Fairy Tale

Aiden POV - Gran 757

I had been in a nice room, if I had to be objective, but I wasn't inclined to be such. I supposed I should be grateful that my captor, Prince Gandolf, hadn't raped me at the first opportunity. Of course, he planned on forcing me into marriage and then raping me, since I would never consent, so I wasn't sure… well, no, I really should be grateful that hadn't happened to be, even if there was a 'yet' at the end of the sentence. I was just being irritable. My 'being irritable' is actually what caused me to be taken from that objectively-nice room and thrown into the dungeons. I supposed they assumed that being down here would break me into submission or something. Though, since I had heard someone was visiting, it could have simply been to hide me. It was impossible to know; it wasn't like anyone told a prisoner anything. I had been left alone after being thrown in.

I sighed, and drew my knees further into my chest, hugging them as I struggled to not cry. I tried to focus on my lessons, the tricks a healer could use to maintain their calm, but I was so miserable that I just couldn't quite manage it. My people were suffering. My knights had perished. I was now a 'distressed damsel', which I hated. Midir was…

My breath caught in my throat at the thought of Midir. He had tried to get me to escape ahead of the assault. He had tried to convince me to run to Sigurd, so that I would be safe. But stupid me had been stubborn. I had refused to leave behind the knights dying to protect me, and I had refused to leave him. Now look at everything that had happened. My knights and Midir were dead and some of them might have… Midir might have survived if he hadn't had to focus on protecting helpless me. Helpless, stupid me...

Once, I trained to be a knight. But a few years ago, I had chosen to leave to become a healer instead, believing that the path would lead me to Brigid, my twin sister, my other half. I believed that I could be a beacon of comfort to my people, and a guiding light for her. So, when it came to battle, I was all but helpless because I no longer quite remembered the training I'd been through. I had focused so much on learning how to heal, from staves to medicines, that I had no room in my head for the tricks and drills. My people paid for that selfishness. My knights and dear Midir had paid for it.

So, all I could do was cry. I had no way to escape from here. Even if I did somehow break out of this cell and slip out of the castle, I had no idea where I was, really. I didn't know Verdane's geography at all. There were no knights left in Grannvale who could stage a rescue for helpless, idiotic, pathetic me. Well, Sigurd might try, but I hoped he wouldn't. Chalphy had even less soldiers than Jungby stationed there at the moment. He'd just get himself killed. And if I caused Sigurd's death… gods, just take my life as well so that I wouldn't have to live with such guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" A gentle voice made me look up, very confused at the sudden noise. It took a moment to find the source, mostly because the source was outside the tiny little window that let light and air through was high above my head. "You… probably didn't want anyone to see you crying," the person continued, smiling hesitantly. The woman, really. She was beautiful with amethyst eyes and silver hair. I half-wondered if she could be a fairy, like from those stories Ethlyn loved so much. "This is a cramped room, though."

"Well, it's not intended to be comfortable," I replied slowly, thrown out of my self-pity spiral. It was like she didn't realize this was a dungeon. "What… are you doing?"

"Oh, I sneak into the castle grounds often to pick apples from the tree near here. They're quite good and they always have far too many." She brought one up by her face to show me, and I did have to admit that it looked good. "Do you want one?"

"I… sure?" I made myself stand up and I walked under the window. It was barely large enough to slip something through. "Um…"

"Okay, here!" She reached her arm in and dropped it, giggling when I caught it. "They're very good. Always cheer me up."

"I see." Cautiously, I took a bit, and I had to admit that she was right. It was very good. "I suppose my crying was loud."

"It wasn't loud, but the best apple tree is right by here." She pointed to the side to something completely out of sight. "Hey, would you like a story, miss?"

"I… yes." This was absolutely bizarre, and yet, I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I would."

"Let's see… oh, I'll tell you my favorite."

As I ate the apple, slowly so that I could enjoy it, the woman (fairy? spirit?) told me a very beautiful story. It talked of a princess who was fair and wise, beloved by all. Yet one day, and evil sorcerer appeared, cursing the lands and threatening to kill the people if the princess was not given to him. Reluctantly, the princess gave herself up, unable to think of any other way to protect her people and so remained trapped within a tall, dark tower until the day of her forced wedding. But before that could happen, a knightly prince from a foreign land rode forth, declaring that he would defeat the sorcerer and save the princess. After countless trials, the prince did succeed, saving the princess from her tragic fate. The two were wed, properly, and they lived happily ever after. It was the normal sort of fairy tale, but there was something heartwarming about it, even though the way she told the story… she just seemed lonely. It would explain why she would talk so much with a total stranger trapped in a dungeon.

So, when she finished, I made sure to smile. "Thank you," I told her. The apple had been fully devoured, and I wiped my hands on my dress in an attempt to clean them. "Those remind me to tales from my home."

"Oh, where are you from?" she asked, almost eager. It was like she was desperate for interaction. "Is it pretty?"

