Cinderella Wore Glass Shoes, So Priscilla Had A Tail and Scales
Chapter 1 – With Great Heritage Comes Greater Expectations
Marriage. A word that scared the hopeful romantic of a prince to death faster than the North-Eastern guillotine to the neck. It wasn't that the heir of Ariamis, a snowy Kingdom to the North, was afraid of commitments; in fact, he prided himself on keeping to them. Why just the other day, he had made the commitment to eat more green herbs than his usual diet of meat, meat, and more meat.
Many in the cold kingdom had argued that the prince simply avoided the topic of courtship due to not having a particular sexual preference to begin with, which was absurd in every way. His preference was - and always will be - the female population, although the fact that he hadn't spoken to a person of the opposite sex besides his handmaiden was completely irrelevant in this regard. What was important was the fact that he had a preference.
The prince was not afraid of commitments, not one bit. The truth of the matter was that he instead feared the opposite sex, or to put it in simpler words, had never truly interacted with a woman in general to even consider the idea of marriage. Everyone in the palace, the prince's father included, knew this to be true and yet here he was; begging on his knees for this age-old custom of arranged engagement to be re-thought - or just casually purged from any and all annals of the kingdom's history. He was just saying.
"Really, is it really tradition to be so crassly set-up like this? Don't get me wrong, some of my best friends were married to people they didn't know or exactly like and they turned out fine-"
"Which is why you will be doing the same, my son."
"-but just because it was good for the goose does NOT mean it'll be good for the gander, father!" Argon finished with what patience he could maintain in his voice and posture on his hands and knees. It was shameful for any member of nobility - monarchy included - to be submitting in such a pathetic manner but it wasn't like he really cared, this was his unbound life he was fighting for!
Imperious King Havel sighed for the umpteenth time today, his faithful Dragontooth club resting in his hand like a scepter fit for a caveman. His son might have disliked his style and taste, but he couldn't bother, he was too busy trying to force his son into an arranged marriage right now.
"Your stubbornness makes it harder and harder for me to properly explain the importance of this marriage you will be entering into."
"And your blatant refusal for a change of tradition makes it harder and harder for me to explain the importance of me living my own life!"
The King of Ariamis sighed tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose as his son continued his ranting about how situations like this create 'systems of rebellion'. They had been going at this argument for over half an hour now, and neither party had backed down from their role of who was right and wrong. The two of them fought like this daily. It didn't matter whether it was over minted tea for breakfast or which club was the fairest between Havel's Dragontooth and Argon's Demon Hammer - it was definitely the Dragontooth if anyone in the kingdom cared to know - but the father and son naturally couldn't see eye-to-eye.
Havel had been quick to blame it on the boy's mother at first. The woman had a streak for always wanting to win any and all quarrels and had even gone as far as attempt to run him through with a lance the one time she had been wrong. However, when the heavy-set King thought of how his son had favored withdrawing from certain topics with people so as not to harm their pride or create strained relations - not to mention the boy's raw talent for battle strategy - he had agreed that quite a bit of himself was to blame for the heir's personality. He couldn't help it though, men of the Rock weren't used to being the submissive type.
"You can and will engage the princess I have chosen for you and that is final! Now get up from that pathetic pose you use when trying to goad me into changing my mind. You spend too much time with that Shiva fellow from the East, honestly."
Argon groaned from his position on the carpeted floor and stood up, patting down his apparel with a sulk prominent on his face. 'Great', Havel thought as he woke his royal guard from the nap he had been having whilst he fought with his son, 'there starts the sulking... and in a few short moments the complaining will be sure to follow.'
The King watched his son as his face turned from sour, to pensive, to excited, and back to sour again. He sighed again and waited patiently for the explosion to occur, what shenanigans would his problematic heir begin now? Argon prepared to psyche himself up and Havel counted down the final grains of sand in his head.
'Three... two... one... Annand.'
"I don't understand why you're always to pushy all the time, old man," the heir began. His usually pale face was red with emotion and his mouth had decided to go into that never-ending monologue of not shutting up that it was famous for again. "I mean when have I ever disobeyed any order you've ever given-"
"You disobeyed my order not to come into the throne room to ask me to change my mind."
