![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrDefinitely has some...darker themes than I usually deal with. I have no idea where the fuck this idea came from. I'm thinking that the last time I work on story ideas/notes while watching Brotherhood of the Wolf. It does weird things to the musebrain.
I don't know how many are familiar with the fairytale I'm altering here. I know it as "Thousand Furs" but it's also called "Donkeyskin" and similar such names. The Grimm version is here if anyone is interested.
"Prince Galen, we are honored to have you here."
White-blonde hair spilled over one shoulder as Galen bowed low, "My apologies, for arriving without proper notice. I am afraid the weather proved too much for my men and I."
The king waved a ring-bedecked hand, "Think nothing of it, please. It is an honor to have a son of the High King with us. And just in time for our winter celebrations, your grace. Please do stay and enjoy them."
"I would be most honored." Eyes like blue glass examined the king who continued to speak, and Galen resisted the urge to turn and leave. He had wanted to reach the border by month's end. Instead it seemed he would be spending the end of the year in a strange castle.
It didn't help the situation at all that he felt unsettled, though he could not place why. He had seen it on the faces of his men as well - they did not like the place. There was a gloom over it, ill hidden by the bright colors that fought in vain against the dreariness of winter. His examination of the king revealed a ruler much like any other; besides his apparent love of jewelry there was nothing noteworthy about him.
But a closer examination revealed that wasn't entirely true. There was something in his eyes, Galen realized. They looked…not quite right. He felt ill looking at them, and turned his gaze.
And wound up looking at someone who unsettled him even more than the king and his strange, unbalanced eyes.
Just to the right of the king's feet, seated on the steps leading up to the throne, was the court jester. His hair was a dark brown, worn to his shoulders and decked with beads and small bells. White paint covered his face, and each cheek was decorated with a small heart right beneath the eye, one black and one red. His lips were colored a rich, deep red, and he watched the prince with an expression that was oddly serious, out of place on his clownish face.
As with the king, it was his eyes that unsettled Galen. The jester's eyes were black, or at least so dark in color they appeared black. They gave the jester a dark, mysterious air, and Galen found it hard to look away.
"But you must be weary my prince, please do let one of my men escort you to your room."
Galen nodded, recalled from his musing. "I would deeply appreciate it, Highness."
'I will take him," the jester spoke in a voice that made Galen shiver in a way he had not in a long time. An easy grin shaped the jester's mouth as he turned to the king. "If you would be so kind as to permit me the honor, Majesty?"
The king nodded slowly, "As you like, Rune. The room in the west end?"
"Of course, I know where he is staying." The jester rose slowly to his feet, smoothing his bright red tunic and motioning to the prince. "Your highness, please do follow me."
Galen bowed once more to the king and then turned to follow the jester out.
Outside in the hallway, the jester turned and gave him a deep bow. "I am Rune, your highness. Entertainer to the king, as I am sure you noticed." He looked up, a slow smile curving his lips. Galen saw that his eyes weren't black, but a very dark green. "This way, your highness."
They walked in silence through the torch-lit hallways of the path. Galen wrapped his cloak tight, willing away the winter chill that could not be completely fended off. As they continued, the number of people milling around continued to diminish.
No one else was around when the jester spoke again, "There are rumors of you, your highness." His voice was soft, sly. Taunting.
Galen didn't like the tone. "Excuse you?"
"Rumors, highness. They say the High King rejected his eldest son as heir. They say that instead of taking the throne the former crown prince wanders from kingdom to kingdom, doing the work usually left to underlings."
"You are out of line."
Rune gave a careless shrug, "I speak only of what I hear, Highness. They interest me, rumors. Such an interesting mix of truth and falsehood." He looked over his shoulder, that slow smile still on his handsome face. "But I meant no offense. Do except my apologies."
"Just be silent."
"As you wish." The jester halted before a set of double doors, shoving them open and bowing with a flourish. "Your chambers, highness. I am sure you are too weary to dine with us this evening," he looked up through his lashes, "But tomorrow is the first ball, to start off the thee-day celebration. Do join us then, I promise it will be quite a treat. The king's balls are famous."
Galen only nodded, and vanished into his room.
*~*~*
"Good evening, Prince Galen," a sly voice greeted him at the door. "It is an honor to have you at our humble party."
Galen ignored the jester, who only laughed and danced away into the crowd, hard to miss in his green and orange ensemble, bells jingling with every movement. The prince approached the thrown, bowing to and greeting the king, who grinned and beckoned him closer. "Ah, Prince Galen. I see you decided to join us. What do you think of my ball?"
"It is truly as magnificent as they say, King." Galen was impressed by the ballroom and it's decoration, a magnificent imitation of a palace of ice without the unbearable cold. Crystal and glass sparkled everywhere, dazzling the eye where it caught the light. Across the dance floor couples whirled and spun, a dizzying movement of color nearly as blinding as the light. Despite the grandeur he could not escape the feeling that…something dark…lurked just beneath the surface. He tried in vain to shake the feeling off.
"You should dance, Prince. I guarantee there is no shortage of ladies that would love to show you the dance floor."
"I am a terrible dancer," Galen replied, "So if you will forgive me, I will keep to watching the festivities."
