Fighting the cliché

“I’ll have no more of this, Tessa! Alec, take her to the dungeon with her sister!”

Tess stared, then began, “Father, you’re being ridiculous. You know what will happen if you send Cecilia and I to the dungeons. Some knight will come and rescue us, fall in love with her and take her away, then he’ll tragically die, she’ll come back here, spend six weeks in mourning, then I’ll be out riding one day and when I come home the whole cycle will have started again!” It was the way the cliché worked.

Sir Thomas moved his huge bulk off his throne-like chair and moved down the dais towards his eldest daughter until there were only inches between them. Tess was the same height as him, but he was at least twice as wide, and she could feel the coarse red hairs of his beard bristling.

“You will not talk to your father like that,” he said in a very good impression of venom. “Alec!” he shouted. “Take her away!”

Alec scuttled down from his perch behind the chair and gently took Tess’s arm. “Come on,” he muttered in her ear. “He won’t let it be until you’re there.”

With a sigh, knowing Alec was right, Tess turned and let him lead her out of the room. As soon as the mahogany doors swung shut behind them, Alec let go of her arm and grasped her hand instead.

“Come on,” he said again.

Tess sighed. If it was anyone but Alec coaxing her away she would have refused to follow. She watched him, a head shorter than her even with his sticking up hair, bouncing slightly, probably buoyant at the fact they were holding hands. Tess refused to go out with him, and had been doing so for the past three years -that is, the three years since Cecilia’s sixteenth birthday came around and all the trouble started. Several times Alec had suggested they run for it, but it was Tess’s duty as eldest to obey her father and try to keep Cecilia in line, and Alec was obliged to look after her father. They were friends, Alec was her best and only friend in fact, but she didn’t want to be anything more in case their situations ripped them away from each other.

“Do we have to go?” Tess whined.

“Yes. Cecilia’s already down there anywhere, so it won’t make much difference. I’ll ask the chef to make something nice for the two of you to make it better.”

“You’re not coming for dinner?” she teased him.

He shook his head and looked to the wall of the long gallery they were heading down. Tess looked up too. Above her head, a portrait of her father looking incredibly pompous hung, as if commanding them to do what they were told.

“I hate this,” Tess said truthfully as they continued. “Someday I’ll just ride off and never come back.” She smoothed her hand along her jodhpurs. Every morning she took her horse, Darling, out for a ride and it wasn’t unusual for her to come back and find Cecilia in the dungeons. She entertained the notion of running away. The Kingdom was a vast place, their estate was protected from wild magic, but beyond, who knew? Girls in market places found fairy godmothers, briars grew over abandoned castles… but Tess truly wanted to get away from all that to somewhere that was normal.

“Don’t say that,” Alec said. “I’d miss you,” he added sweetly. “Keys…” he muttered. “Keys…”

“They’re in your breast pocket,” Tess said rolling her eyes. She could see the bulge, but Alec could never remember where he put them. He drew them out as they drew to a stop.

The door to the dungeons was a concealed entrance. There were several entrances, but this was the one they normally used, it was the quickest journey from her father’s study. Alec fitted the key in the lock and the door swung open. He took Tess’s hand again. His fingers were warm and sticky but comforting as he led her on the journey into the dark, down the narrow spiral staircase.

They reached the bottom and there was a “hiss” as Alec lit a torch.

“Cheer up,” he said brightly, green eyes sparkling in the torchlight. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tess said. “I could be that girl in the story, what’s her name?”

“Cindy?”

“Yeah, her,” Tess said. Cindy was a piece of local folklore, a girl whose stepmother kept her locked away while her true love searched for her. It was what most of the villains focused on, there were night classes where they could study Cindy’s case in the marketplace of the city. Her father attended them. It was no wonder he was getting worse with his punishments.

“But you’re not Cindy. You’re Tess,” Alec said with a grin. “So you do have it far easier.”

Tess snorted. “That’s what you think. Ever shared a cell with Cecilia for three days?”

“I do believe that’s your job as her sister,” Alec said. They still had not progressed down the corridor, but they kept their voices quiet. Cecilia had heard them having an argument last time about food.

“I know,” Tess said with a sigh. “I can see myself in, if you give me the key to the cell.”

