————

The first time I met the princess we were so young it would make sense if neither of us remembered it. My father had made sure my brother and I were scrubbed completely clean and made us work in our fancy clothes, the ones we only wore when we went to visit mama’s family in the city. I was maybe six summers old but big enough to help. My jobs were small but many, any number of small household chores fell under my purview. Plus the overseeing of our youngest guests. You’d be amazed how many people brought their small children to the boarder with them when they got assigned there. On that day though there were no small children in the inn. No children at all in fact. The village children were kept well away from the king, his soldiers, and the guards. Even most of our regular guests didn’t come for dinner. Just Old Alec who used to be an adventurer, but he lives at the inn so I didn’t think he counted.

The king was the first person through the inn doors. Even at six I thought that odd. That he was so sure of himself he didn’t even send a guard in first. I saw Old Alec roll his eyes into his tankard. Then the inn filled suddenly, as though the king had been the stopper to a flood. In my very best clothes I ran between legs serving tankards and pints of ale, soups and stews and racks of our finest meats. My brother, three years my elder, moved between the tables with more grace, nodding and smiling as he took orders and delivered same as me.

Then, at the end of the tidal wave of soldiers and knights, I saw her. A girl maybe half my size, though she looked to have as many summers, small and pale and flanked by three female knights. Notable simply because there were no male knights or guards for her, just those three. As the night wore on I noted that only the other women among the other knights and guards approached the table. Though they didn’t turn away my brother or father when they came to check on them.

The princess ate with poise, dropping not a single drip onto her beautiful golden gown. Despite her poise and the money and time that had clearly gone into her outfit and hair, I remember thinking she looked tired. I found out why later that night.

The king and his people, not just knights and soldiers but also clerks, servants of all stripes, and at least half a dozen minor nobles, took up every single room in the inn. Including my father’s, my brother’s, and mine. My brother opted to sleep in the barn since the night was warm, my father dozed behind the bar in case anyone needed something in the night. I had chosen the kitchen. There was a spot beside the fire place that stayed warm and my bedding made a lovely little nest.

A noise woke me, in the hours of the night where it’s either incredibly early or incredibly late. I found myself instantly annoyed, even with only six summers, because I’d have to be up in only a few hours. Then I heard the noise again. A quiet and immediately cut off whimper. I lifted my head from my nest and found myself staring. The princess, in a nightgown that just barely brushed the tops of her feet, embroidered in silvers and golds that must have cost a fortune just to put a few swirls and drops along the hem of something no one was ever supposed to see, was barefoot, staring around the room with wide eyes. She hadn’t seen me yet, so I took a moment to watch. Her eyes had the tight wideness of a prey animal looking for somewhere to hide.

“Princess.” The word was more of a hiss, and it came from outside. I blinked, quickly sorting through the voices I’d learned. One of the servants I thought, but couldn’t place which one. The princess jumped and put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes scanning the room again, this time falling on my pile of bedding in the corner. Then on me. The voice came again from outside, more irritated this time but still quiet. I knew the sound of someone who was going to be furious when they found her. As her eyes locked on mine I acted, entirely on instinct, same as I would for any of the girls in the village. I lifted the blanket. She flew across the room, faster than I’d thought that she would be, nearly knocking the air out of me as she launched herself into my chest. I was once again struck by how small she was, barely a slip of a girl. I could feel every rib as I wrapped my arm around her. She was trembling.

There was a creak by the back door and I tucked her behind me and under my bedding. Then I lay atop her, trying not to crush her while pretending to sleep. I pulled the blankets back over me just as the door swung open. I heard footsteps padding around for several minutes before they approached. Then the blanket was whipped back. I sat up, blinking blearily up at the servant.

“Pa?” I blinked several times, trying to appear sleep addled, looking towards the window first, then at them. “It’s not light yet, oh, you’re not my pa. I can fetch him if you need?”

The servant appeared first baffled, then their brows pinched together as I began to stand.

“No need, no need.” They shook their head rapidly. “Sorry to disturb you lass. I was searching, well it’s not here, my apologies.”

“Very good ma’am.” I nodded and settled back into my bedding, my back pressing into the bundle that the the princess curled under. I could feel her warmth against my back. “May I have my blanket back?”

“Yes of course.” The servant nodded, handing it back and heading towards the door, muttering to herself. “I could have sworn, but surely not…”

Only once the door was closed and I could no longer hear steps did I get up, stepping on the stool to peer out the window. The little garden behind the inn was empty, the goat asleep in a way he wouldn’t have been if someone were near. I padded back to my bedding.

“They’re gone.” I said quietly. The princess poked her head up out of my blankets. The two simple braids her golden hair was tamed into were barely mussed despite her hiding space. I wondered idly if it was a magic she held. To always look beautiful. “Why are you hiding?”

“I’m running away.” Her chin jutted out when she said it and I had to hide a smile. The whole thing struck me as incredibly funny. Here I’d been scrubbed raw and worked in my nicest clothes just because her dad existed in our space, everything they’d requested we’d found, bartered, and bargained for to provide for them. Yet she was going to run away, in bare feet no less.

“Why?” I managed to croak it out without letting laughter tumble after it.

“I don’t get to do anything but sit and sew and learn my manners and people are Looking at me all the time and I’m hungry and I want to eat sweets.” She crossed her arms and slumped back into pillows.

“Sewings useful though.” I held up the hem of my own nightgown, patched together by the seamstress when I tore it last in exchange for a bucket of goats milk.

“Not the way I have to do it.” Her frown deepened.

“Well, I can’t do nothing bout most of that.” I stood up and dusted off my nightgown, another peek out the window confirmed my guess that the sun was creeping close. The grey of predawn hung over the yard. I skipped back and held a hand down to her. “But I do have an idea about sweets.”

