|Over the Hills and Far Away
Author: FoxyGrampa PM
All Flint wanted was to save his kingdom's princess, but what he gets is entirely unexpected. His duty is nearly taken away from him by a suave and mysterious nomad, and now he must team up with the confusing man in order to fulfill that duty. [slash]Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Adventure - Words: 4,546 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 4 - Published: 03-27-07 - id: 2339500
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Here's a new story I came up with a while ago. It's nothing much... mostly just for fluff purposes. Well, what I consider fluff. You probably wouldn't. I'm just that dark.
Mainly it's me trying a hand at simplistic concepts. Though knowing myself, it'll prolly go farther than that.
... Should be enjoyable, ne?
(Btw, the title is from a Led Zeppelin song. The song has almost nothing to do with the story, of course. I just stole the title. 8D;)
A face was lit in a green hue as it loomed above a jet black cauldron."It's nearly complete..." a seductive voice of a woman sounded.
Then the room was lit, revealing a very lavishly furnished library.
The woman looked back, serious face faulting when she spotted a certain bearded buffoon, holding the curtains to the window. She repressed a hiss from the sunlight as she faced it, instead bringing her pale lips to a heavy frown.
"Have I yet to inform you not to reveal the light in this room so suddenly?" she asked with a scowl.
The man flushed behind his beard, "So sorry about that, Lady Demetria."
"Not to worry," she answered cooly, taking a seat on an armchair, facing away from the sunlight and back toward her cauldron. "I have a job for you."
The man listened intently as Demetria poured herself a glass of wine, "Bring me a lock of hair, from a pure, virginal girl," she paused for a moment, sipping the ruby liquid, "Not just any, however. I must have the most beautiful lock, from a girl, just growing into a woman. That will make my potion perfect..."
Demetria smirked at the simmering cauldron in front of her a moment.
"Yes, milady," the man said, leaving the room quietly.
"What a simply gorgeous day!" Princess Guenevere said through a content sigh.
Indeed it was. Blue skies, lined with puffy clouds.
"They look like rabbit tails! Don't they look like fluffy rabbit tails, Flint?? All fluffy... like cotton!" Guenevere stated excitedly, looking over to her personal knight as she pointed up at the sky.
"Er, yes, your Majesty. I suppose they do," Flint said stiffly as he stood with her, under the shade of a lone standing tree. Guenevere soon skipped away from him, holding her pale golden gown up delicately with her hands as she headed to a small area of wild flowers nearby.
They were just outside the royal courtyard. Flint stared on enviously as other knights on horses came up on the dirt road next to them; no doubt off to slay a dragon or an ogre.
The leader stopped as he came to pass Flint, lifting up the eye portal provided on his helmet--rather ridiculous looking helmets this kingdom had, and Flint was grateful only that he didn't always have to wear them all the time like other knights.
A red mustache sprang out from the helmet a smidgen as a chortle came from the canned knight, "I do say! Is the Knight Flint off picking dandelions with the Lady Princess?" he tittered, finishing in a pompously sarcastic way, "I hope for your safe return!"
Laughs ensued from the other canned knights at Flint's expense. He flushed red as he sunk slightly into his chest armor, a thankful sigh coming from him as the knights rode off.
Guenevere watched the scene from a bit farther away, slightly irritated by the other knight's behavior. Just because she didnít need a rescuing every so often didn't mean he wasn't a capable knight--in fact, that meant he was a very good one. She then sighed slightly, 'A good stiff one, limiting freedom...'
Flint watched on as the princess collapsed onto the green grass, snorting slightly at how childish she seemed this day, as the move was more blunt than graceful. Her golden, wavy tresses lay strewn on the emerald green grass, and her pale eyelids covered sky blue irises. Perky pink lips were in a slight pout for a moment, and her petite pixie-like nose twitched as the wind blew a slight.
She was quite beautiful, even at her slightly ripe age. She was fifteen, while Flint would be nearly twenty. He had watched over her since she was a small child, and he almost felt a sibling bond for her. Him being orphaned, and her an only child, it was only evident that would happen. Though he always treated her as knight to his princess; more formal than she ever liked it to be.
Guenevere picked a flower from the earth, sitting up to take in its scent. She admired Flint's gallant steed for a moment; a dull white horse with grey spots on its hips and face. It was quite cute, and she thought its flamboyance was an odd contrast to Flint's usual dullness.
