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"This is what I was saying!" Martha screamed. "It's that god damned dog all over again! You save one stray dog, what happens when you come across the next stray dog?! We live in Arkansas, Justin! We could find a stray dog every block if we wanted to! And now that same pathology, with helpless young women stuck in towers? What the fuck, Justin? What about us?! What about you and me? What about Tom and Helen?"

"Babe," Justin said. "I don't know what you want from me. We both knew this job would require travel. We both agreed to this."

"We both agreed to occasional travel!" Martha retorted. "You are not traveling occasionally! Every weekend, you go trolling around looking for another twenty-something to whisk down from a tower, then be like 'oh, I dunno what to do with you, let's just add her to our family'. We have enough 'daughters', Justin!"

"Hey," Justin sounded angry. "Enough, Martha. These little girls need someone too. They have no one, they don't deserve to be locked away their full lives."

"But, honey, that is just the world! That is what we live with! It is like the stray dogs! Do you want to go rescue some?" Martha swung open the front door, from which they could see two stray dogs, one corgi mix, the other a mutt. "Go get 'em."

Justin looked at Martha with vitriol, not speaking to not regret his words.

"This is different." Is all Justin said, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Sure," Martha spat. "Sure. Keep scratching this weird altruistic itch at the downfall of the rest of your family."

"You don't get it!" Justin screamed, suddenly animated. Martha recoiled, slightly scared.

"It didn't start like this!" Justin continued. "The first time I went, I didn't even want to! Clyde and the boys were going and talked me into it. That first time, honey... I didn't think it'd be so bad. That little girl... I still dream of her most nights, skeletally thin, unbathed, chained in her own filth.

"The only thing that has ever helped has been contributing, from dawn until dusk, until you're too tired to take another step. Then slamming a flask or two of whiskey, then gracefully to sleep. And the sleep that comes then is blissful, cradled in darkness. Morning comes and I don't wake up with a tight chest. This is saving me! This is saving my heart!"

By the end, Justin was blubbering. Martha cradled his head as he sank into the couch, laying on her lap.

Their 'daughters' had stirred from the guest house and were wondering what was wrong with their mom and dad.

However, Justin soon fell asleep in Martha's lap, following the intensity of the evening.

Martha invited in the girls, who had breakfast prepared when Justin woke up from his deep slumber.

At first, I tried talking to the hooligans in reasonable terms.

>"You know, locking a teenaged girl up in a tower with no social circle or emotional outlet isn't going to do wonders for her mental health" I noted.
>
>"Yeah. We know. Now go away before our captain calls for the archers to shoot you." one of the outer wall guards responded.
>
>I heard the subtle twing of bowstring from on high.
>
>"Alrighty, thanks for your explanation. Have a wonderful day!" I turned to walk away.

Then, I tried coercion.

>"What do you mean, I don't look convincing! Why, I'm this princess's long lost sister!" I tried my best feminine accent.
>
>"Last I remember, princesses didn't have full grown beards and sound like gruff older men in their 40's." a guard noted. "Do you remember meeting the long lost sister of Princess Persephone?"
>
>"No, I didn't." the guard responded. "If I remember right, it was quite a big deal that the king only ever had one daughter. One is none, and all that."
>
>"Yeah, got it." the guard turned to me. "Please leave before our gunmen shoot you down."
>
>I heard the loading of a magazine from on high.
>
>"Very well. I'll be on my way."

Finally, I tried deception.

>"I'm here as an inspector from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, also known as OSHA, to inspect your castle for proper workplace and building practices. Please, if you will, step aside, and let me enter so I can do my job/." I asked politely.
>
>"OSHA won't exist for another couple hundred years, American. Now scram unless you really want our captain to come out and greet you personally." the guard glared at me.
>
>I heard loud, thunderous stomping from much closer than on high.
>
>"Dang it! Too meta. I'll come back tomorrow." I noted.
>
>Groans emanated from both inside the castle and from the outer wall guards.

Finally, the day came. I was tired of this girl being locked up in a tower.

So I did the right thing.

I picked up my phone, and started dialing.

"Hey, this is Greg." Greg said.

"Hey Greg, wanna go raid a tower?" I asked.

"Sure!"

Soon enough Greg and I were at the tower.

I casually walked up to the tower. Archers, gunners, and the sounds of a very buff man yelling came from the other side of the gate.

"Hello there, castle guard." I smiled.

"Hey, I thought I told you to scram." the guard replied.

"What? Me? Scram? What a preposterous thought!" I laughed.

Immediately, as I predicted, gunners, archers shot at me from above.

They didn't stand a chance.

Bullets and arrows all bounced off me hopelessly, before I chugged a potion from my inventory, and started jumping up into the air. Dirt blocks spawned below me, as I turned my B Hopping cheat on. Then, just for funsies, Greg and I started teleporting around the base at random. Men screamed as they were placed in Obi traps, becoming floating corpses in the middle of the sky, all drowned in midair. I swung at someone with my sword, and they caught on fire. But this wasn't the point.

Soon, Greg and I- having thoroughly dispatched their captain- skillfully used admin commands to teleport ourselves into the chamber where they held the girl. I pulled out a pickaxe, destroyed her chains, and set her free.

Moral of the story? Honestly, I don't fucking know.

"You rescued me!" The princess exclaimed, stepping gingerly over the still warm corpse of the beast that had been her captor.

"Huh?...well yes I suppose" the armor clad knight scratched his chin in confusion. "I just figured that someone should have come out by now."

The princess leaned in, fluttering her eyes just the way she had been taught so many years prior. "Yes, well, aren't you glad it was you?", she whispered, closed her eyes, and brought herself close. She was met quickly, not by the lips of her savior, but by the cold metal of his gauntlet, the knight holding fast with his arm now extended into her face.

"Ah no, I rescued you because you needed rescued. That's all." The knight spoke, hand still firmly in her face.

The princess pulled back, a confused expression only highlighted further by a stray lock of blonde hair falling down over her eyes.

"Also, how old are you? I have a daughter your age you know. You can't possibly be into-", the knight gestured down to himself. To worn armor and a gut that spilled out beyond the plating. To a face full of scruff, scarred from years of service, and a smattering of dark colored blood across his armor. It was true. He was not what she had expected, but still she replied.

