Chapter Text
When Felicity Smoak was a small girl, she had always dreamt of what lay in the forest outside her kingdom. From her perch in the arched window of her chambers, she would gaze at the treeline, far out of reach, and wonder of the creatures that lived in its depths. Were there caves that housed dragons hoarding golden treasures? Trees alive with elves so tiny they could dance from leaf to leaf? Lakes where mermaids dwelled, singing a mournful siren's call?
Sadly, her duties never allowed her to venture from the high, stone walls of her kingdom. Her mother often complained that her head was filled with silly dreams when she ought to be thinking of far more serious affairs. She was a princess, and she needn't think of adventure when her life was already so blessed. Born to a king, she was raised with only the best; feather-filled beds, glittering jewelry, and the most stunning of gowns. Most of all, she was honored with the title of princess. Though these were lovely things and she never lacked in appreciation, Felicity rarely enjoyed them as she thought a princess should, nor she did feel she properly fit what the title demanded of her. Of course, she had few to share this worry with. Few, but not none.
When Felicity was just a baby, she was given a guard.
John Diggle, the strongest man in all the court, both of heart and will, was asked to keep her safe.
A man of barely twenty summers, he had seen a number of battles already, seasoned in the art of war and the cruelty of man. He had pledged his sword to the king, taking a knee as young as fourteen, and he spent six loyal years proving himself. When he was brought to his new charge, he had scoffed at first. What a pathetic job for so accomplished a man. But as he set eyes on the tiny, squirming babe, swathed in midnight blue fabric, his heart, stone since he was but a boy, softened. For the first time since he had watched a group of soldiers burn his village to the ground, his brother dying under the swing of a sword as he meant to save John from that very fate, he had not known happiness, only purpose.
"Her name is Felicity," Queen Victoria informed him. "She will be your only duty, Knight. Have I your word on that?"
He frowned as he stared down into the cradle. Her skin was a mottled red, tiny sniffles leaving her as she moved about, desperate for attention or milk. John reached out to her, his large hand settling on the edge of the wooden cradle, and slowly, very slowly, he outstretched a finger toward her, letting it rest atop her soft belly. He could feel her breaths, tiny little inhales. And then her hand, so very small, touched his, wrapping around his finger and squeezing. And her eyes, young and innocent and full of life, met his.
"I will guard her with my life," he offered to the queen, a pledge he would take to heart from that day forward.
With a gurgling hiccup, the babe seemed to show her support for that.
A stoic man, he was surprised when the edge of his lips turned up in a faint smile.
It would be one of many.
As the years went on, Felicity grew from a small babe to an uncoordinated toddler. Often, she could be found clinging to John's leg, searching for balance in a world that never quite seemed level to her stumbling feet. Like a foal, she kept climbing back upon her shaking legs, excited to walk before she was ready. She was beloved by her parents, but their time was often filled with other duties. The king wanted a son, a proper heir, but it seemed his wife, much as she tried, had given her only miracle in the small, wide-eyed girl that grew up eager to jump in mud puddles and tumble in the hay of the stables she often snuck away to, petting horses and feeding them apples she had nicked from the kitchens.
John found his hands fuller than he ever expected when given Felicity to watch over. She was a bright, curious girl who was always looking for something new to explore. She took a liking to the strangest of people, like the town's crackpot, always begging scraps off the blacksmith to put together some cockamamie contraption or another. More times than he could count, John had found her handing the poor old fool tools as he built some bizarre project or another, even offering her own suggestions on how he could improve.
A bleeding heart, Felicity was always trying to help others, inviting the hungry to dine at her table, sneaking her food into her pockets to feed to animals and people alike. Hardly one to sit still, she gave her mother a headache when she constantly stuck away from needle lessons, preferring the company of horses and stable boys to the girls of the court. Too often she returned to her mother with torn and muddy dresses, her hair in yellow tangles, a pleased smile that always dropped into embarrassed apology.
