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Firewalk with Me (Madam Mim x EvelynWillows)

The king's eyes softened when Althea referred to herself as a troll. He knew that it would be frightening no matter who she was to marry, but Kind Alastair was easily Duke Highchester's elder. The lady was a young, bright bloom just reaching womanhood; she would not be relishing the idea of bedding a man as old as he.

Tables were brought out and benches set as the king and his future bride stood. He turned to Althea and motioned for her to sit in the smaller throne next to his. "It gets more real every day, does it not?" He smiled and waited patiently as servants brought a narrow, private table up to the pedestal for the royal couple. Everyone else was lined up in long tables that all pointed towards the throne, so that no one had to have their back to the king. Alastair released her hand once the table was set. "I see your brother, the commander of the Third Wave. But where is his second in command, my dear? I was quite looking forward to seeing Sir Jacques again."
 
Althea smiled a little, very self-conscious. "I wouldn't know, sire; this is the first day." She giggled nervously and cleared her throat delicately. He was kind, at least, and seemed understanding enough. Many other kings would have deluded themselves into thinking their young bride wanted to marry them, and would live them instantly.

Althea sat gracefully and let the king hold her hand gently. She sat back, trying to keep out of the servents' ways as they set everything up. Then King Alastair asked about Jacques. What should she say? That his daughter had hinted that he had arrived last night? That he was dead?

"I...there was a terrible fire last night at Perigod, Sire," she said softly, casting her eyes towards her lap. "Sir Jacques was in the dungeons, where the fire stated...and wasn't found after." She covered her mouth in her free hand as tears tried to fight their way out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "He was...a very dear friend to me.
 
"I'm sorry," King Alastair said. He covered her hand with his other. "In the short time I knew him he made quite the impression on me. This..." he waved his hand across the room to indicate the great hall. Flags from all the realm, including those of Highchester and the lesser dukedoms had been hung on the walls. "This was all possible because of our chance meeting on the battlefield. But, as you may know, chance has nothing to do with it. Nothing, my dear, happens 'by accident'."

A handsome couple approached the thrones and they bowed and curtsied. She was a woman in her early thirties, dressed respectably in a form-fitting dress maroon dress. She had dark brown hair and intense eyes, like one who had seen much loss in her life. Her husband was a man in his late thirties or early forties. He, too, was dressed in maroon trim and seemed to be a fit, slim man suited for books and numbers.

"May I present my eldest daughter, Princess Marian, Lady of Orin, and her husband Thomas Sinclair, the Earl of Orin." The king smiled at his daughter and inclined his head as she curtsied.

"We are honored to have you here," the earl said to Althea. "Perhaps later we may entreat you to tea with us?"

His wife smiled and nodded. She looked to her husband and made a short gesture with her hands as if talking to him.

"Ah, yes. Of course." He turned back to Althea. "After you've had the opportunity to rest, Princess."
 
Althea nodded. "I know this very well," she said quietly. "Truly it's him I credit with this lasting peace, though my father was the one to negotiate specifics with you. You made quite an impression on him as well; he admired you very much." She smiled weakly, wishing her beloved alive but at the same time barely daring to even hope that was what the princess had been hinting at.

When the Earl and Lady of Orrin approached, Althea bowed her head graciously. She smiled as they invited her to tea and nodded.

"Of course, Your Graces. It would absolutely be my honor." She caught the hand gesture and frowned a tiny bit, but didn't say anything. "It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you both." So this was to be another stepdaughter, this one old enough to be her mother.
 
They moved away and the king inclined his head closer to Althea. "My dear daughter has been mute since she witnessed her mother and younger brother's murder. She was three." He looked at his future bride and smiled sadly. "I thank the gods every day that she was spared."

Another couple approached and bowed towards the throne. The woman was one Althea recognized, though she was dressed much nicer than before; Princess Olivia. The man at her side was still dressed in battle clothes and looked like he had just dismounted his war horse moments before. In fact, he had, but he thought it the lesser sin to show up dirty than to show up late at such an important occasion.

"And here are my wayward twins, Prince Owen and Princess Olivia."

"My apologies Father," Prince Owen said. He looked at Lady Althea. "Mother. Our squadron ran into a little problem on the eastern ridges."
 
