No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine ^_^
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter II
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The sharp scent of rusted iron assaulted his senses, alerting him of another's presence entering his chambers. Straining against the dull silence that enveloped him like a dark shroud, he attempted to decipher the newcomer's identity. The footsteps that echoed within his stygian prison were not light, like those who came to feed him, if at all. Nor were they too heavy, like those who came to whip him, which was done often enough…
These were silent, backed by the eerie whistle of a tail. Either his guest belonged to one of the higher ranked officers, or—
"And how fares our King today, hmm…?" a sneer hung heavy in the air, claws digging into his injured flesh. He bit out a hoarse cry, arms tightening in his bonds. His tormentor chuckled darkly, "Ah… you are still healthy – that is good…"
"Shut… up…" he growled, though his voice was weak and cracking, barely containing the threat it was supposed to bear. It was of little consequence, for the malicious laugh only grew louder, the sickening crack of a slap his reward.
"I would not speak with such disrespect to the one who governs your life, dear Puckworld King…" his enemy warned, fingering the newly formed bruise laid upon countless others, already fading to varying shifts of lightening purple and ill-matched yellow. "Then again, as of several months ago, your name was officially removed from office…"
The shackled man gave a strangled cry, "N-no… It c-can't—10 years…?" For if he was no longer to ascend his untouchable throne, it meant his kin had claimed it whence of age…
Laughter born of twisted amusement set his ears pounding, "Why, yes, dear boy… 10 beautifully long years…" A reptilian tongue flickered out past his inner ear and he cringed, "You do not know how I've waited for this day, my boy…
"For 10 years I've been building up an armada against the pathetic Kingdom you called home, waiting for the chain of command to weaken. And now, my patience has been rewarded – without you, Puckworld was already doomed… and now your stead stands as poor substitute…"
"N-never…!!" the prisoner blindly snapped his jaw. A heavy-set tail caught him in the middle, a choke bringing forth blood and bile, staining the slate beneath him. Barely a whisper, the stone his only witness, "No…"
The towering terror picked his limp captive head, "You're lucky I keep you alive, dear Puckworld King, for I have uses for you yet. If I were you, I'd keep that beak shut, else I'll have it forcefully removed…" Slamming the abused head against the wall, he grinned as another crack trickled away crimson life, the broken one unconscious. Licking his claw of avian blood, he strode towards the lighted hallways leading to the towers.
"M'Lord…?" his gaunt advisor approached, leaning heavily against his staff, awaiting orders. The Saurian Overlord nodded, "Call for the Shapeshifter…
"The time for conquest has begun…"
~*~*~*~
The tavern, though far from the palace and capitol, was bustling with activity. For the Kingdom was still celebrating their King's recent alliance with the Land Beyond where their neo-Queen had flown from. Nonetheless, the man who strode into the smoky room would do to avoid the crowd, lest he was recognized. Pulling the hood further over his eyes, he slunk into the shadows as he made his way further into the noisy establishment, his objective but one…
"You're late…" his waiting companion spat, slamming down an iron mug drowned of its contents. He smirked from under his shadowed cloak, "Ah, forgive me, m'lady… for this knight rides from distant lan—"
"Ah, shut up!!" the smaller one hissed, pointing her dagger at him as she shifted from her position, her tight bodice moving with every perfected curve. He watched her lustily, as she swung her carefully bundled violet locks over her bared shoulders, muttering expletives under her breath. Seeing him still gawking at her from where he stood, blocking most of the light leaking from the center lamp, she snarled, "Quit standing around like some good-for-nothing waste-of-space…!! I haven't been chasing away well-paying customers all night just to waste more time, fool…"
"But, m'lady…" he purred, seating himself finally and skimming his knuckles against her bared forearm, careful to avoid her fiery temper consequence of her foul mood due to his delay, "You are a lovely woman to look at, do you not know…?"
