Chapter Text
Prince Arnold of the Kingdom of Sunset Arms had no idea why he was here. What was he doing in the Bartlett Baronies anyway? He had enough on his plate with his grandparents, the king and queen, trying to find a suitable bride for him. All of them were…fine, he supposed. Charming, kind, agreeable. But none held his interest for long, even if he had made friends with Princess Lila.
“Man, Arnold. You gotta be the only noble I know who’s turned down so many eligible brides!” His friend and herald Gerald sighed as they entered the gates. Whatever Arnold was about to say died on his lips as he saw the gathered throng of people, thick with young men, all holding swords. “Hey, what’s all the hubbub?”
“It’s the Pataki clan! Their youngest heir has declared a challenge! Whoever can defeat her champion in battle will earn her hand in marriage!” Someone cried. Arnold and Gerald shared a look.
“Oooooh no, we refuse!” Gerald said solemnly, shaking his head. “My liege Arnold has met Lady Helga, count him out!” The oblong-headed prince indeed had met the…interesting duchess several times. She was an absolute spitfire of a woman, with a temper to match her iron will and no desire to be kind or agreeable to anyone. He still remembered the night she had been brought before him to evaluate her as a possible bride…
“Are you going to keep staring?” She had asked, her lips curled in a derogatory scowl. “Your oblong head is giving me the creeps.” She was wearing a simple leather armor ensemble and a cape of wolf fur. A far cry from the fine silks and delicate dresses that most royals visiting his castle would wear. She was dressed not like a princess, but as a capable hunter and warrior in her own right. He had no doubt that the pelt clasped around her shoulders was her victory alone.
Arnold frowned as he jumped off his throne. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer.”
Helga snorted, crossing her arms. “Don’t test me, bucko. I don’t feel like being nice, so why should I be?”
“Well, it’d make me like you.” Arnold replied simply, walking up to her. Her face turned an odd shade of red as he got closer.
“Like me? Why would I want to make you like me? I’d rather get a sword through the head than endure another minute of your prattling. I’m only here because my parents are forcing me to be. So let’s just cut the pleasantries, get to the part where we hate each other, and I’ll be out of your oh-so perfect kingdom come morning.”
Arnold could only smile a little. “Whatever you say, Duchess.”
“I DO say it, Arnoldo, and what I say goes. Come on, Phoebe.” She snapped her fingers, her royal retainer seemed reluctant to part with Arnold’s herald, but she trotted along after her to the guest chambers. “Call me when it's time for supper, you flaxxen-haired fool!
“C’mon, Gerald!” Arnold called, and Gerald could only sigh, walking his oldest friend closer to the ring where the throng had gathered. “Let’s at least watch. I know you like to watch a good duel.”
“Yeah, that’s true…” Gerold muttered back, scowling a little as his charge had a tendency to simply get himself into trouble for little thought of getting himself out. The ring was a simple circle of dirt surrounded by a wooden fence, on the border of which sat a podium where Duke Robert and his wife Miriam sat, watching the festivities. Lady Helga was nowhere to be seen, although there was a seat left for her. Standing in the middle was a tall knight in black armor, surrounded by three men. Arnold could only stare, enraptured as the knight swung the massive axe he wielded in a wide arc, easily catching all three of his opponents as they charged in unison, foolishly thinking a united front meant they had the advantage, leading only to their humiliating defeat as they crumpled. Arnold couldn’t help but notice something clanking against the knight’s chest. A simple golden heart was tied to the knight’s neck with a pink ribbon.
“Is that all you weaklings have to offer!?” The knight crowed, nudging the defeated young men with his foot. “Lady Helga will never accept a weak man as her suitor! Only a man of pure heart and strong will can claim this heart! And I promise as her champion, none of you shall claim it! I swear this upon my honor as the Knight of the Deepest Voice!” The knight’s speech sparked consternation from King Robert, but the crowd of men were simultaneously awed and terrified of the black knight. “Are there no more fools among you eager to find yourselves at the end of my blade?” Indeed, most of them had either already lost or they were actively backing away in fear. “Cowards and scoundrels, the lot of you!” The knight’s visor centered on Arnold and raised his axe towards the blonde. “YOU! Step into the ring. It will be incredibly satisfying to crush your hopes of winning my fair maiden’s hand.”
“Me? But I’m not here to compete! I’m just here to watch!” Arnold proclaimed.
