by Taralover » Wed Aug 26, 2009 3:29 pm
Author: Taralover
Rating: PG-13 but might change later
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy and I am making no money from this fanfiction.
Summary-Willow is forced into acting the part of a Princess,and Tara has to come and rescue her.
Notes-I love feedback. Laragh, Amy, thank you.
Chapter Two-The Job Offer
The guard strode too and fro outside the walls, his halberd over his shoulder. In a short time from now, Rame Tep will be avenged and Princess Sarah will be assassinated for the glory of our cause. And with luck, the next ruler on the throne of Vallermoore will be a King. He watched another man come forward who he knew to be part of his Rame Tep cell, a man who he had divulged the palace password to not long ago. “Password?” he asked him.
“Gilgamesh.”
He looked left and right to make sure he was not being watched, unlocked the gate and let his fellow cell member in. Whilst the outer walls would set off a magical alarm spell if they were passed using magic, this was not true of the inner walls
Donnie looked left and right to make sure noone was watching him, and then pulled a Floatstone from under his coat and tied it to his belt. Unlike such magical items as Glowstones or Tracker Stones, which were freely and legally available to the general public, Floatstones were restricted as far as the law went to use by members of the police when doing their duty, because of their potential in the wrong hands to be used for all manner of crimes, but Rame Tep had a contact or two in the police force. All their members had one thing in common, for one reason or other, they all hated women. Some had been cheated on or dumped by their wives and girlfriends, others joined because they were religious zealots, and a few were just psychopathic. Their ultimate aim was to destroy the Queendom and place a King on the throne, who would stop treating women as the equals of men and turn the clock back to the Old Times when most women were little better then slaves.
He spoke the words of magic and floated up sixty feet to the top of the Princess’s tower, where he saw her sitting in a chair reading a book. With her bright red hair and her soft green eyes, there were many nobles and kings who longed to marry her, but the Queen had arranged her marriage to the Prince of Karnivhal in advance as the only one in her eyes who would be worthy of her daughter, be a good diplomatic match and would not totally horrify her daughter. Other monarchs might forcibly marry off their daughters to men who they hated with a passion, but the Queen was determined not to do that.
Putting thoughts of raping her firmly out of his mind, as that might jeopardise his mission, he took out his weapon. To the untutored eye it would pass as a flute, and indeed it could play music, but it’s true purpose was a blowpipe. He loaded it with a dart that would cause terrifying hallucinations, took good aim and blew.
Sarah scratched her neck irritably. Damm mosquitoes have no respect for royalty. She looked up at the portrait that her mother had commissioned of her bride to be. Brown eyes, brown hair, a sword at his side, his white horse beside him, he looks all right, and he was one of my childhood friends, but I was only eight years old then, and people change. Why can’t I choose the man I will marry? Most other people can. The middle classes can, since my mother banned forced marriages, and so can the poor, but not the great nobles and certainly not me. She looked at her book again and then looked back at the oil painting. This time the Prince had drawn his sword. I must be so tired I’m seeing things. She looked at her book again and when she looked at the portrait it had changed dramatically.
His horse now lay dead in a pool of blood, his sword blade was red and he had a horrible grin on his face. As she watched, he stepped out of the painting as a 2-D figure, looked at her and raised the blade. She backed away, screamed, and fell out of her bedroom window, where her skull cracked as soon as she hit the ground.
***
Amy, who held the rank of The Princess’s High Constable, saw it happen, and ran to the scene.
Queen Yocasta will have my head for this, that’s if she does not have me bound, gagged and buried alive with her daughter’s body. She dragged the body into the cellar of the Tower and hid it amongst the barrels, locking the door behind her, then washed away the blood and the brains. Thank Inana that it is so late at night and most of the Palace guards, servants and nobility are asleep. All the same, whilst I can in the short term say that the Princess is busy or ill, within days people will know the truth. Tomorrow I will flee. Better to be a beggar and an outlaw if it comes to that, then a dead High Constable.
***
Willow prepared to leave her Tara, but as she turned away she felt the click of padded handcuffs upon her wrists. “Tara, I have to go…” Tara cut her off with a long kiss, her tounge stroking Willow’s, and pulled away.
“Remember when Xander had chapped lips and woulden’t stop picking at them?”
“Yes, and you handcuffed him and chapsticked his lips and kept his hands away until they healed. Look, Tara, I have to go. I enjoy being handcuffed, but not when I have important things to do.” Tara kissed Willow’s lips again, pouted, and unhandcuffed Willow. Willow blew her a kiss and set off to the local Temple of Inana to get her final wedding details sorted out with the priestess. Whilst Queen Yocasta was remarkably tolerant of most faiths, provided their worshippers refrained from breaking the laws, Inana-worship was the State religion of Vallermoore.
***
Amy was riding along in her coach with her daughter and a couple of trusted servants, when she saw the red haired, green eyed girl strolling along the street with a big smile on her face.
She looks so like Sarah! I can dress her in Sarah’s clothes, cast a spell to give her Sarah’s voice, and the Queen will never know what has happened to her daughter. What girl would not want to be a Princess?
She ordered the coach to be stopped and leaned out. “You there? I would like to offer you a job at the Palace.” She took out her badge of office that marked her out as a senior royal servant and member of the gentry.