"Listen, you royal pain-in-the-a**," she growled, slapping the gloved hand away, "Don't think you sweet-talking me is going to earn you a free nigh—"
"My dear lady, what giveth you such misjudgments…?" he snorted, catching her wrist and pulling her arm towards him. Kissing the fingers under the hood, he spoke, "I apologize for making you wait, m'lady… Name your price – what shall I owe to purchase your forgiveness…?"
She narrowed her chocolate-red eyes at him, "Well… I *have* lost half-a-night's earnings…" Licking her lips, she decided to plunder his offer, "30 pieces of gold."
"Done."
Now she smiled, letting him mark her wrist. What did she care for male domination, if she was handsomely paid in the end? Purring as she tickled him under the beak, she pulled him to her private chambers, "Follow me…"
~*~*~*~
As much as the bar below choked upon the stench of cheap ale and poisonous pipeweed, the rooms above steamed with heated passion and sinful lust. Such were the forbidden things sold to the ill-educated and weak-willed, those caught in the trade cursing their d*mned livelihood. Chances of escape from this dark world were slim, if at all – ah, if you could not break free from the weights of indulgence, then there were ways of making it work for you instead.
Which was the keystone to the flirtatious beauty's method of earning her way from rags to riches within a few short years. She was a succubus, sapping secrets from her often drunken customers, babbling information never made for peasant ears in the whorls of unguarded desire. Guarding it carefully, she sold it to her other set of clientele seeking information. She was hardly concerned with who or what race her second set originated from, so long as they could afford her price…
On this night, the man heaving above her from the exertions of faux love-making was of both sets, telling her secrets of the castle, at the same time extracting news since his last visit. She groaned out her answers past the breathless moans that always seemed to set the men off. It was a good hour later before either of them reached sated completion…
"You have new orders," she suddenly spoke, murmuring against his sweat-slicked chest, absently tracing imaginary patterns on it, "They come from the Raptor…"
He pulled her to him and kissed her. "Ah, so the Devil calls for me at last…" he commented dryly, sitting up and bringing the warm body leaning against him upright. This was the real reason he had sought her out – besides sharing idle palace gossip, that is… "What of it, my pretty one…?"
"You say the palace is in mild turmoil, due to the King and neo-Queen's settling into their roles…" she detangled herself from his embrace and threw the thin coverlets hiding their dirty secret beneath its ash-gray expanse. Throwing him a scroll, she began to dress. "Then this may be a good time for you to act. The cold bastard wants the King dead…"
"Oh…? I thought he had wanted him alive to be his puppet…" the knight growled, swinging himself off the thin mattress to gather his things, "Heh, the things I do for money…"
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Quite so… but think," she smirked, her eyes reflecting the thin beams of moonlight streaming past the poor excuse for drapes at the windows, "Our lives would be so much sweeter afterwards, eh…?"
He turned to her and mirrored her grin, claiming her mouth one last time, "So true, so true… my beloved…"
~*~*~*~
"How fares the construction of the new West Wall, my faithful Guard…?" the monarch questioned, staring at the looming white stone rising against the backdrop of quiescent forests. His horse shied against the dusty debris churned up by the workers hacking and toiling away the day…
"Very well, Sire…" the gray-feathered one answered, riding up to speak to his superior, his dark-colored stallion shielding the Royal's white one from the dirt. The fair mare nuzzled its companion, almost in a gesture of thanks… "They say the first tower should be ready for your inspection, first thing tomorrow morning…"
The crowned youth nodded absently, patting his trusted stead encouragingly. Shielding his eyes against the sun, he made his decision, "Good, good… I shall christen it with the Queen then…"
"How goes your time alone with her, Sire…?" the Knight whispered discreetly, leaning his head slightly towards his ruler. To this the younger one sighed, "The same as our wedding day, perhaps a little more estranged… She does not speak much to me – I am beginning to worry about her health if she continues…"
"Give it time, Sire…" the elder one advised, watching his charge staring at his wedding band once more, fingering it in an odd mixture of hope and despair, "You will grow to love her, and she you—"
"I do not doubt loving her enough, dear friend…" the King confessed, turning to view the overhanging gardens to his far right, where he had left his newly-wedded wife, "But she—I-I… do not think she will ever love me…" Sighing, he turned to his hand again, "I know this must be a most difficult time for her, but I wis—"
"There is nothing you can do, Your Majesty… Already your first hurdle has been crossed – you love her…" the one-eyed Knight spoke in calming low tones, "Her Majesty would return your feelings when she is ready… And it will be soon, I think…"
Snorting elegantly, the blueblood continued his survey of the defense tower, "How are you so sure of this, old friend…?"
