Challenge #01857-E033: A Best-laid Plan
The evil has been slain, the entire nation celebrates in the streets and now, the beautiful Princess who was saved very publicly confesses her love and the King offers her hand in marriage to the noble Hero…
Except the Hero was already married - to the woman who sells potions and medicines; she had been aiding the Hero since the quest to save the princess first began, and their love grew more with each visit.
Also, the Hero isn’t a Hero, they’re a Heroine… making the wedding’s implied promise of one day bringing a new generation of royalty rather tricky to fulfill, to say the least, even without the existing marriage issue…
The confession was made by the Princess, and likewise the offer made by the King, due to said Hero(ine) being “butch” enough to be mistaken for a man when armored (though her wife obviously knows), but never getting the opportunity to correct anyone else (particularly any of the royalty) due to either being too polite/socially-anxious to speak up or constant interruption by Wacky Circumstances getting in the way…
Cue an awkward reveal in a rather public situation. -- ChaosWolf1982
The hero's welcome was quite a sight. Even though the hero in question still wore their bloodied, stained and battered battle armour. Even though their horse was a common draught horse with their mane and tail and feathers clipped short to avoid trouble in battle. Behind the hero, on another draught horse, was the potioneer. She was part of the team that had saved the princess. And she rode with a majority of the tools of her trade in the horse's panniers.
Only the Princess, on her graceful white charger, looked like she belonged in a parade. Of course she did. The court had sent a portable salon and some beautiful riding clothes for her and the inevitable parade. The best that they could do for the hero and the potioneer was clean them up and make sure their hair was tidy. Nevertheless, the people cheered. They threw flowers. Flower petals. Paper ribbons. And of course, their cheers and huzzahs. All the way to the palace.
Where courtiers helped the Princess dismount, and the hero helped themself, and then the potioneer to the ground. Where they all paraded in with as much formality as they could muster, all the way to the throne and the Kings' welcome. Where the hero kelt and presented their blade, and the potioneer knelt by the hero's side.
"Welcome," said the King. "Today, you have won not only my thanks, but the heart and body of my daughter. In rescuing her from a foe no man could best, she is amenable to giving you her hand in marriage. As is custom."
Custom decreed it. And for a long time, the hero was silent. "I am flattered, your Majesty," said the voice inside the helm. "But I am afraid it is an offer that I am honour bound, duty bound, and oath bound to refuse."
Shocked murmurings amongst the court.
"Explain yourself, sir hero," said the King. "Before the court takes this as a slight."
"To explain in full, I must show the truth. May I ungird my armour, my Liege?"
The King snapped his fingers and a swarm of squires appeared and began unbuckling things. "My heart, my body and my oath belong to my companion. My wife," the hero gestured to the potioneer. "We have been married for seven wonderful years and adventuring together for nine. I would not leave her, even if death parted us."
The Princess softened, putting her hand to her mouth and cooing in appreciation. "Such a love shall not perish by my father's hand," she vowed.
"My duty is to protect the helpless, with no thought of reward. Such is the plight of the hero. Those who can help will do so, and those who cannot still deserve salvation," said the hero. "I would not take this grand reward even if I were not oath-bound to another."
"As for honour." Now the buckles were off, and the pieces of plate fell away. The hero helped the squires unlace the padded curais that had been underneath. "You were correct in saying that no man could best this kingdom's foe. And by my honour I must tell the truth." The curais came off. Revealing a stout and muscular woman. Plain to begin with, battle scarred on top of that. "I am no man. And thus would not be able to sire the next generation of royalty." She joined hands with her wife. "Bless us or condemn us how you will, but I would consider it an honour to join the Princess' body guard. You would be guaranteed her safety with my arm and my sword."
"And my gifts," added the potioneer.
For a long time, the King was silent. "Well shit," he said. "How the fuck are we to solve that inbreeding problem now?"
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Fotolit]
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This is illegally beautiful!!! Wow!
good post friend