“Then get in here and lose quickly, you flaxxen-haired fool!” Arnold wasn’t exactly eager to lose a battle, but there were cheers all around, egging him on. “Or perhaps thou art a coward as well?” Arnold slowly sighed and entered the ring, heading for a weapon rack where everything from axes to swords to spears lay, including a few that were broken from rough handling. Slowly, Arnold reached for a rapier, swishing it in his hands to test the heft of it. Satisfied with it, he turned toward the knight. “Finally…”
The knight didn’t move, allowing Arnold to examine the Knight’s stance, trying to figure out a weakness. He was covered head to toe in full plate, with no room for a lucky stab through a chink in the armor. The only way to truly defeat the knight was a lethal blow…but did he even want to win? This knight had insulted his honor. Even if he didn’t want Helga’s hand, he had to at least fight seriously. Wait…
“Are you actually going to fight, or just throw down your weapon and prove your cowardice?” The Knight challenged.
Arnold simply smiled. “What are the conditions for victory?” He asked.
“Simple.” The knight flicked the golden heart with a smug snort. “Retrieve the golden heart, and open it. Find out what’s inside. But you won’t get the chance.”
Arnold rolled his eyes, but he charged. The black knight raised his axe with a mad snarl, but Arnold quickly ducked out of the way, narrowly dodging the axe smashing into the dirt by mere inches. He jumped forward, smacking the knight’s wrist with his rapier, not harming, just keeping him off balance, before quickly landing a strike on the pink ribbon, causing a deep cut to the fabric.
“H-Hey!” The Knight shouted as Arnold retreated before the black armored knight could strike him bare handed. “How dare you! I shall enjoy grinding you down to dust!” He stomped forward, but Arnold could only smile.
“You’re slow. That armor weighs you down, Sir Knight.” He darted forward again, foil raised, but as the knight brought his axe up to block the strike, Arnold dropped and slid between his opponent’s legs. With the knight being so slow to turn, Arnold planted a foot on his rear and kicked, sending the knight tumbling down to the ground. The crowd was cheering his name, and Arnold held up his rapier with a smile before taking his bow.
Arnold turned towards the knight as the cheers died down, examining the knight, who seemed to be scrabbling for his axe and muttering something. “An honorable duel sir Deepest Voice.”
“Oh Arnold~” The knight muttered, and Arnold shook his head in disbelief. His opponent reached up and smacked his own helmet, the visor spinning three hundred and sixty degrees comically. “I mean…You have defeated me, Prince Arnold. And thus, the bargain is struck. Do it. Take your prize.”
“That’s the thing, Sir Deepest Voice.” Arnold sighed, tossing the rapier away, where it rolled into the dirt. “I didn’t do this to earn Lady Helga’s hand. Helga is her own person, who deserves someone who loves her for her, not because they won a contest of strength and wits. Keep the prize. I have no desire to take it.” He began to walk away, but the black knight scrambled to his feet.
“If you have no desire to take it…then perhaps you will accept it willingly?” The knight’s voice suddenly softened, into one he knew all too well. “From its…original owner?” Arnold could only stare, dumbfounded as the knight undid the knot in the ribbon and presented the heart to him, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. “You have proven yourself gallant, brave, and true, Prince Arnold. It would be my honor to marry you…if you’ll have me?”
There was, of course, an insane amount of whispers as Arnold blinked in astonishment. “If I’ll have you?” The knight only responded by slowly lifting their helm, revealing the blonde hair of Lady Helga Pataki, her blue eyes soft as she let the black helm hit the dirt without ceremony. She extended the heart again, her face red. Slowly, Arnold took it, and with an almost reverent brush of his fingers, opened it…before clicking it shut, his face red as a brick.
“I…didn’t know how to tell you.” Helga said quietly, her eyes downcast. “I only started this challenge to get my parents off my back. So I could stop being their bargaining chip. But when I saw you in the crowd…I had to do it. I had to challenge you…and you beat me, fair and square. I-It's okay if you don’t want to, but…I had to make the effort.”
“...I thought you hated me.” Arnold said quietly, not giving the heart-shaped jewel back yet.
“...I lied. I couldn’t bear to tell you because I knew you weren’t looking for someone like me. You don’t want a brash, rude, crass woman who has no kind words for anyone, even your best friends. You deserve someone better than that. An angel with a real heart of gold, not a brutish warrior.” Helga looked away in shame, the gossipy mutterings of the onlookers dead quiet as Arnold looked to her, slowly stepping forward.
“I think your heart is the purest I’ve ever seen, Lady Helga. I cannot say I’m ready for marriage, but I would like to get to know you. The real you. What do you say to you coming away to the Sunset Arms? We could have a…private rematch. Without all that bulky armor.”
Helga’s face turned bright red. “A-Arnold! That’s a little forward, isn’t it?” And Arnold couldn’t help but laugh.
“I see you have one weakness, my warrior.” Arnold snickered.
“Oh, do shut up, champion Oblong head.” Helga hissed, but there was no fire in it, as Arnold pulled her forward to gently capture her lips.