The king nodded, "As you wish. By all means keep me company, and tell me of your travels."
Galen nodded, and spoke with the king as they watched the dancers and chatted with the occasional noble. Irritably he forced himself to ignore the unsettled feeling that persisted in the presence of the king. Mustering all the cheer he could, he launched into a tale of the time he and his men got lost in a forest. But halfway through the story, the king's face drained of all color. The prince realized he was staring at the crowd and turned with a frown to look.
Approaching them was what had to be the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. He could not tear his eyes away. The man was young, not more than eighteen years or so. Only a few years younger than Galen's own twenty-four. His hair was as black as the finest ink, straight and cut to frame his elegant face. Bright green eyes stared unwaveringly at the seated king, set off by a tunic as golden as the sun.
In a rough, oddly hoarse voice the man spoke, "Your Majesty." He knelt before the king, his head bowed low.
"Wh-Who are you?" The King stuttered, his own light brown eyes wide with barely contained fear. Around him the ballroom had fallen into a shocked silence. Galen frowned, confused and concerned.
The stranger seemed unaffected, "I am no on, majesty. I come only to bring you a paltry gift." He looked up, green eyes seeming to burrow into the King, who was now trembling slightly. Gold flashed as he tossed a small object into the King's lap. Only Galen heard the thin cry of dismay.
Standing and bowing once more, the man spun and walked through a crowd that moved hastily out of his way. Befuddled completely, Galen glanced back at the king and the object he held in one trembling hand.
A golden broach, engraved with a rose.
The stranger's visit had effectively killed the festive mood, and Galen wasted no time departing. He strolled through the halls in the direction of his room, ignoring all who spoke to him.
Before he could enter his chambers, a sly, alluring voice spoke from behind. "There are rumors of the King, you know."
"No, I do not. Leave me alone, jester."
Rune laughed, "They say the king did dark, dark things when the Queen died. That he lost all sense."
"You speak in riddles, and I do not care for your words anyway." Galen glared at him, "In fact, I do not care at all for a man who would speak against his king."
"I do not speak against the king," the jester said. "I speak only of silly rumors, gossip to entertain when the dark and cold grow unbearable. They say the king made a promise to his beloved queen, a promise that drove him to madness."
Galen glared, "I do not want to hear it."
"You do not like rumors? But they're so interesting."
"No, I do not. Nor do I like a man who would so gleefully tell them to a passing stranger."
The jester smiled, "Then I shall tell you a story instead."
"I do not need to be entertained, Jester. Be off with you."
"But it's such an interesting story. About a kingdom ruled not only by a king but also by a queen of such beauty, none could surpass her. The king adored her, and she him. It is said that they fell in love at first sight, and forgot all else."
Galen sighed, his head knocking against the door. Vainly he willed his feet to move, to carry him into his room and the quiet he would find there. But the jester's sly voice was also smooth and warm, compelling Galen to listen despite his loathing to hear the story.
"Beautiful but ultimately of poor health, the Queen grew ill one winter and never recovered. With her last breath, they say she begged her husband to marry only a woman of equal or greater beauty. Miserable, the King of course promised. The Queen passed away."
Rune crossed the hall and opened the Prince's door, "Come, it's cold out here. Let us continue in your room?"
"Go away," Galen said desperately. But the deep green eyes and warm voice were hard to resist, and he permitted the unsettling jester to follow him. He settled before the fire as Rune continued his tale.
"I mean you no harm, Prince." The jester said, settling on the floor before the fire and staring up at the seated prince.
Galen sighed, "I do not trust you, nor do I like your story. But…"
"But winter nights are long and cold and lonely." The jester smirked, "And some company is better than none. I promise my tale is interesting. Now where was I? Ah yes, the Queen passed away. The King went into deep mourning for two years, and naught could shake him from it. But at last his advisors convinced him he needed a new Queen, and reluctantly he agreed. However he also recalled the precious promise made to his beloved wife, and relayed it to his advisors, who were dismayed at the stipulation. Never the less, they scoured the land for a woman of impossible beauty."
"And failed utterly," the Jester said softly. His painted lips looked black in the firelight, the bright colors of his costume faded. "No where in the kingdom could they find a woman as beautiful as the former queen. Her hair was as black as night and her skin as pale as winter, but she had eyes the color of spring. And her equal did not exist. The advisors gave up and begged the king to marry someone else, even offering several fine candidates."
His voice turned somber, all sly humor vanished. Galen had forgotten he did not want to hear the story, lulled by the voice that told it and the intensity with which the tale was told. "But the King in the midst of the search was still deep in grief, so lost to it that his mind was growing unstable. And lost in that misery, they say he found a fitting wife right there in his own castle. During the festivities at year's end."
"You see the Queen and King, early on in their marriage, bore a child. A daughter…who was in every way the very image of her mother. And at eighteen she was far from being a child…"
Galen felt a sudden chill, "I think I like this story even less than I did before."
"She was quite a lovely young woman," the jester did not pause, "And the king in his haze of grief and growing madness, took it into his head to marry his daughter. Of course his advisors were horrified, and his daughter when she learned of his plans was terrified. More than that however, she was concerned for her father. Until the last she was certain he could be saved from the madness that was consuming him."