And John was there to witness it all, sighing as he often did, rolling his eyes to himself as she continued, time and again, to repeat the actions her mother always scolded her for. In an effort to curb her energy, he took her horse riding through the valleys, letting her hold the reins sometimes so she felt she was in control. This was as close to freedom as she would ever get; the times when her mother was not waiting at the steps leading into the castle to shake her head and admonish her for not living up to expectation.
Upon her thirteenth summer, John gave her a horse of her own, though she had to promise to never ride without his company. While she saw her world to be too safe, he was aware of the dangers that lurked within reach. Were the wrong people to find her, they would not hesitate to use her to their advantage. It was a fear her parents and John carried for years. To combat it, John taught her how to wield a dagger. He practiced with her, showing her how to defend herself for the time when he would not be there to do it for her.
"Surely you jest. You are always there," she reminded with a laugh, her brow furrowed.
"The years will not always be so kind to me. A time will come when I will not ride beside you. It would do my old heart good to know that you are always safe."
"Old," she scoffed. "You are faster than any knight my father employs. You will live an age! Probably longer than I."
Taking her hand, he pressed the sheathed dagger into it. "There are worse ways to die than to time. A soldier knows this all too well."
Humor fading, she stared down at the dagger. "Do you think me capable?"
"I think you stronger than you know." He caught her chin with his finger and raised it. "I raised no coward. Your strength is in your heart; you need only let your arm guide it."
Swallowing thickly, she worried, "My heart does not want to kill."
"You heart wants to continue beating." He wrapped her fingers around the hilt and unsheathed the dagger. "Show me your courage, girl."
Biting her lip, she shook her head. "I could hurt you."
"If it means you will live, I will welcome the pain." He stepped back and nodded to her. "Think of what angers you… Think of what scares you… And plunge your dagger into the heart of that enemy."
Swallowing tightly, she looked from him to the dagger, and then squeezed it tight. "You promise you will not hate me if I hurt you?"
He gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. "I will applaud your effort."
Her eyes narrowed then and she quirked her head, a fire lighting deep within her. "You do not think I will… You encourage me, but you think I will fail."
"I think this is the first time you hold a knife not meant for butter."
She let out an abrupt laugh and curled her lips in a determined smile. Circling him in a predatory manner, she swiped the skirt of her dress out of her way and declared, "If nothing more than to prove you false, I will draw blood, good knight."
He grinned at her before waving his fingers at her to attack.
Letting out a war cry he could be proud of, she lunged.
She did not draw blood that day, but her efforts to do so were admirable.
It would take time, and a lot of effort, but eventually, John was comforted knowing that Felicity could protect herself. She was smart, resourceful, and eager to learn. While her mother would prefer she learn how to properly stitch, John taught her how to disarm any opponent. He taught her how to hunt, how to build a fire, and how to skin and cook her game. Felicity may have been a princess by title, but she was a soldier at heart, a survivor should anyone try to make her a victim.
After eighteen summers, King Kenneth Smoak began his inquiry about suitors. His daughter was a beautiful commodity, and he had heard many an offer for her hand. With windswept golden hair that fell down her back, coral lips that were always smiling, and bright eyes the color of the ocean, she was certainly the most beautiful maiden in the court. Perhaps it was a father's pride that told him so, but he would not be convinced otherwise. Deciding his daughter was a woman grown and it was high time she begin her duties as a wife, he asked John if he thought his sweet daughter would welcome the idea.
"She is our jewel, yes, Knight, but who are we to keep her from the light she ought to have? A day will come when I will no longer sit this throne. What man will take my place? Mayhaps if I choose her husband for her, I will know that my kingdom is in good hands."
"You deserve the best successor, my king. However, I fear the princess is not yet ready for marriage. She is still too young, too wild for a husband. She is not yet docile enough to take any man, and she would surely rebel against the idea were it offered to her."
