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Someday I'll Find My Love (Someone To Call My Own)
No-one expected Charles to get as far as he did, least of all himself. He was the prince's personal knight, but definitely not the brawniest one available. Frankly, he probably only got the guard job because no-one seemed to like Prince Edwin very much anyway and Charles was expendable.
If he managed to stop an assassination attempt and both of them survived? Good. If he died trying but the prince survived? Fine. If they both died anyway? No real loss.
It was a recipe for melancholy and moroseness, if he was being truthful with himself, and also;
It was aggravating.
Prince Edwin may have been blunt and more than a little standoffish, but he was kind to everyone from his much-adored siblings to a scullery maid. Also, he was witty and good-humoured and lively and Charles had no idea why others couldn't see it as plain as the nose on their face.
'You need not be so vexed on my account.' The prince had said one night. 'It does not matter.'
It was cold up on the castle walls, but it was their mutual favourite spot. Prince Edwin had a great fondness for the library, and Charles likewise held affection for the courtyard where performances were performed for the delight of the crowd, but their personal vantage point was the in-between of both their personalities, and as such was perfect for nights that that one, where they needed nothing but each other's company.
'Indeed it does, your highness. I won't hear anything less.' Charles said.
'How many times must I tell you to call me Edwin?' He pulled up the collar of his fine tunic. 'I am no great lord, merely someone who happenstance let be born in a castle instead of a pasture.'
'And I'm a mere knight, sworn to serve and no longer welcome at my father's doorstep. So I believe that fate has trapped us together for the foreseeable.'
Prince Edwin gave him a half-smile. 'Then she has been kind indeed.'
Instead of answering, Charles locked their fingers together.
-
Due to a recent 'outbreak' within the knights' ranks, Charles had been called upon to travel outside the city to deliver a message. Frankly, he believed the 'mysterious illness' that laid Sir Thomas low was likely a result of overindulgence in both wine and brothels, but unless he wanted a new dent in his visor, Charles would have to keep that thought to himself.
When he rode off, he spared a glance behind him.
Edwin was on the wall of the castle again, simply watching him go, and despite the distance, Charles was sure it was a look of sorrow on his face.
Inexplicably, he found himself full of dread and wishing to turn back at once. However, as with so many things in his life, he had his orders, and it was his sworn duty to carry them out. He felt the weight of his apprehension as surely as he felt the weight of his sword against his hip, and he knew he would not be satisfied 'til he could return.
-
When he finally made his way back home, it was after many delays. Between storms, a river bursting it's banks, and a near miss with an outlaw, it was a miracle Charles approached the portcullis with all his limbs remaining.
From the moment he stepped inside the courtyard, he knew something was amiss. No-one was performing, the markets were shuttered, and the only being or beast around was a decrepit horse tied to the water trough. No wind blew, the grass did not rustle, and no faces could be seen through the narrow windows.
Charles dismounted and left his mare in the capable hands of the stable workers, and practically ran into the castle.
In stark contrast to the outdoors, it seemed everyone was crowded inside, whispering into one another's ears and glancing at Charles with something akin to pity.
His skin crawled.
With the bare minimum decorum required of him, he made it to the hall, where the sounds of speculation could likely be heard from the battlements. While by no means bosom friends with anyone other than his prince, Charles did have his charms, and he used them liberally in an attempt to gather information.
He couldn't see Prince Edwin, otherwise that would have been his first port of call.
As it was, the situation seemed dire enough to warrant seeking information as quickly as possible, and at a later time he could track down his prince in one of his many hideyholes to confirm it.
Charles narrowed to his focus to a lady on the outskirts. She had somewhat of a reputation for spying, and many feared to cross her for such a reason in case she thought of a way to have you tried for treason, but Charles had need of her resources and to the best of his knowledge had never offended her. He prayed that was still true as he approached her;
'What on earth is causing the stir?'
She clutched the bible she always seemed to have on her person. 'Oh. You haven't heard yet, have you?'
'Heard what?'
'We received a messenger from the Snake Queen. She demanded we sacrifice a maiden to her or she would curse the entire kingdom.'
Charles' chest constricted. Curses were nothing to jape about, and rumour had it that the last town that had attempted to stand up to the Snake Queen had toppled straight into the sea in the middle of the night, drowning every soul who dwelt there before they could even have a chance to be roused from their beds.
