Title: The Jester King
Author:Vera
Rated: PG
Summary: In a small kingdom, blood is spilled, a king flees and a legend is forged. AU.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money made.
Feedback: Adored and cherished. tarrotcat@aol.com
Archive:  Just let me know.
Author Note: It came. It stuck. It refused to leave. Most vicious plot bunny ever.

Many years ago when all of Europe was a multitude of shifting borders and strange magics, there lay a particular kingdom. It was fairly small as kingdom's go and was ruled by a fair and just king named Albus. For decades, Albus had ruled with a fair and jolly hand. After so long, the most resilient of men might begin to tire and thus it was with King Albus.

On the day when he decided to call his advisors and his wife, Queen Minerva to him for the announcement of his abdication, his son was facing down his fencing master.

"Your legs are spindly and your arms appear to be but reeds, lad." The great man wheezed. "Yet, you have bested me every day this month with as much ease as if I were the weakling."

The Prince saluted with the faintest of smiles. From the side lines, Lord Sirius of the Lowlands watched with glittering eyes. The Prince had always irked the young Lord. He found the Heir to be arrogant and filled with silly notions of magic. 

"Would he take a competitor in a real fight, Master Fencer?" Lord Sirius drawled from the fence.

"Aye, lord." A brief flicker of patronization flashed across the Master's face. The Lord glowered.

"Then let us see it.  Would you take me to first blood, Prince?" He sketched a mocking bow, ignoring the gasp of the Master and his apprentice. To even threaten to draw the blood of a royal was the most deplorable show of manners. The Prince himself did not flinch. 

"If you wish."

"Oh, but I do wish." He spat venomously. "Draw your sword."

Even worse...to command a royal! Again the Prince took no notice and with careful deliberation, set aside the enchanted blade he had been wielding and took up one of the apprentice's blade.

"You mean to fight with that battered chunk of metal?" Lord Sirius scoffed.  The Prince said nothing, only assuming the ready position.  In deliberate mockery, Lord Sirius copied him.  The Lord had no fear. He had been winning sword fights in every public arena for three years.  The Prince trained with a washed up Master and his half-trained apprentice.

They circled each other, in patient measuring steps.  It was Lord Sirius' patience who broke first and he took a careful, testing lunge. The speed the Prince responded with astounded him, but he pressed on. Careful teasing strokes, on both their parts that grew in speed and strength until it seemed they might be evenly matched.

Then the Prince....yawned. It was discreet, it was small, but it infuriated Lord Sirius. His blade struck hard, but wild.  With a flick of his wrist, the Prince disarmed him and sent him sprawling into the dust. Deliberately, he held the sword to his throat and nicked the Lord's exposed collarbone only hard enough to draw a single drop of blood. 

"Happy?" The Lord growled. "You have made a fool of me."

"Fools make themselves, Lord." The Prince said mildly. He turned, handed the battered blade back to its flabbergasted owner and walked into the castle.  For a long moment, Lord Sirius sat in the dirt, steaming with anger. 

"That was an ill idea, my Lord." The Master said softly. "I would be leavin' him alone, if I were you."

"And why is that?" Ground out the irate aristocrat.

"He'll be your king soon enough."

"King Albus has years left in him. Long enough for the Prince to forget all about this."

"Perhaps...but the Prince..he's got a long memory. If yah take my meaning."

Before Sirius could reply, the Master walked off and a very harried looking herald came rushing up.

"There you are! King Albus has had people searching the castle for you. My lord, the King would call you for an audience." 

"I come, I come." He rose and dusted off his fine clothes. "Lead the way."

As Lord Sirius slipped into his place at the right hand of the throne, he quietly greeted Lord James of the Dry Country and closest friend.  King Albus smiled gently upon them all and spoke in his comforting, avuncular manner.

"My friends and family, who have all been so kind to me these long years! I gathered you now, to ask a boon of you. I have served this land for a long time and while the time has passed quickly and with as many days of laughter as those with tears, I find myself growing very weary. I am ready to step down and enjoy my old age. It is time for the Prince to ascend to the throne. What I ask of you, is that you allow me to abdicate to my son."
 

Silence greeted the pronouncement. It was no request, even if it was so worded. The King had the right to give up the crown whenever he wished. It wasn't a regular occurrence, but it was known to happen. The Prince stood, tight lipped and hands clenched behind his back.  Eventually, those in the audience began to speak and it was for plans of coronation.

Thus the Prince became the king and the people waited to see what type of man he would be for at the time he was only seventeen and one only knows what children will do with power. On the first day after his coronation, he donned the kingly robes that had been passed down from his father and his father's father and that were all the colors of the sun and set out to tour the lands he now ruled.

