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.

Once out in the courtyard, Amy knew she would be a sitting duck. If she - a Princess - were to be caught running to the training grounds by anyone, she was not confident in her ability to come up with a convincing lie about what she was up to.

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 just make a run for it, her eyes trained on the heavy wooden door leading to the arena - to freedom. She took off, moving as swiftly as she could despite her thick skirts and her stiff bodice and the heavy jewels dangling from her pink quills, hoping desperately as she ran that there was no one around to hear her or see her and -

"My lady?" a delicate voice called just as Amy passed by the hedges in the garden. She froze.

"Oh, Cream!" She turned mechanically, smoothing her skirts and quills as casually as she could. "What're you doing out here?"

The young rabbit maid was crouched near the dirt, a pile of weeds at her feet, the hem of her brown skirts covered in soil. She looked up from a bed of flowers and over her shoulder with amused curiosity at the running Princess.

"Just a little gardening, your majesty…" Cream said, eyeing Amy innocently. "...Pardon me for being so bold, but, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be studying?"

Amy met Cream's wide-eyed, hazel stare and felt a bead of sweat roll down her back as her pulse sped up.

"I - I've already finished my studying for the day," Amy stuttered out the half-excuse, stifling the impulse to fidget. It wasn't entirely 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," Amy said, her voice rising conspicuously.

"I see…" Cream said slowly, turning back to her gardening. She tossed one last small smile over her shoulder with a shrug. "Well, better get to your… lesson then."

Amy beamed at her lady-in-waiting, stopping herself from cheering and drawing more unwanted attention. She whirled around and hurried through the heavy wooden door leading to the training arena - finally, freedom in her grasp.

As she entered the open-air arena, Amy sighed in relief. She took a deep breath to calm herself, reveling in the strong smell of dirt, sweat, and metal polish. She smiled looking out at the large field and empty stands, 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," Amy said as she turned her brilliant stare to 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 - like he was another pillar or beam holding up the walls and the stands of the arena. Though he fit naturally among the scenery, he was still a captivating presence to behold. Shadow was a tall and well-built hedgehog with black and red spines and blood-red eyes. His expression was never anything less than scathing as a rule, 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, Amy had come to understand that his stoicism was much 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," Amy said, placing a light hand on his shoulder as she strode past him and into the changing room - a place 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 shimmied awkwardly 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 and left them dutifully in the same corner every night. He could be cynical, withholding, and quick to judge, 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, Amy 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 on 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, fitting his helmet onto his head and turning sharply to take up his sword from where it leaned against the weapons rack.

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 to 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 without rest for hours as the sun set and the sky grew dark, exchanging nothing but grunts, instructions, and blows.

Occasionally Shadow would pause, approach her, and explain a maneuver he had pulled. Then they would run it through slowly together until Amy 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 worked, 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 pulled himself onto one knee, breathing heavily, his sword tip resting on the ground. Amy couldn't believe it - she'd won.

"I'm going to make an incredible captain of the guard someday!" she gloated and smiled widely, turning away from him to rest her hammer on her shoulder plate as their time to train 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. Amy 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. Amy kicked up the packed dirt of the arena floor, tripping over her boots as she stumbled away. She gathered herself and turned back to her teacher to say something clever, but words escaped her and she could do nothing but catch her breath 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 or both of the combatants is either dead or incapacitated. Never turn your back on a foe." he berated, 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 grinning determinedly. She was thrilled to hear - by Shadow's standards - such high praise, but didn't dare call out the rare compliment lest she scare him off from ever offering her another one.

"It's my job to win," Shadow said somberly as he took his helmet off and dipped a cold cloth into one of the wash basins to wipe at his sweaty quills. "If I didn't do my job, you'd be dead ten times over already. It's your job to find a husband to take over the kingdom and the guard."

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.

Amy bristled alone in the changing room at his words. To other people, Amy's duty was something natural, easy even, but to her it was like a fly buzzing around her head. It was white noise in the back of her mind that never stopped, and if ever she experienced even a moment of rest, the noise would grow louder; fuzzing up her brain and sending her into fits of annoyed rage.

Amy pulled up her dress and slipped her arms into the sleeves, mood immediately soured, hugging herself tightly to keep the heavy bodice over her chest.

