The scent of priceless vanilla and the sound of sobs swept by the armored knight in a blur of purple pastels and long, tangled hair, disappearing around the corner before being silenced with a loud Bang!
Oh, lord, what could it possibly be now? They knew that the princess— their royal charge— and her mother, the empress, were always at odds when it came to the politics of the kingdom. But to see the ever proud, ever elegant princess, flee in a fit of tears, was quite, well… rare.
The knight checked the corridor's hall in both directions, making sure no one would see them leave their post, before heading after the princess. Her chambers were at the end of the hall just after the door, the heavy doors still unable to fully muffle the sounds of her loud sobbing. Gods above, what could have possibly happened this time? The empress was a vile woman, yes, with a poisonous tongue. But the princess, Nicolette, was of strong mind; nary a tear she ever wept under her imperial majesty's wicked lectures. For she herself was just as loud mouthed, twice as hard headed, and thrice as intelligent. Perhaps it was why the empress seemed to hate her daughter so.
The knight knocked on the foreboding door, letting themself in when there was no reply.
The sight before them was truly pitiful; Nicolette had thrown herself at her bedside, clinging to the thick, winter sheets as she sobbed hysterically. Her long, beautiful brown hair was a tangled mess, having come undone in her state of woe, leaving tangled tresses down the length of her back, all the way down to the floor. She sobbed so hard that she was short of breath, hiccupping between broken wails of utter despair.
For a second, the knight considered if something truly terrible had happened, such as a spontaneous death, or even worse, an attack-
Another long, drawn wail made the knight refocus their attention. Regardless, the princess needed them. And she needed them right *now.
They came to her side, resting their hands on her shoulders and squeezing her gently, to try and get her attention.
"Your highness, I'm here," The knight spoke softly, their voice slightly muffled through the helm that covered their face. "Whatever ails ye, I'm here to save ye from it. So please, tell me, what happened, my princess? What causes such anguish?"
The Princess finally lifted her face from her bedsheets, her imported makeup smeared into a ghastly mess. Her puffy lips glistened and her tear filled eyes glimmered as if they were filled with stars, and the knight felt a pang of guilt at finding her to be so beautiful, even in such a state as this.
"Oh!" She wailed, throwing herself into her knight's arms, the armor clattering against her embrace. "Oh, Sir Samuel, i-it's awful! Awful! No good! T-Terrible!"
"What's awful? What's terrible? Speak, my little star-"
"M-My Mother!" Nicolette clamored, barely able to contain herself through her hysterics. "The Empress! Sh-She's gone mad! Mad, I tell you! C-Completely and utterly stark-raving!"
"Her majesty's feeble mind has always paled in comparison to your brilliance," Samuel reassured, trying not to get the princess' hair caught in their gauntlets. "How much more mad can she possibly get?"
"She's using me as a pawn to end the war with the drakes." She spat, her jaw clenching visibly. "Instead of heeding my advice to open the southern borders for trade, which would help feed this winter's famine, sh-she, she's…"
Nicolette's hand covers her mouth, her face contorting into a pained grimace.
Samuel's hand cups the princess' face tenderly, seeing a type of pain they've never quite seen before. The princess had a frail constitution, and experienced ailments such as aches and fatigue, but this was… this was the look of someone who was experiencing nothing but sheer agony. To see such pain twisting the princess' delicate features made Samuel's heart ache.
"Slowly, my little star, my princess," The knight crooned, petting her cheek with cool, plated fingers. "Slowly, now. Do not lose thyself to despair."
She choked out a little sob, leaning into the knight's gentle touch, lips trembling.
"...She's offered my hand in mar… i-in marriage…" Nicolette whispered, the words hardly audible as they spilled past her lips. "For his imperial m-majesty of the south, The King in Black, is perpetually young… m-my age… and has no consort, nor betrothed, to speak of…"
Something akin to ice seemed to seep into the depths of Samuel's soul, seizing their heart and freezing their mind, forcing them into a stunned stillness.
Marriage?
The princess sniffled, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm and down her wrist, leaving a wet trail across her skin.
"Th-The King in Black," Samuel finally muttered, the shock of this knowledge leaving their mouth dry. "B-But he's, h-he's… He's not even a man, he's a monster!"
"A monster! Y-Yes!" Nicolette cried out, her eyes leaking more tears. "So you see why I'm all but lost to despair already!"
Realization made the ice surrounding Samuel's heart shatter, the broken pieces turning to steel blades, striking fear and rage deep into their heart.
"She's making you into a sacrificial bride!" Samuel declared, helping the princess up from the floor and guiding her to sit on the bed. "She knew she could not convince you to join the sister's convent, nor convince you to become the maid to some plebeian, so she's doing away with you outright!"
Nicolette nodded in confirmation, her long hair falling over her shoulder and veiling part of her face.
"Precisely. And because the arrangements were done in secret, it is already too late for me to decline. It is, i-it is now royal decree…"
She sighed heavily, the long breath she took turning into choppy, stuttering sobs. She held her hands to her chest, as if she was trying to stop her heart from breaking and falling apart.
The knight's vision blurred, tears hidden behind their helm threatening to spill over. They were her highness' charge, her sworn protector. Her blade. Her shield. They were supposed to protect her from harm, and yet… And yet…
…No.
No. This could not be allowed. Samuel could not, would let this happen.
Princess Nicolette was a visionary, a guiding star for the people of the kingdom of Astoria. Her political prowess and innovation of the scientific and arcane arts made her a revolutionary in every sense of the word. She had dedicated every living moment to aiding her subjects suffering under her mother's rule as best she could. They would not let the cruelty of the empress snuff out her light.
"Your highness, tell me, when do you depart?" The knight demanded, standing tall before her.
"Tomorrow, at dawn…" She responded, sniffling. "It is a long way to the kingdom to the south, so it will take a sennight upon horseback-"
"Horseback?! Your own mother cares naught to even provide you the comfort of a carriage?! It's winter! You are feeble!"
"I will die anyways," Nicolette interjected, her voice coated with despondence. "Whether I die in sacrifice, or die in my travels, matters naught to her majesty, my mother."
"Bullshit!" Samuel spat, snatching Nicolette's hands into their own, holding them tightly. "That's it! I'm going with you, Nikki! I promised as your charge, that I will always protect you! It was your mother's royal decree, and so long as that evil bitch lives, I will fulfill it!"
Nicolette's eyes widened, her brows knitting tightly together in concern.
"Sir Samuel, I-I… You…"
"Tomorrow, at dawn, I will ride out with you." The knight declared, placing Nicolette's hands on their breastplate. "My fealty will always be to you, my princess. You have my word as a knight. Your knight…"
Tears anew sprang forth from Nicolette's bleary gaze, a smile feigning upon her lips.
"Th-Thank you, Sir Samuel. Thank you…"
"Of course, for you are my little star. I won't ever let you fall." The knight brushed their thumb across Nicolette's cheek, swiping away a stray tear. "Since we leave at dawn, you should rest now. I will go ahead and begin preparations for the journey tomorrow. I'll try to make it as accommodating as I can for you…"
——————————
Days have already passed since their departure on that cold, snowy morning, and they passed mostly in silence. It wasn't until the fourth night did the sullen silence finally break.
Raiders.
Raiders had taken the camp in the night, and while Sir Samuel was able to fight off the majority of them, Nicolette had sustained a minor injury on top of her already frail constitution. And her mare, Twilight, was unfortunately slain in the confrontation, with what little belongings she was carrying being taken by the escaping raiders.
The attack had already lowered the dangerously low morale, Nicolette now mourning not just life as she knows it, but her beloved mare and precious belongings. Sir Samuel did their best to try and lift Nicolette's spirits, but they were heavy as lead, so they decided it would perhaps be better to shoulder her burdens for her than to try and lift them entirely.
By morning of the fifth day, it seemed that the gods had decided to offer the two of them a reprieve from their woesome journey, as the scent of sulphur tinged the air. A spring of fresh water steamed heavily off in the distance, its rocky shore entirely untouched by the winter's snow.
A hot spring, however small, warmed by the volcanic activity just below the surface.
"Princess, look," The knight called for her attention, trying to rouse her from her exhaustion. "A hot spring up ahead. I know you must be suffering from your ailments. A warm bath should surely help ye, aye? We'll be there shortly, okay? Just a little longer."
The princess did not respond, her head resting heavily against Samuel's back. They made sure that Nicolette's hands were still clasped firmly around their waist, urging Daybreak, their steed, to go faster. The less the princess had to wait, the better.
