Glaw

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

August did look at her. With a self-satisfied smirk he locked his cool gaze on her stormy eyes, and he dared her to look away. Were all women of the otherworld this loud and defiant, wearing men's clothes and proud red hair, snapping at authority like a cornered tiger? Did the men wear dresses and walk with eyes downcast for fear of offending their fiery women? Hers was, fittingly, a backwards world.

"Oh, I am a thing of nightmares," he hissed through a grin. This woman was inexperienced with the rumors and the hearsay of his condemnable fall from grace -- she still had enough doubt of his monstrosity to call him a man. He would soon fix that. "You are only alive because your blood would have prevented us from returning. To kill in the otherworld is to shut the killer out of the kingdoms forever." He knew this only from the spoken rules of the mirror doors, taken as fact since before the Queen's betrayal. No one, to his knowledge, had ever killed in the otherworld. It wasn't a risk anyone was willing to take. He took a step closer and hissed: "We can, however, slice you into slow pieces while you're here in our world, without a single consequence."

The bloody-nosed guard seemed to take great pleasure in this idea; he grinned and bounced a little on his feet, the tip of his blade now resting eagerly on the soft flesh of Sam's throat. August gave him a dangerous look, and he stepped back away from Sam. "Tie her up."

The guard blinked in disbelief. "But Sir --!" Suddenly the guard was slammed back against the tree, the Marshal's hand clasped tight around his gasping throat.

"Were you about to object to a direct order?" the Marshal asked in a terrifyingly quiet voice, while the guard trembled under his grip. The guard only whimpered in response. After a moment, Marshal Derrick let go and stepped back, and the guard hurried to tie Sam's wrists tightly behind her back, his hands shaking.

As soon as the woman was secured, the Marshal dragged her roughly into the open and pinned her against his side, a dagger leveled against her throat. He peered up into the branches, and he spotted the cat staring down at them with big yellow eyes. The tree swayed in a cold breeze. "Turn yourself in," he called in a rough voice, "or I'll cut her to pieces until you do." He moved the dagger and rested the blade behind Sam's ear. "She doesn't really need her ears anyway, don't you think?"

Dorothea leaned down and meowed in distress. "Cut so much as a hair on her head and I'll have your eyes plucked from your skull!"

"A fair idea!" the Marshal called back with a grin, and he laid the tip of the dagger under Sam's eye.

Dorothea hissed, her hackles raised -- but she believed with all her heart that the Marshal wouldn't hesitate to carry out his threat, that she would be forced to watch Sam be hacked to a screaming bloody pulp as long as she put off the inevitable. Her claws dug into the wood. Finally she dropped submissively to a lower branch, forced to begin her descent.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

"They'll kill you at once!" Dorothea squeaked, squirming in Sam's grip in a desperate furry effort to return to her shoulders, to urge the girl onward. "You can't simply give up! You're of no use to them, you're not even supposed to exist here, they only see you as a burden and a loose end." She scrambled onto the branch and crouched there, wide-eyed, her head lowered and tail still, staring at the otherworld girl with horror and disbelief. Dorothea had drawn the Marshal straight into Sam's own home -- the one place that should have been safe. Sam, who had taken her in in her lowest hour, cared for her though she was a stranger. In return, Dorothea had thrown her into the worst kind of danger -- she had cut her life so, so short. The clink of armor was getting closer. Sam couldn't outrun them, Dorothea knew that -- and there was nowhere at all to hide, at least not for long. For once in her life, the princess had no idea what to do, and she wished with all her heart that Liam were here.

There was no time left. Neither of them would have a chance if they both were caught -- at least if Dorothea were free, she could help Sam. It was a terrible decision. "You're my responsibility," she said in a voice low like a promise, her ears flattened against her skull. Just as the Marshal spotted them, Dorothea spun around and leaped to a higher smooth branch in the bone-cold tree. She turned, coiled her hind legs, and bounded still higher -- and higher -- her tail swinging.

The Marshal slowed, wading noisily through a bed of fallen leaves, branches snapping under his feet. His scowling face was upturned, watching that dark ball of fur as it shimmied up into the highest branches and curled there, small and cold and trapped.

His guards rushed past him at a determined pace, fierce to prove themselves to the Queen, and they drew their swords and leveled them at Sam's throat, one on either side of her, daring her to so much as scratch her nose. The one with the broken nose (dripping blood into his mouth) was grinning murkily at her, his head tipped and disheveled, shifting from one foot to the other as if deciding the perfect moment to lop her head from her shoulders. "Sir," he called to the Marshal, without taking his self-satisfied eyes off of Sam. "This one is just in the way, isn't she? I mean --" The tip of his sword ticked toward Sam's throat. "She's a liability as long as she's alive."