The princess sighed. She would surely have an infatuation with the handsome man if it weren't for his constant sighs and bored expression while around her. He obviously desired something more exciting than simply watching over a Princess.
At least even with the bored look, he was still easy on the eyes. Shoulder length silver hair, gorgeous, dark lavender eyes. His coloring went so well with the kingdom's colors of silver, blue and lilac, patterned ornately on his armor. It was all topped off with a masculine, finely chiseled, yet ever so slightly feminine and youthful face.
Women in the kingdom were all but head-over-heels for him at one glance; peasant or noble, married or not. Yet he displayed no interest in them, or even Guenevere herself. All he cared about was his work as a knight for the king.
Which would make ditching him today a whole lot harder.
Being so loyal to his post and all.
Flint sat down on the grass, settling against the tree. The breeze was feeling mighty good now; quite relaxing. Maybe, he figured dully, the princess wanting to relax under the gorgeous blue sky wasn't such a bad idea. He slowly felt his eyelids become heavy...
He was soon snoozing away under the tree, and the moment Guenevere heard his snoring, she slowly tiptoed her way into the nearby forest.
Guenevere breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she had gotten meters away from the young man, "Finally!" she said to herself, trotting off into the welcoming forest of birds, animals and pretty flowers.
She skipped along, looking in a green pond full of salamanders and toads. She wrinkled her noses almost playfully at the slimy creatures before continuing her journey. Guenevere sighed gently as she looked around the dark green forest, wondering how long this moment of freedom would last.
Her protective knight in shining armor would be sure to ruin the fun eventually.
She grimaced at the thought. The princess never understood why so many princesses in stories wanted a knight to come save them, heroic and masculine. Or why they wanted some prissy little prince to come and marry them. It was all rather silly; it was like they were asking for a life of solitude and seclusion as a queen.
Guenevere had lived her whole life in solitude! She didn't need it anymore. She thought for a bit, wondering what kind of man she would want in her life. Dark and mysterious sounded pleasing; somehow those words were all she needed to make her sigh. Though she doubted there was anyone near her that would fit that bill.
She pouted, then walked on deeper into the forest.
Meanwhile, Flint snorted and twitched in his sleep. His horse, lovingly named Carrots by the Princess herself, had taken to eating grass, slowly trotting away to try to get at some more of the delicious plant. Unbeknownst to both beings, Flint still had Carrots' rein grasped tightly in one hand.
The horse clumsily pulled the man from his sitting position, and from his dream world.
Flint snapped his eyes open. He tried to register what happened with a quick look around, until his lavender eyes finally landed on the rein in his hand, "Damn horse," he mumbled to himself, getting up to pull Carrots back.
As soon as he was up, he noticed something amiss.
Wildflowers, emerald green grass...
"Princess?" Flint called, eyes wide with a sudden panic, "Princess!!" he called louder, then swiftly jumped onto Carrots to gallop toward the last place he saw her.
In the forest, Guenevere mumbled, "Shit," as she heard the knight's voice call for her. She left the gaggle of animal friends (whom had mysteriously gathered around her as soon as she sat on a lone stump) to tread deeper into the forest with a quickened pace.
"Princess!" Flint shouted again upon entering the nearby forest, looking around. He then glanced down, seeing petite footprints on the dirt of a nearby bush, "Princess..." he repeated, only now more irritably and to himself.
He galloped into the forest, passing a lone stump on the way and finding more familiar tracks in a patch of dirt, "Damn girl," he muttered to himself.
The light haired young man followed the tracks until he reached a clearing, "Princess?" he called again.
He looked around slowly until he caught something move out of the corner of his eye. He snapped his head to look, finding Guenevere, hunched down under a nook of a tree, with a single flower in hand.
A defeated look crossed the Princess' face as she was spotted, "Heh, heh," she laughed nervously, crawling out of the nook.
Flint's look turned from relieved to agitated in a moment. He started to trot to her. Even as the princess took to her pouting face, he still stared hard at her.
Then, nearly in a flash, the princess was swiped from the ground by a dark figure.
"Guenevere!" Flint shouted, his heart pulsing as he registered what had just happened. He galloped after a dark horse and its rider, whom had Guenevere clutched against him.
Guenevere struggled to pry the gloved hands off her delicate lips, her cheeks already stained with tears. She struggled to keep the knight's figure in her sight. She finally managed to get the riderís large hand off her face, and struggled a stifling screech, "Flint!!"