Her frown didn’t lessen but she unpretzeled herself and took my hand. I pulled her up entirely too easily. I wrapped her in my cloak and put my best, warmest boots on her. I tucked my own feet back into my good shoes, even though they were a little too small, and pulled her out the back door. The goat looked up immediately and I tossed him a carrot, he caught it and watched us go without sounding the alarm. He was used to my wanders, most folk in town were. The path to the bakery was short as long as I cut through the seamstress’ yard but it was easy enough to climb the fence and pull the princess up behind me.

The baker didn’t even look surprised when I knocked on her door. She just sighed and let us in.

“I suppose your new friend is the reason the guards are crawling the streets looking all kinds of stressed before the sun is even up then?” Her hands went to her hips and my eyes hit the ground.

“She wanted sweets, you’re the best at sweets.”

“The guards?” The princess squeaked behind me.

“Well let me look at you then.” The baker moved me aside and crouched to look the princess in the face. “You’re such a little thing.”

“My deepest apologies mistress. This was a foolish idea.” The princess’ voice was suddenly very formal and her back straightened as I turned to look at her. “I didn’t want anyone to trouble themselves.”

“My dear you are the only royal child, of course your father’s people will trouble themselves if you’re missing.” The baker said, not unkindly, and ruffled the princess’ hair. “That doesn’t mean I can’t send the two of you back with some sticky buns though.”

I grinned even as the princess turned thoughtful. We ate the sticky buns on the walk back through the yards, I gave her most of mine before we even hit the fence and we washed our hands in the goat’s trough. Sneaking back in was easy enough, the cook was so busy preparing breakfast she didn’t even look over when she heard my voice, just barked out orders. I said father had told me to put my best clothes on again and she sighed back waved me off. I dragged the princess up the servants stair and let her into her room with the master key.

The servant from last night was nowhere to be found, a different and younger servant paced the room. She turned and let out a sigh of relief when she saw the barefooted princess. Then she pointed under the bed with a wink, waved me away, and then opened and closed the door loud enough to draw attention.

Laughter reverberated down through the whole inn when the princess was found sleeping soundly under her bed. The king offered formal apologies for worrying the town with the guards search when they clearly couldn’t even look through a room properly. Despite the laughter and the apology I noted that when they left one of the knights always had a hand on the princess.

————-

Years passed and the memories grew worn around the edges as more and more were made. I learned, alongside my brother, to shoot a bow and wield a spear, being a boarder town we all learned young. The whispers along the road were that war was coming. They were whispers that brought shadows to Old Alec’s eyes and sorrow to others, or something like it.

I had ten summers under my belt the first time the army came through looking for promising young recruits. The whispers of war had grown ever louder. Now there were talks of treaties and allies and knights and soldiers both rode for the boarders. Many of our young men joined them, many of them older brothers of my friends. The army was back not three moons later, then four moons after that.

I had twelve summers under my belt when my brother left against my father’s express wishes. He, with fifteen summers under his, was far from the youngest boy to go, all the young men and many of the older men had gone before him. Old Alec had been gone since before the army came the first time. A canary that in hindsight I should have paid more attention to.

In my thirteenth summer the king once again sent word that he was coming. This time the whole royal family was on their way. We were a stop on their tour of the kingdoms and those surrounding. An embassy was gathering, the messenger who’d run ahead explained between heaving breaths and gulps of water from our well, a last chance to stop the brewing war. I had seen the troops that came back from the boarder. I resisted telling the messenger I was fairly sure war was already here.

They arrived with fanfare this time. The whole royal family along for the ride. The queen stepped out of the carriage on the arm of the king, all grace and stoicism. Then the three princes clambered out, pink in the cheeks, small swords strapped to their sides, hale and joking with one another, each with hair ranging from gold to bronze. The princess followed the three, a fond smile on her face, and my breath caught in my throat. Pale where her brothers were flushed, hair pure spun gold and piled in intricate braids atop her head, and graceful in a gown that must have weighed almost as much as it cost. Not one of them was dressed in travelling clothes.

Once again the inn was full of the king, his family, his knights, and their servants. This time the army who accompanied them camped outside of the village, there was simply no room for them in the inn. Having outgrown the nook by the cooking fire I slept in the loft above their horses. Which was how I heard the king and several of his knights ride out in the early grey light of their second day at the inn. It’s how I heard the king say that before he continued to the embassy he needed to check the situation at the pass, that the queen and children were to stay here with the lady knights, the young bloods, and the squires to wait for his return.

Once they were gone I dropped down into the stables and went through the back door to help the cook finish preparing breakfast for what remained of the royal procession. King or no King there were a lot of them and they still needed to eat. The princes bemoaned the delay, the youngest of them even stomped like a child of many less summers until the queen fixed him with a look that sent shivers up my spine. My father tried to entice the boys with some games of sport since the practise courts stood largely empty these days. Most of the knights and squires went with them. The queen retired back to her room, looking far more sallow than she had the night before. In a corner of the main hall flanked by three lady knights, the princess pulled out some embroidery and settled by the warmth of the fire.

The first three days waiting for the king had passed in much this same manner. It was the evening of the fourth when the princess sat at the bar and spoke to me so passionately about her hopes for lasting peace. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she expounded on the costs of war. I nodded along and didn’t tell her that I knew the costs of war already. Perhaps it was the way her hands danced or the sharp curve of her cheek as she spoke with an energy that didn’t match the slip of a girl I remembered that stilled my tongue. Perhaps it was that I didn’t want to know if she truly didn’t notice that every boy above eleven summers and man below forty, and many above it, was missing from the village. It was only when she spoke of the embassy itself that her hands stilled, that the skin around her eyes tightened. In the silence that followed we could both picture what would happen should the embassy fail. I perhaps with more accuracy than she.

“If things do go wrong at the embassy, what will happen to you?” I don’t know if it was the memory of the slip of a child or that her warm brown eyes still shimmered with unshed tears that loosened my tongue. I flushed immediately as the words landed between us. Glad that the room was so empty that her shadow of knights was at a table rather than within arms reach as they usually were. “I only meant, your brothers spend so much time at the practise courts but you’ve never joined them.”

