A princess story begins

Over the years I have written a number of princess stories, often with a humorous bent to them and often because of random things involving a dear friend and her RP characters my own little Fae character nicknamed The Knight and The Rogue. Well she has again inspired a new princess tale, so I thought I would share what I have written already (in all it’s raw unedited glory). Mainly because Angie told me to….

The princess woke before the sun had begun to pour its light across the darkness of the moonless night. Her hair was mattered and stuck with the leaves that had been her pillow through the night as she slept in the space between the roots of the kindly old oak who had given her the shelter of his canopy. Her body ached for having slept in such a way, not at all like the soft mattress and pillows it was used to resting upon. But there had been nothing else for it in the wake of the princess’s escape. That she had been running was clear, but from what remained the question. Hazy memories circled her head when she tried to remember. It made her head ache as the disjointed images swirled.

She saw a beautiful woman laughing and in that laugh was madness and malice. For all the fairness of her face there was something ugly about her.

There was a man with a blade that caught the light as it thrust and returned to sight dulled by blood. The princess touched her side gingerly and whimpered at the pain.

Pushing the tatters of her dress aside she found the wound covered and on closer inspection already healing. Someone had tended the wound and time enough had passed that it was healing. But how much time had passed and who had the faces been and why should they hurt her?

“The princess bleeds like any other wench, let us see what else she does as one.” The words and voice rose in her mind unbidden but there was no image just the words and the fear they carried even in memory. This all was why she was running but it was a lacking explanation for still she did not know who these people were the sought to bring her pain, nor did she know why they did such things. How had she wronged them to turn them to such vile acts? And what of the rest of her life? 
Fractured memories remained in her mind with no context of time or what might be dream and what reality. 
Carriage rides and fights, dragons and dolls, faces and feelings all swirled in her mind as a maelstrom of confusion and the princess felt overwhelmed to the point of tears by it all. 
‘”We do not show the weakness of tears even when we are alone.” 
Another memory rose and the princess thought she knew the face worn by the man who sat her on his knee and she wished to call him uncle. The tears she was not to show she thought with some surety that they were for her parents who had been cruelly taken from her and the people. The tragic events were still denied her mind but she knew it still to be true. 

All these thoughts crossed her mind as she sat in the dirt at the base of the kind old tree and she knew she must rise from her spot and continue her flight. She could hear nothing and see nothing yet she knew danger remained behind her, seeking her for further pain and humiliation.

 

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