No. Mighty Ducks, the animated series not mine.
But Princess Ambrosia and story are mine ^_^



~*~*~*~*~

Chapter IV

~*~*~*~*~


A white horse shot away from the quiet city, its rider clinging onto its mane for dear life.

Though, in this circumstance, she urged it all the more…

"Faster, my faithful friend… Show me what speed your kind possesses…" then, almost as a prayer, she continued, "The King must be told… DuCaine guard them – may it not be too late…"


~*~*~*~

No more than an hour before, the violet-robed Sorceress had learnt of a painful truth—

"Aiyee…!! Stars… what ill-willed structure hath decided to hit me on the head now…?!?!"

Beside her chair was a serene crystal, the object of her frustrations. Only… now its serenity was flawed, a tiny chip broken from its perfect edge…

She picked it up with care, wondering how and where this familiar gemstone had originated from. She looked up…

… and promptly screamed…



Every living being belonging to the Service of the Royal House possessed a singing crystal, and it was the Magus' responsibility to tend to each. The cracked jewel in her pocket belonged to the most recent addition to the Palace…

It could only mean one thing…

"Macareth – the Queen is *dying*…!!"


~*~*~*~

He had not seen this man's face for the longest time…

"Fetch the water – his wounds must be cleaned!!" "Bandages, have ye more bandages?!?!" "Where is the poultice, kind woman? Quick, split the herbs and take it to the grindstone…"

… and though he wished the circumstances leading to their reunion could have been better, he would do his best to make the most of it…

"I know who you are, fair child…" he whispered to the pale-feathered youth unconscious on his bed, "… and I swear upon my life, I will save you…

"For King and Country, elthmareth…"


~*~*~*~

His Lordship's right-hand-man entered the solemn clearing just as another strangled cry rose from a throat raw from abuse.

"Halt!!" he barked, twisting the arm of the guard about to unleash another unforgiving blow, "Else I'll have you tied to the Stone next…" The lesser man trembled where he stood, and the Royal Knight shoved him away in disgust, "Away with you. All of you.

"I wish to speak to the boy alone…"

The small gathering of armored men hurried to comply to their General's command, for none would dare respond otherwise. Within scant minutes, a duty-burdened man and broken child were all that was left…

The decorated Guard frowned at the sight of the chaffed feathers and raw skin of the bound fledgling lain torso-down onto the Punishment Stone, reflected by the light cast by a single candlelit lamp. Though it not so much in disgust for what this young one had done, but more so for how unfairly he had been treated by his own men.

Some honor the King's men hold… I should burn a mark in their necks for each lash this boy has had to suffer…!!

He knelt by the blond-banged adolescent, chest heaving and evidently in much pain. A gentle glove hand was placed on his bared shoulder. The other winced, biting back a hiss. The hand was removed.

"I did not order this."

Blue eyes glared at him, a bitter laugh under his scathing tone, "You expect me to believe THAT, after what *they've* DONE?!?!"

He crossed his arms and held his head high, "I do, because as His Majesty's very shadow, I can do no less – the choice to accept it, however, is entirely yours…"

The youth scowled at him, but said nothing.

He sighed, then turned stern, "Of course, if I had believed you had done it intentionally, *I* would have been the one flogging you instead…"

A rude snort, "Gee, I guess that should be considered an honor…" Then a startled yelp, he repeated, "Wait… intentionally…?"

"If you had wanted to assassinate His Majesty, you would've aim for his head…" the seasoned swordsman explained as he cut the ropes preventing escape to push the young bandit upright, earning a sharp gasp but an otherwise quiet charge, "… or at least something more vital – you caught his kidney…"

"Isn't that vital in some animals…?" came the bold retort.

"Hold your tongue – His Majesty is NOT an *animal*…" the elder one snapped, wrapping medicine-soaked bandages from a bowl around the other's wounded back. The golden-crowned child whimpered. He sighed, "Puncturing a kidney would've been serious if we only had one – thankfully, all of us are born with two…" The ends of the gauze were knotted, "Can you sit up?"