"But the King would not be dissuaded. To stall him, in one last desperate bid to get him to see reason, his daughter commanded four items of clothing be made that she properly celebrate her wedding. Her hope was that he would be unable to make the clothes, or that it would take so long he overcame his grief and called the wedding off."
"First she commanded a wedding dress be made, as white and golden as the sun. And so the king had it made. Second she commanded a dress for her bridal ball, a dress of shimmering silver to rival the moon. And so the king had it made. The daughter and advisors grew more desperate, but the King was more relentless than ever. So she requested next a dress as magnificent as the night sky, sparkling with stars. And so the king had it made. Lastly she requested a fine cloak, to ward off the chill as they traveled on their wedding journey. A cloak to which every creature in the forest must contribute a piece - a cloak made from one thousand furs."
"And so the king had it made, and at the last the daughter panicked and tried to flee…" Rune fell silent.
Galen frowned, and said nothing.
At last Rune resumed speaking, voice heavy. "The story takes an even darker turn here, and I will not speak of it. Suffice to say that the king was displeased with her attempts to flee, and by force made her his bride. As the months went on she tried many times to escape her unhappy life, by ending it completely. But she was with child, and the King and advisors kept strict watch over her."
"The child was born, and believing her exhausted all left her in peace. Deep in the night the woman took her baby and fled forever, kept warm by a cloak made from one thousand furs. She took with her nothing save three pieces of jewelry, precious to her as memories of happier times. A ring, a necklace, and a broach, all made of solid gold. Where she went, it isn't known. But none ever saw her again."
Grimacing, Galen spoke. "Not a happy tale, jester. I thought your task was to make people laugh and enjoy life."
"Life is hard to enjoy when you live buried in dark secrets. After his daughter-bride ran away, the King seemed actually to regain some of his senses. Or at least he pretends. But all who dwell in the castle whisper of his darker days, his advisors dread any mention of it and the King himself waits in misery for the day he must face his crimes. A pall hangs over this place, for everyone feels guilty for doing something - or nothing."
Galen nodded absently in acknowledgement, no longer able to deny to himself the unsettling feel of the castle and its king. "I do not appreciate your relating such a horrendous story, jester. Leave me."
"As you wish."
Rune paused in the doorway, "There will be another ball tomorrow. We look forward to your presence, highness." He pulled the door firmly shut as he left.
*~*~*
"Highness, you are looking most well this evening." The jester smiled, examining Galen in his dark blue tunic, shot with pale silver to emphasize his long, pale hair. "We are most flattered you have deigned to join us another evening." With a smirk the jester bowed and disappeared into the crowd.
Sighing Galen once more made his way to the throne, greeting and conversing with a noticeably distracted King. He frowned, "Majesty, are you well? You are not yourself this evening."
"I am fine, thank you. Are you enjoying your stay, Prince Galen?"
"Your hospitality is most grand, King."
The king only nodded, eyes wandering nervously from the entry way and around the ballroom. The dizzying whirl of colors made it hard to see anything, and he attempted to focus on his discussion with the prince.
Bells struck the tenth hour, and the dancing and laughing continued on uninterrupted. But a sigh of relief turned into a pained gasp as cries of dismay shattered the waltzing on the dance floor and a man of unsurpassed beauty approached the dais where the king sat fearfully in his throne. He was dressed in tunic of such delicate, shimmering silver it rivaled the moon.
The man knelt, and spoke in his hoarse voice. "Majesty, a token gift." A flash of movement and a glitter of gold, and soundlessly an object landed in the king's lap. None made a move to stop the man as he turned and left the ballroom.
With a thoughtful frown, Galen watched the stranger vanish. Shaking off his thoughts, he turned to examine the newest object.
A golden necklace, from hung a golden rose.
Galen bowed shortly and quickly exited the ballroom.
Waiting for him outside his rooms was Rune, mysterious and strange in the wavering light of the torches. His purple costume and white face added to the effect. "Have you another unhappy tale for me, jester?"
"Only rumors."
"Then by all means come and keep me from a peaceful rest."
Laughter rippled through the dark hallway, fading as Rune followed behind Galen into the prince's chambers. They settled by the fire, the prince in his chair and Rune close to his feet.
"What rumors have you to speak of tonight?"
Rune flicked his dark eyes at the prince, and then stared into the fire. "They say there is strife in the kingdoms to the east. That the High King plans to send an emissary there to quell things before the strife spirals out of control and into war."
"There is much truth to those rumors."
"They say the east is always warm, and never endures the bite of ice and snow."
Galen smiled, "That, I do not know."
"They say that the High King plans to send his eldest son to serve as emissary. That he hopes to lose his son there, that his second son will suffer no problems when he is named crown prince."
"More fact than fiction. And here I was starting to think your rumors were all pleasant tonight." Galen lost all traces of good humor.
Rune shrugged, "If rumors were nothing but pleasant, they would not be any fun to spread. They say that the King here is going insane again, shouting and screaming in his room these past two nights until exhaustion wears him out. That the kingdom will not last much longer."