"-When have I ever disobeyed any order, you've given me not regarding my relationship status." Argon corrected, making his father raise an eyebrow in thought before nodding in agreement. It was true, Argon had never really gone against his wishes in any significant manner. In fact, the prince only complained like a quarrelsome wife when he made decisions behind his back about said prince. "And besides, why do I have to be married now of all times? I'm only twenty-three dammit!"
"Gaining a treaty with the Kingdom of Izalith would boost not only our standing as a small country in the snow, but also improve the prosperity of the people and strengthen our army if need for war ever arises, Lloyd forbid."
Argon gasped dramatically and placed a hand over his heart in mock-hurt. Well actually, with the uncharacteristic personality he possessed, Havel wouldn't be surprised if he were really upset about what he had just said.
"Are you saying that the only reason you're forcing me to end my single life is for the sake of this kingdom instead of my happiness?"
Havel thought for a moment before nodding firmly, "Yes, pretty much."
"Oh, you selfish sack of simple stones, how could you tell the truth so easily like that?!"
"Watch your mouth, boy," Argon's father warned and pointed the rounded end of his Dragontooth at him like some judge of morality. "this is the only method to securely bridge our nation's together without having to deplete our valuable resources in exchange. Unless you have a better idea, I suggest you put a patch of blood-red moss in that forward mouth of yours."
"Well of course I have a better idea," The prince sang in a high-pitched voice that grated annoyingly against Havel's ears. For once during their argument, the King's eyes widened in surprise, the boy really had another solution to settle into a treaty with the Kingdom of Chaos Fire without costing himself his single-life and Havel his army? He was about to commend his son on his diligence when Argon chose that moment to open his annoying mouth.
"Have Lithecore do it."
The King deadpanned his son. "Did you honestly just say that, Argon?"
"Why, is he a bad candidate?"
"Lithecore is your twin brother."
"Which is exactly why it'll work!"
"And as far as we both know; your brother not only shows a dislike to both men and women but is also the polar opposite of you."
"So, what?"
"He'd spark a war between our kingdom's by comparing Izalith's kingdom a stain on the floor, in the Queen's face just for the fun of it!"
"That is something he'd do... guess he doesn't like arid places much."
"HE DOESN'T LIKE ANY PLACE THAT MUCH YOU IDIOT!"
A tick mark grew on the Imperious King's forehead. His own heir had fooled him into thinking he actually had a concrete plan. Havel's royal guard snickered behind the sleeve of his alabaster uniform as the King looked up to the domed ceiling of his throne room and sighed in exasperation. He needed to end this non-sensical conversation between the two of them, and fast. He was far too old to be bickering like a child with an actual child.
Havel pinched the bridge of his nose again to calm himself. One last attempt to sway his wayward son's mind was all he could manage right now.
"Just... tell me why you don't wish to marry one of the princesses of Izalith. You do know there are six of them to choose from, after all."
Argon looked at his father and exhaled all the air from his lungs. When he took his sweet time to inhale, the King was just about ready to smash him into the floor, whether it was his son before him or not.
"Don't get me wrong, the daughters of Izalith are magnificent beauties to behold and I'm certain at least half of them would look my way with genuine affection for me," he began, and Havel opened his mouth to speak. If the boy knew he was catch and that three out of six of those women would fall for him then why the hell was he so against the idea of marriage already?! Were the rumor's true about him having a deeper love for men?
"However, from what interaction I've had with each individual daughter and what valuable information I've gathered from reliable sources; I can boldly say..."
Havel and his guard leaned forward in anticipation, when his usually care-free son adopted the attitude of a commanding officer, it was a wise decision to listen rather than interrupt him. Besides, this information he gathered on all six daughters of the Izalith Witch would be solid ammunition should they ever have to go to war. The excitement began to bubble inside the old King's chest as the suspense grew. This was going to be good, he just knew it!
Argon breathed in deeply again before continuing, "Two of the sister's that spend every waking minute together bide their time trading gossip and stories with their mother like ticks on a mangey dog. They don't possess any practical form of intelligence within them besides the natural affinity for Chaos Pyromancy that any guardian in Ariamis could learn in a mere day. The lone sister that I honestly couldn't give a damn what her name was acts as some chunibyo-infected teenager outside of her mother's door with a staff and cloak and can't even carry a proper conversation without shouting the words 'I must say' after every sentence.
