#and it’s known for having thousands of little shark teeth just scattered around

[sri-rachaa]

I found a shark tooth :)

[antichristsxbox]

Knight in Shining Armor

Summary: You’re a princess— locked away in a tower, under a sleeping spell, waiting for a brave suitor to come rouse you from your slumber. Luckily, Sir Michael Langdon has come to the rescue. 

From the writer: Hey guys, I’m so excited about this! I think there’s going to be a few more parts to this, so stay tuned and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list. Big shoutout to @jocelynscloset​​ for proofreading this for me! Also, if you like this, be sure to check out my masterlist here! <3 Update— here’s part two, here’s part three, and here’s part four + here’s my masterlist with more fics!

Word count: 2,404

Background knowledge in italics:

A princess blessed with the gift of the Light, as it is known. To be able to conjure up power from the good, almost like a wizard of the time. A scary gift, sure, but a gift nonetheless. It must be a recessive trait, as nobody else in the family has been touched by the Light thus far. As your powers grew with you, you turned from a whimsical girl to a seemingly omnipotent woman. Whispers became less hushed around the castle as doors would open with no servants, candles would light with no match, and books would become loose from top shelves with no ladder. The King and Queen, your parents, have decided it is best for you to wait for one of your own power to suit you. ‘Only the best, or better, for our princess,’ their words replayed in your mind. A tower was built with barriers only a skilled knight could make it through alive. It seems irrelevant, though, that you would have liked to stay awake. As you were lead to the tower, you were apprehensive, but excited for when you would soon be roused, if ever. 

Soft rays cascade through thin curtains to fall on bedsheets. A faint chirp! chirp! chirp! of the birds from outside can be heard. As you lift your head to see who has come, nobody more perfect could be thought of. This is not a figment of your imagination. Bright, blue eyes that energize you more the longer you look— soft, long, blonde hair that hangs a little past his shoulders, right above his silver, gleaming armor. 

How long it has been, you cannot tell. Your parents had you put up and locked away for your own safety. Your conjuring abilities had been far too much for them to handle. As powers grew, so did the desire to use them. Such a convenience to have, and a waste to not use, you thought. Now, that urge has subsided, all due to the happiness you were feeling that somebody had finally come to save you. A loving kiss was all it took to break the spell. Although it was a one-sided love for now, a warm feeling began again in your chest. The suitor must have made it through the traps and misleadings that lead up to your room— the highest room in the tallest tower. The tallest tower guarded by a moat full of fish, bigger than the great, big whale that swallowed Jonah, your father said. Top floors of the tower protected by a dog-beast of three heads and enormous size, and misleading staircases that would send the adventurer falling down thousands of feet if one wrong step was taken. 

“Are you here to save me?” you ask, sitting up and glancing at the mirror in your bedside table. A repressed memory tells you that you never looked like this before, not even entering the castle. A gold crown sits atop your head, three rubies, each in the middle of their own peak, the biggest gem sitting in the center. Red fabric falling from your arms as you reach up to touch the cold metal. 

“Yes, Princess,” he says, guiding your fingers from your crown into his warm grasp to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand. As you fully sit up, you swing your legs to the edge of your bed and stand. 

“Who is my suitor?” you ask, reaching for a gold pitcher and a crystal glass. Flowing from the top with ease is your first drink since probably five years. Clear liquid passes your lips and beads on your top lip, and you rub your lips together to rid them of the excess, then turn to the man behind you. 

He is now standing, at least six feet tall it seems. A very impressive, strong knight. A long sword hangs down from his belt, leading your eye to his gleaming, black boots. His hand makes its way to your shoulder, glistening in the sunlight. Wrist so reflective, it’s aggressive for a little clock. Diamonds glisten, light shining in through your arched window. 

“Sir Michael Langdon,” he says, kneeling before you and releasing his sword from its sheath, cling! The long strip of metal lies in his two hands as his head is bowed towards you. As you place your glass down, a finger of yours makes its way to the bottom of his chin, tipping his head up. Azure is all you can see, eyes almost as beaming as his armor in this sunlight. The warmth of his body being a now-familiar feeling, and a welcome reminder that you are, in fact, awake now. 

Sir Langdon stands again as you release your touch from his face. 

As you know, Michael is likely here to rescue, then marry you. He seems like a fine man, although you had only just met him. If he leaves without you, you are stuck here, now awake and with little water and food to sustain yourself with. The spell had been broken, and it seems nearly impossible for you to replicate it yourself. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you toy with the idea or running off with Michael and never returning. How would your family know that you’ve been saved? Do they come to check up on you often? The barriers set seem near impossible to sneak past and still leave intact. 

“Come with me, Princess, your kingdom is so eager to meet you,” he says, offering an arm for you to grasp. 

“Do you not wish to know who it is you are leading?” you say, taking a small step back and offering a small smile.

“My apologies, Princess, what is your name?” he says, now holding his hands clasped behind his back, posture straightening up in anticipation of an answer. 

“Lady Abigail of Minnesott,” you say, softly reminiscing of your home before the tower. A river ran down behind your castle, and an open field before it. Wild deer, turkey, and mustangs all present in the temperate, deciduous forest around your home. Oh, how the leaves would turn in autumn. How sharks teeth and pottery fragments were readily available as the tide drew in, when you pursued the river bank searching for lost treasures. You could only hope for a place as beautiful, wherever Michael would take you. 

“A beautiful woman of a beautiful land,” he says, offering his arm again. Warm metal is a refreshing sensation across your fingertips, and Michael leads you down the staircase. With horror, you witness the scattered bones of at least ten men, splayed across the floor beneath you, piled up near where the dog-beast once resided. Dried-up blood stains and gore were on display across the walls, the only other artwork here besides the oil on panel of your family, safely tucked away in your room. 

