The Girl Who Flew Away

Some hearts are just like towers, they're made of stone.

Long, long ago, long before the little bird flew over the ocean, long before the little bird stole a little nut it found on the forest floor, long before the bird flew over a fertile field and dropped the nut, long before the nut grew into a tall strong tree, long before your cradle was cut from the wood of that tree. There was a King, and he had three sons.

The oldest was charismatic, proud and strong. He would make a fine heir to the throne. So his Father trained him in the arts of ruling.


The second son was talented, quiet, and brave. He showed an interest in the sword, and he could best any man who dared challenge him. So his Father had him trained in the arts of fighting.

But the youngest was failure, he showed no interest in the arts of war or ruling, he could not be a scholar because he was too impatient, he could not be a priest because he scorned God, he could not be a minstrel because he refused to perform. His Father did not know what to do with him, so he decided to have him betrothed to a young woman from the North.

But the youngest son had no interest in women, so he ran away to seek his one and only passion, traveling. He traveled up all around the world.

They say that he did find a woman one day, some say that she melted out of a tree and fell into his arms, others that she was a river nymph who seduced him with her songs.

She had long tangled dark hair, and she loved him from the depths of her wild heart. But she yearned for the forest, her homeland, where she had been born, while he yearned for the road. In the end they had to part, but sometimes they would come together, and just as the moon would rise into the sky they would meet, and unite once again.

Some people you can't cage in, you can't hold them captive. Because they were born to be free. Thrones are cages, wars are traps, arranged marriages are snares, and some people just aren't meant for any of that, and you have to let them go.

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Towers are cold unloving places, stone and unyielding. Not the ideal place to raise a child, for a child will throw herself on the stone over and over again, bruising herself to no avail. Just searching for a answer. Just trying to get out. When Father slammed those gates closed I had a feeling of foreboding. Like I was seeing the last of my freedom, like I was being caged in. And I was.

At first I used a needle, scraping futilely against the stone. Looking for a crack of light, anything. Anything that wasn't gray, cold, and hard. My Father lived in his study right next to where I was held captive, but he never let me in. He would come and visit me twice a day, he never let any servants in. He would bring me my food and water, sit beside me on the bed, and wait until I was done.

I was a active child, and I soon learned how to use the stone arches and long twisting stairways to my advantage. I had a good time while it lasted, but then I grew bored. I was constantly trying to find something to entertain me. There was only a few books, which I read over and over again, repeating the words to myself in a feverish crescendo.

When I was young I would beg my Father to let me out, but he would only grow angry and limit his visits further. I stopped asking him, instead a cold hard resentment grew in my stomach. I began to hate him, he was my jailer, my barred door, my iron gate, my guard, but never my Father.

I knew nothing about him. He was just a foreboding man with graying hair who would visit me every now and then. We never talked anymore, I talked to myself more then him. I was fearful that my voice would dry away into a tiny skeleton. I talked, I sang, I read out loud. I did everything in my power to stop myself from going mad.

One day when I was reading in my chamber, when I saw a tiny crack that had appeared in my wall. My hands were shaking with excitement as I scrabbled at the hard concrete until some light shown through. My eyes hurt from the light, and I pulled myself up to look through. At first I could see nothing, then gradually I saw colors, green, brown, vines, plants. The clear blue sky, of which I had not seen since I was but a child. Seven at the most.

I broke down and wept, I had never seen anything more beautiful. But now that I had seen that, I wanted more. So everyday I worked on widening the crack a little further, until I could see the woods. Then more of the sky, then finally the stream below my tower room. When my Father came to visit I'd hang a cloth over the crack. I began to plan a escape.

One day I was peering through the crack when I saw a man riding through the woods. He was dressed all in black, he rode a horse, his face was narrow, his eyes a steely gray, and his pitch black hair shone like a raven's wing in the sun. I tried to call out, but my voice broke, because I was afraid. Strangely enough he came back the next day, and the next. He seemed to have a routine, but I never called out again for fear of my Father hearing.

Still I continued to widen my crack. Until I could reach out and touch the vines growing outside, my hand looked like a tendril of mist, it was so pale and thin, the blue veins coursing like rivers through my translucent skin.

A week later the crack was big enough to reach my arm through, and in a month my middle would almost fit through. I worked every day, almost all day long. I finally was able to pull myself out onto a small ledge beneath the crack. But below me was a dizzying height that made my stomach lurch in terror, I had to have help to get down. Just then the man in black rode past again, this was my chance.

I waved my arms a little and called out, it came out as more of a harsh croak then a call for help, but it got his attention.

He turned and rode in my direction. My heart was bursting with excitement. He stopped at the tower and looked up. He frowned. "What are you doing up there?" He asked. The sound of his voice speaking to me was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. His voice was the first besides my Father's that I had heard in almost an entire decade. "I'm trying to get down." I said shyly.

He got off his horse and opened his arms. "Jump. It's not that far."
I took a shaky breath, I was trusting my life and my freedom to this stranger. But what choice did I have? So I jumped. He caught me easily and put me down. But I did not forget the strange feeling of my flesh against his, the brief moment that he held my bare hand in his gloved one.

He peered at me. "Why were you up there?" He asked in confusion.
"I was being held captive." I said bitterly.
"How long have you been in there?"
"Almost a decade."
"Jesus Christ." He swore. I didn't say anything, I felt awkward, and very aware of the fact that I finally had real dirt under my feet. "What's your name?" He asked.
"I...don't remember." The truth was I had not been called anything since I was born. My Father told me I was bad luck, and therefore I should not be named.
He narrowed his eyes, confused I think. "Garron."
"What?"
"Garron, my name."
I nodded uncertainly. I had no idea how to act around him. "Get on the horse, I'm taking you to the castle."
I saw no reason to argue, I got on with trembling legs, and he had to lift me up so I did not fall.