"I can try…" was the meek reply, shaking limbs moving to support himself. The darker man detached himself from the slim boy's body, their bodily contact severed. The smaller one was massaging his sore wrists and hands, white knuckles beginning to color once more…

"You believed what I did was an accident."

A statement, not a question.

"I do…"

"Oh…" golden locks hid his eyes as he hung his head, his Adam's apple bobbing once, "Um… how is he…?"

"The healers are still tending to him… Though you hit nothing important, you did draw a great amount of blood…" the words were said with a hint of unnecessary reproach, thus he softened his next narrative, "His Majesty is a most forgiving man… If he lives through this night, you can plead Royal pardon…"

"So… what happens now…?"

The Knight turned to stare at the honesty in his captive's eyes. It would not do to break the code, despite his current righteous rage… He straightened his back and unhooked a handful of leather bindings from his belt, "Unpleasantries, I'm afraid…"

"More flogging…?" a desperate sob.

The elder said nothing, shifting forward to catch the youth by his wrists. The bandit teen shook under his touch as he secured the two together, saltwater watering the grass beside his knees…

The weight tied to the cord was held above the Punishment Stone, and to the younger one's amazement, a pillar of light shot from its axis. He tried to pull away, but found no leverage from the shining beam keeping the weight within its lightpath, held by the strongest magic…

The cloaked figure rose and turned away.

A sincere promise, "I don't flog innocents…"

Blue eyes wide with disbelief snapped to his attention.

"I… d-don't understand…"

"Contrary to its name, the Punishment Stone was never intended to be used for Punishment… more so Repentance… Bound to it, you can't escape from it, and you can't carry it with you – much like mortal sin, is it not…?"

A voice born of weariness continued, "The men expect me to restore justice, thus I must fulfill their image of me. I cannot condemn you, because I believe otherwise; on the other hand, I cannot betray their trust… So I must do this, as compromise between both worlds…

"As to what will happen to you afterwards, I leave that in the hands of Fate. If the King lives through the night, then I will release you from here to seek his grace… But if he dies…"

The younger one shut his eyes and cringed, as if to avoid the final blow…

The blow never came. Instead, a small compass was placed between his hands, "East is that way, boy… I suggest you start praying…"


~*~*~*~

She had been watching the falcon for some time now, her suspicions becoming more concrete as the night wore on. When the dubious figure disappeared suddenly from her view, she knew it was time to act. Without a moment to lose, she rushed to find her superior.

Bursting through the flap of his private tent, he caught her as she fell into his arms, her exertions taking time to calm her wildly beating heart. However, her actions were misread, his voice purring teasingly as he leaned down to her ear, "What's the rush, sweetheart…? The night is still young – we have much tim—"

A dagger was pressed to the bulge at his neck, "How many times do I have to kill you for calling me that insufferable name…?!?!"

He sighed and released her, to which left her no support to hold her in equilibrium. She gave a panicked squeak as she fell, crashing onto the floor in a tangle of limbs and weaponry. He gave a quiet laugh as he knelt by her, "You look like an unfortunate spider…"

Her gauntlet flew towards his chin, making him stumble from his perch and onto his back. She rolled upright and straddled him across his waist, blade held deadly once more to his most vulnerable point. She smirked, "No… Now, *you* look like an unfortunate spider…"

"Get off me, woman…" he growled playfully, the glint in his eye unmistakable.

Nonetheless, there would be no further talk into their current topic of who looked worst as a sprawled arachnid, her eyes turning serious as she sheathed her weapon. "Something is not right…"

The mirth in his voice was stolen, echoing her lead, "What is it, Sword Sister…?"

She stood and helped him to his feet. A finger to her lips, she beckoned to him, "Follow me…"


~*~*~*~

"… and tell the Raptor, The city is unguarded, what with the best of the Brotherhood out here with our Puppet King…" there was a grunt, and the tree behind him rustled. He frowned, "Hey, aren't you forgetting something…?"

"Hn, like what…?"

"Like my payment… The Raptor promised me reward for every report…!!"

"Oh, really…? You mean like *this*…?"