Eagerly, the people gathered as the carriage set forth and all over the land, people through open their windows and doors to better watch the progression. Everything went as planned until the carriage reached the farther outskirts of the country where none had ever seen the King before.

They were all shocked as the carriage drew by and their first glimpse of the new monarch set it. With perfect posture, the stick thin King made his fine rich robes look like motley. A sharp beak like nose cut through his face and his black hair was like a thin curtain of pure darkness. Two beetly eyes were sunk deep into pale skin.

"A jester! Our king is as jester!" The outcry went out as the carriage past. Those who were too loud were quieted by their neighbors and the King was thought to have heard none of it. Years of silence made ears keener and eyes brighter then any one suspected.

Still, a king was a king and over the next three years, he proved himself to be wise and just, implementing better road plans and sending away for fine new irrigation systems that were said to be Roman in origin. The people forgot their momentary discontent. Of course in private, they still referred to him as the Jester King.


Not everyone was as settled, of course. The advisors to the king, for it so often these men who sit so close to power yet cannot quite have in their grasp that become mean and corrupt, found him to be to harsh and quick to anger. He often ignored their sound advice and would not consult them in large varieties of heavy decisions.


Among them, the most discontent was Lord Sirius of the Lowlands. He tried to prod Lord James into a similar state of unfiltered rage, but to no avail.  It was well known that the Lord of the Dry Country was the nephew of Old King Albus and stood to inherit should the new King die with heirs.  Any sign of him even potentially plotting the King's downfall would mean a short walk to the executioner's ax.

That is not to say that Lord James was particularly fond of the new King, but he had no passion to rule himself and often was heard telling Lord Sirius to keep his council and refrain from meddling in things he did not understand. But Lord Sirius persisted.

Perhaps nothing would have come of it at all, if the Lord's cousin had not become inflicted with a most dread curse of lyconthropy. The infected lad was a favorite in the King's court and even the monarch himself doted on him, but none outside Lord Sirius, Lord James and their squire Peter knew of the lad's affliction.

It would be easy enough to lure the unsuspecting King into the tender mercies of the wolf's jaw then dispose of all evidence later. After all, did not everyone know that their King preferred to walk in the night then under the blessed sun? Surely the plan had no fault.


Lord Sirius made only one miscalculation and that was to inform Lord James of his plan, only hours before he intended to play it out. Fraught with worry and concern for the lad, Remus and his friend Lord Sirius' head should he be caught at this most foul of games that the Lord James ran to the King and told him what the advisor had planned for him.


For a long time the King did not stir after James had finished. Finally, with disconcerting speed, he rose from his somber throne to gather up strange and foul smelling vials. His fingers lingered long over his sword, a beautiful piece that would glow white hot in battle, blinding the enemy. Finally, he belted the sheath around his waist. It was the King's sword and by all rights should remain in the kingdom, but none had wielded it for many generations. At last, he turned his black eyes onto Lord James.


"It is too dangerous for me here to rule, for I value my life far beyond power that accidental birth has given me. My future has always been unclear to the soothsayers and fortune tellers and I see now that was because they read for a King and I am none of that. After I dispatch of tonight's mischief, I will seek my living outside of this kingdom. You will not reign, I know you do not wish it with your Lady already fat with child and lands to be surveyed. No, tell my father to take up the mantle again for he has many years yet left in him."


The Lord James entreated the King to listen to reason, but he would have none of it and soon they sat in silence, Lord James in the shadows, the dark King on his throne until Lord Sirius approached to wheedle the great monarch from his perch out into the forest.


The King followed, but when the great wolf would have set upon him and torn his throat out, he flung one of the vials at him. The wolf collapsed and fell to the ground in a dead faint, before shimmering and becoming young Remus again.


"Thus he is cured of his affliction which I would have eased had you told me." The King spoke turning onto Lord Sirius. " Not only have you proved a weak and unworthy foe, but a dangerous and untrustworthy friend. Perhaps living like one who is loyal will teach you." With that, the King hurled another vial and when the smoke cleared, Lord Sirius was gone, leaving a large black dog with sad yellow eyes in his place. "Watch over Lord James, the Lady Lily and their child. Be as loyal to them as disloyal as you were to me and your kin. When the child has grown to maturity and if he loves you well enough then perhaps someone will seek me out to unleash from this shape, for it is only I who can do so. And now, I depart for this have shown me my error in thinking. I cannot rule the lands of a people who mock me and seek to unthrone me while I do nothing, but attempt to fix and enlighten."