He did not bother asking if the king and queen had accepted the deal. There was no other option.
'Have they selected someone?' Charles asked instead.
She gave him the same pitying look he'd been getting from the entire court and then some. 'Yes.'
Thinking aloud, he said; They'd require someone high ranking, so as not to offend her, but all of the princesses are betrothed or married- they can't send one of them without endangering an alliance.'
'You're correct. They didn't choose one of the princesses.'
Charles crossed his arms impatiently. 'Well then, who?'
'Prince Edwin.'
-
'What?' He asked hoarsely, certain he must have been mistaken. 'But she said-'
'They were desperate. I overheard the king say that there was no great difference, since he was not much of a man to begin with.'
Past tense. They had already written off his prince as dead. But-
'When does he leave?' Charles' whole posture changed, ready to run to Prince Edwin's side and fight off anyone who dared to use him as a pawn.
The lady pursed her lips. 'Early this morning.'
With that, she left, and his heart dropped down to the centre of the earth. He was too late. Desperation radiated off him like red from an ember as he ran out of the hall, using every shortcut and passageway he knew of to reach that familiar spot, high above the common folk on the wall of the castle.
He braced himself against the old stone, hopelessly out of breath, and scanned the horizon.
There, so faint and far-away as to be practically imagined, was a dark smudge.
A carriage.
Charles watched it for a few moments, and it disappeared before his very eyes.
-
After his travels, Charles had been given leave to spend the evening how he wished.
How he wished was, unsurprisingly, finding a way to reach his prince before whatever terrible fate awaited him did so first. The consequences of directly contradicting the king and queen's orders, nevermind the punishment for desertion, were barely present in his mind as he hurriedly shoved a few more provisions into his bag. He had not even unpacked after his long voyage, but that was to his advantage now.
With the changing seasons came earlier nightfall each night, and Charles was thankful for it when he slipped out.
He did not take a horse, on account of the fact he did not actually own one, but he knew he would walk until his shoes had worn out and until the soles of his feet had given way to bone. Prince Edwin had an interest in cartography, and Charles had had the forethought to swipe a map before he departed.
The sight of his room, with the fire unlit and belongings undisturbed, only strengthened his resolve. The king and queen must have assumed their son would be killed very soon after his arrival, for they had not even allowed him to pack.
Had they even told him? Or had they merely thrown him in a carriage with little explanation to save themselves an embarrassing struggle?
Charles' blood boiled as he walked, and it did not diminish with the miles.
-
He scarcely stopped to sleep, nevermind anything else, and arrived on the outskirts of the heath with gaunt cheeks and in ragged clothes.
The last few days travel had been easy going on account of the fact that nothing dared to live so close to the Snake Queen, and he walked through grey-ish grass and waded through green streams with only one thought in his mind; please God, do not let me be too late.
It was a possibility.
Prince Edwin's carriage was faster than walking, and had gotten a head-start. They were also unlikely to have stopped for more than swapping out horses, eager to be done with the rotten job and to leave a young man at the mercy of a witch.
A mere mile away stood the Snake Queen's home. Low and stony, it would have made for a respectable noble's home, but nothing near the calibre he had expected from her.
Charles leaned against one of the few, sickly-looking trees that dotted the area and scanned the castle for any weakness or way of breaking in. He saw none. He also saw no trace of the carriage, not even in the mud of the path leading to it, which meant their tithe was already safely delivered and stored inside.
He did not despair. By hook or by crook, he would rescue his prince.
He may have sworn fealty to king and country, but his duty was to the young man who showed him his precious book collection, who told him how to navigate by the stars and by map, and who never looked down upon him.
Those days seemed far away indeed from the land of the Snake Queen, but no matter. He refused to fail Edwin.
Despite living in a kingdom that neighboured that of a witch's, he had never had much experience with the supernatural himself. Prince Edwin had secretly studied the fundamentals, only trusting Charles with the knowledge that he had looked into matters that could see him trialled for witchcraft, royal or not- but that was Prince Edwin.
On account of the fact that Charles seemed untouched by strange and mercurial forces he did not fully understand, he could not have anticipated what came next.