Her quiet demeanor had not changed once they got to the rocky shore. Sir Samuel dismounted first, reaching up to grab the princess by her waist, helping her down as gently as they could manage. She shivered fiercely against the frigid winds, her thin gown missing the appropriate layers that were supposed to go with it. They cursed those damned raiders. If it wasn't for them, Nicolette's suffering wouldn't be so great as it was now.
"Here, your highness. The rock underfoot is quite warm from the spring. Your feet shan't suffer from frost's bite if you remove your boots. Let me help you."
The princess just nodded, allowing the knight to take a knee and help unravel the bindings of the worn leather boots. As beautiful as they were, they were not a practical boot, unbefitting for long travels and already wearing thin.
What's worse, upon removing the boots, Samuel could see the true condition the princess' feet were in. The back of her ankles were blistered raw and bloody from the lack of proper padding, staining her heels with blood. Moreso, the toes of her feet were almost purple, the lack of insulation making them ice-cold and swollen to the touch.
"Why did you not tell me?"
She didn't respond immediately, looking as if she was contemplating whether to say anything at all. But she finally spoke, her voice uncharacteristically small.
"...You already worry so much… I thought if I could deal with it, it'd lessen your burden…"
To hear the princess sound so meek, so tired, it tormented their soul. Without hesitation, Samuel lifted her off her feet, earning a shocked gasp from her highness.
"S-Sir! P-Please!"
"Oh, hush you," The knight stopped her before she could even begin, guiding her arms around their neck so she could hold onto them better. "Just as Christ carried the cross, I too, shall carry you. For you are of no burden to me, my little star. So, please,"
The warm, fine gravel crunched underfoot as they carried Nicolette to the water, the winter winds warmed by the steam of the spring.
"Put all your faith into me, as I, you."
Nicolette opened her mouth to protest, but found that she could not find the words, so she fell silent once more.
The black, volcanic gravel eventually turned to a dark, shining sand underfoot, soft enough to finally let the princess down and stand on her own.
"Will you allow me to help you undress, Nikki?" The knight inquired, holding their arm out to take in case Nicolette was too tired to stand on her own. "I know the palace would have my head for it if I offered assistance back then. But it's of no consequence now. If you are tired, then please, ask for my help."
She loops her arm around Samuel's armored arm, holding herself steady. She was so exhausted that even the winds seemed like a fierce opponent.
Surely, if Samuel had offered this kind of assistance back at the palace, the scandal would prove fatal. But this wasn't the palace, and the princess had no other help otherwise.
"...You dare not peek?"
"Nay," The knight shakes their head, the metal clanking with the motion. "I'd sooner throw myself upon mine own blade than lay eyes upon your defenseless form."
"Ah," She replies faintly, and through the veil of her long hair, they can see that her face had turned quite red. "Then… Then, i-if you could, p-perhaps, help me undress…"
"Say no more, your highness." Samuel replied, turning Nicolette around so her back faced them. "After you finish bathing, I will come back to fetch you, and then I'll try to wash the garments as best I can…"
Try as they may, Samuel couldn't help but feel their heart begin to flutter in their chest as they fumbled with the ribbons and buttons that fastened the princess' gown. She was supposed to have many more layers, but after the raiders had made off with most of her belongings, she was left with nothing more than just her slip, and a heavy petticoat to cover it.
But holy hell, why did just one garment need so many damned fasteners?! It would be more effective to just rip this damned thing off!
Then they blushed at the thought. Ripping off her dress, the fluttering ruffles falling to the ground, revealing Nicolette's delicate curvature-
Dread stopped Samuel dead in their tracks. After watching her slip fall away, instead of seeing beautiful, unblemished olive skin like they were expecting, they were met with the sight of hideous bruises. From the inside of her thighs and down the span of her legs, layers of pinks, purples and blues painted her soft skin.
Panic sunk its claws into their mind. The knight forcibly turned Nicolette around to face him, and despite her protest, panic had turned into almost downright hysteria at the sight.
Her groin and her waist were also bruised something terrible, as if she had… as if she…
…The Raiders.
"Did they do this?!" The knight demanded, their hands on her shoulders trying not to shake out of sheer desperation. "They did this, didn't they?! Nikki! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I would have-"
"Its not what you think!" She interrupted, placing her hands on their breastplate to try and stop them. "I assure you, I-I came to no serious harm! The bruises, th-they're from the saddle! The saddle!"
"The saddle?!" They repeated, astonished.
"Yes! Yes, the saddle! I noticed them on the first eve, as we had travelled all day that day."
"Then what of this?!" They asked, placing their hands on Nicolette's naked waist, over the bruises she had there as well.
"From you, you dunce!" She spat. "From you lifting me from horseback! Your gauntlets, they're very hard-"
Samuel looked down at their armored hands, then at the mottled spots on her skin. The panic that had seized them so thoroughly had turned into shocked embarrassment, realizing that she was indeed right: the bruises on her waist fit the exact span of the knight's hands.
"Since you promised that you wouldn't peek," The princess started, grabbing the knight's hands from off her waist and turning her back to them once more. "I expect to see you impaled upon your own blade when I come back!"
"Oh, *O-Oh!* I-I'm sorry! Y-Your highness, I was just, I-I was just frightened-"
*"Tsk.* Go on now! Shoo!" Despite the drama, Nicolette smiled faintly, kicking some of the warm water that licked at her feet towards her knight. "Begone with thee!"
"O-Of course!" They scrambled to pick up her discarded clothing, folding it in their arms. "Off I go!"
"I shall call for you when I'm done!"
——————————
The sounds of shallow pants and muffled whines fill the dimly lit tent, the chill from the frigid air mitigated by the warmth of skin pressed against skin.
"F-Fuck, *princess,"* Sam huffs, lips crashing against hers, tasting the aroma of spiced wine and sugar on her tongue. They drank from that kiss greedily, hungrily, feeling a new surge of heat from within when they heard Nikki mewl into their mouth.
Unclad hands grasped at one of her soft breasts, the flesh flooding from the gaps in their fingers, feeling for the first time the true extent of her smooth, almost silken skin. The sensation was so indescribable, it was as if they were touching divinity, the warmth of Nikki's skin almost burning them.
*"Ahn!"* Nikki gasped when Sam fondled her breast, breaking their kiss to arch her back into their touch. "S-Samuel! Th-That's, you!-"
"What's the matter, princess?" Sam purred, mouthing alongside the edge of her jaw, suckling her pulse with hungry lips. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Of course not!" She panted, her little hands grasping Samuel's hair into her balled fists. "I-I'm just, I'm-"
"You're?"
"...Y-You know!"
"Pfft, I really *don't-"*
Sam nipped her again, earning themself a half-hearted smack against their side. But it was worth it to hear the princess moan their name once more.
"I know naught the way of man and maid," She finally blurted, sitting up partially, close enough that her lips brushed Sam's as she spoke. "I've never been a lover, nor been loved, all my life! Wh-What if, wh-what if I'm doing this wrong?!"
Sam tried to bite back a laugh, but failed miserably, their head falling into the crook of Nikki's neck, pressing kisses against her skin between fits of giggles.
"Don't laugh! I'm b-being serious!"
"I-I know, princess! I know, I know," They reassured, the kisses they peppered over her skin travelling lower, and lower. "But you're just so silly-"
"E-Excuse you?!"
"-Because you've always been loved." Sam pauses their kisses to press Nikki back down into the makeshift bed, her long hair separating into sectioned spirals where they fell, creating the appearance of swirling, silken galaxies around her flushed face.
Gods above. Sam had never seen anyone or anything as beautiful and divine as she. She was like an angel, hindered only by her flesh and form.
"I-I have?" Nikki muttered, the dim light making the tears in her dark eyes shimmer.
"I've always loved you, princess." Sam murmured, leaning down to begin where they had left off, their lips ghosting over Nikki's pert nipple, feeling her shudder underneath her.
"Not to mention…" They continued, humor edging their voice. "...You need naught worry about knowing the ways of man or maid, for I am *neither."*
They sucked Nikki's nipple into their mouth, twirling their tongue around it and giving it a playful nip before releasing her, chuckling when they heard her cry out.
"I'm your knight."
Sam soothed over her nipple with their thumb, kissing the flat expanse of skin between her breasts.
"Your shield."
They kissed her navel.
"Your sword."
They kissed her pubic bone.
"You are mine,"
They kissed her mound, just above her glistening pearl, able to feel her heart throb through her flesh.
"Just as I am yours."
"S-Sam, please-"
But before Nikki could finish, Sam's tongue laved over the warm, supple folds, tasting just how needy she had become.
*"Oh!* Fuck, S-Sam!"