The Marshal took his eyes off the cat, and he peered hard at Sam, considering carefully what was to be done with her.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

Brilliant! And I sort of accidentally named the stepsister Raquelle, if that's cool. ^^;

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

For a moment, the Marshal stood very still, his expression and his eyes unwavering, while he composed himself. Even a flicker of relief at the Queen's departure could mean the beginning of his downfall. He turned a cold eye on his injured subordinates, and he wiped a streak of blood from his own forehead. He couldn't afford to be weak. "They'll be making the fastest route to the city," he informed them. "Find the girl: she'll be slow and sloppy without the guide roads. The cat will remain near her. Stay within my sight, or I swear to the Eves I will leave you to the Jockal." The woods would be dangerous going, even with their chainmail and swords. He half expected to find those girls in pieces before long.

With the Marshal in the lead, the three moved out at a brisk pace, following the trampled leaves and broken branches that Sam had left in her wake.

---

Dorothea's tail twitched against Sam's back. She sat straight and prim on the girl's shoulder, her big eyes watching ahead. "The Queen is not my mother," she said smartly, and she raised her chin. "My mother was beautiful, and kind, and beloved by all the kingdoms. This Queen is my poor father's conniving wife." Her tail was smacking Sam's shoulders. "She didn't tell me why she transformed me into a housecat, but I suspect it has to do with Liam." She was quiet another moment, a terrible anger roiling in her little stomach, while the chill wind blew a flurry of dead leaves across their path. "So you understand, Liam is the prince of the neighboring kingdom. He and I would be married, to unite our two kingdoms, except my stepmother the Queen Narissa is jealous. She's always been pushing her own moaning daughter at Liam and playing foul tricks to separate me from him. It is just like her to turn me into a beast to prevent my wedding for good, so Raquelle would be Liam's only choice for a bride. I daresay she plans to seize influence in both our kingdoms, to rule the continent before her greed might be satisfied."

Her ears perked, and she swiveled her head to glance behind. "You may want to run, Sam." Indeed, she could clearly hear the clink of armor behind them. Dorothea braced herself against Sam's neck. "Don't fall."

Let Me Be Your Doctor [Advanced]

PM'd you, Vicier!

I'll keep bumping this, if you don't mind. :) BUMP!

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

The Marshal flinched -- a flicker of change in his stony expression -- at the Queen's use of his name. He felt it as a reminder of what would happen to the people he still held dear, the people who once had fondly called him August, should he betray the Queen. No one had called him by his name since the King's wedding. The Marshal was a thing of scorn, and he preferred to keep it that way, black and cruel. As long as he was heartless -- as long as he held the Queen's trust and remained by her side -- he could keep watch over the kingdom.

He straightened, his eyes solemn and fixed straight ahead, in complete and professional obedience. "There were no problems, Your Majesty. We tracked the princess, and we retrieved her." He wouldn't tell her about the horseless carriages, the enormous palaces, the lanterns without flame that lit up the sky like the sun. If any of this was of interest to the Queen, he didn't feel inclined to indulge her. He bowed his head sharply. "With your leave we will commence our final pursuit."

--

The cat perched patiently on the branch, her tail switching, her eyes half-lidded. She stared at this other-world girl for awhile without saying anything at all. She watched her frustrated breathing, her shifting and pacing and twitching and hair-pulling. She waited for the girl to collect her wits, as surprised people sometimes needed to do, before she spoke again.

"My name is Dorothea," she said as simply as she could. "I am the princess of Eldonia, which is the kingdom we're in right now." She blinked slowly. "I am, obviously, just as human as yourself. I was changed into this form, and I will be changed back. Those men behind us work for the Queen, who, for her own reasons, requires me to disappear. Her men brought you here because they thought you knew too much. I do not think they realized how mute I had been, or how ignorant you were. They might have left you alone. You were brought here via a mirror doorway: one may only step through it while the moon is full and bright in your world. The sun has risen in your world, therefore the doorway is shut. I believe those are the answers to all your questions." She blinked again, slowly, and made every effort to avoid making sudden movements. She knew what it was to be confused and out of her depth. "I will guide you home, but you need to trust me. You might begin by telling me your name." She stood up on the branch, her tail stretched tall. "But while we walk. The Marshal will be fast after us."

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

It does make sense, only I think you might've mixed up east and west a couple times? Either way, what matters I guess is what kingdoms are nearby and where the characters are going. So right now they're all in the middle of the forest, heading toward Eldonia, which is quite a distance away.

Btw I love your latest posts, and I want to match the quality but my brain's not quite working to par right now. Will gather inspiration and post soon, hopefully.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

Sure, write away! I'm just not comfortable discussing events just before they happen, but worldbuilding is fun. :3

Peregrine [Closet & Glaw]

Of course he didn't speak English. Just by the look of him (and of the sand that drifted in after him on hot breezes) it was clear that not a word of Dorian's own language would pass the stranger's dry lips -- but he saw a steady purpose in the man's eyes, and he heard an honest strength in that steady voice that could only belong to an honorable man. Dorian drew in a slow breath, and he lowered the blade shard as the stranger lowered the key. His heart and his instinct compelled him to not only trust this man, but to respect him.

