Proof Positive
Summary: Cedric and Sofia attend a sorcery seminar in the Kingdom of Helvetica where they run into Gabriella, a reformed sorceress-in-training whom they encountered a few years ago. She informs them that her mentor, Sir Finlay, has been arrested on what she proclaims are false charges of treason and seeks their help to clear his name. *Many references to "Magic of Memories"* *Chapter story*
Disclaimer: I don't own Sofia the First. I only own Gabriella, Sir Finlay, the Kingdom of Helvetica, and any original characters associated with it.
A/N: Well, if you were hoping to see what's become of Sir Finlay, you've got your wish. This chapter is all about him…and the guy who happens to be his fellow prisoner (and to be completely honest, one of my favorite original characters ever, which you'll understand toward the end of the story). We'll get back to the mystery solving in the next chapter, but I wanted to make sure you have Finlay's perspective as well. 😊 Here we go!
*Story*
Chapter 3: Dungeons and Dragons
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The consistent, loud, annoying dripping of water somewhere in the corner of the dungeon was enough to drive anyone mad. And for the past week since his arrest, Sir Finlay was seriously beginning to question his resilience, simply because of the reliably disturbing dripping of life's greatest resource.
The silver-haired man sighed as he turned over on his cot and pressed a pillow to his ear. He looked a little worse for wear at this point. His normally immaculately styled hair was tangled despite his attempt at upkeep, and he'd need as much magic as conditioner to get it back to normal at this point. Since he'd been arrested in the evening, he was still wearing his deep red pajama set, which now had little snags and tears here and there. Nothing a bit of wand magic couldn't fix. Oh, that's right. They'd taken his wand. It was likely that even Gabriella didn't know where it was at this point.
Gabby…
Considering he hadn't seen his apprentice—his wife—in several days at this point, he could only assume that she had somehow managed to abstain from linking herself to his arrest. Truthfully, he was relieved. While he was adamant that he'd had nothing to do with the plot to overthrow the king, he had to admit that the evidence seemed stacked against him. According to the king, he had come running into the throne room, demanding everyone do as he say or he'd take control by force. "The very idea," he muttered with a roll of his blue eyes. "I want only my little space under the castle and Gabriella. That's all I need. Why would I take over this kingdom?"
He was a little fuzzy on the true details, because some of the guards had been a bit rough with him when shoving him into the cell, and he'd hit his head on the stone wall when entering. He didn't remember exactly what had happened, but he had a clear idea that he was not responsible. He just wished he could recall clear-cut evidence to prove that he was telling the truth. If nothing else, perhaps Gabriella could do so.
Not that he didn't trust his wife with the task of vindicating him, but Gabriella tended to think with her emotions instead of her brain. If she was angry, he sincerely wished the best to those in her path of rage. And he had no doubt in his mind that she was frustrated now, which could easily lead to her infamous anger. Either way, he wondered just how much longer he'd be kept down here…and when he could get a shower, because truly, this was not sitting well with him at all. Should he be pardoned, he made a mental note to have an audience with the king about this very issue.
"Hey!"
Sir Finlay blinked when he heard a loud whisper coming from the other cell to his left. He'd not had communication with anyone since his imprisonment, so to hear another human speaking to him was a bit of a surprise. He raised his eyebrows when he saw a younger brown-haired man—probably no older than twenty-five or so—staring at him with his large baby blue eyes. "Can I help you?"
"What are ya in here for?" the man asked with a grin.
If there was one thing he knew, Finlay was quite aware of the fact that he should never divulge too much information when in this setting. So, he replied with, "Wrong place at the wrong time, I'm afraid. What of you, young man?"
"Oh, you can call me Ira."
"Finlay," the older man returned in kind.
"Ah! Okay, well, I was arrested a few years ago for stealing…eh, probably over twenty times in a few days' time. Though to be honest, I'd stolen a lot more than that before they caught me."
The sorcerer blinked in surprise. This harmless-looking young man was a petty thief? "Really?"
"Well, it's not exactly as bad as it sounds, I promise." Ira twisted his hands in an almost shy manner. "I was trying to get food for my family."
"Your family?"
"Yeah, I've got a wife and two kids, and my little sister Anamaria lives with us since our parents passed away a while ago." He lowered his head. "I used to have a steady job like the others in the village, but times are hard, and I was dismissed indefinitely. So, as I had no choice, I stole to feed them." A look of sorrow crossed his features. "I can only hope that they were able to take care of themselves since I've been gone."
Sir Finlay frowned. This is where the system was failing. Rather than taking care of the less fortunate, more resources in Helvetica were being utilized for the upper classes. Something had to be done. Always the humanitarian, the sorcerer insisted, "Ira, I am terribly sorry for your family's hardships. I'll make you a promise, my friend." He sat up and looked at the young man directly in his eyes. "If I should get out of here before you do, I will see to it that your family is taken care of. No one deserves to suffer simply because of one's finances and status."
Ira offered the older man a genuine, heartfelt smile. "Thank you, Finlay…but that's not necessary."
Sir Finlay tilted his head. "Why do you say that? If I can help, I'd like to. I am a sorcerer, after all…I've literally got the power to help."
"Whoa! You know magic? Me too! Sort of… Um, well, here's the thing…and this is kind of between you and me, okay?" Ira seemed a bit anxious and nervous, Finlay noted, though he obviously wanted to tell him something rather important. Seeing the other man nod, Ira inhaled slowly. "I plan to get out of here on my own, just as soon as my powers return to me." Seeing the sorcerer's confusion, he explained briefly with a proud smile, "I'm actually a dragon."
Finlay blinked a few times before lying down again. "Ira, I really want to help you, but if you're not going to be serious, then—"
"No, I really am! Well, I'm technically part dragon—on my mother's side. It's a long, complicated story. Something about 'love knows no bounds,' and then before you know it, adorable 'druman,' or 'dragon/human,' Ira was born." He grinned sheepishly.
The sorcerer sighed heavily. If the poor boy wanted to believe he was a dragon, who was he to stop him? After all, life spent in the dungeon could be rather monotonous and maddening, so if he had some sort of imaginative experience where he believed he was a dragon, who was he to stop him? "You don't say."
"Yeah! I'll tell you all about it at some point, but…" He yawned. "I'm kind of tired. Been a long day…you know, doing absolutely nothing. And I'd wanted to talk to you earlier in the week, but you always seemed a bit preoccupied with pacing back and forth and mumbling under your breath the last few days, so I didn't want to bother you."
Finlay chuckled. "How kind of you, Ira… Sleep well."
"G'night!" Ira settled into his cot on the other side of the opposite cell and fell asleep rather quickly, his snores filling the dungeon.
Sir Finlay sighed tiredly before turning over and allowing his mind to slowly shut down, his last thoughts of his beloved Gabriella and what would become of her if he, in fact, was never proven innocent. He fell asleep.
To be continued…