"She wields a sword. Got smacked by it…" the weathered swordsman replied in mild annoyance, bringing his hand up to his temple, the memory fresh in his mind, though the wound was not. Chuckling to belie his irritation, he turned to explain, "Women who know how to take up arms are fiercely independent, but also very wise…" He cowered at the look of shock on his King's face, "Um… have I said too much…?"
"She carries a *sword*…?!" the fairer one spluttered, blinking in disbelief, before the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "And smacked *YOU* with it…?!?!"
The darker man groaned, "Aye, aye… Ya don't have ta rub it in…"
"Stars, even *I* can't get close enough to you to do that…" the Royal one gave a small sigh, "But you're right… I supposed I'm just being impatient…" Turning to clap the leader of the Brotherhood on the shoulder, he gave a genuine smile, "Thank you, my friend…"
Smiling again, the Royal Guard bowed, "Any time, Your Majesty…"
~*~*~*~
"Make it look like an accident, he says… Be discreet, or I'll kill you myself, he says…" the shadow grumbled as he sought the cover of darkness to shield his presence. Pulling out the scroll he had been given a few days prior, he muttered the Spell of Misfortune scribed inside with a foreign tongue, praying to all the senile gods above and beyond that the spell would not backlash on him. Waiting a while to see if he would disintegrate into a pile of ashes or shrivel up into some kind of animal or another, he breathed a sigh of relief that he was still safe. Tapping the parchment with a coin bearing the face of his monarch, he whispered the King's name. The coin melted in his hands and he dropped it, squeaking silently as he watched the metallic pool disappear into the amber paper, as if absorbed into its thin membranous skin. A heartbeat later, the whole manuscript was eaten by a flash of blue fire, silver ash infused into the air surround him, scattered by the winds…
He broke from his frozen shock, chiding himself for being a coward. His task done, he crept away from the site to demand payment for his deed…
~*~*~*~
"And finally, Your Majesty – the tower itself…" the eager man under His Majesty's employment gestured with a proud hand, ushering his esteemed guest through the wide arched portals leading to the skies. The view was breathtaking, the lush forests surrounding the peaceful capitol unfurling themselves before their eyes. But more importantly, it gave an unobstructed assessment of the western landscape…
"Where I lost my brother and cousin in one night…" the white-feathered man mumbled, his eyes turning sorrowful as he stared into the verdant wood where his kin had been last reported before they had disappeared, 10 dreary years ago…
"Your Majesty…?" his Royal Knight questioned, shaking him out of his reverie.
"I'm alright…"
The foreman rambled on and on about the construction, most of which the party knew beforehand. The ruling Puckworlder turned to instead to watch his recent bride, eyes turned to the majestic skies, a look of longing evident in her equally blue pupils. A breeze blew against her, and she closed her eyes to the caress of the wind. He smiled. Yes, I will wait for her – after all, she *is* worth waiting for…
Meanwhile, the blond-haired Sorceress was at ill-ease, touching every alternate stone or so to validate her feelings. The giant pieces felt hot and cold, prickling at her senses at odd intervals. Strange magic had been cast here, she thought to herself, studying the absent cracks, but I cannot understand its source or location of origin, nor its purpose… Why—?
The gathered courtiers began to move towards the bridge connecting the twin defense spires. Nonetheless, for fear of calamity, she instinctively lagged behind, her spell-book clutched tighter to her chest…
The Royal Entourage was the last to follow, for the Royal Knight was engaged in a heated debate about the strength and resistance the Wall could withstand if ever under attack. The King seemed disinterested, wandering alone towards the end of the wall…
It was then when the Magus felt the pull of Dark Powers working at its fullest capacity, her mind's eye exploding with a myriad of color. She whirled to warn her distant monarch, "YOUR MAJESTY, LOOK OU—"
Her warning came too late, as the youth watched with horror the stone beneath his hands and feet crumbling away into sand, quicker than thought. "What the—"
The faithful magician's alarmed cry brought the immediate attention of His Majesty's attendants – especially his Royal Bodyguard. "*SIRE*!!"
