For Love of Magic, For Magic of Love
By Mistress Dawnstar
Summary: Would you commit the ultimate sin? What if by doing so you may save the man you love? What is the price of your soul?
Author's Note: First of all, my apologies. I know I promised that I'd update way before now, but things started to happen in my life and I never found the time. So sorry. Ducks the rotten tomatoes.
That aside, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it guys! They really inspire me to continue to write, so thanks again. (Answers to select reviews are at the end of chapter.)
Finally, enjoy this chapter!
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Ch. 3 – Royal Dilemmas
"Ouch!" Anoira groaned. She leaned against a nearby tree and gazed forlornly down at her feet. "No one has ever told me that walking would hurt so much." She lamented.
She paused dramatically, as if waiting for an answer. All that she received for her troubles was a raucous birdcall. She sighed, "Well, now I know that the scribes who wrote about the wonders and excitement of adventure were bumbling idiots who obviously had no first-hand experience and therefore had no idea what they were talking about."
She paused and then added sorrowfully, "This is what I get for believing in everything that I read. I must have walked for miles." Her stomach growled as if to underscore her statement.
Anoira clutched her stomach. "Oh, I'm starving and thirsty and hot and tired and sore and…" The pitch of her voice rose into a truly undignified whine. She finally finished her tirade with "…and I want my magic back." She fell silent, leaning against the tree and panting hard (Hey, it wasn't easy to fit her entire rant onto one measly breath).
She would have stayed in that state of self-pity for the entire day if it weren't for a second growl in her stomach, which reminded her of more pressing concerns.
Water first, she decided, and then she'll find a place to eat and sleep. It was safer to sleep during the day and move during the night, since her father would probably have people out looking for her. Despite her self-lamentations, the last thing she wanted was to be brought back to her father.
"Let's see now," she said; it was comforting to hear the sound of her own voice. "According to my geography lessons, this road follows the rivers, so there should be water not too far from here." She perked up her ears and listened. Sure enough, underneath the rustling and sighing forest sounds, there was the faint burbling of water.
Now, all she had to do was to find it. She closed her eyes to visualize a map of the area, for the first time thankful for her stern geography teacher. If she wasn't too lightheaded from hunger and fatigue to remember correctly, then the river should be …um…to her left.
With her eyes still closed, she took a step in the leftward direction…only to run smack-dab into a tree branch. "Ouch!" She groaned and glared at the offending tree, as if it were somehow its fault for growing in her path.
Rubbing the sore spot on her head and cursing under her breath (using words that a princess should not have known), she tried again, this time careful to keep her eyes open and to duck under the branch.
After several more minutes of further effort, she was rewarded by the welcoming sight sparkling water.
"Well, its about time!" Anoira exclaimed. She rushed forward eagerly, paying no attention to the ground underneath her feet – a mistake. As it turned out, Anoira tripped over a mole and went flying into the river.
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Yes, a mole, I kid you not.
Call it fate or karma (or maybe just the crazed imagination of the author), but at that very moment, a mole, who'd been innocently tunneling underneath the riverbanks, decided to come up for some fresh air. And the place where the mole popped up just happened to be in front of Anoira's foot as she rushed towards the river.
Now, in real life, something like have one to ten million chance of happening, but unfortunately for the hapless Anoira, she was not in real life, but in a fairy tale where stranger things that a foot to mole collision happen on a regular basis.
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So it was that Anoira was sent flying headfirst into the chilly river water – not a good position to be in, given that she never learned how to swim.
Anoira flailed around wildly, struggling to hold her head above and struggling to escape the swift river current, though her effort did little more than simply tiring herself out. She barely held back a sob of fear and desperation as her water soaked clothes threatened to drag her down. There was nothing she could do but to struggle gamely onwards.
Exhausted, Anoira felt herself being dragged into the depth of the river once more. This time she did not even have the strength to resist. I'm going to die, she thought, too tired even to panic. Some fisherman will find my body someplace down the river. I'll probably not even be recognizable at that point. Fishermen will forever tell the story of the mysterious woman who met her lonely end in this miserable river…
Anoira's train of morbid thought was suddenly cut short by two brilliant realizations – firstly, her head was still above the water and secondly, her feet were touching solid ground. To her chagrin, Anoira suddenly discovered a crucial fact, the river was not as deep as she thought it was. In fact, she could stand comfortable with the water lapping her chin.
Anoira didn't have time to stand around feeling embarrassed. She was tired from struggling with the river and though the water was not deep, the current was swift and sure. No, she could not afford to stand around the chilly water. Wearily, she floundered to shore and staggered into the shade of a forest giant.
With only her hunger and her practicality keeping her from falling asleep there and then, she began to take stock of herself – no bones broken, muscles sore but still functional, clothing, the uniform and the fur cloak, soaked, ripped, and muddy, but that's fine with the role that she was currently playing, and she wasn't thirsty anymore. All in all, it could have been worse. Her stomach growled once more and her optimistic mood vanished immediately. She was starved.