We rode away, and I only looked back once.

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It had been a long time since I had rode on a horse, and it was all I could do to not fall off. To be exact it had been a entire seven years since I had last been on a horse, it was almost comforting to feel the living animal underneath me, it's sinewy muscles vibrating as it trotted.

Garron had not spoken since we had left the tower. He smelled like metal and leather, and he made me feel nervous. His hard mouth, his cold eyes, I had at first thought him a angel from the heavens above. My savior, my knight in shining armor like in the fairytales. But as we rode further I could not help the feeling of foreboding that rose in my heart, thick and choking, like poisoned honey.

As we rode further and further from the tower I had been raised in I couldn't help the tears that streamed down my cheeks. I was frightened, after all, for the past seven years I had never been outside. The tower had been as much my home as my prison.

So I sobbed silently as the strange man took me away, I don't know if he noticed, if he did I doubt he cared. Soon we came to a clearing, and I could see that just outside of the border of this seemingly endless forest lay a land. A land that was like nothing I had ever seen, it was golden, and there was paths, but the paths were made of stone and cold marble.

And other horses just like the one I rode pulled small houses behind them, I saw a young girl turn to look at me through the window of one of these houses. Far ahead there was a tower larger then any tower I had ever seen. "That's the castle." Said Garron, pointing a long finger at it.
"It's so big." I whispered.
He laughed, a harsh laugh, full of metal and thorns. I flinched. "It's quite small for a castle." He said, I detected a certain bitterness in his voice.

I did not want to go to the giant tower, it scared me, with it's men dressed in metal, and it's tall turrets, and it's cold stone walls. I wanted to go back to the meadows and valleys. I tried to tell him, but my words froze in my mouth.

We stopped at the giant stone walls that surrounded the castle, and he had to talk to the strange men dressed in metal. They pointed at me and laughed a little, I didn't know what to do. I closed my eyes and pretended that they were not there.

They let us pass, and Garron took us to the entrance of the castle and helped me down. "You should get cleaned up." He said. "There is maids who will dress you, then I will take you to my Father." I said nothing, after all what was I to say? That he frightened me with his stone face and iron eyes? That his castle was like the looming fate that I could not avoid? That I wanted to cry and cry until there was no tears left?

I said nothing. This seemed to discomfort him, and he roughly grabbed my arm and hauled me up the stone steps into a large warm room. He called several young women who looked at me like I was some sort of toad, he told them to get me cleaned up. One woman took me by the arm and led me into another large steamy room. My head was beginning to hurt.

She wanted me to take off my clothes, that much I understood. But I was wary, and did not wish to strip in front of this stern woman that I did not know. Seeing my hesitation she grabbed me again and pulled off my torn dress herself.

In the end it wasn't so bad. There was a warm bath, and she allowed me to soak for as long as I wished. I could feel the warmth spreading through me, and my heart lifted a little, I even managed a small smile. She came back and washed my thin pale body, then brushed my hair and piled it on top of my head with sharp jeweled pins.

I was then dressed in a simple red gown, but it was beautiful. Nothing like the rags I had worn in my tower. When she led me to the mirror I no longer recognized myself. The girl staring back at me was not the girl who had left the tower. Those wide green eyes had a sort of determination in them, and my dark hair was pulled back in a way that revealed my sharp cheekbones and full face. The gown fell in a silken waterfall over a curvy body that I hadn't known I had.

I was then led through the door, back into the large warm room, where Garron waited for me. His eyes widened when he saw me, and I saw a sort of smile twist onto his cold face. I took a step away from him. "Come." He said. He motioned toward the entrance. "I'm not a dog." I said, I spoke louder then I intended, the maids turned and looked at me.

He gave that twisted smile again. "Of course, how foolish of me. But I need something to call you...Miss."
"I have no idea."
"Anne."
I grimaced. "No."
"Mary."
"No."
"Fiona?"
It seemed like a strange name to me, but I liked it better then Anne, which sounded like something breaking. I shrugged uncertainly. "It will do."

"Then." He said, giving me a mocking bow. "Fiona, would you do me the honor of stepping through this entrance?"

This time I followed.

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The rooms in the castle seemed endless, and my mounting fear only made them seem more so. The air in the castle felt choked with a strange stillness, holding me down, pulling me in, strangling my very soul with it's shadowy fingers.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked Garron, who walked ahead of me with confident strides. "I told you. To my Father."
"Who is your Father?"
"....The King." His voice held a strange anger, and it sounded choked and bitter. Garron? A Prince? There was nothing princely about him, if anything he seemed sinister and cold. I wisely kept quiet, and continued to follow closely behind him. Obedient as a dog.

We finally came to two large imposing doors. They stood in my way like two great guardians. He stopped there. "Go on."
"You're not coming with me?" I suddenly wanted him with me, I didn't want to go into this large room, I didn't want to be alone again, I didn't want this suppressing stone holding me in, with no escape.
"No." He said. "I'm not." And before I could ask why he turned around and walked away.

The great doors swung open with a eery creak, surprising me. I took a deep breath, and squaring my small shoulders, I stepped forward.

Have you ever seen real darkness in someone's eyes? Perhaps you have seen anger, fear, even a haunting shadow in their visage. But I doubt you have ever seen true darkness. The kind of darkness I speak of sends shivers down your backbone, it mades you feel afraid. It makes you feel like you are walking into a trap. It makes your heart spasm, and you want to run until you can run no more. But your legs are stuck to the floor. And...it's like a nightmare...quicksand...

