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When the Holt family home caught fire several years ago and left the Holt children orphaned, many of the townsfolk feared they would be left destitute by the loss of their family’s property. Samuel Holt, however, being a very sensible man, had always ensured that funds could be made available to his family should anything ever happen to him, and had impressed that same sensibility into his children from a young age. This being the case, in the aftermath of the tragedy Matthew had been keen to provide for himself and his sister, purchasing a small townhome with the funds left to them and beginning his carpenter’s trade in earnest. This allowed for Katherine to continue her lessons until the age of eighteen, as the task of finding her a proper suitor began to weigh on Matthew’s shoulders.
***
Matt sighs, turning over the nutcracker in his hands with an odd sort of appreciation for the object. He’d happened across it while retrieving their winter bedding from the spare room upstairs, hidden away in a forgotten corner of a closet. Likely it had belonged to the previous owner of the house, and time and use had worn its features and coloration. For the better part of a month it’s been sitting on his desk in his workroom while he finished bigger projects, until last week.
Something had drawn him to repair the nutcracker, and after giving it a bit of a touch up on the paintwork, it occurred to him that the toy soldier look-alike might be the solution to his present dilemma— what to give his sister Katie for Christmas. At the age of eighteen she had long outgrown dolls and playthings, he had bought her a new winter dress already this season, and even if she were fond of jewelry, it would be a foolish financial decision given their current circumstances.
A nutcracker, while decorative, has a function, an aspect Katie is apt to be appreciative of.
Silently, Matt is grateful to have such a sensible young woman for a sister. All the more reason to ensure whoever wins her hand is of the utmost caliber.
He sets the nutcracker in a box with care and holds his head in his hands. Who is he, at twenty-two years of age, to make these sorts of decisions for someone so dear to him? But with the loss of the Holt family estate, it would be impossible for him to support her for too much longer, even less if he were wed himself, a pursuit he had put off in order to better care for Katie until she had come of age.
Such concerns are not meant to fill the heads of twenty-two year old men.
He fits the lid on the box containing the nutcracker and ties it carefully with a ribbon, then carries it to the sitting room to place it under the Christmas tree.
***
Christmas day is full of excitement and activity, and after exchanging gifts (all of which seem to please Katie, which gladdens Matt), and spending some time visiting with friends and neighbors, the Holt siblings return home for a quiet evening.
Katie retires to her bedroom to change into her nightclothes, arranging her gifts in her room as needed afterwards. Matt had made her a small wooden cat to add to her collection of the little animal figurines he made for her each Christmas, and she places it on her windowsill amongst the others. A stationery set is added to the drawer of her writing desk, and a new pen deposited in a cup filled with her other writing instruments.
The nutcracker she takes gingerly from its box, flipping the lever with her thumb as she spins in place, searching for a fitting place on her shelves for it. She looks back down at the nutcracker, with its sharp features and dark hair tied at the neck, cheeks painted a cheery rouge softer than the bold red of its soldier’s uniform. A small cut on one side of its face is filled in with paint so as to make it look like a scar— Matt had been very clever with the restoration. Katie may not have much use for dolls and such anymore, but she can certainly appreciate the handsome craftsmanship put into the nutcracker.
Katie smiles softly. “It would be a shame to keep you where no one else can see you,” she muses, picking up her chamberstick to slip down to the sitting room with the nutcracker in hand.
The sitting room itself is not too terribly dark, thanks to the moonlight coming through the windows and the addition of her candle. Katie sets the chamberstick on an end table and tiptoes over to a display shelf containing some of Matt’s favorite woodwork pieces, including a number of toy soldiers. It’s the perfect place for the nutcracker. Fortunately she and Matt are not the sort to over decorate, and there’s space aplenty for the nutcracker to sit proudly on the shelf, so she nudges it into place until she’s satisfied, then takes a turn around the room to expel any lingering excitement from the day.
When it begins to snow, Katie sits on the couch by the hearth to watch, until the ticking of the clock lulls her to sleep.
At the midnight hour it is the very same clock which wakes her with its chimes, though perhaps it may be more aptly said that it served as an alarm, for when she opens her eyes and sits upright, the faint sound of scratching in the wall draws her attention.
It’s quiet—
Another chime of the clock.
But as she gets up to investigate—
Another chime of the clock.
A miniature sword slices through the wall, and from it pours a line of tiny, purple men, stepping into the rank and file formations of soldiers, and Katie bites back the urge to scream as she moves to put the couch between them and her.
The clock strikes twelve.
Katie gasps at the sound of wood clattering behind her, spinning on her heels to watch the toy soldiers come to life, stepping off their pedestals and marching into formation on the ground.
Her eyes drift up toward the nutcracker as she realizes that it, too, is in motion. It shakes out its stiffness, dark purplish-blue eyes brightening as if alive, and Katie watches as its attention focuses on the purple army across the room. Then to her astonishment, it gasps with shock that makes her realize the little nutcracker is very much alive at the moment, and he speaks.
“The Galra, ” he growls, throwing himself over the edge of the shelf. He climbs down the piece of furniture in the blink of an eye, and soon Katie is watching him and the little toy soldiers clash with the strange purple men.
It isn’t long before they notice her as well, and she finds a number of the purple soldiers circling around her with swords the size of toothpicks. Suddenly very glad for her slippers, Katie kicks them away with an irritated “Shoo!” and rounds the other end of the couch, close to the hearth.
Her stride is much farther than the little men can keep up with, and she reaches for the fire poker as they approach her once more.
“Stay back!” she yells, swiping at them with her improvised weapon. She’s able to knock some back, but before long they get clever and start to climb the garland on the mantle in an attempt to gain some height advantage.
“Brother!” Katie yells, trying to knock the purple soldiers from the mantle now, as well as keep them from climbing her nightgown. Oh, she hopes he isn’t too deep in sleep yet. What a nightmare! She had thought herself to be dreaming at first, but the very real prick of pain from the tiny soldiers’ swords proves otherwise.
“Back off you fiends!” Katie growls, her tone very unbecoming of a lady, but in the presence of toys and tiny purple men she cares little for what is and is not proper. This really is absurd! She catches a few of the purple soldiers with her fire poker and flings them into the hearth with a huff. A few of her brother’s wooden soldiers had at some point joined her in her efforts to thwart the invaders, but most of them are locked in combat with the nutcracker elsewhere.
