Chapter Text
“I swore an oath on the fields of battle that no harm would come to her.”
The queen paced quietly behind him, hands clasped in front of her. “But Robert, I do not understand, what protection can we offer her here. Her very existence is a danger and we by no means have the largest army in the realm.”
The king still gazing out the large arched window, pressed the knuckles of his right hand against the stone window sill. “We will hide her away. She will remain here, under our care, but under a different name and a different station--no bounty hunter would think to look for a royal amongst the servants,” He paused, watching the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. “This is the only means by which we can guarantee her safety.”
The queen approached her husband, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Very well, my lord.”
* * *
The young prince tip-toed quietly up the stairs, stopping in front of the girls sleeping quarters. He opened the door carefully, knowing that it squeaked after a certain point, but finally clear of all obstacles he bounded silently across the room to one of the smaller beds, where a head of blond hair poked out from the blankets.
“Felicity! Felicity! Wake up!” The young boy whispered, shaking the sleeping girl.
“Go away.” The girl grumbled in response.
“Felicity. The sun is awake, so we must be as well! Come on, get up.” His relentless pulling and shaking didn’t cease. Turning more fully on her side, one of the girl’s eyes opened suddenly, her partial gaze glaring at the prince.
Realizing he finally had her attention, a wide grin broke across his features. “Please, Felicity. It will be fun, I promise.”
With the other eye now open, both filled with mirth, she nodded. Sitting up, she pushed her friend by the shoulders toward the door and told him she would meet him outside in a moment.
Soon the two children were hurrying down the stairs to the kitchens. Although most of the servants were not yet awake, those who passed the pair--a prince and a servant girl--did not bat an eye at such blatant disregard for station and rank. While the kingdom of Starling held much respect for proper social order and separation, within the walls of the castles both royals and servants had long since learned that there was not much to be done to separate Prince Oliver and his dearest friend. No one was quite sure how the two had met, but it was difficult to deny the prince the one thing his well-comforted life was missing--a child his own age to play with.
* * *
The sun beat down on the crown of the girl’s head as she bent over her task, sitting on the steps to the kitchen door.
“Psst.”
“Go away, Oliver.” She called out knowing that her friend could hear her from wherever he was hidden.
The source of the sound stepped out from behind the corner wall, an expression of shock on his face. The girl, however, did not look up from her task when he implored “How did you know it was me? For all you know I could have been a stable boy, come to whisk you away.”
The girl laughed. “Only you would have the courage to come distract me, knowing Raisa’s watching me like a hawk. While such persistence and courage will make you a very good king some day, it will not work today because I’ve been ordered to finish cleaning these beans before supper.”
But Oliver was undeterred. “Come, Felicity. What if I promise that you’ll be able to finish your duties where we are going? It is merely a change of scenery.”
Felicity finally looked up, a brow raised in suspicion. “Oh, really? And what, pray tell, would we be doing that would fulfill such conditions?”
The prince, a tall and lanky twelve-year old, plopped down on the steps next to his friend. “Father’s all but ordered me to work on my sword training. But I’d much rather have company, instead of being all by my lonesome.” He finished, looking up through his lashes, with his mouth in an exaggerated pout.
His countenance caused Felicity to erupt into a fit of giggles. “Oh, you just want me to be there to tell you how wonderful you are and what a brilliant fighter you make.”
“No, but if it works for you go with it.” He grinned, leaning back against the steps.
Felicity wiped her hands on her apron and reached out a hand to pat him on the cheek. “Come on then.”
The prince shook his head and smiled. Standing, he took her basket it in his hand, and the two made their way to the clearing in the woods that surrounded the castle.
The clash of sticks rang out in the clearing. The prince was breathing heavy as he and his best friend continued to circle each other, her mischievous grin made him more than a little weary.
“I still don’t know how you became such an expert swordsman. It not exactly an activity for a lady to engage in.”
Felicity laughed. “Did the Duke’s daughter tell you that?”
“Who? You mean Laurel?” Oliver asked, dodging a swipe from Felicity.
She nodded. “It sounds like something she would say. Besides such rules only apply, if they apply at all, to the aristocracy. And as to how. . .” She paused as she drove several more attacks, finally succeeding in knocking the stick from Oliver’s grasp. “Clearly, I was the only one paying attention when Slade was teaching, although not intentionally -- and in my defense it seemed like fun. And I have to say, being able to best you makes all those afternoons training with John worth it.”
The sound of laughter replaced the sound of sticks as Felicity grabbed her basket, Oliver chasing her all the way back to the castle.
* * *
As the young man skidded to a halt in the throne room, the king and his son immediately ceased their conversation and turned their attention on him.
Breathless, the messenger spoke in a rush. “Your majesties, there has been an attack on a member of the royal staff. It was on the King’s road, near the province of Bludhaven. Bandits appeared from the woods and attacked the girl, but the soldier that was with her was able to fend them off. They have entered the gates only moments ago.”
“Which staff member was it?” The king asked stepping towards him. The young messenger twisted his red cap in his hands nervously, more afraid of sharing the news with the prince than his father.
Said prince was now standing as well, mirroring the King’s actions. He recognized the messenger as the recently promoted stable boy. “Out with it, Harper!”
“It was the healer’s apprentice, sire. Miss Felicity Smoak.” He mumbled the last sentence, not daring to look at the prince.
Roy Harper heard the echo of the prince’s boots as he ran past him and down the hallway towards the healer’s quarters.
