The Crown and Mercenary - Ch.1 First Encounter
Warning(s): Death mention. Not shown, but implied.
Character(s): Val Greaves, Kenna Rys, minor mentions
Pairing(s): Valenna (Val Greaves x Kenna Rys)
Words: 1076
Author’s note: The official first chapter of The Crown and The Mercenary.
Val ran, as fast her little legs could carry her, ignoring the rocks stabbing at her bare feet as she dashed past villages and dodged wagons full of animal feed. “Hurry, Mom. We’ll miss them.” She called from over her shoulder, not bothering to see if her mom was even still with her. The closer to the city’s heart she came, the denser the crowd had become until no amount of shoving or cursing could press her forward. Val stomped her foot in the dirt purposefully as if thinking her unbridled frustration could part this sea of flesh. When it didn’t, she pouted and looked for an alternative route. Eyes shimmered with renewed confidence spotting a stack of crates beside the apothecary shop. She hurried to it and started climbing. From that height, Val knew nothing could obstruct her view.
And just as she reached the top, the crowd went silent. Like the gods wiped the earth clean of sound. Then, without warning, a chorus of a hundred voices melded together in an incoherent cheer nearly sent Val tumbling backward.
“The Queen has returned!”
“We love you, Queen Rys!”
“All hail Queen Rys!”
Val had seen horses before, but none like the ones they rode. White as snow or as black as the darkest night. Despite the constant cries from the people, there was no sight of the queen. Just her knights in their dented, scorched, and scratch-up armor. Twenty or so passed in pairs before Val saw her, the queen. The occasional glance or smile for the crowd, but her attention was to her right where a young man rode beside her.
Neither of them interested Val. Not anymore, at least. Beside the queen rode a young girl, probably around Val’s age, dressed in a blue and white dress with a black bow. A little tiara sat atop her head, dark hair styled in pigtails. The queen’s daughter, Val assumed, but Val wasn’t aware there was a Stormhalt princess. Unlike her mother, the girl was waving frantically at the crowd, as if worried she’d miss saying hello to someone. Her smile was impossibly wide, Val’s cheeks hurt just watching her.
“Kenna, Kenna!”
“Hello, Kenna!”
Kenna. Val found herself waving back. Slowly, at first, but as Kenna neared, Val started waving faster and faster until, she too, was calling her name. Standing on her knees, waving desperately with both hands trying to get her attention. As she neared, Kenna turned to Val atop the crates. “Hello up there!”
“Valentina, what are you doing?”
Val’s eyes widen, her heart stopped. Slowly, she turned downward where she saw her mom, holding both her own and Val’s bag filled with freshly bought goods. They looked heavy.
“Mom, I was-”
“Get down here.” Looking back, Val saw that Kenna and her mother had already passed. She sighed and started the climb down. She’s tossed her back and follows her mom back home in silence. It’s a long walk to the outskirt of the city where their house resides. More of a shack than an actual residence like the rest of the village. Her father and his had built it themselves, years before their village was actually a village. Then it was just an assortment of huts, belonging to hunters who frequented the area for it’s proximity to Horka.
Val didn’t like thinking about that, she always remembered her father when she thought of Horka. Stormholt soldiers caught him without a license. They said he pulled his bow on them. Val shook the thoughts from her mind and turned her head to her mother who was fumbling through her pockets for the key to their front door.
Val giggled. “Mom, I saw the Queen. She had a daughter too.”
“That’s…nice, Valentina.”
“Mom, I told you. Call me Val.”
Val’s mom chuckles and pats her daughter on the head. “Whatever you say, Val.”
Unlocking the door, Val follows her mother inside and sets her bag of goods on the counter next to hers. She watches her mother unpack, waiting to see if she asks for help. They were having rabbit stew today and Val knew she’d need help. After a few moments of silence, Val bounds over to the table where she had left her wooden sword. She lets loose some practice swings, just like a Stormholt soldier. “I saw the princess, mom.”
“I-I heard you.” Val heard her start chopping. Carrots, potatoes? Val didn’t ask. She knew better than that. Why don’t you come over and see for yourself? Next thing she’d know, Val would be folding napkins or setting the table.
“She’s pretty. I didn’t know we had a princess.” Another swing, a block. Just like her father showed her.
“You…don’t.”
“Huh?” Her mother goes silent. She had stopped chopping. Hand raised, holding some unknown object. It had to be small, she was turning it over and over in her fingers. Val inched closer, trying to get a better look. Wood boards creak under her weight, stirring her mother from a memory. “Mom?” She faces Val and she sees the ring in her hand.
Her father’s ring.
Val’s mother takes a deep breath, gripping the ring tight in the palm of her hand. She closes the distance and kneels in front of her daughter, meeting her eyes. “Val, you can’t trust the Rys family.”
“B-but why?”
“They don’t care about us.” Val’s mouth hangs open. Don’t care? All she can think about is Kenna’s smile, hands waving at the crowd. “Val, the world is a dangerous place. It is cruel and unfair and,” There is a pause, stopping to wipe the tears from her daughter’s face. “Don’t cry, dear. Please. I’m sorry. Just…just know: you’ve just got to look out for your own.”
“Val, two on the horizon. On foot, both armed, but…the girl is well dressed. Royal, maybe. This might be our lucky break.”
“Yeah? Give it here.” Val snatches Jackson’s telescope, snickering as he sneers at her and rubs his eye. Peering through the lens, Val sees the travelers. The first, an older man. White hair, armored and formidable, but clearly past his prime. It’s subtle, but Val could see a hitch in his step. Jackson was right about the girl, clearly royalty. The clothes give her away. Though, she would’ve never guessed by the way she held herself. Strong and alert. “Huh,” Dark hair, olive skin, plush lips. “She’s pretty.”