"It'll be updated soon," I said. "I just want a short fluff fic," I said. I lied. To myself too, apparently. This chapter did not turn out how I wanted it.

Warning: language

Silver Feathers

In a kingdom far, far away...

Roderich tried to keep his eyes firmly on the dirt path that lead through the forest. He wasn't very...his sense of direction was not really up to a Quest. He clenched the map he had managed to grab from the royal library before being whisked off.

The King hadn't really instructed him to do anything. It was more-or-less "Find something amazing and bring it back. Or kill something. Off you go now!".

Seamstresses had thrown ill-fitting and coarse travel clothes at him, the kitchen had tried to find non-perishables in their lavish pantry (one that was stocked for banquets, not travel) , and the king had given him a strict warning to come back within a month.

These clothes were extremely uncomfortable. Roderich resisted the urge to scratch at himself. Just because he was alone and in the wilderness didn't mean he had to act like an animal.

Roderich looked up from the dirt path. Trees towered above him, denying any hope of being able to leave this terrible place. A bird cawed. Roderich suddenly felt very small. Sure, in the palace he hadn't been important, but he hadn't been alone in the world, surrounded by -

Something tapped his shoulder lightly.

Roderich yelped and spun around, prepared to release verbal hell on the intruder. There was nothing behind him. Roderich stared suspiciously at the empty air for a minute before taking his glasses off and wiping off the lenses on his shirt. He normally had a cloth for this, but...

He put the glasses back on. No, he hadn't missed anything.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

Roderich pursed his lips and turned back around. Must have been the wind. Which direction had he been walking again? Roderich stared at the ground, trying to figure out where north was. He had been told something about moss...whichever side of the trees the moss grew on? But what side would that be?
North? South? The other two? It could be anything. Roderich had heard that there were more than four directions, too. That just seemed unnecessary.

"Excuse me, sir. It's just that you look lost. Hello?"

Roderich was sure Elizabeta would know.

"You can't hear me, can you?" The ghostly voice sighed.

There's that breeze again. Funny, none of the tree leaves were rustling or anything. Maybe there was a sort of...low-lying breeze? That seemed semi-plausible. It really did feel like something or someone was tapping his shoulder, though.

"Why can't anyone hear me?"

The wind sure did make odd noises. Almost like someone talking. Roderich shuddered. His pampered life really didn't prepare him for this. How did anyone ever expect princes do go out on Quests and actually do anything except get lost and fall down a lot? Of course, he wasn't a prince. Maybe it was different for them. Maybe there were special princely training programs.

An owl, maybe, hooted. Owls were the one's that hooted, right? Maybe that was cardinals...were cardinals birds?

"I'M MATTHEW WILLIAMS! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Roderich jumped and turned around again. There was a faint, shimmering form standing in front of his. It looked vaguely human, but the look on its face was demonic.

"Can you see me?"

"Who are you?" Roderich asked, reaching inside his pack for something, anything, to save him. Callous as it was to resort to physical violence, it would be much worse to die in the woods.

"I'm Matthew," the ghost whispered. Its voice was louder now, and its form was slowly filling in. Roderich glared at it. This so-called 'Matthew' looked normal enough: rather small, but of average height, a fluffy striped cap on his head. His hair was rather light for someone living in Hungary, and a rougishly long length.

"What are you? How long have you been following me?" Roderich demanded. "What do you want?"

"I've been here for awhile...You looked lost..." Matthew said. "I wanted to know if you needed help..."

"Are you a ghost?" Roderich had heard about ghosts in stories. Some sonatas were based on them, too. He was rather found of most things by Ligeti: his music would fit this forest perfectly. Though the songs. Messiaen's Quatuor Pour la Fin du Temps would also be fitting. Especially Liturgie de Cristal. The lightish overtone would go well with the atmosphere of birds and flowers with the feeling a dark secret was hiding underneath the surface. However, towards the -

"No. I'm Matthew..." Roderich almost jumped at the sudden interuption. He had completely forgoten about the little ghost-thing.

Roderich looked 'Matthew' up and down. He was fading into the foreground now, if such a thing were possible. If he knew where he was going, Roderich wasn't going to argue.

