Chapter Text
This is a tale grown old,
you have seen its like before.
It’s a tale of love and of loss,
and the strict unkind nature of the world.
The strict unkind nature of fools.
And the truth is all men are fools.
Canto I
Love Song
Once there was a prince and a knight who loved him
Once there was a knight and a prince who loved her
And the prince wrote songs in his beloved’s honor
And the knight fought wars beneath her beloved’s banner
And neither of them would say that they loved
The knight thought, within the secret of her heart,
that the prince was beautiful;
the prince with his graceful hands and bright singing,
and his distant, gentlemanly poise.
And the prince thought, within the secret of his heart,
that the knight was beautiful;
with her strong hands and bright smile,
and her fearless, soldierly poise.
But the knight would not allow herself to love,
not when her prince ruled her,
because she had a heart that refused to be ruled,
and the strength of her will was free.
So when her eyes followed him
and her mind followed him
and her heart followed him,
no matter what she willed,
she told herself it was her role to follow him,
and she only followed her duty.
The prince for his part was not clever,
not in the matters of love,
but he knew his own heart well enough.
And he knew that his heart knew that he loved her,
and he could not say how it should stop.
But the prince knew he had no right to pursue her,
Not when she was his sword,
Not when she was his shield,
Not so long as he ruled her.
For he feared that she should obey him
And he feared that she should disobey him
And he knew he was not man but state.
He did not tell his heart no,
But softly he told it to wait.
So the knight and the prince looked long at each other,
in the sunlight and half light, eyes averted, over distances
between spaces of breaths, and through mirrors
in the blinking of chance,
and neither would look at the other direct.
But they had not too much time for love.
War was brewing, dark and angry,
the small land stormed by lands about,
a young prince, new and unaccustomed to ruling,
was as easy prey as could be found.
(A marriage alliance might have saved him from war,
though perhaps not the sovereignty of his crown.
He did not so much as consider it.
He told himself it was because he was too proud.)
The prince’s skills were with words, not warring,
wise in peacetime, but useless at battle.
Much of the plans fell to the prince’s cousin,
a fearless young general of unquestioned mettle.
These two cousins held no love for each other,
of such differing minds and differing wants,
the prince did not approve of his cousin,
with his wild laughter and violent heart.
He thought the cousin uncouth and stupid.
Likewise the cousin disapproved of the prince,
who lived his life in his castle’s tower,
and never stood firm in the world abroad.
He thought the prince was weak and foolish.
But upon one thing these two cousins agreed,
they loved their realm, courageous and free.
So the cousin went out and fought for their land
And the knight fought at the cousin’s right hand
And the prince yearned from afar.
The lords of that time were small in number,
still smaller in wisdom and yet smaller in loyalty,
and the Prince was left with few he could trust.
And as he so often quarreled with his cousin,
and he had no other relations close,
in truth the circle of those he could trust numbered one.
But the knight was of no noble birth.
The child of a soldier, a servant’s daughter,
she had grown up a-tumble in the prince’s castle,
and listened in on lessons and practiced her sword,
until when the old prince died the prince had her knighted,
and wisely and faithfully she had served him since.
But though her skill was great and her faith was sure,
the nobles would hardly listen to her,
they hated enough that the cousin valued her words.
The cousin often sent home letters complaining
Of this lord or that one with more fineness than sense
Of the need for better generals (better yet a better prince)
And all through that the knight was the only leader worth having
“You should marry her,” he sent, “So she’ll have titles and shit.”
It was an offhand comment, spoken in jest,
but at seeing it the prince’s heart thumped in his chest.
Because it was a sensible thing, an obvious course,
and he wanted so desperately, he thought he might break.
It was wrong, he thought, to ask so much,
but then royal marriages were often thus,
and while it might be wrong to ask for himself,
surely for duty, it was unselfish enough.
So the prince wrote his knight a proposal of marriage
And sent it off to the front of battle by carriage
With pomp and gold gilding and bright coats of arms
And the cousin saw it coming and said “holy shit