Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The Ties that Bind	By : Lady_Kae Category: +M through R > Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch Views: 2280 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters used from the game Ni no Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch. All characters and game related material, plus any lyrics, save for original content is property of their respective owners and no money is being made from this

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: 11/2/13- Needed to make some minor edits. Hopefully you won't notice where ^^ Nonetheless, hope you all enjoy!
Book I: Link

Prolog

A Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch Fanfiction

“ FATHER!” came the stressed cry of a young girl.
Both King Percivical Debrotane and his wife Marion looked towards the hall where they had heard their six year old daughter’s voice carry from and Marion shook her head slightly.
“ If I didn’t know any better, it would sound as if Gascon and Amara have gotten into it...Again.” Marion said, her tone unamused. The queen of Evesta looked over to her companion on the settee, Empress Therese Moritan of Hamelin who in turn looked to her own husband as well. In between them they had one year old Marcassin, who was currently being bounced on the empress’ knee in an effort to keep the babe amused.
“ What will it take for those two to get along?” Vigo, the emperor of Hamelin seethed. He had told his eldest son countless times to stop harrowing the young princess so much. He and Percivical were keen on arranging a marriage between the two but neither ruler would in good conscience go through with it if they weren’t getting along at the moment.
The young princess came tearing through the doors to the sitting room, her young round face red and splotchy from crying and she ran directly into her mother’s waiting arms. “ Mother, why do I have to put up with that detestable little…”
“ Amara, don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Marion hissed, her golden eyes hard as she looked down at her daughter. More than likely, both of the children were in the wrong. They had learned a few years ago that Amara was just as guilty as Gascon was the majority of the time.
Seven year old Gascon entered the sitting room a moment later, his eyes falling over to Amara where she was seated in the queen’s lap. The sound of boots stepping his way broke the young prince from his train of thought as his brown eyes turned up towards his father.
“ Gascon...You and I are going to have a very long talk, young prince.” Vigo said sternly his own brown eyes boring into his son’s.
“ Yes father.” Gascon groaned out. That meant that he was going to be put through drills while his father droned on and on. “ To my credit, she’s the one who started it when she hit me!”
“ Only because you called me an ugly little duckling!” Amara spat, sitting up straight in her mother’s lap.
“ And only after you said I wasn’t any good with magic! I might not have your natural talent, Amara, but that’s where hard work and perseverance will pay off!” Gascon seethed himself. Amara was nothing short of a natural in the healing arts, and she took every opportunity to rub it in Gascon’s face whenever Amara’s uncle, Magnus, would sit the two children and Amara’s cousin Aden down for their lessons in the ancient arts. His brown eyes were narrowed on the young princess as she stuck her tongue out at him and Gascon made to dart forward. To hell with it if she was a girl. She certainly didn’t hit like one! A steady hand on his shoulder stopped the prince from doing just that.
“ Come Gascon…” Vigo growled out. It would seem as if his son needed another lesson in manners when dealing with the opposite sex once more.
“ Vigo a moment if you please. Amara, Gascon, both of you get over here right now.” Percivical said sternly. His blue eyes were narrowed on either child imperiously as he forced the two of them to stand face to face, a hand on either shoulder all but demanding that they not move an inch. “ Both of you will apologize this instant.”
Amara and Gascon both stared each other down hatefully, both stubbornly refusing to say a word. Gascon’s arms were folded in front of his chest staunchly as he looked down to his right and over his shoulder in an attempt to not look at the girl before him. Amara’s blue eyes were narrowed into fine slits themselves as she set her chin in a determined mean, her posture all but screaming her unwillingness to say a word before the prat of a prince before her did. Both children’s attention was drawn from one another as the hand on either of their shoulders gave a tight squeeze. A stern clearing of Vigo’s throat forced Gascon to look towards his father next and their brown eyes met in a silent exchange.
