Prince Marian was a handsome prince, the finest sampling of an aristocratic entrée one could pull off of the royal platter. He came from a handsome family, with two handsome older brothers and handsome parents, who owned a handsome castle and lived on a handsome stretch of land, which the not so handsome serfs tilled and impregnated with their blood, sweat, and tears. The royals wore that blood as rubies inlaid in their fine silken clothes, the sweat as bejeweled hairnets, the tears as diamond necklaces and diamond rings on their soft fingers.

Oh, but the woes of his begetter’s people were unimportant, the most trivial of matters, really. Prince Marian spared them not even a fraction of a thought as his beautiful black steed galloped across the dry earth in the middle of nowhere, the grayish purple sky flying overhead for miles in every barren direction. He rode day and night, though the passage of time was unclear in this wasteland, only stopping when he was tired enough to necessitate sleep. He used the enchanted bag and the enchanted flask given to him by the court sorcerer, Alabaster, to keep himself and his horse fed and hydrated, as both enchanted supplies had unlimited amounts of food and water, respectively.

After many grueling days of riding, resulting in tired muscles and aching nether regions, the landscape began to change. Prince Marian stopped when he noticed the brown earth beginning to bleach and took out his winter clothes. Warm pants, thick boots, a heavy animal fur coat, leather gloves, a wool cap, and the like, each garment stowed away into his enchanted bottomless bag. It was all designed in regal fashion, gorgeous and classy, complimenting his endowments of brilliant auburn hair, warm skin, sharp brown eyes, pink lips.

His noble steed stamped the frozen ground impatiently, and Prince Marian leapt again onto his back, kicking him into gear. The austere creature happily complied, tossing its head and whinnying for an added effect. The landscape began to transform. Hills of ice jutted out of the ground, which was now bone-white and soft with a layer of snow. The sky was a dim blue-gray, and Prince Marian could see his breath in front of his face. The drastic climate change didn’t deter him; he’d been waiting his entire twenty-two years of life for this.

Everyone in the Kingdom of Fire knew the legend of Caecus Vir, the kingdom that froze. Back then, the Kingdom of Fire and Caecus Vir had been at odds. When they’d overcome their differences, the respective rulers signed a peace treaty that was now hanging in the Hall of Eternal Light in the castle of the Kingdom of Fire. Everything had been tranquil in the Kingdom of Fire; the peace had seemed ever-lasting. The people in Caecus Vir, however, had not been faring so well. Crime soared and the sovereigns suffered through numerous insurrections, respectively. Finally, Clementia the Merciful Maiden delivered Caecus Vir from their discordance, naturally by casting a one hundred-year winter on their kingdom.

Merciful Maiden my ass, Prince Marian scoffed.

Caecus Vir had been reduced to snow and ice and wind, and by now there were no people left, no hardened hearts, no crime, no insurrections. All were gone, all except one, the one that Prince Marian was destined to save.

Clementia the Merciful Maiden had decreed that one day a noble prince from Caecus Vir’s loving sister kingdom, the Kingdom of Fire, would set the frozen kingdom free. In Caecus Vir, the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Fire would find the heiress to the throne of Caecus Vir, said heiress having been put under a spell of one hundred years of peaceful slumber, remaining unharmed in the kingdom as it crumbled around her. She was to wake up on the prophesized day and revive her kingdom through a sacred matrimony with the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Fire.

One hundred years had come and gone. Caecus Vir had crumbled to a ruined shamble of stone and rubble. Prince Marian had been born. And now the prophecy was to be fulfilled. Prince Marian smiled to himself, snapping his steed’s reins and quickening the maddening tempo of the creature’s powerful hooves. Snow sprayed in their wake, and the icicles hanging off of ancient ruins trembled as they passed. The evidence of the once mighty bastion was becoming clearer now; there were sections of stone wall that hadn’t been completely eroded, grand archways that swept up and over and allowed Prince Marian passage to his destiny.

Finally, he reached his designation. It was the former courtyard of the mighty Caecus Vir castle. The periphery was still evident, a huge square of stones. The once towering walls were now pathetic dips and crags, but they were there nonetheless, as if keeping watch over a precious child cradled in their arms. Prince Marian called his steed to a halt and dismounted, ordering the beast to stay put as he hunted down the legendary heiress. The steed snorted in response, giving a definite nod of his large head. Prince Marian patted the creature’s neck and looked around. There were trees growing around the edges of the courtyard, trees with flowers! In wonder, Prince Marian approached them, his gloved fingers hovering over the blue-as-death petals, bejeweled with frost and stiff with ice. But they were flowers, nonetheless! And these trees! These trees with blue-green leaves, bleached trunks and branches. What sorcery was this, that they would survive in such a wasteland of snow!