"I would have been just fine with settling for Queelan for her gentle nature, lovely silver hair and the fact that she's so cute I could literally rock her to sleep against my chest, but unfortunately she has a tomboy-ish drake for a sister with black hair and a massive sister-complex that almost burnt my hand off with that ugly pet spider of hers for the simple act of hugging a definitely blushing Quelaan. Lastly, but not lastly, there's Quelana. She's a fine young lady with a soothing voice that's certainly the smartest out of the six due to her mastery in Pyromancy and knowledge; however, since she and I are just friends and that Laurentius, my best friend, is in love with her, she is not eligible to be my betrothed." Argon finished with a gasp for air. That detailed explanation had been the most he had spoken in quite a while and to be honest, it had felt pretty good.
His father, on the other hand, stared in utter disbelief. The royal guard simply shook his head in disappointment and reclined in his seat next to the King. Havel's son, one of the heirs to the Kingdom of Ariamis, the country in the snow that housed the famous Undead Asylum, had just shot down every single one of the six eligible bachelorettes for him to choose without batting an eye. Truthfully half of the Imperious King wanted to slap his son on the back for being a mountain of witty remarks and skillful deduction. The other half wanted to strangle the boy until he turned blue, make him revive at a nearby bonfire, and strangle him again until he let go of his sheer stupidity.
"Well, do you understand me now, father?" Havel's flabbergasted face turned to his son that was staring at him expectantly. Oh, yes... he understood. In fact, it was a shame that the King understood a little too well. His understanding was so vast that he rose from his throne to return an answer.
"YOU PICKY LITTLE BRAT! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I CAVE YOU INTO THE VERY STATUE OF VELKA YOU MADE AS A PRESENT FOR THE GODDESS WHEN SHE VISITED HERE!"
"Wha?!" Argon stuttered in confusion, this had certainly turned out differently from what he was expecting. "But I thought you understood?"
"I understand that the next words to come out of your mouth will earn you a first-class ride into the Abyss if you don't get your act together, choose a suitable bride-to-be and initiate this damn treaty! Now turn tail and BUGGER OFF!" Havel shouted at him, punctuating his words with a good boot to his son's behind that sent him flying out of the room with a loud wail, followed by a crash as the throne room doors shut behind him.
The Imperious King sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, looking at his royal guard and trusted friend with tired eyes as he sat back down next to him and gripped his Dragontooth to cool off his frayed nerves.
It wasn't like he wanted to sell his son to the strongest country, he did have a heart that was made of flesh, contrary to his moniker as it was. He wanted to see both his boy's living happily with wives that would fill the void he would leave when it was his time to leave this world. However, the fact that one son seemed to hate everything and the other was so popular but picky to the toenails was like an anvil atop his shoulders. He would usually be able to carry it without panting once, but when it felt like it was crafted from Astorian Titanite and being hammered against with each new scrap of nonsense Argon would throw his way, he honestly doubted his worth as both a father and a ruler.
"Oh Carmella, how I wish you were here to tap some sense into both of our son's foolish heads."
"Ha- achoo!"
"Why, Lloyd bless you dear brother."
"Thank you. I think I'm beginning to catch cold so far above ground level."
Argon patted his twin brother on the shoulder with a knowing smile gracing his face. While it was true that he and Lithecore had been born on the same day, at the same moment, with a few minutes in difference, the more optimistic of the two had always had more of a resistance to the common cold. Actually; he had more of a resistance to any sort of cold possible. The young man was like a portable furnace, able to melt ice and defrost a frozen body within record time by simply touching them.
Lithecore, the eldest of the two by three minutes, had always been envious of his younger sibling for that trait but never jealous. The second heir was his life and treasure, something he would do anything to see happy and smiling. It was true that Lithecore had an aversion to many, many things and that most of the kingdom saw him as unapproachable due to this. He didn't mind it, however, and instead rejoiced in the fact that his solitude was his source of entertainment. Although his father listed his complaints about it on parchment a mile long and always compared him to his extraverted twin, the older son of the Imperious King remained unperturbed. He was aware that his personality wasn't desirable, he just didn't care, that was what Argon was for anyways. As far as Lithecore was concerned he was happy being a silhouette in his brother's periphery. It gave him more time to enjoy his life and take his time to find a decent enough woman to bear his brooding nature.