A gracious gentleman will always apologize first to a lady even if he feels he is not in the wrong...came Vigo’s words from a past lecture. Gascon groaned miserably and rolled his eyes a moment before locking them onto Amara’s big blue ones. “ Amara, I apologize for what I said to you earlier and hope that you don’t hold any more ill will towards me for it.” Gascon growled out with seasoned practice. He wanted to get this done and over with considering what he still had ahead of him.
“ I thank you for your apology Gascon and wish to say that I’m sorry as well for my part in our disagreement.” Amara hissed, her eyes still narrowed. She felt her father clench her shoulder a bit tightly at the tone she had used and shot him a dirty look. She wasn’t about to sugarcoat how she felt about Gascon. She couldn’t stand the stupid boy!
Percivical looked down at both children and then to his longtime friend who shook his head sadly. Right now there was nothing for it. The two needed to get past this on their own.
Vigo sighed heavily as he looked between his son and his friend’s daughter. This had better only be a phase between them. He wasn’t sure if he could put up with this for the rest of their lives. “ Come Gascon.” he ordered, striding from the sitting room and into the hallway.
“ Yes Father.” Gascon replied sullenly, but not before shooting Amara a dirty look. If only the brat hadn’t tried to show off when he had fallen down and cut his palm. He had been in the process of getting ready to heal himself when Amara whisked in. “ And Amara...Thank you for healing the cut I sustained, but next time, please allow me to do it. I need the practice after all.” Gascon shrugged out of his jacket before following his father to the courtyard. More than likely, he would be shedding his shirt too with as hot as it was.
Marion’s eyes leveled on her daughter. “ Amara, seeing as how you’re just as guilty in all this, you are to change into your training garb and join Gascon for his punishment. You, daughter, need to learn a bit of humility and patience. Just because you have a knack for something doesn’t mean that you need to go in wands a blazing whenever someone is hurt.”
Amara didn’t dare groan in front of her parents. She would be cursing Gascon the entire way to her chambers to change however. “ Yes mother.” she said, her tone nothing short of displeased. The young princess gathered the front of her dress and stalked from the room.
“ I’ll follow her to be sure she follows your directive, Marion.” Percivical said. Vigo was a taskmaster, but Gascon had yet to complain. The boy was certainly catching on quick to the art of combat under his father’s tutelage.
Therese shook her head sadly and smiled a little as Marcassin babbled, clueless as to what had just happened. “ What are we going to do about those two Marion?” she said, her bright blue eyes looking into her friend’s golden orbs. “ Vigo and Percivical want to marry those two by the time Gascon is in his twenties. What if they never grow out of their bickering?”
Marion sat back morosely into the settee and sighed. “ I honestly have no clue, Therese. I can only hope those two can find some way to get along somehow. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this between them.”
Therese scoffed in agreement and both women chuckled. “ Do you think Percivical and Vigo will do to Gascon and Amara what their fathers did to them fifteen years ago?” the empress asked.
“ There’s no telling, Therese. The only thing we can do is pray for the best.” Marion replied mirthfully. “ I dare say we scare the pants off both of them now and be done with it. They might get along for it better in the end. I did the same thing to Percy and Vigo when they were boys and it straightened them out.”
Therese laughed brightly at this. “ You can be so wicked sometimes, Tamarion.”
The queen’s head turned to reveal a set of pointed ears as she tucked a stray golden lock behind one. “ What can I say, being nearly three hundred has it’s advantages.” Marion said mischievously.

Ten Years Later:
Gascon was smiling a little as he looked over the barrister onto the main ballroom floor below. There were many people dancing to the music, though the prince could see whom his eyes had been following covertly for the last twenty minutes. Shaking his head, Gascon turned his brown eyes away from her and drank deeply from his goblet. This was the only night he could get away with filching some wine after all. It was a humid, but nice, August night and the evestan kingdom was celebrating Amara’s sixteenth birthday. Gascon had just turned seventeen himself in April, and he stood a full head higher than Amara now. Much to her chagrin anyways, he mused with a smirk. He drained the glass and set it down for now. Maybe he could try to sneak some more later. Gascon loved elven wine.