Althea frowned and it was her turn to place her hand over her betrothed's. "I'm sorry, Sire," she said quietly. "You clearly love your family very much; I cannot imagine such a devastating loss."

She regained a pleasant look when out of the corner of her eye she caught someone heading their way. When she turned, she was surprised to see Princess Olivia dressed more appropriaty for a lady, though she supposed she shouldn't have been. She was caught quite off-guard when Prince Owen called her "mother." It was surreal, coming from a man who appeared to be very near her brother's age, if not slightly older.

"Princess Olivia and I have met." She smiled politely. "It's good to see you again so soon, Princess. And to meet you, Prince Owen," she added, looking at the handsome prince. Nothing compared to her Jacques of course, but if she weren't so desperately and completely in love she might have developed a slight crush on her stepson. As it was, however, every man was but a dwarf in the shadow of her love. She leaned in slightly and smiled at him. "But between us," she whispered, "it's perfectly acceptable to not call me 'mother.' Promise." She leaned back again and settled back on the throne.

As she looked over Owen, however, Althea grew immeasurably sad. She had seen her son as uncontested heir to the throne. The new princess hadn't even realized there might be another prince with claim, which could only mean one thing. This man before her, handsome and full of life and in his prime, was doomed to die before his time. By her son's hand or in battle, she didn't know, but she knew that he hadn't been a threat to her son's right to the kingdom. Her eyes were sad as she searched him for signs of illness or injury.

"Do please be careful when you're out with your men, Prince Owen," she said softly. "We can't have something happening to the heir to the kingdom." Her tone didn't carry threat or malice, but genuine worry and sorrow. If Owen lived, perhaps he could join forces with Jacques and their son to stop Edward and his son.
 
The king inclined his head as he regarded his son. Prince Owen had been against the marriage from the start, but the king reminded him that as long as he remained unmarried there was no other recourse for the king but to sire another son. Prince Owen had been prone to visions, though, and he had told his father that he preferred no wife and child to having them to love and then losing them. Perhaps the loss of Queen Annabelle had more far-reaching consequences than he realized.

"Thank you," the prince had replied. He and his sister left then, and from then until the end of dinner the King and Althea were constantly greeting people as they trickled up to meet their future queen. In some of the eyes she saw distrust, and in others there was pure dislike. In a few she saw hope, and one old couple looked at her and smiled in a way that told her that they were glad their king had finally entertained the idea of another wife. Finally the dinner came to a close and Lady Roberta approached the two.

"My dear Alastair, would you be so kind as to allow me to walk your betrothed back to her quarters? She has had, as you well know, a trying trip." She curtsied and smiled even as others waited to greet Althea. The night had, indeed, grown into the early morning.

King Alastair looked at his bride-to-be and searched her eyes. "I apologize my dear; how remiss of me. Please, do go find your rest. I'll look forward to seeing you in the morning." He rose to his feet and kissed her hand. "It was a pleasure to have you at my side."
 
Althea wished she could be left to eat in peace, but of course such was not the fate of a new princess. She smiled courteously to all, even those who clearly didn't like or trust her. It gave her hope that there were people who did seem glad she was their queen, though.

It was only when Lady Roberta approached that Althea realized how late the hour had grown. She smiled cordially at the king and inclined her head when he kissed her hand before standing. She gave the king's hand a gentle squeeze and dipped a small curtsy.

"I have enjoyed my first evening at Ellington immensely, Your Highness," she said quietly. "I hope tomorrow we might have some time in private? I would like for us to talk, to get to know one another."

Once she had received his answer she smiled demurely and followed Lady Roberta into the hall. Once out of sight of the others, Althea released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding all night. Formal occasions, where impeccable posture was necessary, always made her suck her tummy in, though the difference was barely noticeable. She let it out and slouched, sighing in relief. After a few moments she looked at her new lady-in-waiting.

"Forgive me, Lady Roberta, but I promised the princess a private audience after dinner. The hour is late, but it seemed dreadfully important." In truth, Althea wanted desperately to get to the bottom of this mystery surrounding Jacques. She could think of little else all night, and she was beside herself with a desire to see him.
 
