While the king delighted in his commands, Avonlea's princess couldn't stomach a bite of the food set on her plate. She looked about her, to the castle servants and knights she'd left behind months ago, and saw them all happily reunited with their fellows who had remained, all of them gorging themselves at the feast tables. And such a feast it was. With the country overrun, food had quickly become scarce. Belle could hardly recall a time when she hadn't been hungry; often she wondered if her petite size could be hung on the years her belly had spent empty.
As the ogres had made their indomitable advance across the land, the castle had swiftly lost any standing as a royal house. It seemed that overnight it had become a refuge to both the noble class and the peasants. All were desperate, all were afraid.
But thanks to the dancing demon, Avonlea was free.
Belle pushed her plate away and looked to the main floor of the hall, her eyes seeking him.
The Dark One was there, some stringed instrument in his hands, strumming a tune along with his song. The words were not in a language that Belle had ever heard. Could he be fooling them all, just singing nonsense? Or were the words truly an incantation, a sinister command that would kill them all in their sleep, freeing him from her father's control?
Just thinking it, Belle felt that a cold hand was squeezing her heart, and she rushed to gulp at her wine to banish the thought.
No!
That couldn't be her end - sent away from her doomed country only to be brought home by dark magic and killed in her bed?
No. Please, no.
The Dark One finished his song, bowing deeply to the ladies who had gathered in close to listen. Belle saw that he wore several wildflower leis about his neck, gifts from those same ladies, Belle assumed. Well. A man would not accept gifts from those he meant to murder, would he?
But the Dark One was not a man, truly. And while he had declared himself as evil, Belle didn't feel it to be true.
Under command or not, the Dark One had saved countless lives. Avonlea could rebuild, and it was all down to him.
Belle took a deep breath to settle her nerves. He is not evil. I've seen true evil and it's not him.
She resolved to speak with him again. Alone, if she could manage it. A near impossible feat, but she needed to try.
Perhaps I can weave flowers for him of my own.
The princess gave a soft smile at the thought, and when she looked to the Dark One again, she found that he had already fixed her in his intense stare.
As all parties do, the first feast Avonlea had seen in years drew to a swift close.
Such a harvest of rich food, a river of wine after a decade of drought, the delight in taste, the warmth that spread through the body, the sluggish movements, the slowed thoughts.
Belle watched as cleric and knight alike began to take their leave, the advisors and servants intent for their beds, all of them bound for the first content sleep in years. She watched as those assigned to her care began to depart, reacquainting themselves with the castle. She waved off her yawning maid, dismissing the woman to wait for Belle in her bedchamber.
"I'll be in to change right behind you." Belle reassured her.
"If you're sure, my lady."
"I am. I only want to look out the window of the tower. Perhaps I can see the statues the Dark One made of the ogres from there." Belle said, the lie easily sliding off her tongue.
Her maid nodded. "Very well. I don't know that the mage brought our bedclothes when he brought us back home."
Belle shook her head, and thought of the legends that spoke of his cunning. "Somehow I'm sure the Dark One has thought of everything. Go. I will be in soon."
Her maid went off without further argument and for that Belle was grateful. Tonight was a celebration, but her country's freedom and been bought at the cost of the mage's freedom. She felt it her duty to find him and profess her thanks, as it was all too clear that her king never would.
She thought on that, her father, her king. All his grand declarations for Avonlea's future and then the cruel, petty commands that the Dark One prance about for his entertainment. Her king was drunk with the power he could weild through the Dark One's soul dagger.
Belle loved her father but she despised what she was seeing in him now.
Had the dagger corrupted Maurice already, or was this just a different side she was seeing of her father for the first time? Some sick mix of hope and cruelty.
The main hall was clearing out, Belle could not see her father or the mage. Her options were few. She could go to her father's bedchamber on the assumption that he had the Dark One with him, but then how could she speak with him? Her father would not allow it. Hadn't the king said something about caging the mage in the dungeon? Belle dare not venture there alone.
The princess worried at her bottom lip, and met the anticlimactic decision to just go to her room for the night. Perhaps her father would allow her to speak to the Dark One in the morning. She would thank him, then, weave him a chain of flowers since he seemed to favor them.
Belle started down the familiar path to her bedchamber, feeling both restless and exhausted. Her world had changed in the space of moments - her country had a future now and she had a future as a wife. That hint from the mage hung in her mind, but she hadn't had a chance to speak to her father yet. She knew the day would come, she was near her nineteenth year - her previous betrothal had been broken when her intended, a young duke whom she had only met once, was killed as he fought to protect a small keep from the ravenous ogres. While the peasants fled, her fiance stood his ground for Avonlea. Another life snuffed out too soon - he had only been seventeen, and quite kind. Belle remembered him fondly.
Who was she to marry now? Another duke?
She thought not.
Most of the noble families had fled Avonlea, saving themselves while their tenants were eaten alive in the fields. Those few who remained had come to the castle seeking refuge, but none of them were free to marry.
It did not matter.