Namely, a visit from three witches.
His first thought upon witnessing three women appear from thin air was to assume he had dropped dead and was now being visited by angels, but after nearly toppling over and feeling the rapid beat of his heart, he was assured he was alive.
Gathering his wits, Charles drew his sword. 'Who goes there?'
'Three sorceresses locked in battle with the Snake Queen, and who have waited for someone to appear and do battle with her.' One of them said. She looked about Charles' own age, but perhaps that was a glamour.
All three of them had their hair down, something which would never have been tolerated in more civilised areas.
It did make them easily identifiable, but Charles found himself averting his gaze. Seeing a woman with her hair down and uncovered was akin to seeing her without a stitch on her body, and he had no desire to leer at three ladies who could send him to an early grave or turn him into a mere spot of ash in the dirt.
The one who had just addressed him had dark skin and hair, and looked upon him with open scepticism. The other, perhaps slightly younger than her, had hair white as linen and a far more friendly expression.
That one spoke up, 'Are you here to rescue a princess?'
'Pardon me, I'm actually here to rescue a prince.' Charles said, trying to look like someone capable of such a feat. 'And I should be getting on my way, thank you.'
'Not so fast.' The eldest witch said in a voice equal parts commanding and exhausted. 'We have business with you, and you with us. No-one has dared to save a sacrifice once they are given to Esther- except for you.'
'I'm his knight.'
The dark one raised her eyebrows. 'You don't seem very prepared. Where's your army? Your horse? Your armour?'
Charles grimaced. 'It's just me, I'm afraid.'
The eldest one, covered in runes and with a dagger at her belt, asked him, 'Did your reinforcements perhaps die on the way? Were you robbed?'
'Alas, no. The only explanation is that I'm the sole person who cared enough to come.'
'Then I suppose that makes you brave.' The white-haired one said excitedly. 'And how romantic! Coming all this way to stand alone against the threat to your beloved…'
The purple one gave her a fond yet exasperated look. 'Not everything is a tale of romance.'
'And yet who could deny what we have right in front of us?'
Charles didn't know how to interrupt them without offending several extremely powerful sorceresses, so he instead opted to stay silent until addressed. He would be no good to Edwin if he was cursed or killed before ever stepping foot inside the Snake Queen's domain.
Finally, the three of them looked at him, and the one dressed in purple gave him a surprisingly warm smile before gesturing.
Surmising that she wanted his bag for a reason he couldn't possibly fathom, he handed it over. In her hand, it glowed for a moment, and when she gave it back to him, it was heavier than when it had been mere moments before.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Charles opened it.
'A gift!' The charming one said giddily. 'From the three of us. To help you rescue your prince!'
'It's one gift from each of us as opposed to one from us all.' The purple one said. Charles found himself wishing he knew their names, but names held power, and such magical beings were unlikely to hand them over to a mere mortal like them.
But they had given him a gift. Well, three.
Inside his bag was a small mirror, a miniature horseshoe, and an unlit torch.
The young one with curly hair pointed to her mirror. 'It shows the truth. Esther has heaped hexes and glamours upon her home, but that will reveal your prince's true location.'
The white-haired one pointed to the horseshoe. 'For good luck! I think you will need it.'
The eldest, who seemed impatient for him to get going, handed him the torch, which immediately burst into red flames. 'It won't dim, and it won't burn you. You'll need it for finding and killing the witch.'
'I beg your pardon?' Charles asked as politely as he could.
'She won't let you leave with your prince. She'd rather kill you.' The purple one said. 'So I suppose you need to make haste if you want him returned to you unharmed.'
Charles opened his mouth to protest, but the trio disappeared into the wind.
It was him facing the demoness alone, then.
He wouldn't be alone once he had found and rescued Prince Edwin, and that was the thought that spurred him onward, torch in hand.
-
If, many decades or centuries in the future, someone took it upon themselves to compose a ballad of his quest, they would most likely be compelled to exaggerate or let their fancy fly. They would include a daring swordfight against a dragon, or a riddle match deep in the dungeons of the keep, or a flock of guardian angels descending from above to guide his hand in a holy reckoning.
In truth- it was easier than that.