"That does not surprise me. Have you anything else to tell me, jester?"
"Nothing more tonight, highness."
"Then leave me in peace."
"As you wish." Rune once more paused in the doorway.
Galen spoke first, "I shall attend the ball tomorrow."
The jester departed.
Several minutes later, Galen rose. He made his way slowly through the winding halls of the palace, headed for the rooms where his guard abided.
*~*~*
The cheer that night was forced. A pal hung over the festivities that even the splendor of the ballroom and lilting dance tunes could not dismiss. The crowd danced and chatted and played at being gay but their efforts fell notably flat.
On the throne the king sat in rigid silence, barely returning Galen's polite greeting. Rather than make an attempt at conversation, Galen took his seat beside the king and waited as the hours ticked slowly by. His eyes skimmed the crowd for a man decked out in yellow and blue but did not locate him. Unsurprised, the prince settled back in his seat and waited.
As the clock hands approached eleven, several pained cries from the crowd announced the arrival of the dreaded stranger. He wore a tunic of pure black, shot threw with diamonds so that it seemed he was dressed in a night sky, sparkling with stars. The king's face was pale as the dark-haired man approached and knelt before the throne.
His voice was still rough, but his tone was void of the politeness used the previous two days. "Father," the man said slowly. He seemed not to hear the sounds of discord and dismay that rose up around them, his green eyes focused solely on the pale-faced king. "One last gift I have to bestow." The briefest hint of gold flashed in the sparkling light, and the object landed in the King's lap. Then the man turned to leave. Guards approached him at the bidding of panicked advisor, but one look into his now deep-green eyes had them reeling back. The stranger left in peace.
Galen spared a brief glance at the king's lap, though he already knew what he would see there.
A golden ring, decorated with a rose signet.
Ducking out of the ballroom through a side door, the prince headed for his chambers.
A man stopped him - the captain of Galen's guard. "Sire? Do you still intend?"
"Yes. This very night."
"As you command, Sire. We will be waiting."
Galen nodded and continued on toward his chambers.
The hallway outside was empty…but his door was partially open. Galen stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him. He glanced toward the fireplace - a familiar figure was in his seat.
"When did you figure it out?" A soft, alluring voice asked from the depths of the chair.
Galen walked towards Rune, who watched him in both curiosity and anxiety. Ink-black hair fell into his bright green eyes, fingering playing nervously with the diamonds woven into the dark fabric of his tunic.
"It wasn't hard. You sought me out in hopes I'd deduce it. But it's also your eyes - dark or light, that green is distinctive."
Rune nodded, watching the flames for a moment.
"What do you intend to do now?" Galen asked softly.
"I don't know. I…had intended to kill him, at the last. And was resigned to being killed thereafter."
Slowly the prince approached the chair and dropped to one knee before him, "You changed your mind?" his voice was still soft.
Rune's face twisted in pain, "He…my mother was never…she went mad in the end, could not even bare to look at me. She only told me the truth at the last, when the madness consumed her to the point she was unable to keep the secret from me." He did not seem to notice the tears falling down his face, "I hated him so much for it…wanted to see him suffer…all of them, who did nothing to save her. I've waited so long for the chance…eighteen, and the winter festivities at year's end. When her whole life fell apart…and then…"
"And then?"
The jester was slow to answer, "They say the King and Queen fell in love at first sight, and forgot all else around them. But they also say such a notion is foolishness."
"Not necessarily," Galen replied with a gentle smile.
Rune took a deep breath, wiping his eyes before he stared again at the prince. "There are rumors of you prince."
"Are there?"
"They say the High King rejected you as heir because you would never be able to give him grandchildren. That you cannot produce an heir of your own because women hold no appeal for you."
Galen smiled, "All truth, those rumors."
"Rumor has it you are going into the east, to put an end to the strife there. That you won't be coming back to the snow and cold, even when peace is achieved."
"Truth. I am tired of the rumors that chase me, and of the cold that beats down relentlessly the better part of every year. I go to the east, most likely never to return." Reaching out, Galen ran his fingers along dark hair that was every bit as soft as it appeared. From there he let his fingers trail down a tear-damp cheek and down slender arms to linger on hands cold with worry and fear. "But do you know the rumors that say how lonely it is? To be a prince rejected by his own father? To wander endlessly from place to place with only soldiers for friendly faces?"
Rune shook his head and spoke faintly, "No…I had not heard those rumors."
"Well, they are very much fact. They are problems that plague me relentlessly. But I think that if you come with me, we might solve both my problems and yours. What say you, Rune? Would you like to accompany me to the east?"
"I would," Rune managed a weak smile as he looked at Galen.
Galen nodded approval and stood, pulling Rune up with him. "Then we go this night, before trouble is given a chance to arrive. Come, my men are waiting for us."
"Oh." Rune said in surprise.
The prince smiled, throwing one of his spare cloaks around Rune's shoulders. " I am very much willing to believe that a King and Queen fell in love at first sight." Stepping in close he bent and captured Rune's mouth in a lingering kiss. "Because I saw you and forgot all else. And I would never have left this place without you."
Rune only nodded, unable to speak.