From afar he just looked old, sad, and...quite harmless. He was slumped on his throne, his hand rested on his brow. He had dark hair like mine, with a few strands of grey. He was dressed in black and deep green, rubies imbedded on the back of his throne. His crown looked like it was made of pure gold, and it hung heavy on his bent head. Two men dressed in white stood behind him, cloaked in the shadows of his throne.

But then he lifted his head, and my heart quailed within my chest, his eyes...so full of darkness. No joy, no light, no compassion or caring, just a unspeakable terror within their bottomless depths. I had not seen many people in my young life, but I knew right away that I disliked him.


"You are?" He asked in a bored voice.
"I-I'm I...my name is Fiona." I said. My voice was trembling almost as much as my legs, though not quite.
"That doesn't explain who you are."
"I'm...a girl."
"I can see that."
"I am just a girl, no one special..."
"I see."
I remained silent. I did not know what I should say, I did not know why Garron had brought me to this man. How was this strange King going to help me? He looked as if he would sooner have me beheaded then assist me.

He stood, he was not as old as I had previously thought. He had the grace of a younger person, but his face looked old beyond his years, and those eyes...I shuddered. He took my chin and lifted my head. "Interesting." He said, to no one in particular it seemed. I kept my mouth shut.

"You are lucky." He said sternly. "You have nice eyes, and I am in a good mood today. You may stay as a maid servant and help in the kitchens. You will stay out of my way, you will obey all orders."

It seemed that I had been dismissed. He was not like the Kings I had read of in the fairytales, those Kings had been benevolent and kind. They had asked questions. It seemed strange that he had made me a maidservant with a wave of his bejeweled hand, that he had not asked where I was from, had not wondered why his son had randomly thrown me to his mercy, was not suspicious that I was some sort of spy...

It was all very strange, but all I could feel was a sense of relief. I had walked into the lion's mouth and survived, I was incredibly lucky to be still alive. For he did not strike me as a benevolent King from the tales.

Garron was waiting outside, he looked agitated. "So, what did he say?"
"He's made me a maidservant." I said, still struck by the oddness of it all.
He raised his eyebrows. "He must be in a good mood today...you're fortunate. Come, I'll introduce you to the cook."
I was burning with questions. This was like no kingdom I had ever read of, or heard of. What was this place? What kind of place took random foreigners and made them servants? But I bit my lip hard, I had escaped with my life today. It would not do to ask more questions.

Garron took me down the stairs and brought me to the kitchens. With a cursory glance the Cook set me to cleaning the floor.

So began my life as a kitchen maid. Despite the choked feeling I had felt since I had entered the castle, and the way the Cook directed her burning glare at me, I could only feel intense relief. The King had let me live, I was free from my tower, and I had something to do.

It was a start.

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Working in the kitchen was hard, everyday I had to get up at exactly the same time, I had to scrub the floor, wash the dishes, and serve the soldiers. It wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the soldiers, and of course the Cook. The Soldiers would grab at my hair and make cutting comments about my body and looks. The Cook would beat me whenever I made a mistake, and her tongue was as punishing as the paddle she used to beat me with.

I soon acquired many bruises. I had attempted several escapes, but guards watched me everywhere I went. It seemed I had escaped one trap, only to walk into another. My life revolved around cages, stonewalls, and people who sought to control me.

But as a result I soon grew stronger, and my thin arms and legs filled out a little. I was fed better at the castle then I had been in my small tower. I was also exposed to sunlight and could take baths in the small stream just outside the kitchens. I brushed my hair everyday and it began to grow silkier and thicker. In many ways I was better off then I had been when I was in my tower.

I learned to avoid the guards, and when I had to feed them I carried a sharp needle with me. I got in trouble countless times for poking them, but managed to waltz out of it with my charming smile and wide eyes. I knew it wouldn't be like this forever though, one day the guards would tire of me and would find some way to be rid of me.

So I tread carefully. I had a strong desire to live, after all I had been locked in a tower for seven years. There was so much to see and do, I didn't want to miss out on any of it.

I had been resting in the hallway, waiting for the Cook to be done with the onslaught of guards that had come in this morning. The young maidservant who did the laundry took one look at me and told me to slip off and rest. She was kind enough, always slipping me bits and pieces of food, dropping a kind word here and there, she made kitchen life bearable.

It was then I noticed something off about the tapestry on the right side of the room. It was a lovely tapestry, a depiction of some religious event. A man kneeling perhaps, his head bent in respect for God. But below the man there was a large lump in the cloth, it could have just been a knot in the wall, but it didn't seem likely.

Before making sure that no one was watching me I slipped across the room and pulled the tapestry away from the wall. It was a door knob, a hidden doorway. The door was halfway open, whoever had last been inside had forgotten to shut it. I was excited, perhaps inside this room lay the key to my escape. I was tired of the castle, and I very badly wanted out. But no chance had presented itself to me yet, until now.

You must not forget that I had been in a tower for seven years, most things were new to me. I had never seen a map, never seen a ship or the ocean, I had never even heard of other countries or islands. I knew nothing of the world of war and men.

So when I saw the giant map spread out across the large oaken table, I was stopped dead in my tracks. I had never seen something so beautiful. But of course I did not understand anything. To me it was just lovely lines etched on a giant piece of parchment. It looked like a drawing, but it seemed to have a pattern. And I thought for sure it must mean something.

I stared at it for a long time. There was exes and red marks in certain spots all over it, there was a few crosses on the map. There was a stack of papers near the map. I of course could not read, but everything in this room was forbidden and fascinating.

I stared for far to long. I heard a loud creak behind me and jolted like a guilty child. Garron stood behind me, his hand on the door handle, a confused look on his face. I think he was to surprised to be angry.

"I'm sorry." I said without really meaning it. He didn't say anything for the longest time. Then he slowly closed the door behind him and stepped toward me. "Why are you in here?" He asked weakly.

