Caroline’s heart dropped into her stomach as she found herself once again hopelessly pinned to the ground by the massive, kingdom-wrecking beast.  The princess, who had felt such a terrifying sense of power within in herself in the last few days as she grew, suddenly found all of that fear of her own destructive abilities transformed into pure apprehension of her fate.  She felt like a little girl again, lying on the street she and the mother beast had mostly destroyed in their catastrophic tussle, wanting someone to tell her it was going to be okay.  But she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be.  Because she was the one who would have had to tell the people that they would be safe.  She had even promised the little girl in the house she had passed that she would defend the kingdom, and rid it of the evil that had come.  But this was not going to pass.  She had failed.

                As the monster’s glistening fangs neared Caroline’s soft, flushed cheeks, the princess heard a horse whinnying somewhere behind her head on the terrace as it came to a screeching halt.  This was followed by footsteps, soft at first, but growing louder second by second, like raindrops on a window.  The beast’s vermillion death stare with Caroline was broken as it raised its head, cocking its neck; it did, however, keep its fangs fully bared in protest at the oncoming force.  A huff of hot air was released from its throat, like a warning growl.  Caroline tried to turn her head, and as she did, she had to do a double take seeing Luke charging forth, a slight hobble in one ankle.  He gained speed in his sprint, his body level with the crouching beast’s hairy face, his sword drawn high in the air.

                “LUKE, STOP!” screamed Caroline in terror, trying fruitlessly to force her arms out from under the weight of the monster’s body so she could block his approach, but it was no use.  She grunted desperately in futility as Luke charged to the end of the terrace; her jaw dropped in shock and horror as he went flying forward, over her head, and directly into the opened mouth of the beast.  Caroline yelled again, convulsing with the strain of what was happening to the both of them.  The beast held its mouth open for a moment, confused by the strange act.  Luke crouched inside its jaws, having climbed over its teeth.  Then, grasping his blade, he jammed it directly upward into the roof of the mother monster’s mouth.

                This caused the desired effect; the beast flung its claws off of the princess, allowing her freedom of motion again, as it swung its head from side to side in an attempt to knock Luke from his perch.  It even clamped its jaws closed a few times, but Luke wasn’t in range of its fangs.  Brown blood began to trickle from its black lips as Luke twisted harder in different directions with the blade, hanging tightly to his handhold on his silver sword.  Caroline heard him yelling loudly from the strain of hanging on tight enough to not lose his grip and tumble on top of the rows of razor choppers.  The beast eventually became wiser to this, though, and stopped shaking, rippling its throat.  Caroline could see already that it was trying to swallow him directly into its throat.  With a screech of determination, Caroline lunged into a sitting position, taking hold of the beast’s jaws with her tremendous hands, trying to force them back apart.  The sheer adrenaline spike hitting Caroline’s brain allowed her to exert every ounce of strength she had left into opening the beast’s jaws.  Surprised by this act, the monster opened its mouth all the way just as Luke was yanked roughly back towards its greasy throat.

                “Oh, no you DON’T!” growled Caroline at the monster, shooting her arm out.  She wrapped her fingers around Luke’s saliva-covered form, ripping him from inside the beast’s throat.  As she did, her hand and arm became soaked in the monster’s blood, which by now was spouting out, filling its mouth and forcing it to spit it out.  The stuff was also rushing down its throat as the monster began hacking wildly and desperately for air.  With a final stroke, Luke shredded the entire top of the monster’s mouth roof, dragging his sword all the way across and leaving it lodged just behind the top row of teeth with all of his remaining might, collapsing into Caroline’s sweating fingers.  Pulling Luke out and cradling his limp form against her chest for warmth, Caroline grasped the terrace edge and lifted herself up, backing up several steps and watched the murderous monster.  It stumbled to the ground, not getting enough oxygen, a massive pool of brown collecting around its head.  It sputtered a few times, then gurgled inside its throat, unable to take full breaths of air.  Shaking slightly and lying prone on the ruined cobblestone ground, the mother belched one last wave of brown blood and bile before dying, choked to death on its own gushing fluids.