It was a split-second decision. Further down the wall, two women turned to one another and begged the other for strength. Then they reacted, sprinting down the white path towards their falling King…
"*M'LADY*!!" called the gray-feathered swordsman, lunging for the blur of royal blue and white sprinting before him. His Sword Sister did the unthinkable – she slammed into him and pushed him to the ground, an arm against the bulge of his throat, "Let her go…"
"B-but she'll kill hersel—"
He stared after the lithe figurine leaping off the broken ledge, executing a perfect dive after her King. But what had caught everyone's attention was not her suicidal attempt in following their monarch plunging to his death—
"Great Mother of Ducks…"
Gleaming white reflected the crystal sunlight in scattered tatters…
The Lady Ambrosia had wings.
~*~*~*~
"You cannot take her – she is *MY* DAUGHTER!!" screamed the anguished mother, holding the silent child to her breast. Behind the small mahogany-crowned child lay evidence to their argument – a pair of snow-white wings twice the young one's height, folded haphazardly and dragging on the floor…
"She is a curse to the Royal line…!!" the distressed father accused, yanking on the additional appendages sprouting from what-used-to-be his youngest offspring. The girl cried out sharply at the harshness of his actions, the feathered limbs jerking upwards by its own accord with enough force to send him reeling. He hissed with unbridled fury – "See how she deals with her own *FATHER*…?!?! Who would love this accursed monster now…?! How shall I find the wretched thing a *HUSBAND*?!?!"
"She's *NOT* a wretched THING!!" the protective mother countered, snatching the wings and anchoring them down. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she stroked the planes of purest white, of softest down, "Heed not your father, dearest one… Mama shall find you someone that'll understand… He will understand…"
~*~*~*~
The fated fall was labeled as an assassination attempt on His Majesty's life, his Royal Guard pouncing on the task of tracing suspects while his Mage unlocked the secret to the spell. Nonetheless, the monarch would not care for either, as there were more important things in his mind to comprehend and accept…
He fingered the torn material that hung at the back of her dress, her majestic magnificence long since withdrawn, inexorably pulled into her porcelain back. His mind kept returning to the point in time when she had set his boots upon solid ground…
"Please believe…" she had begged, her voice raw with pleading, "Please understand…"
Her words repeated itself in his head as the scene ended with exhaustion claiming her feverish body, him catching his beloved before she could fall, his shaky legs folding under him. The next thing he knew, his guards had ushered him here, to his inner sanctum, his loyal Knight's most trusted men and his Mage's strongest shields granting him safe haven…
Why are you so afraid, my love…? he asked as he traced the unblemished skin peering from the two long rents on either side of her spine, Why would I not believe you…? Not understand you…?
"Her family say she is cursed…" a quiet voice startled him as soft footfalls told of the approach of another. Her cherry-braided bodyguard came forward and knelt before him, "They rejected her for these, calling her an abomination. She is afraid you will reject her too, now that you know…"
"What do you know of this? Speak truthfully…" he commanded, though without malice. The Female Guard nodded in compliance, "I hear and obey, my liege…
"They say that Wings are the craft of Demons, thus labeling Her Majesty a Demonic childling. Her people know nothing of this – but her family, barring her late Mother, shuns her presence most obviously. I believe this has led to her quiet spirit…
"She was the first Princess to have her marriage arranged, long before her sisters were of age. Her Mother turned to Puckworld due to our very likeness to the Princess. She believed we would accept this unwanted curse… She believed we would understand—"
"How can such beauty be called a curse…?" the King whispered, eyes flickering towards the trail of feathers littered around the bed, "How could her family – her own flesh and blood – be so cruel…?"