A Saurian corpse was thrown before his feet.

He leapt backwards in fright, a curse on his tongue, "Son of a—"

"Indeed…" his opponent agreed, stepping away from the shadows. The falcon snarled at the figure emerging from the darkness, his one-eyed rival revealed, "You…!!"

"I have a name… *and* a title – alas, you are far too unworthy to say it…" came the calm remark as they faced one another, hands on their respective hilts, "To think that *you* were the one who betrayed our fair Queen to them… who would betray our fair Kingdom to them…"

A dark laugh, words drawn out with poisonous emphasis, "What can I say, friend… The Raptor pays well – far better than what I'd get from *your* fair kingdom…"

"So you would trade short-term gains for a long-term loss…"

The scrape of metal against leather… A blade glints white under Luna's witness…

"So be it…"

An arrow shot from behind the Royal Guard, missing his head by a hair's breadth, embedding itself into the shoulder of his adversary's sword-arm. Blood splattered against the tree behind the traitor, crimson like the dyes of his cape… His arm fell away useless, his sword clattered against the roots…

The fallen Brother growled against the pain of his wounded appendage, "What honor do you have, friend, by using an unseen enemy to attack your foe…?"

"Every honor our Brethren hold true – at least I didn't order the arrow to strike from behind…"

"Bastard…"

"Of course…"

Shouts were heard from the camp they had erected not too far away, blurred circular orbs of brightness cutting through the darkness.

A quiet laugh, "You know… it's rather surprising how I could call you my friend without malice, yet you could never say the same…"

The gray-feathered swordsman lifted his bowed head, his wavering smile belied by the brightness reflected by the moonlight in his eyes. The injured man startled at the singular tear marring the other's countenance…

The voices of the Brotherhood drew near, as did the light from the lanterns.

The tan-bodied avian looked away first, closing his eyes. His life-stained fingers moved away from his broken flesh, digging past his armor to fish out a familiar silver pendant. Clutching to it tightly, he chuckled, "Heh… this is it, isn't it…? I suppose I deserve to die, because there is nothing I can deny. But if I am to die tonight—" he arched and exposed his throat, "—may it not be by the hand of underlings…"

His sword was retrieved from the ground, its tip poised at his pulse point. It would be his sword, but not his hand. "So be it…

"You are hereby tried and condemn for treason…" "… forgive me…" "… and thus shall be sentenced to your death…" "… undo my wrong…" "… May DuCaine have mercy on your soul…" "… stop him in time…"

Firelight faded from dulled eyes, what was once warm turning cold in the night air…

The sword felt heavy in his hand, its blade tainted, as its owner had been. He dropped it as if burned by its impurity, hissing as it clattered at his feet…

"Sir…!!" his comrades crowded around him, battle ready and alert. Preparation unnecessary, the amber radiance illuminated a dying avian and dead Saurian near their commander. Confusion dawned, "S-sir…?"

His Majesty's Knight turned swiftly on his heels and strode purposefully away from the site, the gathering parting to allow him passage. The fierce glow in his eyes deterred further questions.

"Burn the corpses…

"A traitor has been eradicated this day…"


~*~*~*~

He entered his tent, physically and mentally drained. All he wished for was rest…

"Swordsmaster…!!"

… respite was denied…

"Spellmistress…?!"

… would this night never end…?

"Please, where is His Lordship…?! I have grave news—"

He bowed his head, cursed his being, and ushered her to her final destination, "Come with me…"


~*~*~*~

Far and away, a defeated soul clawed at the gates of Death, begging entry…



The Crimson Terror roared in fury at the silver entrapment denying him satiation—

"A *CHASTITY* GUARD?!?!"

His distraction provided her a sliver of optimism, scrambling away from him as quick as her feet let fly. The doors were already within her reach – if only… if only…

His powerful tail swiped a clear path under her, her form crushed against unfeeling stone. Her fingers slid away from the golden key that was her salvation…

"And where do you think you are going, beloved…?" silken ice whispered past her ears as a forked tongue slid itself upwards. She mewled in pained desperation, "S-stop it…"

"If your so-called husband has not deflowered you, then he is more impotent than I had ever imagined him to be…" the insult grated against the walls of her heart, but she truly lacked the strength to retort, be it well or ill. "And now, look at what it shall lead to…"

She risked a dreaded glance to what horrors he referred to.