"Seriously, what am I going to do?" the paler of the two suddenly remembered why exactly he was sitting outside in the snow, battling the seasonal wind when he could be resting comfortably inside one of the castle's heated rooms. "He wants me to pick one of the Izalith Sister's, dammit, the Izalith Sister's."
"When you do that it feels like you're insulting me."
"Oh, sorry." Argon sheepishly apologized and scratched the back of his head. "I forgot you like to emphasize certain words when you speak."
Lithecore drummed his fingers against the side of the wall and hummed, rubbing his arm with the other hand to alleviate the goose bumps he had. Could they not have taken this conversation somewhere warmer? Like maybe, oh he didn't know, not on top of the damn cathedral roof?! The chilly air was literally biting into his feet and hands with unbridled fury and turning them paler that his sickly skin tone already was. Just what the hell did he do to deserve the wind's wrath? He didn't even spend much time outside!
"Perhaps father see's this marriage as more than something to politically stabilize Ariamis." He said, and Argon tilted his head to him in confusion. "He wants to form lifelong peace with a stronger nation, yes, but he also wants to see you settle down. What better way to ensure your son's future than to marry him off to a respective family with known integrity?"
The second prince thought about it for a moment before nodding in understanding. Lithecore sighed and sagged his shoulders. Finally, he could escape this sub-zero climate and retreat into the confines of a warm blanket and that tome on Life-drain he had been reading. He loved his brother but sometimes the man's logic was questionable. Why did he need to receive advice on top of a Church, in the middle of Autumn, when the air in Ariamis was thinner? They could have just spoken inside of his bedroom dammit.
"Well, that does make more sense, I guess… but the problem isn't the political advantage, it's the fact that I have to marry Quelaag."
Lithecore froze. His father was making Argon marry Izalith's most tomboyish princess with a love for gargantuan arachnids? Wait, didn't she also have a sister-complex for Quelaan? The first prince was beginning to understand the desperation of his younger brother. Who would happily marry a woman voted most likely to kill you in your sleep by pouring lava onto your unmentionables?
"Has father already made the decision for it to be her?" he asked in haste.
"He didn't specify that I had to be her but looking at all six sisters', the only eligible one would be Quelaag. It truly is a shame Quelana's already taken."
"Well that is problematic." Lithecore mumbled and wrapped an arm around his brother who nearly recoiled in shock. His brother was never affectionate to people, not even him.
"Uh, are you trying to console me?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, my body is freezing, you idiot. Why did we have to climb a Church to talk this out? The cold is biting into me like a spear of agony, do you want me to fall sick and die? You know I can't handle the cold." Argon mumbled a quick apology as he and his shivering brother rose from their respective perches and descended from the roof. The second prince threw his cloak over Lithecore's shoulders as they trudged through the snow towards the castle.
His brother was right. Whilst the club-wielding King was known to act solely to benefit his country and citizen's, he also had the foresight to look after his own kin. Marrying into the Izalith bloodline was a brilliant idea, that kingdom was a wealth of knowledge, power and riches. The Witch's daughters were beauties, nearly unrivalled save for a few countries. The turning point was that Ariamis and Izalith had known each other since the genesis of their civilization's. Argon and Lithecore had spent many years visiting the land of Chaos Fire, and the sisters' of Izalith vise-versa. Not to mention that if either of the Ariamis sons were to copulate with any of the six sister's and create a child, its genes and capabilities would surpass even that of the Old Gods'.
However, the act of arranging his marriage was absurd to the younger prince. He didn't care if it had been a custom since the Days of Gray Fog, he wouldn't be forced to marry a woman he was sure to be unhappy with 'till death did he part'. He was about to say something after they crossed the threshold of the main door about eloping with his handmaiden to annoy their father when realization hit him.
"Hey, were you just cursing me?"
"Unfortunately, I've been too busy shivering to manage even that guilty pleasure."
"No, I mean before we got off the roof." He looked at his twin brother that gave him a sideways glance before smirking impishly, a crooked smile marring his features.