With that the King was gone, leaving only the dog and the wakening boy to take the tale to Lord James, the Queen and once more King, Albus.

After only a few days of wandering, the king came upon a river and here he bent down and washed his face and drank of it's sweetness. When he was refreshed, he happened to glance up and across the bank laid eyes on a most fierce and deadly wyrm. Spanning thirty feet in length, wings like silk wrapped tight across his back and an improbably long tail, the wrym was formidable indeed. The proud thing's scales gleamed a pearly white and it's one open eye was the color of the sea right before a most terrible storm.

"Greetings, most great and gracious King of all the Sky." The King said solemnly. The wrym blinked slowly.

"And greetings to you who was once a great King, but now humbles himself like a common traveler. I have heard much news of you and awaited your coming."

"I am not longer what I once was, I have little to offer one so magnificent as you." And the wyrm knew the King was ripe for the taking. The dark man was enthralled with the wyrm's majesty and thought himself to be most unwanted by his people. The wyrm gave rictus grin.

"Then come with me if you are no longer a king and become a follower of a king whose greatness is matched only by the Great Lord of Us all."
As the wyrm spoke, the very land opened below them and a deep darkness rose to swallow up the King. Only the pearly glow of the wyrm's scales gave off any light and with fear, the King did follow the wyrm into the Darkness where a great many horrors befell him and he was the servant to the Lord of the Dark, who would not release him though he performed deed after fabulous deed and provided many wonders.


At last, he rose from the ground in a terrible escape with the very get of Cerberus nipping at his heels. Only when he had gone many miles from where he had left, did he feel it was safe to sink into the grass and rest his weary head. Nearly ten years had passed since he had seen the light of day and he felt humbled by the sun's blessing. Tears of pain came to his eyes and he felt that Sol had become too bright, he too tainted to enjoy it's warmth. He crawled to the riverbed and regarded himself in the flowing water.


The darkness had not been kind to the weary King. His once pale skin had become sallow and yellowed. His hair, always limp and thin was now greasy and hung in ugly clumps. Small lines crinkled at his eyes and his proud posture had slumped. Disgusted, he pulled his hood far over his face and resolved that no one should lay eyes on his terrible visage ever again. It must be remembered when one thinks of such resolve that the King was still only twenty-nine and had spent the remainder of his youth in darkness so that his mind was still that of the twenty year old who had gone into the pit. Not far from the melancholy ruler the people had so feared.
 

Meanwhile back in the kingdom where Albus once more sat upon the throne, all were in deep mourning. The Lord James and Lady Lily had been struck down by a dark force, leaving their son Harry as the Heir Apparent to the throne, but with no more family then his huge black dog, whom was also his godfather.


Albus insisted that the boy begin training to be king at once, despite that he still wore mourning clothes and put ashes on his face twice a day. When Harry heard of this, the young boy wept with despair. He did not wish to become king and in his fury his rubbed the ashes with far to much vigor. In some strange magic his skin opened and took in the blackness of the ash until it left an indelible mark of a lightening strike on his forehead, a permanent sign of his grief.


Albus, though he did feel terribly for the boy, forced him to take up his books and his dancing lessons. His two teachers, Lady Hermione for deportment and etiquette and the squire, Ronald for horsemanship and chivalry were demanding, but fair. The Squire pinned for the lady and if Harry said just the right thing, he could get out of the lessons by playing them against each other. When they were having an all mighty row, he would sneak off with Sirius and the two would hunt rabbits until dinner.


Just as the Jester King pulled his cloak tightly around him to hide his face, Harry took his first step in ascending the throne. Over the years, the deposed king wandered, selling his skills as a magician and healer as Harry learned all manner of things and grew more and more to hate the idea of becoming king. And even still, the darkness grew, an unnamed threat in both their minds.


Finally, there came the day that Harry turned sixteen and the King came to him and asked him when he would like the coronation date to be set.


"Oh, uncle!" Harry cried, for he had long anticipated this request and had made the most excellent plan to delay it. " How can I be king when my most trusted advisor languishes under the spell set by your very son! It is customary for Princes to do great deeds before they are crowned and I do not think it would be a very big quest at all."


"Many have searched for my son and failed, Harry. What have you that they did not?"


"Why, I have Sirius!" Said the young prince as if it was all very obvious and tedious. "He remembers your son's scent even after all these long years and that night he followed it a great distance, before he returned. We will go from that place and search on and when we find him and he changes Sirius back, only then can I be king."