I shrugged lamely. "I...was exploring." He suddenly noticed the stack of papers next to me, he seemed almost angry as he snatched them from the table. "Did you read these?" He said. His face had gone dark with anger, and...fear.
"I can't read." I whispered. "I see." He said, he seemed relieved.

He turned and put the papers inside the small chest beside his table, he locked it carefully and took it to the closet. I could have slipped out then, he wouldn't have noticed or cared. But as usual my curiosity got the better of me. I couldn't help myself. "What is this?" I asked hesitantly, trailing a finger over the map.

He turned around, he seemed surprised to still find me there. "It's a map."
"A map?"
His eyes seemed to almost light up in a eagerness I had never seen before, and for a time the stone gate was moved away, and there was a child there. A child eager to please and to share his interests.

He told me tales of Kings in far off lands, he told me of countries where men do not speak our language. He told me of the wars, of gold and silver. Of spices and towers full of wealth. But most of all, he spoke of the ocean.

And he told me of the seagulls, and ships, and how you can sail until you sail right off the edge of the earth. "But I believe there is more." He said, his voice quivering with excitement. "I believe that you can sail forever, and that there is more out there then you could imagine. I want to go there, I want to sail until I can sail no more, I want to be out on the open sea, I want to feel the wind in my hair, the salt..." His voice faded away.

"And I believe that you can do exactly that." I said softly. He looked at me, surprised. And I think we saw a kindred spirit in each other's eyes, a yearning to be free, a yearning to know. But then a guard rapped on the door, reminding him of his duties in the field. And it almost hurt to see that stone gate slam shut again.
"I'll sneak you back into the kitchens." He said, hauling me out the door and through the hallway. "Do not come again, if you are caught you will be severely punished."

But I came again, and again, and again, and he was always there. I soon forgot about escaping. Because he was letting me learn how to read from a great book he had on his shelf, and he taught me ancient runes and showed me things I had never seen before. Soon all I could think about was that map, so full of secrets, so full of knowledge, so full of freedom.

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I was obsessed with Maps, and reading, and anything that I didn't know yet. The cook's tongue had not softened, the blows no less painful, the taunts of the soldiers just as wounding. But always the books were waiting for me. Garron was a surprisingly good tutor, but he wasn't always there, and I taught myself quite a lot.

There was giant books full of lore, and pictures of stars, I could not understand much of the writing yet. But by looking at the pictures I made sense as best as I could. I studied that map day and night, I learned about the channels, I learned about the oceans and the rivers, the islands and castles, those uncharted lands that were veiled with mystery.

I learned quickly, but there was still a lot of things I didn't understand.
I didn't understand why Garron locked those papers away in the closet, I didn't understand the thinly veiled hate in his eyes when he spoke of his Father, I didn't understand the marked boundaries on the map, I didn't understand why guards shadowed Garron's every footstep.

And everyday was a step away from the ignorant child I had once been, and a step closer to the dangerous world of politics and war. In the end, perhaps it would have been better if I had remained ignorant.

September 10th, 1713 (I don't know my history very well unfortunately, so I don't know if this is the correct date for that time period. I'll fix it soon!) I had been at the castle for exactly three months.

It was that day that everything changed. I was washing the dirt encrusted floor when a frightened young messenger came running to me. "The King has summoned you." He said in his falsetto voice.
I dusted my floury hands off on my apron and got dressed in a more presentable gown. I was a little frightened, was it possible the King I had angered the King in anyway? I tried to steady my shaking hands as the boy led me up the staircase.

The King was in his own chambers, he was standing near the window staring out into the forest when I came in. I could not imagine why the King would summon me, a kitchenmaid, to his chambers. But I remained silent, forcing back the words that tried to buzz out from between my lips like angry bees.

He finally turned, looking my up and down in his superior way. His eyes were no less burning, and no less dark and full of despair. But I no longer quailed under his gaze. After all I was a completely different girl then the one who had entered his presence what seemed to be a long time ago.

"Fiona." He said, he attempted a smile, but it looked more like a painful grimace. "Please, sit."
I primly sat, my eyes never leaving his face. I did not trust him at all, he seemed like a hungry beast waiting to strike, and I felt like I was a particularly juicy prey, no more then that.

He poured himself a glass of rich dark wine, when he offered it to me I shook my head. "I have a proposition for you." He said. "I have noticed that you have taken a...liking to my son, Garron."
My face must have betrayed my emotions, because he smiled, much like a cat who has just got it's claws in the sparrow's wings. "Yes I know of your secret meetings with him. I have eyes everywhere, after all, I am the King. What were you two doing in there hmm? Maybe your not as innocent as you look."

It took all my will not to spring up and hit him in the face, but I held myself still with great effort. "You see." Said the King, sighing. "Garron and I used to understand each other quite well, but when he was about ten he stopped talking to me, he wouldn't participate in the sword competitions. How was he then to prove himself? He was my only possible heir to the throne, and I needed him to be a real man.

I then noticed that he was going to the forest all the time, his...Mother, was one of Them. A barbarian woman, can't imagine why I ever bothered with her. But it seemed that he had found out who she was, and that he was spending time with her. She was a witch, that woman. She was teaching him things I did not approve of, bad habits, sorcery, so I had her killed.

Instead of calming down and being a good boy, he started rebelling. He threw a fit over his Mother's death, then it seemed everything he did was to anger me. But I had to put up with him, he was after all my only heir. But he's been getting worse, and I have reason to believe that he plotting against me. It was the last straw when I found out that my brother just had a second child, a boy. Which means that my Nephew can be the heir, not preferable of course. But better then Garron.