Footsteps coming up the stairs drew the young prince from his reverie and Gascon turned sharply, reaching for his gun that his mother had not allowed him to wear on his person tonight. Vigo was looking contemplative as he joined his son and Gascon relaxed a bit as he turned back to watch the festivities. “ What can I do for you, father?” Gascon asked softly. He and his father had agreed that day that he would not undergo the trials of the sages, meaning that Gascon would not be taking the Hamelin throne. It was for the best in the long run. While he could use magic, he didn’t have the finesse or talent for it that his father or brother had for the arts. Not only that, Gascon had no patience for diplomatic situations. He was still a rather blunt young man despite his parents instilling chivalry into him.
“ I was wondering if we could talk one on one for a few moments, son.” Vigo replied with a smile. He handed his eldest son another full goblet of the elven spirits and Gascon smirked.
“ What about?” Gascon drank deeply for a moment before his eyes found their mark again of their own volition. There was just something about the way she looked tonight, or it was the wine. More than likely it was the wine, he mused.
“ I was wondering why you and Amara hadn’t buried the hatchet as it were, Gascon. You’ve been bickering back and forth for more than ten years now. Don’t you think it’s gone on long enough?” Vigo said, his eyes just a tad mirthful. He had drunk quite a few gobletfuls himself of the woodkin’s spirits. They were fairly strong in their own right.
Gascon rubbed his neck nervously with his free hand. “ I can’t help myself sometimes. I mean, the two of us are to a point where we can barely tolerate one another if we keep quiet, but Amara has this air of coldness about her sometimes. The only reason I’ve been pranking her lately is to see her eyes light up, just so that I know there still someone in there. But when her eyes do shine…” Gascon paused here as he smiled a bit, looking off to the side even as he blushed. “ I can’t help myself from getting her goat a bit. She just gets so animated when she looks at me like that. I want to see life in her eyes father. I don’t know how much sense that honestly makes, but it’s like she’s trying to shut everyone out. Even though we don’t really get along, I can’t let her close herself in like that.” Gascon said, his tone deceptively soft as he looked into his reflection in the wine.
What Gascon didn’t want to admit to himself was that he was very much attracted to the young princess. He had heard the tale of the ugly duckling as a child numerous times, as it was Marcassin’s favorite bedtime story and the three of them had loved listening to the way Marion told the fable. She used her magic in tandem with her storytelling to keep the children enraptured. Well, Amara was the duckling that had become the swan to say the least. Gascon had been gobsmacked when he first saw her at the end of May; considering he hadn’t seen her since the September before, and his heart had started thundering in his chest when their eyes met briefly. Even now, Gascon was watching her yet again. She had accepted a dance from Preston Eran’s pig headed son too, which only made Gascon smirk. She hated that boy more than she hated him, and that was saying something.
“ Have you thought of trying to make your peace with her? You do realize a sincere apology can do wonders to improve someone’s attitude towards you.” Vigo suggested slyly. He could see exactly who his son was eyeing. He knew the boy had already begun learning about the more carnal pleasures of life, but didn’t say anything. A man needed experience after all. His father had done the same thing. What was amusing was the glint in Gascon’s eyes. Vigo used to have that same glimmer when he was interested in a woman. “ Besides, as I stated earlier, ten years is a long time to be at odds with one another. Hamelin and Evesta have been allies for years upon years, since the time of my great-great grandfather, Gascon. I would like to see the two of you on amicable terms at least.”