"You do not comprehend this new discovery in all its entirety, my liege…" the emerald-eyed one informed, picking a shaft from the floor. She held it against her bared forearm, "A simple feather may caress one's own with the gentlest of touches… but fueled by anger—" she closed her eyes and concentrated. The white in her hands shone brightly and glowed bright and hot, silver threads spreading itself amongst the fibers. She removed the shaft and slashed it blindly past her sacrificial limb—
Drip, drop.
"Gods of the sky…" he gasped.
Three drops of brightest red marred the perfection of slate and stone.
"You see, this is the true curse of her wings…" the Knight elucidated, pressing against her self-inflicted wound. "You hold in your hands the most beautiful Angel to ever grace mortal eyes… but one false move against her whence her appendages are spread, and she becomes the most dangerous living weapons set amongst men…"
He turned back to the barely breathing sylph-like nymph in his bed, "Stars…"
Her Guard immediately felt certain unease wash over them like a tangible tide, "Sire… Please do not dismis—"
"Whoever suggested dismissal…?!" the mane declared sharply, glaring at his subject, "I would not disgrace her so openly…!!"
"My apologies, my liege…" the armored woman amended, dropping her head, "I only beg on behalf of my Lady that should you have any misgivings of keeping the Lady Ambrosia, it stands on no valid ground. I have much faith my Lady cannot hold enough emotion to cut you or bring shame to you Name…"
"Leave us…" he requested tiredly, but with little emotion, stroking a stray lock of mahogany across his wife's pale cheek. "I have much to think about…"
"As you wish, Your Majesty…" the woman acknowledged, backing towards the ornate doors. A moment before leaving, she reasoned in a beseeching tone, "She is a creature born to love, Your Majesty, and she will learn to love you. If only you overlook this blatant flaw and allow her …
"Believe her, Your Majesty. Understand…"
The doors clicked lock behind her, and he wept in confused despair…
~*~*~*~
She woke suddenly at the appearance of the first twilight star, tearing herself from an invisible nightmare. He immediately came to her side, holding her by her shoulders. Nevertheless, when her eyes gazed upon his shining countenance reflected by the light of the eve, the terror of no nightmare could compare…
A strangled yelp escaped her throat as she curled unto herself, backing away in fear, shrinking from his grasp. He inched closer, only for her to distance herself by unequal measure, ending against the unyielding bed-frame.
"P-please…" a desperate plea sounded against the descending night, "You m-mustn't look at me, my L-lord…"
"You are my wife. I shall do as I am able…" came the response, colder than the ice that haunted the most frightening winters. Yet, the hands on her tensed shoulders loosened with his next command, "Face me, please…?"
Wide pools of purest sapphire shone against darkest wine-mahogany, deepest swirls of violet blending with one another. Whilst one trembled with much fear, the other masqued all emotion with hardened features of utmost authority.
"Let me see your wings," the demand was firm and unquestionable, almost testing her faithfulness to obey. The eyes she was relying upon for warmth and kindness was lost to her, her doubts resurfacing…
"Y-yes, my L-lord…"
Facing away, cheeks ablaze with shameful guilt for bearing the traits of a Demon, the silken halo of feathers slid soundlessly around them, of tender embrace. Loosened shafts danced in the air, borne upon the whispers of the wind, seeking acceptance…
And acceptance you shall have… he breathed, his cold façade cracking at the drunken lines of silver drawn at the edge of her delicate jaw.
His gentle hand traced the pattern of arrangement on one beckoning appendage of flight. Allowing awe to color his words, he whispered, "Beautiful…"
"S-sire…??!"