Galen smiled and drew the hood of Rune's cloak up, then led him out of the castle to where his men waited just beyond it.
I don't know how many are familiar with the fairytale I'm altering here. I know it as "Thousand Furs" but it's also called "Donkeyskin" and similar such names. The Grimm version is here if anyone is interested.
Rumors
"Prince Galen, we are honored to have you here."
White-blonde hair spilled over one shoulder as Galen bowed low, "My apologies, for arriving without proper notice. I am afraid the weather proved too much for my men and I."
The king waved a ring-bedecked hand, "Think nothing of it, please. It is an honor to have a son of the High King with us. And just in time for our winter celebrations, your grace. Please do stay and enjoy them."
"I would be most honored." Eyes like blue glass examined the king who continued to speak, and Galen resisted the urge to turn and leave. He had wanted to reach the border by month's end. Instead it seemed he would be spending the end of the year in a strange castle.
It didn't help the situation at all that he felt unsettled, though he could not place why. He had seen it on the faces of his men as well - they did not like the place. There was a gloom over it, ill hidden by the bright colors that fought in vain against the dreariness of winter. His examination of the king revealed a ruler much like any other; besides his apparent love of jewelry there was nothing noteworthy about him.
But a closer examination revealed that wasn't entirely true. There was something in his eyes, Galen realized. They looked…not quite right. He felt ill looking at them, and turned his gaze.
And wound up looking at someone who unsettled him even more than the king and his strange, unbalanced eyes.
Just to the right of the king's feet, seated on the steps leading up to the throne, was the court jester. His hair was a dark brown, worn to his shoulders and decked with beads and small bells. White paint covered his face, and each cheek was decorated with a small heart right beneath the eye, one black and one red. His lips were colored a rich, deep red, and he watched the prince with an expression that was oddly serious, out of place on his clownish face.
As with the king, it was his eyes that unsettled Galen. The jester's eyes were black, or at least so dark in color they appeared black. They gave the jester a dark, mysterious air, and Galen found it hard to look away.
"But you must be weary my prince, please do let one of my men escort you to your room."
Galen nodded, recalled from his musing. "I would deeply appreciate it, Highness."
'I will take him," the jester spoke in a voice that made Galen shiver in a way he had not in a long time. An easy grin shaped the jester's mouth as he turned to the king. "If you would be so kind as to permit me the honor, Majesty?"
The king nodded slowly, "As you like, Rune. The room in the west end?"
"Of course, I know where he is staying." The jester rose slowly to his feet, smoothing his bright red tunic and motioning to the prince. "Your highness, please do follow me."
Galen bowed once more to the king and then turned to follow the jester out.
Outside in the hallway, the jester turned and gave him a deep bow. "I am Rune, your highness. Entertainer to the king, as I am sure you noticed." He looked up, a slow smile curving his lips. Galen saw that his eyes weren't black, but a very dark green. "This way, your highness."
They walked in silence through the torch-lit hallways of the path. Galen wrapped his cloak tight, willing away the winter chill that could not be completely fended off. As they continued, the number of people milling around continued to diminish.
No one else was around when the jester spoke again, "There are rumors of you, your highness." His voice was soft, sly. Taunting.
Galen didn't like the tone. "Excuse you?"
"Rumors, highness. They say the High King rejected his eldest son as heir. They say that instead of taking the throne the former crown prince wanders from kingdom to kingdom, doing the work usually left to underlings."
"You are out of line."
Rune gave a careless shrug, "I speak only of what I hear, Highness. They interest me, rumors. Such an interesting mix of truth and falsehood." He looked over his shoulder, that slow smile still on his handsome face. "But I meant no offense. Do except my apologies."
"Just be silent."
"As you wish." The jester halted before a set of double doors, shoving them open and bowing with a flourish. "Your chambers, highness. I am sure you are too weary to dine with us this evening," he looked up through his lashes, "But tomorrow is the first ball, to start off the thee-day celebration. Do join us then, I promise it will be quite a treat. The king's balls are famous."
Galen only nodded, and vanished into his room.
*~*~*
"Good evening, Prince Galen," a sly voice greeted him at the door. "It is an honor to have you at our humble party."
Galen ignored the jester, who only laughed and danced away into the crowd, hard to miss in his green and orange ensemble, bells jingling with every movement. The prince approached the thrown, bowing to and greeting the king, who grinned and beckoned him closer. "Ah, Prince Galen. I see you decided to join us. What do you think of my ball?"
"It is truly as magnificent as they say, King." Galen was impressed by the ballroom and it's decoration, a magnificent imitation of a palace of ice without the unbearable cold. Crystal and glass sparkled everywhere, dazzling the eye where it caught the light. Across the dance floor couples whirled and spun, a dizzying movement of color nearly as blinding as the light. Despite the grandeur he could not escape the feeling that…something dark…lurked just beneath the surface. He tried in vain to shake the feeling off.
"You should dance, Prince. I guarantee there is no shortage of ladies that would love to show you the dance floor."
"I am a terrible dancer," Galen replied, "So if you will forgive me, I will keep to watching the festivities."
The king nodded, "As you wish. By all means keep me company, and tell me of your travels."