Gascon ran a hand through his shoulder length locks nervously. His father wanted him to be a man and step up to the plate to apologize first, or extend the olive branch in this case. “ I understand, father.” he said nervously. How would he go about getting Amara into his presence for more than a moment or two? While the prank he had pulled yesterday had been worth it in the end, Amara had been in quite the uproar. So had her hair for that matter. Gascon thought with a chuckle. He had harmlessly switched out one of Amara’s potion’s ingredients, causing a slight explosion, but nothing dangerous. It had left the evestan princess’ long chestnut brown locks standing straight at an odd angle.
Magnus had certainly found it hilarious once he saw the new look his niece was sporting if his loud guffaws were any indication.
“ You should at least go downstairs to wish the princess a happy birthday and offer her a turn on the floor.” Vigo said with a crafty smirk. He took a sip of his glass as Gascon’s eyes brightened a bit and he leaned over the barrister as if searching for something or someone.
Gascon’s eyes found their mark and he smirked. Amara was looking as if she were about to snap in Edmund's arms. That prat didn’t understand women in the slightest. “ Excuse me, father. Thank you for the wine by the way.” Gascon said after quickly draining the rest of the glass. He needed the liquid courage at this point.
Vigo chuckled as he watched his son disappear into the throng. Hopefully things would turn for the better tonight. If not; and his brow furrowed a bit at this thought, if Gascon and Amara were still at odds in the next few years he and Percivical would be letting them know in no uncertain terms that they were marrying. The two rulers had been working towards this goal for years now. Hopefully that would open up their eyes.

Gascon spotted the lovely red dress Amara was in and he cleared his throat just loud enough to get their attention. She looked about ready to strangle her dance partner. “ Edmund, would you mind too terribly if I cut in?” Gascon said politely.
Edmund Eran looked at Gascon with an air of disdain, despite the young man before him being a prince from another kingdom. “ I’ll only relinquish the princess’ hand if she accepts your invitation, your highness.” he said haughtily, pulling Amara tighter against him yet. His father had been telling him to attempt to woo the princess in the hopes of getting his son on the throne.
Gascon turned his brown eyes over to Amara and she honestly looked as if she was weighing her options. The black look that crossed her face as she glared up at Edmund for the liberties he was taking was what cinched it for him.
“ Prince Gascon, I would be delighted to dance with you.” Amara bit out, pushing her current partner away none too gently. “ Thank you for the turn or three around the floor, Edmund.” she replied just as stiffly.
“ You’re quite welcome your highness. Should you wish another turn, I shall not be far off.” Edmund purred up to her as he bowed. He took her hand and sloppily kissed her knuckles in what he thought was a sensual manner.
It took Amara’s sheer will to not tear her hand away from him. She turned to Gascon with a glare, though it softened slightly as he held out his handkerchief to her in order for her to clean her hands. “ Thank you.” she said icily.
“ For getting him away from you, or for giving you the means of ridding yourself of his touch in a sense?” Gascon asked with a chuckle.
Amara couldn’t help but smirk. “ Both I suppose. However, if you are planning anything I will…” she began, her temper quickly rising to the fore as she thought about yesterday’s events.
Gascon gently took her hand in his and bowed low to thank her for accepting his invitation to dance with him. “ No worries, Amara. I have no intentions on ruining your birthday for you. I made sure to get all that out of my system yesterday so that I wouldn’t get myself killed for it today.” Gascon replied with a smirk.
Amara couldn’t help the blush that settled over her as Gascon led her back into the crowd gracefully and with ease. There was just enough distance between them, but she could still feel how strong he honestly was as her left hand rested against his bicep. The tone she felt there was surprising in the least. “ Well, that’s good to hear at least.” she mumbled. To be frank Amara was shocked that he hadn’t trodden on her toes yet. Tippy; a wonderful little woman with greying red hair, had begun teaching them both how to dance last summer and Gascon hadn’t been very good at all then.
Gascon could see as plain as day what was on her mind and he laughed a bit despite himself. “ I’ve been practicing, let’s leave it at that, Amara.”
Amara smirked this time. “ Why did you honestly cut in, Gascon? I can’t help but find myself a little wary despite the claim you made earlier.”
