There was a storm coming. As the carriage rolled up the cobbled road towards the castle, the entire world seemed to be on the edge of something. The air crackled with anticipation. Ivan breathed in deeply. He loved storms and hoped this might be a good sign. He had been working towards this moment his entire life. To be selected to work in the castle of the high king was an honour, to be chosen to guard his eldest daughter an even greater one. He wasn’t going to mess this up. He couldn’t afford to.
They passed through the castle gates, and him and the 12 other young men were greeted by the head guard. His hair was grey, and when it was paired with his golden eyes and the thick scar running down his face, it gave him an appropriately threatening appearance. “Which one of you is to be serving the princess,” he said, surveying the group with disdain. Ivan raised his hand. The guard nodded at him. “Come with me,” he barked.
They reached the great hall in only a few minutes, where the king and his court were waiting. The princess was seated at his side, smiling demurely. “Ivan Featherbound do you. . . ,” the king began, but he was interrupted by a snort of laughter from the princess. The entire court turned to stare at her. Her pale skin flushed a deep pink. Ivan tried to smile at her, but the king continued speaking. “Ivan Featherbound, do you swear to give your life over to the royal family, to protect the Princess Niamh, to place her safety and needs over your own?” the king boomed. “I do, your majesty,” said Ivan, bowing deeply. The king leaned back in his throne, surveying the boy who stood before him. “Very well then,” he said softly. He stood up abruptly. “Ivan, I’ll give you and the princess some time alone to get to know each other properly. I expect you both to behave in a manner that is upholding of your status.” The king nodded and strolled out of the room, followed by the men of his court, and his head guard.
They were all alone now. Ivan didn’t know what to say. Now that he was alone with her, he was amazed by how beautiful she was. Her beauty was of the sort described in poems and stories and songs, that were passed down from generation to generation. Her hair was raven black and flowed freely down her shoulders. Her lips were as red as the blood spilled on the grounds of an epic battle, and her eyes were the grey blue of the sea on a stormy day. All of this put together was quite enough to make Ivan nervous. He was still unsure of what to say and was relieved when she stood up and walked over to him. She stood in front of him and smiled broadly.
“What kind of a name is Featherbound?” she laughed. “It’s a family name” Ivan said. He tried to look annoyed, but he couldn’t help the grin creeping on to his face. “With a long and interesting history,” the princess laughed harder. “Why don’t you take me on a walk then, and you can tell me all about it,” she said. Ivan nodded, and the two of them turned and walked, side by side, out of the hall.
The day that followed was one Ivan never forgot, even years into his future. They walked through the fields that surrounded the castle and talked all the while. They talked about everything they loved everything they hated, all their hopes, their fears, their dreams. Everything about her fascinated Ivan. The way her eyes sparkled, the way she ran her hands through her hair. It was enough to drive someone mad, and enough so that by the time they arrived back at the castle that evening, he was completely in love.
The next few days fell past in a blur. Every morning he would meet Princess Niamh outside of her chambers, and they would spend the entire day together. The two would go on long walks every day. On the third day, as they were sitting under a willow tree by the lake, Ivan dared to allow himself to imagine what it would feel like to hold her hand. On the fourth day, he allowed himself to try. The princess looked up, shocked, and for a moment Ivan feared he had gone too far. But she did not drop his hand. She held it tightly, and they sat there in silence until the sun set far in the horizon.
It was the fifth day now, and they were sitting by the lake again. They were still holding hands, and Niamh’s head was resting on his shoulder. The dark clouds in the sky still threatened a storm, but they were choosing to ignore them. The scene was calm. Too calm. There was a sudden rustling in the bushes next to them. Niamh stood up suddenly, and Ivan followed suit. He pulled out the sword that had been resting on his belt and held it aloft. “Show yourself!” he commanded.
After a few seconds of silence, a huge black dog crashed through the bushes. It leapt on to Ivan, pinning him to the ground. He yelled, and tried to lash out, but the dog was too strong. It bared its teeth, growling, and Ivan was sure it was about to bite him, but before it could, it had been blasted to the side by a bolt of lightning. Ivan leapt up. He turned to Niamh, and saw she was standing with her arms in front of her. They were smoking slightly. “Did you-was that- how did you do that?” he panted. He had heard of such magic before, but only in stories. A tear streamed down her face. “I’ve always been able too,” she whispered. “You can’t tell anyone; I would be killed.” Ivan nodded and swallowed. “Of course, not,” he said. “I swear.”
It was a week later. The world was still on the brink of a storm. The king had forbidden the princess from going outside for fear she would be caught in rain, so she and Ivan were lying next to each other on the floor of the ballroom. Niamh was telling him about a time when she was younger and had found a stray kitten wandering the castle grounds. It was a silly story of no importance, but Ivan took in every word and knew he would remember them forever. He would have been happy to lie like this for the rest of his life. Suddenly, a maid ran into the room. “Orders from the king, the princess is to be escorted back to her chambers immediately,” she panted.
The pair sat up. “Why?” asked Niamh. “There’s, an army, from some other kingdom, they’re attacking,” the maid said. “Please your majesty, head back to your chambers.” The maid turned and scurried away. “We have to help them,” Niamh said. She began running, and Ivan figured it would be best to follow.
After running for a while, they came to a clearing where they found the enemy army standing before the king and the 12 guards who had travelled with Ivan only a few days ago. “Leave this place!” the king shouted. This, of course, did absolutely nothing. The man leading the army grinned. “You think a few words and a few boys will stop us from killing you and taking your crown?” he sneered. “I have to stop them,” Niamh said. Ivan knew she meant to use her powers. “You can’t!” he hissed. “They’ll kill you!” “What choice do I have?” she said. She ran forward to face the army. She raised her hands to the sky, and then brought them down in one quick movement. There was a flash of lightning, and the army collapsed, and lay lifeless on the ground. The king and his men stared. “WITCH!” one of them cried, pointing a finger at her. Niamh turned and ran. “I’ll follow her” Ivan shouted, running after her.
“NIAMH!” he shouted, running as fast as he could to catch up with her. She spun around. As he reached her, he saw tears running down her face. He would have given anything to make them stop, to make her laugh like she had the first time they talked. “I’ve got to go Ivan,” she whispered. “You can’t come with me. I’ll go, I’ll find other people like me. I cannot let you bear this burden as a life.” “What if I want that burden?” Ivan said pleadingly. Niamh shook her head. And then she kissed him.
She kissed him.
She kissed him for the first time.
For the last time.
She kissed him like she knew it.
“I love you,” she whispered, and then she ran, and as he stood there alone, he heard a roll of thunder, and the rain began to fall. The storm had finally come.