Reluctantly, Albus agreed, seeing how firm Harry was and how pathetic his once great advisor now was with his tongue hanging out over his fringed gums. That very day the Prince set out on his favorite horse with many supplies and Sirius running on beside him, on occasion dashing into this or that bush to scare out a rabbit or pheasant.

All and all they had a very pleasant time of it for several days and nights until they at last arrived at the stream where Sirius had traced the scent to. As they investigated the area, a loud crash came from the trees.

"En garde, foul knight!" Shrieked the invader. "I challenge thee for your life!"

At last appeared what Harry guessed was a very young wyrm. The beast was short for it's kind, barely six feet in length and its' wings only fifteen feet across. Its' eyes were silver, but blinked rapidly and only the faintest whiff of smoke came from his nose.

"Give me a moment, fair beast to arm myself, lest it be said you do not fight fair battles." The wyrm shrugged and waited while Harry fished in his bag for a sword and his shield.

"All right, have at thee!"

Despite the wyrm's size, the battle raged for nearly an hour. It was quick as a weasel and twice as slick, but in the end Harry pinned it to the ground and would have sliced it's throat had it not screamed.

"Mercy! Mercy... do not slay me for I fought you only for the meat you had or to meet my doom, but now that it has come to it, I would rather live in shame then die with honor. I have come a long way, in flight from my sire who seeks to kill me for turning on our lord."

"What lord is that? For it is King Albus who rules these lands."

Here the wyrm did quiver with laughter.

"He rules only the land which is seen, the dark and deep is still watched over by a far more ancient and demanding lord who will not be unseated. But still I would not sit by his side for he wishes to herald the end of all the world and I like the green grass and sweet water far too much for that."

Harry stared thoughtfully on his enemy and finally said,

"I do not trust you for your type are filled with tricks and clever traps, but I will not leave you for your father to pick apart your corpse. If you travel with me and resolve to harm neither myself, my dog or any who I call friend and protect us then I will guard you from your father and this dread lord as best I can."

Upon hearing this, the wyrm did nod vigorously and swear upon it's own living heart that it would do this and the deal was struck between them. When all was settled and the Prince had fed the wyrm it's fill in meat, it asked,

"What quest are you so bent on?"

"I seek the one known only now as the Jester King, whose name is lost to me. After his disappearance no one dared utter it. He holds my godfather in a hard and fast spell that no other magician can break."

"Tall man, dark hair and dark eyes with a tremendous nose?" The wyrm asked.

"Yes, that is his description more or less."

"There was a stranger that did come to our land when I was still but a babe and he did match such a description and though he is long since left, I can guide you to the place where he was last spotted. That was nearly seven years ago, but perhaps there is some scanty trace your fine hound can pick up."

"Oh, most excellent beast!" The young Prince exclaimed. "Already you have proved your worth and the first sun has yet set on our bargain. Oh worthy wrym, I realize that I do not even know your name to praise you."

"My name is too harsh for your human tongue." The wyrm said proudly.
"The language of my people is complicated and silent."

"Then I shall call you Draco, for you are like unto those great beasts."

The beast accepted the name and they slept and ended the first part of
the Prince's quest, for every knight errant needs a found companion for which Sirius did not quite count though his fine and quick nose would unstick them from quite a many bad situations.

They walked on the next morning and very soon, it became unbearably hot and the wyrm began to complain of his tired feet and sore legs.

"Well then! Why not fly on ahead?" Harry encouraged.

The wyrm blinked at him.

"Fly? But I cannot!"

"You tell me you have such great wings and have never launched yourself into the air?"

"Once," The wyrm said darkly, "Once all my people could take to the sky and fly such mighty and uncompromising spirals that the animals for miles ran and could not hide, but the lord of the dark, he is of the underground and hates the open air. We have lived so long in the deep tunnels that we have forgotten the way of it."

"There is no dark lord here." Harry pointed out. "Nothing to stop you from trying."

Draco paused and his large eyes rolled in contemplation.

"Too fly...I'd be the first in generations!"

So as they followed the trail and the days passed, Draco began to make tremendous leaps off the tops of trees, often crashing into the underbrush. Gradually, it became clearer to him and eventually, he could challenge the hawks for their prey.

"It must be wonderful to be in the air like that." Harry remarked wistfully one night as Draco curled nearer to the fire, his cold blood eager for flames.

"Would you really like to fly?"

"Oh, yes!"

Without warning, Draco unfolded himself and scooped Harry up with a mighty talon and tossed him onto his back. The young Prince quickly found scales to be slippery, so threw his arms tightly around the great neck and leaned his cheek onto the plated back. It smelled slightly of brimstone. There was one great lurch and then they were in the night air, Sirius barking wildly beneath them.

