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Thieves, Heroes and a Princess

Chapter I

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This story begins with once upon a time, as all great stories do. Like many other tales that begin with this phrase, this one leads us on a path of magic, enchantment, and romance. It sets us upon a quest of mystery, adventure and danger. It tells the tale of what was lost, what was found and what was always there. We will hear a tale of true love, and of true loss.

Our setting is that of many fairytales; a grand palace on the night of a grand ball. Every important person in the country was there, all the dukes, lords and ladies. Wealthy merchants, priests and religious figures. All gathered at the Montez palace for a celebration of the Winter Solstice. It was the calm before the storm, as for many years now, the country was at war with it’s neighbors, and said war was coming to a head. Everyone wanted at their land and they refused to give it up. It was a tricky scenario, one that caused much grief and bloodshed and there were rumors that an attack on the monarchy was going to be happening soon.

But as with every rumor, the people ignored it and instead, took to wine and food instead of pro-caution and planning. The ball went on and people dolled themselves up, roguing their cheeks and bringing out the music.

Which brings us to the young boy at the ball, standing by the cradle at the front of the room. He looked over the side of the cradle curiously, scrunching his nose in confusion. Nestled in the silk sheets was a baby girl, only but a few months old. Her skin was light and pink, her head covered with dark wisps of curly hair and her eyes big and brown. She gurgled, bubbles forming at her mouth and he frowned.

“Mama,” said the boy in an annoyed tone. He pointed a chubby finger at the little girl, “it’s s’a baby.”

His mother laughed and crouched down, placing her hands on his shoulders. “That’s right, Troy,” she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek, “that’s a baby. Do you know her name?”

Three-year old Troy shook his head, his soft brown hair falling over his eyes. He peered over at the baby again, noticing how tiny she was. He bit his lip, and looked at his mother. “What’s s’her ‘ame?”

“Her name,” his mother said slowly, “is Gabriella. Can you say Gabriella?”

“Gaberwella,” Troy said, furrowing his brow in concentration. Lucille Bolton laughed.

The wife of a very wealthy merchant, Lucille sometimes felt out of place at the Montez palace, but the strong friendship her husband maintained with the King said otherwise. She was always welcome each time she stepped foot inside, as were her husband and son. Despite this, however, she was more than surprised when the Queen Maria came to her after the birth of her first, and likely only, daughter, Gabriella, with an interesting proposal.

And a proposal it was indeed.

“What if our children were to wed?” Maria had asked, “Troy is a darling boy, a more than proper suitor for Gabriella, especially given that we are at war with the majority of the neighboring countries. I think it would be a fine match.”

Lucille had not much time to consider the offer; who in their right mind would deny a Queen what she wanted? Still it was her son, she had to think of what was right for him. Yet as time went on, she took it for the honor that it was and the idea of him marrying into royalty was one she could not readily refuse. It was the ideal, he would be taken care of, could be taken care of and though the thought of her son being in charge of a country terrified her, she was certain that as time went on, he’d be up for the challenge.

So she accepted.

Gabriella Montez had been born only four months ago and this was the first time the babe and her future husband would meet. Troy however, didn’t seem impressed, and neither did Gabriella for that matter.

“She’s borin’!” Troy proclaimed and Lucille laughed again. “She can’t even pl-hay!”

Stroking his hair, she looked over at Gabriella. She was an awfully pretty child, and Lucille was fairly certain that she’d grow to be a beautiful young woman. “Oh, Troy, she’s still little! Give her sometime, she can’t even walk yet!”

Troy pursed his lips and folded his arms. “Borin’!”

Rolling her eyes at her son’s stubborn nature, Lucille pushed her son forward. “Troy, why don’t you give Gabriella her present? You know, the very special one I told you to give to her? This was your very special duty.”

Stiffening, he nodded. It was a very, very important job, after all. His father had stressed this importance earlier in the day, saying that it was crucial he deliver the present correctly and well. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a simple gold chain which sparkled in the light. Upon it lay a small gold heart, a vine like design on it’s surface, and in the middle embedded in the metal was a tiny white diamond. He swallowed and turned to his mother anxiously.

“Go on,” she said with a smile. Beside her had appeared Maria Montez in a rich, ruby gown, her black hair piled high on her head. She, too, smiled encouragingly at the young boy, and he stepped forward and dangled the necklace over baby Gabriella’s head.

“Here’s you prewsent,” he said sweetly and Gabriella looked up at him with her big eyes and clapped her hands happily, squealing as she watched the diamond catch the light. Despite himself and his confusion as to why one small little baby was so special, Troy smiled, too.

“She likes s’it, Mama!” he proclaimed, turning over his shoulder to grin at her. Lucile smiled back fondly and Maria clasped her hands to her chest.

“Oh, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she said happily. “The beginnings of new love. I really, really home they are keen with each other as the years go on.”