"Well, of course I am, you rescued me! I have to show my gratitude somehow." Her words trailed off upon realizing what she had said, or more how she had said it. Now, staring down a man who looked at her with such pity, she understood the strangeness of it all. Rewarding a stranger for being nice, or rather just for being decent.

Sensing her realization the knight cut her thoughts short. "How about this: don't get captured again, and we'll call it even. And if you do, well then have me sent for, ok? My name is Sir Gladstone."

The princess managed to put on a comforted smile up to Gladstone, which he returned.

"Deal." She agreed.

Aww, I love this!

All the feels

I love him and think he should be played by Pedro Pascal

Yes.

Yes he should.

And of course, only takes off his helmet in private.

Naturally, for that is the way

I feel Pedro has been most popular as a Dad lately

DOUSE

As the longsword Wyrmspite blazes to it's fiery glory with the word of power, Sir Tor with a mighty cleave beheaded the drake that was keeping the princess captive.

IGNITE

With that word, Wyrmspite douses it's flames and Sir Tor sheathes the sword.

Approaching the cage that held the princess, he had a look at the lock and balling his armored fist, gave it a good solid punch.

ARGH! Damned arthritis... ...

Shaking his fist in pain, he drew Wyrmspite and prepare to smite the lock.

Sorry old friend but I am not that young anymore.

As the lock laid broken and defeated, Sir Tor pick the princess (who had swooned as princesses are suppose to do) and left the dragon drake's lair. He mount his mighty stallion Windcharger and placing the still swooned princess on the pack mule proceeded to return to his manor.

As Windcharger pranced into the courtyard, there was no jubilation. There was no mobs of serfs or peons cheering him. His courtyard was unkempt, the walls were moss covered and the porticullis creaks as loud as his bones when raised or lowered.

For Sir Tor was a knight of 40 winters. He was no longer the dexterous hulk of his younger years. His plate mail hung loose on his shoulders and did not cover much of his expanding stomach. He has long forgone using his great helm, not because of his experience but rather it hurts his neck and restricted his hearing and vision (of what little that he has left).

He could not provide to keep serfs or peons. He had no squires to wait on him as what use do they have of him, an old knight useless in tournaments and poor in coin.

By nevertheless, like the triumphant knight of old, he tied Windcharger in the stables and cradling the princess, he made for the great hall where his wife and 2 daughters were waiting for his return.

Milady, this here is the captured princess whom I have saved for the drake. Let her into the guest bedroom and to recover for her torments.

Me girls, treat her as you would she be your sister. Give her your finest gowns, your scented water and bathe her as you would yourself.

And so he sat down to dine and to rest his weary bones.

A few days have past hence and the princess has regained her colour and her composure. She was one of regal bearing and royal blood. But humble. She did not command the lady of the manor or her daughters to do tasks nor did she turn her nose at the dilapidated conditions of the manor.

During Evening Fest, the princess stated to Sir Tor

My Good and Gallant Sir Tor, as you have rescued me, duty dictates that I am betrothed to you as just rewards for your deeds.

Sir Tor who was partaking of his soup, started choking and spluttering

My beautiful and delicate princess, that was never my intent for rescuing you. As you can see, I have milady (gestures to her) and my two daughters who are akin to sisters to you in age.

Neigh I say. I will not dishonor milady by breaking my vows to her nor bring gossip into my house by taking one such as young and delicate as yourself.

Sir Tor, it has been decreed by my father, the King of Ashtoria, that whomsoever rescues me will earn his eternal gratitude and that I be given to my rescuer as a reward for the valiant deed.

Now, the land of Ashtoria border the land of Oakenfelt when Sir Tor reside. Ashtoria has nil imperial sway over Sir Tor and hence cannot compel Sir Tor to comply. But age and experience has taught Sir Tor, tolerance is always the road to a long life.

My beautiful princess, please give a day to discuss this with milady and my daughters. It is not a decision to take lightly or in haste.

As so Sir Tor and his family retire to another room and they discussed. They realise that they did not want to anger Ashtoria but they were contented with who they were. The discussion went long into the night but they have come to a decision and it was agreed that Sir Tor will respond on tomorrow's evening fest.

As they sat down for evening fest, Sir Tor at the head of table signal for attention and spoke

As the king of Ashtoria has decreed, whomsoever saves the princess will earn the just reward of being given the princess for the deed.

While my family resides in the lands of Oakenfelt, we are closer to Ashtoria than to Oakenfelt.

And my age has shown me that it is better to have friends than to make enemies.

Hence, my beautiful and delicate princess, is it of free will that you give yourself to my household and myself? As a just reward for my valiant deed of freeing you from the drake?

With coquettish eyes looking at the knight, the Princess said

Yes, I do. It is of my own free will and desire that I be taken into your household and am bestow upon yourself as a just reward.

Very well then. Princess. If you will so kind as to put your intentions onto this parchment, I will have it courier to your father, the King, so hence he knows I have slayed the drake and claim my just rewards so that nil other can lay claim or raise arms against me in protest.

The Princess thought to herself and so with this parchment, I will get my hands on Wyrmspite and Windcharger by the next moon. You are an old man playing at a being knight. Your lady is no better than a fish monger's wife and your daughters will not survive a night in the sordid house of pleasures when I kick them out.

Yes, I will lie with you. I will give you one of pleasure with my body. I will make you feel euphoria, ecstasy and pleasures that your body cannot think of achieving with your fish monger's wife. And then you will be dead the next as the medicine that I give you for regain the vigor of a oak shaft will also render your heart asunder.

My Princess, my princess.

The parchment...

Please endorse the parchment and I have sent to your father the king immediately.

With a flourish of the quill, the Princess signed the parchment, sand was poured upon the ink, a courier was called for and dispatched to the land of Ashtoria. To present the Princess intentions to her father, the King.

As so the deed is done.

Welcome to my humble abode and manor. Princess CINDERELLA.

Thank you!

Glad to please! Im imagining the scene with Pedro Pascal and it's now impossible not to.

It was a snowy evening, and the torches in the streets were dimmed by the thick sheet of snow. The knight and his boys were out smoking; just finishing up the pot with the finest rolled paper in the Seven Kingdoms. He then went home to his wife and kids. His wife has been recently unhappy with his behaviors and more specifically an incident with a princess abandoned in a tower. "WDYM I only saved her because of sexual reasons! She was stuck in the top of the tower and hopeless at that. I am a knight sworn by my duty and she needed a saving. The blowjob was a common courtesy."