The whole of the forest laid out beneath them, writhing in shadows and the sky was velvet littered with diamonds above them. Harry laughed with pure joy until his eyes did settle on the place where the sky and the forest met.

"What foulness is that?" He muttered, watching a strange pulsing darkness that seemed to spread farther and farther over the land with each moment.

"That is the kingdom of the dark lord. See how it grows?" Draco hissed. "Soon it will all be like that. Every inch of the forest consumed, every kingdom swallowed."

"No. No it will not be so and I swear it on the sword of my father and my mother's last kiss on this cheek!"

This impassioned plea was heard through out the forest and though it's meaning was garbled through the night air, all heard and their hearts were lifted though they did not know why.

It was only a week later that they unwittingly reached their first goal.


The once King and now only Magician had come closer back to his own homeland then usual and in doing so had cloaked himself all the more heavily so that he was only a bunch of black fabric in the shape of an old woman. His face
was lost in shadows. A potion cracked and lightened his voice to that of a
crone.  He was walking with studied care, bent almost double over his tall walking stick when he heard the voices in the woods, ringing clearly.

"Where are you running off too?...Sirius? Sirius!"

A large black dog came crashing into the woods towards him. With widened eyes, the magician recognized his own work and quicker then lightening, he threw a strong sweet oil over himself so that his scent altered.

Bemused the large hound sniffed sadly at the soft, masking perfume. He had been so sure. Perhaps, his hopes had created the scent in the air. Behind him, Harry crashed through the bushes in chase, nearly tripping over him.

"Oh!" The youth stopped abruptly. "Good meetings. I apologize for my hound, we have been some days alone on the road and he grows skittish." Sirius growled low.  From the depths of his hood, the once king stared. The boy was the exact image of his father, but for the sparkling green eyes that had been Lady Lily's.

"Fine, fine, lad. He probably only smelled my dinner."  'Her' voice cracked just as an old woman's would. Harry was easily convinced.

"Where are you traveling too, lady? Are you alone?"

"I am onto the next town to sell my skills and wares. I usually travel alone."

"Would you care to travel with me? I could offer some protection and you could provide new company."

"And where do you travel too?"

"I'm searching for a man, who has been many years gone. That was my sole aim, but recently it has come to my attention that a darkness is creeping through these very woods and I vow to stop it. You can see I have much ground to cover and could use your skills. I guess you to be a healer?"

"Aye." So the son rode forth to heal the sins of the past. Very well then. He would come along. If Sirius had indeed repented, then he would mend him and perhaps, he could help topple the Dark Lord at the same time. " I would be most glad of a companion."

"I hope you do not mind the presence of a small, peaceable wyrm?"  A cool familiar voice rang out from the trees. For the briefest moment, the hag was certain in was the old friend who had so seduced him, but no, that wyrm's wings were impotent and this one hung from the trees.

"So one of you has finally made use of those leathery wings!" He called out in the low crackling language of wyrm.

"And what glory to be had, old woman! What glory!" Age was a positive trait in wyrms.  "I may be young, but I have what none before me so gloried in.  My proper name is Sssstryrain. The warrior child calls me Draco."

Sssstryain. The very child of the seducing wyrm! The child that he had watched hatch from its splintered egg and struggle into it's first wobbling steps!

"I am Eliza." It was a name that suited as good as any. He spoke to both wyrm and man.

"I am Harry and my dog is Sirius." The smile was just as bright as Lord James' had been.  "Come and share a meal with us."

They broke bread and sealed their bargain. Eliza making sure to avoid anything that might bind her to truth. Harry was intelligent, but naive. Sirius warning growls not enough to rouse him from a deal with many escape clauses. Over fresh bread and roasted rabbit, Eliza learned all that she had missed in the kingdom. Quietly, she mourned the passing of Lord James and Lady Lily. Harry's eyes had shuttered when he spoke of them and his fingers rubbed idly over the strange black scar on his forehead.

They slumbered together under unblinking stars and in the morning set out again on some false clues Eliza provided on the whereabouts of the lost king. On such pretenses, the days melted easily together. Both Draco and Harry loved to chat, filling the air with the ebb and flow of young conversation.  Eliza was often silent, expected of an old woman who was keeping up with such company. On occasion she would add a comment, usually so profound and accurate that the conversation drew to a close afterwards. To Harry, she was a godsend, finding edible plants, healing scraps and muscle pulls and giving sound advice.

