12/30/2010
A/N: Brand new story! Finishing Concrete Jungle. . .I promise! The other's. . .no promises. . .
Tina could still hear her mother's voice calling for her to tend the chickens, even as she leapt over the tumbled-down stone wall and rolled halfway down the hill. Mother always wanted her to do the chores, no matter whether it was a Holy Day, or a Festival, or just a regular day. If Madame Chang had her way, Tina would show up to services with straw still in her hair and chicken dung along the bottoms of her shoes. It was best, she had learned, to escape early, before the sun rose and before the chores could be begun.
She would pay for her insolence later, of course – she would have to do her brother's evening chores, or perhaps she would be banned from the next barn dance. Worse yet, her mother might trek across town to Artie's house, and call the engagement off. That would be a shame, Tina thought. Artie was a nice young man, and with good prospect's – he worked in the blacksmith's shop, and when they were married and he a smith, she wouldn't have any chores to do at all.
Still, it was unlikely that her mother would call off the engagement. It was such a step up for their family, and Madame Chang was consumed with honor. Becoming a smith's wife would bring great honor to the family.
Tina was running out of breath as she reached the top of the next hill. It was a hot day, the sun already blazing down though it had risen only an hour ago. She could hear the sounds of the procession already – hundreds of horses, and trumpets. The gates would raise from the McKinley castle, and all the lords and ladies dressed in their best. Chores be darned, she wasn't going to miss the grand procession.
She tripped over her dress, but it was no matter, she just crawled forward the last few paces to lie on top of the hill. The Great Road lay before her, all winding and twisting like the creek behind Artie's home. The people on it moved and undulated, making it look all the more like a coursing river. But near the back there was a cloud of dust, proof that people travelled on the hard worn dirt and gravel.
It was just as magnificent as Tina had imagined. Banners unfurled, waving their bright colors in the wind. There was a snake, cut into three pieces on one, a black boar against a scarlet background on another. Lightening bolts on a third, and a leering baboon face on a fourth. There had to be thousands upon thousands of banners, Tina thought, and for each banner a dozen people. There were litters, carrying great ladies, and knight's in their shining armor. At the front of the great procession were six white horses with six silver-armored men atop them, and trumpeters on either side. Tina wished that Sam, the herbmaster's apprentice were there – he could probably tell her what the banners meant, what houses they came from. He would have stories about the magical lands that these strangers came from, would explain the histories and the legends.
There is only one that she knows – the longest, tallest banner of them all, right at the front of the procession. A pure white dragon, stitched through with silver and gold threads, set against a deeply blue backgrounds, with brilliant silver stars shining. That is for the king and queen, and for their beautiful princess.
Tina sighs, and lets her chin rest heavily on one outstretched arm. Everyone says that the princess is beautiful, with hair like spun gold and eyes as green as emerald's. She'll have pale skin, too, not Tina's dusky olive complexion, and hands as smooth as a baby – highborn lady's hands, without the rough calluses of the peasants. She'll wear a beautiful silk gown, and have diamonds dripping from her ears.
Tina thinks that she would give anything to see the princess, but she's surely hidden away behind one of the litters.
"Tina! Tina Ruth Chang, you get your fancy little arse back here and feed those chickens!"
Tina sighs, and starts to get up. Her mother doesn't usually seek her out – usually just waits for the recalcitrant return. The fact that she has walked out so far means that Tina's punishment will be worse than usual. Lashings, perhaps, or at least bedtime with no dinner. She casts one last, longing glance toward the procession, now nearing the castle. This is the most that she will see of the betrothal ceremony. Strange to think that she has come closer to spotting the foreigner princess than her own prince.
Sixteen summers, and she's never seen the king or queen, or their two sons. Sam claims that he did, when he went for training in the castle. He said that Prince Finn was as tall as an oak tree, and that Queen Carole was very lovely and kind. Tina had no reason to doubt Sam, but she still wishes that she could see them herself.
Mother is coming up the road, and Tina knows that if she hops back over the stone wall she can avoid being caught. Maybe, if she is back feeding the chickens when mother returns, she can avoid trouble. It's unlikely - her absence has clearly been noticed, and her mother is not easily tricked, but even so it seems like a worthwhile endeavor.
So she hops the wall, and hurries down the path behind the herbmaster's cottage. Sam stares out a window at her, his massive mouth gaping open, but she just waves hurriedly and dashes forward, grasping her skirts a little indecorously as the dust kicks up behind her. She scrambles beneath the barn beams, grabs up a bucket of chicken feed, and slides around the corner, throwing out kernels as she goes.
She's just reaching the chicken keep when she sees him. Artie Abrams is stretched out, legs crossed, leaning back against one of the low-hewn branches that help the chickens know where they belong. Tina sticks out her lower lip and considers. Artie's always been nice to her, but even nicer to her mother. She thinks that he's willing to marry her, but she's not really sure. Sam doesn't mind that she runs around exposing her ankles, or that she's late to chores, or that sometimes her long, dark hair falls in front of her face, but then again Sam has always been strange. Artie may care.
She drops a quick curtsey, spilling a few more kernels. A pair of chickens notice her, squawk almost angrily, and flap their wings to make their way over to her. Tina gasps, and Artie opens one eye.
"Good morning," she says.
"Morning," Artie says chipperly, standing himself. He walks over to her and takes the bucket from her hands. "A little late to the morning chores, aren't you?" he asks, glancing at where the sun nows stands at midmorning.
"I. . .I went to see the royal p-p-procession," Tina confesses, a bit of a stutter coming through. Her heart is pounding in her chest, louder than it ought to, she thinks. She isn't scared, but Artie has such blue, blue eyes, and even though he's shorter than most of the boys in town, his shoulders are broader and his arms more muscled.