Ah yes, typical r/writingprompts doing what it does best- beating up dead unicorns

Sir Lawrence third of his name hefted his armour clad form over the towers stone windowsill with a grunt. He rubbed his eyes with gauntlet covered fingers, mouth aghast, as he surveyed the scene before him. This was not how these things were supposed to go. He’d been set up, a rookie mistake. Lawrence sighed. He knew they’d be talking about this at the tavern for weeks, a Knight of Lawrence’s Caliber being caught in such a position, it was disgraceful. Made worse in the context of the previous few days horrors: scorching deserts, beasts from the abyss, loss of his best sword- a tragedy.

Refusing his wifes request had been out of the question ,who with a firm passionate voice had persuaded him to partake on this quest. “She’s 14 Lawrence. Basically a child! That tower is no place for her!”

He’d tried to argue. “But it’s coming up to my Birthd...”

“Lawrence! This isn’t the knight I agreed to marry. You’re going, and I’ll hear no more about it!” The look she’d given him had left him with no room for further manoeuvre.

“Yes dear” he’d groaned.

Five days later and here he found himself, taking in the scene of the highest tower at the tallest peak.

Bangs erupted. Confetti filled the air. Birthday banners draped from every corner.

His wife, family, friends and fellow knights filled the room, helmets up with a grin spread from ear to ear.

“Happy birthday Lawrence!” They cheered.

But at least the cake was Victoria sponge.

"The dragon has been slain! All Hail Sir Barkley!" The man was aloft his white horse, a beautiful princess on his back.

"My knight, I am sorry I thought it was time for you to be put out to pasture for your age. The kingdom is in gratitude to you." Sir Barkley bowed.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. It was all part of my job."

"I know you did not ask for retirement, even after I allowed it...thank the Maker you did not. Now, it is time for your just reward."

"...just reward? Your gratitude is enough reward for me, Your Majesty."

"If we don't give you the reward, it flies in the face of my kingdom. PREPARE THE ROYAL WEDDING!"

Sir Barkley was shocked.

"...royal wedding?"

"Yes. You saved my daughter, the princess, and as such you will be betrothed to her!" Sir Barkley looked confused as the king continued.

"...uh, Your Majesty...I've BEEN married! For years! Th-the royal bishop ordained my marriage! You know my wife, she works in the royal kitchen as one of your chefs!" The King looked, then was confused.

"...w-well, why did you save my daughter if you're already married? You amongst all the knights know the rule- you save the princess, you marry the princess!"

"I am one of your finest knights. The princess is in trouble, you can't trust a serious problem for the kingdom to an untrained knight. You need the best knight in the country on the job to handle this. Wo-would you have rather I sent one of the new guys out there? Most of them haven't even been taught how to handle a dragon!"

"Well, we never expected that a married knight would go to save the princess." Sir Barkley shook his head.

"You DO remember Princess Fairmaiden is my Goddaughter, right? I'm not about to let her get captured, I swore an oath to you when you gave me and my wife that honor to protect her with our life! I merely did what you expected of me way back when!" The king nodded.

"I remember that well, Sir Barkley..."

"So, you know why I would go to save her without thinking...and you know why I could never marry her. Even if something happened to my beloved wife...I'm literally old enough to be her father myself. I changed her diapers with the queen, for crying out loud! I cannot possibly think of her as a bride...and I'm sure the princess couldn't think of me as one as well!" Princess Fairmaiden looked sheepishly to the king.

"...yes, Father. I know about the rule of the land, but...he's just too old, I've known him for too long. I can't possibly see him as a husband." The King threw his hands up in exasperation.

"...well, I don't know what happens here. ...oog, this is unprecedented. We've had so many different pairings of knight and royalty, all of which saw the betrothal without a problem, and the law of the land has been used forever...but this is the first time we've had a knight who saved royalty refuse to marry the person they saved. I can't imagine sending Princess Fairmaiden to a convent because she has been rejected."

Both Sir Barkley and Princess Fairmaiden were taken aback.

"A CONVENT?"

"A convent, Your Majesty?" The king looked downwards.

"We cannot go otherwise. If she has been saved by a knight who will not marry her, she must go to a nunnery. It's the rules of the land."

"Oh god..." Sir Barkley shook his head.

"King Lawler, I ask for one request before deciding on this."

"Yes, Sir Barkley."

"...to me, my son, my squire." King Lawler had his pages send to the knights' helm, and finally, a young man headed in.

"Father, what did you need me for?" Sir Barkley looked downwards, then started speaking as if he was badly reading lines.

"Why, I needed my son to be here to find out that I am about to kidnap Princess Fairmaiden! I cannot let her be sent to a nunnery, and so I kidnap her!" Sir Barkley went to his sword, then dropped it. "OH NO! My sword has fallen out of its hilt! I'm sure only someone who has known my style of fighting could defeat me easily!" Sir Barkley winked to his son, who caught on immediately. His son grabbed the sword and swung at Sir Barkley, who fell to his knees.

"I am beaten! The Princess has been saved, and by my own son no less! How could this be..."

King Lawler looked, as Princess Fairmaiden caught on and hugged Sir Barkley.

"Father, the rule is there...I HAVE just been saved by this man..."

King Lawler nodded.

"Let the preparations for the royal wedding begin!" Princess Fairmaiden hugged the squire as they left. King Lawler looked at Sir Barkley.

"...you could have just asked to have your son betrothed to the princess instead..." Sir Barkley looked.

"I am a knight. I serve the land and my King. If the land's laws say that the person who saves the princess must be betrothed to her, then the person who saves the princess will be betrothed to her."

"I understand. You are aware I will have to take you from my knights for this, right?" Sir Barkley nodded.

"You had said it was time for me to retire anyway, right?"

"Aye, my dear friend...or family, is it?" The king and his knight shook hands.

Sir Gladstone, thinking twice, trained the princess how to sword fight so he doesn't need to be called again

"By jingo, that was a riot." said the Princess.

"Hold still; you've got brains in your hair." Said the knight as he pulled lumps of sticky pink matter from her blonde locks.

