Chapter 1
Amy had only a few more steps across the marbled courtyard until she reached what promised to be a few hours of delicious freedom. She was hidden behind a stone archway, strategizing the best way to jump the final hurdle between her and that precious goal: open air.
Out in the courtyard, she knew she would be a sitting duck. If she were to be caught running to the training grounds, she was not confident in her ability to come up with a convincing lie.
She wasn't running away to secret knight training! - she would try to explain - she was… well, she was running away to secret knight training.
Amy steeled her breath and opted to run, moving as swiftly as she could despite her skirts and bodice and the heavy jewels dangling from her pink quills. She took off, the gold bracelets on her wrists jangling, her eyes trained on the heavy wooden door leading to freedom, hoping that there was no one around to hear her and -
"My lady?" came a delicate voice, just as Amy passed by the hedges in the garden. She froze.
"Oh, Cream!" She turned mechanically, feigning nonchalance by smoothing her skirts and quills as casually as she could. "What're you doing out here?"
The young rabbit maid was crouched by some hedges, a pile of weeds at her feet, the hem of her brown skirts covered in dirt. She was looking up from a bed of flowers and over her shoulder with amused curiosity at the running Princess.
"Just a little gardening, your majesty…" The girl eyed Amy innocently. "...Pardon me for being so bold, but, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be studying?"
Amy looked into Cream's warm, hazel eyes, feeling her own expression break into one of desperation.
"I've - I've already finished my studying for the day," she began - which wasn't a lie. Amy was a skilled historian - she didn't need the full hour for studying.
She wanted to fight.
"I'm just… doing some hands-on learning," she said, her voice rising conspicuously.
"I see…" Cream said slowly, turning back to her gardening. The young rabbit tossed one last small smile over her shoulder. "Well, better get to your… lesson then."
Amy beamed at the lady in waiting, stopping herself from cheering and drawing more attention. She whirled around and hurried through the heavy wooden door leading to the training arena - finally, freedom in her grasp.
As she entered Amy sighed in relief, relishing the strong smell of dirt, sweat, and metal polish. She smiled looking out at the large arena, now devoid of fighters and spectators for the time being, instead filled with hay targets, racks of weapons, and infinite potential.
"You're late," a growl cut through her bright mood.
"Or you're early," she swung her brilliant stare towards her teacher for the afternoon and smirked. "I made it, Shadow. That's all that matters."
Shadow leaned against the wall next to the door of the changing room, arms crossed, spiny silver helmet by his feet. He stood like a monument - another pillar or beam holding up the walls and the stands of the arena. Though he looked a natural part of the milieu, he was a captivating presence. He was tall and well-built, a hedgehog with black and red spines and blood red eyes. His expression was never anything less than scathing, and Amy could feel his disapproval the minute his gaze fell on her. It didn't bother her much anymore.
When she was young, her personal guard's intensity scared her - intimidated her, really. Now, after so many years, she came to understand that his stoicism was like her anger - a coping mechanism. A byproduct of the world they had both grown up in and the roles they were playing.
"Just a moment," she said, placing a light hand on his shoulder as she strode past the tall, ebony man and into the changing room - usually reserved for the men of the royal army, but empty for now.
Shadow's face betrayed no passion for her lateness as he nodded and looked back out at the arena.
"You know I could be killed for doing this," Shadow said to the empty stands. "You could at least bother to be on time."
"And you know I would never let them, Shadow." Her reassurances came out muffled from behind the door.
Amy began to shimmy out of her many layers of clothing. Despite Shadow's insistence that he wasn't invested in their training sessions, she couldn't help but notice the way that he thoughtfully folded her training clothes for her, left dutifully in the same corner of the changing area every night. He could be cynical, withholding, and quick to judgment, but he was also her diligent, thorough, steadfast caretaker, and he showed it in the small ways he knew how to.
She stepped back out after a moment into the waning daylight in trousers, a blouse, and a red vest - the official color of the Rose Kingdom. In her new clothes, she stretched and breathed deeply, allowing herself to get lost in the freedom offered by the shapeless linen and the empty arena.
Shadow came up quickly in front of her, and she jumped out of instinct.
"Your senses are awake, good." He said, holding her chest plate up to her, nodding for her to hold onto the sides. He walked around to her back to strap her in, and Amy held her breath as he tied her into the armor.
"This thing is so uncomfortable," she grumbled, grunting as he yanked on the leather shoulder straps.
"That's because it's not made for… you. Now be still. If you want to fight, you must acclimate to the feeling of wearing armor. You're lucky I haven't made you train in the full thing yet." He added, turning sharply to take up his sword from where it was leant the weapons rack, fitting his helmet onto his head.