“ You looked like an adamantiger about to pounce, still do for that matter. What I was hoping to do was pull you away for a moment to let you breathe. It wasn’t hard to see that the young mister Eran was getting your dander up worse than I do.” Gascon remarked. He couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming her face. By the ancients she certainly looked...No...That was the wine talking again, right?
Amara seemed a bit surprised at this. He had pulled her away to allow her to destress? Odd, considering that he was the cause of the majority of her stress. “ I guess your right about that, but that still doesn’t tell me why, Gascon.” Amara snapped slightly. She gasped a bit as Gascon lifted her in time to the song with ease. He was certainly much stronger than he looked. Now that he wasn’t trodding on her toes every five steps, Amara found that she was actually beginning to enjoy this a little bit.
“ I need to talk to you, in private away from everyone else. It’s important, Amara, please.” was all the eldest porcine prince said.
There was something in his tone that disarmed Amara’s temper with him for that moment. He looked a little afraid to be honest, but nonetheless, he had something he needed to get off his chest. “ Very well. Follow me then...We might be able to slip into the garden unnoticed.” Amara whispered.
Gascon nodded and began leading them towards the double doors behind them. They just needed a distraction at this point in order to slip out. “ Can you cause a stir for a moment so that no one watches us leaving?” he asked covertly.
Amara smirked devilishly at this request. “ I think I can manage something.” she replied, her blue eyes glinting as they fell on Edmund at the punch bowl. She drew her wand from her sleeve and with a few swishes and a rather hard flick of the utensil, the punchbowl lept from the table to Edmund’s head. “ Distraction achieved.”
Gascon shuddered. That could have very well been him on the receiving end of that spell a moment ago. With all the yelling going on, no one saw or heard the prince and princess sneaking out into the garden for a moonlit stroll.

Amara was laughing a little as Gascon told her about the look on Edmund’s face, her blue eyes twinkling just a bit as she watched him gesticulate how the bowl had jumped from the table to the unsuspecting lad. This wasn’t bad, she mused as she took in Gascon’s appearance. He was wearing rather fine clothing tonight, the jacket he wore was a very glossy forest green that complimented his olive skin dramatically, the verdant hue bringing out his brown eyes. His pants were cut to fit his lithe form, which showed off his long legs to her perusal. It’s amazing, been in each other’s company for nearly twenty minutes now and we have yet to get into a fight...We’re actually having fun together? That’s a first. Amara thought. The two happened upon her favorite spot in the garden and Amara sighed happily. The lavender grew on this side of the garden. She loved the scent of the purple flower.
“ I guess I should wish you a happy birthday first and foremost before we get any further.” Gascon said, his tone slightly nervous again.
Amara sat down beside the blooms to take a closer whiff. “ Thank you. Now what is this chat you seem so eager to have?” she asked, her cerulean orbs turning up to him piercingly.
“ I want us to call a truce, Amara. We’ve been at odds for longer than either of us can remember, and more than likely over something stupid. I want to call a quits to all the petty fighting and arguments that we’re wont to have. We’re both nearly adults, Amara. It has to end sometime, and this seems like the best time.” Gascon said, forcing his words out so that he wouldn’t lose the nerve to say them.
“ I would be more than amenable to such a thing if you weren’t constantly pranking me or starting those fights, Gascon.” Amara growled out much harsher than she intended.
Gascon colored angrily at this a bit. “ I wouldn’t be doing such things if you would be honest with other people and yourself for once instead of retreating behind a mask of propriety all the damn time. You certainly have no qualms in being honest with me when you tell me off!” Gascon seethed, his voice growing to a near shout.
“ I have expectations to meet, unlike a certain pig of a prince whose presence has been foisted upon me for every summer as far back as I can remember!” Amara yelled at him, getting nose to nose with him now. That was a feat in of itself considering the difference in their height.
