![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderr*~*~*~*
Marshall woke with a massive headache. He groaned, fingers curling around whatever they were touching in hopes that it was a blanket he could pull up over his head. But though they fastened on cloth, he realized immediately it wasn’t a blanket he was holding. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at Ike’s sleeping face.
Strange that Ike was still asleep. Usually he was up before Marshall. This was the first time Marshall had woken up first since they’d left the inn. Concerned, he reached out to feel Ike’s face, check that his temperature and breathing were as they should be.
All seemed well. Marshall sat up and brushed loose curls from Ike’s face, traced the curve of a fine cheekbone.
He half wished that the witch would trap them in the forest, so that he would not have to face the moment when they left, and Ike was once more a prince and he nothing but a wanderer, a former stable boy.
Well, he’d deal with that when he had to. Right now there was the problem of the witch. Leaving Ike to sleep a moment longer, Marshall forced himself up. He shivered as he stoked the fire.
The forest was far too quiet. It reminded him of the time he’d been dining in a bustling inn when news came that the king had died. A silence had fallen, thick and heavy. It had not broken until several women began to weep.
That was how this felt. As though any moment, the silence would be broken by the sound of weeping. Marshall hoped his just-awake mind was merely getting away from him. He sighed and stirred oats into boiling water to make porridge. Yawning, he looked around the clearing, expecting to see the ghosts from the night before.
Which brought all they’d said rushing back to him. Faerie. He was part faerie. That explained a lot of his father’s jealousy and his mother’s silence. If she was half-faerie she could have chosen to be faerie. Marshall laughed, thinking of how upset his shy, quiet father must have been to realize that he had to compete with faeries for his mother’s hand.
Testing the porridge, Marshall removed it from the fire and went to wake Ike. He hesitated, somehow loathe to wake him. Once he did, their time together would begin to end.
A chill raced up his spine, a sense that had developed after he’d nearly been bespelled by a witch. Marshall turned and stood in one smooth motion, immediately tense.
He wasn’t surprised to see the ghostly image of a woman, beautiful, dark and pale. But he knew a witch when he saw one, and no matter how lovely they were all ugly to him. “Witch.”
Her presence concerned him, though. Briar and Reynard had said they could keep her at bay. Then Marshall realized that they were. It was taking all they had, he bet, to keep her from actually harming Ike. “Why?” he asked. “Why do you want him so badly?”
The witch gave him a nasty smile, then faded away.
“What?”
“Hmm…” Ike said with a yawn. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Marshall stared at him. “I just saw her,” he said. “She smiled at me and vanished.”
“Taunting us, no doubt.” Ike was quick to wake, and in no time he was ready for the day, sliding his sword into place with a note of finality. “Come on, I’d rather get this over with as soon as possible. We have to find her den.”
“Yes,” Marshall said. All witches needed a central location from which to work. The trick, often, to killing a witch was finding her den. He had not realized until he began to learn more of witches, and assisted in killing a handful, how fortunate he’d been that his first witch had been arrogant and careless about her den. “But if Briar and Reynard could not find it, we don’t stand much of a chance.”
“We’ll find it,” Ike said tightly. “All these years keeping her locked away? I’m sure Briar and Reynard managed to find it at some point. They’ll show us where to find it.”
Marshall nodded and retrieved his bag of stones. “Lead the way then.”
Ike reached out and grabbed Marshall’s wrist, tugged him close. “Just don’t let her get me,” he said, brushing Marshall’s lips softly with his own.
“I won’t,” Marshall replied, swallowing the words he really wanted to say. No one can have you but me. How could he have been this stupid? First Caroline, and now Ike. Would he never find someone he could actually have?
He shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about it. Marshall led the way away out of camp, but as they traveled through the ruins of the castle to the deepest parts of the forest beyond, Ike slowly took the lead. Marshall bit back the urge to reach out and hold Ike’s hand in his own, knowing they both would need their hands free. “Have any idea where we’re going?” he asked, mostly to break the silence.
“Sort of,” Ike said with a frown. “I can feel them sort of…urging me on.”
“Why don’t they just appear and show us?” Marshall looked around, half-hoping the ghosts would appear, and instead only missed a tree root, which sent him tumbling right into Ike’s arms.