Amy felt her smile return as she summoned her hammer and squared up, stepping out into the expanse of the arena.
Finally, time for what she longed for - a bit of action.
She grinned and beckoned for Shadow to join her as he turned back toward her - she couldn't help but goad him, and he always fell for it.
Shadow became even more serious, if that was possible, as the two settled into their private training session. His sword clashed against the grip of her impossibly large hammer, and they began to sweat through shouted instructions and repeated drills. They fought like this for hours as the sun set and the room grew dark, exchanging nothing but grunts, instructions, and blows.
Occasionally, Shadow would pause, approach her, and explain a maneuver he had pulled, and they would run it through slowly together until she could feel the steps settling in her body. She could swear she saw Shadow's lips tick up in a smile once or twice as they fought, but it was always gone so fast that she could never be sure. Amy on the other hand grinned the whole time. She felt like her most powerful self when fighting - freed from her clothes and her duties and her father's limited understanding of who she was and what she could accomplish. She understood that violence was a tool that should not be taken lightly, but she was born with the gift of a hammer for a reason, and she wanted to use it.
Hours later, Amy laughed triumphantly as she swept her hammer under Shadow's feet, finally sending him crashing forward. He recovered quickly and swept himself onto one knee, facing her. He looked beaten down, breathing heavily. Amy couldn't believe it - she'd won.
"I'm going to make an incredible captain of the guard someday!" She smiled widely and turned away from him to rest her hammer on her shoulder plate as their time to train finally ran out.
"Not if you don't live long enough to become queen."
She heard the malice in his rich voice and the clang of his armor first, and before she could react she felt him pressed against her back. Shadow yanked her to his chest, her arms forced to her sides, and whipped the cold metal of his blade to her throat. She stiffened instinctively against Shadow, hammer disappearing. She was trapped, breathing heavily, his blade on her throat sending shivers down her spine. She tried desperately to still the odd mix of fear and excitement swelling in her chest.
"Cheap trick," she breathed, grinning.
"Villains don't fight fairly, Princess," he quipped in her ear, and pushed her away from him roughly. She almost tripped over her boots, but steadied herself on her re-materialized hammer, kicking up the packed dirt of the arena floor as she did. She gathered herself and turned back to her teacher to say something clever, but words escaped her and she could do nothing but breathe deeply and try to calm her hard-beating heart.
Shadow pulled his visor up to wipe his brow with a hand, sheathing his sword. Their session was officially over.
"A fight is not over until one of the combatants is dead or incapacitated. Never turn your back on a foe. Never." He growled, stepping close to her. "But… you are improving."
"Well, it doesn't feel like improvement when you keep winning," Amy scoffed, turning from him to head into the changing room. But as she walked she was smiling determinedly. She didn't want to call out Shadow's rare compliment, lest she scare him off from ever offering her another one.
"It's my job to win," Shadow said somberly as he pulled his helmet off and dipped a cold cloth into the washbasin to wipe at his sweaty quills. "If I didn't win, you'd be dead ten times over already. It's your job to find a husband." Shadow took up his position leaning against the wall again, tossing the damp rag around his neck. He said it casually, without weight, and turned to look out at the stands thoughtfully.
To other people, Amy's duty was something natural, easy even. But to her it was like a fly buzzing around her head - always present and always annoying.
Amy bristled alone in the changing room at his words. She pulled up her dress and corset, slipping her arms into her sleeves and holding it over her chest.
"You can come in," she called softly.
The small room was almost pitch dark now, moonlight streaming in through only a single rectangular window. She could only hear Shadow enter behind her, his breathing and the musical ringing of his armor giving his position away as he moved towards her. She practiced tracking him through the room as he approached. Shadow touched her shoulder as gingerly as he always did when it came to this part of training, letting her know he was now at her back. She sighed as he took his hand away, feeling the weight of her clothing and her duties settling back on her shoulders in its place.
"You sound like my father when you say things like that," Amy said softly. She took a deep breath in, just in time for Shadow to give a tremendous yank on the strings of her corset. It felt like the opposite of being tied into the armor to her. Both were uncomfortable, but she had chosen to be tied into the breastplate. She wouldn't wish a corset on her worst enemy.
"Our duty is to the kingdom," Shadow said in his rich monotone as his fingers worked the laces on her gown, "I'm only saying what we both know must be done."
"I have known what the reality of my life is for as long as I have lived. I don't need any more reminders," Amy snapped back, a touch of venom in her voice.