"Jungby is beautiful." I smiled sadly as I thought of how much damage it had likely suffered. Yet, I couldn't help but be happy, thinking of my home. "It is very, very beautiful."

So, I told her about it. I told her of how hard our farmers worked. I babbled about how dedicated our knights were. I talked about my family and friends. I ended up focusing on Sigurd a lot. I didn't have any sad or frustrated memories associated with him, as I did with my family, and I didn't want to tell this girl anything sad. She had told me a story with a happy ending, and it didn't escape me how I could easily have been the 'princess' in the story could be me. So, I told her some of my happiest, and silliest, memories.

"I'm sure your friend will come and save you," the girl told me when I had to stop. My throat was dry and there was no water. "He sounds like the prince in my story!"

"He does, doesn't he?" I laughed, feeling a bit better. Though, Sigurd had never fit the word 'prince' to me. Perhaps it was because I associated the word with Prince Kurth, but Sigurd was too reckless, too open, to be a prince. "He's more of a knight, though."

"Your knight in shining armor?"

"...Not just mine." I closed my eyes, easily imagining him. "He's a knight of the people, driving forward with a light that pierces the fiercest of darkness." When my mother died… when my stepmother died… when Brigid disappeared on the ship… no matter what sort of tragedy hit me, big or small… always, Sigurd was right there with a smile, ready to lend me a shoulder or make me laugh, depending on what I wanted. He had actually been the first to suggest that Brigid might've survived. 'Just think of how lucky Ullur's blood is!', he had said. That had given me the hope I had needed, the hope I still hold onto. "I'm always fretting over him because he just leaps into trouble."

"Then I am definitely sure he'll come and save you." She squeaked then, and scrambled to her feet. "Ah, there's a guard, so I need to leave."

"Yes, please, stay safe!" I couldn't bear it if yet another person was hurt because of me and my selfishness. "Thank you."

"For what?" She sounded genuinely confused. "Here, I'll drop you a couple more apples."

She dropped them quickly and then escaped. I listened fearfully for any sound that would hint she had been discovered. But there was only silence. So, I prayed that she had escaped. Surely the gods would bless such a kind woman. ...They were probably cross with me for being so rude, though. I forgot to ask her name, or give her mine. So, I also prayed I would see her again, so that I could thank her a little more properly.

I remained in the dungeons for many days, though now I knew it was because Prince Jamke, Prince Gandolf's younger brother, was visiting and he feared Prince Jamke would take me away. I sighed at the thought, not looking forward to the idea of going from one forced marriage to another. Life wasn't a fairy tale, after all, where the 'princess' fell in love with her 'rescuer' and lived happily ever after with them. So, instead, I simply did my best to maintain what dignity I could hold onto. Speaking with that girl had helped me greatly with steeling my nerves. I knew I would need it, as soon as Prince Gandolf got his hands on me.

That wasn't to say my time in the dungeon was completely terrible. It was dry and clean, and a couple days after I was thrown in here, a sweet young boy by the name of Dew was thrown into the cell across from me, for stealing some trinkets from Prince Gandolf.

"So, seriously, someone needs to redecorate the entire place," Dew babbled. He would talk about the most random things, all to make me laugh. "It's all 'oh, look at me, I am a big strong warrior who thinks crying is for sissies and that my ability to kill things is special and important'. Congratulations, you have the same ability as a rock. Or a tree. Or a particularly dedicated duck."

"A duck?" I repeated, unable to keep from laughing. Dew grew up here in Marpha, so he knew the city and people well. This was also, apparently, not his first time stealing from the castle. It just happened to be the first time he was caught. I couldn't approve of stealing, or the danger he put himself in, but… "Seriously?"

"Have you not met a duck? They're vicious ba… buggers." He grinned at me, and I giggled, trying to imagine it. They always seemed so peaceful on the lakes. "That's a pretty smile! I was a bit worried. You were crying when you woke up."

"Oh, no, did I wake you?" That was embarrassing. "I'm sorry."

"No, you didn't wake me, but hey, I'd rather you did than cry alone. Is that a noble thing, thinking you should cry alone?" He crossed his legs and leaned forward as much as the bars would allow. "So, what's wrong?"

"It's… it's nothing, Dew." Still, my eyes pricked with tears. "I just dreamed of Midir."

"Midir?"

"My… my bodyguard." Midir had been officially my bodyguard for five years. I had known him for a bit longer, about seven, since Father had wanted us to get to know each other and make sure there was no conflict in personalities. I had been in love with him for six years. "He died."

"Did he?"

"I'm sure he did." I closed my eyes, tears trickling down my face as I remembered the last time I had seen him. Gandolf had ripped through him, and still, Midir had tried to reach me. Bleeding profusely, he had tried to stand and grab me as Gandolf dragged me away, before collapsing in a pool of his own blood. Even then, he had reached for me. The sight of his hand falling to the ground, coated in his own blood, haunted my nightmares. "Those wounds…"

"But did you see the body? Did you check for his pulse?" Dew smiled warmly, as bright as the sun. It was, honestly, almost as bright as Sigurd's smile. "If such a nice lady like you cares so much about him, then I'm sure he's still alive. Won't leave you behind to cry and all."

