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"I suppose you think you're brave, don't you?"
"Only compared to some."
-The Princess Bride, 1987
Hero can see the worried looks Beatrice is giving her out of the corner of her eye, and looks resolutely forward. Claudio's hand is tight around her own, his rings digging into her fingers.
"Marriage," the priest says, "is a most indominitable force."
She blocks out the words, focusing instead on what she will do later that night. She knows Claudio's plan, of course: marry her, murder her, and blame Ursula's family. She knows that he was the one to have her kidnapped earlier that year, that it has been his plan from the beginning. She knows that Ursula is dead.
The fact somehow hurts more than it did the first time.
Borachio steps forward, murmuring something in Claudio's ear, and the prince nods. The vicar pauses in the middle of his spiel.
"Shall I continue or...?"
"Get on with it," Claudio snarls. The vicar nods.
"As I was saying, the most unbearable of bonds..."
Claudio's hand tightens around Hero's minutely, and she winces. The pins in her headpiece are digging into her scalp painfully. A headache is slowly building behind her eye, but she stares resolutely forward. Only a little longer.
Outside the castle, there is a resounding crash, and Claudio grows more agitated. It doesn't matter; probably just some members of the brute squad having their fun.
"Skip to the end," the invader of her kingdom and her to-be husband hisses.
Her stomach twists. The sooner it ends, the sooner she can finish it.
The vicar looks incredibly put-off. "I can't just skip to the end," he says. "It won't be a permissible marr--"
"I. Do. Not. Care."
"Well then." The vicar looks incredibly uncomfortable. "I now pronounce you man and wife. Y--"
Claudio whirls off without another word. "Lady Beatrice, bring my wife to my bedchamber. I will be with her shortly," he shouts, his soldiers following him.
Hero does not feel wed. As Beatrice gives her a pitying look, taking her arm, she lets herself close her eyes for just a moment. Her head throbs. Is it a marriage if she never said “I do”?
"You don't have to do this," Beatrice hisses as they walk out of the ornate hall. "Just say the word, I'll get you out."
Hero shakes her head. "He'll say I've been kidnapped. He'll blame it on Ursula's family. War will break out and her death will have been for nothing." She takes a steadying breath, the clamping in her throat preventing any more words from escaping.
"He's going to kill you!"
"I know," she says. "I've known for the past month."
The door to the chamber looms in front of her, dark and commanding.
"My lady," Beatrice pleads desperately. "I beg you, do not do this."
Hero flings her arms around the neck of her lady in waiting, feeling her tears prick at her eyes. "You are the best friend that anyone could ask for," she whispers fiercely. "I wish there were another way."
"There must be," Beatrice insists. "You can appear to the people, let them know that you ran away of your own volition."
"They will not listen to me, and I do not blame them. This will inspire them to action. They will see Claudio's evil, and they will rise. If they find me strangled in my bed, you know who they will rise against. This is the better alternative."
Beatrice nods against her neck, wiping her tears as she draws away. "They will know of your sacrifice," she says. "I will make sure of it."
Hero nods, screwing her eyes shut to attempt to put an end to her tears, and breathes. Her head pounds. Slowly, she pulls the door open, refusing to look back at Beatrice lest her resolve crumble. She walks through, and the door slams behind her with a finality she almost welcomes.
Stepping to the dresser, she begins to search through the drawers for the vials she knows Claudio keeps. At first glance, they are empty, but closer inspection reveals a false bottom to the innermost drawer. The vials within are carefully labelled, and she scans them quickly.
Mandrake
Belladonna.
Hemlock.
Iocane powder.
Monkshood.
That will work. She lifts the vial from its casing with surprisingly steady fingers.
"You don't need to do this." The voice behind her is achingly familiar, and Hero freezes, taking a shuddering breath.
"So I have already been poisoned," she observes when she regains her breath. "Hallucinations first? I must say, this is cruel, even for Claudio."
"Hero."
"So what is it? Something unique to Ursula's kingdom, no doubt."
Her hands begin to tremble of their own accord, and she struggles to uncap the vial. If she dies with the symptoms of whatever Claudio has poisoned her with, all her actions will have been for nought.
"Put the poison down, darling."
Hero squeezes her eyes shut. "The irony of my death-induced hallucination attempting to convince me to live is not lost on me," she giggles wetly. The cap finally separates from the vial, and she peers at the contents.
"Hero, please," the spectre of Ursula begs.
The princess turns, lifting the vial to her lips. "I love you," she tells the hallucination. "I would live if I could, if Claudio was not going to kill me tonight. If I do this now, the people will rebel. If he kills me and you are blamed, your kingdom will be overrun. Claudio's reign will be secured. People will suffer and die."
The spectre stands shakily. "You could escape," she insists. "You could escape with me."
"I would, my dearest, if only you were real."
"I am."
Hero can't help the tears that begin to drip down her cheeks. "With all that I am I wish that you were," she chokes, chest tight. The glass is cool against her lips, and she presses her eyes shut, steeling her nerves.
Suddenly the vial is gone, warm fingers enclosing her wrist, shaky breath fanning her face.
"Hero," she whispers again. "Look at me."
The princess opens her eyes with reluctance. Gazing into Ursula's face hurts more than she could ever imagine.
"I am real."
She feels real, so very real, and Hero's heart breaks all over again. Ursula's fingers are warm and solid around her wrist.
"You died," Hero says. "Claudio killed you."
"He mostly killed me," she replies with a weak quirk of her lips. "Not quite. He couldn't keep me from you that easily."
Hero sobs, and Ursula lifts a hand to her cheek. She leans into it, eyes drifting closed. "You're really here," she murmurs. "You're alive."
"Mostly."
Her eyes snap open. "You're hurt," she says, and Ursula wavers. Gently, she slips her arm around her waist, and Ursula sinks into her side gratefully.
"I'm healing," she says. "That's not important. We need to leave, now. I have friends distracting Claudio and his men, but they can't hold them long. There should be someone outside the window."
The princess opens the stained glass window, and true enough, there are two vaguely familiar vagabonds with horses from the stables. One of them waves at her.
“Prepared for our great escape?” he calls. “Balth charmed the stableboy to sleep with his lyre.” The other, “Balth”, quiets him with an elbow to his ribs.
“We’ll have to jump,” Ursula tells her. “And then ride fast enough to outstrip the prince’s guards. Are you ready?”
Hero nods, unable to tear her eyes from Ursula’s face. “I love you,” she tells her. “Whatever happens, know that I love you.”
Smiling, she presses her lips to the blonde’s temple. “Always and forever,” she replies. Fingers interlocked, they jump out the window into the starry night.