Ike chuckled softly as he righted Marshall. When they started walking again Marshall realized Ike kept hold of his hand. “Are you all right?”
“Headache,” Ike said. “And I can hear her in my head. I don’t think Briar and Reynard can just appear whenever they want. They have to…use us, I think. Ashley said that’s what it seemed like to him, later. Probably why we were so tired – and right now we can’t afford to be tired.”
Marshall nodded. He hoped whatever had happened to Ike yesterday wasn’t going to happen again. He’d seen it before, the way a witch could work magic even from a distance, preying on whatever minds were most vulnerable. It was especially bad if there was a blood connection. Marshall stared at the stone he pulled from his pouch for a moment, soothed by its familiar glow. He dropped it to the ground and pulled out another, dropping it after fifteen paces, a motion so familiar he no longer had to actually count his steps.
“Almost there,” Ike said, the faintest tremble in his voice. “I don’t understand why she’s not doing anything but…whispering. Yesterday she was doing her best to get to me. Now it’s like she’s lost interest.”
“I doubt that,” Marshall said. “I saw her this morning; clearly she’s interested. Perhaps she’s saving her strength to fight us at her den. The whispering is probably to intimidate you, throw you off balance.”
“Maybe,” Ike said.
They continued on in silence, reluctantly dropping their clasped hands as they became necessary simply to fight their way through trees and undergrowth.
Then suddenly they stumbled into a clearing, little more than a pool of black. It was completely void of anything else; like someone had simply stripped the place clear of everything. It was colder than ever, and Marshall felt as though he was standing, literally, in nothing. “But this isn’t so far from the castle,” he said in a whisper. “Why couldn’t they find her?”
“Not enough time?” Ike guessed. He drew his sword, then stopped, pressed a hand to his head. “And I don’t think we would have found it if Briar wasn’t guiding me along.” He groaned softly, swaying slightly.
“All right?” Marshal asked, coming up to steady him.
“Yeah,” Ike said, though he looked as though he were going to be violently ill. “I hate it when she laughs. And I can’t feel the presence of Briar like I could before. He’s gone completely silent.”
Marshall nodded. “Probably can’t penetrate this area; too dense with her power. I wonder how long she lived here, in secret, to have amassed such power.”
“Too long,” Ike said and pressed further into the clearing, one hand held out to see what his eyes could not.
Feeling ill himself, the dark field reminding him of a dark basement, Marshall let fall another stone. It glowed white in the dark, a reminder that more than darkness existed.
“There’s a cave,” Ike whispered. “We should have brought torches.”
They would do no good.
Both men spun around at the sound of the chilling whisper, braced themselves as the ghostly image of a woman appeared before them. Her smile was as cold as the air, and the darkness seemed to lap at her skirts, curl around her pale arms. Dark hair curled around her ears, the longest strands stopping just at her chin. It was strangely short for a woman – but not unusual for a witch, who would not want her hair in the way of her spells. Impatient with it, most witches simply cut it off.
A woman who had claimed to love a king, but had turned against him when that king chose another. Marshall could, to a point, understand. It was already breaking his heart to think of Ike someday choosing his own queen while the memory of a silly stable boy faded from his mind. But…he’d rather die than see harm come to Ike. Would rather kill himself than inflict that harm. “Witch,” he said, licking dry lips.
I’ve been waiting for you, pretty little prince. So like my Fay, you are. Her lips curled. And so much like that wretch. But he can’t touch me here; all he can do is keep me caged. Yet he was stupid enough to send you here, right into the one place where he has no power.
Marshall tensed, braced for whatever may come, and saw Ike do the same from the corner of his eye. He saw the witch move, heard Ike scream a hoarse No! Then there was only dark.
Ike screamed a denial, hoping somehow that it would help. He should have seen it, should have anticipated—
But it was too late. Marshall had fallen to whatever spell she had laid out beforehand, something he should have seen. And Marshall would get up any second now, and look annoyed that he’d fallen for a witch’s trick because he knew so much about them. Any second.
So still. How had he let it happen? It felt like something had been torn out of him, torn out and ripped to shreds.
Why didn’t Marshall stand up?
