Chapter Text
Matt Murdock was technically a Princess. Now I know what you’re thinking. Matt Murdock shouldn’t be a Princess, this is true. Technically.
Frank of the Castle is a Dragon. The Dragon. The one that all the citizens fear. Because he doesn’t stay up in the mountains and hills, stealing the odd sheep, Frank came down to the lowlands, chased a King out of his castle and took a whole kingdom for his own. Frank is the scourge of the nine kingdoms (there used to be ten, before Frank). This is all true. Technically.
Foggy Nelson is a knight. See he has the armour and the sword and the horse and everything. He’s a knight and he wants to stay one. The best way to get a reputation as a knight is to defeat a Dragon. Foggy needs a reputation fast so he needs to defeat the biggest, scariest Dragon in the land. Good plan right? Well… technically.
**
How about I start the story by telling you how Frank of the West Mountain became Frank of the Castle, destroyer of the tenth kingdom and scourge of the other nine. It’s a sad tale, one that started decades before Matt or Foggy were even born.
There are many dragons that live in the mountains. Mostly they stay out of the way of the humans, and the humans stay out of the mountains, because no-one likes being burnt alive because they trespassed on a dragon’s territory. Besides there is nothing to interest a human up in those cold and desolate peaks. The closest kingdom to the mountains was the tenth kingdom. The Kingdom of Mob. The King there discovered the West Mountain contained many riches, seams of gold that could be mined. He sent a party of advisors and knights up to the mountain to ask the dragon of that mountain, Frank, if he would allow them to mine it.
Frank said no, because he had a family, a wife with two new hatchlings. They wouldn’t be safe with so many humans wandering Frank’s mountain. The advisors went back to the king and told him that the dragon had said no.
The king was an arrogant and greedy man. It burned him to know that the dragon was sitting on all that gold. Gold that would make his kingdom the richest of them all. After a few years, and many failed negotiations with Frank, the King gathered his best knights and led an attack on the West Mountain. The bulk of the army engaged with Frank, there were many casualties and Frank was badly wounded. But he was ultimately victorious. He flew back to his lair to discover the King has sent a smaller second force. Frank’s wife Maria had fought bravely but to no avail. She, and their two children, had been killed.
Frank howled with grief and rage. The terrible sound carried across the ten kingdoms, even as far as the Kingdom of Nelson.
Mining started almost immediately while Frank hibernated, recovering from his physical wounds while his grief and rage festered and poisoned his heart. The King assumed Frank had crawled away to die. When he awoke three years later he killed every human on the mountain, and laid waste to the mines. He spread his wings wide and took to the air. He did what no other dragon had dared to do, he attacked a human kingdom. He burnt it to the ground. The King, and almost everyone in the kingdom were killed by flame and claw. Frank curled up in the castle surrounded by the smell of burning flesh and roared again, the sound of rage and death terrified the other kingdoms. They sent their best knights, mercenaries, wizards to kill the dragon before he did to them what he had done to Mob. But Frank killed them all. Once it became clear that Frank had no desire to leave the castle, the other kingdoms decided to leave him alone. The closest kingdoms of Fisk and Murdock set up watches in case the great dragon stirred again, but otherwise they left the tenth kingdom and the dragon who ruled it to its own devices.
**
Perhaps now I should explain about Princesses.
Within the ten kingdoms, a Prince is the first born child of the King, male or female, and is the one who will become King on the present King’s death. A Princess is any child born after.
Traditionally Princes are taught to fight, and hunt, and rule. The oldest Princesses are taught the laws of the kingdoms, diplomacy, and the arts. Younger Princesses are taught how to look pretty at court. These traditions are only strictly held in the three central kingdoms of Langham, Zach, and Owlsley. The general pattern is followed elsewhere but the education of most Princes and Princesses is more balanced.
King Jack of the kingdom of Murdock has only one child. Matthew. Which means that Matthew is a Prince. He was raised as one, learning how to fight from a royal instructor called Stick. A blind knight with many bold deeds to his name, but to be honest even his friends would say he was a bit of a dick. If he’d had any friends that is.