“The fighting arts are not for princesses to learn, ours is the path of peace.” Her shoulders drew back, then she smiled and inclined her head towards the knights at the table behind her. “In any case I have my own very knights. Besides which the embassy will not fail, the cost of war would be too great on all sides.”

“Sometimes peace requires a sharp shot.” I could have cursed my suddenly loosened tongue but I nodded towards my bow that hung by the door to the kitchen instead. I did manage to avoid saying that, in my experience, those in power rarely weighed the costs of war accurately. They weren’t the ones who paid after all. I directed a smile towards the knights and filled a pitcher with more ale for their table. “Though I’m certain your knights have that covered.”

“We were personally selected by the king.” The eldest of the three knights inclined her head in thanks as I placed the jug on their table.

“Then we surely have no better in the kingdom.” I bowed slightly as they grinned at each other. Clearly my comment had stumbled on a joke of theirs. I retuned to my chores. The princes, squires, and the rest of the knights would be back soon, and hungry no doubt.

After all the rush had passed, once I was taking my turn dozing behind the bar, having told father he needed a proper rest more than I, a noise awoke me. Not the sound of someone coming down the stairs searching for something, but the quiet padding of someone trying to sneak. I opened my eyes to see the princess, soft leather slippers on her feet, in a nightgown just as fancy as the one she’d had as a child if not more so, trying to take my bow off the wall.

“You’ll set off my alarm if you do that.” I said the words quietly, but they carried. She froze, fingers on the wood. “Besides, if you try to string it improper you’ll break it.”

“I didn’t, that is, I just…” She gently let go of my bow, jaw working as she tried to find the right words. While I waited I stood and dusted myself off. I hadn’t changed out of my usual outfit of breeches and loose linen shirt. I shook out a new apron and donned it as she took a step towards me. “I have always been told a princess values peace too highly to learn the fighting arts, but I cannot get your words out of my head.”

“I wasn’t the one making speeches.” I smiled, trying to buffer the way the words had dropped like stones from my mouth.

“Practised words, based on study and book learning.” She waved her hands again as she spoke, brow furrowing as she searched again for the things she wanted to say. I wondered, not for the first time, if her inability to look anything less than beautiful was some kind of magic. “I have read a lot of books, listened to a lot of tutors and knights and scholars, but you, when you speak it hold weight.”

“Princess,” I started and then spread my hands, “I don’t know what that means.”

“You have experience in things I’ve only heard of.” She gestured out, passed the walls of the village towards the boarder. “I haven’t been out of the capital, I’ve barely been out of the castle, since I was a child. My mother-”

There was a moment of silence while she chewed on her lip, staring at the floor, and I examined her. “She’s sick isn’t she?”

“She’s been sick for a long time.” The admission fell from her lips in less than a whisper. The princess’ gaze moved from the floor to some place over my shoulder, a point in the distance I couldn’t see. “I, there were three pregnancies before my brother was born. Two more before the twins. I wasn’t sure they’d survive until their naming day, I wasn’t sure mother would. There have been pregnancies since, I don’t know how many, mother rarely leaves her rooms at the castle.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.” I whispered. This felt like secrets, felt like something I wasn’t supposed to know.

“Who else can I tell?” She finally looked at me, met my light eyes with her dark ones. “My brothers are too young, and even if they were older I cannot be the one to burden them, the staff know and cannot speak of it, and father will not hear talk of it. Mother is always simply getting over a chill, on the precipice of health.”

“Why did you come down here?” I asked, near desperate to hear no more secrets, no more things that I could be killed to learn, or killed because I knew.

“You said that sometimes peace requires a sharp shot.” She seemed to grow, pulling herself up from the desperate state she’d gotten into. “I cannot rely on my knights for everything, Chosen though they may be by my Father the King.”

“You want to learn to shoot?” The laughter was back, though it felt more like hysteria this time around.

“I want to be able to do something.”

“Okay.” I unhooked my bow from the wall and headed for the back door. “Sun wont be up for hours, gives us plenty of time as long as your knights are deep sleepers.”

“They should be.” There was a tone in the princess’ voice that made me glance back but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to know.

I led her to my target out just past the garden, oiled my bow, strung it, and showed her how to draw it. Then had her do the same, watched and corrected until she had the motions correct before I gave her an arrow. By the time the grey of predawn made it hard to see the target she could hit it three times out of five. No where near a bullseye, but not terrible. With practise she might even get good.

“Princess.” This was no whisper. It was the calm command of someone who was used to being listened to.

We both turned to see the eldest of her lady knights standing in the garden. For a moment the princess’ chin stiffened. Then the moment passed and she handed me my bow. It was only as she followed her knight into the castle that I realized her shoulders had relaxed when it was just the two of us. A thing I noticed only as I watched them stiffen, as though there was a weight on them she couldn’t quite carry.

I rejoined cook for the breakfast preparation. A good thing too as the sounds of her father and his knights thundering into the village reached my ears. The day was a flurry of activity. The next, and last, time I saw the princess’ face was looking out the carriage window as they rode for the boarder. It was a sight I’ll never forget, though I’m certain the princess did not see me. Tears streamed down her face. The rest of her body held in a terrible sort of stillness, stiller than I’d ever seen anyone. It was the moment that convinced me there was a magic in the princess. Tears streaming down her face, eyes ringed red, as still as death, she was still the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

When the news that the embassy had failed reached us, only days later, all I could think about was the princess. She dominated my thoughts for the better part of a fortnight. I took my first real breath of air only when the news reached us that the king, princess, and princes, had made it back to the kingdom to prepare for war. The queen having been slain during the embassy. I never found out if that was before or after the peace talks had failed.

After that the army came again. They took any man able to walk and carry a weapon, and many of the women. Only the mothers of young children or those with a business to run were left behind. I took over the inn in my father’s absence. An easier shift than I’d thought it would be. I’d already been doing the bookkeeping for years, ever since my father’s eyesight had started to go. That hadn’t stopped the army from taking him. As they left I remembered the princess, her dancing hands and wet eyes, talking about the costs of war.