Biting back a sob, Ike faced the eerie, translucent woman approaching him. He should have known better! Wasn’t this why he’d wanted to come alone? So no one else would get hurt? And now Marshall was—
Dizziness hit him, wave after wave, and Ike realized that while he was agonizing, the witch was getting to him. Some hero he was! Reaffirming his grip on his sword, which shimmered ever so faintly in the light of the ghost and the glowing white stone, Ike struck out, dispelling the ghost, which would not stand up to the enchantments laid into the blade.
Not waiting to see if she would reappear, Ike turned and plunged into the unrelenting gloom behind him – the mouth of a cave.
He could see nothing. His sword shimmered faintly from the enchantments laid on it, but it wasn’t enough to see by. The cave was deep; it smelled of mold and animals long gone. There was also a lingering metallic smell to it; the scent of stale magic. “Why do you hate us so much?” he muttered, needing to hear something aloud, even if it was merely his own voice.
Your lover had much energy. A pity it was of no use to me.
“Shut up,” Ike said hoarsely.
They took what I most loved away from me. My king. My son. My freedom.
“I’ll set you free,” Ike said, hefting his sword. Then he saw it, in the farthest recesses of the gloom. A flicker of light radiating from the figure of a woman not really there.
She laughed at him. You cannot kill what is not there, my little prince. And if you kill me, you’ll never save your beloved.
“He—he’s not dead?”
Of course not. Do you want to save him?
Ike didn’t answer, but pressed on toward the glowing figure, finally reaching the back of the deep cave. The light increased as the witch murmured a soft incantation. Ike gasped at what was revealed.
A woman slept encased in glass – it looked like some strange coffin. She was beautiful, breathtakingly so. The ghostly image standing over it did not do the reality justice. He wondered what sort of woman would have so entranced a king that he turned this beauty aside.
Another soft incantation, and the glass vanished.
Wake me, pretty prince. Set me free and I will spare your man. Kill me, and he dies as well.
Ike’s sword clattered to the ground. He knelt before the sleeping woman, fingers ghosting over her pale skin and soft lips. His entire body felt drained, his head heavy, all of it too much.
And he knew suddenly that all he had to do was kiss her; a twisted play on her original curse. Ike closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. Then he pulled a dagger from his boot and plunged it into her chest.
It felt as if something in his head had burst, and Ike screamed in agony as the witch who had been lurking there, draining his life away, struggled even now to live. Then he felt cold.
Then nothing.
When he woke, it felt as though a horse had kicked him in the head. Over and over again. Ike groaned and mustered every curse he could think of.
“Feeling better?” a quiet, laughing voice asked.
Ike spun around, immediately regretted it, and stared at the translucent man before him.
Reynard laughed. “That headache will fade in a bit. Good job, by the way. Some of your ancestors have actually tried before to get rid of her, but none of them were up to it.”
Then it all came rushing back, and Ike fought back tears. “Marshall?” he asked hoarsely.
“Here,” Briar said, and Ike spun around, mindless of the pain in his head this time, to see Marshall curled up in the shade of a tree.
That’s when he suddenly realized that he was still in the Laughing Forest, only now it was green and bright, warm and alive. Overhead the sun was high in the sky, its light spilling down between the leaves of vibrant green trees, reflecting off the small pond nearby.
But none of that was half so important as the man who lay too still beneath the tree. Ike hugged him close, shaking with relief as he realized Marshall was still breathing. “She said he would die.”
“And he would have,” Reynard said. “Except that he has faerie blood. Even so diluted, it has a resistance against witch magic.” He brushed strands of hair from Briar’s face as the prince drew close to him. “Faeries do not fall easily to anything.”
Ike watched them, entranced for a moment by what he saw between them, but he could not be distracted from Marshall for long. “Will he wake up?”
It was Briar who laughed this time, as he settled into the arms that wrapped around him. “If you wake him in the traditional manner. Take care of our forest, Prince Ike.” As he watched, Briar and Reynard faded away into the sunlight, until nothing remained but the echoes of laughter and a lingering scent of roses.
“Traditional manner?” Ike asked. Then he laughed, and bent to give Marshall a kiss.
*~*~*~*
Ike groaned as they left the forest, unsurprised to see the guards and one lone nobleman waiting for him. At the head of the assembled guards was a large man with icy blue eyes. Beside him was a much more slender man with floppy brown hair and a sympathetic smile.