So much easier that Charles could scarcely believe his luck. Even once the foul thing lay dead at his feet, he was sure he had missed a detail, that she would rise once more.
And yet she did not.
When he first entered her castle, he expected many things to go wrong. But his charm seemed quite capable of doing it's job, and he crept up and down halls with the hand-mirror in front of his face and the torch in his hand casting red light against the walls.
He quickly discovered that all was not as it seemed within the Snake Queen's home, and that the humble exterior was a ruse.
Inside, it was cavernous, full of passages and dead ends, and if he didn't have a magic mirror that showed him a vision of the correct way to go whenever he needed it, he would have likely have been lost and died of thirst long before he ever got to confront the woman-turned-monster responsible for the loss of his friend.
The Snake Queen's personal quarters were at the bottom of a long, pitch-black stairwell. Charles walked for so long he began to wonder if he had been transported to the centre of the earth when he reached a door.
Despite his determination, his hand shook as he reached for the handle.
The witch inside had the power to rend his soul from his body and obliterate it like conkers in a fire, and he knew it.
But he had a duty to the amazing young man taken by her.
And so he would continue regardless of fear, regardless of risk, and regardless of the distinct possibility of his short life ending in a crimson puddle at a witch's feet. Edwin was worth it.
Charles scarcely allowed himself to breathe whilst he made his way through her chambers. The first room he entered seemed grand but uncomfortable, and was likely a room for welcoming visitors, if she ever received such things. He wondered if she had taken all of her prey there before killing them, or if the last thing they saw was the labyrinthian halls above.
He was sure the next door led to her bedroom. Silent as a grave, he replaced the mirror in his hand with his sword, and, once he discovered the door was slightly ajar, opened it as slowly as he could with his elbow, unwilling to drop his weapon or only means of light for even a moment.
After so many tales of the Snake Queen, he expected more.
He certainly did not expect for her to be asleep, laid out on piles of cushions encrusted with blood and decorated with human bones. She seemed utterly content in her carpet of gore, resembling a cat after slaughtering every vermin in the area.
Except Charles and his prince were not vermin. They were no so expendable as this, not so worthless as this, not so pliant as this.
They had been forced and forced and forced and it had all culminated into the spectacular mess they found themselves in, where simply because no-one cared enough to save them, they would need to save themselves.
But only if Charles put his sword to good use.
It was as simple as a training exercise in execution. One swing, and the Snake Queen's head hit her mound of cushions and rolled onto the floor, where her fair curls prevented any sound resulting from the grisly action. That was it. He had done it. For several moments, he merely stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop-
It never did, and never would. He had defeated her.
He, Charles Rowland, a disgraced knight who scarcely counted as a noble, who had been assigned the task no-one else wanted, who had been cast aside as easily as a spoilt rag-
He had done it.
-
At the top of the stairs, he was given the fright of his life by the reappearance of the three sorceresses he had come across in the woods.
He wasted no time in thanking them, heaping praise upon them with every bit of sincerity he had and then some more on top of that, and after a minute or two of his accolades, the eldest raised her hand to silence him.
The action caused him to flinch, but of course, no blow came. She was merely gesturing.
Instead of her speaking, however, the white-haired witch did. 'Thank you for disposing of her. With her glamours out of the way, we were able to investigate a little! Namely, we discovered your prince, at the very top of the tower, in an enchanted sleep.'
Charles rested one hand against the damp, cold stone of the wall and tried to catch his breath. 'W-what?'
The purple one spoke up. 'She wasn't just feeding off of flesh- she was feeding from souls. Fear, specifically. Esther trapped her prisoners in deep slumber, twisting their dreams into nightmares, then killing them once they were spent. That's old magic- dark magic. How on earth did you kill her?'
He gestured to his sword. 'Sharp object. She was asleep. Very simple, all told.'
'Hmm.' She raised her eyebrows. 'Impressive.'
'Please, do any of you know how to wake him? Rescuing him is my priority, always has been and always will be.'
The one who had gifted him the good luck charm looked almost merry as she stepped forward to explain. 'That most simple and classic of ways. How are such things solved in fairy stories, Sir Charles Rowland?'
His mind meandered around the answer while his mouth said; 'I am no sir.'