“ What expectations Amara? You don’t have to live by anyone’s standards but your own!” Gascon retorted hotly. “ Even now, you try to push everyone away!”
“ And whose fault is that I wonder.” Amara whispered, her tone unmistakable. “ If you know what’s good for you, Gascon, you will keep you….” she began.
Gascon had more than heard enough. He was trying to build a bridge between them, not further the gap. Without realizing it, the young prince; fueled by the wine at this point, pulled Amara tight against him and crashed his lips to hers in an effort to silence her tirade. He didn’t want to hear threats falling from her lips. His eyes closed the longer he held the connection. The feel of her soft lips against his, the taste of chocolate and wine intermingling together now as he deepened the kiss, and the smell of lavender around them were proving to be much more stimulus than Gascon was prepared for. Amara’s lips; which had been still in shock for a moment, were now moving against his own as they kept this contact between them.
Amara had had all coherent thought forced from her mind the moment Gascon’s lips had met hers. Now that she was slowly coming back to her senses, Amara was getting pissed. Her blue eyes narrowed as she shoved Gascon roughly away from her and her fist flew across his jaw as opposed to her open palm. “ You bastard! Who the hell do you think you are?!” she screamed. Amara never gave him a chance to answer as she gathered up the front of her gown and rushed back inside the ballroom. She was turning in the moment she found her father. She was done for the night, period.
Gascon grunted as he rubbed his jaw where Amara had suckerpunched him and his face screwed up a bit as he felt the metallic tang of blood assail his tastebuds. Certainly they had gotten into a scrap or two when they had been younger, and Amara had no qualms in slapping him across the face, but this was the first time the evestan princess had ever drawn blood between them.
Gascon’s eyes narrowed a bit as they looked to the path that his rival had taken back to the palace. He honestly didn’t know whether to feel put out that he had been socked so strongly by a mere slip of a woman, or to like the fact that Amara had the strength to do such a thing. I daresay I liked the fact that she could kick my ass if she chose to do so...he thought, his eyes glowing a bit as he thought of how she had been nestled against his body perfectly.
It didn’t matter at this point now, Amara was fair game tomorrow when they met his father and Marcassin in the courtyard for their continuing lessons in swordplay. Ever since the first time Marion had sent Amara with Vigo and Gascon to receive punishment as well for her transgressions against Gascon, Vigo had made it a point to train the both of them equally and was a hell of a hardass about it. He didn’t favor one over the other, nor did he let either of them slack off. While Amara was proficient with a blade, it was obvious that in this area Gascon was her better. He tried not to throw it in her face as she had done, keyword tried. He was afforded some payback after all.
Gascon wiped away the blood that had spilt down his chin, his eyes still locked on the spot Amara had been in a few moments prior. By the ancients, why did he feel as if his very blood were aflame at the thought of her? He had lusted after someone before, but this was beyond what that had felt like. His eyes went wide in realization and he swore. He was going to drink himself into a stupor at this point to get the infuriating young woman off of his mind.
Gascon wanted Amara, and the very thought was enough to scare him. He couldn’t want her. They were bitter rivals, enemies some would say. They had been fighting more than likely since they had met and it didn’t look as if things were going to ease up. Gascon began stalking for the palace at this point. He was going to get good and drunk to drive these stupid thoughts away. He didn’t want them there.
So he told himself at least.

About Four Years Later:
Amara was grumbling under her breath as she picked up the countless books on magic that were littering the library. “ Marcassin…” she said softly, picking up a book on the taming of familiars. The sixteen year old prince was more than fascinated by a couple of species. Amara was preferential to the beastie, aves, and mortui genuses herself. Not that she would ever admit the last one out loud however. She might never hear the end of it. A book of alchemy came into her hand next from beside the granny’s nook in the window. “ Gascon.” she whispered exasperatedly here. This was Gascon’s favorite seat in the library whenever the ruling family of Hamelin came to visit for the summer. What could Gascon be looking up on alchemy though? It was Marcassin that was going through the trials of the sages, not the eldest of the two princes.
