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Post by Aphelyon on Sept 9, 2016 2:00:24 GMT -5
Seven years after his parents' deaths at the paws of one of the lions who are meant to protect, the young king of Lennad turns 18. In preparation for his official coronation, noblemen and women come from all over the kingdom to witness the event. Anden isn't sure he's ready to accept the responsibility of being Lennad's ruler- and an assassination attempt on the night of the reception only serves to further his uncertainty. Still, the attempt on the young king's life proves to be a blessing as well. It reveals a darker plot is underway, one that stretches across the entire kingdom and sinks its fingers even into its deepest foundation. It forces Anden to come face to face with the lions that he now fears, in the form of a young lion named Ukimsiumeisi- the lion who saved his life, and who may now prove to be one of the only creatures left who is still truly loyal to the monarchy.
So, the spiel I always give when telling people about this story of mine: this is going to be a very long story. It was originally planned to be pretty much what the summary, well, summarizes: a reasonably short, concise story about a young king who comes of age and about gets assassinated, all the while trying to acclimate himself to his newfound responsibility and, if he's really lucky, find a queen. As I started writing, I kept having more ideas and it became something far more complex. I now have enough content for at least two books planned out; more likely three, or possibly four if everything's not wrapped up nice and neat by the end of 3.
Many of the characters are loosely based around myself and my friends, which I somewhat regret now that I plan to make it a long and hopefully published story, but they're now integral to the story and I can't really change them very much, so oh well. Self-insert it is. The basic idea of the story is actually also inspired by the song "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men, most obviously in the fact that it's about a king and his literal lions, but there will be more similarities as it goes on, which funnily enough were originally unintentional.
Anyways, to give a better explanation of what the story is, it's basically a fantasy story in a setting that's sort of a mixture between medieval and Victorian. It mostly involves royalty (or at least, the first book will) and the lions (who I guess could be considered royal/noble?), primarily Anden and the like 3 people he actually comes into contact with on a regular basis, including the aforementioned lions, which are essentially shapeshifters (lions at heart, who can take a human shape) that are born and raised almost exclusively to protect the royal family and the castle, and to carry out their other defensive needs. Anden turns 18 and is going to be officially crowned and take the responsibility of ruling over his kingdom of Lennad, but things of course get more complicated than that.
This is the rough draft of the story, so there will probably be a lot of changes in the eventual finished version. For now, the chapters are fairly short (many will be combined into longer chapters later) and not especially polished, but it should be decent at least. My two friends who have actually read it thus far are WAY more into it than they should be so I guess it must be okay. In any case, I wanted to expose it to more people to see what kind of feedback I can get on it. Unfortunately, I'll have to change and remove some wording in one or two places to keep it forum appropriate, but if you want to read the original version, it can be found on Wattpad.
So, I guess without any further ado, here's Lionhearted.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
- Post 1 - Chapter 1-2
- Post 2 - TBA
- Post 3 - TBA
- Post 4 - TBA
- Post 5 - TBA
- Post 6 - TBA
- Post 7 - TBA
- Post 8 - TBA
- Post 9 - TBA
- Post 10 - TBA
- Post 11 - TBA
- Post 12 - TBA
- Post 1 - TBA
- Post 14 - TBA
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Post by Aphelyon on Sept 9, 2016 2:00:34 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1
Greenish shadows rippled across the wooden floor as morning light filtered through swaying curtains drawn in front of a large bay window. The room was quiet, the only sound that of gentle snoring coming from under the rumpled covers of a large four-poster bed that sat parallel to the window, its dark green curtains- matching those on the window- pulled open and tied with golden-colored rope.
The peace was disturbed with a loud rapping on the dark wooden door of the room, across from the window. The snoring stopped abruptly as a voice called through: "Sire! It's past 9:00 and you would do well to be up by now. For real this time!"
"Yeah, I'm up," replied a groggy voice from under the covers. "I'll... be out there in a bit."
Beneath the covers a shape stirred and slowly raised itself into a sitting position- a young man of 18, with long brown hair that fell currently in a tangled mess down to about his mid-back. A short, scraggly beard covered the bottom part of his face and stuck out at odd angles. He wore only undershorts for sleeping in, and what could be seen of his body revealed that he was rather chubby- not fat, but certainly not toned, though his size could be attributed to his large build and broad shoulders. Almond-shaped eyes blinked open revealing dark brown irises that seemed to shine with flecks of gold in the morning light. He pushed the covers aside and swung his legs off the bed, revealing long claw marks that marred his left calf, warping the muscle and skin.