"Why don't you… explain your findings." He knew it, the man was trying to rile him up like he always did.
"If I put those words to you emphasized together, it spells out 'Idiot, climb a spear, fall and die'."
"Well at least you've been practicing how to decipher riddles better."
"So you did just curse me a minute ago!" he shouted aloud, scaring the servant passing by in the hallway and pointing an accusing finger at his pale-faced twin.
"Next time don't take people to places that are illogical just to ask for advice."
Argon grumbled under his breath and watched his brother depart from him. He was bundled in both his and Argon's cloak to warm up his body and he almost resembled the Bloated-head soldiers from young prince's angle if he was a tad shorter. A smile graced his lips. No matter how much his brother was avoided by everyone in the kingdom, no matter how much Lithecore acted as if he resented the world and everyone in it, Argon couldn't help but draw closer to him. Honestly, his brother was a mess. His mind was fractured, and he perceived things in the complete opposite way Argon did. If the second heir could count the many times he and Lithecore had duked it out just to resolve a disagreement or endure the wrath of their father for sparking mass riot's in the castle, he would be able to cash in a tower of souls for all the wisdom his undead body could manage to hold. Nevertheless, he still loved his brother with all his heart. It was because of his brief words and insulting actions that pushed him forward, Lithecore was his everlasting rival, after all.
Argon resigned himself to his fate for the night and turned to walk in the opposite direction. He would leave tomorrow's problems to tomorrow's him. It was no use agonizing over something a month away when he had the time to plan accordingly and craft a masterplan so foolproof it would stun the Imperious King to silence.
"Then again," Argon immediately spun on his heel toward his brother's voice and found him standing a few meters away with a pensive look on his face. "perhaps you can create this treaty without having to be forced into marriage."
The second heir's eyes glowed in the torchlight and a broad gin split his face.
"What? Really! How?!"
Lithecore turned his face to Argon and cupped his chin.
'This is it!', Argon thought excitedly, 'Trust in Lithecore to find a solution to any problem. Oh, you've saved the day yet again! Why don't they make you the main character in this story since you have the best ideas?'
"Fall in love with a princess on equal standing to Quelaag and marry her."
Argon froze in his tracks as his brother walked away muttering about how cold it was in the hallways despite the lit torches. That was what his beloved brother had come up with. A way to not forcefully marry but still forcefully marry despite the fact that he didn't want to marry. They had found a solution by missing the original agenda by a long shot. He supposed he could make an exception and actually choose to settle down without needing to parade around as the resident playboy in Ariamis but what Lithecore had proposed was simply impossible!
'Right… he's not the main character because he doesn't need to go through crap like this. That's my job…"
"Just how the hell am I supposed to find a girl like that, huh?!" He shouted out to an empty hallway and sighed. He wished Solaire was here to boost his moral and help his dropping sense of optimism.
(Somewhere near the quiet marketplace of Ariamis)
A lone woman dressed in an ice-blue cloak breathed out a sigh as the blizzard in the lower district grew fiercer in the late hours of the night. She slid her emerald eyes towards a small child jumping into the arms of his father that had just returned from the work today brought and smiled warmly. Her bare feet created small indentations in the snow-covered cobblestone as she walked by that were smoothed over by the fluffy tail that protruded from the base of her spine.
She had needed to get away and the first place that had entered her mind was Ariamis, so she had dived through the portal set against the canvas of the portrait her grandfather owned without a care as to the people that would search for her that night. Why should she, when all they wanted was to treat her like an abomination? They all followed her father's example, after all. He hadn't given a damn about her after his so called 'experiment' had failed when she had been unable to produce more scales after the age of seven. At least her uncle had been kind enough to defend her from being pelted with stones when she was younger, but whether it was because he cared or because those stones would have dirtied the impeccable floors of Anor Londo, was a mystery to her. That golden mask of his and monotone voice that sounded more feminine than masculine always confused her.
The young lady exhaled slowly, watching the large puffs of warm air escape her lips with mild interest before she caught something in her periphery and turned towards an expansive corner of the royal castle. There was a figure standing by the window on the second floor that looked as if it was in agony. With her keen eyesight, her reptilian pupils zeroed in on the figure and discovered it to be a young man about her age grasping at his hair in turmoil. His pink lips were moving in rapid succession but there didn't seem to be anyone next to him to listen to his ramblings.