Alec took his keychain and with his teeth removed the oldest, rustiest one of the lot.

“Maybe I’ll make it down after dinner tonight,” he suggested.

“Don’t stress out,” Tess said quickly, feeling guilty for all her complaints. Alec was right, it was her job to do this like it was his job to serve her father.

Alec shrugged and gave her a mischievous smile. “I’d like to,” he said.

Tess sighed, unable to deny wanting his company. “I’ll see you then,” she said and ducked down, auburn curls swinging forwards in the process to kiss him on the cheek in thanks.

She saw the blood rise in Alec’s face as he turned to leave. Tess watched him go then turned and continued down the passage to her usual cell.

Over the past three years, her and Cecilia had added some personal touches. They had a sofa now, a glass vase for when somebody would send flowers, some of Cecilia’s watercolours (Tess couldn’t paint at all), and a little spindly table where they ate and, at the moment, a chessboard was set out on.

Cecilia was bent over it, her perfect golden ringlets hiding her face. “Oh, Tessa!” she said seeing her sister and ran over to embrace her. “Whatever are we to do?”

Tess surveyed Cecilia in her spotless fuchsia gown, butterfly pins in her hair, her face full of concern over their safety.

“You know what, Cecilia? You just sit here.”

Cecilia nodded as if she didn’t fully understand the plan. “Do you want to play a game?” she asked, indicating the chessboard.

Tess nodded and sat down. Cecilia always played as white and so she moved first, leaving Tess to her thoughts, which chiefly went along the lines of It can’t go on like this.

They were playing in silence before she voiced these aloud.

“Like what, Tessa?” Cecilia asked innocently.

“So clichéd. Our whole lives are a complete act, Cecilia. How haven’t you worked that out yet?”

Cecilia frowned. “What are you talking about, dearest Tessa?”

“Our lives. You and Dad and your whole fairytale thing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Cecilia said, sounding genuinely confused.

“Come on. No girl gets rescued every eight weeks, Cecilia. Come to think of it, I wonder why the knights keep risking their lives. Not by rescuing you, but agreeing to marry you is a death warrant.”

“None of them were my true love. My true love will survive,” Cecilia said calmly.

“Do you really think so?” Tess asked doubtfully. It was amazing how Cecilia believed that this was all true. How could anybody be so naïve? And yet Cecilia never once showed any signs of becoming bored or tired with the routine, or guilty at the deaths (Tess couldn’t quite work out how the killings were arranged, one was mauled by a dragon, another had a heart attack, another died of pneumonia), she just accepted it and went on as if it wasn’t odd in the slightest.

“Of course. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to kill my true love,” Cecilia said, and moved her queen forwards.

***

“Tess?” came the whisper through the bars that evening. Tess smiled as she saw Alec crouching outside. “Can I have my key back?” he asked.

She got up and walked over to him, handing him the key. Their fingers brushed. His hands were still warm, nice to touch after spending a few hours in the cold, damp cell.

“Cecilia’s asleep,” Tess whispered. “Alec, we need to talk.”

He pushed the door open and they crept over to the sofa. Cecilia was a heavy sleeper.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked, his voice full of concern.

“How does it work, Alec? The cliché, I mean. How does Cecilia attract it?”

Alec shrugged. “Nobody knows, Tess. She’s the youngest child of a noble family. It just does.”

“So why doesn’t it affect me?”

“Because you’re the eldest.”

Tess slouched. “I was thinking about all those knights who come to save her. The cliché is a cruel thing. It’s killing them off.”

“The cliché creates them too, though, Tess,” Alec said soothingly. “They only have one purpose, to find girls like your sister.”

“It’s horrible, Alec. But neither her nor Father notices it. Poor Father,” she said, a thought striking her. “He can’t help it either can he? He’s got to send us down here.”

Alec shrugged. “Parents agree to the cliché. Your father did.”

“But why?” Tess said. “It’s awful.”

“But in the end, Cecilia’s granted a happy marriage. It’s a deal that the Kingdom did with the fairy godmothers.”

“And what about us?” Tess asked. She could feel tears in her eyes. The thought that so many people’s lives were ruled by a destiny they couldn’t stop was awful.