"You can come in now," she called softly.

The small room was almost pitch dark, moonlight streaming in through only a single rectangular window. Amy could only hear Shadow enter behind her, his quiet 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 at her back. Amy sighed as he took his hand away, feeling the weight of her gown 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. The boning of the corset forcing her spine into a straight, stacked line felt like being laced directly into a barred cell.

"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," he replied quietly, and Amy's anger withered instantly into shame.

They hesitated for a moment in the darkness as they let the tense moment pass. Shadow cleared his throat as Amy turned to him, securely back in her finery.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Shadow said simply after a beat. As if her words had pinged harmlessly off his chest like blunt arrows. "I'm needed on a mission for two months - on a military escort and operation requested by our allies in Babylon. We'll resume training when I return, your highness."

Amy sighed and looked up at him, a familiar apology in her expression for her short-temperedness.

"As mad as I am that you won't be here for me to kick your ass -"

"Language…" Shadow 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 back, just his steadfast gaze.

"There is… something else I wish to discuss with your majesty tonight," Shadow said with only the slightest hesitation. He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he turned his head away from her. "It's a matter of the state. I will speak of it later, when we're in a more secure place."

Amy grabbed her old friend's hand and smiled encouragingly at him.

"You know that 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."

Amy 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 heavily between them.

Amy strode briskly along the corridor leading to the throne room with Shadow keeping pace behind her 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, assigned when she had reached the ripe age of 13 and he 16. They'd been together almost every minute of every day since, and yet Shadow 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 - idle joking. When he agreed to begin Amy's knight training in secret the year before, 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.

Shadow opened the door to the throne room, bowing in stoic reverence as Amy passed him silently.

"Hold him for two weeks and see if he talks. If he doesn't, we'll arrange a public execution," Amy's father was saying as she approached his throne demurely. When he looked up and saw her, he waved the knight away abruptly.

"What's the news, father?" Amy asked as she sank into a curtsy.

The King sighed, apparently uninterested by both her arrival and their impending interaction.

"We caught a thief today. Perhaps he can lead us to the camp of ruffians that's causing us so much trouble." He dismissed the question with a flick of his hand and turned to look out the far window.

"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 offered the suggestion hesitantly, sure she already knew how her father would respond.

"I am not here to discuss this with you, Amelia. I'm 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 noticeably more faded. Like he had slowly and consciously washed the vibrancy out over the years until his quills and fur were a gray, dusty blush. And though the King's eyes were a dull blue, they held a familiar spark of passion that Amy was not too proud to acknowledge she understood intrinsically.

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 did her best to tame her expression and delicately brushed her 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 as much, 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 as he spoke.

"I will run the kingdom properly, father -" she tried.

"You cannot!" he snapped. "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 bellowed and stood, turning to look directly at her. Fierce pairs of bright eyes clashed as they stared each other down.

Amy stood defiantly for as long as she could, but she had nothing more to say. She knew she could not change her father's 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 the 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. Amy 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 said quietly as Amy finally bowed her head to him, and his eyes softened. He sat back in his throne and 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. It was a stunningly serene view, and the verdant lands of the Rose Kingdom seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"Do I make myself clear?" the King finished, his gaze and tone far away.

Amy knew her father likely felt a tinge of guilt for yelling - both of them suffered from burning much too passionately, lashing out, and quickly regretting it. But he certainly didn't feel guilty enough to believe in her ability to rule or change his mind about an engagement, so the knowledge alone didn't do much to comfort her.

The throne room became too quiet for her to bear. Amy turned on her heel, dismissing herself without answering, the parchment invitation heavy in her hand. She would not be made to say 'yes' simply to gratify her father, and since she knew she could not say 'no,' she chose neither option and simply left.

"Amelia -" her father called after her, but his voice was only a distant echo in her mind. Another bit of buzzing amidst the white noise.

"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 wanted to be left alone for once. She wanted the time and space to try and find some semblance of peace in her noisy mind. Most of all, she didn't want him seeing how upset she was.

"Your highness!" Amy heard Shadow call to her, at first far away. Then, "Amy!" and he appeared right behind her, catching her hand gently with his. So shockingly gently, that Amy stopped in her tracks and dared to face the inscrutable man.