“Good morning, Highness,” the slender man said. “I see your goal was accomplished.”
“What are you doing here?” Ike demanded. “I said I’d come back – didn’t anyone believe me? Come on, Ashley. I expected this from Jeremiah, but not from you!” He turned away from glaring at the guards when he felt Marshall trying to pull away from him, tightening the grip he had on Marshall’s hand. “That’s Ashley,” he said pointing. “The one glaring at me is Jeremiah. They’re the Head Librarian and Captain of the Guard, respectively.”
Jeremiah dismounted. “Your father is waiting with bated breath to wring your neck, Ike.”
“Isn't he always?” Ike asked, making a face. “Look, I’m alive, I’m healthy – really tired – and whole.” He squeezed Marshall’s hand. “Definitely whole.”
“Oh?” Ashley asked, dismounting far less gracefully than Jeremiah had. “Who is this?”
Ike dragged Marshall forward. “This is Marshall. He helped me kill the witch. And he’s mine. If father is going to pitch a fit about it, we’re leaving right now.” He grinned. “Trust me when I say no one will find us in this forest unless we allow it.”
Ashley’s brows went up, and he exchanged a silent look with Jeremiah.
“I think,” Jeremiah said at last, “that your father will be grateful to see that you’ve found an anchor. By this point, he will take what he can get.” He looked at Marshall. “Though I’m very sorry our prince seems to have beguiled you. If you need help putting him in his place, I’ve found that pitching him in the lake is quite effective.”
“Hey!” Ike howled in outrage and made to lunge at the smirking Captain when Marshall started laughing.
“I have a few tricks of my own,” Marshall said, smiling. “But the lake is duly noted.”
Ike made a face. “Didn’t I say you’d get along splendidly with them?”
“Are you certain it’s all right?” Marshall asked, levity fading.
“Yes, yes, and yes.” Ike said. “I wouldn’t care if it wasn’t. You’re my faerie, and I’m keeping you. If people don’t like it, I’ll order Jeremiah to pitch them in the lake.”
Jeremiah’s eyes took on a gleam. “Whatever you say, Highness.”
Ashley rolled his eyes at both of them. “Come, let us get you home before your father decides to declare war on someone.” When they were all mounted and ready to ride, Ashley resumed speaking. “Now, tell us your story.”
“Well,” Ike said with a grin, “it all began with a dragon.”
“What!”
Laughing at their panicked expression, avoiding falling off his horse only because Marshall held on to him, Ike started again. “It actually begins with a cute faerie…”
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:00 am (UTC)I just sort of melted from the gooey, warm, loveliness of it all.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:09 am (UTC)Heh. I'll take that as a good thing ^_~
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:14 am (UTC)Then there's a beat and she says, "It's... amazing how much gay there is in one family."
Look, I thought it was funny. XD
PS - YAY A FAIRYTALE. I do so love it when you write these. ;)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:26 am (UTC)LMAO. I guess the ratio is high. Then agian, how many relatives are left out of the story? Hee hee hee. Your sister sounds like she listens to your rambles a lot.
^____^ *loves you*
For like the up-teenth time
Date: 2006-03-20 12:04 am (UTC)I do so love that line. *happy happy sigh* It's just so sweet. ^_^
Re: For like the up-teenth time
Date: 2006-03-20 12:10 am (UTC)Hee hee. ^_^
Re: For like the up-teenth time
Date: 2006-03-20 12:12 am (UTC)You are ever awesome in you fairy tales. *_*
Re: For like the up-teenth time
Date: 2006-03-20 12:27 am (UTC)Heh. I'm just glad someone is noticing the connection to Bridegroom ^_____^ And Black Mountain was too easy to throw in; it seemed the sort of thing Marshall would have heard about.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 01:01 am (UTC)EIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! *tackle fangirls*
Date: 2006-03-20 01:11 am (UTC)They are so, so, so cute. *hearts madly* I love the way Ike ends up defeating the witch and I love that Marshall was part faerie. ^___________^!!
And Briar! And Reynard!!!! *tackle loves* So Cool!! *_________*!!
Laughing at their panicked expression, avoiding falling off his horse only because Marshall held on to him, Ike started again. “It actually begins with a cute faerie…”
The perfect ending, if there ever was one. *hearts*
You rock. *tackle glomps* So, so much. ^___________^!!