Galen nodded, and spoke with the king as they watched the dancers and chatted with the occasional noble. Irritably he forced himself to ignore the unsettled feeling that persisted in the presence of the king. Mustering all the cheer he could, he launched into a tale of the time he and his men got lost in a forest. But halfway through the story, the king's face drained of all color. The prince realized he was staring at the crowd and turned with a frown to look.
Approaching them was what had to be the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. He could not tear his eyes away. The man was young, not more than eighteen years or so. Only a few years younger than Galen's own twenty-four. His hair was as black as the finest ink, straight and cut to frame his elegant face. Bright green eyes stared unwaveringly at the seated king, set off by a tunic as golden as the sun.
In a rough, oddly hoarse voice the man spoke, "Your Majesty." He knelt before the king, his head bowed low.
"Wh-Who are you?" The King stuttered, his own light brown eyes wide with barely contained fear. Around him the ballroom had fallen into a shocked silence. Galen frowned, confused and concerned.
The stranger seemed unaffected, "I am no on, majesty. I come only to bring you a paltry gift." He looked up, green eyes seeming to burrow into the King, who was now trembling slightly. Gold flashed as he tossed a small object into the King's lap. Only Galen heard the thin cry of dismay.
Standing and bowing once more, the man spun and walked through a crowd that moved hastily out of his way. Befuddled completely, Galen glanced back at the king and the object he held in one trembling hand.
A golden broach, engraved with a rose.
The stranger's visit had effectively killed the festive mood, and Galen wasted no time departing. He strolled through the halls in the direction of his room, ignoring all who spoke to him.
Before he could enter his chambers, a sly, alluring voice spoke from behind. "There are rumors of the King, you know."
"No, I do not. Leave me alone, jester."
Rune laughed, "They say the king did dark, dark things when the Queen died. That he lost all sense."
"You speak in riddles, and I do not care for your words anyway." Galen glared at him, "In fact, I do not care at all for a man who would speak against his king."
"I do not speak against the king," the jester said. "I speak only of silly rumors, gossip to entertain when the dark and cold grow unbearable. They say the king made a promise to his beloved queen, a promise that drove him to madness."
Galen glared, "I do not want to hear it."
"You do not like rumors? But they're so interesting."
"No, I do not. Nor do I like a man who would so gleefully tell them to a passing stranger."
The jester smiled, "Then I shall tell you a story instead."
"I do not need to be entertained, Jester. Be off with you."
"But it's such an interesting story. About a kingdom ruled not only by a king but also by a queen of such beauty, none could surpass her. The king adored her, and she him. It is said that they fell in love at first sight, and forgot all else."
Galen sighed, his head knocking against the door. Vainly he willed his feet to move, to carry him into his room and the quiet he would find there. But the jester's sly voice was also smooth and warm, compelling Galen to listen despite his loathing to hear the story.
"Beautiful but ultimately of poor health, the Queen grew ill one winter and never recovered. With her last breath, they say she begged her husband to marry only a woman of equal or greater beauty. Miserable, the King of course promised. The Queen passed away."
Rune crossed the hall and opened the Prince's door, "Come, it's cold out here. Let us continue in your room?"
"Go away," Galen said desperately. But the deep green eyes and warm voice were hard to resist, and he permitted the unsettling jester to follow him. He settled before the fire as Rune continued his tale.
"I mean you no harm, Prince." The jester said, settling on the floor before the fire and staring up at the seated prince.
Galen sighed, "I do not trust you, nor do I like your story. But…"
"But winter nights are long and cold and lonely." The jester smirked, "And some company is better than none. I promise my tale is interesting. Now where was I? Ah yes, the Queen passed away. The King went into deep mourning for two years, and naught could shake him from it. But at last his advisors convinced him he needed a new Queen, and reluctantly he agreed. However he also recalled the precious promise made to his beloved wife, and relayed it to his advisors, who were dismayed at the stipulation. Never the less, they scoured the land for a woman of impossible beauty."
"And failed utterly," the Jester said softly. His painted lips looked black in the firelight, the bright colors of his costume faded. "No where in the kingdom could they find a woman as beautiful as the former queen. Her hair was as black as night and her skin as pale as winter, but she had eyes the color of spring. And her equal did not exist. The advisors gave up and begged the king to marry someone else, even offering several fine candidates."
His voice turned somber, all sly humor vanished. Galen had forgotten he did not want to hear the story, lulled by the voice that told it and the intensity with which the tale was told. "But the King in the midst of the search was still deep in grief, so lost to it that his mind was growing unstable. And lost in that misery, they say he found a fitting wife right there in his own castle. During the festivities at year's end."
"You see the Queen and King, early on in their marriage, bore a child. A daughter…who was in every way the very image of her mother. And at eighteen she was far from being a child…"
Galen felt a sudden chill, "I think I like this story even less than I did before."
"She was quite a lovely young woman," the jester did not pause, "And the king in his haze of grief and growing madness, took it into his head to marry his daughter. Of course his advisors were horrified, and his daughter when she learned of his plans was terrified. More than that however, she was concerned for her father. Until the last she was certain he could be saved from the madness that was consuming him."