Nikki's fingers curled into Sam's hair desperately, panting hard, reflexively closing her legs around Sam's head. But Sam was faster, stronger, pinning her legs under strong, trained hands, making sure she couldn't get away. Their skilled tongue licked long, languid strokes, lips latching around her little button, sucking and stroking before letting go and repeating the process.
"Sam, *hah,* S-Sam-"
They hummed into her mound, smiling inwardly when Nikki reflexively ground herself against their face, gasping and moaning again. Sam delved their tongue through her folds once more, this time pushing as deep into her as they could manage, grinding their nose into her nub, feeling her walls tense around her tongue and hearing her simper above them.
A gush of newfound wetness flooded Sam's mouth, catching it with their tongue and stroking along her textured walls. Nikki was so close already, they could sense it. Relentlessly, Sam dove their tongue into her and drank deeply, pinching her little pearl between their thumb and nose, circling it between passes of their nose.
"Oh, o-oh fuck, *fuck!* Sam! P-Please!"
Fucking hell, she could get so wet. It was like drinking from a chalice, the holy grail itself, from which the *Kalistae* dynasty was named after. Appropriately so, since the chalice betwixt her legs flowed ceaselessly, and Sam, enlightened, upon partaking of the holy drink.
*"Sam!"*
So close, Nikki was *so* close. Sam gulped down another gush of wetness, moaning as they tasted her. Her walls fluttered and clamped down tightly on their tongue, Nikki's hands still tangled in their hair.
"Dammit, Sam! Can't you hear me?! Wake up!"
Something crashed against their head, startling them out of the intimate scene they were in.
*"I'm not finished!"*
Nicolette scoffed, snatching the pillow she had tossed at the knight's head.
"Huh?? What the hell are you yammering about? You've slept in! C'mon Sir Sam, wake up!"
Sir Samuel shook their head, their helm clanking against the rest of their armor, the haze of their intense dream finally lifting.
They had slept standing upright, having succumbed to exhaustion themselves while they stood post for the night. Even being seduced into the sweetest of dreams. They could still even faintly taste the aroma of her salty, sweet musk on their tongue.
"Hm? O-Oh, I um… I-I suppose I was dreaming, your highness."
She narrowed those shrewd, cat-like eyes of hers at them, before shrugging. She was already dressed, The Knight's cape draped around her shoulders as a makeshift layer, making up for the ones she had lost. The campfire was no more than a smoldering mess of coals, Nicolette dumping a pile of snow over top it, the coals hissing in protest.
"Seemed pleasant enough, seeing as you were giggling and muttering under your breath the whole morning."
Samuel flushed, hoping that they didn't say anything too incriminating during their sleep. But the princess didn't seem too phased; just grumpy from waking up by herself this morning.
"How late is it, princess?" Samuel inquired, reaching under their helm and rubbing the sleep from their eyes
"Not too late, Sir Samuel." She replied, finishing a handful of feed from out of Daybreak's feed bag, and holding it out for the stallion to take a nibble. "I awoke at dawn this morn, and not much time has passed since then. Looking at the sun's position, it should be no later than the ninth hour."
Shit. Not late, but definitely not early. It was already the sixth day, and they were behind schedule. If they were going to make it there upon the expected sennight, they were going to have to travel all day and all night tonight. That was going to be quite difficult for Nicolette; those bruises must already be terribly painful, not to mention the horrible condition her feet were in thanks to those awful boots she wore.
Samuel forced themselves to rouse despite their exhaustion, helping the princess pack up the camp. In truth, the princess was unable to pack up the camp by herself efficiently, both due to her inexperience and her physical incompetence. But Samuel was too kind to wound her ego by telling her she was too slow. The poor woman was already suffering enough, so letting her feel like she could be of *some* help was the least they could do for her.
Once they were done, all that was left was to help Nicolette onto their steed. But they hesitated, thinking again of the ghastly bruises she had acquired. Being forced to endure hours of rough riding must've been torture…
"What is it, Sir Samuel?" The princess asked, watching them hesitate. But then they backtracked. Instead of helping the princess up first, Samuel let themself up onto Daybreak's back.
"Here, my princess. Take my hand," Samuel reached down, offering their hand for her to take. "I'm going to carry you a different way today."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Indeed. Here, careful now-"
The knight grasped her delicate hand, holding her steady while she hooked her boot into the stirrup, helping her up the rest of the way. Nicolette typically had the strength enough to help herself, so to see her struggle so greatly with such a simple task…
They must hurry. The sooner they could be done with this mission and get the princess back home, the better. They guided Nicolette's body to sit side saddle in front of them, their arms holding her on either side, allowing her to sit down without the need to splay her legs or hold onto the saddle with her knees.
"I-I won't fall like this, will I?" the princess stuttered, her face flushing against the proximity of being pressed against Samuel's chest.
"What did I promise you, eh?" Samuel replied, using their free hand to hold the princess against themself. "I would never let you fall, my little star. Now hold on-"
The knight clicked twice, urging Daybreak into a quick yet steady pace, the winter winds already whipping past them.
"We can't be late to your wedding, now, can we?"
——————————
The seventh day had arrived.
The warmth of the sun was all but nonexistent when it made its ascent over the horizon, its bleak rays illuminating the cold, rocky landscape of the mountainous south.
Their journey was ending almost exactly as it had began: silent, save for the occasional word, to check if Nicolette was still mentally present. The air was almost oppressive as they packed their camp, weighed down by the knowledge that they both were soon going to meet Nicolette's loathsome suitor: The King in Black.
Sir Samuel couldn't bear the silence any longer, drawing a heavy sigh as they tightened the last strap over Daybreak's saddle, making sure the tents were secured in their rolls.
"The King in Black…" They began, unsure of how to ask the question that's been on their mind. "How much, er… How much do you know about him?"
The princess didn't reply for a while, Samuel assuming that perhaps she didn't hear them. But she finally replied, her voice soft.
"You know as well as I, Sir Samuel. You said it yourself. He's… H-He's a monster."
"I know," They replied, watching her posture carefully. "But I need to know *more* than that… Just in case."
She finally met their eye, her gaze as scrupulous as ever. Nothing ever seemed to escape those eyes of hers.
*"Just in case?"* She repeated, her thick brows sinking over her eyes, forming an intense scowl. "Whatever for?"
"You never know." Samuel offered, hardly sure themself. "If he's as frightening as the texts and stories say, then, wouldn't you say it's a good thing to brace ourselves?"
Nicolette's wary gaze studied them, and they almost considered for a moment if they had made her angry. But she finally shook her head to herself, letting out a sigh.
"I… I-I suppose you're right, Sir Samuel…"
There was another long pause from her end, and the knight thought that was the end of it. But she surprised them by continuing.
"I doubt you've ever, th-that you've ever seen him on the battlefield," She started, her voice trembling. "B-But his status as a terrifying entity still stands… He's *hardly* a man. A terrifying beast, an ill-omen that fell from the sky…"
Sir Samuel swallowed hard, remembering the tales they've been regailed from their fellow knights, returning from battles past with the southern kingdom for territory acquisition.
*"A dragon…"*
The princess nodded solemnly, her hands shaking as she fumbled clumsily with the clasps over a folded fur blanket, trying and failing several times to get the clasp to slide through the hooks.
*"Yes…* A dragon…"
The knight came by Nicolette's side, putting their arms over her own to help guide her shaking fingers, finally helping her thread the clasp through the hooks one by one. They could tell, just from standing beside her like this, that she was trembling something fierce. Her eyes seemed distant, like she was somewhere else.
"It was over a hundred or so years ago, but back then, a different king ruled the south. Our kingdom and theirs weren't friends, per se, but we weren't enemies either. Nay, we were simply neighbors, and had very little to do with each other…"
The knight helped her with another pack, this time helping her cold fingers grip the limp strings to help tie it down, so it wouldn't unravel during travel.
"...But then, a strange, astrological event occurred."
"The Day of The Midnight Sun." Samuel interjected, trying to warm her hands between tasks, sensing that her fingers must ache already. The princess didn't push them away nor reject their care, letting them hold each hand in theirs briefly, relishing the fleeting warmth.
"That's right. The Day of The Midnight Sun…"
…
It was the shortest day, and the longest night.
The stars and moon disappeared from the sky, leaving nothing but a dark, empty void up in the night sky above them. Fear fell upon all nations who witnessed the darkness of the sky, unable to see the celestial map which guided them all.
Then came a terrible thunder, that broke the earth, and shook the heavens. Then a blazing star of black fire, like a piece of the abysmal sky itself, fell long and far. Its cry shattered buildings, deafening all who heard it, and blinded all who bore witness to it. Its fire desecrated much of the once lush southern kingdom, leaving nothing more now than a cold, rocky expanse.
