Nixiesocean: Here's the deal: I'm going on vaca for two weeks starting this Friday. I'm giving you peeps an extra-long chapter to read. Aren't I the greatest? (grin). So, I give you chapter 16, and it's a more humorous chapter, because I introduce "the frog" of the story…
Responses:
Bingo7: Yes. Very pretty. Big, lean, muscled, golden lion.
Piratess of Summer: He's not really a jerk. Just wanting to get his own goals accomplished. (grin). Besides, if the lion said, "sure, let me take you to Marcus right now!" there wouldn't be a story! Ah, yes, Renold. The protective guardian of Mercy. He's balanced, I suppose. His urge to protect and his kindness is offset by the fact that he often blames himself for other's actions, like Mercy escaping! (P.S. of course I jumped onto the plot!)
Nyght Mustique: I promise to keep the boredom away. I don't know how well I'll fair in a 1.5 hour layover in Detriot… anyways… I hope you like this chapter.
FaylinnNorse: Yup. Animals love blackmailing girls. You'll find out what's up with the lion by the end of the story. (wink). I love Renold too. He's kind of like my brother.
x-baby.doll-x: Yes. I enjoy torturing my readers. Mostly because my friend hates it when I leave cliffhangers and refuse to tell her what's up with the next chapter.
Lacrymose: I really don't listen to Linkin Park. Ah, yes, I art a cruel mistress. (big laugh). And I art good at English.
I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 16: I Declare You In Love!
"What?" Mercy sat upright. "You know where Marcus is? Take me to him! Now!"
The lion regarded her with little surprise, again. "I cannot."
"Cannot or will not?" She retorted.
He did a sort-of lion-shrug. "Both. Come with me, maiden." He turned to the now-opening doors. "You are my servant."
Mercy laughed. "I get it. I'm your prisoner. Take me to Marcus, and I'll serve you."
"We discussed this already." He turned around and swept her up in a great paw. "What is your name, lost maid?"
"Mercy." She said with little emotion.
"Well, then, Maiden Mercy, welcome to my service." He stepped through the gate, and they didn't shut, as Mercy had half-expected them to do so.
- - - - - - - - -
Lieutenant Miller looked away from his view to turn toward his newest underling. The door was shut, and the small office began to warm up. "I should say, Smithson, that I'm surprised to see you here." The guardsman shrugged. "I thought you had chosen 'Royal Guard' over wall duty."
He had been there. The other guard sighed. "You were there, Miller." He looked out involuntarily toward the Royal Forest. "I had no choice in the matter."
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You're more sensitive toward this matter than ever, Renold." Lieutenant Miller followed Renold's gaze, "Though I daresay you are more worried about our third escapee than you should be."
Renold flinched at the verbal accusation. "You would be just as worried if you had guarded the same person for ten years."
He was turned, as Miller was taller, stronger and more built than himself. "That's not the way I meant it, Renold." Their eyes met. "Let it go, man. You're a commoner. She's royalty."
He ripped out of his superior's grip. "When do I start, sir?"
But the lieutenant pursued. "Why did you allow yourself to? You knew – even at fifteen – that it could never be, why?" The look in the eyes of his former sparring partner chilled him to the bone. He swallowed. "Speak to me, soldier."
"This has nothing to do with my duty."
"It has everything to do with your duty! I don't want you running toward the princess the instant she comes into view!"
"Sir, I require my schedule, and then I will perform my duties, as assigned." Renold met his eyes again, this time with more force behind them.
Lieutenant Miller sighed. "You begin wall duty tomorrow at daybreak. East side." The west was toward the forest.
"Yes, sir." Renold replied. "Permission to leave?"
"Granted." The officer turned away from Guardsman Smithson. "Come to terms with it yourself, Smithson." He heard the door shut – with more force than required.
- - - - - - - - -
Renold sat on his bunk in the barracks. So far he had endured taunts, jests and everything else from the newer guards who had heard of his inescapable reputation. He laughed dryly. Mercy would call it a "double entendre".