Speaking of food…her eyes widened in sudden realization. She looked around; she had managed to keep hold of her little pack of belongings and bring it to shore, but to her dismay, all the food – the bread, cheese, and meat – were rendered completely inedible by the river water.
Anoira felt like crying and despite reminding herself that a princess was supposed to be strong and hold back tears, a few soft sobs escaped her. After all, she wasn't a princess anymore, was she? Tears fell like rain, landing on her clothes and mingling with the river water. Anoira had reached the low point of her young life.
Miraculously, the small, battered chest that Lady Byntina had given her had escaped harm. Its contents, including the three dresses, the mask, the belt, and the three golden baubles, were dry and intact.
Clutching this one last treasure, Anoira curled up into a miserable ball, and at last cried herself to sleep.
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"Your Highness, your father wants you." The speaker was a slender young man with neatly cropped black hair. He was dressed in a simple but well made dark blue tunic and comfortable black pants. The manner in which he spoke was mild and the way that he leaned against the armory door was casual, but the seriousness in his gray eyes belied his nonchalance. His slender hands hung at his side, the ink stains faint, but noticeable, forming a strange contrast to the sword calluses on his palms.
The recipient of the message, a young man of similar age, grunted in reply. He sat on one of the old oaken benches scattered around the room, polishing the sword in his lap. His head was bent in concentration, with his thick mane of yellow hair falling like a curtain around his face, hiding his expression from view.
The man at the door coughed delicately, "He said it was urgent, Your Highness."
"Isn't it always." The man on the bench said resentfully. "And you don't have to be so formal with me, cousin; I get enough of that from my parents and the rest of those dull geezers they consider advisors." He set his sword aside and stood. He was a powerful man, taller and broad shouldered than his cousin. His tunic, stretched tightly across his chest, showed off his muscles to the best advantage as he moved.
Other than a small smile, the man at the door kept his expression neutral. "Since it was your father, the King, who sent the message, I thought it best to relay it correctly." Tactfully, he decided not to comment on the last part.
The prince swiped his hair away from his face, revealing a pair of baby blues eyes and rugged good looks. He flashed his companion a quick smile, one that has many of the young ladies at court swooning in his wake. "Well, what does he want, Lanston? What is it that I've done now?"
The young man at the door, Lanston being his name, shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure, although it could be a number of things. Just this week, you have already…"
The prince cut him off hastily, "That last was a rhetorical question. I don't need a lecture on my duties as a prince, since I'm probably on my way to one, right now." He squared his shoulders. "Well, I might as well get it over with." He strolled out the doorway and into the halls, his stride firm and determined.
Lanston fell into step beside his cousin. "You know, Casp, if you'd just pay a little more attentions to your royal duties, you'd seriously cut back on the number of talks you have with your parents."
"I do pay attention to my duties. I attend petitioner's court every week, don't I?"
"Where you never pay attention."
"Of course, I do."
"Fine. Name one decision that the King made in the last session."
"Um…well…"
"You could at least pretend to be paying attention." Lanston said in a long-suffering tone.
"I do."
"Right. Last time, you put your head down and went to sleep. You snored through the entire thing. Real subtle."
The Prince appeared chagrined but unrepentant. "I couldn't help it. Some of the speakers were right old bores and they never talk about anything important. Just last week, one man rambled on for an hour about the price of wheat and the second one took even longer to complain about his neighbor's pigs. I can't even begin to keep it all in my head."
Lanston sighed, "It is important. The first was a farmer. The land in his area didn't do so well this year and his taxes are due. At this point, the taxes would really hit the families in that area hard and could possibly ruin them. He petitioned for tax relief. The second petition concerns a long time feud between two families, a very bloody feud, I might add. They've held onto an uneasy peace for a couple of years now and it is important to ensure that the fighting doesn't resume."
Prince Caspian grinned sheepishly. "Was that really it? And here was I thinking that they were too cheap to build fences."
Lanston groaned and buried his face in his hands. "And it's tactless remarks like those that get you into even more trouble." His voice was slightly muffled by his hands.
"What tactless remarks? I'm hurt. I never make tactless remarks."
"Oh? What about the time when you told Lady Talsina that her lapdog looked like a skinless weasel and offered to shoot it to put it out of its misery."
"Hey, it was the truth!"
"What about the time you told Lady Giselle that each of her daughters were uglier than the last and that you wouldn't touch them with a ten foot pole?"
"That woman is so determined that I should marry one of her daughters that she's scary. I had to say something to get her off my back."
"What about the time when you told the ambassador from Roth that the priceless painting that he was presenting as a gift to your father looked like it had been drawn by his six-year-old grandson."
"Oops, did I really say that out loud?"
Lanston scowled suspiciously at his cousin's too innocent face. "Don't joke around. This is serious. We almost went to war over that incident."
Caspian sighed, "I suppose that you're right. I am really trying, but, by the gods, I'm just not made out for this ruling business. It should have been you who was born the heir, not me. I mean, you actually like doing this stuff, you know listening to people's problems and deciding how to make everyone happy." He smiled brightly as a sudden thought hit him. "Hey, why don't I abdicate? That would make you the heir. Since you've been doing my job for me ever since I can remember, it wouldn't really make that much difference."