The boy stretched and stood, then trudged over to his dresser on the opposite wall from his bed, limping slightly in favor of his left leg. A set of nice clothes had been laid out the night before, which he quickly adorned: a dark red button-down shirt with a black tie and dark gray vest, and a black jacket to go over that, as well as black pants and shiny black shoes with a slight heel, though he hardly needed that, as he was already quite tall. He set the shoes, vest, and jacket aside for now- he would put those on later.
Once he was- mostly, at least- dressed, he grabbed a fancy ivory comb from a small top drawer in his dresser, turned to the tall mirror that sat next to it, and went about wrestling all the tangles out of his hair, which he left down for now. He smoothed his beard, then slipped on his shoes. He left the jacket on the dresser; he wouldn't need it until later. As he headed out of the room, he grabbed an old, tarnished bronze pocket watch from his bedside table and flicked it open to check the time. 9:42 am. Closing the watch and slipping it into his pocket, he pushed open the dark wooden door of his room and stepped into the hallway.
Outside, two lightly-armored guards waited, lounging on a pair of wooden chairs. Each wore a chainmail cuirass and plate greaves and gauntlets, with a narrow rapier sword resting in sheaths at their hip. One of the guards had on his helmet, while the others' rested in his lap. Both guards stood as the boy exited the room, bowing respectfully.
"King Anden," greeted one of them, who appeared to be the older of the two. "Where are we to escort you?"
"To the dining hall," the young king replied. Something appeared to be on his mind, as he replied rather thoughtlessly and didn't directly look at either guard. Almost without seeming to realize it, he removed his watch from his pocket and began snapping it open and closed, turning it in his hand and running his thumb over the intricate designs that spider-webbed across its surface.
The older guard's eyes watched Anden's movements curiously, but he didn't question him. Instead, he simply inclined his head and nodded to the other guard, who moved down the hall in front of the other two. Anden followed- looking a bit annoyed- and the first guard took up the rear.
The three made their way through the halls, which were lined on one side with wooden doors identical to that of Anden's room, and on the other side with tall windows with white curtains, which were currently drawn open to let the morning light shine through and cast rectangles of light across the crimson carpet. The walls of the halls were made of a lighter wood than the doors- pale to the point of nearly being white- and adorned with countless paintings and tapestries. Shelves, tables, and cabinets also sat here and there against the wall or beneath a window, each filled with various items ranging from a rough wooden pipe to rings set with precious stones and even a massive, intricately-carved wolf skull.
As they rounded a corner, Anden balked for a moment. At the end of this short stretch of hallway was a set of double doors, larger than the rest but made of the same dark wood and otherwise normal. The only unusual aspect of the doors compared to the rest of the hall is that a large and very much alive lioness lay next to it, looking bored. The beast eyed the guards without interest, her tail flicking back and forth impatiently.
Anden tightened his grip on his watch- which was still in his hand- and nodded for the guards to continue. The lion was no threat, but even still, the king tensed as he passed by it, watching it warily.
Only once the doors swung shut behind them did Anden relax again, his gaze passing across the room that now lay before him. It was a large room, though not massive- it fit a long black-wood table in the center, large enough to seat twenty people, and left plenty of space around. Across the table from where Anden now stood was a large stone fireplace, though it currently sat empty and swept clean of ashes. On either end of the room to his left and right was another set of doors like the ones through which he had entered.
Anden approached the table as the two guards who had accompanied split, each heading towards one of the doors on either end of the room. The table was laid out with Anden's breakfast at the head of the table. A few places down there sat a middle-aged man with his back to the fireplace and various papers laid out before him in a somewhat haphazard manner. A quill rested in an inkwell in the center of the table, next to a low-burning candle that cast bright, flickering light over his parchments. He brushed one hand through his short black hair, a tired expression on his face as he looked over the papers, but as Anden seated himself he looked up and flashed a bright smile.
"You look well this morning," he commented in place of a greeting. "I take it you slept well?"
Anden shrugged, eyeing the food before him before selecting a soft biscuit. "Well enough. No worse or better than usual, though the guards following me around is becoming rather annoying. You, however, look quite cheerful. Is there something going on that I should be especially happy about? Any word on Countess Esphia's murder, perhaps?"