"I would be honored," the king replied. "Until tomorrow then." He watched her leave the hall, and a few minutes later he left as well. The night had been trying for the king in more ways than one. He wanted nothing more than to squash the damned Duke Perigod and all his offspring, but he had been patient for over twenty years and would be for another twenty if it was required.

Lady Roberta noted the princess' tension. "No reason to fret, Princess Althea. Twas Princess Olivia who sent me to rescue you." She chuckled. "Everyone wants to make a good first impression on you, but it's unlikely that you'd remember a fifth of those you met tonight. The fools; nobility runs in that direction though doesn't it? And I can say that; I'm a noblewoman myself." She smiled. "Would you like to change into less constricting attire for your walk with the Princess? Or at least trade your shoes in for slippers."
 
"Oh, thank goodness!" She put her hand on her forehead and slouched a little more. "No, no thank you. I um...I'm rather anxious you see. If my feet get sore I'll simply take off my shoes."

Althea followed Lady Roberta through the hallways. Already she had forgotten the names of most nobles outside the royal family. She tried to concentrate on remembering them to distract herself from the anxious, fluttery feeling in her chest but it was no good. She was simply too nervous and excited.

"Thank you for having me rescued, Your Highness," Althea said graciously once they met up and Lady Roberta had gone. "I believe there was a deeper purpose to this meeting, and am anxious to discover it. I beg of you, please don't leave me in suspense for much longer. I've been so anxious all night."
 
Princess Olivia smiled and took Althea by the hand. "Don't worry, it will all be well." She led her future step-mother through the cold gardens to a small shack nearly hidden there in the back. The thatched roof was still covered in snow but a small trail of smoke climbed into the heavens. Olivia knocked but no one answered. "Curious..." she tried the door knob and it opened to reveal a small but warm abode. "Alex?"

"That's odd. The candle's still going so he can't have been gone long. Why don't we check the stables?" She closed the door behind them and motioned to the right. In the large stables several lamps were burning. Groomsmen and stable boys were working late into the night, tending to the many horses and carts that were brought by the suitors. Althea's horse Maggie, and the others that came with her, including Laddie, were being tended as well. Laddie's groomer seemed to have him so relaxed that he was dozing even as his feet were being looked at.

"There," Princess Olivia said, pointing towards the blondish man tending to Althea's horses. "There he is. Alex!"

At the sound of his name being called the man stilled. He turned to look at his caller and grew even stiller. Though he was clean shaven and his hair short and lighter, it was Jacques' eyes that looked back at Althea.
 
Althea's heart pounded as they drew closer to the thatched shack. She swore Princess Olivia could hear it as she opened the door, it was pounding so loudly. When the door swung in to reveal nobody home, the princess almost groaned. She had to do it all over again, and maintain the appearance of being unconcerned with the whereabouts of the new gardener.

Of course he was in the stables. He would want to make sure Laddie was treated well. When "Alex" turned around, Althea's breath caught and her knees buckled. She wanted to run to her love, to throw her arms around him and cry into his chest with relief. Instead she took a deep breath, never breaking eye contact with Jacques as she strode forward to meet him.

"I very pleased to meet you, Alex," she said, amazed at how calm she sounded on the outside in comparison to her insides flurrying about. She held her hand out to him. "I am La--er, Princess Althea. Princess Olivia was very anxious for me to meet you; obviously you made a very good impression already. Won't you give me a tour of the gardens? I do hope you keep forget-me-nots. They're quite a beautiful flower." She smiled as she inquired after the token she had given him, a handkerchief with embroidered forget-me-nots he had worn around his wrist.
 
Jacques broke his gaze on Althea to look at Olivia. He frowned slightly. The young Princess Knight simply smiled and began to leave, her lips quirked in amusement.

"Your Highness," He took Althea's hand and brought it to his lips, though he merely touched them without a kiss. "I don't know how I could have made a good impression. I merely arrived shortly after their last gardener died. I believe his heart failed him. Nonetheless..." he shook his head. "It is the middle of winter and I do not know if anything at all grows in this garden. I'm sorry. I cannot help you."

He released her hand and took a step back. But welcome to Ellington, Your Highness. I understand you have a very fortuitous marriage before you."
 
Althea felt sick. What had happened? What had she done to lose his love? He no longer wore her token and wouldn't tell her he loved her; had she just been a game? A bit of post-war sport untouchable now that she had arrived to her doom? Tears quivered in her eyes and she had to take a few moments to compose herself.

