Chapter Text
The summer sun shone bright through the leaves of the forest as Penelope picked blackberries from a particularly tart bush, something her Auntie Merryweather was fond of.
“Hmmm,” Penelope hummed a soft melody as she plucked, dropping the berries gently into her woven basket. “I know you,” she sang, fingers moving in time with each note, “I’ve walked with you once upon a dream.”
Her mind wandered to the book she had been reading earlier that afternoon, a tale of two lost souls whose love for one another ran deep, but was forbidden. Not something Aunties Flora nor Fauna would be too pleased with, so Merryweather snuck it in for Penelope, ever the rule-breaker.
Penelope spent much of her time reading, and as of late, found herself with tales of love at her fingertips. Oh, how Penelope loved love, and longed for the kind of love that lie between her pages.
Her aunties loved her, there was no denying that. In all of Penelope’s sixteen years, she had been shown nothing but love from the only family she had in the world. She loved them deeply in return. But that was a familial love, and family was all Penelope had. She wasn’t to leave the woods, for dangers lie beyond them, or so her aunties told her. “When you’re older, dear,” they would coo reassuringly, promising that when she came of age, she could venture beyond the mossy knoll and the stream, but until then, she must remain close to the cottage.
Thus, Penelope knew only three people, and she longed for friendship even more than love. Someone, anyone to talk to, whether it be about the mundane or the brilliant. But, she didn’t come of age for five more years, so for five more years, she would seek the company of stories and songs.
“I know you,” Penelope continued to sing, her voice clear and sweet, “the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”
Colin rode through the forest, his red cap shielding his eyes from the streams of light pouring through the leaves. As his horse trotted along, Colin directing the reins aimlessly, he heard his brother’s voice in his head.
“Tours are all well and good, but I need to know that when the time comes, you will be able to honor the promise you made to father,” Anthony had chided. “You need to honor your betrothal and strengthen the bond between kingdoms, it is your duty as a prince.”
Duty. Honoring a promise he made as a child, not even knowing what it meant. Betrothal - Colin sighed at the thought.
He had just returned from a tour abroad, visiting Spain for the better part of three months, and it had been a dream.
Just Colin, his traveling companions, and endless sky, new adventures waiting around every corner. No one cared that he was a prince, nor had he wanted them to. He wasn’t Colin Phillip Christopher Bridgerton, Prince and third son of the late King Edmund. To them, he was Just Colin, and he adored being Just Colin.
Just Colin longed for travel, to see the world. He longed to discover new things, whether on his travels or in his reading. He longed to record his findings of the world, preserving his precious memories with the written word so he would never truly forget.
Prince Colin had duties to fulfill, kingdoms to unite, bloodlines to continue. He would be tied forever to a castle, to a life he didn’t choose for himself, but one he would live nonetheless to honor the betrothal his late father made for him when he was only three years of age.
Sixteen years on, Colin couldn’t remember the day itself, only the whispers around it. Talking about it anywhere was taboo, especially in the castle, and Colin only grew frustrated the more he tried to figure out why it was that he couldn’t meet his betrothed until the day of their union, still five years away.
As greater frustration brewed within him, Colin’s thoughts were brought to an immediate halt by the crystal clear, heavenly tone of someone’s voice.
“And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem,” the sweet voice sang. Colin’s head whipped around, desperately curious.
“Listen, Biscuit,” Colin murmured to his horse, gnawing at his bottom lip as he racked his brain for details from a book on mythical creatures, for the voice was surely too perfect to belong to a person. “Wood sprites?”
Biscuit neighed, sarcastically, if it were possible for a horse.
“Let’s go,” Colin gently prompted Biscuit forward, following the nearly hypnotic song.
“But if I know you, I know what you’ll do,” Colin’s heart felt light as he listened, yet it beat rapidly as he rushed on toward the possibility of a new adventure. “You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.”
Singing was replaced by beautiful hums, replicating the tune but making its source much harder to track.
Birds twittered above in the trees, muddling his sense of direction even further as he came to a stream. Biscuit began to cross the light flow, water coming no higher than his front knees. He neighed as he rose from the stream, trotting on dry land once more.
“Easy, boy,” Colin murmured with a soothing pat. He listened painstakingly for the angelic hums, his heart racing as hope began to fade.