Now I need Garron out of the picture, he's become a problem. I can't poison him because he has a food tester, I can't publicly kill him, it would cause to much of a upheaval, and I can't assassinate him. It would be to messy, and he's to cautious anyhow."

He leaned forward, his face uncomfortably close. "You're the only one he trusts." He whispered, his voice rasping in my ear. "I want you to kill him."

I nearly knocked over my chair in my haste to get away from him. "What?!" I backed up against the wall. "I think you heard me." He said smoothly, returning to his seat. "You will have conditions of course...in return for killing my son. You can have whatever you want. A large Mansion perhaps, on the outskirts of the woods. Safe passage through my kingdom...some gold, a husband, silk dresses. Everything that any girl wants. How could you refuse?"

How could I refuse indeed? I thought bitterly, It seemed I had no choice in the matter. "And if I don't?"
"Easy." He said, his voice soft as silk. "I kill you. Right here, right now." Within the folds of his sleeve I glimpsed the glint of a knife.

In the end there was nothing I could do but take the knife. He led me to the door and let me leave. The world was a cruel place indeed, Father's seeking to kill their sons, children being locked in towers for years. It seemed that the little goodness that remained in the world, people like the King sought to destroy.

I stayed in the hallway for a long time, my head bent. I had always wanted to be a heroine like in the stories, but I had never wanted to be the murderer. I had idealized the world, locked away in my tower, so far away from it all.

It was late when I finally came to his study, the stars were just beginning to come out, the wind was howling eerily. I gave the pretense of calm, but my lie spoke in the gleam of the knife that I held in my left hand. He was focusing on a small map, his brow furrowed in thought, here was the perfect moment, it was easy. I could slide the knife in and out, quick, he wouldn't know until it was too late.

But I sat down in my chair instead, my heart thudding like a drum. I was so scared. He looked up. "You look tired." He observed. "Perhaps you should sleep." I merely shrugged and continued what I hoped was a convincing show of calm. But he must have read my uneasiness in my eyes. "Fiona, what's wrong?" He asked, there was real concern in his voice. Was it true? Was I really the only person in this castle that he truly trusted?

I turned away so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. "I've had a exhausting day." I could tell he wasn't convinced but thankfully he left me alone. In the end he made it so easy for me, he lay down on his bed and fell asleep. He was unprotected and vulnerable, there would be no struggling, no screaming, just as long as I did it in the right spot.

He looked handsome in a way I had not noticed before, his head pillowed on his hand, his tired face, aged beyond it's years.

He was probably only about 27 or so, but he looked far older. I could see his father's nose and cheekbones, but there was a strength in his face that his Father did not possess. Perhaps it came from his Mother, whom his Father had so callously killed.

I held the knife above him, I would slit his throat, it would be easy. I lowered the knife to his skin, maybe I should have done it then, but I hesitated. And in a flash he was awake and had me against the door, my knife already in his hand, he had my wrist in a iron tight grip and the pain was almost unbearable, but worst of all was the betrayal in his eyes. "I trusted you." He whispered.

"Why?"
I closed my eyes tightly, unwilling to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry." I whispered.
"I don't believe you." He pushed me away from him. I cradled my wrist in my left hand. "You're just like all the others." His words cut into me like a searing flame. "Now, tell me why I woke up with you standing over me with a knife, tell me how long you've been lying to me, and who set you up to this."

He made me sit down, he stayed exactly three strides away from me, his lips tight, his face blank. It reminded me of how he was when I first met him. "You're Father." I said finally. "He wants you dead, he believes that you're going to kill him. He said he needs you out of the picture...he also said that I'm the only one that you- that you trusted. So he told me to kill you." My voice was wobbling dangerously, any pretense of self control that I'd had was gone.

"And?" Garron's voice was dangerously quiet.
"He told me if I didn't kill you he would kill me, and that if I did he would give me almost anything I wanted." I said miserably.
"Convenient." Said Garron tightly. "And of course you agreed. Selfish, predictable, but understandable of course."
"That's not fair!" I cried, my voice choked with unshed tears.
"The world isn't fair." Said Garron somberly. "Now little traitor, what are you going to do next? Are you going to slip away and pretend this never happened? Or are you going to try and kill me now that I am awake?"
"Why are you being so cruel about this? It's not like I had a choice."
"Everyone has a choice. You could have told me everything before you attempted to kill me, you could have been brave, but you weren't."

It had begun to rain outside, it rushed down in torrents outside the castle, the wind howling like a dying woman. A strange stillness came over me, and I suddenly knew what we had to do.
"You should pack." I said quietly.
"What?"
"You should pack." I repeated firmly. "We have enough time to be gone from here before daybreak. But only if we hurry."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
I was already moving quickly around the room, gathering a large satchel and packing it with things we would need.
"We will leave here as quickly as we can, avoid detection, I'll go with you as far as the coastline. Then I'll be out of your hair, maybe find a job with a fisherman. You can pursue your dream, go sailing to those islands you love so much."

He stared at me like he didn't know me. "You're insane." He said bleakly.
"What choice do we have Garron? You're Father's going to find out I didn't kill you, he'll kill me then he'll come back for you. If we want to live this is our best chance."
I rummaged in his cupboard and found some hard bread and jerky. "We need to get going." I said briskly. "Why are you hesitating?"

Within half a hour we had already snuck past the guards and were heading through the woods. Garron was good, he knew just how to slip through the shadows without making a sound. I was noisier then him, having no experience with such things. And I made a embarrassing racket stumbling and crunching along behind him.

It felt so good to be free from the confines of the castle, better then good. I suppressed the urge to scream my joy into the wind. At this moment I didn't care if there was men already preparing to pursue us, I didn't care that Garron would probably never trust me again, I almost didn't care about the beautiful map that we had had to leave behind in his study. I was finally free, and that was all that mattered.