Flint urged his horse faster as the frightened call passed her lips.
Then in an instant, the dark horse and its rider came to a low cliff on the land. They swiftly jumped over it, while Flint was left to halt his horse at its start.
"Damnit!" he cursed, quickly getting up to stand on the back of his horse, manually climbing up the vine covered cliff, "Princess!" he shouted, eyes wide as he realized how far away the rider and the horse were now.
He tried to run to them, running for what seemed like hours. But the horse, its rider, and Guenevere were gone from sight.
The King of Springtide Valley was red in the face. As if the digs of the trade weren't bad enough to give him this complexion (a heavy cape on a summer day was more than just toasty), the stress and worry just made the whole job of king worse.
"See? Look at what you did! He's ready to pass out!" his prudish advisor screeched at Flint, giving him a scathing look from the height of the throne.
The King wiped his face with an ornate handkerchief, "I'm fine," he snapped at the effeminate man, "Just because the Queen is gone for the month doesn't give you the right to her job as a nag."
Some of the King's knights snorted or stifled a laugh. Flint would have most likely done the same, but at the moment his mind was preoccupied with other thoughts.
"Speaking of the Queen..." the King started again, gaining a look of deeper worry, "She musn't know of this while she is away. She will surely have a fit at the thought of her only daughter kidnapped," he said forlornly.
"Sir," Flint spoke, "Your Majesty... I will do all I can to get the Princess back. I will leave post haste--"
"Dear boy, I wouldn't have it any other way," the King answered calmly, "But we must wait for a call. There will be a ransom of some sort, I'm sure," he finished bitterly, "And most of our good knights are off fighting the Trolls of the Great Dunes. I can't have you go alone, for we don't know our adversaries..."
Flint sighed, knowing the King was correct about everything he had just said.
"Let us not worry; the Princess will most likely go unharmed, and she is a strong young woman. Let us hope that a messenger will come no later than tomorrow. For now, the Knight Flint and all must rest."
The King looked over to his advisor, who stood just next to his throne, still pouting about his last comment, "Advisor," the king called, and the scrawny man perked up once more, "Let none of the kingdom know of this travesty yet. We must retard any ways of the Queen of finding out..."
"Yes, my liege," the advisor bowed, "Ah, would that mean..." he said, a look of realization crossing his face, "That our Knight, Flint, must return the Princess Guenevere, before the Queen returns...?"
The King paled, "Oh, crickets," he muttered, wiping his face with the handkerchief again.
"It will be done, sire," Flint stated boldly, earning a frown from the advisor.
"And so what if he doesn't return before the Queen??" the advisor exclaimed hastily, "You must enact punishment!"
The King thought for a moment, "Or perhaps, I should endow the greatest prize known if he should return in time," he smiled warmly then, "My dearest Guenevere has always had hesitance to marry a Prince from another land. So, in her greatest interest, and for your honor, I will award you with her hand in marriage, Flint, Knight of Springtide, if you shall return with her in time."
The throne room erupted in gasps and whispers, while Flint merely stood, shocked and paled by the proposal, 'Marriage...?'
"S- sir!" the advisor finally made out through his sporadic chokes, "She is your only daughter!"
"Which is why I feel this is the best for her," the King returned, "And I would rather have Flint as King when I have passed than some posh, soft-bellied prince of another kingdom!"
More gasps and whispers ensued.
'... King?!' Flint nearly had to stop himself from passing out. This day was really too much to take in all at once.
The advisor promptly passed out for him, while all others remained more occupied with Flint's new role in the turn of events to notice the suddenly collapsed man.
"I think that will be enough motivation for you, won't it, Sir Flint?" the King smiled at him, eyes twinkling.
"Uh..." Flint's voice cracked through, until he nodded weakly.
"Wonderful! Now we must wait for the messenger!"
Flint finally found his built up sigh. The king always knew how to turn a party around. An announcement of a kidnapping to a wedding and throning. He almost felt himself pass out again.
Flint cupped the water in his hands, quickly splashing it on his face. He sighed, hunching more over the barrel of water. Carrots grunted at him from inside his stable.
Flint looked up at the horse, "When did you get back?" he asked the equine, who merely blinked in response.
"Found 'em out by that forest."
Flint jumped, spinning around, only to find the stable boy. He sighed again, looking around for something to wipe his face.