Prince Oliver burst into the room so suddenly that Harrison nearly dropped the potion he was mixing.
He made a quick bow, but the prince ignored him as he headed straight for where Felicity was lying prone on a cot, just to the right of his workstation.
While it was well known that his young apprentice was close friends with the crown prince, it was quite a shock to Harrison to see the young man fall to his knees beside the cot, his hand immediately coming up to pass tentative strokes across Felicity’s forehead. Oliver’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “How is she, Harrison?”
The healer stepped next to Oliver, lifting Felicity’s head slightly to pour the potion into her mouth. Laying her down gently, Harrison replied “She will heal, your highness. Miss Smoak took several blows to her midsection. But it’s nothing several days of rest won’t heal. She was lucky she had Mister Allen with her for protection.”
Oliver nodded, but his attention was focused solely on his friend.
The bandits were found within the week and hung in the town square. If anyone thought such a punishment was out of the norm for thievery, there was not a word spoken. Life went on, and the healer’s apprentice remained ignorant.
* * *
“If you continue to worry away at that crown, it might soon crumple to dust.”
Oliver turned as his best friend closed the door quietly behind her.
“I mean not that you could actually destroy a crown just by turning it in your hands. Because it is metal. But . . . I cannot believe they did not think to look for you in here. If I was looking your study would be the first place I would look, well I guess that is obvious, because here I am and--”
“Felicity.” He set the crown on his desk as he crossed the room towards her. “I suppose you have heard by now.”
“About the war? Of course. Oliver, I know this is enormous weight on your shoulders, but your father felt you were ready to lead the army into battle. And he will be there to advise you.”
Oliver sighed, reaching out to idly play with her hands. “I’m not worried that we can beat them. I am terrified that I will fail as a leader. Hundreds of men will be looking to me to make the right decision, and I am barely one and twenty. How can they depend upon me?”
Felicity slipped her hands from his and brought them up to frame his face. “Because every knight in this kingdom is just now starting to see, and will learn, what I have known all along. You are a natural born leader, Oliver. You are kind. You are merciful. You are courageous and brave. And most importantly, you are a hero.” She tried to keep the sadness at his leaving hidden from her eyes, letting her encouraging smile spread across her face.
Seeing that her words had not fully dispelled her best friend’s anxiety, she reached behind her to unclasp her necklace. It was a piece that she had worn since birth--a simple gold chain from which hung a small sun pendant, with intricate knot work. Felicity closed the little space between them, reaching up to clasp the necklace around Oliver’s neck.
“Besides, I do know two things with absolute certainty. No matter what happens, you will never be alone,” She laid her hand over where the small sun rested on his chest. Stepping back, Felicity walked over to the desk and picked up the discarded crown, turning it in her hands as she made her way back. Standing on her tip toes, she placed the crown gently on his head. Felicity made sure she was looking her friend directly in the eyes when she finished her declaration. “And I believe in you.”
* * *
Felicity was just outside of Oliver’s chamber when she saw his manservant approaching.
“If you are here to help his highness into his armor, would you be so kind as to let me take on your duties?” She paused. “I need to say goodbye.”
John gave her a sad smile. “I shall go bid goodbye to my wife. Tell his highness that I shall meet him outside the stables.”
Felicity assured that she would, and only after waiting for John to make his way down the corridor did she quietly open the prince’s door.
Oliver sat in his chair, staring in the the flames in the fireplace. He glanced up when the door opened and his smile mirrored John’s when he saw who had entered.
Felicity walked over to the bed where his armor was laid out, behind her she heard him stand up and head towards her.
“Are you sure you can lift that?” Oliver asked gesturing to the various metal garments.
“Oh I am much stronger than you give me credit for, good sir.”
Because her back was still to him, she didn’t see the small grin that tugged at his lips. More to himself, than to her he muttered. “Of that, I have no doubt.”
Felicity turned then, the chainmail in her hands, to see her friend standing directly behind her. “Come on then. Let’s get you ready for battle.”
She worked quietly as she slid the chainmail over his green tunic. Felicity placed each part of his armor on with care, her fingers hovering as she tightened this and set that. The last thing she gave him was his sword. Oliver was struck by how odd it, the hilt grasped in one of her small hands. He reached out to take it from her, when her other hand closed on his grasping it between her own. Felicity finally looked up at him then and he could see the tears that she was holding back. She had been with him through numerous tournaments, had seen him off on multiple diplomatic voyages, but never had war parted the two friends. Looking back down at their enjoined hands, he watched as she transferred the sword to his--the hilt now resting in his closed fist--before lifting his hand and pressing her lips to it.
Her head still down, she whispered. “Come back, my lord.”
He put two fingers under her chin and guided her up. “Hey. I would never leave my dearest friend behind. I will come back. I promise.”
“Good. I would disparage if I spent all time praying with Friar Tuck for nothing. The man reeks like spoiled milk.”
There was his friend. Oliver let out a laugh. “I promise, Felicity, your sacrifices, nor your prayers will be in vain. I’ll come back. Will watch over my sister while my father and I are gone?”
Felicity smiled as he sheathed his sword. “Of course. Who knows, she might possibly be a better friend than the current prat I’m stuck with.”
Oliver’s boyish grin was full blown and there was gleam in eye. “Never.”
And with that he turned and left his chamber. However, neither the prince nor the servant girl knew that that would be the last conversation they would have for four years.