"Ewww, that's gross." She said, leaning back. She felt the hard steel of his codpiece nestled against the small of her back.

" I say, is that a codpiece, or are you pleased to see me?" said the Princess with a giggle.

"Ok, missy, let's get one thing straight. I'm here to rescue you, and that's it. No funny business, ok?"

"Boooooring." The Princess replied as she spun around and fell against his breastplate.

The knight held out his arms and took a step backwards. The Princess stumbled, falling forward, her forehead meeting the spike on his sabaton with a squelch.

The knight looked down. The protruding spike parted her blond locks as it dripped blood and brain.

"Bugger."

One:

Through wind and rain Bael rode,

Facing dangers of monsters known and untold.

He rushed to free the abandoned Princess

Who found herself cursed and in deep distress.

Bael the Gentle, kind and good

Knew his journey could be misunderstood

So he carried with him a rose and ring

Representing his family, his life, his everything.

The tallest tower in all of Elderwood cast its long shadow across Bael and his trusty steed, Misty. The summer was slowly fading into autumn and the wind that whipped Baron's dark blue cloak around him carried with it a new chill. Bael shifted his weight in his saddle and tried not to think about how long he’d been away from his family. Misty began to stir beneath him, her dark brown eyes watching the trees suspiciously. Bael patted the side of her white and grey head and cooed, “It’s okay girl, we’ll be on our way home soon.”

With a gentle kick Misty began to walk forwards and into the dark shadow of the tower. Bael looked up as they walked, feeling his stomach turn and twist in knots. The tower was impressive, he’d pay the King that much of a compliment. It loomed above even the tallest trees in this ancient forest. They swayed and moved around it yet it stood firm. The construction of such a building was magnificent to behold, it was such a shame that the King was using it for such a sinister punishment. For his very own daughter too.

Bael’s stomach twisted as his eyes moved slowly up the side of the white tower and his thoughts slipped towards his own daughters. He imagined climbing up the tower and falling down part way up. He imagined his crumpled bones and the agony on his family’s faces when they realized he would never come home.

Bael shook the thoughts out of his head and took in a deep breath. Weeks of travel and the discomforts that accompany it were making him think unreasonably. He was a brave man, but he always prided himself in his ability to think things through and plan. Bravery alone makes people rush into bad situations to prove themselves. Bael was old and successful. He had nothing more to prove to anyone or himself. He was not here to prove anything anyway. He was here on principle, on the moral truth that he felt about right and wrong. It was wrong to imprison a young girl like this for any reason, Bael didn’t care what one’s relation to that girl was. A true father would never disrespect his daughter so, and Bael was here to right that wrong.

So if it took his ageing body longer than a spry young thing to climb up the tower, who cares? He would get there eventually, and he would get there alive. Plus, there were no witnesses, so the songs and stories that spread through the land about his journey would most likely include some fantastic climbing sequence that made him look like a hero of legend. A smile softened Bael’s bearded face as they reached the bottom of the tower.

Bael hopped off Misty and began to take off the saddle and prepare her for the night. She had spent many days travelling and Bael knew he pushed her to her limits. He bumped his nose against hers affectionately as he handed her an apple from the palm of his hand.

“You know how much I love and appreciate you right?” He said, nuzzling her as she happily chewed the apple to bits. Her brown eyes smiled and she nuzzled him right back.

When Misty was taken care of Bael began to set up his own tent and sleeping arrangements. As he did he couldn’t help but look up at the tower. It was so tall that the top of it seemed to be lost in the clouds. Bael’s stomach twisted at the thought of climbing that thing again. From what he had learned in his research about it and its construction, this tower was built so that there was only one way out and that way could only be opened from the top. But this exit was also secret and kept safe with many riddle-locks. Bael didn’t know exactly what riddle-locks this tower contained, the King never wrote that down, but he did know what kind of riddle-locks the King had been looking at during the construction of this tower. Bael had spent many late nights studying every riddle-lock he could get an example of and so he was fairly confident that once he got into the tower he could get out.

But getting into the tower was a completely different and unique challenge. There was a piece of the tower that connected to the top and worked like a lift. The King would’ve used this mechanism to get his daughter up there but he also would have taken that back home with him. As far as Bael could tell, climbing was the only way in.

Climbing something this tall in itself was enough of a feat, but even that was complicated. In the blueprints Bael had stolen from the King’s Guard for the tower, he noticed that the sides of it were full of traps and contraptions designed to make any climber fall. Unfortunately, the blueprints that Beal had were first drafts and so some of the plans could’ve changed, but Bael knew there would still be traps. Ropes could be cut, hands would most likely be wounded, and the climbers would surely fall.

Bael glanced around shyly, half expecting to see some poor dead fools who had attempted to climb the tower scattered around. He didn’t see any, but he also knew that there were wolves and other beasts in these forests who would most likely claim any body that happened to fall down.

So with all the conventional ways of climbing out of the question, Bael had to be creative with his plan on how to climb up the tower.

The fire sparked to life just as the last, lingering sun rays were fading from the sky. Bael began to prepare his dinner as Misty stood close by, her eyes still watching the edges of the forest. Bael felt it too, this strange tension in the air and the smell of a threat he hadn’t quite discovered yet. As his dinner of rabbit and potatoes sizzled on the fire Bael pulled out a wooden box and opened it up gently.

Inside were about fifty small metal objects that shimmered in the firelight. Bael was quite proud of this invention. He knew that the King did not plan on the climber’s using magic to climb, it was expensive and hard to come by. He also knew that the King didn’t plan for materials stronger than basic rope and wood.

He pulled out one of the contraptions and turned it in his hands. It was perfectly circular on the front but completely flat on the back. It was, cold to the touch and heavy, but not too much of a burden. They had to be heavy enough to be effective but light enough to carry many up the side of a mountain or, in this specific case, tower. At the bottom there was a metal wire, made from one of the strongest metals known to humanity and a hook. Bael would be able to fasten the back of these contraptions to the walls and they would bind to the stone. No matter what happened that binding could not be severed. Bael also had a pair of metal gloves that were made for this purpose. They clung to stone walls and allowed him to hold on if anything else failed.

Bael looked up at the tower nervously. He was sure this would work. It had to.