Lanston looked horrified, "And hoist all those gold-digging mothers and daughters off on me? Not a chance." His face regained its serious cast. "Really, you were the one who was born heir. You have a duty to the kingdom. You can't just abdicate for a silly reason like that."
The prince sighed again, "I know, but you really would make a better king than I would. Oh well, wistful thinking. So, what does my father want again?"
Lanston shook his head. "I don't know, but are you sure you didn't do anything particularly awful lately? I've never seen the King so angry."
"Um…is it worse than the time when I flood the west wing of the palace so that my friends and I could replay historical sea battles?"
"Worse."
"Oh, shit." Caspian cursed as a sudden thought struck him.
"What do you mean by that?" Lanston asked, sounding suspicious.
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all." Caspian said airily, "Oh, look, we're here. Let's go in and get it over with."
With a frown and reminder to himself to press his cousin further at a more convenient time, Lanston knocked lightly on the door that they had arrived at, the door to the king's private study.
A muffled "Come in" issued from within. Lanston eased open the door. "Your majesty, it's me and Caspian." He opened the door further so that Caspian could pass through.
King Philip put away the petition he had been studying and focused his piercing blue gaze on his son and nephew. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for Lanston to close the door.
"Caspian, do you know what you've done?" He asked coldly.
Caspian squirmed under his father's stern gaze. For some reason, his father could always make him feel like a misbehaving child. "Um…no?" He offered.
"Well, let me jog your memory. This morning, a certain Lady Lydien paid me a visit with some rather interesting news. Want to guess what that was?"
"Um…no?"
"Well, it appears that I'm about to become a grandfather, even before my son becomes a husband." King Philip slammed his fists down on the arms of his chair, making both the young men jump. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"You got Lydien pregnant?" Lanston hissed to Caspian. "What happened to the protection charm that my father gave you?" Lanston's father was not only the king's young brother, but also the royal mage. "It should have prevented you from getting any of your little dalliances pregnant."
"I ah…lost it last week when I was hunting." Caspian whispered back, keeping his voice quiet enough so that his father couldn't hear him. "I was going to ask for another one, but I forgot. I didn't think that one time would hurt."
"You idiot!"
"I'm sure that there's nothing that the two of you have to say that can't be heard by me as well." The king said icily, making both young men jump guiltily. "Well?" He addressed his son. "I'm still waiting for your explanation, which I'm sure will be fascinating."
"Well, it was an accident." Caspian said lamely.
"That's pretty obvious, isn't it?" King Philip said coolly. "Everything that you do is by accident. This time, your thoughtless, selfish action have brought the stain of scandal upon our family, our entire kingdom. What I want to know is what you're going to do about it."
"Um…well…" Caspian trailed off, shooting a hopeful glance at his cousin.
Lanston sighed and proceeded to bail his cousin out…again. "Sire, I'm sure the scandal can be averted. No one knows about this except the three of us and Lady Lydien. Lady Lydien's silence can be bought. She will, of course, have to be sent to a remote part of the kingdom so that her pregnancy may run its course, but that can be arranged."
King Philip slammed his fist down again. "That's not what I'm talking about." He roared. "I am disgusted, absolutely disgusted, that my own son would sink to such irresponsible, despicable behavior. Playing around with women of questionable virtue! What is this kingdom coming to? Is this the way a future king should comport himself?"
"Um…I…" The prince began.
The king held up a hand to forestall him. "No, I don't want to hear anymore. I have come to a decision, something that I should have done a long time ago." He pointed an accusatory finger at Caspian. "I want you safely married by the end of the month. Find a woman to marry or else I'll force you to marry Lady Lydien."
"The end of the month!" Caspian exclaimed, "How do you expect me to make such an important decision in just a couple weeks time?"
"Very well, I'll give you three months time. That should be enough time to send out the invitation to your wedding. And heed my words boy, you are going to be married at the end of the third month, even if I have to drag you to the altar in chains." King Philip leaned back in his chair with a complacent smile. "Just to show you that I really do mean for your future happiness, I'll give three balls and invite all the eligible young ladies of the seven kingdoms. Surely, even you could pick out someone from that bunch."
"But I…"
"I want no arguments. The invitations to the balls have already been sent out. You are dismissed."
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Author's Note: So, what did you think? Review, review, and review. And tell me which summary is best. (There's a different one at the beginning of each chapter.)
Review Replies:
kyra-maRia - That would be telling, but this chapter should give you a big hint.
aureusangel - Sorry about the mistakes. I'll fix them as soon as possible. I would make Anoira a little less perfect, but her resemblence to her mother is a major story plop. I'm hoping to put some character flaws in shortly.
darkgem499 - Are you sure? I may still have a few surprises up my sleeves.
Also thanks to Tiger Lily21, biancarobinson, and RockStarGoddess for their reviews.