incase something just like this happened.
Why hadn't they listened? Going against royal orders was treason and treason was death! He, and he knew he wasn't alone on this, didn't want to die. But more, he didn't want to lose the Princess. "What are we to do?"
"Don't panic! The river's to small to turn the boat around and go get them. But as soon as we dock ship tomorrow we'll send someone back to look for them. They'll make shore, I'm sure of it. It's just a short swim. Besides, she has her bodyguard with her. They'll be fine! I promise on my life, nothing will happen to them."
Oh, if only he knew.