Finally, did something terrible then emerge. A horrid creature, made of flesh and void, pulled itself from the rubble. Its hunger was endless and indiscriminate, devouring anything and everything that walked, crawled, and ran.
Nothing that the kingdoms did could destroy it, the creature doing nothing but gain power at a frightening rate.
The most frightening thing that this creature could do, however, was become a man.
And become a man it did.
One day, without warning, the king of the southern kingdom was slain and devoured by the creature from the sky, and in his place did it become his imposter. It walked in his flesh, and spoke with his voice, yet never slept, never aged, and never died…
Now, roughly a hundred years later, that man still ruled. But never was he a man at all. He was, and always has been, a man-eating beast: **A Dragon.**
And now, he sought a bride…
…
"But why? Why *now?"* Sir Samuel inquired, helping themself up onto Daybreak's back first. "He's a horrid beast, who destroys and devours anything and everything!"
They loop Daybreak's reigns over their plated gauntlets, making sure their grip was fast and firm before finally holding out their hand for the princess to take.
"What good does a bride bring him now?"
The princess did not make a move to take their outstretched hand, instead just looking at it with distant, bleary eyes.
"...Y-Your highness?"
Her silence was worse an answer than the admittance to her suffering. Her almost-blue lips quivered, her long lashes becoming moist as shining tears filled her eyes to the brim. She refused to make eye contact with the knight, turning her head away, so that they could not see the expression she was making.
"...I-I don't, I don't know…"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, cracking halfway through.
"I, I-I just, I'm so… s-so…"
Her voice broke, hiccupping in the middle of her sentence.
Without hesitation, Sir Samuel leapt off their steed, rushing to take her hand in an attempt to comfort her.
"Forgive me, your highness! I-I spoke so crudely in my hatred for the king. I did not consider your place-"
"I'm so fucking *scared* right now, Sam." Nicolette sobbed, dropping the royal etiquette of her speech. "I want nothing more than for you to take me away from this, th-this fucking, gods-forsaken place-"
"Then ask me, Nikki!" The Knight demanded, holding her hand up to their breastplate. "Ask me, right now, for me to take you away from here! And I'll do it!"
"I can't!" She cried. "I can't do that, and you know it!"
"Why?! Why can't you do something for yourself for once?!" Samuel's voice rose, their frustration, their desperation bubbling beneath their chest.
"Because saving *my* life, means letting hundreds- no, *thousands* of people fucking die!" Nicolette shot back, her voice cracking awkwardly as her tone rose. "Everything I've ever done for the kingdom I love, the place I call home? Will be for fucking nothing! Everything I've done so far has been fucking *useless!"*
They opened their mouth to speak, but Nicolette did not allow them get a word in edge wise, her words becoming faster and more frantic as she went on.
"It was bad enough to be born in this fragile, *frail* body! But at least I had half a mind and the social standing to help ease all the needless suffering the empress has caused! But the damage she's caused to the system of Astoria is already too great; nothing I do is never, *ever* good enough!"
She had let go of Samuel's hands at this point, stepping back and gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke.
"But now, for once, my mother offers me an opportunity- *the* opportunity, to possibly fix *everything-"* She runs a hand through her long tresses, the strands of long brown hair getting caught between her fingers. "The King needs a bride, p-perhaps a couple heirs- G-Great! That's what I promised since I was young; t-to do whatever it takes to stop this mess, even if that meant to marry some stranger, to give him whatever he wants. So why, wh-why-"
Nicolette hiccups again, grabbing at her head, tangling her hair even further. She pants as if she's out of breath, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Wh-Why a *monster?!* Why *him?!"*
The princess fell to her knees, freeing one of her hands from her hair to clutch at her heart, breathing harder, faster, tears streaming freely down her face.
"J-Just what exactly have I done to incur such, such p-punishment?! What did I do to deserve this?!"
Samuel followed suit, lowering themselves to her level, trying to steady her with their hands. Once they placed a hand over the princess' heart, they could feel just how hard it was beating, even through their armor. Gods, this wasn't good. The Princess was spiralling, having lost her senses to hysteria.
Samuel floundered, trying their best to quiet her hysteric ramblings, keeping her hands from pulling her hair and potentially hurting herself.
But the efforts they made were fruitless. No amount of coaxing and reassurance could quell her.
The knight finally threw in the towel, wrapping their arms tight around Nicolette, holding her against themselves tightly. A hand on the back of her head guided her to rest upon their shoulder, their other hand holding the small of her back, pressing her flush to themself. Her arms reflexively wrapped around Samuel's body, holding on for dear life, sobbing into their shoulder.
"I've got you." Samuel cooed, their raspy voice softened by their quiet tone. "Just breathe slow, Nikki. Slowly… In, then out…"
Finally, Nicolette was able to take a full breathe, and she pulled in as much of the frigid air she could, until she could hold it no longer. Then she let go, her breath coming out almost as a gasp, her lungs still shuddering with the remnants of her terror-filled state.
"That's it, good girl," They praised, petting her head. "Again, just breathe. I've got you until then. I won't let go until I know you're alright…"
The princess inhaled again, pressing her forehead against the cold steel chainmail that covered Samuel's chest and neck. Even despite the freezing air, Nicolette could feel the dampness of sweat collecting on her brow and on the back of her neck, shuddering now as a new type of chill began to settle in her bones.
"Better?" The knight rasped, relaxing away from their tight embrace to look at Nicolette's face. She looked…
…Defeated.
She sniffled in response, her eyes and nose red from both her crying and the winter air.
"I 'spose…" She muttered, wiping her eyes. "Gods above, I-I feel like all I ever do is cry these days…"
And who could blame her? She was being forced to marry a murderous beast. The chances of her betrothed devouring her was a grim reality that she was being forced to face. If Samuel was forced to marry a ravenous creature, they'd also be reasonably upset.
"Come, your highness," the knight urged, helping the princess stand after an uncomfortable amount of time on their knees. "It'll only get colder the longer we stay in one place. You'll start to warm up once we're on our way…"
She nodded, the despair of the morning having all but sucked the energy out of her. She barely had the strength to muster up a verbal response, choosing to spend it on forcing herself to stand and follow the knight's footsteps.
Watching the once bright and lively princess— someone who could make conversation out of nothing— trudge along with such despondence… it was nothing short of heartbreaking. Princess Nicolette was a kind soul. Yes, she had her vices; she could be terribly picky and sometimes vain, and her naivete made her prone to heartbreak. But that didn't mean she deserved a fate like this.
She was just a sheltered— if not somewhat spoiled— princess. And it was hard not to spoil someone like her, whose delicate health required assistance and monitoring, in case she strained herself too hard. Even walking up a long stairway made the princess struggle to catch her breath and clutch her chest, so they could only imagine just how intense this past sennight has been so far.
Samuel was proud of her incredible display of fortitude and strength throughout this whole journey, but resented that she had to be pushed to her limits in such dangerous conditions. So far, they have been incredibly lucky. There had been many moments where Nicolette seemed quite faint, but she held fast, promising that she was okay.
But will she be able to keep holding on upon meeting with the King? Will the king even consider her fragility? Or will he not even hesitate to devour her, making her valiant efforts all for naught?
Samuel helped themself up onto Daybreak's back, then assisted the princess, guiding her back to help her sit side-saddle in front of them. They clicked twice and flicked the reins, urging the stallion to take a brisk pace.
No, no… her efforts won't be in vain. They couldn't allow that. She'd come so far and had done so well. They had promised her that they would never let her fall, had sworn their fealty to her. Had even changed their name and identity, so they could be allowed to serve under her imperial majesty as her daughter's charge; her oath bound protector, her blade, her shield.
Sir Samuel was the knight that followed the empress' royal decree to protect the princess. They were the knight that had sworn their unshakable fealty to the princess, and therefore, the kingdom that they loved, and would do anything to protect.
Even if it meant slaying a dragon to do so.
——————————
It seemed as if the morning had been gone in the blink of an eye.
Princess Nicolette and Sir Samuel had finally reached the peak of the final hill, standing at the very apex, looking down at the troops below. It wasn't surprising to find that there were troops waiting for them; their king was to be accompanying them in order to greet his betrothed and take her to her new home.
At least… he was supposed to be.
Sir Samuel still had The Princess' head held against their chest, protecting her ears from the harsh, whipping winds atop the crest of the hill. Standing at the top, they could see every soldier that had come along, standing in their sleek, ebony armor. Their cavalry riding atop giant mounts, their shoulders decorated by furs— no doubt to keep them warm in the south's exceptionally chilly environment. But for all of Samuel's searching, they could not find the king. There was no decorative palanquin, no royal carriage to speak of. Nothing. Any servants or scribes that would portray the presence of royalty were completely absent. What's worse, their formation wasn't defensive, but rather offensive. Their cavalry was armed with long bows, positioned at the back of the formation, with their sword-wielding soldiers positioned in the front lines, as if ready and waiting for conflict.
