Stealing a Princess (A Rise of the Guardians Fanfiction)

In Your Arms

Scrambling out of her seat, Tooth flew towards North in a fit of panic. Her chair scraped against the floor as it fell, though she paid it no mind, as she was wholly concentrated on the. convulsing man. How could this happen? Frantically wetting a napkin and passing it to her mother who was trying desperately to get a response out of North, she searched the room for anything, anything, that could help her save her beloved Uncle.

"Call for the doctor!" A familiar voice ripped through the fog of panic that had settled in her head, muffling the sounds of everything around her and making her actions sluggish. Beyond her range of vision, the door was flung open; resulting in a harsh bang that quieted the people around her.

Loud footsteps and a thundering, authoritative voice warned her of her father's presence in the room. His very being radiated power and authority, making the hush that had fallen throughout the room even more pronounced. One of the braver maids cautiously spoke in a meek voice, "Sir, King North has been poisoned." She curtsied awkwardly, quivering slightly out of fear.

It was understandable, really. Normally, the King sported a mask of indifference if not polite friendliness; at the moment, he looked downright furious. Never before had the poor maid ever seen her King so enraged, and the servants shrank back from him as the tall man stepped towards where his old friend lay, foaming at the mouth.

Tooth panicked again when she saw that North's eyes were rolled back, exposing the whites, and spit dribbled and foamed at his lips as he continued writhing. Her mother struggled to pin his arms down and prevent him from hurting himself further; but to no avail, as King North was over twice her size.

The sight of him, sprawled out on the cold marble floor, brought tears to her eyes, though she could not afford to cry right now. She had to save him, and with her extensive knowledge of medicines, she should be able to. All those hours of reading countless books on the subject were all for naught, as all thoughts of an antidote or a cure to this mysterious poison flew out of her head, fluttering away like a swarm of small, tiny butterflies.

Butterflies with wings of paper, filled with words and memorized sentences that could hold the key to saving North's life.

So concentrated she was on the trying to find a way to help large man before her that she did not feel the many hands on her shoulders, her arms, trying to comfort her and get her to calm down. She did not feel her mother trying to slow her gasping breathes, did not notice another man approaching behind her, so she was unprepared when the man cleared his throat and tapped her shoulder for her attention.

Whirling around, she saw her most hated enemy, the person she least wanted to see at the moment.

Pitchiner Black.

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Tooth's expression was fraught with worry as she paced around, doing all she could to not bang on the door in front of her. She had been told to stay out of the doctor's room, instead being forced to sit in the waiting area, of all places. While North could be dead - dead! - in the next room over.

How dare they? She recalled the events of a couple hours ago, fists clenching and unclenching in an attempt to restrain herself from unleashing the full force of her rage onto a nearby object. Her jaw grinding, her blood boiled as she remembered the oil-slick voice of her suitor, telling her to move aside.

"Move aside? Move aside? Sir Pitch, I do not think you know what you are saying! King North needs help immediately!" Tooth raised her voice, directing her next words to the surrounding servants. "Where is that doctor? Someone go get the doctor and tell him to hurry up!"

North's condition had worsened, his large chest only rising and falling as he breathed at irregular intervals. Her mother's face was blotchy; cheeks red, sweat streaming down her neck as she tried to force a cup of water into North's un-opening mouth.