Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in the land of Faerghus, there lived the royal Blaiddyd family. The king and queen ruled over their land with compassion and grace, and they were beloved by all of their subjects. Their son and sole heir, Dimitri, was a kind and thoughtful boy, bright-eyed and eager to please both his parents and his country. He focused hard in his studies, spent hours each day practicing with both sword and lance, and accompanied his father on trips around the kingdom as often as he was allowed, in order to become familiar with the people he was to one day rule over.
When he wasn’t attending to his royal duties, Dimitri loved spending time with his friends. His princely status made it difficult for him to grow close to the common children of the kingdom, but fate and luck had brought four close companions into his life. There was Ingrid, the only daughter of Count Galatea, a close friend to the king. She was just as dedicated to her studies and her image as Dimitri, though he loved when the group was able to coax her more playful side out.
Then there was Sylvain, second (and more beloved) son of Margrave Gautier. Though Sylvain was a year or two older than Dimitri and Ingrid, he fit right in with the crew. Equal parts playful and protective, he seemed to know exactly how to push Ingrid right to her limit of exasperation without boiling over into anything that resulted in true consequence for him.
Finally, there were the Fraldarius brothers.
Both Glenn and Felix held a huge piece of Dimitri’s heart. Glenn, the elder, was a teen while Dimitri was still a boy, yet he never once held that over the younger boy’s head. Though busy with his own duties as a soon-to-be knight, every time his family visited the royal castle he made sure to spend some of his time with Dimitri and his friends. He was handsome, charming, and an incredibly skilled fighter - the perfect son in Duke Fraldarius’ eyes. Yet his focus was not on pleasing his father, but on supporting his younger brother Felix.
Felix, who was not yet five when his mother’s sudden passing nearly tore his world apart. Felix, who from that point on spent every moment he could trailing after his brother and his friends, unwilling to be alone for even a moment. He was a gentle child, but after his mother’s death he was hesitant to open up to others, even to his closest friends. He followed Glenn to the training grounds whenever he was allowed, eager to become a fighter as strong as his brother. With Ingrid he was focused and hard-working; with Sylvain, he allowed himself to indulge in childhood fun more often, as the red-haired boy was often the only one who could coax him into various shenanigans that would have Ingrid or Glenn yelling at them in exasperation. With Dimitri, he was often quiet but no less committed to spending time together; the two could often be found reading in the garden, or visiting the stable horses, or even training together, Felix with his favorite sword gifted to him by Glenn, Dimitri with his beloved lance gifted to him by Felix.
Though he would never admit it out loud, privately Dimitri occasionally allowed himself to admit that of his friends, he loved Felix most of all.
Over the years and thanks in large part to his friends, Dimitri grew from an adorable child to an admirable teenager. The kingdom was enamored with him, this gentle, well-mannered soul who had captured the hearts of an entire nation.
All except for one, that is.
It was an unusually cold and rainy night when the witch stopped by the castle. More specifically, it was Prince Dimitri’s 16th birthday. The king and queen had thrown a ball in his honor, and it seemed as if everyone of importance was there - dukes and duchesses, counts and viscounts, even some lords and ladies from neighboring countries. Dimitri himself was dressed in a stuffy blue suit that had been put on at his mother’s insistence; Sylvain couldn’t stop laughing at his obvious discomfort, but Ingrid assured him repeatedly that he looked fine. Glenn and Felix - the former sneaking sips of wine while his father wasn’t looking, the latter desperately trying to avoid every boy and girl who asked him to dance - didn’t seem to have an opinion on his outfit.
The night was in full swing when there was a loud knock on the large gilded doors of the great hall, before they creaked open of their own accord. Music and dancing came to a pause, and conversation ceased as all eyes turned to the woman who stood in the doorway. She was dressed in great swaths of maroon fabric, several shades darker than her pale pink locks. Her eyes, an alluring shade of teal, seemed to shine even brighter than the jewel-studded headpiece that she wore. She strode into the castle with an easy sort of confidence, as if she felt some type of ownership over the place.
King Lambert stepped forward to face her first. “To whom do we owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?” he asked, his voice steady. Although his body language remained neutral, behind him the members of the royal guard began shifting steadily, their hands moving towards their swords.
The woman smiled mildly, even as her eyes narrowed a fraction. “All this celebration over one little prince,” she murmured, and her words were like honey the way they slipped smoothly into one another. “I had to put a face to the name - the great Prince Dimitri, next in line to the throne. I’ve heard of his kind spirit, and the way all who meet him instantly place him in their favor. Tell me, can any one boy truly be so great?”