Belle would learn her fiance's name at first light. She was sure her father would introduce them soon enough. The king had grand plans to rebuild; he remembered the bright, flourishing kingdom Avonlea had been before the ogres came. Belle had never known her homeland as anything but a place of impending doom. She was a child when they first came, any carefree memories there may have been had long been overwhelmed by tears for her fallen knights and terrified prayers with the clerics.
So many tears shed and not a single prayer answered.
We never should have prayed. There is magic but there are no gods who care for us. There is only -
The Dark One!
Belle stopped quick when she saw him. He was there, standing before a window on the top landing. She watched him and wondered what it was the Dark One was seeing with his strange eyes. Did he only see the courtyard below, or was he seeing another land, some faraway realm?
He was so intriguing to look upon, and so clever to speak with, though she prayed his comment of being the one to send the ogres across their borders was only a quip. Belle looked about the hall. Everyone was turning in for the night, and princess though she may be, no one would pay much notice to her now. And Belle herself? She knew every reason not to approach him, to just let him be. He may not want to be bothered, but she refused to let the opportunity pass. She had seen her father's cruel streak flare at the feast, exploiting his control of the Dark One by forcing him to sing and dance as a show of his power, purposefully humiliating him before the court.
For that, she knew her father would never apologize. The king could only allow himself to see the Dark One as an instrument toward the reparation of Avonlea, but Belle was not so obligated. The Dark One was more than a tool or animal to be put to work, he was intelligent and self-aware, and, standing there, simply staring out into the night, Belle was taken with the strange thought that he seemed...lonely.
She swallowed down her nerves and approached him.
"Dark One."
He blinked into awareness only after she'd given a gentle tug to his sleeve. He looked down at her, and Belle was startled to see that his eyes shined amber in the darkness when he turned to face her, much like a cat's. Most unnerving, but after what her father had put him through, Belle felt that he would be craving respect more than fear.
"Princess, why have you not retired for the night?"
The question surprised her.
"I will shortly but I wish to speak with you first. If you will allow it." She added. If they did speak, she wanted him to know it was his choice. One of the few choices he was allowed, now.
He openly stared at her, his face blank. Placid as a lake. "Why?"
"I want to apologize for my father." She said plainly. "You banished the ogres that would have surely laid waste to all of Avonlea, and in return my father reduced you to a jester."
He graced her with a quick grin. "And so the monster is granted sympathy from a princess? Even I could not have spun such a tall tale!"
He was mocking her but she did not think he was being cruel in doing so. More, he seemed in the mood to banter. Well. Belle would not disappoint him, she did so love to show her wit. "Hear me, please. Even though you were commanded, you deserve a reward for what you did for us. Have you ever known fear? Tonight will be the first night I will find true sleep without worry or nightmares of the ogres overrunning the castle."
"You will sleep easier with me prowling your palace than with the ogres in the fields?" There was a teasing quality to his voice, it seemed ever-present.
"I do not fear you."
Her frank words seemed to unbalance him for a moment. Good, Belle thought. Turnabout is fair play, Dark One.
"A strange girl you are, Princess Belle of Avonlea, not to fear me when your father attests you have read of my every exploit."
Belle nodded, "In this, my king speaks the truth. I have read tales of you, the shaded deals you've made, the things you've done. You are brilliant and devious. Had you wanted to bring us harm, you are powerful and clever enough to have done so. We should all be in awe of your greatness." She said, hoping to flatter him since he had proven open to it with the other ladies of the court. "In any case I have learned that authors are paid to spin grand tales. The grander the tale, the greater their pay, until there is barely more than but a grain of truth in every legend."
"Perhaps. And yet I remain the Dark One, here only by the command of your father and only because he holds my dagger. I will protect this kingdom, restore its lands and raise its people. I will sing and dance and perform the tricks for the court - but rest assured, little princess, the day your father loosens his grip on my blade is the day I flay him with it. The court and your fiancé will be quick to follow."
He had every reason to kill everyone in the castle - no one had raised their voice in his defense as the king forced him to perform, humiliating him rather than dropping to his knees in thanks for all the Dark One had done for their country. They were all complicit in their silence.
"And me?"
"You? Well, since my last girl ran off, I will need a new servant to tend my estate when I am finished here. A princess made slave will be very fitting. Sleep well while you can, my lady." He hissed as he swept into an exaggerated bow.
Belle allowed no trace of fear to show on her face. The mage hated Avonlea. He hated her father and he hated her.
Had he the freedom, he would burn the world down around them.
Had he only the freedom.
"I will, Dark One, for the first time in years. And it's all thanks to you."
Do the brave thing - bravery will follow.
Belle dared to touch his hand now, the second time in a night. She could feel the tension in his fingers, his smooth scaled skin, the graze of his claws.
"Thank you, Dark One. It is because of you that Avonlea's people are safe. No gods descended to answer our prayers. No number of knights and brave men could turn the tide of monsters. It was you, you alone who saved us. The crown thanks you. Our people thank you. I thank you, Dark One. You have my eternal thanks. I would ask you - no, beg you, how can I prove my gratitude?"
The Dark One watched her throughout her pledge, then glanced down to their joined hands with a shadow falling over his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something."