End Part One

The rest of the night was uneventful until after the sun had set. Bael found himself dozing in and out of sleep, the crackling fire and night bird songs soothed his exhausted body. He tried to stay awake but the days of travel were weakening his ability to resist the whispers of the sandman. He thought of his beautiful wife, Mel, and his three daughters. He fell asleep to the image of their joyful faces.

A snapping noise startled Bael awake. The fire was embers and it flickered on and off as if the fire was breathing. The hairs on the back of Bael’s arms were rising as he stumbled to his feet and grabbed for his sword.

“You should not have come here,” an amused, high-pitch voice said from the trees. Bael’s eyes looked at every shadow but he couldn’t see who was speaking. He waited and she continued, “No one is to see the Princess. No one is to climb the tower. I must kill you, by order of the King.”

A red whip struck forwards and almost caught Bael’s right leg but he moved just in time and it wrapped itself around air and flickered back. Bael lifted his ornate shield and held a defensive stance. There was a moment of silence and all Bael could hear was the sound of his own uneven breathing. It was hard to see in the dark but the moon was high in the sky and full, so shapes were relatively illuminated. Bael shifted his weight and looked around just as an eerie, thick, grey fog began to billow into the clearing, swept up by the wind like a great wind storm.

“I am here to free the Princess,” Bael shouted in no particular direction, his loud voice echoing around the clearing, “No one should be held prisoner like this. She is innocent.”

“Innocent?” the voice sneered as another attack whipped forwards. This one caught Bael’s sword but he turned with it and managed to pull his weapon away before it could be wrenched from his hand. “She is anything but innocent. I warn you, leave this place, or die.”

Lightening struck the ground in front of Bael and he jumped back before it snapped against his pants. His eyes found a figure in the mist and he ran forwards, dodging the whip and deflecting it away. Finally he saw his attacker, a tall, thin witch with black hair, grey skin, and black eyes. She smiled coldly, her thin mouth full of small, sharp teeth, and blew a gust of freezing air towards Bael. He caught the wind and frost in his shield and, activating his Knight Stone, absorbed the magic and threw it back at her. She was caught off guard for a second and Bael slashed at her with his sword. She vanished and reappeared further away from him. Rising her arms she snapped electricity towards him and he dodged it just in time. Bael groaned in annoyance and took his crossbow off his back. He whispered the secret word to it, “Agathenthia” and it began to glow with red light that flickered in the witches black eyes.

“Where did you get that?” she managed to say before she was blasted back and stuck into a tree with the bolt sticking out of her chest. Her body spasmed chaotically, red magic rippling through her, before her body went limp and she hung there silently. Bael breathed deeply and fastened his weapon on his back. He spat towards the hanging witch and made his way back to the tower. He tried to sleep but was still awake as the sun began to ignite the land.

End Part Two

Bael was exhausted and irritated as he busied himself with preparing his contraptions for climbing. Misty refused to leave his side and although this was very sweet Bael was in quite a mood and she was just getting in the way. After the third time she blocked him from reaching the tower in time to connect his contraptions properly Bael sighed and patted her affectionately, “Okay,” he said softly, “I suppose I should take a break and try to have something to eat.”

The birds sung sweetly as Bael prepared himself a quick breakfast of bread, cheese, and the last of his grapes. He checked his pack and realized that he only had four apples left so he tossed Misty one and put the others away. She needed them more than he did.

With his belly only feeling a little satiated Bael began to place the first contraption on the tower wall. He worked on soothing his breathing and containing his fears as Misty watched him anxiously.

“Don’t look so worried,” Bael said, side-eying Misty. “You’re making me worried. I’ll be back before you know it. It’s easy,” Bael looked up and tried to push down the lump in his throat. “Piece of cake really….”

The annoying thing about being a hero is the fears never go away, you just get better at pretending you don’t feel them. Bael imagined it was a lot like stage fright. Even the best theatre performers say they feel anxious and afraid before a big performance. In his ripe age he was beginning to realize that he would always feel like that worried young man before a battle or a big challenge. Bael took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, held it for a second, and then released it loudly.

It’s now or never, he thought.

Bael carried the rest of the contraptions in a bag that hung off his shoulder and also had with him some basic supplies. He was pretty sure the Princess was alive and well kept up there in the tower, but he couldn’t be certain that her father didn’t leave her up there with nothing to eat.

Bael tested the wire of the first he had placed on the wall, as far as his arm could reach, and it held, so he pulled his crossbow off his back and found the right bolt in his pack. He fastened the contraption to the end of the bolt with the back of it facing the wall. He connected the contraption in the crossbow to the one close to him on the wall and then took some steps back.

Bael aimed, closed one eye, and released the bolt about 50 feet up. He heard the proper clicking sound as the contraption made contact with the wall and nodded.

Bael fastned another contraption to his crossbow, connected his belt to the wire, rubbed his gloved hands together, and began to climb.

Bael knew that there were no traps in the first five feet, but he kept his eyes open as he made his way from one contraction to the next. His belt dragged along the wire that connected the two contraptions. It was enchanted with a locking spell so that if it got suddenly jerked in one direction it would lock into place and instead of falling to his death Bael would hang against the side of the tower.

This was perfect except if there was a trap close beneath him. Because of this, Bael did not intend to fall and hoped he would simply be able to avoid all the traps. He’d planned his route many times and optimized it, but he knew that the King could’ve added more traps or changed things around between the plans he saw and the finalised ones.

Bael promised himself he would not look down so he kept his eyes firmly up. He was approaching the first trap, he suspected, so he took out his crossbow and aimed above him and to the right. This path would hopefully take him between two traps. As he climbed he noticed a hole in the tower and two serrated blades waiting for something to trigger them. Bael was careful about which bricks he placed his hands on to pull himself up. He knew many of the bricks were what activated the traps.

Bael had placed three more bolts and avoid seven more traps when his foot slipped and he sharply fell. In his panic he reached out for the wall but his finger caught the edge of one of the trigger bricks. Suddenly the wall was full of sharp spikes that jutted out and, if the rope had been made of anything else, it probably would’ve broken.

Bael’s breathing was heavy as he assessed his situation. He was hanging just beyond the reach of the spikes, but they were close. He couldn’t use them to climb because they were very sharp. He bit his lip and eyed the situation.