She would regret taking that risk…

A claw was held against amethyst flame, the tip glowing red hot, burnt edges smoking. He pressed her ruthlessly against the bruising slate, the incandescent point held to her milky shoulder.

"If I canna *have* you, my pretty—"

Flesh sizzled under cruel talons, the mark of a Dragon forever etched into her stolen innocence.

"—I'll have no one else *want* you…"



Red and blistered her bleeding back, she curled unto herself, the remains of her dress cocooned tighter against her numb skin.

"Se'Reike Luire… Melef un'toth hamme…"

A tiny mouse nudged her lifeless face, ashen by the rays cast from the weeping moon. Her dam broke, and it licked thirstily at her eyes, paws patting her cheek as if in thanks…

… Guardian Counselor… Grant me rest…

The last image that filled her head was of her smiling husband, longing for her return…

… forgive me…

… let me die…


~*~*~*~

Morning came too soon in the midst of a prayer.

An exhausted fledgling suddenly snapped his head upwards, eyes transfixed on the rising sun, his fatigue forgotten. To him, the coming of dawn could only mean one thing – life or death…

The bushes rustled, and his executioner stepped away from them, dew clinging to his boots, dampening the leather. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming orange and gold. The youth gulped and bowed his head to the grass, hoping for a swift execution…

The blade came down.

*chink*

He could feel someone blanketing him with a warm cloak, gloved hands massaging his sore shoulders, a smooth voice encouraging him to stand—

Eh…? He was… alive…?

"H-his M-majes-ty…?" the younger one's teeth chattered badly with cold, his fair complexion pale and white.

Rumbling laughter, "Sore and disoriented… nonetheless, he is awake and much alive…"

"H-he's al-right, t-then…?"

A clap on his shoulder, "You did good, kid… You must've prayed really, really hard…"

At that point in time, the elder knight could have said that he had laid an egg that was worth his weight in gold and he still wouldn't have cared. What mattered most was that his monarch was alive—

—and that meant *he* would live too…

"T-thank Du-C-caine…"

"Oi, kid… Kid…? KID!!"

And if his friends could see him, the notorious Bandit Prince, sprawled on the lap of a Royal Knight in dead faint… at least they would've said he was smiling in his sleep…


~*~*~*~

He stared at the broken fragments of his wife's life crystal. By some unnatural force at work, a most obvious crack had begun to form from its core.

"It can't be… SHE can't be…" he choked, his hands closing on the flawed jewel, two tears glistening against its cut surface; and only that, because the stone had refused to shine.

The blond-haired Mage had dropped to her knees in disbelief as she watched the gem tumbled out of the velvet satchel in three pieces instead of two, the largest piece beginning to cloud. Her Majesty's condition had only worsened during the night, and she had not known when it had taken such a drastic turn…

Learning of her charge's fading life had only made the blow all the worst for the emerald-eyed swordswoman, her head rested against the tent's supporting pole. If not for the constant reminder that the aforementioned stem was the only pillar sustaining the entire structure they were under, she would have struck out against it. Already a nearby tree behind the tent had borne her wild temper as soon as she had heard the news…

The eldest of their gathering touched his sovereign's paler hand, catching the other's attention.

"What now, Sire…?"

The grieving man opened his palm, rolling the imperfect glass in his hand.

"She's not dead…"

Three heads turned to him. Their curiosity gave him strength, "As long as her life crystal does not crumble into dust, she isn't dead – isn't that right…?"

The last was directed to his learned Magick. Suddenly stricken dumb, she could stutter an unintelligent affirmation.

"And even if she is dead, we will still claim her body, yes…?"