The boy threw him a rag, "Heard 'bout the Princess."
Flint looked at the rag, grimacing at its dirty condition. He dropped it to the ground, instead wiping his face with his long cape as he sat down on an upturned bucket, "Good for you," he mumbled to the boy.
"Yeah. But i'ss good for you, aye? You marry the Princess, become King..."
Flint gathered his face up into his hands, moaning slightly.
The stable boy looked taken aback, "Well i'ss not that bad, is it? Always thought the Princess a look'a..."
Flint ignored the disrespect of the last comment, looking up at the boy through his long fingers, "Do you know how tied down both married men and Kings are? I think ours barely leaves the castle..."
The stable boy seemed to stop and consider this, "Yeah, I guess tha's true. But I really dunno any man that wouldn' want full control of the Kingdom--or marry royalty that is as well, quite easy on the eyes..."
"Well, you've met one now," Flint stated glumly, leaning up against Carrots' stable, "But what other choice do I have..."
The stable boy shrugged, going back to his work. Then, he slowly rose from picking up a bag of oats, "... Wait a minute, can't you just wait out the month? Not return with her on time, I mean, but still return her??" he said, looking back.
Flint's eyes widened as relief seemed to pour all over him. He laughed slightly, "Of course..." he said wispily, slapping his forehead with a dopish smile, "It's not like anyone would be harmed by that--maybe the King a little, but..."
He shot up, stalking over to the stable boy. He grabbed his shoulders, nearly kissing him, but then stopped himself, instead simply patting him on the back before he ran out of the stable.
The stable boy watched his figure disappear, "What a loon..."
The sun fell off the earth, then jumped back the next day without a hitch in Springtide. The people went about their business with utter ignorance of their princess' disappearance.
By mid-afternoon, the marketplace was lined with people and venders.
"For the last time, lady..."
"What??" the old woman pulled her ear phone closer to the irritated customer's face as she casually fanned herself, "Speak up, sonny!"
Reed clenched his teeth together, trying not to explode at the deaf woman. He raked his moss colored hair back, "Please. Get me medicine for a headache."
"What?" the old woman squawked again, "You say you want some carpet?"
Reed looked at her, dumbfounded, "Did that even sound like carpet?" he said meekly, "I give up," he finished glumly, walking away from the old woman's vend.
The old woman's eyes followed him until he was farther away. She let out a sigh, "Damn foreigner bums," she bit out, chewing on the sliver of straw at her lips.
Her reasons for saying this would be obvious to anyone in Springtide who set eyes on the man; he had a different way of speaking than most around here, and had very different clothing, covering a muscular build.
She recognized his jacket as only being from the far east, with its wide sleeves and thick fabric. He had it scantly covering his chest--which she honestly didn't mind, since he wasn't a terribly ugly man at all. He was tan, with hardly a hair on his wide chest.
But kinda stinky, now that she realized a foul odor was gone from the air as he left.
Reed looked back at the old woman, scowling considerably as she curtly served a different customer. He dug his arms into his long sleeves, resting them inside his thick gi, in a crook above the thin rope used to tie it to himself.
This kingdom at least seemed more prosperous than the last he had visited. Though with that came more snooty people. Reed was currently receiving very odd or dark looks as he passed by.
His feet were pulsing in pain as he walked on the stone street. He really needed new boots--and a place to stay. He let a pout cross his face as he came up to a large and magnificent castle, located at what appeared to be the outer part of the town.
'Wish I could be staying there...' he thought, chuckling slightly as an image of his dirty self in a pristine palace room came to him. A wry grin spread on his face, making some of the tin-can guards give him suspicious looks from within their armor.
Reed was about to walk away, but stopped himself in mid-step when a few knights came into view, passed the short hedge, walking the wall of the castle.
Each of them were canned. All except the leader.
The leader had a stoic expression on his face, but even from where Reed was standing now, he could see enigmatic violet eyes donned on the youthful face.
"Hm, curious," Reed muttered to himself, bringing his arm quickly back through his sleeve to hold his chin as he took to musing the rare colored eyes.
"Sir," a voice sounded through a metallic echo, and Reed finally brought his thoughts back to earth. He looked over to the tin-canned knight, who continued, "Do you have any business here? I'm afraid you are loitering at this point."
Reed snorted, sauntering away without a reply. He looked back for a moment, seeing that the light-haired knight had gone already.