"Won't you--" She stopped and cleared her throat, swallowing a few times and wishing her mouth hadn't gone so dry. "Won't you please show me anyway, Alex? My guide seems to have left me and I fear the dark night. Besides, I'm sure you'll find something grows in our gardens, even now. And if it doesn't...well, we'll just see what a little magic can do, won't we?" She smiled congenially, but it was forced. She had to swallow hard again as tears threatened to spill over.

"Please, at least humor me, Alex," she said quietly, tears breaking her voice and made it quiver. "I do so love a beautiful garden, you know."

Althea was begging Jacques, pleading him. She loved him still and wished to talk to him, to see what was wrong. Again she found herself wanting to throw herself upon him, and she was just a little bit farther from restraint than was wise. Her eyes pleaded with his as she twisted her gown up in her hands nervously.
 
"Of course, Your Highness." He closed the door to Laddie's stall and pulled a heavy wool cloak off the partition. After a slight hesitation he put it around Althea's shoulders. "The night is cold, Your Highness. I don't want you to fall ill." He could smell her hair and the soft warmth of her skin. It nearly made him swoon with desire for her.

Once they were out of the stables and walking together in the dark garden he tried to find the words to say something, anything, to the woman he loved. "Althea...I should explain to you. I..." He glanced around and then pulled the hood up over her head. "Let's speak privately, in the cabin." He wanted desperately to hold her and comfort her, but he knew that she had been with Edward. He remembered all too well the words he had heard her say to her brother.

"Oh darling please don't, you know how much I want you inside me, but we can't. Not yet."

He found the cottage in the dark and lead her inside. Bolting the door shut he turned to tell her what he knew he must...
 
Althea breathed a sigh of relief when he agreed to walk with her. She drew the wool around her shoulders and followed him through the snow. She was about to insist that he had nothing to explain, but he suggested they speak in the cabin and she nodded quietly.

As soon as the bolt had been thrown and Jacques turned around, Althea threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and sobbing into his chest. Tears of joy that he was alive followed tears of pain at how he had treated her, and on in an endless cycle.

"Jacques my love!" the princess cried, "Oh darling thank God you're safe! It's been such a horrible few days! Once I left your father's study, Edward came to me to tell me of your arrest. He said he'd get you off the gallows if I..." She shuddered and shook her head vigorously. "Then I nearly got it extra for crying out your name...and Oh Gods the fire! Jacques...you were dead..."

Althea gradually slowed down, hyperventilating quietly into his chest. She didn't let go when she looked up at him, tears still swimming in her big blue eyes as she hugged his waist, looking for all the world like that little tomboy he'd left seven years ago.

"Please, Jacques," she said quietly, voice still shaking and watery. "Any blind man could see how much I love you. Please tell me what I've done to lose your love. Whatever it was, I swear it wasn't intentional. I just...why won't you wear my token, Jacques...?" Althea's voice started to crack, on the verge of sobs once again.
 
He held her while warring feelings of betrayal and love destroyed his soul. The pain from her apparent betrayal with her brother ached like a dagger. He hadn't been able to sleep or eat since he heard those words, and he felt a sense of impending doom hovering over his future. Dom Pierre's incessant chatter in his head didn't help either, but he was beginning to learn how to ignore the foppish page.

Jacques nearly wept at her pain and tears. He loved her completely, which made her betrayal that much more painful. "Althea I... I was outside your door. I heard," he swallowed and fought back the tears. "I heard you. You told him that you wanted him inside you but you couldn't. You called him your darling." His breathing was getting faster in his anguish. "Althea, I can't do this. It's enough that I love you out of turn but to know that you... and Edward? It makes sense now why you don't mind cuckolding the king. You... I'm sorry, Althie. I'll keep your secret but I can't do this anymore."

He began to push her away gently. "I can't be your Jacques anymore."
 
Althea's mouth dropped open slightly as she was pushed away. She had a hand on Jacques' arm for support, but as soon as he let go of her the princess's legs gave out and crumpled beneath her. She made no effort to get up off of the floor, head spinning as it was. Finally she looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks and a painful mixture of anger, betrayal, and devestation clear in her features.