Past the slain dog-beast, for it was not just a creature of your father’s dreams. Across the long bridge of the moat, above the murky waters. Shadows of large fish and glimmering of large scales suggest that one of those creatures may still hold Jonah captive.

Out on a post was a dark horse, secured with a rope skillfully tied. One pull, and the rope is free of its tangles. A firm hand grasps your waist as you mount the horse, but hands are careful to travel no further south. A true gentleman, you must remark in your mind. As Michael mounts the horse in the seat in front of you, one swift kick is all it takes before the four feet under you are trotting, then running. A small jingling noise is coming from the seams of your dress, and a quick investigation is needed before you determine that a compass is in the pocket of your dress. One small glance down, and you realize that the horse is taking you south rather than North.

“Should we not be headed toward Vandemere?” you ask, a somewhat urgent tone in your voice.

“My kingdom is south, Princess, near Havelock and towards the Croatan Forest,” he says, a stern look in his face as he scans the path ahead. As Michael seems to know where he is going, your worries are washed away. Your sense of direction may have been put on hold during your deep slumber, but it is back now, and perhaps stronger than it was before. 

The forgotten feeling of tiredness washes over you, and before long, your grasp on Michael loosens enough so you could relax, but you’re still steady while he’s riding horseback— you lean in to drift off on his shoulder, warm metal and all. When you wake, it is now dark outside, and the horse has stopped running, but it now simply slow-trotting through a forest. A few more minutes through the dark forest, and Michael beckons the horse to stop. He is now dismounting his ride and tying up on a tree branch.

“Stay here, Princess, I must go search for a landmark on our way,” he says, walking off. You pull out your compass once more, only to realize that the arrow will not point anywhere besides south, no matter where you turn. 

“Are we more towards Trent, or Pollocksville?” you ask, but Michael is already into the woods before you even began to speak.

Ears alert and ready to pick up on any cues as to where Michael is. Not a chirp! from a bird, not a crackle! from skimming the side of a bush, not a swoosh! as his feed passed over the ground. Only visual cues left to guide you towards him— if you choose to go and venture— even the stars being hard to see through the thick foliage. 

“Princess!”

Your heart skips a beat as Michael shouts. Your leg swings over the saddle so you’re sitting atop the horse, then you carefully slide down, using the stirrup as a guide as to where to place your feet. It is only then you realize how fatigued you are, running on barely any water and no food since years ago, probably. 

“Sir Langdon, I’m following your voice!” you shout, heading the direction his initial call came from. Step by step, you make your way on the dusty ground. There is no path, no landmark presenting itself yet. Only the memory of which way his voice had come from. It is now colder than you remember it being at night, although this could just be due to being farther inland— no body of water acting as a heat sink during the day, then releasing heat through the night. 

Leaves crunch! under your feet as you begin walking faster. The darkness tends to disorient you. Faint outlines of trees begin to grow and shrink as you walk further. Turn around and you’ll see nothing, only the night’s dark blanket, engulfing the sky and almost everything around you. 

“Are you alright?” a faint voice causes you to turn around, and you find Michael waiting for you by a strange stump, it seems like. As you walk closer, you realize it is a ring of mushrooms, leading down to what seems to be a small cavern, only there is no other demarcation other than the ring of mushrooms to warn any passerby of this dip in the road. Walking closer, you see it is actually a well, as the inside is even darker than the ground surrounding it, and the edges are a perfectly symmetrical circle. Very strange, you thought, but perhaps Michael would like to stop for the night and continue the long journey tomorrow. 

“Could we draw up some water?” you ask, looking towards the well, but not daring to step any closer than four feet. The last thing you would like is to be a victim in another situation where you would be in need of rescuing. 

“Of course, Princess,” Michael says, stepping closer towards you and taking your cold hand in his warm one. As his fingers travel up your arm and toward your jawline, you shudder at the sensation and move back. He begins to lean closer, with his still-warm armor grazing your front. He takes another step forward to move into you closer and brings his arms around you protectively. A small shuffle in your direction from him has his warm face nuzzled between your shoulder and neck. 

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he says, voice muffled from his face being buried in your dress. You step back to look at his face, although you can barely see a thing in the overwhelming darkness of the night. It is very hard to trust a man you had only met earlier today, and you would only have to see with time if Michael could hold up to this. 

Creeping in from the back of your mind, a very fatiguing sensation begins to wash over you once more. You feel wobbly almost, and contemplate just falling asleep then and there, your dress is thick enough to keep you warm through the night, and it seems as if Michael wouldn’t let you lie down alone. Michael then removes his face from your shoulder, and the cold air is again exposed due to your low neckline. His thumb rests on your top lip before his hand is entirely pulled away, moving towards your chest. It doesn’t take much to move you, and you almost melt at his lively touch.

“Forgive me, Princess,” he says. Without any time for you to question what he is asking forgiveness for, your fatigue has gotten the better of you. In perfect timing for Michael, a small jostle is all it takes for him to send you down the well. Unbeknownst to you, Michael had you exactly where he wanted you, luring you towards the secret Hellmouth. 

Information on ring of mushrooms mentioned:

Fairy rings are acknowledged to have otherworldly powers or be connected with dark forces, according to various folklore tales. They have a mythical reputation of fairies or supernatural creatures being present around the rings— there are many warnings of the dangers of entering a fairy ring throughout different stories. Many sources warn of fairy rings being created by shooting stars, lightning strikes, or the work of witches. Some even say entering a fairy ring can lead to certain doom. 

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Tag list: @langdonsoceaneyes​ @ms-mead​ @daydreamingofcody​ @psychobitchtess​ @swampwitchh13​