Amara stiffened as she heard a bit of movement behind her. She could smell sandalwood too for that matter. “ Gascon Roman Moritan, I swear I will beat you within an inch of your life if you even think of pranking me with an arm full of books. I’m actually trying to tidy the mess you and Marcassin made in here before lunch!” she called out warningly.
Gascon chuckled as he made his appearance from three rows down, he had an armful of books as well. “ If you must know, oh princess, I was actually trying to help you.” At having just turned twenty one last month, Gascon had reached his full height and stood a full head and a half over Amara. They had mellowed out slightly towards each other, but they still fought worse than gruffians and auroralynxs when they got into a fight. His had his long, mid-shoulder length locks pulled back by a leather thong to keep them out of the way, bringing his angular face to the fore. While not exceedingly handsome, Gascon knew he could still turn more than a few heads.
Amara stood only at five foot five, and the nineteen year old woman shot the man a glare as he came up beside her to help her shelve the books they each had. “ Is there any reason why you’re intruding on my solitude this afternoon, Gascon? I thought you had chambermaids you were chasing.” she quipped.
“ I just can’t very well leave you to your own devices, Amara, lest you retreat back into that fortress of ice that you’ve erected around your heart.” Gascon returned, his brown eyes glaring down at the evestan princess for the low blow. “ Not only that, your father wanted me to fetch you. Both our fathers have something they wish to speak with us about. More than likely to get us to call a truce and to bury the animosity we’ve had for years.” Hell, he would rather be chasing a pretty young chambermaid right now than have her presence foisted upon him like this. But even then, Gascon knew that he couldn’t leave Amara to herself. She was already growing more and more distant from people every day, and he knew that he was to blame. He was trying to make amends for it in some way to her.
Amara growled out at this audibly. “ There’s nothing to say there, Gascon. We’re forced acquaintances, nothing more.” she seethed, shoving another book into it’s place on the shelf. Wordlessly, they both exchanged some of the titles in their hands in order to place everything back on the shelf.
The moment Gascon had placed his last tome into it’s space, he turned to Amara and cornered her against the shelf. “ We’re more than that Amara and you know it.” he hissed. He could still recall the kiss he had given her on her sixteenth birthday. That was so much farther from the claim she had just made. Hell, Gascon could feel that there was something just barely escaping both of them, but what it was he didn’t know.
Amara turned a rather brilliant shade of red. “ I suggest that you get your distance this instant Gascon.” Amara seethed, her wand coming out of the confines of her sleeve.

Percivical and Vigo were both waiting on their children to arrive when their ears caught the telltale tones of their children arguing once again.
“ AMARA IVETTE DEBROTANE! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT AND REMOVE THAT SPELL YOU PUT ON ME!” Gascon bellowed. They were all the way down at the other end of the hall by the sound of things.
“ Not on your life you despicable, ill couth, womanizing bastard!” Amara seethed back at him. If the sounds of their shouting were any indicator, they had stopped somewhere in the middle of the hall to continue their argument.
“ You contestable, magic wielding shrew!”
Vigo bristled when he heard his son’s insult to the evestan princess. Her shriek of rage met their ears and the sound of a rather resounding smack followed. “ Percivical…” he said, his voice rather tight.
“ I know, old friend. I know. I don’t think just telling them is going to put them in place. Times are calling for more drastic measures now, I believe.” Percivical replied, his voice soft and his eyes hard.
The two were drawing closer to the door now and Vigo’s eyes narrowed. “ You distract them and I’ll cast the spell?” he offered.
Percivical nodded and went to the door. He would wait until they were right in front of it.

Amara and Gascon came to a stop in front of the study door, both of them still bickering bitterly.
“ For the love of the ancients Amara, I will not enter that room looking like this! I don’t have the luxury of time to go up to my guest chamber to fix this mess you made of my hair!” Gascon seethed.