No, this couldn't be right, something wasn't adding up… But they knew they just couldn't stand up there forever. Nicolette was shivering, and The Knight knew that if they could see the soldiers down there, then they could see them up here. The longer they apprehended their approach, the more hostile the soldiers may become. (Considering if they weren't already.)
Despite their gut screaming at them that something was wrong, Samuel clicked their tongue, urging Daybreak onward to make the decent. Every hoof click against the hard, wind-worn stone felt like the tick of a clock, marking every second they got closer. Sir Samuel could feel the sweat gathering on their brow despite the chill, their hands trembling in expectation. All they had brought was a sword. Which would be fine, so long as they got the opportunity to get up close and personal with The King. But he wasn't here; instead, there was a battalion waiting for them. If Samuel had to be forced to fight now, before The King could even be present, then their death— as well as their beloved Princess'— would not just be assured, but in vain.
The Empress' sacrificial offering would be accepted.
The knight clenched their jaw, their teeth aching. No, they could not let that happen, they could not let The Empress win. Sir Samuel had sworn to protect Nicolette, had sworn to themselves that they would do what it takes to keep her alive, to bring her home. It didn't matter if it meant slaying a dragon or five-hundred soldiers to do so. They would do the impossible, by all means necessary, if it meant she would be safe.
When they had finally reached the bottom of the hill, a man from the front lines broke formation. His regalia was different from the rest of the soldiers. The ebony steel seemed to be much more form fitted to his body than the rest, with flexible scaled platings layered over his abdomen. Complex joint systems protected his elbows, shoulders, knees and ankles, allowing him to move much more fluidly than what classic armor would allow. What was most odd about him, however, was his shock of unnaturally bright, blue hair.
"Where is your princess?" He demanded, his voice sounding surprisingly young despite his scarred face. "And where is your company? You're late. The day is almost over."
Samuel was never much for etiquette and policing tones, but his brusque questioning followed by his admonishing immediately made their temper rise.
"We are the company." Samuel all but hissed, feeling their heart beat faster. "And in my arms is her highness."
The soldier's grimace dropped for a second to reveal a surprised look, his gaze wandering down to the shivering mess that was hiding her face in The Knight's chest. But his surprise was immediately replaced with a suspicious scowl, his scarred brow furrowing over his green eyes.
"If you think I'm dumb enough to fall for this, then you and the Kingdom of Astoria will be sorely mistaken."
"How dare you?!" The Knight snarled, their grip on the reigns almost quaking in their rage. "First you take a terrible tone when addressing royal guests, scold us for their punctuality, and then accuse us of being impersonators?! I ought to-"
"Sam,"
The Princess' quiet voice cut through the clamor, Sir Samuel immediately quieting themselves and looking down at her expectantly.
"Yes, your highness?"
She had finally lifted her head, her tired eyes still holding an impressive amount of regal authority.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be…"
Her command sounded more like a gentle plea, her dainty hand soothing over their armored chest.
Oh, if only they were alone right now. The desire to press their lips against hers, to taste her misery on their tongue and devour it until it was entirely gone, was overwhelming. But for now, they would bite their tongue, and pretend that it was hers.
"If you are truly her highness," The soldiers sneered out the last two words, as if he were purposely trying to provoke their ire. "Then dismount, and prove it. Though I doubt you can, seeing as you have no one else but yourselves."
"Speak for yourself," Sir Samuel spat out, almost instantly forgetting The Princess' request. "You also have no carriages carrying royalty. If anything, it should be you convincing us! Where is your king?! If he's truly the spectacle that the stories make him out to be, then he should stop being a coward, and step forward to greet his bride!"
"Coward?!" He boomed, puffing his chest out. "He's no coward! But I think you'll come to find that out soon enough."
"Soon enough?! Bah! Every moment's delay is proof of his cowardice!" Samuel barked, smiling smugly behind their helm.
The blue-haired soldier smiled in response to the challenge, his eyes flashing with excitement.
"Then let us delay no longer."
The soldier unsheathed one of his dual swords from its hilt and pointed it at them, his smile decorated with the scar that split his lower lip. The excuse that Samuel had been waiting for finally presented itself, relinquishing their protective hold on Nicolette to leap into action. Daybreak whinnied at the suddenness of Samuel's forceful dismount, rearing back in protest, forcing Nicolette to cling to the reigns and try to take control of the spooked stead.
The Knight was quick to cross blades with the soldier, able to force his long blade behind him with a force equal to something of a bludgeon. That was where Samuel excelled; their brute strength on the battlefield was utterly unmatched, their righteous rage affording them the strength that rivaled even Valkyries.
It was why they were ever awarded the duty of being The Princess' royal charge and sworn protector.
"Bitch!" The blue-haired soldier cursed, the attack knocking him back so thoroughly, it forced him to rebalance his stance.
"What did you just call me?!" Sir Samuel roared, rearing their long sword high in their backswing, fully intending to gracelessly slash him to ribbons.
"I said," He panted, all but ripping his second blade out of its sheath. "Bitc-!"
A terrible thunder quaked from the sky, shaking the ground beneath them. Everyone broke out in shocked cries, some even falling to their knees as the earth beneath them jumped and rolled. Daybreak shrieked and bucked wildly, not unlike the rest of the horses in the enemy's cavalry. But as he was already spooked, there was no reigning and coaxing that Princess Nicolette could offer that would ease the horse's fear, and she did not have the strength to forcefully settle him.
Nicolette was bucked off, her body bouncing off the rumbling ground as Daybreak attempted to flee, before he too lost his balance and fell to his side in a clamor, all their packed supplies flying with him. Despite the horrible noise and shaking earth, Samuel was able to hold their ground, staking their sword into the ground to hold themselves aloft in the rippling sea of cracked rock and stone.
As soon as the quake began however, it had ended. The event itself couldn't have lasted no longer than ten seconds, but it was enough to cause such tumultuous chaos, that fear had settled deep into Samuel's heart. A fear so deep, so primitive, that it made them question for just the slightest moment, if this whole journey was worth it.
But that doubt was soon squashed as soon as Samuel laid eyes upon Princess Nicolette's limp form laying upon the ground, a fear even greater than for the unseen forces at work seizing hold of their mind.
"Nikki!" Sam shrieked, stumbling through their vertigo to rush to her aide. They snatched her by her dress fabrics, pulling her body to face the sky, the sight making them gasp aloud.
Nicolette's face was covered in blood, a steady stream of crimson gushing out of a wound on her right temple, matting her long brown hair, streaming down her neck and into the crest of her breasts.
"N-No, no, nononono—"
Samuel held her limp body to themselves tightly, pressing their ear to her chest and straining to hear the tell-tale thump-thump of her heartbeat, for the proof that the impact to her head hadn't killed her. It was difficult to hear through their armor, over the chaos of soldiers and horses and clattering footsteps and shouting of men, but it was there. Faint, fast, and fluttering, but it was there. Tears of relief welled up in their eyes, lip trembling, unsure whether or not they should laugh or sob.
Another roar of thunder in the sky sounded above them, a blast of horrible wind cutting through the air and kicking up all kinds of dirt and dust. Even though the ground beneath them didn't break apart, the enemy battalion braced themselves like they were about to face some sort of impact. And it didn't take long for Samuel to see what they were bracing against.
The sight of being swallowed up by a giant shadow forced Samuel to lift their head to the skies, clutching Nicolette's closer to themselves at the terrible sight they beheld. It turned out that the sounds of thunder, weren't thunder at all.
Giant, black wings blotted out the sun from the sky, casting the rocky expanse they stood in into darkness. Every flap of its leathery wings forced the winds to blow them backwards. A dragon, ginormous in size and practically incomprehensible in form. This creature looked nothing like the lizard-like beasts depicted in books. It had scales, yes, but also fur, and what looked like skin, stretched over gaunt bones that extended into hideous claws. What wasn't covered in strangely ambiguous scales and chitin platings, was left entirely exposed; chunks of muscle and flesh rippling independent of its movement, appearing as if there were things crawling in it.
But its giant form crunched and shifted, its wings folding over itself, stirring the cloud cover up and veiling itself in the mist, shrinking into the fog and disappearing entirely.
The Knight clung to Princess Nicolette, cradling her bleeding head while they desperately searched the sky. That thing was no fucking dragon. No, it was some disgusting, misshapen creature. A malformed star that fell from the sky. If that thing decided stay in such a state, then there was no chance for them to slay it. It was hopeless.