The man frowned. "No, nothing on that I'm afraid. Sorry, but your guards will remain."
Anden sighed, going for another biscuit. "What is it then?"
"The plans for the reception are going swimmingly. A lot better than I would've expected, for that matter. Even your cousin Myrenna agreed to attend. It's looking like it will be quite a party."
Anden snorted in response, rolling his eyes. "Are you implying I should be happy about that?"
"Well of course." The man went back to shuffling through his papers, brow furrowing over his dark blue eyes as he scanned one. Then he grabbed his quill and marked something on the paper before setting it aside and looking back up at the king. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it more than you think you will. Nobles are coming from every major city in the kingdom in preparation for your coronation. It'll be a good experience for you. After all, when was the last time you had company? I'm sure there are plenty of young noblewomen around your age who are just dying to befriend you."
"Yes, because what noble girl doesn't hope to be queen someday," Anden muttered, toying with some strawberries at the edge of his plate.
The man raised one dark eyebrow. "And inevitably one will be, whether it's because she catches your eye later today or because you settle for her for political reasons in five years. But eventually you must choose a queen."
Anden sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And if I don't?"
"Then, obviously, you will have no children and the throne will pass to Countess Myrelia or- more likely by then- her children. And people will talk."
"About what?" Anden replied wryly, raising his eyebrows. The man frowned, but before he could reply the door to his left opened.
"Sir Imuel!"
The man straightened up, turning to face the newcomer: a young man probably in his twenties, modestly dressed and looking somewhat nervous as he stopped at the end of the table, bowing in King Anden's direction before again addressing the older man.
"I've just received word from a herald of Aresha. Prince Lyden will be attending tonight." The man balked as Sir Imuel's frown deepened to a look somewhere between panic and anger, but he swallowed and continued somewhat nervously. "The message was supposed to arrive sooner to give you apt time to prepare, but trouble with, um, bandits near Naezaar delayed it."
Imuel nodded slowly, a thoughtful look darkening his eyes, then waved his hand to dismiss the messenger. "Very well. Thank you for bringing me this news. I will prepare accordingly." The messenger nodded, giving a shallow bow, and hurried out of the room, the door closing loudly behind him. For a moment, there was silence. Then Anden cracked a small grin.
"You were boasting about how smoothly things were going?" he said in a somewhat teasing voice, and Imuel glowered.
"I'll have to bring in more guards to protect the both of you. And I don't have time to bring in more humans for the night, so you know what that means." He said this almost scoldingly, and Anden's amused expression immediately dropped.
"You can't bring more lions!" he exclaimed. "I told you, no more than the two at the entrance."
Imuel sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes in a gesture of exasperation. "I know you don't like them, but there's no choice. With both you and the prince in the same place- not to mention lords, ladies, counts and countesses from all over Lennad- then some kind of funny business is inevitable. And you know as well as I do that if Prince Lyden gets hurt on our watch it will likely start another war."
Anden scowled. "And we also both know you could bring in more soldiers if you wanted to."
Imuel leaned back, glaring at the young king. "Yes, I could. But lions are safer. They're faster, stronger, they have better senses.... That and their reputation alone is enough to stop most wrongdoers in their tracks. Whether you like it or not, you're better off with lions around."
"Tell that to Mom and Dad," Anden muttered, crossing his arms defensively.
Imuel let out a sigh and his expression become more sympathetic. "What happened to you three was tragic and no doubt traumatizing, but eventually you have to move on. It's been seven years. And don't forget, it was lions who saved you too."
"They wouldn't have had to if they weren't there in the first place," Anden retorted, not meeting Imuel's eye.
The older man was silent for a moment, as if gauging his response. "Lions have served the royal families of Lennad for nearly 300 years. In all that time, there's been only two incidents of one turning on humans, including seven years ago. They're like dogs. Sentient dogs, but dogs nonetheless. Inevitably, one will bite the hand that feeds it. But the rest are loyal; they're taught to be from birth. You've experienced one attack- the chances that you will again are infinitesimal."
Anden was quiet as he glared at his plate, his arms still crossed. Then he shrugged. "Fine, do as you see fit. But please inform them to keep their distance from me."