Re: EIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! *tackle fangirls*
Date: 2006-03-20 01:20 am (UTC)^____^ *loves you* I am glad you enjoyed. And now you must humor a poor author and tell me if you know what story Marshall is from (b/c I don't recall who knew and who didn't).
Re: EIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! *tackle fangirls*
Date: 2006-03-20 02:26 am (UTC)So, of course, I had to go running back to see which story it was he was from. ;______; That story is so, so sad. It ends happily...for pretty much everyone but Marshall.
^_____^ And I adore that you gave him such a happy ending in this one. *hearts* (I like too, that I didn't have to know who Marshall was before reading this to still fall in love with his character. ;3 He's a sweetie.)
Eieeee! (As an aside, how the hell did I miss that story? O_o;; It was sooooo good. ;_; Not a lot like most of your other stories, I have to say, but still incredibly good. A part of me really likes that it didn't neatly tie things up at the end and that the ending of the witch prompts Marshall to realize that as much as he loves Caroline, she's not his to have. *hearts muchly*)
You are incredible. *tackle glomps* Simply and unbelievably incredible. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise. ^_______^
Re: EIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! *tackle fangirls*
Date: 2006-03-20 02:58 am (UTC)I was always rather pleased with that one. I wrote it for...Yuletide? I think, and I was sort of flummoxed by the fact that it should be het >_>;;; But Robber Bridegroom is one of my favorites, and after much whining to Samantha and Ki-chan I got it to work. But I always felt bad for Marshall ;_; then lo, he decided Ike was his.
Thankee ^__^ When someday the critics destroy me, I shall remember your kind words and stick my tongue out at them.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 01:25 am (UTC)*happyhappysparklesparkle* ^____________________^
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 01:28 am (UTC)^_^
All those? There's really only two in here ^^ Hee hee. Given how horrible this was to start, I owe my betas much MUCH gratitude.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 02:59 am (UTC)Lol. Here I was really only counting Rose and Fox and Caroline's Bridegroom. Though I don't think Black Mountain should count, since it gets all of a sentence.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 02:01 am (UTC)You know, the novel could always get done someday. Or just a collection of all the fairy tales in one volume. I'd buy a bunch. Great to give as gifts!
Saving up for lulu as it is. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 02:16 am (UTC)I liked this one, its sweet.:)
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 02:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:00 am (UTC)Please tell me you're going to put all the previous stories dealing with this and the ones you reference into a book? I would buy it in a heartbeat.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:07 am (UTC)Working on it ^_^ Just trying to finish enough fairytales to make a book worth buying. I just finished another one, and am currently rewriting one b/c it needs polishing.
I guess this means you get to live, Lohr/Daniel or no
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:39 am (UTC)There is this thought in my head that, 10 yrs from now I'll be reading them to my kids and there'll be these wonderful illustrations so that even they can figure out - that's Briar from that other story! And when they get to read it themselves, they'll link the others to other stories and be all amazed...
This one would be the final story in the storybook (since by then they'd be published) and then they'd want me to buy another book of the fairytales :)
See, this is what you do to me - your stories are not just nostalgic (making me remember the blissful happiness of reading fairytales) but also wake me wonder about things I never wonder about!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 04:48 am (UTC)This is a GREAT sequel! The only comment I have would be that you might want to extend the final conflict just a bit more, perhaps explain why Ike, who loves Marshall, decides to kill the witch despite her curse. Otherwise it makes little sense.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 05:35 am (UTC)But... *tilt* have we met Ashley and Jeremiah before? For some reason, they feel familiar... and then not... though then again, I wouldn't mind reading their story... *coughs and looks innocent*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 10:25 am (UTC)Yep. Ashley and Jeremiah were from another fairytale, 'the tale of the laughing forest' ^_^
no subject
Date: 2006-03-21 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 11:22 am (UTC)Oh, this is just classic you.
Damn, I love your fic. You're soooooooooooooooooo good.
*fangirling for ya*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 12:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 04:18 pm (UTC):3 cross-story references, yay! ♥
no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 05:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-20 09:39 pm (UTC)So, err... SQUEEE!
::loves story::
no subject
Date: 2006-04-09 07:56 pm (UTC)