“Excuse me?” Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Prince Marian started, whirling around. His eyes met with those of the clearest sapphire, surely the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. The eyes were edged in pale blue lashes, wet with melted snow and collecting more flakes as they wafted down from the sky. Around the eyes there was a pale face, flushed slightly from the cold, pink-stained porcelain, with matching pretty pink lips. A small, cute nose curved outwards above the mouth, and framing the angelic face were waves of downy blue hair, most of it hidden by the hood of a cloak. Observing the rest of the person, Prince Marian found that they were indeed wearing a blue silken cloak of thick, layered fabric. Underneath was a white, high-collared gown, stitched with navy floral designs and intricate lacy patterns down the bodice.

This must have been the heiress. Or at least, Prince Marian hoped so, for he was so madly in love with this creature.

He dropped down to one knee, removing his gloves and taking the heiress’s hand in his own. She made a surprised sound, and the pink of her cheeks deepened. Her fingernails were manicured and painted to match her eyes, and her skin was surprisingly warm. Prince Marian resisted the urge to press the hand to his face, which in the presence of this epitome of inner warmth and beauty was feeling so terribly cold. “Are you the next ruler of Caecus Vir?” he asked her.

She nodded tentatively. “I am.” Her voice was strong and smooth, and Prince Marian found himself transfixed by it, as if it were his favorite sonata. The words seemed to caress the frozen air and spark it, the heat hitting his skin and making him shiver.

He was overjoyed at these words, these two simple words. He rose from his genuflected position, still holding her hand and reaching for the other. “My lady, I am Prince Marian of the Kingdom of Fire, and I am here to save you from your wintry prison! I am here to help resurrect your kingdom and bring harmony to our lands!” he proclaimed with a regal flourish.

The heiress started this time, turning away from Prince Marian. His heart sank. “You’re the one from the Prophecy!” she murmured, sounding both excited and horrified. Spinning on her heel, she faced him, her face now stern. “But, kind sir, I am no lady!”

Prince Marian stared, and then laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to use it in a demeaning manner. I’m sure you’re not a fragile damsel, or anything of the sort, what to survive here, all by your lonesome? There must be a lion within you—”

“Kind sir!” the heiress interrupted. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken—I am no lady! I am a man! The next king of Caecus Vir! The Crown Prince Andris!”

Prince Marian’s laughter abated instantaneously, and he stared again. The heiress—the heir’s voice no longer sounded so enticing. Now it was most assuredly the voice of a man in his ears, not the unusually strong voice of a woman. He put his hand to his forehead in despair. “How did this happen? This isn’t the what the Prophecy foretold!”

“What document were you reading?” Prince Andris demanded, putting his hands on his hips, not unlike the way an angry woman would.

“The one handed to us by Clementia the Merciful Maiden herself—”

“Impossible! She would never act as Her own messenger! It must have been one of Her children, one of the Prophets of Old!” Prince Andris started pacing furiously in the snow, clutching at his hair. “What now?”

“What now, you ask me?” Prince Marian folded his arms over his chest. “How am I supposed to know?! My destiny is ruined now! It’s as good as this ratty old bastion!” He swept a hand behind himself, gesturing to the remains of the castle.

Prince Andris halted, glaring at Prince Marian. “Ratty old bastion! How dare you defame my house, the hard work of my forefathers’ serfs! First you misread the Prophecy, and now you insult me? What manner of prince are you?!”

“What manner of prince am I? At least I don’t look like a woman!”

“Woman! Again with the insults! It’s not enough that the future of my kingdom is riding on my shoulders! No, never give Prince Andris a break!” The prince gestured angrily, turning a fist and his face at the sky. “Clementia the Merciful Maiden! Hah! Clementia the Backstabbing Bitch is more like it!” He bent down and gathered up a handful of snow, packing it into a ball. Then he launched it at the monotonous gray clouds. Prince Marian was taken aback at the effeminate man’s strength.

All bit of wonder was erased however in one fateful face-full of freezing snow. As is the way of things, Prince Andris’s snowball had hurled back down and hit the other straight on. The impact was painful enough, but the cold was unbearable. Prince Marian growled, wiping the snow from his face, and leaned down to create his own ammo. Prince Andris watched him incredulously, previously amused by the turn of events. But then a snowball was being thrown at him, and hit him directly in the chest. He gasped, not able to believe that Prince Marian had actually retaliated!