Vigo’s brow quirked as did his lip. Gascon had extremely unruly and curly hair unless he attended to it, which he did. He had learned his lesson long ago. Then again, like Marcassin, Gascon could be a tad vain about his hair.
Percivical held back a chuckle and schooled his features. This was not the time to be laughing at Gascon’s expense.
“ I will do no such thing Gascon! It’ll wear off in a day or two.” Amara retorted. Her blue eyes flashed dangerously as Gascon got face to face with her.
“ I can deal with you hitting me, I can deal with whatever petty insult you sling, you hellcat. But I will not, I repeat, WILL NOT tolerate this!” Gascon shouted, his finger pointing to the veritable bird’s nest his hair now resembled.
“ THAT’S ENOUGH! Both of you get inside my study this instant and sit down, or so help me I will lock you both in the stocks for a week to teach you both a lesson!” Percivical bellowed at both of them. Both his eyes were narrowed in utter displeasure at both of them, and Amara and Gascon both went quiet as they entered the room.
Amara had never heard her father that irate before. Then again, she and Gascon had not been subtle either. He was glaring at her directly now as he sat at his desk. She blushed slightly and groaned, pulling her wand from her sleeve. With a couple of twirls and a flick to Gascon, his hair was set to rights again.
“ Thank you.” He whispered, sighing in relief as he tied the mahogany colored locks back again.
Amara grumbled something in response, though Gascon didn’t catch it, and both of them looked to Percivical expectantly.
“ Where’s my father?” Gascon finally asked.
Vigo took that exact moment to cast the spell he needed. He had always been a faster caster than Percivical. Amara screamed as she felt the tingle of magic settle over her and she jumped from the chair she was in and then she rounded on Vigo. “ What was that spell you cast, your majesty?” she demanded.
“ You’re very sensitive to having magic cast on you.” Vigo said appraisingly. “ That’s not a bad thing. As to what spell, you’ll find out soon enough. But business first.”
Gascon did not like his father’s tone. “ What do you mean by business, father?” he asked tentatively.
Vigo and Percivical both leveled their eyes on their children. “ You both are going to be marrying.” Percivical said imperiously, his tone broking no room for opposition. “ Vigo and I have been planning this for years, so don’t even think of exclaiming that this was a spur of the moment decision.”
“ I’m sorry father, but I am not marrying this...this pig of a prince! I absolutely refuse!” Amara cried.
“ Father, your majesty, with all due respect Amara and I can barely stand to be in the same room together. This is far from the wisest course of action in the long term.”
“ You will be marrying, that’s no mistake. This subject is not up for discussion and I will not allow the two of you to continue to be at odds with one another when you take the throne.” Percivical hissed, slamming both hands down to his desk. “ In fact, you’re both going to be leaving this very afternoon as soon as Amara get’s changed. Vigo and I, not to mention your poor mothers, have had it with the two of you bickering and arguing so pettily! So the two of you are going to go on a bit of a journey together until such as the point that you two can at least work together instead of fighting all the damn time. You both will only be allowed to stay no more than a week per town you come across, and your magic has also been restricted thanks to the enchantment placed on the both of you, meaning that you will only be able to use certain spells such as the travel spell in cases of an emergency.”
Amara and Gascon both jumped up wildly at this, both of them protesting even further. It seemed as if this was the first thing they had ever agreed upon.
“ SILENCE! This is not up for discussion at all. You both are leaving today and are not allowed to return to either Cygnus or Hamelin until such is the point that you two are no longer seething at the sight of each other.” Percivical boomed, his voice nothing short of dangerous as he looked at his only daughter and his friend’s eldest son. “ You both are dismissed, now go get ready to leave.”
Both Amara and Gascon looked to one another this time, though their faces conveyed the gravity of the situation as opposed to anything else.
There was no way in hell they were going to get through this without getting into a physical altercation of some sort.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Ties that Bind