And now I was already rolling toward my future like a wayward boulder on a slope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The woods outside Havensburg Castle remain untouched by human hand, full of life and beauty. The mist clinging to the green trees like a silken veil, the trees tall and ancient. Still it rained, and we were soaked before we had gotten far. Still we kept going, we had to get as far as we could before daybreak and the King found out that we were gone.

Garron had not spoken a word to me since we left, he remained grimly silent. I knew he no longer trusted me, and probably never would again. I didn't try to engage him in conversation, I simply focused on keeping up with him. His long stride and me being unused to walking through such tangled terrain made it hard indeed.

Around midnight we stopped for a quick rest. He observed me with hooded eyes. "You won't get far this way." He said in a condescending tone.
"I'll manage." I snapped.

It was strange, for when I looked behind us it was almost as if our tracks had disappeared. For there was nothing but trees and soft soil where we had just walked. I tried to looked behind me as I walked, but I couldn't seem to catch when exactly the tracks disappeared.

It was just beginning to get light when we stopped in a small clearing. "What do we do now?"
"We'll climb into a tree and rest a little, then we'll be off again."
He found a large tree and climbed it easily, he hesitated for a moment as he bent down to help me up. For a terrible moment I thought he was going to leave me there. But then he grasped my hand and pulled me up beside him.

I sat as far away from him as I could and fell asleep almost immediately. When I woke the rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly, the warmth flooded my body and made me feel like I was alive again. I smiled a little, for it seemed there was good things still left in this world. My companion was already preparing to leave again. We were soon back on the run, my legs ached and I kept stumbling on the tangled roots.

I think there came a point when we both silently agreed that it was hopeless. I had gradually become aware of the men surrounding us, it sounded like they had dogs, and they were closing in. I don't know how they found us, they must have been expert trackers.

We simply could not move quicker in our weak state, and they had us pinned against a large stand of oaks before long. Garron had his sword out, he dropped his bag and moved so I was behind him. It surprised me that he still had any intention of protecting me considering how I had betrayed him.

"Predictable, little witches are just your type aren't they Garron?" Taunted one of the men, he had dismounted and was advancing on Garron, Garron held his ground but I could see his hand shaking.
"Keeping your bed warm at night is she?" The men guffawed. I grabbed the knife in Garron's belt and put myself in front of him. "Leave him alone." I said.
"Brave little witch." Said the man, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. "She's comely enough. I'll make a deal with you, Cousin, if you give me this little piece of flesh I'll spare your life. I'll just tell the King I killed you. The beasts will get you soon enough anyhow."

After what I had done what reason did Garron have to keep me? I was slowing him down anyway, with me gone he could go to the ocean, he could be away from here, it was no less then I deserved in the end.

Behind me Garron hesitated, he seemed unsure. "No." He said vehemently. "You can't have her." He pushed me aside and confronted his Cousin.
"Well, well, you're becoming soft, until a couple months ago you would have given her up in a heartbeat. What happened hmm? Little witch got to you or are you just getting weak and tender in your old age?"

Garron swung his sword at him, but his Cousin ducked laughing. "You know you can't outfight me tadpole." This seemed to strike a nerve in Garron, he jabbed furiously, cutting the other man's arm. One of the men grabbed me from behind and I punched backward with the knife, he gave a sharp gasp and let me go. In front of me Garron and his Cousin were slashing and cutting at each other.

The other men had drawn in a tight circle around us, I could feel that this was all one cruel game. There was one inevitable end to all of this, Garron went down fighting, I would be taken prisoner, and the King would win. I wanted them to stop, I wanted this to end, I put my hand out in front of me. "Please stop!" I screamed, my voice seemed to echo in my ears.

I don't remember much of what happened after that, just that I felt this unbearable searing pain in my head and that everything went black. Then later I felt strong arms around me, he was running, it was raining, my head hurt so bad, someone was screaming. Then it was black again.

I was unconscious for a long time, he carried me the whole way, he didn't stop running, carrying both our packs, me, and his weapons. He was soon exhausted, but he managed to keep on. He said I woke briefly and wouldn't stop screaming...

I found what he told me later hard to believe, and I still do to this day. He said that when I put my hand out in front of me there was a burst of light and that the ground seemed to swallow the men up. He said that within seconds moss had grown over them, that some of the men were strangled in strange thorny green vines. He didn't waste time with questions, he simply picked me up from where I had fallen and ran.

We rested for almost an entire day so he and I could recover. We were wasting precious time that we should've been using to cover more ground, but neither of us could go on. "How did you do that?" He whispered to me, his voice was shaking as he helped me sit up so I could drink the water he had brought. "I don't know." It hurt my throat to talk. "I just- I wanted the fighting to stop...but it wasn't me exactly. It's like I...asked for help and something listened."

He shook his head disbelievingly and lay me back down again. Within a day I was feeling well enough to get moving again. "Tell me one thing." I said as we packed our things. "Why didn't you just hand me over? I deserve it after all that I've done to you."
"I didn't seem right." He shrugged, I asked no more questions and he offered no more answers.

I tried not to think about what I had done to much. It seemed like a impossible dream, something that had happened many years ago, something to forget. I spent most of my time walking, climbing, and trying to keep up with his long legs. My body had grown much stronger, and I was pleased to find that I was losing that pallid pasty look to my skin, my hair was growing out and I could walk longer and faster each day.
It was about five days after the incident that we came to break in the forest, it ended in a ledge. There was a long drop below it that made me dizzy, but beyond that there was a valley, and within that valley lay a small village. I was not over keen to see people again, I had grown comfortable with our steady pace and comfortable silence, we had made a pattern here in the woods.

