Rescue The King

Part 3

Frustration.

Pure and simple.

Rue wasn't a natural problem solver. She'd spent the majority of her life being treated like she was in fact the problem with all things and thus having no recourse to solve that problem, she'd naturally avoided it.

Rue's usual response to excessive situations was panic or force. Unfortunately the nuances and responsibility of being a ruler meant that she'd have to acquire a new skill set.

So she very kindly did not behead the royal aides who all uselessly flustered about and panicked meaninglessly over what to do and how to deal with these unfortunate circumstances. It was a close call though, her fingers itched to make them shut up by any means necessary because their incompetence was delaying her ability to rescue her husband.

With the eloquence and tact that she had learned from being a part of being a queen for quite a few years now, she delicately but firmly explained to them the state of things and how they were to behave until she returned.

If her eyes promised violence if they failed her, who could blame the woman? It was a stressful day and she was doing her best under the circumstances.

The first step to rescuing her husband would be to make it to the dragon's lair which, predictably, was on a far mountain peak and well out of her kingdom. She retrieved a horse, some supplies, the reluctantly obedient sword, and her dwindling patience before riding off towards those dangerous mountain peaks.

It had been smooth riding when she left the citadel and throughout the surrounding villages, no one even paid her all that much mind. Even if they recognized her at a glance they would doubt their eyes that the queen was riding off like this without even escort knights.

She'd considered bringing them, she really had, but had decided that ultimately they would slow her down. Besides, the dragon's transparent plan meant that they would probably attack while the kingdom was 'defenseless' and thus it was important to keep the knights here to protect the citizens.

It was only when she was well into the surrounding wilderness that things got a little hairy.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

They'd tripped her horse. Rue had tumbled to the ground and now these idiot bandits had the ingenuity to taunt her.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing, traveling all alone?"

What a pathetic cliche. Drosselmeyer was losing his touch. Rue rolled her eyes and began to stand up from the mud.

The tip of a sword stopped her, resting against her neck.

Ah, even that pathetic bastard Fakir was more intimidating with a sword than these fools. Rue let out a long sigh.

"You shouldn't be so hasty, you know." He brushed a hair out of her face and smiled at her softly. "It's okay to take things slowly, I'm always going to be right here."

Rue closed her eyes, leaning into his touch and letting his warmth envelop her. "I'll try. I'm just not a naturally patient person."

He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers and pecking her lips softly. "I know. I love that about you too. But I don't want to see you hurt and I worry that when you rush, you might get hurt..."

How sweet was this concern? How long had she wanted something like this in her life? How could she have ever rejected this compassion? She hadn't realized how truly valuable it was until she'd experienced it and now she didn't know how she could possibly live without it.

"I promise, Mytho. I won't get hurt rushing."

That didn't mean that she wouldn't rush things, here and there.

Rue smiled dangerously at the bastards, nudging the sword away and elegantly coming to her feet with the grace of a ballerina.

The black swan of the story, the villainess who darkened the lives of those she hated, the elegant ballerina who would never accept this indignity.

Rue had learned to embrace all of herself. The good and the bad. She'd learned how to be at peace with the parts of her that were darker and the foster those that were lighter.

She'd learned to harness the menace inside of her.

"I'm afraid I don't have time for any of you." Her voice was as cold as ice as she stared down the unnerved bandit who sensed something was becoming very wrong, very quickly. "So I'll have to be a bit rough."

The others hadn't quite caught on yet and they were approaching with the sinister air of a predator approaching prey. Chuckles along the lines of 'we'll see how rough we can be, girlie' and 'it's almost cute that she thinks she'll live' were alive in the air.

Rue didn't pay them very much mind. With the practiced elegance she had gained through years and years of practice, she moved into the first movement of her dance.

The sword fit neatly in her hands and swung with effortless ease.

A fact about ballerinas that ought to be obvious to anyone with even fairly rudimentary deduction skills was that their physical strength was above average. Balancing en pointe while lifting a whole other human above your head wasn't a feat that could be gained without significant physical strength.

Another idea that had never seemed to caught on was the balance, speed, and precision required to master the art and become a true prima ballerina.

If one were to, say, own an enchanted blade while they danced smoothly quite literally through any opposition, there wouldn't be much but blood and screams left in her wake.

Rue wiped the troublesome splatter from her cheek and checked up on her horse. The beast was startled but mostly uninjured. "...they sprained his ankle." The sword stabbed downwards into a twitching bandit who ought to have known better than to move.

It was going to delay her arrival on the mountain.

"How inconvenient." The bandits didn't have any horses for her to steal so she swung herself atop the injured horse with a frown.

She made sure to have the creature trample their corpses as they continued.

The horse wouldn't be able to gallop anymore but its walking speed was still faster than Rue's. Besides, she wouldn't meaninglessly drain her stamina on the way.

"...I'm coming, Mytho." She pet the horse soothingly and glared at the mountain. "...and then, you're going to explain yourself."

Far away, seated in a dank cave and awaiting his rescue, the brave and kind king of the kingdom felt a shiver run down his spine.

Ah, his lovely wife was definitely on her way.