"If only she was a princess in disguise." He muttered to Sirius in the late hours of the cool night. "I need someone who's practical and smart. I can't run a kingdom."

Sirius licked his hand and whined encouragingly. Once the boy was asleep, he curled up close to him and stared thoughtfully at the bundle of rags that were Eliza. They had yet to glance so much as finger of her through her thick gloves and not a trace of a face from the depths of her dark hood. A princess.....doubtful, but disguised? To be sure. Unsettled, he drifted into a strange dream where James teased him with a bone and the Jester King's eyes followed him as he ran.

As they traveled, they found evidence of the darkness rising. Villagers paying extraordinary 'protection' taxes sited a strange, unseen lord
and they happened upon some terrible and fearsome sites. Animals maimed beyond recognition and hung from the trees, drawings, terrifying to the eye, carved into trees with a magic flame and once what appeared to be the remains of a man. 

When they stumbled across the boy, Harry cursed aloud, a breech of etiquette so profound that Draco nearly fell out of the sky.

"This cannot continue. No dread lord should rule these lands. No should quake in fear!"  In his rage,  the boy struck his sword into the
ground.  "Show yourself! Coward of the dark!"

"Hush!" Eliza hissed. But it was too late. The challenge had been issued and soon after the ground began to tremble and a foul stench rose upon the air. The very sun seemed to be blotted out by thick black smoke.

"Who is it that swears so against me?"  It rumbled from the deep, a threatening levitation.

"I am the child of two of the many who you have unjustly slain. Show yourself, so that I may exact my revenge!"

"Oh, I should rather think not! Why risk myself at your young blade when I can take what I want."

Eliza began to fiddle with her potions, but it was too late. The smoke descended and robbed her of her robe. Only the foul fog kept her from
being unmasked.  The darkness belched forth a laugh.

"Oh my pretty escapee come back to roost! What a day this is!"

"Foul villain!" Harry cried from his own prison of tough grime. A band wrapped around his mouth and he struggled midair to escape. The black
dog turned tail and ran. Still such a treacherous coward, Sirius? Eliza shook her head.  Once scum, always scum.

"Call me all the names you'd like, bratling. I will starve you into submission. Place them in the dampest hole you can find and post a
guard. I heard a third voice and the last thing we need is a daring rescue."

They were indeed carried to one of the grossest holes under the good green earth. The darkness was absolute and the scent so foul, Harry kept gagging. Only Eliza's persistence helped him keep his stomach settled and as time passed, he was glad of it. No food came to them, no light and other then the low whispers they exchanged between themselves when the guard slept, nothing to think of.

Time passed sluggishly. As hunger and fatigue set in, Harry slumped for hours, staring at nothing. Only Eliza's unflagging resolve to survive
kept him from flying off into another world entirely. She kept him grounded by teaching him. Names of plants and their uses, etiquette, anything she could think of.

On the fifth day of their imprisonment, there was a mouse in their tiny allotment of water. It crawled up Harry's arm and curled a paw over his
ear.

"Draco and Sirius will come soon. They found a mage to give me voice and sent into the town for reinforcements. When the time comes, your swords and clothes are being kept in a store room to the left of this very cell. There is a loaf of bread in the false bottom of the bucket."

They ate the stale bread ravenously and began to plot.

"You have sword?" Harry asked when all was said and done.

"I travel alone. I need such things. Have no fear, I can hold my own in a battle."

In the absolute darkness, Eliza's many glamors and potions had begun to fade. Only her false voice remained and that more from imitation then magic. Harry could make out the edges of his companion with sharpened eyes and he began to wonder if the princess idea was so far fetched. Though surely no princess was battle trained? He'd have to ask once they escaped.

When the first sounds of commotion were heard, they forced open the rusted gate of their prison and took the guard by surprise. Everything was
where the mouse had guided them.  They strapped their swords to their sides and donned their cloaks, fumbling with the clasps in the blackness. In the distance, a dog howled.

"A war cry." The younger man said tightly. "The first of my time."

"Pray that it be the last."

They set off and quickly found the battle. Torches glittered in the distance.

"For honor!" Harry cried and charged full on ahead, sword unsheathed, cloak flapping dramatically behind him.

"Stupid, brave child." And then Eliza was no more. It was the once king who drew his sword and joined battle.

It should have been impossible. A dog, a middle aged man, an untested boy and a child wyrm against an army. But such things did happen. Especially since most the Dark Lord's army were slaves, who sensing the rising war, had secretly shifted sides.  Now, they battled fiercely against their masters.  Draco attacked his own kind from the sky, driving the cowards among them back and luring the brave and foolhardy to their deaths among the bloodthirsty slaves.