He took out another contraption, put it on a bolt and activated the locking spell on his belt by saying the secret word “bak’ell.” He tested the best and it held firm. Bael put his feet against the wall and leaned back, aiming his cross bow up. He kicked off a little and shot the bow about thirty feet up. He came back to the wall and held onto it with the gloves as he unlocked the spell.

Suddenly Bael kicked away from the wall as hard as he could. While in the air he pulled himself up the wire as quickly as he could so that by the time he swung back he was above the spikes. His boot caught the tip of one of the spikes and he thought he punctured the leather, but otherwise he made it. Bael snuck a look down. He was only about half way up and his arms were getting tired. But he needed to keep going.

Bael made it up the rest of the tower with just a few near misses. He was almost burned into a crisp, almost stabbed through the chest, and nearly lost an arm, but he had reached the clouds and he could see the Princess’ window.

When he finally reached the window the sun was nearly setting and shadows were filling the clearing beneath him. Bael peered through the window but the room was completely dark. He tried to open the window but, unsurprisingly, it was locked. Bael dug in his pack and pulled out another small contraption. He fastened it to the window, pushed the sides, and moved away from it, shielding his face. A small “bang” boomed and the glass shattered. Bael cleared the glass and pulled himself through the window.

He felt an immense sense of relief as his boots touched the ground but that was quickly taken away as he looked around the room he’d entered. This was not the Princess’ chambers, and Bael was afraid he’d have a long way to go before he actually found her.

End Part Three

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Dumb law, clever solution

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Guy doesn't talk to his wife tho, big mistake.

Ah yes our best weapon, loopholes.

I saw Mandy Patinkin but I like yours better

TWILIGHT

“40 isn’t that old,” said the princess.

“Old enough to reject you as a reason,” the knight replied.

“But you are still handsome,” she insisted, “I wish I can keep a shape like you in my 40s.”

“It’s not easy. You have to workout five times a week.”

“That’s why I refer to it as a ‘wish’.”

“I can’t believe you just stay in the tower doing nothing. Look at your face, you are as pale as a vampire.”

“I don’t have a tanning spray.”

“It’s not about tanning spray. Why not go out for a walk…”

“Like a date with you?”

“To get some sunshine.”

“You expect me to shine like a diamond under the sunlight, huh?”

“NO MORE twilight reference. Where do you get all these old YA contents? Don’t you have some real book to read in the tower?”

“It’s a tower. Call it a fortune to have an IKEA instruction manual to read.”

“It’s certainly a fortune that you are not one of my kids.”

“So, tell me more about your wife. What’s she like? Is she nice to you? How’re things going with her and the kids?”

“Wow, slow down a bit, this is way too personal. I’m your firefighter, not your potential boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I know. Because you are 40 and I’m only 26.”

“You are at most 16.”

“15, actually.”

“How rare for you to say something real. Now go, don’t make me regret liberating you.”

“To where I should go? Into this forest? There is danger everywhere. Look at that flower, it biting… that cat?”

“You’ll get used to it. There is just a slight difference between here and the earth.”

“You call this slight difference? We are floating in the air.”

“You will get used to it. You must.”

“Sure I will. But have you? You can never get used to all these, right?”

“I will. I can have my new life begin here. You have no idea how many sacrifices we have to make to get this Dyson Sphere done.”

“There, there. I’m here with you.”

“Go, go into the forest. And I will know you’ll always be there somewhere.”

“Are there any other towers for you to open?”

“You are the last one.”

“I’m sorry your family is not here.”

“I’m sorry I am not your father.”

“He told me he would let me out when the Sphere is set. He promised me that everything would be just fine. But only a few people survived, isn’t it?”

“Shush… look now, right there, can you see the twilight.”

“It’s… as beautiful as it on earth.”

​

Want to know where they are, check the short video: Dyson Sphere MetaVerse

I'm convinced several lawyers just cringed at the accuracy

Lol interesting

The problem I have with this prompt is not the prompt itself but that everyone responding to it completely fails to remove 21 century socioeconomic standards from their stories.

Would you consider the damsel in a tower trope to be a dead unicorn? It’s obviously overused in old fairy tales and hasn’t really been used as a serious plot point since then, but I thought dead unicorns were ‘perceived tropes’ that were never actually popular despite now being the butt of parodies and subversions.

I know right? Obvious fairy tale setting and yet nearly all of them are set in either the present or a vaguely fairy tale themed present.

He collapsed down onto a pile of rubble in a great clattering of plate mail, his sword falling to the ground though still chained to his gauntlet.

“Brave sir knight, you have rescued me from incarceration, wouldst though remove thine helmet so I might gaze upon thy countenance?” the princess asked with all the confidence of being born into wealth and power.

“No,” he replied curtly.

The princess looked at him dumbfounded, having never been refused a request so harshly; even her captors had treated her like royalty, apologising for the necessity of her kidnap.

“What do you mean ‘No’, she asked finally finding her words even if not the high born speak expected of royalty.

“It’s a simple enough word, two letters, no, I’m not going to take off my helmet,” the knight answered gruffly after taking a moment to catch his breath.

“I never…” the princess stammered out.

“Look, why do you want to see under my helmet, I’m sweaty, flushed, poorly shaven, I’ve not brushed my teeth since yesterday and I stink inside this armour because I’ve been riding for a day straight to rescue you. Do you think this is some kind of tale where the low born knight rescues the princess and asks the king for his hand in marriage?” he scoffed out an interruption.

It was the princesses turn to slump down on her rump in the rubble. She had indeed grown up on bards tales of knights rescuing princesses and scandalous marriage proposals that the king was honour bound to uphold. It was what had made the whole kidnapping process bearable.

He looked over at the slumped princess seeing her disappointment. For a minute he was reminded of his own daughter and he felt bad for being so gruff with her.

“Look, life isn’t a bard’s tale, I hate to be the one to break it to you princess, and I understand, what you’ve got waiting for you back at the palace is a proposal from some pampered prince who couldn’t lift his own bath sponge let alone a sword,” he consoled.

The princess looked up at him tears in her eyes, not just from the disappointment, her emotions in general were bubbling to the fore. She had put on a brave face but being kidnapped had been stressful and scary, and the whole time she hadn’t been able to escape the memory of her lady in waiting, clutching a white pinafore to her belly that was gradually turning a deep claret colour; while her ordinarily rosy cheeks grew paler in exchange.

