Chapter Text
“Why can’t you come along with us, Nana?” A young princess whines, deepening the frown that sat on her freckled face to punctuate.
She watches with sad eyes as her grandmother approaches her bed, smoothing out its sheets and taking a seat next to the princess. Her eyes, kind and aged, meet her granddaughter’s as she reaches out to take her hands.
“Someone must stay behind while you are gone. Who else would manage the castle’s affairs?” She’d console, brushing her thumb across the top of her granddaughter's hand.
The princess’s head droops. That was the answer she had been expecting, and the exact answer her father had given her when he told her her grandmother wasn’t coming, if only worded differently.
Though she had believed she’d aged out of such childish attachments at her grand age, just newly 13, the thought of leaving her grandmother behind did not please her. Even for something as exciting and important as a ball in the neighbouring kingdom, with glittering jewels, elegant dances, and so much of her family there with her- minus her grandmother, who she believed wholeheartedly should come!
Her mother had promised her a time of fun and good hospitality, as this was to be a very special ball; one which would strengthen the “bonds between our kingdoms”, as she said. Not to mention, each and every person would expect her majesty's presence at this ball, as she was the sole heir to the Beanbean throne. The most important person of the night, said one of her cousins.
It would be a grand time, she didn’t take such a fact for granted.
But, the princess had barely travelled out of her kingdom, never away from her grandmother for more than a day or two. The thought of four days away from her, away from her garden and her bed, her precious pet... Truly, the most temporary of losses were the hardest to grapple with for someone like her.
Only less than a week, but it felt like a lifetime would pass before she returned home.
She inches closer to her grandmother, but refrains from pressing into her. That, she had outgrown. “I suppose... But, I will miss you dearly!” The princess looks expectantly at her grandmother, as if it could change her mind and make her come along anyway.
Her grandmother sighs knowingly, lifting her granddaughter's hands and giving them a firm squeeze. It must pain her too, then, to let someone she loved so dearly go.
“Wherever you go, I will always be with you. And when you all return, we can go right back to how we were before... We can do whatever you wish, just you and me!” The lines deepened in her grandmother's cheeks and forehead as she smiled at her.
The princess’s face fills with joy, a smile turning up at last. It was a good promise to her, a great promise, even. Perhaps it could make everything much more tolerable, if she knew she had something to look forward to. Whenever she felt homesick, she could remember it wasn’t so far away, and there would be arms eagerly waiting to hold her when she returned...
And there would be fun at the ball too. Her cousins always knew how to have a good time- most beanish did.
“There we go, there’s that beautiful smile.” She drops the princess’s hands in her lap, using one of her hands to brush back her hair. “Now... Can you do something important for me?”
Eagerly, she nods.
Her grandmother reaches into the pocket of her robes, producing a necklace from it. It was plain, not nearly as adorned as any of the jewelry her mother was bound to wear on their trip, with a small green shard attached to it. It seemed a rather dull piece, only hanging off of some thick string, which perplexed the princess even more as to what it might be for. A good luck charm, maybe?
“This,” she says, before the princess could wonder further, “is a small piece of the Beanstar. Do you remember the Beanstar?”
Just faintly, she could. When she was very small, she had seen it once. She had read leagues more about it, though. The Beanstar was the ancient protector of their kingdom, having been around even before her great grandmother was. It was a powerful star that granted the wishes and most grandiose desires of any person, foretold to bring about disaster if it were to fall into the wrong hands. Something that needed to be protected for it to protect them, a mutual exchange.
Very, very important, in other words. She nods, an expecting flutter in her chest.
“Good. You must protect this with your life, do you understand? So long as this piece is with you, no crooked forces can meddle with it.” She spoke in an educative manner, her eyes locked in exchange with her granddaughters. “Its power only works when it is whole.”
Still smiling, the princess cocks her head to the side in curiosity, her hands folded in her lap. “But, nana, why doesn’t it glow?” Even when it wasn’t being used, the Beanstar would glow. It lit the entire room up that it was in effortlessly, just like the stars that were in their sky.
“Ah, now that.. I must show you.” Her grandmother lifts the necklace, letting it dangle from her hand. “Our lullaby... You remember that, don’t you?”
Of course the princess remembered their lullaby. How could she forget it? Too many nights did her grandmother croon it to her when she struggled to find sleep.
Nustling into her chest, her eyes drooping as they fought for her to stay awake just long enough to hear the end of the song. With her grandmother’s hand in her hair, or rocking her as she carried her to her room, or placing a folded outfit on her vanity for the morning.
She could never forget such a beautiful song, such beautiful memories.
“Yes, I remember! I love our lullaby, truly,” the princess exclaims, her smile only getting bigger.
Her grandmother laughs fondly, bringing her attention to the necklace. “Whenever you sing it, the shard will glow.” She taps it with her unoccupied hand, and it makes a faint clink , and the tiniest of twinkling sounds.
“Could you show me?” She asks, eyes trained on the necklace. She knew she just wanted to hear the lullaby again. Just once more, even if it didn’t make the necklace glow.
“Anything for you, my darling princess.” She would clear her throat, and start off quietly, as if she were still singing it to a sleepy toddler.
On the wind, cross the sea..
Hear this song and remember…
The princess would continue to watch intently, noticing how the shard began to glow softly from the singing. She piped up to join in with the song for the last line, their voices intermingling.
Soon you'll be, home with me…
Once upon a December.
The shard, now glowing brightly, cast a faint green light across the princess’s face. She gasps in awe, and giggles. “Thank you. I shall protect it with my life, I promise.”
The clasp to the necklace is undone, and her grandmother ushers for her to lower her head. Her eyes stay fixed on the necklace as she does, wanting to glimpse the last of its glorious fading light until her head was too far down to see it. The shard would rest against her chest as the clasp closed, now going dark once more.
Her grandmother would brush her granddaughter’s hair back one last time, giving her forehead a kiss.