It was dusk, and the other off-duty men had gone to the city. His eyes focused on a crack in the wall, and he followed it to the ceiling.
He sighed and rubbed his head, running his fingers through inch-long blond hair.
Every time his eyes closed, he saw her. He saw her straight black hair, pinned up with a few strands escaping all the time. He saw her bright green eyes. He saw her lightly tanned skin, from the escapes into the fields. He saw her crying at the river. He saw her shivering form as he placed her onto Winter's Chill. He even saw her furious eyes as she had commanded him to call her by her name.
Renold looked back into every memory of Mercy in his collection. He saw her trying to outrun him, when she was nine. He saw her bolting out her room at eleven. He saw her hiding between the shelves of the library at thirteen. He saw her trip and fall over a voluminous gown at sixteen, and he remembered looking her directly into her eyes for the first time, just then. He saw her eyes as she saw Her Highness Hannah with Prince Marcus as they strolled along the gardens one day, how angry they had been, and then she turned them onto him.
He had noticed a sparkle behind her eyes, and had ignored it. He sharply breathed inward. He then remembered something else someone had said as he had walked to the barracks:
Bavar's ready to invade. Our king has been allowed one week from today to produce Princess Hannah!
Is it possible? He asked himself, the walls of the barracks seemingly melding into nothingness. That Bavar would invade? That Mercy would love me? That Unuquat would allow the invasion of Hanor? His thoughts were jumbled. He stood and paced the spare room between bunks.
Just then, a messenger burst into the barracks, red-faced, panting and covered in sweat. "Guardsman! The king demands you in his study!"
- - - - - - - - -
The lion required everything from combing his mane to gathering firewood from the ever-full stack just outside the servant's door. The day after she had been "saved" by him, he allowed her freedom to walk in the gardens until the sun set. It had been about midday.
Happily, she ran out the gates and strolled along in the garden. She bathed herself in the sunlight, but couldn't ignore the fact that she was a captive, and no closer to rescuing Marcus from the horrible lion's grasp.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a pond that the small creek flowed in and out of. She smiled and ran over to it. The sky never changed. It was still pure blue, with no clouds in the sky. It was never overcast, and the only thing that ever changed was the rising and setting of the sun.
She sighed, all happiness draining away. She still had a lost brother, and a lost friend. She looked across the pond and spotted a frog, under a lean-to tent, with a small red petal on its head. It seemed to be trapped on the small frog-sized island.
A tear slipped out of her eye and fell into the pond, producing ripples. The frog's head jerked upward. It hopped out of the tent and sat by the edge of its bar-less cage.
"Why so sad, princess?" She blinked, unsure of how it knew her heritage. The talking frog was low on her list of unknowns, as the lion had already spoken.
"Why shouldn't I be sad?" Mercy wailed. "My brother's in that vile lion's clutches, my friend is missing, my mother is angry with me, I'm the servant of an animal, I'm no closer to finding Marcus than yesterday, the lion is making cook dinner – even though I told him I don't know how to, and the man I love is–" She gasped, and held her hands to her mouth.
I don't love him!
A small part of her spoke up, or do you? It asked.
The frog cocked its head. "I can fix the cooking." It told her. "Whenever the lion demands something you cannot do, run to me and I'll help. My price is for you to bring me a new rose petal every time you need help. They're getting hard to find here on my island."
Mercy rubbed her nose. "But… can't you just hop off?"
It sighed. "I cannot. If I do, well… I'll tell you about it later." It hopped about. "Now, about this man." Mercy noted that the frog's voice was high, but more of a tenor's. It wasn't as deep or rumbling as the lion's.
"Are you male?" She asked suddenly.
It seemed offended. "Me? Male! Ha!" It waved an offended arm. "I am no bulky male!"
"Fine, female." Mercy amended. "Forgive me, lady frog."
She smiled. "I forgive you, dear. Now, about this man you love."
Mercy sighed. "That we cannot talk about."