So Matt is a Prince. Or at least he was. A wizard was transporting potions across the kingdom. The young Prince was out hunting on foot when the cart containing the potions came free of it attachment to the horse. The cart barrelled down a steep bank towards an old man collecting fire wood. Matt ran as fast as he could to push the man out of the way. He was hit by the cart and the potions spilt on his face. The man was saved. Prince Matt was blinded. The wizard wrung his hands and apologised, but there was nothing to be done. It had been a combination of potions that had landed on the Prince and no-one knew how it could be reversed.
Murdock was a small kingdom, left alone because it didn’t really have anything to take, and because it had the reputation of having the best fighters in the nine kingdoms. Small but scrappy, and King Jack didn’t really much care for the rule that permanently injured Princes became ineligible for the throne. Matt was his only child, the king wasn’t interested in remarrying, so Matt would forever be his only child, a Prince not a Princess. Besides, Jack’s best knight was blind; it was clearly not barrier to being a fighter why would it be a barrier to being a King. Not to mention the potions had increased his son’s other senses. Prince Matt was a better fighter than ever. Unfortunately the other kingdoms did not agree. Langham and Zach sent out a diplomatic party every year to convince King Jack to remarry and produce a child who would be able to claim the title of Prince. They warned that should anything happen to Jack that they would not be able to support Matt as King. Neither would the kingdoms of Owlsley and Stahl.
King Jack refused to back down, and one day not long after Matt’s 15th birthday the King was killed.
No-one claimed responsibility, although Stick blamed the Kingdom of Hand. But then he blamed Hand for everything, including the bad harvest of the year before. Matt was the choice of the people to be King but the other kingdoms threatened war. Langham, Zach, and Owlsley refused to allow the law to be changed. Stahl and Hand stood with them. Ulric stood with Matt but that kingdom was tiny, if wealthy, and couldn’t stand against the combined force of the others. Nelson was too far away to send aid so declined to take a side.
The Kingdom of Fisk had a solution, their Prince Wilson would temporarily rule Murdock until Princess Matt’s claim could be recognised. The other Kingdoms agreed and Prince Wilson and his younger brother Princess Wesley moved into the castle.
Matt hated them. They talked about all the changes that needed to be made to Murdock to make it a ‘great kingdom’. But it was Matt’s home, and home to thousands of other people. Wilson and Wesel y didn’t seem to care what anybody else wanted. They had a plan in mind and to hell with anyone else. Matt fought them in court as much as he could. He was only 15 but his father had been widely respected and admired. Matt found he could convince the court to block most of what the Fisk’s were suggesting.
“Princess Matt,” drawled Wesley. He was waiting outside Matt’s room one night. He made Matt’s skin crawl. “It’s Princess Wesley.”
“I can tell who you are,” said Matt through gritted teeth.
“Ah, I wasn’t sure. With your… impairment,” said Wesley. Even though he’d seen what Matt was capable of in training. Stick had never gone easy on him just because he was newly blind, or young, or grieving. These days Matt was very glad of that. Stick had disappeared not long after the King had died. Leaving Matt playing games in court, like an actual Princess, and hating every minute of it.
“I came to give you a piece of advice,” said Wesley carefully. “You should play your part better Princess.”
“Really?” asked Matt squaring up for a fight. “Or what?”
“Or someone may remove you from the board, as they did your Father. The laws are absolute, King Jack died without an heir. So this land is up for claiming. My brother intends to claim it. As a Princess you are entitled to be a part of the new order. In fact we welcome you. But you will not stop it Princess. You simply don’t have the power.” Wesley voice was light and pleasant, at odds with what he was saying.
“Are you threating me?” asked Matt harshly.
“I don’t need to, I have people for that. Sleep well, Princess,” said Wesley as he left.
Matt waited until Wesley was gone before going into his rooms. He’d barely finished packing essentials into a bag before he sensed someone climbing in the window. The man was bigger than Matt, certainly stronger, and carrying a wicked knife. But he hadn’t spent the majority of his life being trained by Stick, Matt took him down fairly quickly, leaving the assassin unconscious on the floor of his bedroom and taking the knife. There were others on their way. Matt could hear unfamiliar heartbeats making their way up the tower. He climbed out of the window and down to the stables. He stole a horse. Riding out of the castle to the sounds of shouts behind him, and hoof beats following him into the forest.