“Look you’re about the age of my daughter and I’ll tell you what I told her, if you don’t want to have a marriage arranged for you then become the kind of woman that gets to pick out a man you want confidently,” he said before groaning and awkwardly getting himself back onto his feet.

The princess looked up at him bleary eyed and simply asked, “how?”

The knight pulled off his helmet and shook out his thinning mop of sweaty hair. He smiled down at her the way a father does to his daughter then kicked over one of the kidnappers fallen blades.

“Let’s start with the basics, how to hold a sword, then work our way up to not getting kidnapped and needing rescue again, I’ll probably too old to do this next time,” he joked.

I meant more precisely the trope of a princess locked in a lonely tower. Princesses in fairy tales are usually locked up in the highest towers of a castle or royal palace by a father who does not want her to lose her chastity. The only fairy tale I know of where a girl was locked up in a lonely tower in the middle of nowhere is Rapunzel. And Rapunzel isn't even a princess.

I can't not see this being sir Samuel Vimes. He didn't rescue her for reward, just because it was the right thing to do.

That princess is wack

Wait.. so the princesses stayed with them? Or why is it 'daughters'? Cause from what I get, they have a son and daughter, Tom and Helen

Wait.. so the princesses stayed with them? Or why is it 'daughters'? Cause from what I get, they have a son and daughter, Tom and Helen

Well, he's doing it now.

Ahh. Gotcha

How did they get there before him? Did he take scenic route?

On dragon back of course!

Pedro + small person who needs taken care of = blockbuster hit

Didn't realize they were friends with Donkey

This man would do well with a Genie's lamp I imagine

Oh Lady, what would he do?

The princess is in another tower

They got a new maid for the house. The reward was to be given the princess, not to marry her.

“Yes, well done brave hero!” said the princess after Lorrath, the evil king, collapsed to the ground.

David took a deep breath and resheathed his sword, then turned to the princess: “Yes, thank you. Are you unhurt? Let us go now.”

“Oh, I’ll go with you anywhere! But come untie me first.”

“Sure sure, I’ll free you and take you home. Where do you live?” said David as he undid the rope that bound the princess to one of the stone columns at the back of the room.

“Oh hero, thank you, but don’t take me back to my parents, take me with you on your adventures instead!”

“No,” quickly replied David, obviously prepared for this line of dialogue. “I can’t take you with me. Besides just how old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

“I am seventeen actually,” said the princess with an unmistakable tone of pride, “and I’m old enough for adventuring.”

“Fine, you can set off on a magical journey by yourself, after I take you home first,” said David, as he grabbed the princess by the hand and led her out of the room.

The princess tried to adjust her stride to keep up with his, but her gown made this very difficult, and while unsteadily following behind she started speaking: “But my knight, you don’t seem to understand. I’ve fallen for you the moment I saw you enter the room. May I ask for your name?”

“Yes, yes. Name’s David. Pleasure to be of service,” said David offhandedly. Can’t they ever come up with a more convincing line?

“Oh David, what a fitting name for a mighty knight like yourself. My name is Jazmyn.”

David? Nobody’s named like that anymore. Is this guy like 40? Ugh, just my luck… Oh well, no matter.

“I must thank you once more for your help. Fighting for my sake, what a noble thing! Won’t you stay by my side, protect me and keep me safe forever more?”

They were now hastily descending the long flight of stairs leading down from the upper ward of the tower.

“Look kid, I’m just doing my job. Let’s hurry out of here before some of these monsters respawn. I killed quite a few on my way up. Lorrath himself might come back at some point.”

What the hell is wrong with this guy? Is he new to this?

The main door of the castle was in sight at last, and David let out a sigh of relief. Whew, another job done without getting hurt. Luck had been on his side lately with these easier dungeons.

“Ah, how very selfless of you, saving me without any expectation of recompense. But nonetheless, knight David, I wish to reward you with the most precious of gifts,” said Jazmyn as they stepped into the daylight. She paused her walk and said with a soft and enticing voice, “I want you to take me as your bride.”

Ah, here we go again, thought David, as he turned around to address the princess: “Princess, Jazmyn, I saved you because it’s my job. Plus by law, I am entitled to receive compensation from the knights guild for my work. So you’re safe, I get my money, and everyone’s happy.”

“Wha…?” The unfinished word escaped Jazmyn’s mouth. “Wait a minute, this isn’t right… You’re meant to rescue me and marry me and then we live happily ever after or something.”

“Princess, I don’t know where you read that, but this isn’t a fairy tale. Most of us are in this line of work for the money. We have families to take care of… Look, you’re safely out of the castle now so that counts as a job done. If you want to tag along I’ll escort you to the neighboring village. Otherwise I’ll be off,” said David. Then he turned away and began to walk towards his horse, tethered to a nearby post.

Did this guy just turn me down? What the hell?

Jazmyn fell to her knees in disbelief. Then started shouting after the knight: “This is not how it’s supposed to go! I was going to get a knight for a husband and go on adventures! How am I supposed to face my parents after this? Tell them I was rescued and then rejected!?”

But David had mounted his horse and was now almost out of sight.

“Fuck you David!!”

—

Cold air radiates from the old stone walls. The familiar coarse texture of rope grazes her wrists.

“Now now, maybe you’re just not attractive enough?” says Lorrath with a good laugh. “Well, not a problem. I’m happy to keep you around for a while longer. It’s good bait for fights and if I win I get great EXP.”

“Whatever…” says Jazmyn.

Love this, they have brunch every Wednesday.

Distracted by side quests.

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I think Tom and Helen are their biological, non-adoptive children.

Me playing BOTW collecting golden poop while Zelda holds back Ganon.

I thought so too. That's why I'm confused by "daughters".

And 'daughters' being the princesses staying in the guesthouse. She's referring to two different groups of people.

Yeah. We definitely need and want more details 😁

I think all the details you're asking for are in the story as is.

Clearly not since we don't know if the 'daughters' are actually the girls they saved. And if it is, why haven't they returned to their families?

Going out into the wild to stab rare and likely endangered animals in order to discover new food recipes is more important than saving the world from the darkness.