Light began to flicker to life around them and in the semidarkness, Harry disarmed his opponent, one man closer to facing the Dark Lord, himself.  It was then that he managed to look up and seek out Eliza. He found her familiar form, cloaked, charging at the fiercest looking of wyrms. Her sword was ablaze with a stark white light and as if by fate's very hand, her hood fell back.

"Oh!" Harry's cry was filled with emotion. It was the most beautiful and noble sights he had ever seen.  In the harsh light, a face of pure
white, a long hook nose and fierce black eyes were framed by a dense thatch of ebony hair. He felt no chagrin at being fooled by the costume. He was too awed as he watched the best blade work he had ever seen, render the gruesome beast to a pile of blue blooded sludge. 

The man who had been Eliza, paused to catch his breath and glanced over to Harry. Their eyes met, but before anything could pass between them, the man was shouting a warning.

"Behind you!"

Harry sped on his heel to parry a forceful thrust and was too engaged in battle to think again on the mysterious man. The battle raged until a
distant cry of retreat, had the once vast, but now severely diminished, dark army falling back. There was no point in pressing on. They were still vastly outnumbered in enemy territory. 

"We have won the day. Now to flee to fight another day!" He shouted for those who had fallen under his command and they made for the newly cleared exits. 

The revealed man stumbled towards the light, nearly falling over the panting body of a large black dog. 

"Sirius." He said softly. The nose twitched and the dog whimpered.  "Yes, my old nemesis, it is I. Are you badly wounded?"

A slight shake.  Carefully, the magician scooped up his handiwork and followed the rest through to the light.  A mile or so south of the
crevice, a makeshift camp was being set up with what materials could be found. One man carrying a dog went unnoticed. In a clear spot, the man set down his burden.

"You have learned you lesson, I should think. Far better then I thought you could.  Harry is safe under your protection. He deserves your council when he takes the throne."

Passing by, Harry's ears perked when he heard his name and he made it to the site, just in time to see the man pour the potion onto his best
friend's fur. For a moment, he was sure that Sirius had been poisoned, the body convulsed so and he cried out. The man's eyes flew to his and in the light, he found that face more intriguing still. Lines of age were harsh about his eyes, but
lacking at his lips.  Those eyes burned with restless emotions and brows twitched with uncanny nimbleness.

"What? Where?" And where Sirius had been, there was a man. Tall, thin and dressed in clothes two decades out of fashion. "Severus?"

"Aye." The mysterious man agreed. "After all these long years. Both of us, I think, have become someone else."

"My liege." They both turned to find Harry on his knees, eyes to the ground.

"What are you talking about? Get up." Severus rolled his eyes to the heaven's. "Save me from melodramatic boys."

"Harry, he's no one's king. Not any more."

"He's mine." Harry insisted. "And no one can tell me differently. Even if it is I who sit on the throne. I will answer to him."

"You don't even know me, you foolish child.." Severus began.

"Oh, but I do. From my history lessons, I know you to be just. From my people, I know you to be wise and fair. As a traveling companion, you
fought loyally by my side, even with a faulty oath sworn. All these things and more, I know you to be. Of your habits and table manners, I care not. You are a kingly man. I am as you say, a foolish child, who does not wish to rule."

"Harry." Sirius finally rose from the dirt floor. "You're in shock. Come, let's scrounge some clothes and bit of food."

Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be led away, cheered by the prospect of finally speaking to his most loyal companion. Yet...he couldn't help,
but look back over his shoulder. Black eyes bore into his, reaching into the depths.

The whole company was soon headed back to Albus' kingdom, there for the freed men to find land and Harry to become King. While the people around him rejoiced, the young man contemplated a life of responsibility and discussion. Occasionally, he would spot Severus, trudging with the men, but it seemed the man was deliberately avoiding him. Despite his embarrassment, Harry would not have taken back his words for anything.

Upon arriving home, there were grand welcomes and balls. Harry was watched constantly by guards, preventing a last minute escape. Sirius was
reinstated as a royal advisor.  It was decided, after much discussion, that Severus should be given some land and a title.

"I want none of it." He told his father when approached. "I wish to live out the rest of my days in quiet contemplation."

"But my boy! You were a king!"

"I was also a pauper, but you do not ask me to don again those rags.  I will be gone from here the moment I can."

"No!" Both royal me turned to find Harry standing in the doorway.
"Please...don't leave. I have need of your keen mind and experience."

"You have advisors."

