#tattercloak

(A/N: I don't mind at all! It blows my mind that that fic is still getting new readers.)

Would you enjoy being married to a man you never chose? Being tied to a life with a man who was content to use and be used as a bartering chip? I wasn't.

Killian came to me with an offer of freedom, which was more than my husband ever offered me. Yes, Rummold offered to love, honor, and cherish me on our wedding day. But I never asked for those things. He may have accepted being his father's pawn, but I never did.

A week had passed since the second ball when King Rummold had discovered the identity of the mysterious lady in the beautiful gowns, and he was driving Tattercloak to distraction.  

It had begun innocently enough.  After Bae’s lesson, the king had asked Tattercloak to tarry a while.  Apprehensive that he had pieced together the puzzle of her true identity, each step she took toward him was filled with great trepidation.  But she needn’t have feared; King Rummold had simply wanted to pick her brain about everything she knew about the Queen’s Ring and the laws relating to it.  She tried in vain to put him off, to guide him to Ruby or Gaston for answers to his questions, but he would have none of it.

Rummold scoffed at that.  “If it has naught to do with his reflection or some beast that meets its end at one of his arrows, I doubt Gaston knows the first thing about it,” he muttered.  “And as for Ruby, she doesn’t seem inclined to speak to me.”

Years after the loss of his beloved wife, King Maurice of Avonlea has decided to remarry. The law of the land dictates that the king may only marry the woman who fits the Queen's Ring, a magical artifact that selects the next queen. When his daughter, the lovely Princess Belle, is chosen by the ring, she must flee to another country to escape her unwanted fate. With the help of an arrogant king and his willful son, will Belle be able to take control of her own fate?

Based on the fairy tale "Allerleirauh," and the "Sapsorrow" episode of The Storyteller.

A week passed since the night of the king’s ball, and Tattercloak rather thought she was going mad.

Before that magical evening, Tattercloak had considered her growing friendship and affection for the proud king a natural result of their verbal repartee and their shared love for Bae.  Her only physical impressions of King Rummold were what she could see from under the voluminous hood of her heavy fur cloak: two booted feet, a pair of well-turned calves, and a strong, well-tanned hand gripping the golden head of a cane.  She’d certainly had no designs of any kind on the man who unknowingly kept her safe and hidden from the Blue Fairy’s callous plotting.

Welcome back, my friends.  When last we left our erstwhile princess, she had fled the only home she’d ever known, snatching her freedom from the jaws of a most horrifying fate.  Clad in a patchwork cloak made of the meanest, dirtiest, most ragged furs, with the pack containing her fine dresses making a great hump upon her back, Princess Belle quickly found that life outside the castle was a far cry from the world of privilege and plenty to which she was accustomed.  Without her title, with her beauty concealed by filth and fur and feathers, she found that the people of her kingdom treated her quite differently.  For you see, people are far more inclined to show charity to those who can offer something in return, than to the most hapless beggar who needs kindness the most.

But fear not; for though the princess struggled, and though her troubles were many, she had her wit, and she had her courage.  You will soon find that these qualities are more valuable than any royal title, and not so fleeting or easily hidden as mere beauty.

The gentle buds of spring blossomed in the heat of the summer months, and Belle and Rum’s love bloomed along with them.  Once a month, one monarch would leave the safety of their palace, making the long trek toward the other kingdom where their love eagerly awaited them with open arms.  The journeys were long and arduous, but worth every step taken and every night on the road.  And every time husband and wife were reunited, every time they came back to each other, Belle wore her cloak.

When not in one another’s company, they kept their enchanted mirrors close at hand at all times.  Though the duties of running their respective kingdoms kept them busy throughout the day, the knowledge that they could speak with each other at any time was a source of comfort for them.  

When they weren’t busy meeting with their councilors or granting audience to their subjects, Rum and Belle used their mirrors constantly.  They sought each other’s advice on particularly complicated matters of state, Rum relying on Belle’s sense of justice as much as she relied on his years of experience.  Bae’s lessons with his beloved tutor resumed, and the boy blossomed under the combined care of his father and stepmother.  Once lessons were over, both king and queen would spend the evenings together in their respective libraries, poring over books in the hopes of finding a better solution to the distance that separated them.

Of course!

“There’s still this,” she said softly, holding her hand with the Queen’s Ring aloft.  “My father has abdicated, so I’m no longer expected to marry him.  But… the ring has still chosen me as Avonlea’s queen.  Our kingdoms are so far away, Rum.  I can’t be both Avonlea’s queen and Gildhaven’s.”

“I have the solution to that, sweetheart,” he murmured.  With one hand, he cradled the delicate line of her jaw.  The other slipped down to her left hand, his fingers grasping the exquisite gold filigree wrapped around her finger.  Tilting her chin up, he slowly leaned his head down…