Tracing the underside of one glassy eye, he brushed away the saltwater screen that was the source of her marred beauty, "Shh… Even tears cannot steal away your beauty, my love…"
"B-but…"
He brought himself close to her and kissed away the wet trail upon her pale cheek, "Hush… say no more, for there is nothing you can say that will change my mind…" Rubbing a cheek against her angelic gift, he assured her, "Your wings are beautiful… as are you… I cannot lie to you, my love…"
"The c-curse—"
"—is of no importance to me…" he finished for her, setting his finger against her lips, "You now carry my Name. Your place is by my side. Our Kingdom does not believe in such foolishness…" Proving his sincere confession, he sealed his promise with a kiss to wing at its first juncture, "I have not believed, but I can try… I cannot pretend to understand, but I can learn… For you, to brave the knives that bar us from each other is worth the blood shed and sheets stained – I accept you, beloved…
"I love you…
"And let no one tell you otherwise…"
And the stars sang in harmony as the soul in most need of healing hath finally found her healer…
~*~*~*~
Another armored puppet crashed against the stone wall, shattering upon impact, the dark magick woven into its seams devoured by the dark stone. The hunched figure watching this scene safely from his position beside the raised throne tapped the ground to retrieve the dissipated energy, to store for future use…
"What explanation does that RAT give, saying he has *FAILED* me…?!?!" the crimson-crested leader roared, his temper drawing an unholy aura around his crown, "So, the Puckworld King is alive *YET*?!?!?"
The small reptilian kneeling before him cowered into himself, wishing for all his talents as a Shapeshifter, he could meld and disappear into the marbled surface underfoot. Reminding himself that he deserved none of this as a messenger, he squeaked, "It is what the Knight has told the One in the whorehouse, my liege…" Peering out of his robes, he beseeched, almost as his last effort to displace the reproach off his person, "He *did* add something that might interest you, my liege…"
"*SPEAK*!!"
"The Knight reports that the King has a new point of focus…" the child-like servant announced, quickly taking the likeness of the foreign Royal blood, emerald detail down to the last singular eyelash. Batting hir eyes timidly, he greatly exaggerated his newfound femininity, "Palace staff say that the King would do anything for his neo-Queen…"
"I have read this in the stars, m'lord – at present, she is His Majesty's greatest weakness…" added the hollow voice of his advisor, turning to the Dragonling brooding quietly in his seat, "Suppose we manipulate this to our advantage…?"
A malicious smile painted itself upon the Overlord's snout, "Why yes… A most excellent idea, indeed… And better yet, perhaps I would be able to kill two *birds* with one stone, by securing myself a mate…"
All color drained from the disguised lady as he ceased prancing around the hall, his antics frozen in mid-step. Morphing into himself with the blink of an eye, he gulped, "S-sire…?"
"Call for the pathetic knight once more…!!" bellowed the giant, his commanding hand flung out as he gave his orders. Sinking into the comfort of his cushions, he steepled his claws under his chin as a new order forged itself from the depths of his cunning mind, "Tell him he shall have new orders to carry out…"
Staring at the floating orbs of sight once belonging to blueblood, he grinned, "Soon, very soon… Puckworld will be MINE…!!"
~*~*~*~*~
Aoi Akiko ramblings:
Akiko is happy...!! Because Akiko has finished her exams and summer vacation is here...!! Yay *akiko dances around her pootie-chan (baby aka her laptop)*!!
*ahem* Akiko begs the forgiveness of many for the rather drawn-out waiting period since her last update. Many, many things have happened, and personally, Akiko is glad that they're finally out of the way... Now, Akiko can finally focus more, more, more on her ficcies...!!
About the story...
Virtual lollipops to those who guessed the first scene (dungeon) between
Canard and Dragaunus, and the next 2 scenes (tavern) between
Falcone and Lucretia. Initially, Lucretia never entered my
list of characters, but I needed a strong personality not used to support
Falcone's role... *sniff*
If you're asking why on *PUCKWORLD* I'm putting that little bit about Ambrosia having wings and all, it's really a small backdrop of things to come. For the record, I did not conveniently *make* all these details up – they were in the original character design of her original character. Um, please do not sue...?
I admit, the whole story seems a little cliché at times (especially with the Dragaunus-I-want-to-take-over-Puckworld-part), but I assure you, there will be some *twists* coming up soon. Stay tuned, minna (everyone)...!!
Thankies: Silver Elf Child, Becks Michaels... ^_^ Arigato, ganbatte yo!!