"Jacques, how could you think that?" she demanded tearfully. "With my own brother?? I thought you said you understood the things I have to do to survive him!"

Althea had to take a few moments before she could talk again. So strong was her grief it had stolen her knowledge of all language as she tried to grasp the fact that Jacques was trying to leave her after all they'd been through. Sniffing, she looked up and tried to find the words to explain.

"He makes me say those things, Jacques," she said at last, her voice lower but no less emotional. "Edward...likes it when I talk like I want him, and if I don't I'm not just risking my life. He would kill you and Tess and Apollo first, and probably make me watch." She sniffed in and wiped impotently at her tears. "Whenever he makes me talk like that, I close my eyes and I pretend it's you. Did you not hear me say I cried out for you, not him? Jacques, I've never loved anyone except you. Ever. And it disgusts me that you would think that I would bed my own brother voluntarily before you or the king. Am I really so wanton?" Her chin trembled as she searched his eyes for the answer.

"Come search my memories, if you don't believe me," she offered. Althea reached up and grabbed Jacques' hand, pulling weakly to pursuade him to kneel on the floor with her. "You've seen before every abuse Edward's visited on me. See this one, too. If there's a way, you can even ask Apollo; he was there. Please...whatever you may think of me, you will always be my Jacques. Just know that all of Edward's abuse isn't my fault, isn't something that I wanted." She tugged more insistently at his hand. "Please, my love! Just look and see!"
 
Jacques sank to the floor next to Althea. He took her in his arms and held her as if she might disappear at any moment. "I don't want to search your memories to believe you, Althie. I want to believe you because I know you would never lie to me." He nestled his face against her head and shuddered. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sorry I scared you." He moved his hands over her back, weaving one hand through her hair and cupping her head towards himself. Then he turned her face and kissed her, slow and sweet on the cabin floor.

"I love you, Althea. But I'm going to kill your brother, I swear it. He's gone too far." He grimaced inwardly at his own hypocritical actions. Here he was angry at a rapist, yet he was in love with the king's bride. And...he had taken her virginity and then hid it. He was a thief and a double-crosser. The pain of his own actions burned at him.

He looked around at the little cabin and then back at Althea. "If only I were just a gardener and you my wife." He smiled sadly. "You can't let anyone know I'm still alive. I...swore to the king that I would remain as I am until he decides otherwise. I need to be faithful to him this time my love. He's done more for us than any other, and it kills me to know that I've taken your heart. The heart that should be his."
 
Althea relaxed in her lover's arms and wept in relief as he apologized. It was several moments before she could speak again, but before she could she kissed him warmly back, sliding her fingers through his cropped hair. It felt strange on him, but nice nonetheless.

"Then kill him, but make it look like an accident," Althea said quickly. "If it looked like anything else my father would take it as an act of war, and we can't risk that."

The princess hugged her knight as he wished they were just common people. If only.she had "died" in that fire with him, maybe they could have been. She wouldn't have minded scratching a living out of the soil or being a maid if she could be happy with her Jacques.

"Of course, my love," she said quickly. "Anything. Just let me visit you here and I'll be happy. My heart would have never belonged to the king anyway and he seems to know this." She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair then slid her palm across his smooth face. "I like this," she murmured with a small smile. "It's not as scratchy. Alex...you should have called yourself Jacob." She giggled and kissed him again, most of her tears gone by now. "So the king and Princess Olivia know. Anyone else? Oh Jacques, just please wear my token again! For me?"
 
Jacques finally smiled. "I didn't have the luxury of naming myself. The king gave named me when I arrived early this morning, and he told me that for all intents and purposed I had to put aside my life as Jacques de Perigod. I didn't know that I had supposedly died in that fire until news reached Ellington of what happened shortly before your arrival; I thought I'd be sought out as a fugitive when I escaped."

He drew his hand along the side of her face as if memorizing the way she looked. "I'll wear it again, my love. I took it off when I thought that you...when I was mistaken." He took a shuddering breath. "Althea, don't close your heart to the king. I think that you could love him if you tried. He's already won my loyalty several times over."