Lucille nodded. “Hoping is all we can do, after all. If they are very much against the idea when Gabriella turns eighteen, then we’ll have to go back on the agreement.”

“Precisely,” Maria said, “I don’t want to force them into something they’re vehemently opposed to, but we will make sure they grow up together, to get used to the idea of the betrothal. I must admit, though, it would be regrettable if we were to retract on the engagement.”

“This is true,” Lucille said with a sigh. She couldn’t deny that it would reflect poorly on all of them if the engagement were to not work out.

Maria looked tired, older than her thirty years then. “It’s just...given our...political circumstances at the moment, a union with people in such high social standings as you and Jack would work in our favor. It wouldn’t be uniting two countries, but it may in fact be better. Show that we care for our citizens as much as our own blood.”

Bristling slightly, Lucille didn’t respond. She knew that Maria only meant that to be complimentary, and in the end, what she said was true. It would do a great deal of good for the both of them. Still, a part of her felt used.

“But most of all, if Troy turns out to be anything like you and Jack,” Maria trailed off, “then Gabriella would be more than lucky to have him for a husband.”

Flushing, Lucille realized how genuine her words were, and took back her previous thoughts. She smiled at Maria and patted her hand. “The same goes for you and Gabriella.”

Maria squeezed Lucille’s hands. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to be going. Need to mingle with some of the other guests. We’ll talk later, yes?”

Nodding, Lucille watched Maria depart before turning back to Troy and Gabriella. Troy was still holding the necklace and Gabriella was still looking at him in wonderment.

“When you’s older,” Troy was babbling, “you can wears this necklwace. I’s boughted it just for you.”

Gabriella squealed again and Lucille felt her heart soar at the satisfied smile on Troy’s face. Maybe this would all turn out for the best in the end.

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the palace. Yelling and shouting were heard, a scream came from the entrance near the doors and pandemonium broke out. The palace was under attacked.

Guest scrambled in every direction, running for their lives. Gun shots went off as darkly cloaked men came from all sides, some grabbing people and throwing them over their shoulders as hostages. Lucille Bolton froze, momentarily paralyzed. What was happening? What was she to do?

As one of the men set fire to a part of the palace, she grabbed her son by the wrist and yanked him up into her arms. She glanced at Gabriella, debating on whether to take the few steps backward and take her as well, but her mind was screaming at her to take her son and get out of there. Where was Maria? Why was she not here to protect her daughter? Lucille hesitated again, taking the smallest step towards the cradle before hearing her son begin to cry. She needed to leave.

So she did. She turned in the other direction and prayed to heaven above that someone would take the small child to safety. If she were to live and Gabriella didn’t, she would never forgive herself.

She ran faster than she thought possible, which was difficult given the fact that with every step, her son felt heavier in her arms. She held him tighter and picked up the pace, determined to get to safety.

She tripped, falling to the ground, Troy rolling out of her arms. She whacked her head off of the ground and felt the room begin to spin. She looked up at her son who was staring at her with wide, teary eyes.

“Mama?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Run, Troy!” she yelled, “Run, keep running! Don’t stop!” She felt her heart pound as she watched him turn and run as fast as his little legs would carry him. She could only hope to God that something, someone out there would keep him safe.

In the moments before she blacked out, she saw Maria Montez hover over the cradle before being shot in the back. A cloaked figure advanced over the cradle and then someone hit Lucille sharply on the back of the head, and she fell to darkness.

That night was a night of terror, a night of death and a night of darkness. Hundreds were brutally murdered and the rest were thrown into jail or held hostage. The country was in ruins, it’s monarchy murdered. Their bodies, along with, Lucille Bolton and her husband, Jack’s, were one of the many uncovered at the palace. The magic, the luster and the happiness that surrounded it was now gone.

Troy Bolton was found shivering by a small fire outside only fifty feet away from the palace by police the next day. He was taken to an orphanage and that was where he stayed until he turned eighteen.

The body of Princess Gabriella, however, was never found, but after nearly a year of searching and several hefty rewards issued by her extended family in another country, she was assumed to be dead.

Or so the people thought.

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LET ME LIST THE PEOPLE YOU CAN BLAME FOR THIS.

There was Tiffany, Silvia and Kerry, whom when I randomly said on my LJ, hey, I wanna write a T&G version of Anastasia, that animated movie, they were all like, DO IT.

Then there was Nel and Kirsten from FF, who were discussing fairytales and caused me to bring this up. They were all, DO IT and then they convinced me.

SO HERE IT IS. This fic is based on Fox’s animated movie Anastasia and I am sorry, but it probably won’t be filled with any ground breaking originality. I am putting my own spin on it, of course, and it will probably differ greatly from the film, but I am writing this purely for fun. Next month I plan to venture on an epic fic, so this will help me escape from it when need be.

THAT SAID: I plan to update this one every Monday without fail. So look for that. Also, no soundtrack. I may change this in the future, but this is so spur of the moment, I don’t even have a banner for it yet.

PEACE.