The purple witch scoffed. 'You defeated the Snake Queen. If anything should garner a little respect, it should be that.'
'Why then thank you.'
The eldest rolled her eyes and tapped her rune-engraved fingers against her arm in impatience. 'Must we make this any clearer? True love's kiss. It seems that either Esther was a believer in the old tales, or so conceited as to believe that no such thing exists. I may not have had much myself by way of romance, but even I know not to include such an obvious manner of bypassing a curse.'
'Be thankful, then, that you are no evil witch.' The white-haired one said lightly. 'We must bid you adieu, sir, but you have done us a great service!'
'Far more than the one we rendered you.' The purple one admitted.
With that, they vanished again, and Charles was left to navigate his way to the to tower, and to ponder the exact nature of his relationship with the prince on his way there. Even once he reached the steps, he was not sure.
By the time he reached the top, he was.
-
From the outside, the whole tower was cloaked in a glamour. No-one passing would see it, no-one entering would think to look for it, and no-one seeking it would find it.
He thanked the gods, and the three witches, for his mirror, otherwise he would have met the same fate as so many broken bodies inside the Snake Queen's domain. He had somehow managed to put an end to her reign of terror, and the reality of such a thing had yet to hit him. By every definition, he was a hero.
And yet Charles would consider himself no such thing unless he rescued his best friend.
The winding spiral staircase that led up for seemingly miles had him feeling bilious, and his legs threatened to give out after days of harsh travel and hours upon hours of navigating the castle with little more than a few hour's sleep, a bag, and his wits.
He could rest once his quest was done. Whenever that may be, for it seemed to him that in the span of a day or so he had gone to the centre of the earth and then up to the clouds.
At long, long last, he arrived at the stone archway at the very end of the stairwell.
The large room that made up the top of the tower did not resemble the display of horror and viscera found in Esther's quarters, but Charles found it no less eerie for it's lack of bones and flayed flesh. Any room that contained the form of Edwin laying limply against the flagstones was horrifying to him.
Upon seeing that beloved pale face, Charles could not stop himself from running forward. The tower could have collapsed around their very heads and it would not have mattered.
He would have liked to have asked questions- to confirm what he already knew to be true- to be able to fully take Edwin's feelings into account in a matter that concerned him so closely, but by the nature of what he had to do, it was impossible. To ask if he could kiss him, he would need to wake him up, and to the best of his and the witches' knowledge, there was only one way to rouse him.
With all the reverence one would reserve for the Holy Grail, he knelt down beside him, slid his hand under his head, and kissed him.
For a moment, it seemed he had violated a trust for nought-
But when that moment passed, Edwin bolted upright with an expression of pure terror in his eyes. He was still in just his shirt and britches- they must have taken him from his home when he was least suspecting it.
'Charles.' Said that voice that he had not heard in weeks. 'I swear I never intended to leave you- I was given no choice-'
The knight flung his arms around his prince. 'I know, I know. You're safe now.'
'She is dead?'
'I killed her myself.'
'Then we are safe.'
'From her, perhaps. And yet I fear back in your kingdom we will have enemies aplenty for one reason or another, I especially. I deserted the guard.'
Edwin gasp. 'You did not. Please tell me you did not commit treason on my account.'
'For you? I would kneel this very moment, lay my head on the chopping block, and accept the executioner's axe with a smile on my face.'
They were both crying, by then. Edwin gave his knight a smile, then leaned forward and kissed him with all the tenderness he himself had shown him. Not as taken by surprise as he should have been, Charles reciprocated. How had there ever been any doubt that this was not where he belonged.
Reluctantly, they broke apart, and Edwin whispered, 'That spell- I felt as though I had been hunted and eaten by a giant snake, over and over and over. Hundreds of times, surely.'
The remembrance of the terror in Edwin's face when he awoke was nearly enough to send Charles back to the very lowest parts of the castle merely to inflict a few more injuries on the Snake Queen's body, but he held himself back. The most important thing now was to leave the godforsaken place and burn it to the ground before whatever evil she had leeched into it dissipated.
'Edwin-' Charles said a little shakily. 'We cannot return to the kingdom. Where do you suppose we ought to go from here?'
He smiled and pressed one more soft kiss to his lips before saying;
'Wherever we wish. We are free.'