"But the King would not be dissuaded. To stall him, in one last desperate bid to get him to see reason, his daughter commanded four items of clothing be made that she properly celebrate her wedding. Her hope was that he would be unable to make the clothes, or that it would take so long he overcame his grief and called the wedding off."
"First she commanded a wedding dress be made, as white and golden as the sun. And so the king had it made. Second she commanded a dress for her bridal ball, a dress of shimmering silver to rival the moon. And so the king had it made. The daughter and advisors grew more desperate, but the King was more relentless than ever. So she requested next a dress as magnificent as the night sky, sparkling with stars. And so the king had it made. Lastly she requested a fine cloak, to ward off the chill as they traveled on their wedding journey. A cloak to which every creature in the forest must contribute a piece - a cloak made from one thousand furs."
"And so the king had it made, and at the last the daughter panicked and tried to flee…" Rune fell silent.
Galen frowned, and said nothing.
At last Rune resumed speaking, voice heavy. "The story takes an even darker turn here, and I will not speak of it. Suffice to say that the king was displeased with her attempts to flee, and by force made her his bride. As the months went on she tried many times to escape her unhappy life, by ending it completely. But she was with child, and the King and advisors kept strict watch over her."
"The child was born, and believing her exhausted all left her in peace. Deep in the night the woman took her baby and fled forever, kept warm by a cloak made from one thousand furs. She took with her nothing save three pieces of jewelry, precious to her as memories of happier times. A ring, a necklace, and a broach, all made of solid gold. Where she went, it isn't known. But none ever saw her again."
Grimacing, Galen spoke. "Not a happy tale, jester. I thought your task was to make people laugh and enjoy life."
"Life is hard to enjoy when you live buried in dark secrets. After his daughter-bride ran away, the King seemed actually to regain some of his senses. Or at least he pretends. But all who dwell in the castle whisper of his darker days, his advisors dread any mention of it and the King himself waits in misery for the day he must face his crimes. A pall hangs over this place, for everyone feels guilty for doing something - or nothing."
Galen nodded absently in acknowledgement, no longer able to deny to himself the unsettling feel of the castle and its king. "I do not appreciate your relating such a horrendous story, jester. Leave me."
"As you wish."
Rune paused in the doorway, "There will be another ball tomorrow. We look forward to your presence, highness." He pulled the door firmly shut as he left.
*~*~*
"Highness, you are looking most well this evening." The jester smiled, examining Galen in his dark blue tunic, shot with pale silver to emphasize his long, pale hair. "We are most flattered you have deigned to join us another evening." With a smirk the jester bowed and disappeared into the crowd.
Sighing Galen once more made his way to the throne, greeting and conversing with a noticeably distracted King. He frowned, "Majesty, are you well? You are not yourself this evening."
"I am fine, thank you. Are you enjoying your stay, Prince Galen?"
"Your hospitality is most grand, King."
The king only nodded, eyes wandering nervously from the entry way and around the ballroom. The dizzying whirl of colors made it hard to see anything, and he attempted to focus on his discussion with the prince.
Bells struck the tenth hour, and the dancing and laughing continued on uninterrupted. But a sigh of relief turned into a pained gasp as cries of dismay shattered the waltzing on the dance floor and a man of unsurpassed beauty approached the dais where the king sat fearfully in his throne. He was dressed in tunic of such delicate, shimmering silver it rivaled the moon.
The man knelt, and spoke in his hoarse voice. "Majesty, a token gift." A flash of movement and a glitter of gold, and soundlessly an object landed in the king's lap. None made a move to stop the man as he turned and left the ballroom.
With a thoughtful frown, Galen watched the stranger vanish. Shaking off his thoughts, he turned to examine the newest object.
A golden necklace, from hung a golden rose.
Galen bowed shortly and quickly exited the ballroom.
Waiting for him outside his rooms was Rune, mysterious and strange in the wavering light of the torches. His purple costume and white face added to the effect. "Have you another unhappy tale for me, jester?"
"Only rumors."
"Then by all means come and keep me from a peaceful rest."
Laughter rippled through the dark hallway, fading as Rune followed behind Galen into the prince's chambers. They settled by the fire, the prince in his chair and Rune close to his feet.
"What rumors have you to speak of tonight?"
Rune flicked his dark eyes at the prince, and then stared into the fire. "They say there is strife in the kingdoms to the east. That the High King plans to send an emissary there to quell things before the strife spirals out of control and into war."
"There is much truth to those rumors."
"They say the east is always warm, and never endures the bite of ice and snow."
Galen smiled, "That, I do not know."
"They say that the High King plans to send his eldest son to serve as emissary. That he hopes to lose his son there, that his second son will suffer no problems when he is named crown prince."
"More fact than fiction. And here I was starting to think your rumors were all pleasant tonight." Galen lost all traces of good humor.
Rune shrugged, "If rumors were nothing but pleasant, they would not be any fun to spread. They say that the King here is going insane again, shouting and screaming in his room these past two nights until exhaustion wears him out. That the kingdom will not last much longer."
"That does not surprise me. Have you anything else to tell me, jester?"
"Nothing more tonight, highness."
"Then leave me in peace."
"As you wish." Rune once more paused in the doorway.