"...Forgive me then, your majesty." Shadow cleared his throat as Amy turned to him, now laced back into her finery.
They hesitated for a moment in the darkness, the weight of her anger in the quiet hitting them both at once.
"I won't be here tomorrow," Shadow said simply, after a beat. As if her anger had pinged harmlessly off his chest like a blunt arrow. "I'm needed on a mission for two months - a military escort and operation was requested by our allies in Babylon. We'll resume training when I return, your highness."
Amy sighed and looked up at him, an apology in her eyes for her shortness anyway.
"As mad as I am that you won't be here for me to kick your ass -"
"Language…" he murmured in warning.
" - I wish you safe travels and a swift return, of course. And when you come back, I'll win a match - you'll see." She winked at him and received no acknowledgement, just his steadfast gaze.
"There is… something else I wish to discuss with your majesty tonight," Shadow said. He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he turned his head away from her. "It's a matter of the state. I will talk of it later, when we are in a more secure place."
She grabbed her old friend's hand, and smiled encouragingly at him.
"I wish you would drop the formalities, Shadow…" she teased. "I would love nothing more than to listen to whatever it may be that you need to discuss." She let his hand go, hoping to see a glimpse of a beating heart under his cold exterior, but he - of course - did not smile back, and they quietly left the dark changing room together, some new and unnamable feeling hanging between them.
Amy strode along the corridor leading to the throne room with Shadow keeping pace easily. Their synchronized footsteps echoed through the halls almost eerily, an obvious reminder of how cold and empty most of the castle felt, and how deafening the silence so often was.
Shadow had been Amy's personal guard for over 10 years now, assigned when she had reached the ripe age of 13 and he was 16. They'd been together almost every minute of every day since, and yet he rarely let personal feelings or information slip into their relationship. He had never once made an effort to fill their quiet days with small talk or - Gaia forbid - jokes. When he agreed to begin Amy's training in secret last year, she was ecstatic and surprised at his almost easy approval, and she worked hard to prove herself to him. She couldn't always tell if she was succeeding, however.
She entered her father's throne room silently with Shadow in hot pursuit.
"Hold him for two weeks and see if he talks. If he doesn't, we'll arrange a public execution," her father was saying as she approached his throne demurely. He waved away the knight who knelt before him as he looked up and saw her.
"What's the news, father?" She asked as she sank into a curtsy.
The King appeared uninterested by her arrival and their impending interaction.
"The guard caught a thief today. Perhaps he can lead us to the camp of ruffians that's causing us so much trouble." He waved the question off with a flick of his hand and turned to look out the far window to his side.
"And you're going to kill them in two weeks?" Amy said, her shock plain in her voice. "Why not… give them a job, or deal with the thieves more humanely?" She began hesitantly.
"I am not here to discuss this with you, Amelia. I am in charge, and I say cut out the rot quickly and easily." The King eyed her with annoyance. He, like her, was a pink hedgehog, but his coloring was somewhat more faded than hers. Like he had slowly and consciously washed the color out somehow over the years. And though the King's eyes were a gray-blue, they held a familiar spark of passion that Amy was not too proud to acknowledge she understood.
Amy heard Shadow shift as quietly as he could in his armor near the door. This was not unusual - having tense conversations with her father in front of him. While Shadow was unwilling to share anything about himself with her, he bore witness to every messy detail of Amy's life.
Amy steeled her face and delicately brushed her blush quills out of her eyes. "Then, why have I been summoned?"
She knew the answer, but did her best to not work herself up prematurely. Once she started rampaging it was hard for her to stop.
"Invitations went out today for your 25th birthday celebration. A ball, which will be held in two month's time." The King handed her a thick parchment with a wax seal bearing the crest of the Rose Kingdom.
"The invitation leaves nothing to question; you will choose your husband at this ball." He turned his head away from her, his mane of pink quills trailing behind. This was not up for discussion, his expression said, but that didn't mean Amy wasn't going to try.
"Father -"
"You're 25 for God's sake, Amelia. I have let you have your 'fun.' You must find a husband next month, I need time to train him to rule the Kingdom properly." Her father's hands tightened on the arms of his throne.
"I will run the kingdom properly, father -" She tried.
"You cannot! A woman cannot be a part of the knighthood, and a King must be the captain of it. You know nothing of battle, of strategy! You will be a dignitary and your husband -"
"I could be the captain of the guard father, if you just -"
"Do not interrupt your King!" He stood, snapping to look directly at her. Fierce pairs of bright eyes clashed. Her father could never blame her for her passionate spirit, she got it from him.