Again, his question was put out into the conversation circle, to his most trusted confidant this time. The elder man bowed his head, before nodding, once…

"Well then, the answer is obvious. I will not give up on her – I *can't* give up on her. We've come this far, we canna turn back now…"

"What of the traitor, Sire…? The Saurian forces know we are approaching their stronghold – how many and how skilled—"

"Then we change battle tactics…" the determined Ruler replied, holding the cracked jewel against the light. "We take a smaller company to avoid drawing attention, sneaking into the Raptor instead of open assault…"

A pause.

A rustle of limbs.

"I shall ready the horses…" "Must spell the weapons, conjure protective wards…"

Left alone at last, the remaining subject faithful to his Master gave a quiet chuckle. "A most inspiring speech, m'Lord… and an excellent decision…"

Silence.

"There isn't much time, is there, my friend…?"

He turned back to his smaller companion with eyes still fixed on the sullied stone. He sighed, "We will get there before the end, my Liege…"

"Don't think me rude, but…" he swallowed thickly, the gem brought away from the light at last, "… will you hold me…? Treat me like the babe of my past, in need of comfort…

"I need you… my friend…"

Wordlessly, the elder one slid his arms around the other's shoulders. The insecure youth clung to the seasoned man as if a lifeline, anchoring his sanity and resolve…

It was then the floodgates split open…

And in truth, neither would have wanted to let go…


~*~*~*~

As soon as the horses were saddled, fifteen men (and one woman) rode off to the West, promising to return triumphant…!!

… or die trying…

They left behind one irate Sorceress…



She fingered the ornate bangle that bound her to her responsibility, the unaccustomed metal feeling so alien on her wrist. She knew the circlet could be removed from her end, but not his. Experimentally, she tugged at the bindings. The youth's arm tethered to hers moved.

He turned to her, "What…?"

"Nothing…" she grumbled, hiding the bracelet under her sleeve. She kicked at a pebble beside her foot, "Just wondering how of all the people in this camp, he had you tied to ME…"

"Maybe he's trying to play matchmaker…" the bandit teen suggested, then grinned, "To which, of course, you should be grateful – because I am one handsome littl—"

"Oh please…" she groaned, feeling her sore temples, the onset of a severe migraine soon on its way. "Look, let's set certain boundaries… You're a charge—specifically, *MY* charge—meaning, there's someone in charge of you—namely, *ME*… Thus, and thusly thus, you listen to me, and only me, and that's it. Understood…?"

He stared blankly at her, "Um… Okay…"

"Good…"

She had about 3 seconds of precious silence from him.

"So anyway, like I said, I'm the most handsome little duckie this side of the woods, and a genius of a bandit besides, so you should be thanking your lucky stars that your friend decided to pair us up – because, really, he doesn't trust anyone else; especially after that little stunt I pulled yesterday (and a little of what happened last night)… but that's besides the point…!! By the way, with all the happenings happening—ooh, a little rhyme…!!—all at once, I didn't quite catch your name – so, what *is* your name, eh…?"

She began pounding her forehead against the nearest tree trunk.

It's going to be a long week ahead of me…


~*~*~*~

She peered past the shadowed corner, emerald eyes watchful for her partner's presence—

A serrated edge met the bared flesh of her neck, "Well, well, well – look what the winds brought in, hmm…?"

She did curse, shoved against the wall with her arms held useless. Her captor chuckled darkly, "Such language from your lips – I take it you're no lady, are you…?"

"Get your filthy hands off me, you filthy little ra—"

*poof*

A strained pant, "Really, Sweetheart – you shouldn't be calling him such fitting names while I'm casting spells…"

The weight behind her had vanished, replaced by a small furry mass bouncing off her boots. Gladly, she gave the foul creature a bruising kick, the grizzly ball flying towards the stone partition – spine broken, blood run cold…

She glared at her companion, "And where were *you*…?? Was I wrong to assume you were supposed to be guarding my bac—mmph?!"

The clouds veiled Her eyes, the Night lost its sight…

He released her mouth, both gasping for air. He fell back against his own wall, "I swear, Red, you'll be the death of me yet…"

Flushed and flustered, his words made no sense to her at the time, "*WHAT*?!?!"