Matt didn’t have anywhere to go, but he kept riding, pushing the horse further and faster. Until he came to the walls of the tenth kingdom. Mob. Stronghold of Frank of the Castle. Matt couldn’t go back. And no-one had seen so much as a scale of the dragon for more than fifty years. Matt didn’t have a choice. He let the horse go, hoping his pursuers’ would chase it, and he climbed over the wall.
**
Ten years passed. The legend became that the dragon had somehow bewitched the fair Princess Matthew and lured him into its lair. (Princess Wesley was a very good storyteller.) This in turn lead to rash young knights trying to make a name for themselves storming the tenth kingdom to free the fair damsel in distress and defeat the dragon. Sometimes these brave but foolish warriors would come back bruised and broken with stories of the terrible monsters that lived with the dragon on the other side of the wall. Devils and demons that could overcome even the bravest and most skilled knight. Some didn’t come back at all.
Foggy was a knight. Well. He had armour (that didn’t fit him very well), and a sword (although only the most basic idea of how to use it), and a horse (that he couldn’t ride because the horrible beast terrified him). All he needed was a couple of really good stories. It seemed to Foggy that about 90% of being a knight was telling a good tale, and Foggy had always been good at that. So defeat a few monsters, maybe save a princess or two, get accepted as a knight by the knights council and he would be a knight. Then there would be nothing that anyone could do about it. Not even his parents. Then Foggy would be free. But he was on a time limit. His family would be looking for him, he knew that they worried, but he had to do this. So he needed big stories, really quickly. There was only one place in the ten kingdoms he could think to get them.
Which is how he had ended up here. Here, being hanging upside down from the wall outside the tenth kingdom. Climbing in the ill-fitting armour had been difficult and his foot had caught in the ivy on the other side, he slipped and now he was hanging upside down with no way out. He’d dropped his sword too. Not to best start to his knightly career, true. He just figured he’d leave this part out of the saga.
Foggy panicked at first, but no amount of thrashing seemed to loosen his bonds so Foggy had decided to be Zen about it for now. Something was bound to turn up eventually, right? Besides he had a great, if upside down, view from here. The whole of the tenth kingdom spread out before him. Ruined and crumbling. Foggy felt bad for all the people who had died, but honestly he thought it was beautiful. The buildings were mostly built from some kind of reddish brown brick and now with the sun setting they caught the light and reflected the red tones even more. The castle in the middle was built from some kind of black stone, it seemed to squat on the horizon like a giant spider waiting for its prey. Foggy felt a bit like a fly caught in a web hanging 20ft in the air like this. In that castle (according to the stories, and Foggy knew all the stories) lay the sleeping dragon, huge and scaly, with wings like a bat and teeth like razors. A terrible monster who lured the innocent Princess Matthew to his doom all those years ago.
Nothing that exciting ever happened at home.
Foggy took a deep breath and tried to twist upwards so he could look at how his ankle was caught.
“Damn it! Who the hell are you? Get out of here!” shouted a voice from below him. Foggy looked down and saw a man in a hooded cape glaring up at him.
“I’d love too,” shouted Foggy. “But I’m a bit stuck, just for the moment.”
The man sighed heavily. “You a knight?”
“Yes!” said Foggy happily. “Sir Foggy, at your service. I didn’t think there were any people this side of the wall.”
“Who said I’m a person?” asked the man. He grinned and Foggy could make out the white of his teeth against the rapidly encroaching dark.”
“You don’t look like much of a monster,” replied Foggy
“You don’t look like much of a knight,” replied the man. Foggy spluttered but the man kept on talking. “I think you might be a problem for Matty.”
He turned to leave, as he turned his hood fell backwards. He had thick curly black hair, and down the back of his neck what looked like shiny scales. Foggy held his breath but the man (?) just kept on walking away. Foggy didn’t know what he’d just seen. If the man had been some kind of monster, why hadn’t he just killed Foggy and been done with it?
A few hours later another man appeared. This one was younger, about Foggy’s age. He wore a cape without the hood and had a piece of cloth tied around his eyes. He stopped underneath Foggy but didn’t look up. “My friend said you were a knight?”
“Yes, I have a sword… but I dropped it somewhere. Can you see it anywhere?” asked Foggy.
“Nope,” said the man sounding very amused. “I’m blind.”
“Oh, sorry,” said Foggy with a wince. “I… I’ve been hanging upside down for a while now, I feel a bit weird to be honest.”
“I can probably find it for you,” said the man with a shrug. “But would you like to get down first?”