Footsteps sound outside the sitting room, prompting Katie to look away from her miniature attackers.
“Matt!” she calls, relieved to see her brother rush inside.
“Katie! What on Earth!” he yells, eyes blown wide at the sight of little red and purple soldiers at arms throughout the room.
“I don’t know! Help me get them away!” she calls, swiping at another group attempting to grab hold of her nightgown.
“Not another one!” bellows a small, angry man’s voice, tearing Katie’s eyes away from her brother.
It’s one of the purple men, but decorated with finer garb and a little crown on his head. A king, perhaps? She doesn’t have long to ponder it when the nutcracker raises his voice in warning.
“Watch out!”
Katie’s attention flits from the King to the nutcracker, to where he’s pointing, and is surprised to see a beam of purple light enveloping her brother. Her hands fly to her mouth in shock as her brother begins to shrink, and she drops the fire poker at her feet to rush over to him.
“Matt!” she cries.
The purple soldiers are prepared, however, a line of them hurrying into position to block her from reaching Matt. Another group surrounds her now-shrunken brother, tying him up to carry him off while the soldiers at Katie’s feet push her back.
“No!” Katie steps away from the line of soldiers in front of her and runs around to the other side of the couch in time to catch a glimpse of her brother being carted off through the newly formed hole in the wall, “ No!”
Except, the second call is not her voice, she realizes, screaming as another beam of purple light hits her, and a tingling sensation washes over her as she too, begins to shrink. The nutcracker’s warning had been just a moment too late. Katie grabs hold of the couch armrest before she becomes too small and heaves herself up onto the couch cushions as the purple light fades, retreating into the hands of a strange woman with long, white hair.
From her perch atop the couch, Katie watches the rest of the battle unfold, the nutcracker angrily driving back the enemy forces with his sword. With the human threats eliminated, however, the purple army is able to surround him, swarming like mad bees. The king seems to be enjoying the display, stepping back to watch his soldiers overwhelm the nutcracker while taunting him with cruel words.
Katie frowns, wishing she could help. Despite being severely outnumbered, the nutcracker had fought valiantly, and had tried to warn her and her brother about the strange beam that shrunk them both. As she paces across the couch, her slipper catches in the upholstery. She bends to free her slipper from the cushion, gripping it with the realization that its firm sole might be of use.
Quickly, she takes off her other slipper and sprints across to the other end of the couch, closer to where the king is jeering at the nutcracker. From her elevated position, she takes aim and launches her slipper at him, and another at the strange woman. Both projectiles strike their targets in the head, and the force from hurtling all the way down from the couch knocks the purple army’s leaders down. A frenzy erupts among the purple soldiers as they rush to defend their downed commanders. The wooden soldiers seize the distraction as an opportunity to push the invaders back, and soon the purple army beats a hasty retreat back to their hole in the wall.
Katie heaves a sigh and sinks to her knees on the couch cushion. How exciting! How frightening! And what are those strange purple men?
And Matt! Her only remaining family, gone! Captured by a miniature army!
Katie rests her head in her hands as tears threaten to spill from her eyes. Surely this must be some kind of nightmare.
But the pain of the tiny soldier’s swords had been quite real.
“—ight?” a voice is calling from below.
Katie perks up at the sound, curious. It sounds like the nutcracker, as absurd as it seems.
“Miss, are you alright? You’re not harmed?” he calls again.
“Yes!” Katie cries, creeping toward the edge of the couch to look for him. There, below her, is the nutcracker, looking up with worry in his eyes. How does he look so alive? What is going on?
“I’m quite alright, though I’m not sure how to get down,” she adds.
The nutcracker puts his hands on his hips and casts his gaze across the couch before extending his arms and looking back up at her, “Jump. I’ll catch you.”
Katie stifles a giggle at the action. So much personality in a little wooden man! It’s rather cute.
“Alright!” she calls, standing up. “Here I go!”
Falling through the air is quite an odd experience, especially for so short a distance as from the couch to the ground, but as a tiny person this is magnified. Katie wonders if it might feel like flying, but in an instant she finds herself caught safely by the nutcracker. He sets her carefully on her feet and kneels, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of her hand.
“You saved my life, thank you,” he says, rising. “My name is Keith, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…”
“Katherine, but I prefer Katie,” she replies with a slight curtsy. “I wish I could have helped more… they took my brother,” she laments.
Keith shakes his head, “You were very brave, and really, I must apologize. I’d lost sight of the witch and she took advantage of the situation to cast her spell.”
“The witch?” Katie asks, walking over to collect her discarded slippers.
Keith follows a few paces behind, “Yes, that was the Galra army. King Zarkon, who you also saw, usurped the throne of my homeland, Marmora, and chased the soldiers out. One of their witches caught up with me and I was turned into a nutcracker…” he sighs, gazing at his blocky wooden hand. “I was forced to flee, and somehow wound up in this world. Years have passed, no doubt, but I have been imprisoned in this wooden shell. However,” Keith turns to Katie, “Thanks to you I can return, free my country, and undo this curse.”
“That is very good to hear,” Katie smiles, “...but, would it be possible for me to accompany you? I’d like to find my brother, and, well… not be small.”
Keith nods, “It’s likely the Galra have taken your brother prisoner in the palace dungeons. That’s where I’m headed, so you can most certainly come along. I think the Princess of Altea may have the power to restore you and your brother to your proper size.”
“That is reassuring, thank you,” Katie says, donning her slippers once again. “Shall we be off, then?”
“I like your attitude,” Keith smiles, “We’ll follow after the Galra through their portal, but we need to go now, before it closes,” he explains, leading her to the newly formed hole in the wall, and into another realm.
***
After being spat out in the middle of an icy cavern in the outer reaches of Marmoran territory, Keith and Katie trek onwards toward the heart of the kingdom. The King’s forces’ attacks on the populace left much of the territory in ruins, with many towns burned to the ground. Keith had explained to her how following the Marmoran King’s death, his advisor, Zarkon, became regent until the Marmoran Prince came of age, but the prince, having been hesitant to ascend the throne so young, spent much of his time among the military, and Zarkon took the opportunity to claim the throne for himself, driving out the army and with them, the prince. Keith had then expressed hope that the villages farther from the capital would have been spared, but that hope had been dashed upon reaching the first town a few days into their journey.