"I broke a Spell while guarding your back, Sweetheart – goddess, do you think I enjoy halving my Life-force and suffering from Mage Fevers while I'm at it…?!"

So it wasn't a kiss… only to replenish his imbalanced Energy… Even more embarrassed, she muttered, "Oh… Sincerest apologie—"

The taller one held a finger to her lips, eyes speaking volumes, "Don't…"

Twin hearts shared a single heartbeat…

The clouds parted, Night's beacon shining once more…

The spell broke, his attention torn away from her.

"Come on," he whispered, guiding them both into another corridor, "We have to get to the tower to signal the others…"

She nodded mutely – emotions in turmoil, objective but one. "Ah…"

But the feeling she had missed something wonderful lingered in the air, faeries sighing with eternal regret…


~*~*~*~

A torch flared from a clawed spire.

From the depths of Artermicia's realm surrounding these barren lands, shrouded shades crept swiftly into the ominous lair of the unknown…

"Search the dungeons – leave no cell untouched…" hushed as his words were, the Brotherhood would not deny their King, "Now go and be safe…"

Each to their own, the fair-faced monarch found himself alone – darkness his cover, stealth his ally. He fingered the satchel tied to his belt, feeling for the jewel within. It remained substantial to his touch…

Wait for me, beloved…

The dank scent of decay filled his lungs, threatening to suffocate him to his own demise. Fighting the urge to retch, he continued on, perseverance fueled by his strength of will. Thirteen doors faded behind him, its emptiness haunting. Despair began to gnaw past the protective barriers of his vulnerable heart…

Wait…

Movement – a trick of light?

Ambrosia…?

The locks were undone, aged metal ground against corroded hinges. Conjuring an orb of irradiance, he inched carefully towards the hanging form bewitching his curiosity…

The luminescent sphere shattered at his feet, his eyes wide at the sight before him…

Sight robbed away by hollowed voids, appendages useless by shattered bone, raw flesh exposed by stripped skin… Yet – a decade of abuse could never mask the familiarity of kin—

"*Cousin*…?!?!"



~*~*~*~*~

Aoi Akiko ramblings:

That... was... an emotional *nightmare* to write... (you try cramming the minds of 6 different characters into your head over the events spanning only 2 nights in a row *faint*)
In all honesty, I am in dire need of poetic inspiration to return my mind to medieval-styled narrative, hence the rather lacking script its consequence...

*ahem* Time for personal thoughts...
I made this chapter a little Duke-heavy, didn't I...? Excuse my biasness, he *is* my most adored... On a more practical note, it was done rather to foreshadow his role in the upcoming chapters.
To clarify any uncertainties - the arrow shot at Falcone's shoulder was courtesy of Mallory, hidden in the distance (though that wasn't too clear for my Beta); and yes, I loathed it, but Falcone is now dead... though... I gave him an inkling of humanity through guilty conscience; end chapter suggest that Duke and Mal-mal have something more than kinship within the Brotherhood, but the fact is yet to be decided (more to come, Daniella L'Orange - don't worry ^_^)...
(to k2) Oh, and *NO*, Wildwing and Duke are NOT *GAY* (where the Puckworld do you get these ideas from, you silly girl...!!)

Ah, and the language Ambrosia's using is Zoisitrè... Copyrights are mine ^_^

Side notes pertaining to original history:
[1] If one's family is sane, a virgin bride is given her chastity belt/girdle shortly before her wedding. The key is given only to the groom, and is opened on their first night together. It's removed during menstruation, but otherwise kept locked.
(In the case of my story, Ambrosia wouldn't have had it on in the last chapter in the bedroom, thus explained her extreme nervousness. But since she hasn't officially been bedded, it would remain otherwise...)
[2] Magic was thought to be an exchange of energies between you and your environment (or recipient of spell). Regardless of rank, everyone is believed to possess innate ability to handle magic. However, only a magus can control it - others are easily overwhelmed. Rebalancing occurs by sharing it with another magic user...
[End notes]



~ Aoi Akiko