————-

The war lasted longer than even the oldest of our elders thought it would. Ir lasted long enough that the army came through again twice more, gathering the boys who had gained enough summers to qualify. Everyone worked in those long hard years, bringing in harvests, mending clothes, cooking meals, or minding the smallest babies as they grew into children. I led hunting parties out into the woods with girls half my age. Nearly everyone moved into the inn by the second year, the fighting close enough on the boarder that some days we could hear it in the village. Those nights were the loudest at the inn. Every woman who could sing or play filled the place with music. Everyone who could brought something in for the stew and everyone was fed.

We started a watch along our walls during the nights. It was a better wall than most villages had but at fifteen summers it barely reached my bust. Ever so slowly those too hurt to continue fighting trickled back through our town, staying overnight often in the few empty rooms we had at the inn, none of them ours. None of us knew if that was a good sign or ill.

Then the war ended. None of us in our village heard why or how or even what it had been for. But we fed and watered the messenger who had been sent to spread word along the boarder. Swapped his exhausted horse for one of our sturdy mountain ponies. A tad slower but our tales of horses with broken legs on the trails to the pass persuaded him.

Slowly, our men and woman came back. Some of them in boxes, some of them afoot, none of them the same as they’d left. The village filled up again, the inn emptied as people went back to their homes. Old Alec was the last to come home. Old Alec with new scars and two pine boxes that made my breath catch in my throat. He helped me bury them out back, behind my target. I cried and he held my hand and told me they were heroes, that the reason half the people who came back survived was because they saved them. That in the last days of war my brother and father had organized the retreat that saved our friends and put themselves at the back, stood between our neighbours and those who still attacked.

————-

The ebb and flow of time carried me along. There were books to balance, people to feed, rooms to clean and rent out, staff to hire. Cook came back, the boy who cleaned our stables didn’t, nor did the woman who’d helped with the cleaning. Old Alec sat in his usual place by the fire, I kept his tankard full and refused his coin. He began fixing and building things around the inn and refusing mine.

Before I knew it I had twenty long summers under my belt and nearly everyone in town simply thought of me as The Innkeeper. It wasn’t that my father and brother were forgotten, but time had moved on without them. That winter blew in early and hard, before many of the crops were brought in. It was the bitterest winter anyone could remember. Even the wolves in the woods began to thin. I opened the inn doors wide. Anyone who needed a room could have one, pay what they could or even if they couldn’t. Many who remembered the war met my eyes, they remembering the same long nights I did, they understood. Donations of food came in drips and drops. Farmers herded their sheep and cattle into the tall walls Old Alec had helped build around my inn, into the stables that once housed warhorses. Their children giggled and ran underfoot, warm for the first time in weeks.

As the worst winter storm we’d ever weathered blew in I was certain that my whole village was packed into the inn, multiple families to a room, tumbles of children piled into beds together. The night had been long but the last few had been sent, or carried, to their rooms. My staff had been sent to their beds. I was just about to settle onto the pallet behind the bar when I heard the knock on the door. It was soft enough I nearly wrote it off as wind. Would have written it off except it came again, barely louder than before.

I pulled my cloak around my shoulders, even opening the door would let in air frigid enough to freeze. As I pulled it open I froze, sure as if the wind had settled into my bones in an instant. Standing on my doorstep was a young woman, no more summers under her belt than I had certainly, a bare slip of a woman, thin enough her cheekbones jutted. Dirty golden hair was tied back in a plait that was fraying at the edges. She wore a cloak that was not nearly warm enough for the weather, over a dress that was almost certainly meant to look like a townie dress. It was just as clearly not, despite the places where it was patched with cheaper, stiffer cloth. There was a bow on her back and a quiver hanging on her hip with a half a dozen arrows left in it. Her boots were clearly just as expensive, but solid sturdy things, despite the layer of frozen road grime. Warm brown eyes over a sharp smile.

“My name is Marigold, I’m looking for a job.” Her voice was barely louder than the wind that blew over the wall into my yard. I blinked and then pulled her through the door and latched it shut. She squeaked and I had to bite back a laugh.

“It’s much too cold to have that conversation in a doorway.” I said with a small smile and drew her to a chair by the fire. I coaxed the flames back up, an easy task considering I’d only just banked it. “Let me take your cloak, I’ve hooks here for it to dry and there’s stew out back I can warm for you.”

“I’m looking for a job, not-”

“This isn’t charity.” I cut her off, if she was going to pretend not to be a princess I’d treat her as such. “This is my inn and it’s the worst winter we’ve seen in memory. You’ll hand me your cloak, which I’ll hang by the fire, I’ll get stew for you and tea for us both because you’ve been on the road and a meal is called for. Then we can discuss if I’ve positions available.”

“I…” She trailed off, jaw working for a moment in an expression I’d seen in my memories so many times. Then she took her cloak off and handed it to me, sinking into the chair beside the fire.

I moved slow as I hung her cloak, giving her time if there were words she wanted to say. Then, when no words seemed to be forthcoming, I moved to the kitchen, the pot of stew had hardly cooled yet and it was easy to warm on the same fire I set kettle took to boil. I gathered a tray, mugs, the pot of tea I filled just as the kettle began to whistle, and a bowl of stew for my new guest. By the time I sank into the chair across from her I already knew my answer but I waited until after she’d finished eating.

“So, Marigold, you’re looking for a job?” I raised my eyebrows slightly.

“I am, I came from the capital.” Her voice didn’t stumble. “My position there no longer worked for me. I wished for something new and have been travelling ever since, looking for a new job.”

“It’s a long way to travel, just for a job.” I couldn’t stop the smile from playing on my lips. “Especially in winter.”

She glanced down at her empty bowl for a moment before putting it on the table. Her jaw was going again. “I had actually been planning to cross the boarder. Until I found this village.”

“The crossing are all well closed this time of year, blocked by the snow and ice. Will be likely for many moons.” I didn’t try to call her eyes back to mine, as much as I wanted to. “Lucky for you I’ve been needing an extra set of hands around the inn. The job comes with a bed and meals if you need them, and some pay of course, though I can’t afford much at the moment. In the spring we can discuss if you want to stay or continue across the boarder.”