Well.. wife has been nagging to go out for a while and I could really use a baby-sitter.

Probably rescued her because the dragon who kidnapped the princess belonged to his wife and he felt a moral obligation to clean up its mess. It being killed probably was just because it had a malfunction and asploded.

Finally an honest answer at the end. Made me laugh.

Cool story.

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It went a little meta around halfway through, and I didn’t really know what to do with it after that, so I just threw audience immersion to the wind and went goofy.

Princess Carina stacked her book onto her leaning pile that now stood a head taller than her seated self. She reached over to another book and looked over the index with studious intent. Her eyes narrowed in on a chapter and flipped through the pages to the correct section. She tore through the illustrations and notes, yet she her teeth began to grind all the more as her eyes welled with hot, salty tears.

The royal launched the book out the window that fell next to a sleeping cat that ran full force into the fence. She crossed her arms under her chest and growled lowly before the tower of tomes came crashing down on her.

The door to her room opened slowly as the grandfather of the knight who rescued her lushed his way into the room. “Princess, are you alright?”

“Leave me be!” she roared with as much fury as the dragon that formerly held her hostage.

The old man picked two of the books revealing that they were in fact volumes.

Types of Rescuers Vol. 5 Types of Rescuers Vol. 13

He took a seat near him and thumbed through the books. It detailed the many scenarios of people that could one day be the lady’s rescuer.

“I’mma guessing yer not to fond of ma grandson savin’ ya, huh?”

The princess rose to her seat. A drape of hair overtook her left eye. “I’m just disappointed is all.” she huffed.

“Been there plenty o’ times.” the old man said with a knowing chuckle. “What thorn pokes ya the most though?” He stroked his cloud of a beard as he spoke.

The lady tossed her hand over the room of books. “I thought I had it all figured out. I even thought of what would happen if another dragon freed me. However, I never thought of how to react to someone who already . . . I just don’t know why he would go through the trouble if he . . . “

“Try to think on my question.” he said while pumping his hand. “What thorn hurts the most?”

The princess thought on the question for a longer than usual moment. She curled her knees in and rested her chin on them. “I think it’s the fact that I kind of feel useless. Rescuing me was supposed to be a great feast for knight. Yet, I feel cheated. Like what happened didn’t count.”

“I see.” the old man sighed in revelation. “You walked to be the reason someone was elevated in status.”

“I sound like I’m whining, don’t I?”

“You actually sound like you’re confused.” he responded. “Come. I’ll show you something.”

The old man brought the royal outside the manor and took a spot on the porch. He let a grunt escape as he rocked back in his rocker.

“Why don’t ya take a look-see out here.” he pointed out to the fields where the hired hands were hard at work. “Ya see them? Them’s criminals turned farmers. Weren’t good fer nothing till Shamus gotta hold off ‘em.”

He pointed out to the grassy field where the knight’s lady was playing with her children. “That woman right there was the meanest, nastiest, most drunkest harlot in the kingdoms.”

“Ya see the pattern yet?”

Princess Carina digested the words for a bit. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in realization. “He didn’t save me because he wanted to increase his value. He saved me because I needed saving.”

The princess smiled as she turned to see the ear to ear grin on the elder’s face. He took off a piece of an apple with his pocket knife and handed it to the lady.

“Some people’s, like ma grandsonny, are just more noble than noble.”

Commenting cause I want to read a part 4 also I hope he has mushrooms

The knight lifted the helmet from one of his fallen foes and used it to bash the lock open, finally kicking down the door. He took two steps in and found the small girl, beaten and afraid, a ball and chain around her ankle. She got up frantically, but in an attempt to move, she tripped and fell, her chin splitting on the cold stone.

"Princess Maiko, you are alive!" The man stepped forwards with haste. "I had assumed you had fallen at the hands of these ruthless savages!" He inspected the red haired girl, deeming her relatively put together. "I heard of your absence and came to rescue you, but I feared I was too late." He clenches his fist, getting on one knee and opening his arms. "You are safe now."

The girl slumped forwards, sobbing into the shoulder of the brave warrior. "Thank you... I thought I was to die in this wreched place! Please, take me home with you."

The soldier lifted the small child, looking her in the eyes. "I am sorry, milady, I have a wife, currently watching over my dearest daughter Ina" He stood. "Apologies for not explaining the situation, I deemed it unfit to say."

Maiko seemed to stand taller and puff out her chest, assuming that made her look older. "Sixteen!" She cried."I am sixteen next month! And despite my status as royalty, I do not mind wife in laws!"

The man seemed disappointed. "I am two, closer to three times your age, and I have been married to Mrs Sinclair since I was a peasant boy. I believe she is perfect for me, that much is true, but I also believe that I was hasty, that I rushed marriage. That was a fool's move, but fate smiled upon me. Do not walk in my footsteps, for a stroll between the trees behind a wandering old man is far less reliable than using the path around the forest."

The girl looked sad. "But, you must be compensated for your actions, you saved my life! Is that not to be rewarded greatly? I am the second heir to the throne, I walk along the border between east and west while the eastern peasants shout crude comments, and the western nobles shout offers for my hand in marriage! Its all yours, for free! Please, brave knight, take me as your bride, do me the honour of allowing me to live in your presence, so you may return home to Freya and Ina as on a normal day, and to me, a third place in the happiest home in all the land." She gripped his hand with all her strength, yet the man waved her off with incredible ease.

"I saved you because you were a helpless child, and because it is my duty as a Knight. You are too young, and I am too old. I am old enough to be your father, even a grandfather if both I and my children had children at your age. Just go back home, return to your studies. If, in a few years time, you wish to get married, I will have no objection. You may marry whomever you like. You are a child, and I am forty, and a married one too.

"I cant go home. My father says so." The girl muttered sadly. "He says if I were to be captured then I was to marry my saviour or lay slave to my captor. He said something about motivating knights for future."

The Knight stands up with rage flashing in his eyes, lifting Princess Maiko by one arm and placing her on her feet. "I may refuse to be your husband, but there is still time for you to grow in a decent household, with a family who cares for you, and not for some obnoxious ulterior motives" He stabs his battle axe into some furniture to relieve himself of the burden and free his other hand. "My name Sir Seamus, but you can call me father."