“Yes,” said Foggy.
The man took a few steps back and sort of… ran up the wall, climbing as he went. He was level with Foggy in no time. He smirked in Foggy’s general direction. “Hello,” he said. “Come here often?”
“Oh you know,” replied Foggy. “Just hanging around.” The man giggled. “How did you do that?”
The man shrugged. “I was blinded by magic, it had some other effects on the rest of my senses. Where are you stuck?”
“My ankle,” said Foggy pointing. “Sorry, I pointed, that was probably rude.”
The man laughed again and it was probably the blood rushing to Foggy’s head but he thought the man had a nice laugh. He ran a hand over Foggy’s lower leg and ankle.
“Hmm, I think you might have sprained your ankle too.” He pulled a wicked looking knife out of his boot. “Hang on to me,” said the man, wrapping Foggy’s arm round his waist, Foggy had to turn his head to the side to prevent squishing his face into the man’s thigh. “We wouldn’t want you to fall; it’s a long way down.” The man cut the vines and Foggy nearly fell anyway, clinging to the man and a handful of other vines just about saved him. Between them, they managed to get Foggy the right way up and back on the ground, his ankle was definitely something it was swollen and it hurt if Foggy tried to put weight on it.
The man swung Foggy’s arm over his shoulder. “Here lean on me,” he said.
“Thanks,” said Foggy. “And for getting me down. So do you have a name or..?”
The man laughed. “I’m Matty.”
“I’m Foggy, honoured to make your acquaintance,” said Foggy, giving as much of a little bow as he could.
“That was very formal,” teased Matty, heading Foggy away from the wall. “There’s a little village not far from here. I have a friend there who’s a healer. She’ll look you over.”
“I didn’t know there were people here,” said Foggy, doing his best not to lean on Matty too much.
“Refugees,” said Matty. “Most of us got kicked out of Murdock or Fisk. Taxes keep on going up, people have no choice but to pay up, go to jail, or risk the dragon.”
“He’s asleep right?” asked Foggy. “Up at the castle with the Princess?”
“Is that why you came? To rescue the poor, helpless, Princess?” asked Matty, suddenly sounding disappointed and a bit angry.
“Why else would a knight come here?” asked Foggy bristling, what, he wasn’t good enough to rescue a Princess?
“You are really not a knight,” said Matty with a chuckle.
“Excuse you,” said Foggy pulling away. “I am. I have armour, a sword, a stupid horse…”
“Where’s the horse?” asked Matty holding in laughter as Foggy limped away slowly.
“The other side of the wall,” said Foggy. “She was a worse climber than even me. And my sword is back there somewhere, and…” he stopped and rubbed traitorous tears out of his eyes. “And my armour is too big and… I need to be a knight. Because if I can’t do this I’ll have to go home and be a…” he stopped himself and glanced at Matty. “Butcher.”
Matt jogged up catch him up. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re a knight. The armour’s not that bad. And we can go find the sword tomorrow. Let’s just get you to Claire. Okay?”
Foggy nodded and accepted Matt’s help to get the rest of the way to the village.
**
Claire was wonderful. She helped Foggy out of the blasted armour. Cool fingertips checked out Foggy’s ankle and she had an even more wonderful tea that made the pain go away.
“You should keep off it for a few days, do you have anyone you can stay with?” she asked him.
“No,” said Foggy shaking his head.
“He can stay with me,” said Matty.
Matty was wonderful too. Foggy was very glad he came here. None of the knight’s stories had mentioned the lovely and pretty people. Foggy really hoped they weren’t devils in disguise. Matty was giggling again. Foggy really loved that sound it was beautiful.
“You’re talking out loud,” said Claire kindly, kicking Matty in the shin. “I may have brewed your tea a little too long. We’re not devils. And you should know better than to listen to knight’s stories. As a group they are prone to over exaggeration.”
Matty snorted. “You mean outright lying.”
“I tell Karen you said that,” said Claire smirking. “Go on, get out of my hut.”
Foggy let Matty lead him out of the hut and away from the village. He frowned. “We’re leaving the village?”
“My friend and I are camping just outside,” explained Matty. “We’re hunters.”
“Oh,” said Foggy, he was cold, he wished Matty was holding him again, like when his ankle hurt.