“A bed and meals would be plenty.” Marigold’s eyes still hadn’t risen from the bowl.

“You’ll need the pay for other things, clothes for instance, supplies to see you safely over the boarder if you chose to go come spring.” I said the words gently, though not unkindly. “For now though I have some old things you might fit, if you’ve nothing other than what you’re wearing.”

“I’m not sure…”

“I might be a fair bit bigger than you are now but I wasn’t always.” I stood and stretched, my back popping in a way it always did when I’d gone too long without laying down. “I’ve a few dresses and breeches from my youth you can try in the morning. For the moment though a nightgown and a bed I think.”

Marigold reached out suddenly, catching my wrist. Brown eyes half wild as they met mine. “Are you sure?”

“I really could use the extra hands.” The words fell softly as I turned my wrist so I could clasp hers in turn. I knew, bone deep, that was not what she was asking. In the years since I last saw her fear had etched itself into the lines of her face, fresh blisters and callouses covered her once lily soft palms, and she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

There was only one room left and it was the room at the back of the inn I’d inherited from my father. It was small, barely fitting the bed and chest of drawers I kept there. A mirror was perched on the chest and beside it lay a sketch of my father and brother and I. Marigold stopped in the doorway. Her eyes had landed on the sketch.

“Oh, I couldn’t-”

“Nonsense.” I pulled her into the room, gesturing her towards the bed while I opened the drawer I’d started putting my too small clothes into when I found I couldn’t bear part with them. I pulled out a nightgown for her as I continued. “The rest of the rooms are full of the farm and town folk, and I spend most nights on my pallet in the main room anyway. In case I’m needed.”

“I, you do not, its…” Her eyes were fixed on the nightgown I’d pressed into her hands, a bit of rose rising on her sharp cheeks.

“It’s the hardest winter yet, nothing good comes of being stingy with what I can afford to give.” My hands fidgeted as I refused to let them reach out to her. Scared and small though she was I didn’t want to add to it. “Get some rest, we can talk about your job in the morning.”

The next day I left Cook in charge of the rest of the staff and had Marigold follow me as I assessed which jobs she had any skill at. Each task I assigned her she did with great determination and very little skill. I slowed down and showed her each step, teaching her the skills I’d had to learn as a small child. Forcing myself not to laugh as her hands, so much longer than mine had been at the time, made the same mistakes.

Each adult we encountered flicked their eyes from her face to my eyes I as I explained that she was Marigold, a traveller who’d come seeking work. None of them said the words that stood so obvious in their throats.

————-

The days wore on, as they are wont to do. The harsh and bitter winter slowly lost its grip and faded into the wet and warm of spring. Marigold got better at the tasks I assigned to her, began to help with the bookkeeping, finding little jobs in the kitchen to make Cook’s job easier, started helping the youngsters that roamed through town learn their letters and numbers. Marigold stayed in my room, I stayed on my pallet. The dress Marigold came in vanished and she took to wearing breeches and loose shirts. Eventually our days settled into a routine. All the little things that needed to be done to keep the inn running smoothly filling our days. Most afternoon the children of the village would gather around the fire for Marigold’s lessons. Bookkeeping was done one evening a week, The other evenings we spent talking, practising bow and spear, or reading from my small collections of books.

Somewhere in the steady beat of routine I stopped retiring to my pallet, staying instead beside Marigold in my bed. The inn slowly cleared out as farmers took their livestock back to their farms and the villagers trickled back into their own homes. Travellers started reappearing as the passes opened once more to the most foolhardy.

As the last of the snows melted away Marigold took a pair of sheers to her braid, flushed and frustrated with the time it took to comb and tame. I found her surrounded by hair in the garden. Holding back a laugh I pulled a smaller pair from my apron, brushed the hair from her thin shoulders and tided it into something manageable. When I was done her waves hung just below her ears and her grin was wider than I’d ever seen it.

Summer came again, as it always does, warming the fields which in turn pulled children away from their lessons with Marigold and back to the work of weeding and harvesting. The inn got busier too, the relaxing evenings we’d had in the winter gave way to rollicking evenings at the tavern as caravans, travellers, and the steady stream of soldiers that summer always brought once again appeared. Music and life filled the tavern. The occasional band of adventurers that always had Old Alec shaking his head a little fondly and a little sadly. Their evenings filled up with washing tankards, wiping down tables, and restocking the bar from their cellar as travellers slowly staggered up to their rooms.

One such night, unremarkable in any other way, Marigold, who the town had taken to calling Mari, or occasionally Goldy, was particularly quiet. Her face had gone quiet and somber and thoughtful in a way I had seen a handful of times. We were standing shoulder to shoulder as I wiped down the tankards and she replaced them on their shelf. I waited her out. I had gotten much better at silence, even around her.

“I, uhm, that is to say,” she started slowly, eyes flicking to me without turning her head. “…you should know… that is…”

“It’s okay princess.” I said it quietly, turned towards her as she spun to face me, eyes wide as a startled deer. Nervous silence greeted my words as she started to tremble. I put the tankard I was wiping down and held my hands out to her. “It’ll be okay.”

Marigold, to my great surprise, stepped between my outstretched hands to tuck herself under my chin. Her words were whispered into my collarbone. “They’ll come for me eventually.”

“Let them come.” I wrapped my arms around her, holding her trembling form against me, letting her hear my steady breath and racing heart. After a few moments she pulled back, just far enough to see the soft smile I had only for her, and her breath caught. One of my hands moved from her back to cup her cheek.

“Are you sure?” Marigold’s whisper was for my ears alone.

“As anything.” I pressed our forheads together, She pressed our lips together. The remaining tankards went uncleaned until morning.