'Or maybe I just imagined it all,' Reed mused, smirking to himself again.
While Flint was worried about Princess Guenevere, he couldn't help but dream of adventures. It had been so long since he left the castle's gates, out on a hunt or on a small quest.
He now stood in the throne room once more, butterflies in his stomach as they all waited for some word from the kidnappers.
"Sire! Sire," a messenger boy ran in, making both Flint and the King jump at his voice.
"Is there word??" the King asked eagerly.
The boy shook his head as he struggled to catch his breath, "No... there's a dragon," he started, a wild look in his eye, "attacking the marketplace!"
Everyone's eyes went wide.
"Are you sure of it?!" the King boomed through, before whispers would overtake the noise of the room.
The boy nodded his head urgently, looking over to Flint and his small band of knights.
"Flint, go with your knights and see to it," the King ordered.
"Yes," Flint answered cooly, bowing swiftly before allowing the messenger boy to lead the way out.
Screams ripped through as the horse-sized dragon came down from his flight again, crashing into a vend, sending debris flying.
"Shit," Reed stated sharply, a large plank just missing his head. He set his eyes on the source, the poison yellow dragon hissing out a wild noise, "Crickets, this looks like a problem," he sighed, appearing the least affected person in the market as he stared into the dragon's sharp, scarlet eyes.
He felt the sword hilt at his side. The scaled beast was caught in some cloth, its muscled arms tangled in the thin sheet, only a moment ago draped over posts.
It would be an unfair play to attack it while distracted.
Much less fun, as well.The dragon swung its tail, knocking over a few other vends as it backed up into a mirroring building. It finally released itself, hissing and screeching in victory as it clumsily took to the air once more.
Reed stood stock still, only his head moving, following the creature's low flight path.
Around him, most people were running aimlessly in a panic, while other (smarter) folks took to hiding or fleeing the area. Then there were shouts of cheer and hope as the sounds of horse hooves came, clopping against the stone street.
Reed didn't look back, even as a clear and masculine voice broke through the yells, "Ready your arrows. Fire!"
Reed smirked as arrows flew through the air, quite a few hitting the dragon's back and limbs. The dragon hissed, landing itself on a nearby roof. It shook the arrows off like a dog out of the water.
Reed finally looked back, smirking as his dark eyes met with a pair of frustrated mauve. He then looked back at the dragon, and back again at the disgruntled young man, "Aim for the wings."
Flint finally took his eyes off the dragon, which had taken to soaring back around the area once more. "What?" he questioned sharply, looking at Reed for a moment with scrutiny.
"I think I spoke clearly enough," Reed answered cooly, "Tell your men to aim at the wings. They're torn a slight already," he finished casually, looking back to the air borne beast.
Flint raised an eyebrow defiantly for a moment before reason took the better of him, "Ready your arrows once more--aim them at the beasts' wings."
Arrows once more shot through the air.
Many arrows shot straight through the dragon's leathery wings, and the reptilian beast shot to the ground with a large thud, shrieking as its long tongue flailed out its mouth and its expressive eyes went wide.
Reed sighed, always disheartened when slaying a beautifully powerful creature such as dragon.
Though there was no other choice.
Flint was smirking victoriously, looking back down to thank the stranger. His eyes went wide when he saw that the man was gone.
He looked back ahead at the dragon, seeing the man sprinting at the disarmed beast, "Aye! What the hell are you doing, man?!"
Reed didn't hear him before taking out his sword, stopping as the beast stood on its hind legs. He clutched the sword in his hands, expression still calm, though more confident. His long eyebrows arched down as it stared off the beast.
"Shit," Flint bit out irritably as he hopped off his horse. He motioned for the canned knights to follow with a swift hand movement, before running to meet the dragon as well.
The dragon soon got back on its front legs again and charged at Reed, who dodged to the right.
Flint had to dodge as well, and in the meantime took his own sword out. His eyes met with Reed's, whose name he still did not know, but felt he would soon have to find out as he stared into the seemingly blank, dark eyes...
A/N: Thanks mucho grande for reading. This story's updates will probably be inconsistent, but do read along anyway, for I see good in its future.
As well, don't make yourself a stranger to my other series, Dance of the Chimera and Memento Mori. If you've reviewed one but not the other--go read the other! And if you've only just read this one--crickets, man, go read those two! They're my real talent. Haha.
Anyway, please drop a review to let me know how you liked it. Again, thanks for reading.