Before despair could fully sink its claws into Sir Samuel's heart, a cry called out from the soldiers across the field:
"Hark! His majesty descends! Brace thyselves!"
But there was no time to do so, his landing to the ground so forceful that the shockwave blew them back just as much as the beating of his wings. Samuel ducked against the onslaught, shielding Nicolette's body with their own. Once the instance passed, Samuel dared themselves to look up, feeling their stomach drop at the sight of the figure just several yards from them.
A man. Or something that looked like one, that is, stood several yards away. But even from this distance, The Knight could see that he was an impossible height, towering over all his men. The build of his form betrayed just how inhumanly strong he must be, his chest as large as a barrel, his exposed arms rippling with muscles (and something else that made Samuel's stomach churn). His skin was a rich, olive brown, with thick black curls that fell past his massive shoulders.
But the most terrifying thing was his eyes; A gaze that held such evil, such malice, that Samuel could feel all the courage they had dry up in their throat. Blood red and glowing against the growing twilight.
And that abysmal gaze met their own.
——————————
It felt as if the entire universe was conspiring their downfall. The news of the betrothal, the harsh journey, the raider's attack, the relentless cold, the mass of troops that greeted them, and now—
Nicolette stirred in Sir Samuel's arms, groaning miserably, her thick brow scrunching over her eyes. She could feel her heart beating painfully fast in her own chest, unable to hear what has happening over the roar of blood rushing against her eardrums. An even breath was difficult to draw, feeling as if her chest may burst if she inhaled too deeply. And oh, oh, the terrible pain in her head, how it made her vision spin and fade.
Everything ached oh so terribly. So much so that it rivaled the pain of the horrible illness she had contracted when she was young, the very same illness that had affected her so deeply, that it still disabled her to this day. It was all she could do to just open her eyes, feeling the pressure of cold, metal arms holding her in a tight embrace.
Through bleary eyes, Nicolette could just barely see into the slot of Sir Samuel's helm, seeing the tiny sliver of dim twilight reflect off of their terrified, beautiful green eyes.
…Huh.
How odd. In all her years of knowing her knight, her sworn protector, she had never seen them without their helmet off. How odd it was, that of all times, this was the very first time she could see their true eye color.
Nicolette could feel her knight's arms shaking through their armor in their embrace. Could faintly hear the panting of their breathe over the rush of her own heart beating deafeningly in her ears. And the terror in their eyes…
Faint recollections of moments before started to return to her concussed, foggy memory. Sir Samuel was just about to fight with the irritating soldier, and then there was that dreadful crash of thunder that caused the earth to rip and roll. Daybreak had been startled beyond control, making him buck and scream like she had never heard a horse do before. Yes, yes that's right, he bucked her off despite her efforts, then came a terrible pain to her head—
She feebly reached up to touch the source of her splitting headache, flinching went she felt the sting of her fingers meeting raw, exposed flesh. Her fingers trembled at the sight of just how much blood coated her hands: thick, sticky, and red. That would explain why her world had suddenly turned black so quickly.
"S-Stay back! Stay away from her!"
Samuel's voice brought the princess back from her internal musings, forcing her to squint towards the whomever they were shouting at, her breath catching in her throat when she realized who was standing just a few short yards away.
That had to had been him. It must be him. He looked so starkly different from the rest of his men, even the blind would have to notice. His posture was menacing, his face shadowed by his curly, black locs, with the exception of his burning, glowing red eyes.
"…And if I don't?"
If she wasn't in such a predicament as she was now, Princess Nicolette would've gasped in shock. She was expecting a voice that was on par with the snarl of a rabid animal; something deeo and foreboding. But his voice… His voice was surprisingly light, smooth even. Nothing like the beastly growl that she was expecting from a monster like him.
She could feel her knight scramble beneath her, wincing when she felt those armored arms release her in favor of snatching their blade off the ground, coming to a stand before her. But even with the distance between them, it was almost comical seeing the sheer difference in size between her knight and the king.
"I swear, I'll destroy you! Ya hear me?! Murder you!"
The king raised a thick, dark brow, seeming utterly unimpressed by Sir Samuel's threats. He tilted his head back over his shoulder, speaking to the battalion that had yet to reform their ranks behind him.
"You hear that, men?" The King said, his voice cool and even, his small smile revealing a mouth full of sharp fangs. "This knight says they'll murder me." He tsked and shook his head, the humor in his voice ironically cold.
"Should we show them what might happen if they try?"
Nicolette's eyes shot wide, awareness forcing her to sit up through the pain.
"Sam! Don't! Stand down, immediately!"
Sir Samuel's hands were still shaking, it being apparent from the quivering in their posture and the clatter of their sword. But they refused to back down, turning more so that the princess couldn't see past them, leaving only their back exposed to her.
"Samuel! Sam, please! I'm ordering— I'm begging you! Don't do this!"
"I'd listen to the princess, if I were you, 'Sam'," He said, bringing himself closer with a step. With his added height and long stride, it would only take him just a few paces to reach them.
"Shut up!" Samuel roared, stiffening, trying to steady their grip. "Nikki," They continued, refusing to take their eyes off the monster in front of them. "I promised I would never let you fall. I promised I would do everything it takes to protect you. To keep you safe."
"B-But, but the decree, the people—"
"To hell with the decree! And the people!" Samuel spat, interrupting the princess. "All of them! They don't give a goddamn if you live or die, they never did! But I do! I care, goddammit, I care about you!"
The only time that they finally turned to look back at Nicolette, was to break her heart.
"And I'm willing to die just to prove it."
Nicolette swallowed dryly around the lump in her throat, cursing herself for not having the ability to convince them against this suicide mission. Only one person needed to be sacrificed. Why was Samuel so intent on doing more than what was necessary? So intent to throw away something so precious such as their very life?
"Touching." The King said banally after a moments silence. "But unnecessary, really. There's no point in such a tearful goodbye if you just let her go quietly. Now, come along, princess—"
The King in Black had stepped forward to approach the princess, extending a hand that was decorated with long, wicked claws at the end of each finger. But his approach was stopped short by the ferocious swing of Samuel's sword, missing him by mere centimeters.
Of which, The King seemed totally, and utterly, unphased.
"I warned you to get the hell away from her!" Sir Samuel bellowed, their voice uncharacteristically high.
The King rolled his eyes, snatching the blade of their sword in his clawed fist when they swung again, the blade not even breaking skin.
"Honestly," He began, putting his boot to The Knight's chest and kicking them to the ground, Nicolette's begging falling on deaf ears. "This little show you're putting on for this woman— my soon-to-be wife, is quite pathetic."
He flung the long-sword away from them both, the steel clanging against the rocky ground.
Sir Samuel hissed in frustration, hopping back onto their feet. In their rush to regain their stance, they resorted to throwing their armored fist straight for The King's face, trying to surprise him. But they underestimated the speed for which someone of his sheer size can move, their fist hitting nothing but air when he casually side-stepped their attack. He stuck his boot out to hook it on their ankle, gracefully sweeping it out from under them, knocking them off their feet yet again.
It was like watching a puppet master manipulate a marionette, and Sir Samuel was forced to dance helplessly on the strings.
"If you turn away now, I might just be inclined to devour you quickly."
Samuel scrambled to stand back up, but The King was faster, snatching them by their throat and holding them aloft in the air as if they were nothing more than a doll, their legs windmilling for purchase.
"To save you the embarrassment, of course."
"Stop it! No! Sto— Nhg!" Nicolette shrieked, her heart physically aching from the stress she was under. She clutched her chest, her breath shuddering as she struggled to ignore the pain of her fluttering heart.
The King's head whipped around to watch The Princess struggle, his crimson eyes narrowing, throwing the choking knight ground roughly. The air rushed out of their lungs with the impact, their helm having been knocked off their head. The headpiece clattered and rolled away from them, revealing rush of short, red hair.
"S-Sam!" Nicolette gasped, rushing and stumbling over to her knight's side. Her shaking hands fluttered anxiously around them, her panic making her unsure how to help them.
Despite Samuel's choking and gasping, they attempted to cover their face with their hands, trying to turn away so that Nicolette wouldn't see who they were underneath the armor. So she wouldn't see the truth.
For the first time since they were assigned as the princess' charge, Nicolette was finally seeing their face. But it wasn't the chiseled, rugged face of a man like she had been mentally picturing in her head for all these years. No, it was the face of a woman, no younger nor no older than Nicolette was.