"I am no fool to think I know better than you of what my daughter would do… You more than I have seen her grow. It is, perhaps, my greatest folly that I did not spend more time with my daughter." He sighed as he reached for his goblet of wine. "As a young lad, I was told never to speak the words, but I fear I have mistook my father's wisdom for faulty truth… I love my daughter, Knight. I love her more than I could ever express. I fear I have not paid her enough mind these years and she has grown to love her freedom too much. She sees marriage as the chains of servitude when I see it as gift I seek to bestow upon her."
"Forgive me for being frank, my king, but I believe, when it comes to giving others gifts, we should remember that it does not matter what we want to give them, only that which they want to receive… You want to give her a king for a husband, but what if she wants neither a husband nor a king?"
Kenneth sighed, his shoulders slumping heavily. He was not a large man, even seeming small in comparison to the mountain that John was. But the presence Kenneth exuded often made him seem much larger than his average stature. Now, however, he seemed more defeated than John had ever seen him. "In my heart of hearts, I know your words to be true, Knight. And I take your counsel thankfully, though I do not suppose my wife will agree so heartily."
Half-smiling, he nodded shortly. "I know the queen wishes for her daughter to marry. She has made mention of it many times. It is because of her persistence that I know the princess's resistance."
"I offer her time then, to accept that she will be a wife. But know this, I may love my daughter's wild heart and seek to shelter it as long as I can, but a man fit to be king I must find to replace me, and he is who she will marry."
"One day, my king, but not today."
"No, Knight. Not today."
As the king expected, his wife did not agree with allowing Felicity to continue unwed. She was long past the age when it was agreeable, but the king held firm, taking his knight's advice to heart and refusing to budge. However, after two more years passed, Kenneth could no longer ignore the many letters he received in askance of his daughter's hand in marriage, nor could he ignore that his health would not continue for much longer. The duties of a king had greyed his hair and weighed heavy on his heart. He was not knocking on death's door, not yet, but he was aware of the frailty of life, and he wanted to see a good man sit where he sat to watch over the people that pledged their fealty to him as they had his father. More, he wanted to know that his daughter, his beautiful, kind daughter, would be in good hands.
Though John continued to tell him that Felicity would not take to marriage, Kenneth decided the time had come.
And so, standing before his collection of knights and his family, he rose from his seat, a goblet raised. "It is with a happy heart that I inform you all of the exciting event that will soon be upon us… In a fortnight, we shall have a celebration," he announced. "Games will commence and he who surpasses all other opponents will earn the grandest prize of them all…" He waved a hand toward his daughter and, in her surprise, she took it, letting him pull her from her seat. "Soon, daughter of mine, we shall meet your husband."
Cheers raised up in congratulations, eager to share in the fun of the games and see their princess married.
John watched from a far, frowning, as Felicity forced a smile. Beside her, Victoria clapped cheerfully, ignorant of her daughter's sadness.
Later, when her mother cooed that she was crying from happiness, John wondered if his duty to Felicity did not mean for him to bundle her up and take her far away from the chains of a marriage she desperately did not want. Was it not his duty to keep her happy as much as it was to keep her safe? He could see how the weight of her father's announcement began to press on her, and feared it would not end the way her parents hoped. Sure, she put on a happy face for those around her and accepted each congratulations offered, but the light she carried inside her dimmed with every passing moment. He worried that it was now little more than a small flame that was soon to be blown out entirely.
Felicity begged off early from the celebration and, after kissing her parents cheeks goodnight, climbed the stairs in a hurry, shaking her head when he asked if she wanted to go for a walk to clear her head. Her voice thick with tears, she answered, "No walk will help this, sir," before she hurried into her chamber, closing the door behind her. He could hear her sobbing herself to sleep but refused to leave her door, taking it as penance for not speaking up earlier and convincing the king to change to his mind.
He did not leave his post until late in the night, checking on the other soldiers posted around the court before he found his bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
The following morning, he returned to Felicity's chamber certain that he could comfort her in some way. However, after repeatedly knocking, he finally opened her door to find her chamber was empty.
With a sigh, John gave her a head-start before he took a group of his best men to search the woods she had held in such high regard.