Her curiosity got the best of her and she approached the castle walls, lowering her hood and shaking her long silver hair in the process. The few scales she possessed at the back of her neck appeared from sight for a split-second before being hidden by a curtain of moonlight. She watched diligently as the man paced back and forth next to the window, his mouth open but not uttering a sound, the glass was too thick be able to hear anything and even if it were, she was far away from him to even get his attention.
Again, she smiled to herself. It seemed she wasn't the only one troubled by her current circumstances. She looked up to the sky and watched as the pure white snow fell. She paid attention to a large snowflake that fluttered down to her face before melting the moment it touched her nose. She scrunched up her face cutely and sneezed. When she looked back up towards the castle's window she saw the man turn his head her way. She froze. How had he heard her when she stood outside the inner wall? Had her sneeze been that loud or were the glass on those window's thinner than she had anticipated?
She was unable to reach a proper conclusion as the young man gave the wall she stood at a longer glance before shrugging his shoulders and walking away. The lady sighed in relief, her tail wagging gently behind her. She hadn't been spotted. She replaced her hood over her head and walked on towards a statue depicting the image of Velka and rested against it as more snow piled on her shoulders and around her. She was glad she was able to retreat to her favorite place in the world, where the snow never stopped falling and the people never discriminated you based on appearances. It was here and only here that she felt truly welcome, amongst the visiting Balder soldiers and conversing with the Astorian merchants that came to sell their wares on a daily basis.
Ariamis helped her to clear her thoughts, cast her burdens aside and prepare her for her next hurdle in life. Oh, and what a hurdle she would have to face when she returned to the city that never sleeps.
Marriage. A word so vile to her that it could turn the lilies in a flower-boy's basket brown. He was forcing her to marry into some country again. Of course, she had been able to get away with it before, but she feared that now he meant business. She just didn't understand why he cared after leaving her to her own devices for just over two decades. She would have been happy to live her life without ever gracing his noble presence again but the scaleless excuse for a father had to force her to be the turning point between another 'experimental' endeavor with the kingdom of Berenike.
Goddess Velka, her aunt, had mentioned finding a prince that she would be able to settle down with even if she were opposed to marriage. 'There's a pond full of them to choose from', the goddess had said before leaving but to a cross breed like her that had only ventured to three other countries in her life, the possibilities unfortunately weren't endless.
The woman sighed and clasped her hands together in prayer. "I hope I'm able to find such a suitor, dear aunt Velka."
Please note: Argon and Lithecore are NOT actual brothers in Kingdom Come, the main story.
I decided to create a small Pisney (not to be confused with Disney for copyright reasons) fic. The title of this story says it all, so you can guess what the baseline is, ne? After watching a certain animation (*nudge* *nudge*), I decided to indulge my imagination a bit. This was the result.
I've modified a few things here and there to make it flow and I must say, it doesn't look too bad, really. Originally, I imagined it being something people might not enjoy but the opening lines immediately changed my mind. As you can see so far, Havel is the Imperious King of Ariamis and both Darkwraith and undead Argon are his son's. Since Argon and Havel get along so well – yeah right – in Kingdom Come, I made them actual family to enhance the comedy. Don't ask me why I called our super smash bro the 'Imperious King', I really wasn't thinking at the time.
Ariamis is an actual nation and its soldiers are all the enemies in the original painting, whilst the painting guardian's serve as the army in a general sense. Think of this as a break from the gory main story (ooh, that rhymed!). It's chock-full of comedy and what romance I'm capable of creating now.
Oh yes, if you're worried about me not posting new chapters of Kingdom Come in favor of my attention spent in this fic, don't fret. I don't intend on posting chapters of this story as frequently as Kingdom Come.
Please do R (are you there, ampersand? (*peers over shoulder)), I would love to hear your thoughts as well as any ideas you may have that I could include, if you so wished. Hope you all enjoyed this and stay blessed! Remember to sanitize your hands after doing any chore and throw your worn clothing in a separate clothing hamper when going outside. Coronavirus is transmitted via clothing and physical contact, so precautions should still be taken even if the risk of contracting it is low.