Her hair was a flaming red, and entirely shaved save for some fuzz on the right side of her head. Her skin was a warm, medium brown and decorated with faded battle scars, and sparkling green eyes stared back at her through the gaps in her fingers, wide with fear.
"S-Sir Samuel?!" Nicolette stammered, her mouth left open in shock as she tried to figure out what to say. "What, wh-who are—"
"Y-You weren't supposed to find out like this!" The words rushed out of her, revealing a missing front tooth in what would have been a beautiful set of teeth. "You were never supposed to know, I-I was just supposed to-"
"Enough." The King's voice interrupted their moment, startling the both of them to look his way. He had taken advantage of the distraction to finally get close enough to the both of them that they could finally see him up close and personal, the illusion of his human form less convincing now than before.
"Typically, I enjoy playing with my food," He began, his smooth tenor voice lowering into a tone that sounded sinister and dangerous. "But this has gone on for long enough. My fiance is obviously unwell, and you? Are just prolonging her suffering. I should end your pathetic life for such a crime."
The king reached out once more towards the princess, his smooth, black claws glinting with the last iridescent rays of the setting sun.
Nicolette panicked, fear getting the best of her desire to preform her royal duties. Her eyes caught sight of the discarded longsword from the skirmish just minutes before, and hefted it up in her hands before clumsily swinging it in his direction.
"Bastard!" She roared, the volume for which she was famous for, finally returning in the moment she needed it most. "I'd rather die than see my charge get eaten by such a disgusting beast like yourself!"
"Nicolette! What are you doing—"
"Curse you! I curse you!" She spat, using every last bit of strength she had to swing a sword that she was too weak and too inexperienced to wield. "I curse you, fucking bastard! And the fetid, slimy cunt that belongs to whatever whore birthed you!"
The King's stoicism finally broke, earning the princess a downright terrifying grin, full of teeth that had no business belonging in a human's mouth. He laughed boisterously, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Ohoh! There's the foul-mouthed princess I was warned about!" He boomed, advancing, not at all concerned about the giant blade the princess was wildly swinging about. "They told me that marrying you wouldn't be easy, and to that, I'm thankful!"
"Fuck you!" Nicolette bellowed, thrusting her sword forward.
"Oh?" The King snatched the tip of the blade in his claws, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Fuck me?"
Nicolette's mouth suddenly went dry, her face blanching as she watched him point the tip of the sword to his abdomen, forcing her within his proximity.
"If you insist."
With one long, agonizing push, The King slowly impaled himself, his flesh greedily swallowing up the sword, squelching with every inch, soaking it in his blood. Princess Nicolette's mouth fell open, unable to restrain the choked whimpers that escaped her as she was forced to watch such depravity.
It wasn't until The King had fully forced himself to the hilt of the sword did Nicolette realize just how huge he truly was. Or how warm his blood that soaked her hands was. Or how close his face had come to hers. The massive, clawed hand that wasn't gripping the sword impaling his stomach, reached up to cradle her head, gingerly brushing her blood-soaked tresses away from her tear-stained face.
"Finally," He breathed, his breath ghosting over her trembling lips. "You. Are. Mine."
"Nikki! No, no!" Sir Samuel's panicked scream was shrill and piercing, kicking up snow as she pushed herself up off the ground and rushed for them.
But before she could reach them, soldiers from The King's battalion broke formation, rushing for Samuel and holding her back. She kicked, shoved, and cursed against them, but she was just one against many.
"Are you ready to go home now, dear?" He cooed, chuckling when he saw a tear escape from her eyes and slide down her face, mixing with her blood. He leaned down to lick it off her face, his long, slick tongue snaking across her cheek, savoring her blood and tears. The action made her squeal and flinch away, only to find that she was caged in an embrace between his body, and the tentacled extensions of his flesh.
"I know, I know, I am too. So lets not wait any longer—"
His tentacled flesh expelled the sword from his body with a gush of blood, the wound squirming like it had suddenly come alive before finally closing itself up, leaving nothing behind. Not even a scar. Samuel screamed and swore as she struggled to free herself from the captors that were dragging her away, The King paying her no mind as he hoisted the princess up into his arms in a bridal carry.
There was no warning for what came next however. There was the sound of tearing, and then a horrible crunch, before Princess Nicolette could see a set of leathery, bony wings unfold from his back.
"Brace yourself, love."
"No, no—!"
The Princess' plea became a frightened scream as she suddenly felt the ground disappear underfoot, feeling like her heart had dropped through her stomach. She clawed desperately at The King's chest for any sort of stability, for any sort of purchase, feeling the frigid winds buffet her bruised skin to and fro, feeling that she would fall at any second. But The King's claws held fast, holding her to himself as the ground was eventually swallowed up by the clouds.
Nicolette felt her lightheadedness suddenly return full force, the strength in her hands that gripped the fabric of The King's tunic weakening despite her best efforts to hold on. Everything, everything was simply too much for her mind, for her body, to handle, the stress of the ordeal straining her weak heart. Even through gritted teeth, her eyes slowly began to drift shut, too heavy to hold them open any longer.
But perhaps, Nicolette thought to herself, she would be better off if she wasn't awake for whatever came next…
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Light filtered through filmy, layered drapery, lighting up the bedchambers with the light of the late morning sun.
Nicolette groaned wearily, scrunching her eyes against such an offensive onslaught of warmth and light. Her body ached and mind ached, struggling to reach the surface of consciousness, feeling as if she was trying to wrench herself free from the heavy hold her sleep had held on her. It had been a while since she had gotten such good rest. How long had it been since her journey?
…How long has it been?
Memory of the evening surfaced back to her, remembering being taken away into the cold, dark sky. Remembering retaliating against the king and swearing at him. Remembering the revealed face of the terrified Samuel—
Oh, Samuel…
Nicole groaned again, lifting her arm so that she could wipe the sleep from her eyes. Her limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each, struggling to even make such a simple movement. She wriggled her toes, trying to get some sensation back into them, becoming aware now that she was sleeping in a bed. A luxurious one at that: the bedding hugged her weight softly, the sheets buttery soft and incredibly smooth to the touch.
The realization startled her. How did she get here, and who's bed was this? Then she licked her lips, wincing when she felt how dry and sticky her mouth had become in her sleep. Oh, what she would do to have a sip of water right about now.
Muffled voices swam in and out of her awareness, as well as the faint clinking of what she could only assume to be china, or perhaps glass of some sort.
Then she was hit by the scent of something sweet, something warm. Was there food nearby? But why? Had someone expected her to wake up around this time, and sent breakfast for her?
Mustering up whatever strength she could, she finally opened her eyes, feeling the sharp stab of pain as light finally hit her maladjusted eyes.
"Ah, finally," crooned a disturbingly familiar voice, making Nicolette's heart jump in her chest. "Good morning, beautiful."
There he was.
The King in Black.
Still impossibly tall and imposing, his broad, brown chest partially exposed underneath his loose tunic. His voice was as soft as the bed she laid in, his smile accented by sharp fangs. He was half sitting, half laying on the end of the bed by her feet, curly black hair haphazardly held up by a small string, loose pieces falling down and framing his bearded face.
In a setting like this, despite the uncanny traits he held, he was almost… handsome.
But looks aside, he was still a monster. Her initial fear blended with an intense, newfound irritation, How dare he act as if this was a quiet, comfortable morning between husband and wife? Like she was not actually his prisoner and unwilling bride?
"Pfft," Nicole scoffed, crossing her arms after she had struggled to sit up in the bed, her long hair falling over her shoulders and pooling across the blankets. "Spare me such trivial pleasantries. Don't you have any other poor souls to torture?"
"Mmm… Not until four o'clock." He replied.
His jovial answer made Nicolette groan.
"I'd rather be tortured with sticks and spears." She grumbled through grit teeth, her dark brown eyes glowering at him. But he seemed like he couldn't care any less, completely unaware of the misery that he was putting her and Samuel through.
"Oh, well, unfortunately that can't be arranged." He shrugged his gigantic shoulders, more of his curly hair falling loose. "Seeing as we're to be wed, after all."
"What is wrong with you?" Nicolette spat, doing nothing to hide her agitation. "Why are you acting like there's nothing wrong with any of this?!"
Now, as she was directly questioning him, he decided to go quiet, his shit-eating grin growing wider. There was no telling what about this he was enjoying: the breakfast in his bed, or watching a respectable royal lose her temper.
"What about this is funny to you, why are you smiling?! Are you mad? And where is my royal charge, Sir Samue—"
Princess Nicolette cut herself short, the words dying in her throat. As she was speaking, she had touched the clothing she was dressed in, and realized, suddenly, that it was not her own. Tossing aside the duvet, she looked down at herself and gasped, her face flushing all the way up to her ears.