“My parents agreed too. But my father died and my mother married again, so it’s my little stepbrother who gets the brunt of the cliché. My brother Gerry and I were sent off to work. Not that I’m complaining. Otherwise, I would have been the youngest and I would never have got here. I’d never have met you.” He gave a gurgling laugh. “Sorry,” he said. “I grew up for seven years as youngest child, things are going to be cheesy sometimes.”

Tess took his hand to warm hers and he gripped it hard.

“But what about… me?” she said, trying to meet his eye in the dark. “What happens to the eldest?”

Alec leant in and whispered in her ear, “They do whatever they feel like.”

Tess turned quickly and stared at him. Her eyes were adjusting and she could just about see the glint of emerald in his eyes. Sitting, they were nearly on the same level.

“Whatever I want?”

Alec nodded. “You know that we could run away together,” he said. At this point, Tess would usually tease him and send him away but now she listened. “Just you and me. Get out of The Kingdom, go somewhere where the cliché doesn’t affect us and just… live.”

Tess frowned as if the idea was wholly new. Of course she had thought about it before, but right now, it had never seemed so inviting.

“Just… you and me?” she asked. Alec nodded and took her other hand. “But what if we didn’t love each other like that?” she asked. It had to be asked, she still wasn’t entirely sure.

“Then we break up and go our separate ways. I’m not one to give ultimatums, Tess.”

She smiled. “Can I-?” she asked, and leant in towards him. Their lips met and Tess thought it felt right. It felt right to be with Alec and it would certainly feel right to get away from everything. To be average, to not be locked in a dungeon, to be somewhere that being ordinary didn’t mark you as the odd one out.

Just then the wall of the cell collapsed at its weakest point. Tess had come to the conclusion months before that all the knights used the same tunnel.

“Lady Cecilia?” hissed a voice.

“You’re early,” Tess whispered back. “She’s still asleep. Do you want a drink?” she asked, indicating the pitcher of water on the table.

“That’d be great,” he said, walking into the light and removing his helmet.

“Gerry?” Alec said flatly.

“Alec?”

Gerry was at least two heads taller than his brother, but his hair stuck up the same way. “Al, what are you doing here?”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Alec said, indicating Tess, who blushed and waved.

“And this isn’t the slightest bit cliché?” she asked Alec.

He shrugged. “I’m the biological youngest,” he said defensively.

“Listen,” Tess said, standing up and walking over to Gerry. “Don’t rescue my sister. You’ll die like all the others.” It was a speech she made to every knight, but none of them ever heeded her. Tess sighed. Nobody under the cliché ever stopped to think rationally.

“No, Tess,” Alec said. “The cliché’s working. This is my brother. Do you think that just happens by chance?”

Tess began calculating in her head and bit her lip. “No,” she said, and warmth spread throughout her body. “No! Alec, this is it! It’s the cliché working! Cecilia’s found her true love!” She hugged Alec, lifting him off his feet.

“We don’t have any more obligations,” Alec said. “We could go?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Tess cleared her throat. “Gerry, where does that tunnel lead? How far from the borders of The Kingdom?”

“Only about twenty miles away, to my estate, why?”

Alec shook hands with his brother. “It was nice seeing you.”

Gerry frowned slowly. “Where are you two going?”

Tess felt a smile spread over her face. “Away,” she said simply.

Gerry’s eyes flicked from one to the other. “But Alec isn’t a knight, how does he get the girl?”

Tess grinned.

“I’m not the girl. I’m just a girl. An ordinary one.” She grasped Alec’s hand and he gave her his signature grin, eyes sparkling.

“We’ll see you at the wedding, Gerry,” he said and Tess felt his hand squeeze hers.

And they ran. Through the tunnel for hours and hours and then out into Gerry’s estate. Through the trees inhabited by talking animals and witches’ houses until at last, the grass became less green and the air was not thick with fairy dust.

Tess kissed Alec again, and thinking of all the books she had ever read, tried to discern what he tasted like. But it wasn’t hope, or tomorrows or new beginnings. It was ordinary. And spectacular.

Tess smiled and, with his hand in hers, walked out of the weird and wondrous world and into something far more exciting.

Normality.

***

AN: this is very random, I know! Thoughts, comments, anything?