“I was stationed along the eastern border when the Galra attacked,” Keith tells her while collecting firewood from the ruined structures of the town. “We heard the south fell first, but never received word of the north…”
“How much time do you think has passed?” Katie asks, helping to arrange the wood into a suitable fire to cook with. She’s relatively certain Keith doesn’t need the warmth— it’s more of a danger to him anyway— but she’s grateful for his attentiveness. The portal had deposited them in the far northern regions of Marmora, but she’d only been dressed in her nightclothes, forcing them to travel carefully to prevent her from catching frostbite.
The hope was that they’d find a town on the outskirts where they could procure her some warmer garments, but that seems unlikely now. All that’s left of the village is charred wood and a few metal objects. A cookpot she’d found prompted Keith to wander off into the nearby forest for a bit in search of game; another pursuit that would only benefit her.
Food that doesn’t require cooking is hard to find in snowy regions, and while her companion is at the moment incapable of eating, she must. Unfortunately her skillset and clothing prevent her from being very helpful beyond identifying edible plants. Her mother’s botany lessons only prove half-fruitful. Many of the plants of this realm are vastly different from the ones she’s familiar with, and while a part of her is curious to learn what they are from Keith, she feels guilty— surely all she’s doing is slowing Keith down.
“To be honest, I can’t say,” Keith sighs, watching her arrange their limited edibles in the cookpot, “I don’t think I was affected by time while I was… well, inanimate,” his face screws up in discomfort at the thought, and she’s reminded of the change in his appearance after going through the portal.
He’d gone from being a very traditional looking nutcracker to a more lifelike, yet wooden, toy soldier, almost. It must be something to do with the magic (and it certainly didn’t harm his appearance, but she won’t say that out loud).
“If I had to take a guess, it’s probably been a few years. It would take time to rout the army enough to be able to have this much of a destructive reach,” Keith adds. “I wonder what happened to my troops…”
Katie stirs her… well, it passes as a stew, thinking. “If you managed to escape, then maybe the others did too? You can hope,” she offers.
“Hope’s done me a lot of good so far,” Keith grumbles.
“You’re still trying, though,” Katie argues, gathering her skirts to get up, and moves to sit next to him, to his surprise. She pulls her knees up to her chin, stirring the pot slowly, “You have to have hope in order to try. ...My brother said that a lot after our family home burnt, and we lost our parents. It was a difficult time, but we tried our best to make it work. Of course, now he’s been taken captive by a tiny purple king.”
Keith snorts at that, “I don’t think Zarkon would appreciate that descriptor. But, thanks.” He pauses, “I shouldn’t have left the capital. I could’ve helped stop all this, then you and your brother wouldn’t be dragged into it.”
“But,” Katie interjects, not entirely sure where the sudden self-blame is coming from, “then I wouldn’t get to be here. I might be underdressed for the weather and a little hungry, but I am enjoying the journey. A magical kingdom! I never would have thought a place like this existed,” she smiles, picking up Keith’s hand (which looks quite real now, only made of wood) “and I think you need the company.”
Keith looks away, a little baffled, and she’s sure if it weren’t for the permanent rouge on his face he’d be blushing.
Keith tugs his soldier’s cap down over his eyes and focuses his attention on the stew, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it here.”
“As am I.”
***
“I wish we knew where the Prince was.”
“Are you kidding? The Prince is half the reason we’re in this mess.”
“He should’ve just done his job in the first place instead of playing soldier.”
Katie frowns to herself while warming her hands by a large fire. Several days after finding the first ruins, she and Keith encountered a group of Marmorans (the first of several that they would later cross paths with) that had banded together after their villages were destroyed, roaming around the country trying to stay alive. It was from them that Keith learned it had been two years since the capital fell to Zarkon’s forces. Two years he’d been gone, imprisoned in a lifeless body a world away.
The Marmorans welcomed them into their group last night, and offered Katie spare boots and gloves, and a cloak, which she readily accepted. Now it’s shortly after noon, and she’s sitting by the camp’s fire waiting for Keith to return with the villagers’ morning hunting party. He’d felt the need to repay them, and they were glad for a soldier’s company. His presence has a rousing effect on the whole group.
Evidently the soldiers are well respected, but the prince… not so much.
It’s… somewhat contrary to how Keith had framed the young man.
A commotion on the edge of camp draws her attention, and Katie rises to her feet to see the hunting party emerging from the woods cheerily. Keith joins her by the fire after helping dress the game.
“Are you doing alright?” he asks.
Katie nods, “Yes, and much warmer now thanks to these,” she holds her hands up, wiggling her fingers to show off her gloves.
“That’s good,” Keith smiles a little, “it’s a shame they don’t have much else, but that’s understandable.”
“It was very kind of them to part with them regardless,” she motions for Keith to sit down next to her. He seems to hesitate for a moment, but settles down beside her, his legs pulled back from the fire.
“We should leave in the morning. I saw a familiar landmark while we were hunting, so I’m fairly certain we’re heading in the right direction. The villagers will be moving on to the west in a few days’ time, however,” Keith says.
Katie nods, smoothing out the skirt of her nightgown. “They were talking about the prince while you all were out.” Perhaps it’s not best to mention it… but she is nothing if not curious.
“They were?” Keith seems surprised and… disheartened.
“It… wasn’t as favorable of a view as yours, however,” she frowns.
“I... see,” he says slowly, his voice quiet. “It makes sense. The prince spent some time with the military, so the soldiers are more familiar with him.”
Katie hums, twisting her fingers in her hair in thought. It may be best to change the subject…
“Oh!’ she exclaims, “I saw this incredible bird while you were out,” she starts, going into a long winded description of the unfamiliar animal until Keith recognizes it, smiling at her enthusiasm.
After a little more than a week later the pair find themselves in a similar situation as Katie rushes back and forth between odd, unfamiliar plants in the forest. She asks Keith about each one, and he’s happy to answer, though he sheepishly admits he’s not as good at identifying plants as he is with animals. He’s telling her the uses of a particular plant with a smile, Katie walking beside him when a voice calls out to them from not far off.
“Halt! Identify yourself, soldier!”
Katie freezes, clutching a winter flower in her hands as her eyes move to Keith, frightened.