Galen spoke first, "I shall attend the ball tomorrow."
The jester departed.
Several minutes later, Galen rose. He made his way slowly through the winding halls of the palace, headed for the rooms where his guard abided.
*~*~*
The cheer that night was forced. A pal hung over the festivities that even the splendor of the ballroom and lilting dance tunes could not dismiss. The crowd danced and chatted and played at being gay but their efforts fell notably flat.
On the throne the king sat in rigid silence, barely returning Galen's polite greeting. Rather than make an attempt at conversation, Galen took his seat beside the king and waited as the hours ticked slowly by. His eyes skimmed the crowd for a man decked out in yellow and blue but did not locate him. Unsurprised, the prince settled back in his seat and waited.
As the clock hands approached eleven, several pained cries from the crowd announced the arrival of the dreaded stranger. He wore a tunic of pure black, shot threw with diamonds so that it seemed he was dressed in a night sky, sparkling with stars. The king's face was pale as the dark-haired man approached and knelt before the throne.
His voice was still rough, but his tone was void of the politeness used the previous two days. "Father," the man said slowly. He seemed not to hear the sounds of discord and dismay that rose up around them, his green eyes focused solely on the pale-faced king. "One last gift I have to bestow." The briefest hint of gold flashed in the sparkling light, and the object landed in the King's lap. Then the man turned to leave. Guards approached him at the bidding of panicked advisor, but one look into his now deep-green eyes had them reeling back. The stranger left in peace.
Galen spared a brief glance at the king's lap, though he already knew what he would see there.
A golden ring, decorated with a rose signet.
Ducking out of the ballroom through a side door, the prince headed for his chambers.
A man stopped him - the captain of Galen's guard. "Sire? Do you still intend?"
"Yes. This very night."
"As you command, Sire. We will be waiting."
Galen nodded and continued on toward his chambers.
The hallway outside was empty…but his door was partially open. Galen stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him. He glanced toward the fireplace - a familiar figure was in his seat.
"When did you figure it out?" A soft, alluring voice asked from the depths of the chair.
Galen walked towards Rune, who watched him in both curiosity and anxiety. Ink-black hair fell into his bright green eyes, fingering playing nervously with the diamonds woven into the dark fabric of his tunic.
"It wasn't hard. You sought me out in hopes I'd deduce it. But it's also your eyes - dark or light, that green is distinctive."
Rune nodded, watching the flames for a moment.
"What do you intend to do now?" Galen asked softly.
"I don't know. I…had intended to kill him, at the last. And was resigned to being killed thereafter."
Slowly the prince approached the chair and dropped to one knee before him, "You changed your mind?" his voice was still soft.
Rune's face twisted in pain, "He…my mother was never…she went mad in the end, could not even bare to look at me. She only told me the truth at the last, when the madness consumed her to the point she was unable to keep the secret from me." He did not seem to notice the tears falling down his face, "I hated him so much for it…wanted to see him suffer…all of them, who did nothing to save her. I've waited so long for the chance…eighteen, and the winter festivities at year's end. When her whole life fell apart…and then…"
"And then?"
The jester was slow to answer, "They say the King and Queen fell in love at first sight, and forgot all else around them. But they also say such a notion is foolishness."
"Not necessarily," Galen replied with a gentle smile.
Rune took a deep breath, wiping his eyes before he stared again at the prince. "There are rumors of you prince."
"Are there?"
"They say the High King rejected you as heir because you would never be able to give him grandchildren. That you cannot produce an heir of your own because women hold no appeal for you."
Galen smiled, "All truth, those rumors."
"Rumor has it you are going into the east, to put an end to the strife there. That you won't be coming back to the snow and cold, even when peace is achieved."
"Truth. I am tired of the rumors that chase me, and of the cold that beats down relentlessly the better part of every year. I go to the east, most likely never to return." Reaching out, Galen ran his fingers along dark hair that was every bit as soft as it appeared. From there he let his fingers trail down a tear-damp cheek and down slender arms to linger on hands cold with worry and fear. "But do you know the rumors that say how lonely it is? To be a prince rejected by his own father? To wander endlessly from place to place with only soldiers for friendly faces?"
Rune shook his head and spoke faintly, "No…I had not heard those rumors."
"Well, they are very much fact. They are problems that plague me relentlessly. But I think that if you come with me, we might solve both my problems and yours. What say you, Rune? Would you like to accompany me to the east?"
"I would," Rune managed a weak smile as he looked at Galen.
Galen nodded approval and stood, pulling Rune up with him. "Then we go this night, before trouble is given a chance to arrive. Come, my men are waiting for us."
"Oh." Rune said in surprise.
The prince smiled, throwing one of his spare cloaks around Rune's shoulders. " I am very much willing to believe that a King and Queen fell in love at first sight." Stepping in close he bent and captured Rune's mouth in a lingering kiss. "Because I saw you and forgot all else. And I would never have left this place without you."
Rune only nodded, unable to speak.
Galen smiled and drew the hood of Rune's cloak up, then led him out of the castle to where his men waited just beyond it.
Hosnatchery
Date: 2004-06-20 11:02 pm (UTC)