Jacques was reluctant to let her go. "As far as I know, Princess Olivia and her father are the only ones who know about me. And Dom Pierre. He's around here somewhere, so don't be shocked if you catch him wandering the halls. There are others too - you might become sensitive enough to see them given time and your unique insights." He caressed her cheek and then kissed her forehead. "We should sneak you back to the castle, my love. It would be difficult to explain why the future queen was caught in the gardener's shed on her first night home."

He smiled then. "Home. For better or worse, that is what this is for us now."
 
"Loyalty isn't the same as love," she protested softly, "and I don't want to love the king. I want to love you. I can see myself being his friend and the loyalty which comes with that...but you have my heart, Jacques. You always have and always will."

Althea closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against his hand as Jacques explained that there were a few ghosts roaming the castle, including the foppish page. She supposed she would be able to see and speak with him, but she didn't know about the others. If Edward could see him, hopefully Dom Pierre would know better than to say anything about her lord being alive still. At Jacques' suggestion, she sighed.

"You're right," she admitted. "We're just lucky it's late; there shouldn't be too many wandering eyes. If there are, I went for a walk on the grounds and got lost and you're helping me find my way back. But darling, a castle is just a way of keeping the rain out; home is where you are." The princess leaned forward and kissed her gardener-knight deeply, overwhelmed by love and gratitude that he still lived. At length she stood.

"Come on, then," she said with a sigh. "I'm sure you could give me a tour of the grounds tomorrow when I'm done with the king."
 
"I don't know the castle grounds," Jacques admitted, "but we can learn them together." He pulled on a light cloak since Althea had his heavy one and then walked with her back to her quarters. Once or twice they got turned the wrong way, but it seemed like neither of them minded the delay much. Once they were near her hallway in the castle Jacques hesitated.

"It's not likely I'm allowed in this area," he explained. "I'm...this wing is for nobility only." His smile was soft but filled with love. In a slightly louder voice he said "Glad to be of help, Princess. Obviously, once you've been here a while you'll learn your way around much better. Good night to you." He bowed and acted like the move was unfamiliar, but as he stood he gave her a small wink. Brisk footsteps were approaching them from another hallway and they would have to part ways soon.

A soft shadow shimmered nearly. Dom Pierre slowly materialized and gave Althea an elaborate bow. He grinned, then held his arm out towards her door as if to say "I'll escort you from here."

Jacques took a deep, shuddering breath. "Very well then. Welcome to Ellington Princess Althea."
 
"Goodnight, Alex," Althea returned with a smile, "and thank you for helping me back. Obviously it's going to take a few days for me to learn my way around." Not the smoothest way to slip it in, but she would have said the word "obviously" a hundred times in a row if it were up to that. "Thank you for your warm welcome." She inclined her head as one might to a commoner and turned to see Dom Pierre waiting to guide her.

The princess smiled and shook her head at the fop's exaggerated bow. Out of habit she reached out to take his arm, but her hand fell through. She flushed, hoping he wasn't sensitive about how incorporeal he was. With a mumbled apology she followed him to her room, walking quickly in case the hurried footsteps were Edward. Once the door was locked she leaned against it with a sigh.

"Thank you, Dom Pierre," she murmured to the ghost as she stepped further into the room. "Now turn around, please. I know it's nothing that interests you, but just do it on principle." She started to unlace her tight bodice with one hand and began to unbuckle her shoes with the other.
 
Dom Pierre's chuckled bubbled through the boundaries as he faded away, leaving Althea to her solitude.

Two set of clawed feet came scrambling around the corner of the outer room as Apollo heard his mistress' voice and hurried to greet her. His entire body wagged enthusiastically and he woofed happily at her return. He rolled over and then hopped to his feet, wagging his body faster.

No one bothered her that night, or the next morning. A trio of servants brought her a tray for breakfast and some tea and milk, as well as an invitation to have lunch in the garden with the king. Lady Roberta arrived soon thereafter and brought with her a servant bearing an armful of gifts wrapped in pretty papers and ribbons.

"It seems the duchys aren't wasting any time trying to win your favor, your highness. Behold; engagement gifts." Lady Roberta smiled and took a dainty seat to sit upon. "It's traditional to to send them thank you gifts in return, your highness. If you'd like I can catalogue the gifts for you and arrange for proper acknowledgements to be sent out." She smiled kindly. "Don't worry, no one expects you to personally pen all your letters by your own hand."
 
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