In her unconscious state, she had been disrobed of her previous garments and clothed in a thin, sheer nightgown. One that left very little to the imagination, what with its downright scandalous, plunging neckline and breezy, diaphanous fabric. Nothing like the modest, layered garments that were the norm at home in Astoria. Nicolette swiftly covered herself back up, holding the fluffy duvet over her chest and glaring burning daggers towards the king.
"You perverted degenerate! You undressed me?!" She squeaked, her voice high with indignation.
"You finally noticed." He quipped, sounding like he was struggling with holding back his laughter.
"Eugh! You, you—!" The Princess shoved away from him, forcing as much distance between herself and him as she could she manage. "Pervert! Degenerate bastard! I should, I-I should—"
"Should what, hm?" The King mused, chuckling as he watched her try to scurry away while preserving her modesty. "Please, enlighten me, I'd love to see what the so called 'Star of Astoria' should do to someone like me."
Nikki fussed audibly as The King slowly approached her during her retreat, prowling across the bed after her. The bed sank deeply under his massive weight, making it feel almost as if the bed itself was drawing her to him.
"Get away from me!" She bellowed, her headache erupting with a new type of pain as she strained her voice. She even threw a pillow at him in her attempts to pull away.
"I'm still waiting to hear what you should do to me, my dear." The King all but cooed, his unnatural tongue gliding over sharp, inhuman teeth. "Unless you need me to—"
A sharp smack rang out, echoing against the bed-chamber's walls. The King had stopped his advance, dead in his tracks. Nicolette panted, the tips of her fingers stained with his blood. Not only had she slapped him across the face, but her long, manicured nails had raked across his face, drawing blood. The two stared at each other for several quiet moments, Nicolette still catching her breath, The King's smile having finally faded.
It was then that that the princess could feel a strange trickling across her fingers, her eyes traveling down towards her hands to inspect the source of the ticklish sensation.
The drops of the king's blood had coagulated over her skin, squirming and writhing, inching down her arm and back towards the source from which she had drawn them from.
Nicolette let out a disgusted shriek, shaking her hand free of the blood that had suddenly come alive and was crawling down her arm. The wriggling droplets clung fast, leaving trails of red in their wake on her pale olive skin.
"Wh-What the fuck, what the fuck?!"
It seemed that The King's patience had finally run out, as his smile had faded. The deep trio of scratches raking across his cheek and nose shifted, his skin melting over the small wounds almost instantaneously. His expression from the evening before had returned, his menacing glare transforming what should have been a handsome face into something…
…Frightening.
A massive, clawed fist had snatched the hand that had struck him, gripping her wrist. Not tightly, but strong enough that her struggle against him was utterly futile.
"Your snarky lil' attitude was cute before. Like a frightened kitten in a new home." His usually smooth, carefree tone had changed, turning something into that didn't sound completely human, layers of other voices, gurgles and clicks. "But striking me? Is absolutely. Unacceptable."
The King forced her hand up towards his lips, his long, serpentine tongue dragging across the delicate skin there. She shuddered at the sensation of it, feeling how surprisingly warm his tongue was, how it left a trail of slick saliva that cooled where it had just once been warm. He lapped up the wriggling droplets, absorbing his missing pieces back into himself.
"I've done my best so far to take care of you so far, love," He snarled, using his free hand to brush some of her brown hair behind her ear, the tips of his claws grazing her skin. "For three days I've watched over your recovery—"
"Th-Three days?!" The Princess croaked, a new sense of panic beginning to overwhelm her.
"—And you should do well to consider my kindness so far. Because if you keep this up…"
The claws that had delicately tucked her hair behind her ear traveled to caress the curve of her cheek, trailing down to further to cup her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
"It just might run out."
The potential consequences ran through her head, her mind processing each nightmare scenario with frightening vividness. Scenario's of him devouring her, of tearing her to shreds, or brutally stomping her into a bloody pulp. Each one as terrifying as the last, making her eyes involuntarily well up with tears.
She screwed her eyes shut tight, wrenching her face out of his grasp, unable to look at him any longer. The King tsk'd in response, rolling his eyes. The hand that had cradled her face in turn gingerly wrapped around her throat, earning a frightened mewl from the already terrified princess. He could feel the skipping beat of her heart pumping hard and fast under his thumb, soothing the skin there with a gentle caress.
"Ah, so worked up," The King started, releasing the arm that he still held hostage in his grip, trading the hold he had on her to pet the unbrushed hair on her head, her hair slipping between his fingers. "I suppose I can't hold it against you. I should know better that teasing s scared kitten would result in me getting scratched."
His gentle tone had returned, the guttural layers that accessorized it settling into dormancy. But it did little to settle Nicolette's nerves, knowing now just how quickly he could flip the switch.
The King had finally pulled away, freeing Princess Nicolette from the cage of his proximity, but he was still much too close for her comfort. He was close enough that their knees touched, the weight of his body cratering the bed deep enough that she sunk in towards him as well.
Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye, her mouth dropping when she got a better look at it, realizing what it was. It was a veiny limb, a tentacle, sprouting off from his back and slithering through the air. It slid under a forgotten plate of food, lifting it up gracefully before placing it in The King's waiting arms, disappearing back into his flesh like it was never there.
A claw stabbed a juicy grape off the plate, its juices dripping down his finger as he offered it towards her.
"Come, eat, it's been three days of you half-consciously eating nothing but spoonfuls of water and porridge. You're going to need actual sustenance if you're going to be able to be able to engage in the wedding tonight."
"TONIG—?!"
Nicolette's cry was cut off when the grape was suddenly stuffed in her mouth, it's bitter-sweetness exploding in her mouth after being neglected of proper sustenance or moisture for days on end. She instinctively fell quiet, covering her mouth out of embarrassment when she saw the smug smile creep its way across his face.
"Yes, tonight. The date had already been set ahead of time, and now you're here. It's too late to change it now."
She swallowed, nearly choking it down, unable to clear her mouth fast enough.
"B-But I'm only just now awake! I-I, I need more time! Please, this isn't fair!"
The King shook his head, plucking a tiny sausage off from the plate with his claw once more, reaching out to put it up to her lips like he previously did with the grape from before.
"I know it's not fair, love, but it's better now than never."
Nicolette would have rather not had to do this at all. But she didn't dare say it out loud. This union was for the greater good of her kingdom. Both kingdoms.
"It's why I've taken charge of your care while you recovered for the time being. Think of it as… as my way of making it up to you."
Princess Nicolette stared at The King for several long moments, inspecting his features for any sort of micro-expression, any sort of hint that he was expecting something from her for his efforts, any hint of deceit whatsoever. Growing up actively participating in the courts, then being deeply involved in the politics of her kingdom, had made her especially adept at reading even the most stony of masks.
But with The King? She was at a total loss.
How can you read the face of someone who could shift their flesh at will?
"…Is my Samuel okay?" The princess finally asked, her voice much softer than it had been this entire encounter.
He rolled his eyes, forcing the little sausage between her lips before resting the plate of food in her lap. The meat had cooled significantly compared to when he had initially brought it into her room, but it was still just as delicious, the taste of smoke and grease and maple reminding her as much as the grape just how starving she was.
"She's just fine. She's been housed with the other knights at the barracks. She'll even be attending the ceremony, despite her treachery towards me."
His words had lost some of their warmth, clearly not happy with discussing the female knight that had attempted— and failed, badly— at slaying him.
"Like I said, eat, stretch your body. You're going to need to build up your strength for tonight's ceremony. Not to mention the…" His words trailed off, his abysmal red stare wandering up and down her body. She felt the urge to cover herself up once more before he turned his eyes away, pushing himself up off the bed finally.
"…The what?" Nicolette quizzed, feeling a knot of anticipation battle for space in her empty stomach.
"Ah, er…. nothing, it's nothing." He swiftly left for the chamber's door, the frame creaking loudly as he swung it open with ease. "I will see you soon, love. I look forward to it."
And with that, the door shut, and she was left alone again.
Three days. Three days, she had been completely unconscious. Three days, she had succumbed to her body's ailments, losing the opportunity to find a way out of this total shit-show she had found herself in. Three days that poor Samuel was probably losing their— her mind with worry over her safety.
Guilt washed over her, consuming even her hunger, sucking out the succulent flavors of the breakfast that had been so generously made for her. But there was also hope there, as small and meek as it seemed. It glimmered within her, giving her the strength to force herself to choke down whatever was on her plate.
Sir Samuel was alive, and well at that. Well enough that she was being allowed to attend the ceremony. That's what mattered. She just needed to keep herself together, stay strong until tonight.
She was going to see her knight again.
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