Keith stops in his tracks, sword drawn in an instant. “Is that…” his brows furrowed, he peers through the trees, “Who calls?”
A tree branch snaps somewhere, “This is the Marmoran Army. Drop your weapons and identify yourself!” the voice calls. It’s a man’s voice, older than Keith, it sounds like.
“It can’t be…” Keith breathes, “Shiro? Is that you?” he calls.
A soldier dressed in a uniform similar to Keith’s steps through the underbrush, sword in hand. A shock of white hair against black gives him a unique appearance. When he sees Keith, his eyes light up.
“Keith! You’re alive!” he smiles, the two men sheathing their weapons before embracing.
“I can’t believe you’re alive either, Shiro! I thought the south fort fell first!” Keith exclaims, stepping back.
Shiro shakes his head, “It did, but I was sent east to deliver the message. When the east fort fell, I escaped, but only just.”
“That was you? I was there— I… nevermind,” Keith holds a hand to his head, “I’m so glad you’re alive. The others, did they make it out alright?”
“I can’t speak for everyone, but I know some were able to make it to Altea, and some are with me, Hunk and Lance included,” Shiro answers, and Katie notes the visible relief in Keith’s shoulders when he hears that. “But I must ask, Keith, why on Terra do you look like a toy soldier? What happened?”
Keith looks down, “When the fort fell, I was trying to get as many of my men out as possible. The witch was there,” he pauses, holding out his hand, “she turned me into a nutcracker, of all things, and chased me into another realm. I’ve been stuck as an inanimate object for two years, apparently,” he explains. “Returning through the portal reconciled my appearance somewhat, but I’ve yet to return to normal. I’ll need to either slay the witch or seek help from Altea.”
Shiro takes Keith’s hand, turning it over in astonishment, “You really are made of wood, how strange.” He lets go, looking back at Keith, “How were you able to return?”
“I’m not entirely certain, but I imagine there was more magic involved. Zarkon and his witch managed to find me in the other realm. I’ll spare you the details, but Katie saved my life and helped me to drive them back, however they captured her brother,” he explains, gesturing to her.
Katie cursties politely, “I’m accompanying Keith to rescue my brother. He’s my only family left.”
Shiro nods, “I see. Well, there’s room for the both of you in the bunker, if you’d like to come. We can probably spare you some warmer clothes too, miss,” he adds, looking to Katie.
Keith glances at her questioningly, and she smiles, “That sounds lovely, thank you!”
He nods and turns back to his friend, “Lead the way, Shiro.”
Another ten minutes of walking brings the three of them to a well hidden bunker entrance. Shiro enters by himself, wanting to make sure the men are all decent before bringing a lady inside. A few minutes pass, and another soldier leaves the bunker in the direction they’d come from, no doubt to fill in for Shiro’s patrol. He seems surprised to see Keith, but says nothing, simply tipping his cap at the two of them on his way. Shortly after, Shiro returns to usher them in.
The inside of the bunker is dark, but there’s enough lanterns hanging from the ceiling to see decently well regardless. Well enough for Katie to see all the soldiers inside drop to their knees when the door shuts and Keith is no longer silhouetted by the light from the doorway.
“Welcome back, your Highness,” chorus several of the soldiers, and Keith stiffens.
“At ease, men,” he says slowly, hands raised as if calming a spooked horse, though the action seems more for himself than for the soldiers. “I’m glad to see you’re all well.”
The soldiers rise, some of them returning to their earlier business, but a small group pushes past the rest, eager to get to Keith. At the front are two tall men, one broad and one thin, with wide smiles on their faces.
“With all due respect, sir,” says the broad one, “why do you look like you’re made out of wood?”
“Hunk, you know you can call me by my name,” Keith places a hand on each man’s shoulder, “Lance, Hunk, it’s good to see you two.”
Lance grabs Keith’s hand and holds it in front of his face, “You really are made of wood!” he exclaims. “Seriously, what happened?”
Keith frowns. “I was hoping Shiro would relay that to you all,” he grumbles, but repeats the story of how he came to be a nutcracker, albeit in fewer words.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back,” Hunk smiles.
Lance nods, “We might be able to kick some motivation into the troops finally.” He then bows to Katie with a flourish, “Miss, we’re incredibly grateful that you’ve helped our Prince return to us. If you need anything, we’ll do our best to assist,” he says, accompanied by a chaste kiss to the back of her hand.
Keith frowns, folding his arms across his chest, “Is there somewhere we can sit and rest a bit? I’d also like to discuss some plans to take back the palace. Katie’s brother has been taken hostage and Zarkon’s time is up.” There’s an edge to his voice as he says Zarkon’s name.
Shiro smiles, “I like your thinking.” He gestures for both of them to follow him, leading them away from the troops to the bunker’s map room. It’s rather sparse, and the furniture mostly utilitarian, but it’s a place to rest, and quiet.
Katie suddenly feels tired, like all the activity of the past two weeks is catching up with her.
“The men all sleep on their bedrolls in the main room, though there isn’t much space left in there now. We can sort out your sleeping arrangements later,” Shiro says, “but for now, have a seat, and I’ll see about getting you both some bedding and something to eat, alright?”
They both thank him as he leaves, and Katie moves from her spot by the door to investigate the map on the table littered with markers and colored pieces. She trails a finger along the wood to the end of the table where she stops and turns to face Keith. He still looks stiff. Though, being made of wood doesn’t help his case much.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I should have told you, but at first I didn’t know if there was even a kingdom to return to in the first place, and then I found myself caught up in a half-truth I couldn’t unravel.”
Katie blinks, as if not expecting him to be quite so forthcoming. “I knew,” she says.
“You… knew?” Keith asks, confused. “How? When?”
“After you got back from that hunting trip with the first villagers we met,” Katie explains. “I pieced it together from what you told me and what those people were saying. I’m not angry with you.”
“I abandoned my people, Katie. I quite nearly lied to you. It was cowardly behavior and I’m ashamed,” he admits, baffled by her response.
“And I understand why you made those decisions and forgive you,” Katie says. “It’s not difficult, and quite frankly, I don’t mind that you didn’t tell me your title. I would have made a fool of myself attempting to behave in a proper manner.”
Keith snorts lightly, “Really?”
