The second half of this story, (the part you may begin to recognize) starts in a kingdom not yet named. The government was a tangle of nobility, and would-be-kings; the land resembling more a game of marbles than anything, the villages scattered about here and there. In spite of all its muddled aspects, there was a king who ruled supreme; his name was Alfred.
Now, King Alfred had many children (six daughters and nine sons to be exact), only two of them being legitimate, Francine and Patrick. Now Princess Francine was a well-refined, urbane young woman, good at her embroidery, and adored by her fellow courtiers. Prince Patrick was a relatively intelligent, quite handsome young man, with hazel eyes, and wavy auburn hair. His favorite hobbies were playing croquet, fencing, and rescuing damsels in distress. But amidst all of these, his true passion was exploring. He'd travel the countryside far and wide, facing many a great peril to fulfill his lifetime journey of adventure. There was only a slight problem with this quest of his: he had absolutely no sense of direction, which was how he'd found himself in his current predicament….
It had started out innocently enough; just a small ride through the woods was all, really. How harmful could that be? His royal entourage had taken camp near the outlying of a small forest (well, it had seemed small at the time.) Things turned out otherwise, needless to say.
He'd slipped away from camp shortly after their arrival. He did not need some bloody escort! He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself thank you very much. Or, at least that's what he'd been telling himself. It had become a little mantra, one which he'd constantly been chanting in his head for the past hour or so. Perfectly capable, I know exactly where I am. I meant to take that left turn. I intended to pass that tree for the fourth time…Unfortunately for him, he wasn't very convincing. And his rapidly growing dread was fueling his panic by the seconds. Oh, God why? I am going to die in these cursed woods! All alone! Probably to be eaten by some rabid bear! Or worse! Perhaps I am forever doomed to wander this enchanted forest for all eternity! Oh, GOD! I'm too young to die!
A loud decidedly masculine voice broke through his panicked musings. "Godiva, Godiva! Let down your hair!"
And then…an angelic voice pierced his darkened soul, like a beacon in the darkness of an eternal night. (Or so it seemed to him.)
He paused for a moment to listen, it seemed to be the sound of a woman, and it was coming from just beyond those trees! He carefully guided his snowy stallion Penny Feather towards the source.
"Oh, what a lovely voice! How terrible it is that it must be raised in such distress! I must save this young maiden!" he declared heroically. (How exactly he knew that she was indeed young or a maiden, is beyond me, but I tend to find it best not to question strategically placed plot devices.)
Author's Note: Ah, dear readers…we speak again. Yes, we. I am very fluent in these things, so much that I have translated your thoughts into conversation. No, hush. There is no need to speak, for you have already spoken…Now to Tigress of the Underworld two things must be said firstly, your username is quite inventive and eloquent all in one, secondly, WHO IN THE WORLD ARE YOU? Ahahaha. I kid, I kid. Thank you for your splenderifical review, I'm glad a genius like yourself has recognized my own. Our brilliance shadows the world in its (for it is indeed a corporeal being) wonder…Now Kage, love, I only call you Motslaur in light of my deep personal attachment to you, it is a tone of affectionment, not belittlement. (Look at me sound all smurt and fancy.) And yet again has laziness succumb me and I have been forced to resort to more alternative methods of communication with you...(p.s. Recommend me some good HP fanfiction, and NO not your Anita Blake one.)