The frog gave her a wide smile, made wider by the already large frog's face. "Ah, bleed out the poison, princess."
The princess of Hanor looked away. "I'm not sure I even love him."
She heard a croak and looked back at the frog. "How long do you go without thinking of him?"
Mercy blushed. "An hour."
"And how long have you known this young man?"
"Ten years."
"And how often do you wish this man could marry you?"
Mercy laughed. "Often enough for it to be a pest."
"Do your thoughts always lead back to him, although you may be thinking about something entirely different, such as the lion in the palace, your brother or money?"
She smiled. "Of course."
The frog slapped the water, "Then, my fine young lady, I declare you in love!"
Mercy looked toward the sky, and saw lines of orange, red, purple, pink and yellow than even the finest painter in Hanor would envy. "Thank you, frog." She reached toward the nearest rose, and plucked off a petal, nicking a finger on the thorn.
Smiling playfully, the princess set it in the water, leaned down and blew it towards the frog's island. The frog released a throaty laugh. Mercy stood and walked, more comforted and slightly happier than before, ready to confront the lion.
- - - - - - - - -
The lion yawned, the rumble echoing off the walls. His servant had just entered, after her half-day off. She curtsied with her hands pretending to hold a skirt as she entered, something he had demanded of her.
"Ah," He sighed as she came over and rubbed his back, scratching behind his ear. Involuntarily, he began to purr. "I will not require much of you, maiden." He turned on his back as she continued to scratch.
She smiled. "Will you take me to Marcus today?"
He bent his neck to look his servant. "I cannot, I told you that." She nodded, although he saw a touch of sadness. "Mercy," He began and she met his eyes hopefully, "Take tonight off, and tomorrow until dusk. I cannot bear to see you so sad."
She stood and brushed the gold and tawny hairs off her breeches. "Thank you, lion."
He gave her a weak smile. "Bring me a fruit pie for dinner tomorrow, that is all I require." She curtsied again and left his presence in the great hall. He rubbed his back more on the couch and fell asleep.
- - - - - - - - -
Mercy plucked a rose petal as she walked to the pond and lay down. The frog gave her a smile. She set in the water and blew it to the island.
"It isn't a new day." The frog protested.
"Ah, but I am far happier than I have felt since I was young." Mercy grinned at the small amphibian.
"And why is that, dear? Did you convince yourself you love this young man?"
Her smile fell as she remembered how worried Renold would be about her. She suddenly felt very guilty for not telling him where she was going. "No… the lion released me until tomorrow night." She frowned slightly. "He wants a fruit pie."
"And you can't cook," The frog stated simply.
Mercy laughed lightly, "Correct."
"Bring me the fruit, apparently our furry feline doesn't care what fruit, and I shall make the pie for you."
Mercy was taken aback, "You can cook?"
The frog laughed, "I know, I know, a talking frog that can cook. Amazing isn't it? Ah, this garden does wondrous things for one!"
"Can it show me Marcus?"
"It is." The frog whispered. "Your Marcus is this garden. Don't you understand? He's the prince of your land; he has an unavoidable connection with your country, far more than your parents. He's as wild as the lands he loves so dearly." Mercy gaped. "And it took a very foreign girl to tame him, because no one that lived near could relate. Your Hannah loves her native lands very much, but your country is newer, it holds more secrets, and that's why she wants to stay."
Mercy sat back, "You do realize how cliché that sounds?"
The frog shrugged, "It's what I believe."
"How do you know Marcus? And Hannah?" Mercy pestered.
The frog laughed, "That, my dear, will have to wait."
Mercy stood, very angry. "What is it that you two hide? The lion will not explain why he cannot take me to Marcus, and you will not explain how you know me, Marcus and Hannah!" She spun on a booted heel and walked away.
Mercy heard a loud sigh. "I do not revoke my offer of help."
- - - - - - - - -
Review, please! I love writing this story, through all the twists and turns it takes.
I will try and update when I am back from my trip (to Germany!) but I expect reviews!
Auf Wiedersehen,
Nixie