"Bury you?" he blurted in English, as a fragmented meaning made itself clear in his head. Dorian absently shoved the shard in his belt and rubbed his face in his palms. "Hang on, hang on," he muttered, knowing he wasn't being understood, "it takes awhile sometimes. Language, language, come on come on come on..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, his head bowed to the stranger in a few moments of awkward silence, broken only by the quick tapping of his thin fingers on the wall behind him.

He'd learned long ago, after a dozen opened doors with Agatha at his side, that there was so much more to those vines on the walls besides simple light. Coursing throughout the ship on that organic network, like blood through the veins, were the knowledge, thoughts, beliefs and dreams of thousands, maybe millions of people. The raw energy of that hive mind -- the consciousness, Dorian had come to call it -- illuminated the halls with a glow like the sun and radiated throughout the ship, permeating its walls as well as its passengers. After the first week of roaming the labyrinth, Dorian had noticed that he knew things he couldn't possibly have known: he understood things he never in several lifetimes could have hoped to grasp. He could pick up an alien object and know a minute later exactly what it was. It had taken him a month to learn to shut out the dreams while he slept. He wasn't sure Agatha had slept at all. He understood why she'd left. The longer they remained on the ship, the stronger and faster the consciousness folded itself into his own mind. He often wondered whether he would someday lose himself entirely in it.

"Pak ourya immi -- no, wait." He frowned, feeling that was just the wrong dialect, then suddenly brightened. "Ah! As-salamu alaykum," he said in a heavy accent and with a polite nod. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Zahi Akeem Gabir Hakim Amjad -- Your Highness -- but I really must assure you that I am not a Djinn. Just a man. I am called Dorian Foster. At your service, Your Highness." He spoke in Zahi's own language, though heavily influenced by his lazy English tongue, which improved slowly as he talked. He made another small bow.

"I can also assure you," he went on with a flourish, leaning foward with an encouraging smile, "that nobody is going to die today." He stood straight and proudly pointed down the hall. "Just down here, there's a --" He frowned, looking up as he thought, and he switched to English for a moment: "You don't have a word for hospital. Um. Healer!" He grinned, and repeated himself in Zahi's language. "Healer room. Down here. Fix you up very quickly, come with me, bring the key, come on -- uh, please. Your Highness."

Dorian began walking down the hall, making gentle beckoning motions to his newest friend. "You too, horsie! There's room for all, come on. Just --" he licked his lips, his brow furrowed, and pointed, "-- just leave that door open." There was no telling how fast the timeline was out there, and shutting the door could mean the difference of ten seconds or a thousand years. He cleared his throat. "So, Your Highness, if I may ask, how exactly did you come by that key?" He carefully composed his voice, and he kept his chin high as he spoke. He was frightened -- very frightened of the answer.

Just a Fairy Tale | Glaw & carsgovroom

The Marshal had been in the middle of shouting orders to his incompetent lackeys, struggling to be heard over the howls and the screeching, when the guards' eyes went wide and distant, and the spirits and the noise were sucked away into a sudden and jarring silence. It was in that terrible silence, his heart beating in his ears, that August Derrick knew the Queen was standing just behind him.

He spun around, and he bowed low, rigid in every muscle. "The Princess had escaped through the mirror, Your Majesty," he responded like crisp clockwork. "We have successfully returned her to the realm. She is in the wood outside. She will be retrieved to your custody and your dungeon within the hour, as is your will." Everything was going exactly according to plan. He simply wasn't quite sure what that plan was yet. He only had to convince the Queen of the former, and to keep his cool.

Dorothea paused in the fallen leaves, her tail high and flicking impatiently. "That doorway will be closed by now," she called out in answer to an unasked question. "I'm sorry, but you're a bit stuck at the moment. You're also in great danger if those men catch you, so try to keep up." She hopped daintily over leaves and bramble, and she was still unused to how gigantic the world looked from her new perspective. It seemed to her that it would take weeks to travel all the way to the castle with her small legs. She hopped onto a fallen log and paused to survey the quiet, cold woods. Nothing stirred; it all was bleak and bare, nothing but rocks and trees as far as she could see. Every little stone seemed an impassable obstacle in the way of returning her to her proper form and status.

She turned around, coiled her legs, and leaped onto the girl's shoulder again. "That's better," she purred, satisfied to at least be able to see at a proper height, and she settled comfortably for the ride. "We need to go to the castle. It's only a few miles' walk that way," she pointed with a soft paw. "There we can see about getting you home. But quickly!"