But we had to keep going, and soon Garron was scaling the cliff, trying to find a safe way to get down the steep wall. There was vines here and there to grab onto, but it was virtually impossible to get down. I almost fell on several occasions. "You're not good at climbing." Garron said bluntly as I sent a cascade of rocks down the cliff wall for the fourth time. I was shaking to much to respond, but I managed a sort of glare in his direction.

There was a small ledge where we stopped and rested, it was a about ten foot drop from there. Garron was soon down, but I refused to move. "Come on." He said, exasperation lacing his voice. He put the pack down and held out his arms. "Just jump then." He said, he sounded slightly amused. It reminded me forcibly of the time so long ago that I jumped from the tower, and how he caught me, the silent disbelief on his face as I told him how long I had been confined.

I jumped, he caught me perfectly, his arms wrapping tightly around me. I leaned into him for a instant and he dropped me like I was hot coal, I nearly stumbled and managed to regain my balance. We said nothing to each other the rest of way down to the valley. We stopped just on the outskirts of the village.
"Is it safe to go in there?" I asked, almost hoping he would say no.
"Of course it's not, but we need supplies. Most people outside the castle hate my Father, they'll be willing to help, us being fugitives. We just need to be careful not to say to much."

I nodded, but I looked behind my shoulder at the already distant forest longingly. We headed toward the village, I found myself stopping ever minute or so, my heart ached with a terrible pain as I went ever further from the forest. But Garron had my hand firmly in his, and he dragged me forward in a iron grip.

It seemed I was forever destined to be dragged after him.

Maybe he'd let me go one day, but I found myself almost hoping he wouldn't.
"Foolish." I chided myself silently, don't hold on to what you cannot have, he is not for you. He's a prince with a mission, you're a crazy little girl who has no name.

The world is like a onion, you have to search under the layers of cruelty to find the good things deep inside, and those good things, oh they shine so bright.
Brighter then stars, brighter then the shiniest gold.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The people in the village were receptive enough, though they shook their heads at our tattered clothes and wrinkled their noses at how we smelled. We were soon separated so we could go bathe. The woman who washed me was much kinder then the one at the castle, she bathed me with lavender soap and clicked her tongue at my many bruises. Her hands were gentle enough, and I surrendered myself to her administrations.

She dressed me in a beautiful gown of deep green, much softer then the ones I wore at the castle. She fussed over my hair a little, but decided against putting it up. She said it framed my pretty face, it was the first time anyone had ever called me pretty. I pretended to be brushing dirt from my gown when in reality I was chasing back tears.

She led me to the mess hall where I ate with the other women. Their company was curious without being nosy or gossipy, and I was content. I ate my first real meal in days, I was soon falling asleep at the table and one of the women had to lead me to my chamber. I caught a glimpse of Garron as I was being taken away. He looked tired in body but there was a light in his eyes that had not been there before. He gave me a small smile as he left, and it occurred to me that he had not smiled at me since we had left the castle.

My dreams were shadowed that night. I dreamt that I was falling, there was no way out, I tried to grasp something in my hands, but it was to late. The air rushed around me as I screamed mutely, I had to stop before my body was broken on the rocks below. Garron was below me, he had his arms out as if he was going to catch me.

But when he wrapped his arms around me, he turned to stone. And his grip around me tightened until he was slowly strangling me, and I was struggling, and we were falling, and there was this horrible cracking noise, I realized that it was the sound of the stone statue breaking. But he wouldn't let go, and as he broke, he strangled me to death.

I was bleary eyed and groggy when I woke in the morning, I felt extremely ill. But I washed myself and dressed in the green gown of the previous day, I sat for a while, trying to gather my thoughts. For not the first time I wished I had been born a normal girl. Just a simple peasant girl, born and raised in the fields. These strange dreams, those powers that had erupted in the forest, I would give much to not have these.

Our hostess insisted that we stay one more day. "The lass yon won't make it far in this state." She said nodding at me. "You'd best say one more day, if not for your sake but for hers." I was indeed tired, but I didn't like us risking bringing the soldiers to this quaint little village. But we stayed, I didn't see Garron much, I mostly walked around in the gardens watching the women as they worked.

It seemed to be mostly women in the village, there was a few men here and there, but most of them were getting on in their years, or only small children.
"Oh lass," one of the women sighed when I inquired about this. "They took all of our good strong men, and they made them fight for things they don't even believe in. I don't know if we'll ever see em again. But we stay strong, after all what do women do? They cook, clean, and stay strong."

The hall was full of commotion that night, people were everywhere, there was minstrels playing in the back room. There was old men who had probably drank to much singing rowdy ballads to kitchen maids. I found a chair where I could watch the merrymaking without getting to involved, I found myself sitting next to Garron.

The stone gate in his eyes wasn't exactly gone, a shadow of it still lingered. But he looked more relaxed, and he even smiled at me again. I think leaving the castle had been good for him altogether, I think it had been good for both of us. But there was still a deep wound between us, and I knew things would never be quite the same.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, surprising me. Before I could respond the hall suddenly hushed. A old woman took a seat in the middle of the hall. "Tell us a story!" Someone yelled. The old woman glared for a moment. "In time, in time. First get old Braine a drink of somethin before her throat dries up." Someone quickly offered her ale.

She drank it before putting it down with a loud sigh. "Now, what story would you all like to hear tonight?"
"The Lady who Fell off the Cow." Someone yelled enthusiastically.
"Now, now, I've told that one a hundred times. And that's a story for babes still in their crib." She admonished.
"The Washerwoman?"
"I told that last time." She coughed.
"The Little Fisherman?"
"Since we have guests this fine night, I'll tell a tale no one has ever heard before. Else I'll have you all interrupting and tellin me how it Actually went and so on."