Imuel nodded, seeming satisfied. "I will do that." Then he nodded towards Anden's mostly-empty plate. "I see you've finished; you should go prepare for later. I'll come fetch you when it's time."
Anden sighed and nodded, pushing back his chair. His two guards approached from either end of the room, and together they left. Imuel watched the young king leave, then shook his head- an exasperated and somewhat tired look on his face- and went back to his papers.
CHAPTER 2
Anden spent most of the rest of the day in his room. For the most part, it was uneventful; to pass the time he finished reading a book, did some drawing, and paced nervously as he considered what was to come. As the sun sunk lower in the sky, Anden pushed back the curtains and crawled into the bay window, looking out somewhat longingly into the courtyard below. The window was currently locked, and Imuel kept the key- he didn't trust Anden to keep the window closed, and he said it was too risky to keep it open with the current potential threat of foul play.
Still, even through the somewhat-cloudy glass the view from here was magnificent. Below was a well-kept garden courtyard, where part of the reception would later be held. Beyond the gray stone castle walls that surrounded it, the city of Atiraan- the capital of Lennad- sprawled out into the distance. Near the castle, the buildings were several stories tall and built of stone and brick, but past that were thatched roofs and wooden walls stretching down to the harbor where the white sails of merchant ships were barely visible through the haze of distance.
Anden sat there for a while, wishing he could open the window to let the breeze chase away the stuffiness of the room, but for now he settled for the feeling of the sun through the glass and the thoughts of being free of his guards even for just a few hours later that night. Nervousness and anticipation filled him as he thought of the sheer number of people who would be present, and all of whom were coming to meet him, the soon-to-be-crowned king of Lennad. While the idea of that many greetings, that many sets of eyes on him, was daunting, he couldn't deny that Imuel had a point, and that he may somewhat relish in the attention. After all, it had been years since he'd really had a visitor. Even most political matters went to the Council of Advisors established after the death of Anden's parents to rule in his place until he came of age and was officially crowned- and more personal affairs involving the castle or Anden's well-being usually went to Imuel, who acted as Anden's steward. The only person who had come to see him for personal reasons was his uncle, Count Arthan- his mother's brother- and even then it was as much a visit to Anden as it was to his mother's grave. After all, Arthan had missed the funeral due to volatile political circumstances in his own city.
Another part of his nervousness came, however, from a more pressing matter, at least in his opinion: the lions. When the reception was first being planned, Anden had demanded that there be no lions on guard at the party, but Imuel insisted that he at least allow two to guard the main gate, both for safety reasons and because, even more so than the king, many nobles came to Eldercrest Castle to catch a glimpse of the mysterious beasts. Anden had reluctantly agreed, so long as none were let inside while he was present. But now, it seemed inevitable that Anden would come face-to-face with one. Almost subconsciously, he ran his hand over his left calf, feeling the twisting indentations in his muscle as a physical reminder of his fear.
As the sun sunk lower to the horizon, casting the eastern sides of the buildings in deep gray shadows, Anden got up again and went back to the mirror to finish preparing for the reception. He pulled his vest over his shirt, but left the jacket off for the moment- it was too hot and stuffy in his room for it to be at all comfortable. He brushed through his hair again, then tied it into a neat bun with a black ribbon. He was struggling with a black bow tie as he heard a knocking on the door.
"Come in!" he called, before muttering a few choice words under his breath at the tangled mess he was weaving around his neck. The door swung open and Imuel entered. He was now wearing something more suited to a formal ball than the more casual outfit he had had on earlier- a white button down shirt and black vest with a red tie and black pants, under a long pale beige coat. Under his arm he carried a a black top hat. His black hair was neatly combed back, and his rugged beard was freshly trimmed.
"I see you're having problems with that," he commented as he closed the door behind him. Anden only replied with a frustrated grunt, which seemed to amuse the older man. He set his hat on the dresser, grabbing Anden's shoulder to turn him to face him, and set about fixing the tie. Then he stepped back, frowning as he looked the boy over.
"You really should do something else with your hair," he commented, reaching as if to fiddle with the bow, but Anden batted his hand away.
"What's wrong with it? I like it this way," he retorted, reaching up to straighten it.
Imuel shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. It's just rather... feminine, what with the bow."
"Is there something wrong with that?" Anden replied, raising his eyebrows. "You make it sound like there's something wrong with being at all woman-like."