Katie nods, “I’ve never been keen about strict manners and what is or is not proper. It’s iresome, and whenever I need to be conscious of it I inevitably make a mess of things. I enjoy having the ability to speak plainly with you,” she smiles, maneuvering around the table towards him, “and I am fond of our companionship. If you had told me right away I wouldn’t have dared speak quite so much as I did and we wouldn’t have gotten to know each other. So, I’m thankful.”
Finally, Keith lets his shoulders drop, “Then I’m glad. I have also enjoyed your company. I was only ever able to be close with the soldiers, and even that was after a considerable amount of convincing.”
His gaze falls to the floor, “I was… lonely, after my father died. The court insisted that I take the throne immediately, but I was sixteen and felt so direly unprepared for the task. My father’s advisor took my side, allowing me the two years before I turned eighteen to grow into the role… but Zarkon was never among the best of men,” Keith’s hands curl into fists at his sides, “I should have seen his betrayal coming.”
Frowning, Katie takes his hands in hers, uncurling his fingers and coaxing him to relax, “Keith… you were grieving, and you were young. What Zarkon did was beyond your control, and clearly he’s far more evil than you realized at the time. It sounds to me like your time with the army was exactly what you needed though. You gained leadership experience and built loyalty among your troops. A good ruler needs that, and as we saw when we walked in, you built a lasting connection with your soldiers. All the villagers know is rumors, but these men know the real you. The Keith I know is the real you, without the crown’s weight,” Katie smiles, “and I believe in you.”
Keith wraps his hands around hers and bows his head, “Thank you, Katie. That means a lot to me,” he straightens up and smiles with a warmth she hasn’t yet seen from him that seems as if to strike her in the heart.
***
Another week is spent rallying forces in hiding from around the country and preparing them to seize the capital. Keith and Shiro hole themselves up in the map room with some of the other remaining officers for a good amount of time to plan out the operation. An improvised training camp is set up outside the bunker for the soldiers to brush up on their skills. Weapons are repaired, provisions sourced, and uniforms and materials are patched and mended.
Katie being the sole woman within five miles of a rallying army proves to be an interesting experience. She’d been eager to visit with the troops out of curiosity, and to explore the nearby forest for a walk, and so Keith had ensured that himself or one of his close friends always accompanies her outside of the bunker’s interior rooms (of which one had been cleaned and set aside for her privacy).
On one such excursion with Hunk, Katie took note of the poor condition of some soldiers’ uniforms, and quickly realized she could make herself useful with a skill she had once lamented as a waste of time: needlework. With her nimble fingers she can mend holes and tears and patches three times as fast as the inexperienced soldiers, and after sweeping into a meeting in the map room with the idea and being granted a hearty approval from Keith, she sets up by the cooks outside with a pile of uniforms, eager to be helpful.
So for the hours of the day in which Keith is occupied with rebuilding the Marmoran army, Katie tasks herself with her needlework, and for once, she enjoys it. Every so often Keith comes to visit with her, and they take a walk around the camp or to visit the soldiers. In the evenings they sit by a fire and chat much like they did before arriving at the bunker, Katie telling him about the stories the soldiers share or the birds she sees, and Keith lamenting the arguments between his officers and seeking her sensible opinion on some of the matters that come up in their meetings.
The week passes quickly, and soon the troops are mustered and prepared to set off for the capital. Shiro had arranged to have horses readied for her and Keith alongside the other officers, which Katie had been overjoyed to learn.
Riding had once been among her favorite pastimes, but after the fire she and Matt had nowhere to keep the family’s horses and had been forced to sell them, including her own horse, Emerald. Now, bundled up in her borrowed winter gear, the three day march is much more pleasant than the first half of the journey, and she spends a good deal of time either showering her assigned mount with affection or talking with Keith and his friends.
On the evening of the third day the Marmoran Army camps in the forest skirting the capital city and quickly mobilizes to put the plan into action. With troops storming the city, Shiro, Keith, and Katie sneak inside the palace under cover of night. Their first stop: the dungeons.
Despite a four year absence, Keith is still familiar with the structure’s layout, and guides them down to the cells with ease. What they find is rather unexpected.
After Keith and Shiro take out the dungeon guards, Katie slips inside first with Keith trailing her, and Shiro posted by the door as a lookout. Katie stops the moment she turns away from the door, her hands flying to her mouth to swallow a scream.
Statues. Cells upon cells full of them. People frozen in various contortions of fear and agony, encased in stone. Katie feels Keith’s hand on her shoulder and spins into him.
“How?” she asks, peering around the room. It’s painful to look at. “Can we possibly reverse this?”
“I’m… not sure,” Keith replies, retracting his hand to flip through the key ring he’d pilfered from the guards, “Let’s try and find your brother, at least. Maybe they aren’t all like this.”
Katie gives a little determined nod, “Okay. He has short hair, the same color as mine, and at the time it was a bit messy from sleep, so it stuck out like this,” she gestures with her fingers behind her head, “and he wears glasses. Big round ones.”
Keith nods, “Alright. I’ll unlock all the cells and we can look through them, but we’ll need to move quickly.”
Katie mock salutes, which brings a hint of a smile to Keith’s face, and soon the two of them are combing through the cells in search of Matt.
They make good progress, until a small creature scurries past Katie in the shadows, surprising her. She leaps back, a hand brushing against one of the statues she had until then been careful not to touch from an abundance of caution, and the sudden change in texture from stone to cloth makes her scream. Quickly, she clamps a hand over her mouth and twirls around to see a stony surface dissolving into sparkles, revealing the person trapped within.
Keith is there in an instant, blazing worry etched into his face until he realizes that Katie is staring at another young woman who blinks blearily at her, as if emerging from a long slumber.
“Katie, what happened?” Keith asks, stepping around some of the other statues to reach her.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “Something spooked me so I jumped back, and I touched one of the statues and… restored her, it seems.”
Keith rests a reassuring hand on her shoulder and looks at the young woman whose attention is on them, the last bits of stone falling away from her long blonde pigtails. “Are you alright?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m…” the woman blinks, gasping, “Your Highness! You’re alive! And you’re… made of wood?”
Keith is quick to calm her down, and a brief explanation of the witch’s curse on him prompts another realization from her.
“The witch!” she whispers angrily, “She did this to me. People were disappearing from town and I came to report it… but I was turned to stone.” She looks around her, “And it seems I am not the only one. Oh! My name is Romelle, by the way.”