Amy stared defiantly back at him, but she had nothing more to say. She knew she could not change his mind, and it grated on her like her corset rubbed the skin under her fur raw. Every day she searched in her lessons, in the history books, for a loophole. A way around this idiotic rule that kept her from fulfilling the kingly duty of being the head of the royal army, but she always came up empty handed. She had long ago resigned herself to the thought that if it were possible according to tradition, it surely would have happened already.
"...You will prepare yourself for engagement, and we will select a proper suitor together." The King quieted down and his eyes softened as he sat back in his throne once again. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but then thought better of it and instead turned again to gaze out the window. Through it, one could behold the lush green forests surrounding the Rose Kingdom and a set of snow-topped mountain ranges cresting the horizon that seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Both Amy and her father suffered from burning much too passionately, lashing out, and quickly regretting it. She knew her father felt a tinge of guilt at how he yelled - but certainly not enough guilt to believe in her ability to rule, or change his mind about an engagement, so the knowledge didn't do much to comfort her.
The hall was too quiet. Amy turned on her heel, despite not being dismissed by her father, the parchment invitation heavy in her hand. If she could not protest, she would simply leave.
"Amelia -" her father called after her, but his voice was only a distant echo in her mind.
"Goodnight," she said sternly as she moved swiftly out the door of the throne room, emerging back into the cold, dark hallway. Amy heard the patter of Shadow's boots behind her, and she broke out into as much of a run as she could muster. She didn't want him to see how upset she was.
"Your highness!" She heard Shadow call to her, at first far away. Then, "Amy!" and he appeared right behind her, catching her hand gently. So gently, that Amy stopped in her tracks and dared to face the inscrutable man.
He stopped them behind a large pillar that stood among a row of them, supporting archways that lead to the courtyard. In his one hand, he held hers softly, and with his other, he held his helmet under his arm.
"I…" He let his breath go loudly, a sound so heavy it was as if he had been holding it since he became her guardian.
"Let me go, Shadow," She huffed, glancing at him. "I'm just… I need to think."
"You can't be this upset, this is…" He began. She saw the flash of an emotion in his red eyes that she couldn't place. His expression wasn't one of kindness, but it wasn't as stoic as he usually appeared, either.
"My duty, I get it," She retorted quietly. "Thanks so much for the reality check."
"This shouldn't be that hard for -" He tried again.
"I know! I know this is something I have to do 'for the kingdom'…" She snapped at him, she couldn't help that she was fuming. "Forgive me if I try to forestall my fate a bit, Shadow. Everyone thinks you're disagreeable when you're disagreeing with them, but I can't just smile and get married to someone I don't know or care for. And I believe, with all of my being, that I am enough for this kingdom. More than enough, just as I am! You're training me, for God's sake, Shadow! You wouldn't have agreed to that if you didn't believe that I could rule, that I could become a tactician… I know I could…" Her anger peaked and fizzled as she ranted quietly.
She became aware that Shadow was still holding her hand when he offered it a gentle squeeze, and when she looked up at him, she was surprised at the intensity in his gaze.
"I know you could," He said simply. His voice betrayed no kindness, but his words were tender. "But running away like a child when you feel your temper flare is not going to convince your father of that."
Amy had no response. She simmered - he was right.
Shadow sighed, let go of her hand, and rubbed his temple. "I didn't want to tell you this, I wanted you to train for training's sake and go in without any pretense, but… the planning for the Tournament of Champions has begun… It will be held in nearly 3 month's time." He took a deep breath and looked at her pointedly.
"There is no written rule about… women competing."
Amy's ears perked as she understood what he was implying.
"You… you're a genius!" She couldn't hide the shock in her voice and the delighted smile that slowly claimed her lips as she realized that Shadow had found her a loophole.
"Find a fiancé," Shadow commanded, "one who will be amiable and soft-hearted. While your father trains him, continue your own training to show the world what a leader you will be by winning the tournament. When you win, you will go down in history. Your father may be so impressed he'll agree you're fit to rule and cede the kingdom to you. And perhaps… Well, then you may be able to choose whether or not to go through with the wedding."
Amy slowly turned away from him, stunned.
"...How long have you been planning this? Why would you do it?" She whispered, her eyes glued to the floor as she tried to process what he was saying. She began to feel lightheaded with glee, and her hand flew up to her mouth to try and hide her relief, her hopeful smile, and her glassy eyes.
Shadow bowed his head, hoping he displayed proper reverence, afraid for once in his life that he had overstepped. He had known for a long time that his relationship with Amy was growing too close for his comfort, but he couldn't ever bring himself to request being moved from her post. She was his dear friend, his ward, and his future ruler. It was in his nature to bow to her, like a sunflower that cannot help but face the sun.