“I know you,” the voice returned, capturing his heart immediately, even closer to him now than before. Colin brought Biscuit to a halt and hopped off, leading him by the reins as he continued his search on foot. “I’ve walked with you once upon a dream.”
Colin came to a clearing, and off in the distance, someone danced along the treeline. Auburn curls whipped by in a blur as a small, curved figure spun around, seemingly with an audience. To Colin’s shock, there seemed to be a litter of woodland creatures, and if he wasn’t mistaken - which surely he must have been? - they were gathered around this girl, her arms outstretched as she twirled and sang.
“I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.”
Colin held his breath as his heart continued its hurried patter, in a near trance as he led Biscuit around the treeline of the clearing, tying him up to a nearby tree before making his approach toward the mysterious girl.
“And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem,” Colin recognized this bit. Not sure what came over him, he began to softly sing along. “But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…”
She had yet to notice him, and a smile quirked at his lips. He rather felt like he was sneaking up on one of his sisters, though he could say for certain that his heart had never beat like that for someone of his own blood - or anyone, for that matter.
“You’ll love me at once,” she sang, coming closer into Colin’s view. Her cheeks were plump and bright, joyful as her eyes were closed in bliss as she sang.
“The way you did once upon a dream,” Colin easily crooned, the song having imprinted itself on his brain from the moment he heard her voice.
“Oh!” she jumped in surprise, her cheeks immediately flushed. Colin couldn’t help but smile, amused by her reaction. The animals that had gathered around her scattered, crawling up trees or hiding in bushes, though he continued to feel watched.
“Well, hello,” Colin tipped his hat, a gentle smile as his eyes met hers, a warm shade of brown meeting his own green.
“Hello,” she stammered, slowly backing away from him. “I’m…I’m really not supposed to speak to strangers.”
“But we aren’t strangers,” Colin offered, staying where he was so as not to alarm her.
“We aren’t?” she asked carefully as she tucked an auburn curl behind her ear.
“We’ve met before,” he continued, “you said it yourself, once upon a dream.”
She looked at him with eyes wide as saucers, adorably befuddled. She had backed up all the way to the trunk of a tree, small hands desperately wringing as she looked at him. Colin began to feel guilty, having never intended to scare her.
“What are you doing in these woods?” she asked suddenly, attempting to straighten her posture.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Colin chuckled. “It’s hardly proper for a young lady to be by herself in the woods, nor is it safe.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” she bristled, finally seeming comfortable in her words. “I know these woods better than you ever could.”
“Is that so?” Colin couldn’t help but smile.
“Indeed,” the girl nodded, hands falling to her sides, more confident in her stance.
“And how would you know them so well?”
“I fear that’s not your concern.”
“That’s fair, but indulge me, I’m curious,” Colin asked, gentle as he nudged her out of her comfort zone. She looked at him, quickly licking her lips as she maintained silence. She seemed to be assessing him, taking him in, so Colin took a chance to do the same.
She was short, significantly so compared to him. Her dress was a loose fit, simple greys and black, but she looked lovely nonetheless. Her hair fell in fiery curls, framing her plump, endearingly flushed cheeks.
When she still didn’t answer, continuing to stare him down, Colin spoke again.
“You know, we wouldn’t be strangers if we knew each other’s names,” he took a step closer, slowly to avoid frightening her. “My name is-”
“No,” she cut him off. “I’m not telling you my name.”
“Whyever not?” he chuckled, almost too amused by her.
“Because…” she hesitated, looking around nervously. Her hands began to wring once more as she considered her next words.
All of the sudden, another voice rang out.
“Penelope!” the voice called, that of an older woman. The girl’s face went white as a sheet, her eyes once again blown wide. Penelope. “Penelope, dear! Lunch is ready!”
“Penelope, is it?” Colin asked with a smile. Penelope, the name continued to ring in his head, lovely and clear.
She nodded, bottom lip caught nervously between her teeth.
“Colin,” he introduced himself. “See? Next time, we won’t be strangers.”
“Colin,” she repeated, voice soft. “Hello, Colin.”
“Hello, Penelope,” he smiled. “Better get home for lunch.”
“Oh- yes, yes,” she nodded nervously, moving quickly to collect a shawl and basket at the base of the tree. “Farewell, Colin.”
“Farewell, Penelope,” his smile grew as she gathered her things and ducked under a branch, hurrying off into the trees.