Keith nods, “I’m glad you’re alright. We’re currently attempting to retake the palace, so I advise that you remain here until my soldiers are able to escort everyone out.” When she nods in agreement, he turns to Katie, “Have you touched any of the other statues?”
Katie shakes her head, “I’ve avoided doing so… there’s still people in them. I don’t want to break one.”
“Miss, do you have any magic ability at all?” Romelle interjects.
“No I…” she doubts it would be wise to reveal she’s from another world entirely, “I never thought I did.”
“Try touching another of the statues,” Romelle encourages, “sometimes it shows itself in strange ways.”
Katie’s gaze flits between Romelle and Keith before she nods, “Okay, I’ll try.” She moves to the next statue in the cell, touching a finger to its outstretched hand.
Lo and behold, it works. The stone sparkles at her touch and begins to reveal another Marmoran citizen.
“I don’t believe it,” Keith whispers, watching as Katie restores the statue next to it as well.
“I wonder why it never worked on you, Keith,” Katie puzzles, helping an older man she’d just released to sit down.
He’d wondered that himself for a brief moment, “It’s possible a different type of magic is involved, or a different caster, unfortunately.”
Katie nods solemnly, moving to release the next prisoner from stone. One by one all of the statues in the cell are revived, and Keith explains the situation to the lot of them before arranging to have Katie restore the rest, with one of the revived prisoners assigned to each cell to calm them down and provide explanations.
After unlocking all the doors, Keith begins to follow Katie from cell to cell, and after a handful are cleared, he’s witness to her glee at reuniting with her brother.
“Matt!” she gasps suddenly, hopping around a few remaining statues in the current cell to a statue of a young man frozen in a defensive position. She fits his stony hands into hers, and as the magic falls away, her brother slowly emerging from the stone, Katie is quick to give him a hug before any words can leave his mouth.
“Katie?” he asks, flabbergasted, “Where are we?”
“We’re in the dungeon of Marmora palace,” Keith answers, as Katie’s face is currently buried in her brother’s shirt. “You were captured from your home and taken here, and ultimately turned to stone, along with the rest of Zarkon’s prisoners.”
“That’s right.. I do remember that. Purple soldiers everywhere...” he frowns, “We’re in… Marmora?”
Katie finally steps back from her brother, wiping her eyes with a smile, “That’s right. The Galran army took you away and imprisoned you here. I came with Keith to find you,” she explains, gesturing toward Keith.
“You two… do not seem to be from here,” Romelle guesses, having accompanied Keith and Katie to help the prisoners emerging from their stone prisons.
Matt shakes his head, his gaze flicking towards Keith, “No, we don’t have wooden men where we come from. Or this… Marmora place.”
Keith plants his hands on his hips, “Normally we don’t have wooden men either, but we do have magic, which Katie seems to have. Somehow. That said, we need to free the remaining prisoners and I need to get to the throne room. I imagine Zarkon’s starting to figure out what’s happening.”
Katie turns toward Keith, “I’m coming with you. Matt’s safe so long as he stays here.”
Keith looks as if he’s about to protest, but Katie crosses her arms defiantly, and he yields, shaking his head with a smile, “Alright. Let’s wrap up here quickly, though. Romelle, if you could relay to Matt what I told you, and possibly a bit about the region, that would be much appreciated.”
“Of course, your Highness,” Romelle nods, while Katie returns to her task of restoring the remaining prisoners, Keith close behind her.
Upon finally exiting the dungeons, they find a somewhat anxious Shiro guarding the door.
“What’s wrong?” Keith asks, leading their trio up a flight of stairs.
“I think the troops have made it to the palace. I heard a few explosions. We’ll need to move carefully,” Shiro explains. “I heard Katie scream, was everything alright in there?”
“I have magic, apparently,” Katie replies quickly, falling into step behind Keith.
Shiro nods in understanding, “That would be quite a surprise.”
Keith holds up a hand and approaches a door, “We’re getting close,” he whispers. Opening it quietly he pokes his head out, and after deeming it safe beckons them to follow him into the corridor.
It’s immediately clear to Katie that whatever decor had been in the palace two years ago is now covered in dark purple banners and strange purple wall sconces. It’s a stark contrast from the bold red and black of the Marmoran soldiers’ uniforms, and from what little decor had been in the northern bunker. Though it is a poor redecoration effort, the dim lighting gives them an unexpected advantage against the warm, earthy tones of the walls and stonework.
Keith leads them through a maze of hallways up to a pair of large, wooden doors with gold inlays.
“We’re here,” he announces, keeping his voice down. “Shiro, I want you to take Katie to the upper deck. Do your best to keep hidden. If there’s any hint that you’ve been seen, leave.”
“What if something happens to you?” Katie asks, taking his hand in her own with a gentle squeeze— though he may not feel it.
“The worst they can do is try to burn me, though I doubt they realize that. I can’t bleed,” he reassures. “Stay safe,” Keith’s eyes flit to Shiro, “Promise me you’ll leave if need be.”
Shiro bows his head, “On my honor.”
Keith nods, satisfied, taking his hand from Katie’s grasp to grip his sword, “If all goes well, today I earn a new title.”
“Good luck!” Katie waves at him as she follows Shiro up to the decks lining the throne room, arriving just in time to hear the doors below swing shut with a heavy thud. Shiro guides her to a pillar they can hide behind and watch the events unfold.
“Zarkon!” Keith roars, loud enough to echo off the chamber walls with ease, his voice accompanied by the sharp sound of a sword drawn from its sheath. He looks small from the viewing deck. “For two years I was locked away in another realm while you laid waste to my people and my country, but no longer! You are no king, Zarkon, and for your cowardice, your treachery, and the evil you have committed, you must die by my hand!”
“Foolish boy!” thunders Zarkon, a massive man descending the steps from the throne, “You fled from your duty and would have crippled the nation had you been in power, someone competent had to fill that throne!” he slashes his sword through the air to gesture at the chair behind him. “I served your father for longer than you have lived, I think I know how to rule!”
“I was a child, and I was grieving! I needed time to heal and mature, not to be thrust into leadership. You failed me when you sent me away to the front. Yes, I learned much during those two years, but I also learned your only hope was that of my death .” Keith raises his sword, advancing on Zarkon, “You were meant to be a mentor, not a tyrant!”