————-

It took them three more summers to come to our little village in their search for the missing princess. Long enough for the village to become used to Marigold running the inn with me. Long enough for her hands to grow as calloused as mine were. Long enough for us to marry one spring when the garden was blooming and the rising warmth got to my head. Long enough that when they asked around no one would have thought to point to the inn for any reason other than I saw every face that passed through this village.

But could you blame him? Kokichi was his rival! The one who pushed him to do better and aim higher! So of course he would rise to any challenge the other boy posed to him, especially if the other was insistent that he couldn’t do it. The others could roll their eyes and call him impulsive or reckless or whatever they wanted; it never bothered him.

Well, it bothered him one time.

When they were talking about his and Kokichi’s relationship.

That definitely wasn’t an impulse, no matter what the rest of their classmates thought. That was a result of communication and compromise and learning to understand the other and trust built on months and month of work. There was nothing impulsive about the two being together for as long as they had and keeping their relationship strong.

Now, was yelling his confession at Kokichi in the middle of an argument impulsive? Maybe. And was dragging the other boy into a kiss when those same feelings were shouted back at him also impulsive? Probably!

And the fact that the two of them were currently hiding in a dark janitor’s closet while trying to catch their breath from running? Okay, that was definitely impulsive. But dammit how was he supposed to just let Kokichi taunt him about never pulling a “real” prank before? The shorter boy did them all the time, how hard could they be?

Turns out the answer was not very hard at all. It was the getting away part that took some extra effort.

Kaito sighed and leaned against one of the walls of the small closet, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. It was pitch black, no light even from under the door. His hand went to his pocket but found it empty, his phone forgotten in his room when he ran after Kokichi. He heard the other boy lean against the door near him, fits of giggles mingling in with his pants as he tried to catch his breath as well.

“I… told you it… was easy!” he huffed out and Kaito could practically hear the grin in his voice. He felt a hand brush his arm before patting his shoulder a few times. “And you were a natural! I knew you would be; some of my natural talent for pranks had to rub off on you eventually. I bet D.I.C.E. will be thrilled when I tell them—“

“Yeah yeah tell them we pulled it off, they’ll be so proud,” Kaito cut him off, lowering his voice. “But aren’t we trying to lay low and, y’know, not be found right now?”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru was definitely not his first choice for a prank target, especially considering his boyfriend was in one of the scariest biker gangs in the city. But unfortunately Kokichi was very much a go big or go home person when it came to pranks, and he certainly wasn’t about to let Kaito back down from it either. So after a bit of planning and preparation, the astronaut’s first attempt at a prank was a success.

Well, it would be after he knew they were safe from the angry hall monitor. Who knew he could run so fast?

“It’s fiiiiine, we totally lost him by now,” the supreme leader explained, voice still its normal volume. “I hide in closets like this all the time, not even Kiyotaka would think to look for us here!”

“I guess…” It was unnerving not being able to see the boy next to him with how close together they were. Kaito wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, but it didn’t mean he was completely comfortable. “Can’t we find a different spot then? Or loop back to our dorms?”

He heard Kokichi scoff. “And risk getting caught? That’s the first place he’ll look for us.” He paused for a moment and Kaito was ready to speak again before the other boy went on. “Buuuut if my dear Kai-chan is scared then I guess I can come to his rescue and find us a better spot!”

“Not scared!” he asserted, clenching his fist. But if it got them out of the closet then he’d suffer through the teasing. Kokichi laughed and Kaito heard the door knob jiggle, but the door didn’t open. He sighed. “C’mon Kichi let us out of here.”

“Uhhh, yeah…” He felt his heart sink as he heard the door knob jiggle again and heard the leader slam his body into it but no light to signal the door was opening at all. “Sooo uh.”

“No…”

“I’ve never hid in this specific closet before...”

“Don’t tell me….”

“Aaaand the door’s not budging. SO. Guess we learned this door locks from the outside!”

Kaito groaned and buried his face in his hands, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. This couldn’t be happening. He felt Kokichi plop down next to him, bumping their shoulders together.

“Welp. Looks like we’ll be here for a while.”

-----

“I spy…”

“—Kichi.”

“With my little eye…”

“Kokichi.”

“Somethiiiing purple!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, you can’t see anything in here.”

“Of course I can! I can see in the dark you know.”

Kaito sighed and rested his head on the wall behind him, Kokichi following suit and leaning his head back against the astronaut’s chest. It hadn’t been long before the smaller boy was complaining about how uncomfortable it was being cramped in a closet and decided that his boyfriend’s lap was much more comfy. Kaito hadn’t complained; for one it would keep Kokichi happy and hopefully put a stop to the whines. But it was also nice to just be able to hold the other boy for a bit. Kokichi was finicky about physical affection and it was rare for him to be the one to initiate it. So when an opportunity presented itself he certainly wasn’t going to say no.

“Really now?” he asked sarcastically, gently squeezing the leader’s midsection. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with the lies. “This is the first time you’ve told me about it.”

“Well you never asked me about it!” Kaito snorted at how offended he sounded. “I have to keep some secrets from you, it adds to my mysterious evil charm.”

“You’ve got some kinda charm alright,” he agreed, rolling his eyes even though he definitely knew the other couldn’t see. “So you can see anything in this room? Right now?”

“That’s what I said Kai-chan!”

Kaito couldn’t hold back a grin as he raised one arm to hold up a finger in front of Kokichi’s face. “Then how many fingers am I holding up right now?”

“That’s an easy one! It’s—“ He felt the other boy reach forward and grab his hand, grin turning into a full blown smirk when he heard the gasp the signaled the leader had figured out which finger he was holding up. “Kai-chan! Flipping your boyfriend the bird when he can’t even see it! The nerve! The gall!” Kaito couldn’t even reply, laughing so hard he doubled over and rested his forehead against Kokichi’s shoulder. Kokichi tried to keep up the offended act but it was only a few more moments before he joined in on the laughter, lacing their fingers together as he leaned his head on Kaito’s.

Their laughter filled the closet for a few more minutes, eventually dying down to a few scattered giggles and then into comfortable silence. Kaito sighed as he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to Kokichi’s hair before leaning back into the wall. He heard the other boy hum softly before he spoke again. “You didn’t give me a guess.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow. “A guess for what?”