"Well, you are a man," Imuel argued. "So due to that fact... yes, there is."
"Yes, and that obviously means I can't like girly things, like bows or flowers. After all, what would people think if they knew such a powerful man like a me liked things that are pretty," Anden replied sarcastically.
"I know exactly what they would think," Imuel muttered, rolling his eyes, but Anden ignored him as he turned and grabbed his jacket.
"Is it time, then?"
Imuel frowned, looking as though he wanted to say something else, but instead he just nodded, taking up his hat again and heading toward the door. "Yes, the first few guests have just arrived. They're waiting outside, but we're not opening the doors to the ballroom until you're ready. After all, the king should be the first to welcome them to the castle."
Anden grimaced as he grabbed his jacket and followed, not looking forward to having to address the guests. "What should I say?"
Imuel laughed. "'Welcome to Atiraan. This is going to be a nice party, please have a fun time.' Something along those lines. Just.... put it more eloquently."
"No, I'm going to say those exact words," Anden joked as his guards dropped into step behind him. He shivered slightly at the thought of what waited for him downstairs and almost without thinking about it pulled on his jacket, as if to add another layer of protection between himself and reality.
Via the windows that lined the hallway, Anden could see the daylight outside slowly fade, and through each glass rectangle he caught a glimpse of a sky cast brilliantly in oranges and pinks. A few clouds perched on the horizon, their undersides shining gold with the dying rays of the sun, but their gray shadows blending with the darkening sky. With each step, he felt his anxiety mounting.
Before long, they reached a pair of large black doors and Imuel dropped behind the young king, who took a deep breath before pushing them open. They stepped onto a wide balcony overlooking a huge entrance hall, which tonight would serve as the ballroom. It was mostly empty, except for around three dozen human guards and half as many lions, who lounged around their posts, not currently fully alert. They straightened up as Anden and his entourage entered the room, several of the lions quickly smoothing their rumbled fur in preparation for their presentation to the party. The rest of the room was lavishly decorated- several dozen round tables were set up on either side of the marble staircase that led from the balcony to the first floor, each covered with a white cloth and set with a vase of fresh crimson roses. Along one wall were several long tables, these too covered in white tablecloths, but for now they were barren of food. Banners bearing the crest of the royal family were hung on the walls- white with a wide red stripe down the center, and the black silhouette of roaring, crowned lion standing over a rose dominating the center. The middle of the room was clear, and off to the side, an area with several chairs and instrument cases was roped off, though the musicians had not yet arrived. Electric lights adorned the walls around the room and filled with it with pale light, but the silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling flickered with hundreds of red wax candles.
Anden hesitated at the top of the stairs and his gaze drifted to the massive front doors of the castle. Outside, he could hear the guests chattering excitedly, waiting to be let in. He slowly made his way down the steps and across the room, raising his chin defiantly to hide his self-consciousness as the guards turned to watch him, and his prickling fear that threatened to turn to terror as the lions' slitted eyes followed him. He paused in front of the front doors, his heart pounded. He had no idea what he was going to say- he hadn't even thought to plan it on his way here, which he now realized was a dire mistake. Swallowing his anxiety, he pushed the doors open.
The chattering died down as the many people waiting outside turned towards the door, narrowing their eyes against the light that flooded the dark courtyard, which was lit only with a few low-burning and widely-spaced torches. As the people stared up at him, Anden's mouth felt so dry he didn't think he'd ever be able to say another word. After a few seconds of silence, the members of the crowd stooped into bows, which- unfortunately- only served to make Anden feel even more awkward.
"Welcome to Eldercrest Castle," he started as they stood straight again, his voice echoing hollowly through the courtyard. He faltered, not really sure what to say next.
"We are pleased you were all able to attend." Fortunately, Imuel was quicker to the draw and stepped into save Anden from embarrassing himself. Though, to be fair, Anden already felt plenty embarrassed even from the four words he had spoken.
"As I'm sure you all know, tonight is a reception to welcome all of you to Atiraan; a celebration of King Anden's long-awaited coronation, which will occur in three days on his eighteenth birthday. Tonight we celebrate the last days of our young king's childhood, and the beginning of his undoubtedly prosperous rein. There is much more I could say to commemorate this night, but I will not keep you from your merriment any longer. Let the reception begin."
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