“Very well, boy,” Zarkon rumbles, the large sword in his hand igniting with a strange purple glow, “ Show me what you’ve learned. ” A number of smoky wraiths bubble up from the ground behind him as he marches toward the room’s center. Witches, Katie realizes as their forms become apparent.
“More than you ever will!” roars Keith, his blade clashing in an echo of steel against Zarkon’s.
Zarkon pushes back with a fierce strike which Keith narrowly dodges by virtue of being much smaller. Circling around to Zarkon’s left, he slashes at his side and lands the first blow, enraging the already irate king. Keith’s blade catches on part of Zarkon’s clothes momentarily, giving him enough pause for the larger man to react.
“Insolence!” Zarkon bellows, smacking Keith with the flat of his blade to land a heavy blow that knocks him off his feet and into the wall. Katie winces at the impact, but is glad to see Keith push himself to his feet and charge back into the fight with a fierce yell.
The two trade blows that ring out through the room as Keith runs circles around Zarkon, using his size to his advantage by striking places left unguarded by Zarkon’s slower weapon and movements. He’s brash, recklessly attacking at every opportunity even as Zarkon’s blade threatens to cleave him in two.
“You really are your father’s boy,” Zarkon heaves after catching Keith in the arm with his blade and throwing the prince across the room a second time, “but you fight like Krolia.”
Pulling himself to his feet with a huff, Keith glances at his damaged arm; the sword had only sunk an inch deep into the wood, taking a chunk out with it.
He doesn’t feel a thing.
Keith seizes his weapon and rushes back to Zarkon, “ Don’t speak her name! ” he growls, attacking in a flurry of blows that drives the larger man back several paces.
“Pest!” Zarkon steps back, putting distance between them, “Druids, to me!” The shadows trailing him begin to glow at his words, and a swarm of purple daggers appear in the air, zipping towards Keith and biting into the ground as he rolls to avoid them.
“Coward,” Katie whispers, balling her fists at her sides. She looks at Shiro, “That’s cheating.”
“I know,” Shiro frowns, “We have to believe in Keith. There isn’t anything else we can do; this is his fight.”
Could they do something, though? Katie turns her attention back to the fight below them. If she could reverse the spell turning the prisoners to stone, might she be able to do other things?
An itchy sensation in the air drags her attention away from Keith and up to the witches— no, druids— surrounding Zarkon, their arms raised as purple light swirls in their palms. Magic. She watches as one by one they hurl their balls of magic at Keith as he dodges both their attacks and the slashing blows of Zarkon’s blade.
“There has to be something I can do,” she grumbles under her breath, recalling the feeling in her fingertips she had grown to understand somewhat as she freed the prisoners from stone. She stares at her hands, trying to recreate it but… different. A shield. A shield seems right. If those druids can make magic balls and daggers, then surely she can make a shield.
Katie screws her eyes shut and conjures up an image of a shield in her mind, willing it into existence in her hands. This feels right somehow. Like she’s meant to do this.
“Katie, what are you doing?” Shiro whispers, a hint of awe in his voice that tells her she must be doing something . She doesn’t answer him, only focusing her efforts more.
The clash of blades peals through the chamber again and again, and each time she strengthens her idea of the shield, until the sizzling in the air reaches her again, and she opens her eyes to find a translucent green shield in her hands. Glancing up, she spots the druids readying their attack once more, and she turns to Shiro.
“How can I get this to Keith?” she asks, holding the shield close to her chest.
Shiro looks from her to the fight below them with a frown, “It’s possible we could throw it but… we’d risk giving away our position.”
“Give away what position?” whispers a new voice, causing Katie to bite back a scream again, but her expression brightens when she sees the source of the voice in the doorway.
“Lance!” she calls quietly, beckoning him to join her and Shiro behind their pillar, “What are you doing here?”
“Part two of Keith’s plan,” Lance smiles, crouching down next to them. “The city is ours, and we’ve done a clean sweep of the palace. All that’s left is for His Highness to knock Zarkon down a peg, or several,” he grins and looks over his shoulder, “Hunk, get up here.”
Hunk’s face appears briefly from behind the door, “Okay!” A few seconds pass before he reappears with a line of soldiers trailing behind him, silently spreading out around the viewing deck. With them are the freed prisoners, and plenty of other civilians they seem to have picked up, as well as a handful of people in violet robes.
Katie points to one of them, “Who are they?”
“Those are some of the royal mages. They’ve been holding out in Luxite Stronghold down south all this time. We sent a messenger to rally them with the army, but they didn’t arrive until you and Keith had already reached the palace,” Lance explains, watching as they begin to gesture in unison, hands glowing bright lavender. “They’re putting up a barrier around the deck. I uh, may have had a slip of the tongue and mentioned that Keith would be dueling Zarkon and… well, the citizens wanted to see. I doubt he’d be against additional support, however,” Lance grins, peering over the railing carefully. He pulls his head back a little too quickly for Katie’s liking.
“What’s wrong?” she eyes Lance’s face as his eyebrows knit together.
Lance chuckles nervously, “It’s just, ah... Let’s say it’s a good thing Keith’s currently made of wood.”
Katie frowns, holding up her shield, “Then I need to get this to him. Can you help me?”
Lance looks at the magical shield in awe, “You made this?” he directs his gaze back up at her, surprised, “Wait, you can do magic? Since when?”
“Since today, apparently. I’m the one that freed the prisoners from stone in the dungeon. And now… I’ve managed to make this.”
Lance puts a hand to his chin, “Once the barrier is complete, I think we can throw it to him. That barrier will be impossible for Zarkon’s druids to get through— Kolivan’s on the deck with his team. They’re some of our best mages.”
“Alright,” Katie nods, gripping the shield with the hope that she can continue to imbue it with strength. “Tell me when.”
Lance gives her a brief salute and shifts to keep an eye on the mages’ barrier, while Katie refocuses her attention on Keith.
Lance had been right about the prince’s condition. Scorch marks pepper his arms and legs, and there’s more than one gash cut deep into the wood, as if he’s using that trait to his advantage. It makes her angry— there’s no way to know if the damage will be reversed once the spell is lifted, he could bleed out after the king and his druids are taken care of, for all they know.