"Do you know where the nearest town is?"

"Yes! That's what I've been saying!" Matthew said.

"Good. Take me there."

"Please."

"You're welcome."

Matthew sighed. "Okay..."

XxXx

Elizabeta groaned as the maid threw open the curtains, letting the too bright sunlight in to her room. She tried to bury herself into her bed, blocking out the cursed light with thick bed covers. But this particular maid seemed absolutely determined to wake Elizabeta up.

"Go away!" she moaned. "It's too early for this!"

The maid tutted. "It's almost noon, princess! The king wishes to speak with you!"

"He can wait."

"I'm afraid he really can't, princess."

XxXx

Elizabeta listened carefully to her father explain that Roderich had disappeared without notice. She nodded carefully and promised that she wouldn't go off and do anything silly. Then she walked, slightly off-balanced, outside and sat down on a bench. She stared at the grass, the trees, the birds (especially the little yellow chicken). Everything felt slow and unnatural. She probably would wake up soon, and this would all have been a terrible nightmare.

Elizabeta buried her face in her hands. Roderich wouldn't just leave like that, there had to be a reason. A damn good reason. He would come back soon and it would all be fine and normal again.

Wherever he was, she hoped he was alright. He wasn't very strong.

Roderich would come back. It wasn't like him to run off from duty. There was a good reason, Elizabeta was sure.

Of course.

Gilbert came up behind Elizabeta and put a hand on her shoulder. "I heard about the cowardly douche-nozzle's total wimp-out."

"Don't talk about him like that!" Elizabeta stood up and grabbed Gilbert by the collar. "Roderich is not a cowardly douche-nozzle! What is a douche-nozzle, anyway?"

Gilbert explained, sheepishly.

"He is definitely not a douche-nozzle," Elizabeta said firmly. "Definitely. Pervert."

"Yeah, like you aren't," Gilbert scoffed. "I know what you use those binoculars for. The bodyguard and the busboy. Together. In the -"

Elizabeta flushed scarlet. "I-I do not! I have no idea what you're talking about! How did you find out?"

Gilbert cackled. He had binoculars of his own and a lot of time on his hands. Not that he would tell Elizabeta that. "I'm the awesome Gilbert! I have eyes around this castle."

"Who told you? Nothing happened!" Elizabeta looked away. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure, sure! Hey, where are you going?"

Elizabeta was storming off, swearing under her breath about stupid Prussians. "You just wait! Soon as I become Queen, you're out of here!"

"~But you're stuck with the awesome me~!" Gilbert sang, chasing after her. "All the better for you, too! Awesome can be spread, you know!" It couldn't, but he felt he should try to make her feel better. Not everyone could be as awesome as him.

Elizabeta laughed. "I wouldn't want anything from you!" Despite everything, arguing with Gilbert did make her feel better. It made her forget. "It sounds like you have a disease!"

Gilbert grabbed her waist. "Wanna see if it's contagious?"

Elizabeta twisted her head around to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Beilshimdt?"

He grinned. "What do you think?"

Elizabeta pulled away from him. "You sick bastard! My fiancee just left me and you -"

"Fiancee?" Gilbert asked, his fists clenching at his sides. "When did that happen?"

"I...uh..." Elizabeta looked away. "Never, I suppose. I found the ring though. He hid it in his coat, the poor romantic fool." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

"Lizzy, are you crying?" Gilbert put a hand to her cheek. Elizabeta jerked away, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm not! Shut up!"

Gilbert wrapped his arms around her. "It's okay. The pussy probably just got lost again or something and forgot to tell anyone." He patted her back awkwardly. He wasn't too good with this comforting shit.

"Yeah," Elizabeta sniffed. "Please don't touch my boobs, Gil."

Gilbert jerked his hand away guiltily. "I wasn't."

"Like I wasn't spying on the bodyguard and the busboy making out."

"I don't think they we- OOF." Gilbert winced as Elizabeta kicked him. Hard. "Right. Exactly like not that."

XxXx

"Wanna see if it's contagious?" That is the worst pick-up line ever, Gilbert. I mean seriously. Also, the kings not so much of a jerk as very, very forgetful.

And classical music. Hn.