Matty wrapped an arm around Foggy’s waist. “There you go,” he said with a smile. “You probably shouldn’t be putting too much weight on that ankle anyway.”
“I was talking out loud again,” sighed Foggy, leaning into the other man.
“Yep,” said Matty. Foggy poked the other man in the side as they walked. “Erm… ow?”
“I’m trying to get you to laugh,” huffed Foggy. “It’s pretty; it sounds like waves on the shore.”
“Wow, you’re poetic when you’re stoned,” said Matty.
“I took lessons in poetry,” said Foggy proudly.
“Hmm-mm. So, you’ve been by the sea?” asked Matty.
“I’m from Nelson, right by the sea. I built a boat when I was a kid, but they wouldn’t let me take it out. I tried to sneak onto a fishing boat. But the royal guard found me.” Foggy said sadly.
“Nelson, that’s a really long way away,” said Matty helping Foggy over a log, they were pretty deep into the forest now.
“Had to come a long way,” said Foggy. “So no-one knew me and I could be a knight. Wow, it’s gone really dark.”
“Sorry,” said Matty. “I didn’t think to bring a lamp, I don’t generally need one. But we’re nearly there now, you should be able to see the fire soon.”
They entered a clearing with a fire in the centre, there were some bags strung up in the trees and a bedroll lay out by the fire. “There’s no tents,” said Foggy.
“Nope, just stay there, while I find out the other bedroll, okay?” said Matty, letting him go and heading over to one of the bags.
Foggy felt himself wobble as Matty let go but he managed to stay upright. “I thought you were staying here with your friend.”
“I am,” said Matty, pulling a something out of the bag. “He’s out checking traps. About 500 yards east.”
“How do you know that?” asked Foggy, Matty was laying a second bedroll by the fire.
“I can hear his heartbeat,” said Matty like it was a normal thing.
“From 500 yards away, that’s a bit creepy,” frowned Foggy.
“I know him really well, and his heartbeat is kind of distinctive.”
“Can you hear mine?” asked Foggy.
“Time for bed, Foggy Nelson,” said Matty cheerfully. He reached up and tugged Foggy’s hand until Foggy sat on the bedroll. “Do you need tucking in?”
Matty was smirking at him, and it suddenly made Foggy cross. “No. I’m not a child. I’d ask you the same, but I guess your friend is doing that for you, yeah? As there’s three of us and only two bedrolls?”
Matty blushed, the low light of the fire made it really pretty.
“Talking out loud again, Foggy,” said Matty moving away. Foggy lay down and almost straight away fell asleep.
**
Matty gave it a few minutes until Foggy’s breathing evened out, signalling he was in deep sleep.
“You can come out now,” he said softly.
Frank came out from the tree line and glanced at Foggy.
“He’s asleep,” said Matty. “He had two cups of Claire’s special tea. I surprised I didn’t have to carry him.”
“Why is he here?” asked Frank gruffly. He pulled off his cape, if Foggy was awake now he’d be able to see the small horns on Franks head, the scales on the back of his neck that ran down to his lower back and the bat-like wings furled up against his back. Not many people knew that a dragon could take a human-like form. There were old stories that no-one believed anymore. Frank was the only dragon to come down from the mountains ever, and he hadn’t been outside this one kingdom in over 70 years.
“He’s hurt,” said Matty. “What was I going to do, let him wander round in that ridiculous armour and get himself killed?”
“He’s a knight,” Frank reminded him. “He wants to kill me.” He sat next to Matt on their bedroll.
“He’s not a knight, and he doesn’t want to kill anyone, he’s running away from something,” said Matt leaning into the other man’s warmth. Frank always ran a few degrees hotter than anyone else.
“Why do I put up with you?” asked Frank, resting his chin on the top of Matty’s head. “I was fine chasing people off, killing the annoying ones. Then you turn up and five minutes later there’s a refugee camp on my doorstep.”
Matty grinned. “I’ve been here 10 years, and the first two of those you wouldn’t even come out of the creepy castle.”
“Like I said, five minutes,” argued Frank. In human form Frank only looked a few years older than Foggy and Matt, but he said he was pushing 200.
They settled down in the bed roll to sleep. “I like him,” said Matty sleepily. “He’s sweet.”
“I promise not to eat him unless he gets really irritating,” said Frank. “Now get some sleep.”