“I’d like to know what gives you the right to make that judgment call,” snapped Felix, who had moved to stand next to Dimitri. Sylvain stood on Felix’s other side, while Ingrid shadowed Dimitri’s right.
The woman’s eyes turned to them. Her lip curled faintly, hinting at a smirk. “My, that’s a very strong tone from a very weak boy, hm?”
“There is nothing ‘weak’ about him,” said Glenn, unsheathing his sword. “Now please state your business or remove yourself from the premises. You are not welcome here, stranger.”
For the first time the woman’s eyes flashed. “Who are you to tell me where I am and am not allowed, boy?” she snarled. “I am more powerful than everyone in this room combined could ever wish to be. I would advise you to watch your tone.”
She took another step forward, and in that moment everything changed:
King Lambert unsheathed his own sword, but before he could move the strange woman flicked her fingers toward him. There was a shrill whistling sound; an instant later, the king’s body disappeared and the spot where he stood was coated in flower petals, red as blood.
The queen shrieked, her voice cut off as she too was turned to petals a moment later. The royal guards rushed forward as one, but none of them made it more than a few steps before their bodies were dissolved as well.
From all around the hall came the sound of screaming. Guests began racing towards the door, trying to escape before they were turned to petals in turn. The witch’s eyes ignored them all, remaining steady on the prince and his companions. Dimitri and his friends stood in disbelief at the horrors they had just witnessed; all except Felix, who slid a dagger from his boot into his palm and darted forward and with an angry yell.
The witch watched calmly as he hurtled closer to her. When he was within arms’ length, both her hands darted out in one smooth movement. Felix was thrown backwards into the air roughly by some invisible force. He crashed into the ground yards away from his friends, his body still.
“Fe!” cried Glenn and Sylvain in unison. They raced over to the boy’s side, Ingrid right behind them. Sylvain reached him first and ran panicked hands along his body, sighing with relief when he finally felt the younger boy’s chest rise and fall beneath his palm. “Thank the Goddess,” Sylvian sighed, Ingrid sniffling beside him.
The witch paid them no mind. Her eyes remained on the prince, whose expression had continued to darken ever since his friend had been cast aside like a doll. His bright blue eyes, normally warm, were as hard as ice. His breathing had turned quick and erratic; he appeared to be moments from lunging towards the woman. For the first time, a true smile made its way across her face.
“There we go,” she mused, her lilting voice almost hypnotic. “That’s what I’ve been looking for. Despite your chivalrous mannerisms, even you can be nothing more than a beast.”
Dimitri snapped. With a roar he raced forward, drawing his own sword and gripping it tightly. His expression was wild, but his focus was clear: kill this intruder.
But the witch was expecting this, and she sidestepped all of his movements smoothly. “Please don’t take this personally,” she said, her voice remaining steady as she calmly ducked a swing meant to decapitate her. “I have nothing against you, dear child. But you must know that I cannot allow you to continue masquerading as a man, when your true spirit is the beast within. Your people deserve to know who is leading them, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Dimitri is no beast!” Glenn called out. He had stood once more; next to him, Sylvain cradled Felix’s body in his arms. “From what we have seen tonight,” Glenn continued, “I think it can be agreed that the only monster here is you, witch.”
The woman scoffed at that, but that one moment of hesitation was all Dimitri needed; he plunged his sword into the witch’s chest before she could dance out of his reach one more. Her eyes widened, and she gasped down as the stream of blood that now poured down her dress.
Dimitri’s triumph was short-lived, though, when the woman began to cackle. Her eyes turned brighter, even as her skin turned shades paler as life began to leave her. She paid no attention to Sylvain, who still had Felix in his arms and was hurrying towards the door; or to Glenn, who had moved to stand protectively before Ingrid and kept his sword trained on the woman’s bleeding form. No, her eyes remained only on Dimitri.
“A beast you are now, and a beast you shall remain,” she hissed, pointing one shaking finger at the prince. “You and your loved ones shall be doomed to rot in this castle to the end of your days, to protect the lands from your monstrous urges.” She paused, her eyes narrowing once more. She smiled. “However, that need not be the only outcome, for I am lenient even to those who have hurt me. If the beast can find someone to love in five years time, and be loved in return, then the spell shall be broken. If not, then the reign of the Blaiddyd family will be forever ended.”
She waved her hands once more, before a bright light enveloped her body and she was gone, leaving a single red rose that hovered above the ground in her place.
Then there was complete darkness, the horrible crackle of snapping bones, and amidst it all, a howl of agony that, it was said, could be heard throughout the entire kingdom.
And then silence.