“For I Spy! I spied something purple and you have to guess what it is!”

He chuckled as he gave their joined hands a squeeze. “I know you can’t actually see anything.”

“It counts if I know that something purple is in here!”

Of course he would have some sort of work around rule. He was the supreme leader after all. Kaito hummed in thought, mind going over anything purple he could think of. One item stood out, the most likely option. “Is it my coat?”

“Ding ding ding! Correct!” Kokichi cheered, and Kaito felt a hand reach back to pat him on the cheek. He lifted a hand to playfully bat it away. “The answer was Kai-chan’s stupid space coat!”

“I know you don’t actually think it’s stupid,” he countered, arm going back to wrap around the other boy. “You know you like my awesome coat.”

Kokichi made a noise of disgust. “Awesome? No. Definitely not. It’s stupid and lame and definitely not comfortable at all,” he asserted, shaking his head. “And super tacky. Who even wears galaxy print anymore?”

Kaito just smiled and unwrapped his arms from the other boy, leaning forward slightly as he shrugged said coat off of his shoulder. Hoping he wasn’t going to hit the other in the darkness, he swung it around in front of Kokichi, draping it over him like a blanket.

The reaction was immediate; Kaito’s smile softened as his boyfriend made a happy sound, tugging the coat around him and snuggling into it. The astronaut wrapped his arms around him again, feeling Kokichi wiggle and adjust before placing his hands on top of his and lacing their fingers together again, feeling the coat’s cuffs brush against his wrists. He must have stuck his arms through the sleeves, effectively wearing the coat backwards and still being wrapped up in it. Kaito chuckled as the smaller boy relaxed against his chest, letting out a content sigh. “See? Totally not comfy at all.”

He hummed in agreement, placing another kiss on the top of Kokichi’s head. He rested his head against the wall and let his eyes slip shut, enjoying the peaceful quiet before his boyfriend eventually thought of something new to entertain himself again.

-----

They were halfway through one of their usual arguments when a quiet knock on the closet’s door surprised both of them. They had been in there so long that Kaito had almost forgotten that they were stuck. A familiar voice followed the knock. “Hello? Is someone in there?”

“Occupied! Come back later!” Kokichi called before Kaito even had a chance to reply. He huffed and moved to stand up, dragging the other boy with him.

“No wait, don’t leave! Kiibo it’s us, let us out!” he yelled, praying the robot hadn’t already walked away. He did have the unfortunate habit of taking anything the liar said seriously. Thankfully he heard the door knob turn and the door swung open, light pouring in and revealing a confused Kiibo staring at them both.

“Why are you two hiding in a janitor’s closet?” he asked, stepping to the side so the pair could finally leave the small room. “We’ve been looking for you all afternoon.”

“Well it’s—“

“It’s our way of coming out of the closet!” Kokichi interrupted him, throwing his arms in the air excitedly, Kaito’s coat still backwards on his arms. “We’re gay, Keeboy!”

All Kiibo could do was blink at him. “But. I already knew that. You’re very explicit about it actually—“

“Because we ARE and we’re PROUD and we’re not gonna let a ROBOT tell us otherwise--!”

Kaito sighed and began pushing his boyfriend away. “We just got stuck is all. Thanks for letting us out, man, we’re gonna head back to the dorms,” he explained, giving a small wave behind him. “Tell the others not to worry.”

“Ah, alright then! I’m glad that the two of you are okay!” he heard Kiibo call after them, nodding and intending to give Kokichi an earful about picking better places to hide after pranks. Until of course, the robot called out again.

“Oh! And Kiyotaka was looking for you both too!”

“I am Groot!” He snapped as he stormed back onto the ship just as the rest of them were finishing dinner, the GalacticbucksTM cap and apron were tossed into the nearest corner as he stormed straight to his room. 

This was becoming a regular occurrence since Rocket and Quill had ganged up together, with Gamora’s prodding, and convinced Groot he needed to get a job. In everyone’s defence at the time it had seemed like a good idea. He was a teenager, and a particularly moody one at that, they’d just assumed he would like the extra cash the job would provide him as much as they’d like not having to tell him twelve times to clean his room because he was just Sitting There. The GalacticbucksTM had scooped him up quick, minimum wage workers who could lift more than three workers combined were in low supply it seemed.The first week had gone well enough, Groot was almost downright chatty when he came home from his first couple shifts. 

“I am Groot!” He’d nodded enthusiastically as Rocket, between bouts of laughter, translated the story of the look on his manager’s face when a lady had just watched as her child methodically opened twenty sugar packets and poured them out slowly on the table. “I am Groot!”

“He says the kid thought it was quite artistic!” Rocket knocked himself off his chair. “The manager disagreed!”

Then about a week and a half in Groot had caught one of his fingers in a drawer, leaving a large slow healing bruise that he favoured for days. It had gone rapidly downhill after that. In favouring his hand he’d managed to burn both the pot of coffee he was supposed to be making and then his elbow on the hot plate he’d been moving it off of. The day after that a customer had stood at his till refusing to leave or speak until he asked what they wanted and no amount of his manager’s explanations would convince the person that Groot couldn’t say those words specifically. 

So here they were nearly two weeks after the first injury and nearly every shift Groot came home either annoyed or slightly hurt. Both Quill and Rocket looked worriedly after Groot once he’d stormed past. 

“You worry to much. Injury is good for the body, makes you stronger.” Drax reached over and patted Quill’s shoulder so hard he nearly knocked him over. 

“According to most people I’ve asked this is a perfectly normal reaction to a job.” Gamora waved a hand. “So congrats boys, you’re raising a perfectly normal teenage boy.”

“See you’re saying something reassuring but your tone…” Quill trailed off as Rocket stood up and walked off towards the kitchen.

“Well normal teenage boys grow up to be normal men so you can see my problem.” Gamora raised an eyebrow as she stood up and Quill had the distinct feeling she was talking about him. 