                Caroline sat on the terrace, looking fearfully at the still-twitching body of the greasy, hairy, bloodthirsty monster, half-expecting it to crawl back to its feet for a final stand.  But it didn’t.  It was over, all over.  Everything seemed all right again.  As she caught her heavy breath, Caroline looked down at her upturned hand, squeezing her fingers around Luke, but then gasped as she found blood dabbed onto them.  It seemed that as he dove inside the creature’s jaws, he had snagged himself coming across its teeth, leaving several scratches stretched across his chest.  Already, he was breathing heavily, staining his shirt with blood.  Crying out in anguish, Caroline cupped him into her other hand, trying to keep him level, and dashed forward down the village street for the river, which for Caroline was just over twenty massive strides away, rumbling the houses as she did.  She barely had the energy to look for any possible people in the streets to avoid trampling them under her bloodstained soles, but every non-military person had fled within a one mile radius, the rest hiding fearfully in their houses or the alleys.

                She walked down the sloped hill to the water’s edge, quickly crouching in the grass.  She gently laid Luke on the ground next to her left knee, then briefly scanned herself with her eyes.  Her wrist was already looking better, but her arm was not looking very healthy.  Grasping at her dirt-lined robe hem, she tore a strip from the bottom, feeling guilty for destroying Rose’s handiwork, and wrapped it as tightly as possible around her forearm to stop the bleeding.  It stung badly as she tugged at the makeshift bandage, but it would do for the time being.  Luke was the priority.  She moved back to him, almost afraid to touch him when he was so delicate to her massive fingers, but found the strength to place her soft fingertips upon his body, applying almost no pressure.  She pinched at his tunic, which had been all but shredded by the beast’s teeth, and tugged at it.  It easily fell from his body, revealing his bloodstained torso.  Caroline squinted down at him.  His chest was still rising and falling, and his face was contorted painfully, but he was still alive.  Breathing a sigh of relief, Caroline tossed the blood-soaked shirt to the side and quickly slid her fingers back under his body, lifting him back up into a sitting position.  His arms hung limply against her cool fingers, and it scared her, but she knew if she could act quickly, he might yet be saved.  Bringing him back closer to her chest and leaning him against it with one hand, Caroline scooped the fingers of her free appendage through the rushing waters.  This happened to be the hand with the finger wearing the mysterious and beautiful ring from the hag.  As she swiped her fingers through the water, she couldn’t help but feel a slight tingling sensation along her finger.  She quickly stared into the stone of the ring, a dizzying feeling spreading throughout her limbs.  She rubbed it against the grass to dry it and switched her grip, sliding the brutally battered prince into her other palm.

                Shrugging off what had just happened, Caroline scooped up a massive handful of water and brought it to Luke’s body.  Tipping her fingers slightly, she allowed the refreshing liquid to wash over his dirty, grimy, bloodied chest.  He moaned as the cool water rushed into his burning wounds, allowing the princess to catch her breath.  He was awake again, if only for a moment.  She lowered her head nearer to his body, blowing lightly through her pursed lips to help cool him down.  As the last of the water from her hand was used, she dipped back into the river for a fresh supply.

                “Luke… can you hear me?” she whispered, as some of her hair fell over her shoulders, surrounding Luke in a forest of silky gold.  “Give me a sign… something.  Move your hand if you can.”  He grumbled, shifting his weight.  Then, his arm extended, his hand reaching out for something to grab onto.  Caroline quickly curled her thumb inward, laying it just above his chest.  He gripped it tightly, squeezing as hard as he could into the cool plushness, to help with the pain, which of course didn’t affect Caroline at all.  Finally, with a soft sputter, he managed to speak.

                “C-Caroline…” he choked, coughing and taking full breaths again.

                “Shhh…” she whispered, blowing more cold air over him and emptying another slow handful of fresh water over his wounds.  “There is no need to speak now, I just needed to know you were all right.  Oh, Luke…” she said, shaking her head.

                “Caroline…”

                “Please don’t speak, Luke, I really do mean that.”

                “No, there is something I m-must say…”

                “What is it, then?  Make haste; you must rest yourself.”

                “It is more of a s-suggestion.”

                “Very well,” she answered gently.

                “If you are going to bind me in the future…” he said, chuckling so weakly barely any sound came out.  “…I would suggest using a better restraining material, like chains, or perhaps an army of armored warriors.”

                Caroline couldn’t contain herself, beginning to giggle and cry a little at the same time.  She wiped her eyes before scooping for more water.  “How… how can you SAY something like that?”