"I believe in you," he said earnestly. Suddenly, he felt soft gloves on his face, and delicate lips found his cheek for a chaste kiss. His mouth opened in surprise, but he quickly quashed his reaction with practiced precision.
Amy pulled away beaming, "What would I do without you?" She turned and hurried toward her room.
Shadow froze for only a moment before he sprung back by her side, his face set once again in his usual angry stare.
"Where are you going?" He asked gruffly.
"I still need some time to think. If it's a strategist they want, it's a strategist they'll get." She glanced at Shadow's serious face, delighted by his confidence in her and a new way to turn her hopelessness into agency. "But with you away for the next two months, I'll be on my own to train. I need to figure out how to keep my momentum if this is going to work."
This was a half-truth. Certainly Amy wanted to be alone to process the pressure she had just been handed by Shadow, but she also needed - deep in her bones - to get away from the too-heavy stone of the castle for the rest of the night. She suddenly saw another path for her life that led her away from a future trapped in a loveless marriage and relegated to the sidelines of her own story. It was a thrilling beacon of hope for what was to come, but that didn't mean she wasn't still surrounded by small-minded men, corsets, and protocol that were all relentless in their attempts to squeeze the life out of her in the present.
She needed space to clear her heart of all the things weighing her down and focus on what she could do now to best prepare herself for what was to come.
As the odd couple reached Amy's room, which Shadow was not allowed in as a matter of decorum, Amy assured him that she would be in for the night and he had nothing to worry about. He bade her goodnight, and the two parted tentatively. She knew he would be right outside the door all night, unaware of her premeditated mischief-making, and was deep in her own mind as Cream entered to undress her for the evening.
"Lots on your mind tonight, Miss Amy?" Cream asked as she unlaced Amy's corset and prepared her nightgown. The girls usually chattered through the evening, but tonight Amy instead stood quietly, contemplating her reflection in the tall mirror that stood across from them, leaning against a wall.
"Actually, yes…" Amy mused, raising her arms and stepping out from her clothes as needed. "Do you… think it would be horrible to be married to a stranger?" Amy asked. She almost laughed at herself. Cream was no more than 15, far too young to think of these things. And yet, who else would she ask?
"I think that it's more likely that it would be scary than it wouldn't be, if that makes sense…" Cream said slowly, "But, you are a princess. I expect your suitors would be more inclined to be gentlemen, wealthy scholars - men with titles and chivalry!" The rabbit girl smiled cheerily at her, and her naivety touched Amy.
She knelt for the young girl to retrieve the crown from Amy's head, and Amy couldn't help but notice how Cream handled the object with such reverence. Amy was sure Cream was dreaming of cotton-candy pink worlds where crowns don't give you headaches and princesses were dreamy, delightful, and didn't crash tournaments to win the right to lead.
Amy wasn't sure if she agreed with Cream's musings about the chivalry of her suitors. Often, men in power displayed the ruthless need to keep it. She, too, would be ruthless about her power if it meant getting to create a kingdom she would want to live in.
Her gaze returned to the mirror as Cream pulled her into her satin nightgown, the moonlight streaming in through the window panes of the door to her balcony.
Emboldened by the cloak of night and the promise of a better future for herself, Amy allowed herself to indulge in a satisfying fantasy. She pictured herself standing victorious amid a pile of fallen foes at the tournament in a few months. She could practically see the moonlight glinting off her armor, hear the crowd roaring behind her, and smell the sweat born of her own hard work as she stood, triumphant, and her father bowed before her in acceptance and humility.
As soon as Crema left Amy turned and pulled open her armoire, rummaging underneath her undergarments looking for her contraband. She hadn't gone outside the castle walls in a few months. Her training with Shadow kept her tired and satisfied, her appetite for adventure satiated, but Shadow wasn't going to be here starting tomorrow, and she needed to train harder than ever in the coming two months.
Sighing happily as she found her prize, Amy abandoned her nightgown and instead pulled on a stolen pageboy outfit, happy to be back in trousers and blouse, tucking her already short quills up into a brown cap.
She pulled a cloak over her shoulders thinking that she would get in a little extra training tonight, but not in the arena.
She was heading out into the kingdom.
A/N - Hi everyone! Welcome to WWS - I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I know what you're thinking: "Where's Sonic?" He is coming, I promise:) In the meantime enjoy a lil Shadamy tease. Leave a review if you enjoyed! See you in Chap 2!