The throne room looked empty. Valerie clutched the hilt of her sword as she padded in, head whipping about in her search for Darren. All she saw were the same marble columns and the same windows, now filled with ice. She shivered, watching her breath puff out in front of her. The unnatural cold of the room oddly gave her hope. She couldn’t imagine the godmother wasting magic freezing a room where something important wasn’t. She prayed that Darren was the important thing there.
Miette and Isaac flanked her, both also staring around as they slowly made their way towards the dais. They were halfway across the room when Valerie grabbed the arms of the other two, stopping them from walking past. They looked at her and she pointed.
In front of them, one on either side of the door that led to the antechamber Valerie had waited for her introduction in, were two figures in white. Their heads were bowed and each one held a sword in two hands, point just touching the floor. Their stillness made them look like they were frozen solid.
Another couple of steps and it became clear that one of them was taller than the other. A few more and they could see that the one on the left was holding a huge broadsword. The last handful of steps brought them within forty metres of the figures, and let them know they weren’t dead.
Two heads snapped upwards in unison, faces that were nothing more than emotionless masks staring at them. All three of them choked as they met the too-familiar gazes. Lifting their weapons into offensives stances were Lyel and Erramun.
Valerie hesitated, her hand on her sword’s hilt. With them standing there, it seemed even more likely that Darren was behind the door and she wanted him back. On the other hand, she didn’t want to hurt either of them. Thankfully for her, Miette and Isaac made the decision for her.
Running past her, they separated, Isaac heading for Erramun and Miette for Lyel. “Don’t stop Val! We’ll handle them. Get Darren!” Isaac called.
She opened her mouth then snapped it shut and nodded, running towards the door.
Behind her, Miette had thrown both arms around Lyel neck and was wrapping her legs around his waist for good measure. He fought to move his arms into a position where he could stab her and she fought to remain on him. When she had an opening, Miette leaned in and pressed her lips against Lyel’s.
When his mask didn’t even flicker a little growl came from the back of her throat as she blinked away tears. “You will wake up, Lyel. If it takes me scratching your eyes out then so be it! I did not fight bandits, free knights, call in Enax, and ride a dragon to be put off now.”
He was still fighting to get his arms and sword free and she was beginning to lose, more and more of his arm slipping out from under her. She switched tactics, throwing her body weight against him, making him fall backwards, her still on top. They slid several inches on the polished, and icy, floor.
Her heart pounding and adrenaline pumping through her, Miette’s mind raced. She knew she couldn’t fight Lyel long, not when she had no real weapons training and when he had no apparent problem with hurting her. She tried thinking about what the others would do but most of it seemed impossible for her until she thought of her oldest friend.
Taking a deep breath, this was her all or nothing gamble, she released Lyel and yanked the medallion off of her own neck. Twisting out of the way of the blow her fiancé sent at her, she darted in behind him, dropping the necklace over his head. Then she leapt back and watched him intently, praying for it to work.
She felt her heart rise when he froze, whole body gone rigid. She slipped a few steps closer, only stopping when he swung his blade between them, his free hand going to his forehead. When he lowered his face, she slipped around it and again wrapped her arms around his neck. When his head jerked up, she kissed him, this time far more possessively. He went still again and she pulled back, glaring at him. “You are mine and if you do not come back to me I shall hurt you badly.”
He blinked several times. “Mi-?”
She screeched, throwing her body on him again, and like before, they fell to the ground. With tears and choked back sobs, she kissed him a third time, pressing her body against his. A second later she heard the clatter of his sword falling and his arms were wrapped around her as he kissed her back.
Only the sound of metal skittering across the ground made her pull away. She turned to where Isaac was grappling with Erramun and called, “Put your medallion on him. It will help. I believe it weakens the spell.”
All she heard was a grunt in reply. Isaac had tackled Err, diving at his stomach with both arms outstretched. In the first few moments of entanglement, he’d concentrated on making Erramun drop his sword, knowing his only hope of besting him was in hand-to-hand combat. So they had rolled across the floor until a lucky kick by Isaac had sent Err’s sword flying across the ground. That’s when he heard Miette’s yell.
He grunted a reply, glad she and Lyel were at least safe, and focused his attention on pinning Erramun to the floor. It wasn’t easy, especially since they’d been exchanging lessons with each other almost since they’d arrived. When he bucked up, trying to use a twist that Isaac had taught him, the other man snapped “Oh no you don’t. This is for your own good.”
Holding on to both his forearms, pressing them into the floor, he slammed his head into Err’s forehead. His head slammed backwards, hitting the stone floor. Isaac tried not to wince as he ripped his medallion off and shoved it around the dazed man’s neck. Then he wrapped his legs around Erramun’s and his arms around his arms, holding him there in case it didn’t work.
When Err didn’t move after a minute, Isaac raised his head from the bodyguard’s chest and stared at him. He was blinking rapidly but not trying to throw him off. “I’m going to let you go now but if you freak out and try to kill me or anyone else who doesn’t deserve it, I will make you regret it,” he said, slowly unwinding himself.
When Erramun didn’t move, or do anything but blink, Isaac poked his cheek. “Oi. Wake up.”
That got him to turn his head. He stared at Isaac for a long moment, then whispered “Isaac? But you are-”
Err had not time to brace himself before Isaac punched his shoulder, hard. “That’s for going along with Darren’s retarded plan and getting yourself turned into a fucking puppet! You sonovabitch!” He snapped, dragging him up by his shirt, holding him close to his own face where his eyes glowed with anger. “So help me, if you ever, ever scare me like that again I’ll kill you myself.”
Then, while Erramun was still staring at him with wide eyes, he kissed him hard on the lips.
Note: Am I mean enough to leave you there while I spend the weekend at a soccer tournament? Yes, yes I am. I'll have new chapters on Monday, but I won't be on a computer all weekend so nothing until then
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Cinderella vs. Happily Ever After
FantasyValerie's pissed. The palace has fallen and there's an army between her and Darren. She only has one choice: raise an army of her own so she can rescue Darren. So she can kill him herself for drugging her. This time it's Cinderella to the rescue