"That's… that's sweet of you to say." But I was a healer, and I knew Father had taken the most skilled healers with him. There was supposed to be a skilled one in town, but skilled enough to save Midir? Perhaps if she had Vala blood or something to boost her magical strength, but the thought was ridiculous. Things wouldn't be that convenient. This wasn't a story, where everything had to make sense and go 'right'. "I suppose it won't matter anyway. Once Prince Gandolf…"

"Man, I wish I had a better angle. I'd pick these locks easy and get you out of here." Dew scowled and then tilted his head. "Oh, lovely. People."

"Oh?" I moved closer to the bars and peered down the hall to see Dew was correct. Perhaps more importantly, it was a young man I didn't know, wearing a bandana and leather armor that was deceptive in how good it was. I only recognized its quality because it was an archer's armor, and despite not using one, I was of Jungby. But the quality just meant this was someone very high up… "Uh oh." That meant trouble. So, I quickly pushed myself as far back into the darkest corner as I could, hoping that perhaps the man wouldn't see me.

It was, of course, a fool's hope. The man walked right up to my cell, ignoring Dew completely, and looked right at me. He studied me closely before holding up a set of keys. "Well, miss, you have two options," he explained. "You can marry my brother in two hours or you can escape. Which would you like?"

"Pardon?" I asked, startled. That… hadn't been what I expected. "And who, exactly, are you to even offer such a choice?"

"Jamke." ...He was Prince Gandolf's youngest brother? Clearly, he took after a different parent than Prince Gandolf. "So?"

"I…" I almost leapt at the chance, but I looked past him at Dew. Dew grinned and mouthed 'go on! Get away!', but that only steeled my resolve. "I won't leave without Dew."

"Who?"

"Dew." I pointed to Dew, and was amused by his stunned look. "He's my friend, and I do not know the layout of the land at all. I will need help even after leaving the castle grounds."

"That… all right, fine." Prince Jamke sighed, but unlocked us both. "Okay, thief-boy. You'll escort her east, okay?"

"East?" Dew repeated, jumping to his feet. After a split-second of thought, he snapped his fingers and nodded. "Oh, right, there were rumors about some Sigurd fellow leading an army from that direction. I heard something about him trying to save a friend? Which is ridiculous, but you know..."

All sound washed away at the name. Sigurd. Sigurd was leading an army. He was leading an army to save me. It was one of the most reckless things he'd ever done, right up there with running into a burning building to save Ethlyn and Lachesis, and I was so, so angry at him. Yet I was also so, so relieved because he really was coming to help me, just like that girl had said. I was happy because if we made it, I'd get to see my best friend again, and I'd get to cry on his shoulder about the living hell that this has been, and about Midir.

It was only after that rush of emotion that I started paying attention again, just as Prince Jamke was sighing. "Yes, yes, and this Sigurd is strong," he noted, his tone somewhere between admiring and irritated. "He's killed one of my brothers and is apparently marching on Genoa as we speak. If he hasn't already taken it." I wondered how Sigurd managed that. He had only three knights with him, last that I recalled. "So…"

"Prince Jamke, can you not speak to your father or your brothers?" I asked, looking at him as beseechingly as I could. It was rude to interrupt, but if Sigurd truly was near, then… "I promise Sigurd will gladly hear any peace talk."

"That's a bold thing to promise," Prince Jamke replied, turning to focus on me. Dew winked, grinning about something. "Not something to lightly-"

"Sigurd is my best friend. I have known him all of my life. He is reckless, foolish, passionate, yet he is also the kindest and gentlest person I have ever met." I half-glared, annoyed at the (unintentional) insult at Sigurd. "So, I know that Sigurd will work through any peace talks. He's only fighting because I'm here. So, if you can convince your family and army to stand down, I know this will end quickly and quietly."

"...Wait, so we really are dealing with a man who's fighting a war, and winning, to…" Prince Jamke looked so confused before sighing again. "I yield to you. But first, we need to actually get you out of here. Dew, you can help by listening and scouting ahead."

"Thank you!" I smiled as brightly as I could, relieved. I also had to keep from laughing at how much of a 'fairy tale ending' this became. "Let's go, Dew!" The 'princess' would be rescued after all.

I really hoped I could meet that girl again, so that I could tell her she was right. I'd like to thank her with tea and sweets, and talk a little more. It would be fun.

Author's notes: So, here's Aideen's POV mostly during the events of Game-Chapter 1 (Chapters… we'll say between Chapters 2 and 3 in Memoirs of the Holy War or thereabouts). I mentioned in Memoirs of the Holy War that Aideen had a brief encounter with Deirdre, so I thought it would be fun to show that, as well as the start of her friendship with Dew. Dew cheering Aideen up is inspired by a similar scene in the Fujimori manga, as is Aideen being in a 'nice room' before being thrown into the dungeons.