                “It is the simple truth.  I think it might be more prudent of our time for you to hear it now.”

                “I should have tied you more tightly, my sweet Luke.  I didn’t want to have to leave you there, it hurt me so much, but it was necessary.”

                “Believe me, princess, you would only have detained me for perhaps a few minutes longer.”

                “Thank you… thank you…” she breathed lovingly.  “Luke… how could you have come after me?  Look at yourself… you’re barely here.”

                “Would YOU have been here if I hadn’t come when I did?”

                She sighed.  “Quiet yourself, my prince.  There’s no need to have worry anymore, or concern.  Don’t you see where we are?”

                “The river.”

                “Yes… but not just any river.  In my childhood, my mother… she would tell me stories of the very old days, when the land itself contained magical property.  She told me this river contains the ability to heal wounds physical and in the mind, and is the only left of its kind,” she said dreamily, not believing a word of it but being comforted anyway.  Luke smirked, knowing this, as he hugged her cool, damp thumb against his burning wounds.  He shivered for a second, but eventually felt better having thick pressure applied to his wounds, particularly when it came from such a soft and reassuring source.

                “I thought you didn’t believe in those sorts of things?  In that kind of magic… wishes of the lands themselves, not just the people… fates…”

                “We aren’t given fates, Luke, we decide our own.”

                “Perhaps… but without fate, how could our creator plan the miracles… surely you believe in them?” he answered logically.  Caroline smiled softly at him.  Bringing a fingertip up to her lips, she kissed it softly, then lowered it to Luke’s body, pressing it gently against his cheek. 

“I think I’m starting to now,” she whispered, allowing her hand to slide back into place underneath Luke’s frame.  She cradled him for several more minutes, and then began to hum the same slow tune she had used to calm Phillip when he was first afraid of the night, when she had started growing.  It felt like so long ago, after how far she had come, and yet it wasn’t so long ago at all.  Her humming grew louder, and delved eventually into a low, lyrical whisper of the music, letting it permeate the air along with the serenity that had followed the monster’s terrible destruction.  Luke drifted off to sleep from exhaustion and pain as Caroline stood back up, her arm stinging more than it ever had in her life, but she didn’t care for this moment.  She continued singing the song lightly as she walked carefully back to the palace, knowing somehow that Luke would be all right. 

What awaited her at home, though, she could never have prepared for, not if she had known it a century in advance.

A chilling mist settled in as night fell.  Only the crickets could be heard in the gardens.  Caroline laid on her side along a stretch of grass, her tears frozen to her face, her cheeks having been drained of their color.  She had nothing to say or think or feel.  She held her hands close to the crook of her neck, where her two siblings had huddled themselves against her for comfort, their own tears soaking Caroline’s warm palms as they quivered against her skin, finding almost no solace, even in the tried-and-true embrace of their loving, gigantic sibling.

“C-C-Caroline…” squeaked Phillip through muted sobs, but Caroline quickly hugged him more snugly against her palm, pushing him against her neck.  He cuddled against her fingers and was shushed.

“Not now, Phillip… just wait…” she choked out, her own voice cracking heavily.  Inside the palace, the servants and guards stood at a respectful distance from Elizabeth, who was crouched on the ground, trembling, over Richard’s bloodied corpse, her handmaids trying uselessly to soothe her as she cried rivers of tears, her grief so deep she couldn’t even hear anyone’s words, or barely see anything at all for that matter.  Luke laid in his bed, being nursed back to health by the doctor, but somehow felt himself feeling worse even as his wounds were bandaged up and treated, his own face cold and stoic, shocked at what was happening.

Outside the walls of the palace, every citizen of the kingdom who could make it to the palace by nightfall stood, weeping on one another’s shoulders, bringing lilies and laying them alongside the palace walls, and many of them holding torches of respect up into the air, above their heads, alighting the darkened crowds with glowing orange orbs.

All Caroline could do was hold her siblings, her mind so thoroughly crushed that she wondered how she would ever carry on without her wise father, or how the kingdom would be able to withstand future attack.  Or, for that matter, how she might ever find herself shrinking back to normal size without his tactical decisions and smart planning.

It then occurred to her how selfish she was in thinking this, which only caused her to weep harder, pooling her salty tears on the stone path of the garden.