"Oh, for the betrothal," Artie says, nodding. He reaches in and spreads some corn on the ground, stepping back quickly as the chickens descend to peck at it. He watches them for a moment, his brow crinkled, as Tina watches him.
"You know," Artie says slowly, "There's a spyglass in the cave behind the herbmaster's cottage."
Tina starts, her mouth falling open. "Wh-wh-what?"
"It's true," Artie says idly. "Sam and I went there once. It's just like in the stories, with the pirate spyglasses."
Tina shakes her head. She can't believe that they would venture into the cave – even Sam, as strange as he is, seems like he should know better. The cave is haunted, everybody knows that, by a monstrous beast. And even if it isn't haunted – Tina knows that there's no such thing as ghosts, they're just a story told by old grandmarms to frighten children – there still must be a beast that lives in there. A bear, maybe, or a mountain cat. Either way, it's hardly safe.
Artie is watching, and much notice the myriad expressions that cross her face, because he laughs shortly and shrugs. "It's okay," he says. "If you're too afraid, Sam and I can go ourselves. It's a great spyglass – let's you see right over the castle walls. You can watch the knights at practice. I think we even saw Prince Finn once."
That decides it for Tina. Prince Finn is handsome, she's heard, and brave and strong, and she thinks that nothing would be more wonderful than seeing him, even if it is from ar away and only through a bewitched spyglass.
"Is it safe?" she asks. Artie grins.
"Asks the girl who doesn't fear Madame Chang's wrath," he teases. "Come now, Tina, your mother is far more terrifying than any beast in a cave. Besides, I have my sword, and Sam has his magic."
It isn't magic, Tina wants to remind him, just healing herbs and noxious-smelling potions. She's heard that there are other lands with real magic – that the Princess Quinn, in fact, comes from one such place, where men cast spells with words alone. Not here, though – here they have only the herbmaster, who mutters strange things under his breath and crushes berries to help with foalings and birthings. Still, she notices the shortsword strapped to Artie's hip, and the breadth of his shoulders.
"D-d-d-did you make that yourself?" she asks breathlessly. Artie's grin widens, and he pats the sword again.
"Aye," he says. "My first forged steel. Master Tanaka was so proud of me that he said I might keep it."
"But do you know how to use it?" Tina asks doubtfully. Artie frowns a little at that.
"Do you want to come or not?" he asks. "We haven't got all day. There's a feast tonight, and we'll need to come back."
Tina worries at her lower lip, wondering. The cautious side of her mind warns her that it's a bad idea. But this is her betrothed staring at her, and she doesn't want to let him down. Besides, she very much wants to see more of the betrothal party. She doesn't trust her mouth to speak however, certain that her cursed stutter will confuse the meaning of her words, so she just nods her head, short and jerky but certain all the same.
"Great," Artie says, reaching down and grasped her hand. "Let's go – Sam said that he'll meet us there!"
The sun is well over mid-day by the time they arrive at the cave. Tina is gasping for breath, and there are wet patches under her arms and between her breasts. She's never been to the cave before – had no idea where it was, in truth. It's halfway up the Mountain, surrounded by fir trees. They smell sick and syrupy, thick sap bleeding out the sides of the trees. Artie explains that it's from the heat – that it bursts that wood apart. It's not blood, he tells her, but he can't really explain to her what it is. Tina just wipes the sweat out of her eyes and trudges forward, hoping that Artie isn't disgusted by how unlady-like she looks.
The town spreads out below them, and even further away the castle. It looks tall and forboding from the road, but here it looks like a plaything, a toy for a child. Tina frowns at it. This spyglass must be truly amazing – the castle is so far that she can't even make out the figures of people on the walls.
Sam is standing just outside the cave, his bright mouth in the widest smile Tina has ever seen. He and Artie shake hands, playing at being adults, and immediately enter the cave. Tina remains outside for a moment, still shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. Behind her is the cave, dark and almost welcoming, shade from the sun. She can feel the cooler air within it against her back, but something keeps her from entering, something keeps her eyes fixated on the castle below her.
Their mayor has explained to them the betrothal – it is to unite two kingdoms, he told them, and to cease the eternal battles that have plagued the border of Fabray and Hudson. But here, far from the border and so close to the castle, Tina has never seen war or battle. She doubts that this betrothal will mean anything for her, or her mother, other than one great feast.
There's a shout from within the cave, and Tina turns, prepared to enter. Another shout follows after it, though, and a dull rumbling. She doesn't know what makes her do it, but a sick feeling in the stomach. She dashes behind one of the sticky trees, the sap immediately clinging to her fingers. She barely notices, though, as there's a rumbling from deep within the earth. The shout this time is cut off midway through, strangled sounding and injured.
There is a beast, she thinks dully. A true beast in the depths of the cave. She utters a prayer up to the Great God above. The earth shudders again.
When she's asked about it later, she can't remember how it happens, exactly. There's a blast of heat from within the cave, enough that it singes her eyebrows and sets the hem of her dress aflame. There's an acrid scent in her nose, and a strange, metallic taste in her mouth. There's the sound of screaming – Sam or Artie, she doesn't know, not in the moment, and not later. There's another shudder in the ground, throwing her to the ground. She scrapes a knee and both hands, and she's sticky with the trees blood and her own, and then there's thick smoke.
She swears later that it's white, the great beast that arises from within the cave. It has wings, she'll swear it, and eyes as black as obsidian. It roars mightily, and flies away.
A/N: Poor Tina. Poor Sam. Poor Artie. Always stinks to be in a prologue.
COMING SOON: The actual betrothal ceremony, the eternally attractive Sir Cooper, Prince Kurt and his troublesome compatriot, the devious Sebastian. Oh yes, we're going full AU here.