Bridge and Dagger
  • Reads 31
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 15m
  • Reads 31
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 9
  • Time 1h 15m
Ongoing, First published Aug 02, 2020
Girl goes to ball.  Girl meets prince. They fall in love and live happily ever after.  Right?
Anastasia knows that doesn't happen in real life.  Or does it?

Anastasia is just a regular girl from the village.  She is the daughter of a seamstress and a blacksmith, who helps both her parents and loves to swordfight in secret with her father.  But when her mother is tasked with getting the queen mother ready for a ball, she catches the eye of young King Kyle.  From that moment on, Anastasia's life is never the same. But not in the way you expect. 

Meanwhile, Kalley has never felt like she has fit in.  She lives with her father under the bridge with all the other trolls, but she is never allowed to join them when the humans try to cross.  Desperately wanting answers, Kalley sneaks out to see what all the fuss is about.  What she finds is more than she ever expected.
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In the final days of autumn, a young princess climbs her favourite tree clutching a folded star of paper to her aching heart. Contained within its crisp lines are recountings of her dreams and darings... and a plea that she might, at last, be welcomed home. With a kiss for luck, she tosses her star to the southbound winds, and stumbles her way to a crumbling cottage in the deep woods. Years pass and the constellations spin, her pleas have gone unanswered. The princess grows, and her uncertainties are buried beneath the gentle earth of spurned hopes. It is now, when she has almost forgotten how to wish on morning stars, that an invitation of smoke and dream light arrives, carried on horseback by soldiers of a different kingdom; the Dark Moon Ball might prove her salvation. She does not yet know that love is an exquisite, wretched thing and that wishes are fickle as wisp light. She does not yet know that paths of magic have their own sense of poetry, and walking them presses footprints into the deepest sands of self, remaining even as the stars and seasons turn. She does not yet know that home is where you keep your north star.