“No?” He tried but she just rolled her eyes and walked away leaving Quill and Drax to finish the cleanup from dinner. 

The next day after Groot’s shift something damn near miraculous happened, not only was Groot not in a bad mood, he seemed quite cheerful. Practically singing as he grabbed a snack and headed to his room. “I am Groot, Groot, I am Groot!”

“That, that was just straight nonsense.” Rocket frowned as he watched Groot’s door close. “Those weren’t even words!”

When this happened again for the next three shifts Quill and rocket cooked up a plan to figure out what was going on. Gamora disapproved calling them things like childish and idiotic, and Drax didn’t understand why they couldn’t just ask Groot what had changed. So of course they left both on them on the ship. 

First things first though they’d changed into disguises once Groot had headed off to work. Rocket wearing what appeared to be a labcoat with large black boots, and a top hat, and Quill wearing pretty much what he always wore along with a snapback, a fake mustache, and sunglasses. Now that they were properly disguised they headed off the ship and down the boardwalk towards the GalacticbucksTM. 

They walked in, ordered some plain coffees from the nice girl with purple hair behind the counter and settled into the corner booth with the best view of the place. For the large part of their stakeout nothing entirely out of the ordinary happened. They kept a running tally of the number of people who paid entirely to much for basic tea and water, the number of kids who got up to something entirely ridiculous, and the number of people who seemed to be going out of their way to make the lives of the poor kids behind the counter harder. One particularly irate guy in a suite sent his latte back four times because he didn’t think it was made correctly and there was a lady who asked for exactly 25 sugar packets and preceded to carefully pour each one individually into her coffee and stir it while blocking the entire counter with her stroller so no one could get through. None of that however explained Groot’s unusually good mood. 

None of it that is until the pretty looking alien with flowering vines for hair walked in and ordered some cold sweet whipped thing that Quill was fairly certain would give most humans cavities just from looking at it. She perched at a table near the counter and pulled out a book she was just about halfway done reading. 

“Look it that.” Rocket elbowed Quill and pointed behind the counter. Where only moments ago Groot had been frowning he was now practically skipping while he made drinks.

“Oh I opt out.” Quill put his finger on his nose. 

“What?” 

“I’m not the one dealing with his first heartbreak, no thank you.” Quill finished up his coffee and ditched the cup. 

“And how do you think I’m going to manage it?” Rocket followed him out.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you’re the dad after all.”  Quill shot finger guns at him with a grin. Maybe this whole job thing was going to be good for Groot after all.

no, sukuna ryomen would rather show you. with the way he folds you into the position he wants, large hands splayed over your flesh, gripping your ass from behind as you arch, pulling you onto his cock as you mewl and babble incoherently into the sheets.

sukuna ryomen who uses his four arms to the fullest, holding you in place and absolutely ruining you as he fucks deep into you, using his grip on you to grind your hips against him. he let's you lay there, pliant and fucked out, just as long as you keep taking it - taking him.

sukuna ryomen who loves watching the way your ass bounces against his thighs as he fucks you harder, eyes locked on the way the flesh ripples with each movement. his hands only tighten on your hips, dragging you faster over his cock, bouncing you a little harder just to see your body move against him.

sukuna ryomen who's definitely a sadist, he thinks, when one of his hands instinctively lands a sharp smack on your ass, loving the way the impact ripples over your skin while he fucks you. and when he feels you clench impossibly tighter around him? when he feels like you're trying to milk every drop out of him before he's even cumming? well, he decides he'll just have to stuff you full, give you what your body clearly wanted so desperately.

sukuna ryomen who flips you over promptly, with no warning, making you squeak in surprise and widen your eyes, hands clinging to his arms as wet lashes flutter up at him once you land flat on your back. and then he's pushing your legs up to your chest, hands under your knees and folding you into the meanest mating press. and then he sinks his cock back into you and your eyes roll back, a successful distraction from the way his eyes stare at your tits all smushed together now, then trail down to your cute lil tummy, not missing the way your thighs pressed against your torso and seemed to double in size.

sukuna ryomen who leans down to bite your lip before capturing them in a sloppy kiss - almost as sloppy as the way he was fucking into you. he kisses you hard, and it's messy, rough, just like him. but when he's pulling away for a breath, he's huffing against your lips and holding back a groan at the way your sweet lil cunt keeps sucking him back in eagerly.

"g'nna fill you up, yeah?" he grunts, slamming deep into you. "wanna see if i can make those hips fuller, that tummy round."

and you're nodding and babbling yes and please, too cockdrunk and in love to protest.

"fuck - that's it. 'f course you'll take it for me. you'd look so pretty with my heir," he groans, as if the mental image itself would kill him right there.

sukuna ryomen who knows he's a goner when you just keep whining for his cum - his babies, you say - fucked too dumb to want anything else. and who is he to deny you? you, his pretty little consort, the future mother of his children.

sukuna ryomen who uses one of his hands to play with your swollen clit, wanting - no, needing - to make you cum one more time first. and you're whining and squirming in his arms, overstimulated and all too sensitive, cervix being battered over and over with his cock while his thumb rubbed eagerly at your clit. with the number of times you'd already cum and the way sukuna was restlessly pounding into you now, you didn't need much before your body twitched, clenching tight and pulsing around his cock as you cum, gushing onto his abs and shuddering as you feel him fuck you through it, following suit a moment later.

sukuna ryomen whose hips finally slow, not fully to a stop, not yet, as his cum hits your cervix, flooding deep inside your cunt and filling you up until you're leaking his cum.

sukuna ryomen who shoves a pillow under your hips and buries his cock inside you entirely, claiming it was better that way, that it needed to take. he's pressing a kiss to your temple despite the way his thick cock is still splitting you open, aftershocks making your sensitive cunt flutter around him. and you're too far gone to hear the promise he makes, that he was going to fill you up again and again till he was sure it took.

sukuna ryomen needed to see you all filled out and glowing with his kid, after all. it was only right that the king of curses had an heir.