She gave a toothless smile before continuing. "I'll tell the tale of The Three Brothers. Once, long long ago there was a King, he had three fine sons. The oldest desired power, and he was to become King. The second desired glory, and he became a soldier. Proud was the King of these two fine boys. But the youngest was a failure. He didn't want power, he didn't want glory, he scorned the church, he was to impatient to be a scholar, he refused to perform, so he couldn't be a minstrel.

Oh the King didn't know what to with him, so he decided to have him married off to a woman from the North. It would make a strong alliance at least, but no. That rebellious little upstart took to the forest, his passion was exploring. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to see everything, he always had to be on the move. He couldn't hardly stand to be idle for a moment, he also loved to build things. But he was incredibly impatient and wouldn't stick with what he built, and away he would go. He was a handsome enough fellow, but the women soon gave up on him.

They wanted a home, and to settle down and have children. He would have none of that, he joined a band of Gypsies. And they got alone just fine, they taught him tricks and how to ride a horse bareback, how to make a strong wagon, how to steal without anyone seeing. But even that he got tired of, and he was off again. He loved the forest and he spent a lot of time in there, but again, he grew tired of it after a while and away he went.

They say that the longest time he ever stayed in one spot was when he found his love. Some say she melted out of a tree and fell into his arms, others that she was river nymph and that she seduced him with her beautiful voice. She had long tangled dark hair, and the prettiest green eyes, and she loved him from the depths of her wild heart.

But in the end he left her again, he stayed as long as he could. But he hated to be idle for long, and soon he was pacing back and forth and she had to let him go. Don't get me wrong, he loved her more then anything he had ever loved before, but he had to keep moving. She wouldn't go with him, she loved her forest to much, a life of travel was not for her.

She bore him a child, and it had her green eyes and dark hair, but it had his roving wild look in it's eyes. The child was a boy, and by the time he was fifteen he left his mother to seek his fortune and find his Father. But that's a different tale for another night. They say that his descendants live to this day, and that they all have their great great grandmother's hair. But that there's still that wild roving look in their eyes, and that you can't ever cage them in."

Braine fell silent, she took another drink of her ale. "What happened to the woman from the North?" Asked Garron, surprising me. He'd been so quiet I'd forgotten that he was there.
"Oh Margaret, they say that she was a cold hearted witch. But that wasn't true at all, she was brave and strong. But in the end she wasn't strong enough."
"What happened to her?" I asked quietly.
"Well since her fiancee had taken to the forest like a stray dog she looked for another husband. There was plenty of men who would've had her, she was very beautiful. But she wouldn't have them. Perhaps it would've been better if she had.

They say that one night he came, there was no moon, and the clouds were dark and swollen. She fell in love with him at first sight. He was quite handsome after all, he had steely grey eyes and hair dark as a raven's wing, much like you Master Garron. Oh he was kind to her in the beginning, but then things changed. He began to beat her, he was extremely cruel, and bit by bit she faded away. Soon she was nothing but skin and bones, but still she put up with the treatment he gave her.

Perhaps he had put a spell on her, there is no way to know. He was one of the mountain lords they say, came out of the mountain to join human kind. But he was a cruel horrible man, he cut down the forests, he built tall fortresses, he created laws that everyone had to follow if they didn't want to lose their heads. Eventually she had a child, and she died. The boy looked just like his father, and hated him with a passion.

But in the end the boy was just like his father, he was just as cruel, and cut down many more forests. A child of destruction. He later married, and had a child, and the boy hated him just as much as he himself had hated his father. A cycle of cruelty and hate, and so far no one has broken the pattern. They are always boys, and they always have those grey eyes and black hair, and they are often quite clever, and they never seem to find happiness.

It's a sad thing indeed. They say that one day the pattern will be broken, and things will be as they should. So we continue to do what we always do, we hope. I've heard tell that the Mountain Lord's line died out a long time ago, but I think that they are still out there, wreaking havoc and causing destruction. But I also think that they might just need a little light to help them on their way, and maybe they will find their happiness." Braine ended with a little flourish, but her piercing stare was directed at Garron.

I turned and looked at Garron, he had gone extremely pale. "Excuse me." He muttered, he got up and left. "I hope I didn't upset our young friend." Said Braine, but I caught some hidden meaning behind her words. "I'm sure he's just tired." I said softly. "Thank you for the story, it was lovely."
"Ah, but it hasn't ended yet. That's just the beginning, so, dear Fiona. How would You end it?"
"I honestly don't know, I would like a happy ending. But happy endings don't exist after all. It should be a realistic ending."
"Well said, well said, why don't you think on it?" And with that Braine turned to her audience and was soon distracted by some small children.

I got up and followed Garron, feeling distinctively shaken. He was standing outside in the moonlight, his fists clenched. "Are you alright?" I asked.
"Do you think I'll end up just like him?" He asked, his voice was shaking a little. I didn't need to ask to know who he was talking about. "Like in the story?" He turned to me, and his eyes held a shadow of terror and grief that reminded me of his father.
"Perhaps you can't change your blood, but anyone has the power to change their own destiny. I have faith that your made of stronger stuff then him. Besides, wasn't your Mother a good woman? I'm sure you still have a seed of her strength inside of you." I touched his shoulder lightly. "It's your choice who you turn out to be in the end, not blood, not your father, not even gods can change that."

"Thank you." He said quietly. I went back inside and lay down. Something about the old woman's story didn't seem quite right, it was like a maze of thorns full of hints and traps. Maybe, then it was up to me to untangle the thorns.

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems, just tell me what you think, I'm a young writer and haven't been writing for very long. But I would just like some feedback to tell me what I can improve and what is already good. Thank you~