Shadow had stopped them behind a large pillar that stood among a row of them, all supporting archways that framed views of the courtyard. In his one hand he held hers hesitantly, and with his other, he kept his helmet tucked under his arm.

"I…" he let his breath go loudly, a sound so heavy it was as if he had been holding it in since he first became her guardian.

"Let me go, Shadow," Amy huffed, glancing at him. "I'm just… I need to think."

"You shouldn't be this upset about this, this is all…" he couldn't finish his sentence. She saw the flash of an emotion in his red eyes that she couldn't place. Shadow's expression wasn't one of kindness, but it wasn't one of pity or anger or disdain either. It was somewhere in the middle. Amy would have thought it something bordering on concern if she didn't know any better.

"My duty, I get it," Amy retorted quietly, "thanks so much for the reality check."

"This shouldn't be that hard for -" Shadow tried again.

"I know!" Amy said with hysteric frustration. "I know getting married is something I have to do 'for the kingdom'. Forgive me if I try to forestall my fate a bit, Shadow, but you wouldn't know what it feels like to be used like this. To know from day one that the best thing you could ever hope for yourself was the nicest seat on the sidelines! So neither of you get to judge me for my reaction. I refuse to be made into a spectator in my own life just because some archaic law requires a King to lead the kingdom. I believe, with all of my being, that I am enough for this kingdom. More than enough, all on my own! You're training me, for God's sake, Shadow. You wouldn't have agreed to that if you didn't think that I could become a tactician - a fighter! That I would make an exceptional ruler…" her anger peaked and fizzled as she ranted quietly.

When Shadow offered her hand a gentle squeeze, she finally looked up at him and was surprised by the intensity in his gaze.

"I know you would," he affirmed 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 and she knew it.

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 or anxiety. I wanted to avoid placing you under more pressure 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 finally found her loophole.

"Find a fiancé," Shadow commanded, suddenly all business, "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 make history. You'll be, without room for debate, the Champion of the Rose Kingdom. As the best knight in the kingdom, your father may be forced to agree that you're fit to be the Captain of the Knighthood, and cede the throne to you. And perhaps… Well, then you may 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…" 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 to her mouth to try and hide her relief, her hopeful smile, and her glassy eyes.

Shadow bowed his head, hoping he was displaying 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 could never 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.

"Because I believe in you," he said earnestly.

Suddenly, Shadow 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 from him beaming. "What would I do without you?" she asked, and turned abruptly to hurry on towards her room.

Shadow froze for only a moment before springing 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." Amy glanced at Shadow's serious face, delighted beyond reason by his confidence in her. "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 the dismal, gray future she had thought was inevitable for as long as she could remember. The Tournament of Champions was a thrilling beacon of hope for what was to come, and she wanted space from the castle to let herself feel unconditionally optimistic.

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 could 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! Princes!" The rabbit girl smiled cheerily at her, and her naivety touched Amy.

Amy knelt for Cream to retrieve the crown from her head, and she couldn't help but notice how the girl handled the object with such reverence. Amy was sure Cream was picturing a bright, hopeful fairytale where crowns don't give you headaches and Princes were fine men. Where love was a thing achievable in just one fated look.

Amy wasn't sure if she agreed with Cream about the chivalry of her suitors. In her experience, men in power often displayed the ruthless need to keep it and the uncanny ability to abuse it. She could understand it - partially. 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 indulged in a satisfying fantasy of her own that left her heart pounding. 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.

She closed her eyes and shivered, picturing it again and again until the white noise in her mind went blissfully silent for the first time in years.

As soon as Cream left, Amy pulled open her dresser, rummaging underneath her folded undergarments 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 around starting tomorrow, and she needed to train harder than ever in his absence.

Sighing happily as she found her prize, Amy abandoned her nightgown and instead pulled on a well-worn pageboy outfit that had gone missing from a messenger long ago. She nodded with satisfaction at her image in the mirror, back in trousers and blouse, tucking her already short quills up into a brown cap. The outfit was a poor stand-in for battle armor, but it was more than enough for her for the night.

She pulled a cloak over her shoulders thinking happily 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! Now, 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!