And then he laughed.

Prince Andris collapsed in the snow and started to laugh, unable to stop. Prince Marian stilled, his glare giving way to confusion. This man must have completely lost his mind; that was the only explanation!

“Pr-Prince Marian!” the other roared, holding his sides. “Prince Marian! Do you know what we have to do?!”

Prince Marian took a wary step back, his plan to quietly slip away while Prince Andris had a mental breakdown snuffed out prematurely. “What do we have to do?”

“W-W-We have to get married!” For some reason, Prince Andris just seemed to find this completely hilarious.

Prince Marian, on the other hand, had another opinion. “My friend, you’ve lost it! We can’t get married!”

Prince Andris staggered to his feet, the bottom of his cloak caked in snow. He had reduced his hysterics to bubbling giggles. “And why ever not, kind sir?”

Prince Marian took another step back, panicking slightly now that Prince Andris was on his feet.

“Don’t you see? This is exactly what She wants! This is your destiny, my prince!” Prince Andris stepped towards the other, and Prince Marian found himself unable to move. “You must marry me, and break the spell! You have to save me from my wintry prison, remember? You’re here to help resurrect my kingdom and bring harmony to our lands! You can’t not fulfill the Prophecy!”

“But this isn’t the way the Prophecy goes! You’re supposed to be a woman! You’re supposed to have a chest and a light voice and soft features! You’re supposed to sigh when I sweep you off your feet and carry you away!”

Prince Andris was now nearly toe-to-toe with Prince Marian, and the latter still didn’t move. At his full height, Prince Andris was eyelevel with Prince Marian’s mouth, and he tilted his head to look up into those superior brown eyes. “Who says I won’t sigh if you sweep me off my feet?” he murmured, his lashes brushing Prince Marian’s lower lip. “Whoa!” Prince Andris’s feet were no longer underneath him, and his arms immediately clasped themselves around Prince Marian’s neck like magnets as he was held in the other’s strong arms.

“See? You didn’t sigh.” Prince Marian tsked disappointedly.

“Well, you didn’t give me a proper chance!” Prince Andris pouted, his boot-clad feet dangling in the frosty air. “Do it again.”

“Sorry, one-time deal.” Prince Marian set the other down, bending to gather up his gloves. He slipped them on his hands, which only now was he realizing were numb with cold. “So what are we really going to do about this? The Prophecy according to our document said that after your one hundred-year slumber I was to come and rescue you, rebuild your kingdom and bind it with mine in a sacred matrimony. I really don’t see that happening now!”

Prince Andris put his hands back on his hips. “And why not?! Before being put to sleep, I was told that one day I would awaken to find my kingdom-to-be purged of all of its sin, and a friend would be waiting for me. He was to help me rebuild Caecus Vir, and together we’d form an alliance stronger than any alliance ever conceived!”

“Why would Clementia the Merciful Maiden—”

“Backstabbing Bitch.”

“—do this? Why would she purposefully skew the Prophecy so that it would turn out like this?”

“Because she’s a twisted old crone with a horrible sense of humor!” This, Prince Andris directed at the clouds.

Prince Marian sighed, rubbing his eyes with his gloved fingers. “So now what?”

Prince Andris closed the distance between himself and the other again. “Now I do this.” He leaned up and pressed his lips to Prince Marian’s, who made a small surprised noise. But once more he found his limbs rooted to their spots, like trees seeking water through the ground. Prince Andris’s arms came up around his neck, tugging him closer.

The wind swirled around them, sending puffs of glittering snow through the air. When Prince Andris pulled away, Prince Marian’s face was a dark pink. “I…uhm, oh.”

“So eloquent, Marian. I can tell you’re going to make a fantastic king one day.”

“Be quiet! I—”

Prince Andris kissed him again, more forcefully this time. Prince Marian offered no further protest.

Together, they rode back on Prince Marian’s noble steed, across the ice and snow, across the dry land, and back to the Kingdom of Fire. There they were married under the sacred name of Clementia the Merciful Maiden, and the one hundred-year winter of Caecus Vir was brought to an end. There was much revelry that night in the castle, where the courtiers boasted their hairnets bejeweled with the sweat of the serfs, their rubies of blood and their diamonds of tears. And Prince Marian swept Prince Andris off of his feet in the middle of the Hall of Everlasting Light.

Prince Andris dutifully sighed.

And they lived happily ever after.

The End.