Katie hugs her shield close, eyes following Keith as he dodges attacks and lands hits of his own. Once the barrier is up, it feels like an eternity until finally Lance takes her hand and leads her over to another pillar, Shiro following close behind.
“Here,” he points over the edge of the railing, “It looks like Keith is going to circle back around Zarkon and score a blow. When he does, that’ll be the best opportunity to throw it.” Evidently Lance is familiar with Keith’s fighting style.
Katie grins, remembering how she’d successfully hit both Zarkon and the druid back home with her slippers, “I’m ready.”
She watches Keith clash with Zarkon again, deflecting a particularly vicious swipe at his leg to knock Zarkon off balance. Just like Lance predicted, Keith weaves around the larger man to slash at his shoulder from behind, toppling Zarkon long enough for Keith to catch his breath— that’s her chance.
“Keith!” Katie calls as loud as she can and jumps to her feet, the shield held high over her head, “Catch this!” She hurls it over the railing when he looks up at her, and perhaps it’s the magic, but it seems to fall right into his hands.
Keith wastes no time in fitting the shield to his arm and raising it high with a tired grin for her to see— and that’s when he sees the gathered crowd, mouth agape for just a split second before renewed determination washes over his face. He turns around in time to see Zarkon heave himself upright, his movements labored.
Keith twirls his sword in his hand and raises its point at Zarkon’s looming figure, “This ends now!” With a renewed vigor, Keith continues to cut away at his opponent, even as the druids’ bombardment increases. Katie’s shield proves to be a huge advantage, giving Keith another method to block Zarkon’s attacks while making more of his own as the fight continues.
Not long after that Hunk reappears alongside Katie, Lance, and Shiro on the deck with Matt and Romelle in tow. They’d seen her throw the shield and pleaded with the soldier to bring them over, he explained.
“Katie!” Matt cheers, “What was that?”
Katie clasps her brother’s hands in hers with a smile, “You won’t believe this, but I appear to have the ability to use magic here, beyond freeing people from stone!” she turns back to watch the fight, wrapping her fingers around the railing. “I made that shield with magic. I just hope it’s enough to help Keith.”
Matt peers down over the edge of the viewing deck, “Well, he certainly seems skilled with the sword. It’s rather impressive, really.”
“Yes, but I can still worry,” Katie’s brows knit as Keith blocks a strike from Zarkon with the shield, one that surely would have taken his head otherwise. It’s awful to watch, but she can’t look away.
It’s when Keith is locked in a contest of strength with Zarkon that the shield reveals the full extent of its power, as a druid attempts to blast the prince with a beam of magic, only for the shield to emit a bright green pulse that reflects the druid’s attack. A shrill scream echoes against the walls as the druid dissolves into the air, eliciting a cheer from the gathered crowd.
The tide is turned, and before long the remaining druids are felled in a similar manner as Keith taunts them into attacking him, only to return their fire with the shield.
At last, Keith stands across from Zarkon, the king’s blood on his sword as they stare each other down and heave air into their lungs. Keith takes the first step forward, slowly approaching Zarkon, until his stride breaks into a sprint and he crosses the distance with his sword poised to kill.
His own sword held high, Zarkon prepares to bring it down and cleave Keith in two as he draws near, but at the last second, Keith feints to the side, dodging the blow as he sweeps his blade up— directly into Zarkon’s heart.
Zarkon slumps, his weapon falling from his hand with the clatter of steel.
Keith steps away and sheaths his sword in one fluid motion as Zarkon’s body hits the ground. He slides the shield off his arm, walking a wide circle around to the fallen sword, which glimmers with purple light as its form shifts to that of a staff. Kneeling in front of it, Keith smashes the shield down onto the staff, fracturing it in a blinding flash of light that fills the room.
When the light fades, all of the soldiers on the viewing deck are astonished to find their wounds healed and weapons repaired, their uniforms mended as if brand new. The citizens in the crowd gasp at the embellishments made to their clothing, sparkling with bright metals and white laces. The throne room itself is full of sunlight, its curtains thrown back and doors wide open, the gloomy banners of the Galra replaced with bright Marmoran flags, and not a trace of the harrowing fight can be found, not even Zarkon himself.
And in the center of it all is Keith, in the flesh.
He seems a bit unsure of himself in the spotlight, but raises a hand to wave at everyone gathered on the viewing deck, prompting an eruption of cheers for the new king.
From her place on the deck, Katie is all smiles and cheers alongside everyone else, her nightgown and borrowed gloves replaced with a sparkling green dress and her hair curled in gentle waves. Seeing Keith triumphant reminds her of being in a similar position not too long ago, having tossed her slippers to the floor, and an equally foolish, similar idea sparks in her brain, propriety thoroughly forgotten.
Katie turns to her brother with an impish smile, “Matt, I need you to help me over the railing.”
Matt looks at her in confusion, “What? Why?”
“Trust me,” Katie pulls him toward the edge, “Please?”
Matt, ever unable to resist an earnest request from her, acquiesces and hoists her over the wrought iron to stand on the ledge, though nothing could prepare him for the heart attack she gives him moments later.
“Keith!” Katie calls. He turns to see her waving from above, and a smile of recognition splits across his face as he hurries over to her side of the room and removes his cap with a flourish as he bows. He replaces his cap as he rises, arms outstretched like before as an unspoken I’ll catch you.
Katie jumps, the glittering fabrics of her dress fluttering around her as she falls safely into his arms below. He sets her down gently and kneels to kiss her hand like before, only this time he holds both her hands as he stands up.
“You saved me again,” Keith smiles, the rosy color on his cheeks wholly natural.
“I suppose I did,” Katie laughs, “I couldn’t let you be chopped into toothpicks.”
“Yes, that would be tragic,” Keith chuckles, “because then I wouldn’t be able to ask… Katie, will you stay? And be my queen?”
“My original goal in coming here was to find my brother,” Katie starts, glancing over her shoulder to spot a teary-eyed Matt on the viewing deck, “but in my journey to do so, I think I also found love. So to answer your question,” Katie smiles and presses a kiss to Keith’s cheek, “ Yes .”
Grinning, Keith pulls her closer for a more thorough kiss, and when he steps back, he asks, “Would you like to dance?”
Katie smiles lovingly, “Of course.”