"I have a loyal friend, who has been a dog for seventeen years and a handful of pretentious noble man." His mind whirled, quickly, desperately. "You may have no title, not even that as advisor. Take rooms here, in the castle and be a healer for those who live under the roof. I will have need of a man of your skills and I will wrest them from you one way or another."

In that final effort to share his power, Harry seemed to Albus to be at his most kingly. Green eyes blazed in challenge, his whole body an open
appeal.

"If you are thus determined, then my first piece of advice is that you marry the Lady Hermione."

It was an obvious attempt to shake the young man and if fell off it's mark.

"Why?"

"She is brilliant and has enough royal blood to satisfy the populace.  She will give you an heir and you can comfortably make whatever bargains
between you as you desire."

"I concur. Tonight, I will seek her permission. I think you're original rooms have remained untouched. Someone will see to their refreshening
tonight." And with that he was gone, leaving the other men slightly stunned. 

"And he thinks he is not fit to lead?" Severus muttered.

"Perhaps you will teach him differently, my son."

For the moment, Harry felt definitively triumphant. He was about to seek out the Lady Hermione when she ran full throttle into him.

"There you are!" She scolded.  "I have the most amazing thing to tell you! I was speaking with Draco and he told me all about the wyrms losing their ability to fly and I thought it probably wasn't only flight they lost. I looked into tomes of the ancient texts and there it was! Wyrm's have a human form! With the right tools, they can slip in and out of their skins!"

"That does sound..." He began.

"So I told Draco about it and he was curious! We tried it this afternoon and it worked! I've been running all over trying to find appropriate attire for him, but we kept him hidden. Think of his asset as a spy!" As she spoke, she tugged him along. "He has just perfect manners and him not even being able to stand properly, knew three formal bows! Honestly, you could learn from him."

They arrived at her apartment doors and were through without ceremony. Sitting in one of heavily brocaded chairs was a man who seemed made of pearls and silver. He rose as they entered, bowing to Harry with the suggestion of a sneer on his lips and much more sincerely to the Lady, kissing her hand.  Judging by both their blushes, perhaps Severus plan would work even better then he might have suspected.

Once the night was through, Harry had a bride, an advisor he trusted and a little less fear of taking on the weight of the crown. 

The coronation and the marriage were held on the same day, nearly four months later. The festivities were unrivaled by anything the land had ever seen.  King Harry was a fine gentleman, looking properly solemn without losing a small grin.  His bride was lovely and if she looked a little distracted, that was only to be expected.

In the background and not entirely unnoticed was Severus. Some of the older folk remembered him and spoke in whispers the legend of his return. The man did not seem inclined to retake the throne, but one never knew. He wore black, not a fair color for a coronation though it flattered his sallow skin better then any bright kingly robe. 

What did go unnoticed was the briefest of exchanges between King Harry and the black robed magician, just before the procession through the
capital began. Their exchanges in the previous four months had been in large groups of counselors and teachers. It was the first moment alone they'd ever shared. 

"I meant what I said. This crown means something to them," Harry gestured at his people, "but naught to me. It should rightfully sit on your head and as long as we both breath then you are my king."

"Foolish boy." Severus muttered, but their eyes caught and held.  The heat that had built between them had reached an almost unbearable level.
Every glance, every word was laden with second meanings and hidden desire.  The younger man did not seem to quite understand it, displacing it into this foolish strange loyalty. "Lady Hermione's potion is by the bedside."

"Thank you, sire."
 
Before Severus could protest, the carriage rolled off, the new King waving casually from the window.  Very well. It seemed this was another lesson he would be forced to teach.

The wedding night did not go as badly as Harry had expected. Hermione had taken the potion that would guarantee her conceiving that night and
after some silly modesty on both their parts, they managed to make a reasonable go at it. Harry had some experience and she wasn't a virgin though she assured him that it was over a year ago.  When it was through between them, she slipped
from his side to her own quarters. The door swung open as her fingers touched the doorknob, revealing a smirking human Draco. He pulled her into the bedroom and a delighted giggle seeped out of crack underneath the door.

Suddenly intractably lonely, Harry rose to retreat to his own bedroom, instead of the farce of a marriage bed. So lost in thought was he that he did not notice someone else in his rooms until he was almost on top of them. Still dressed in his coronation black, Severus sat in one of the fine chairs. 

"My liege."  Harry sunk to his knees, right in front of the magician.

"My foolish boy." A dry hand came down to cup Harry's cheek. "Did all go well?"

"As best as it could." Harry leaned into the touch, marveling at the contrast between this man's weathered skin and the soft peach of Hermione's. "She is patient and kind."

"But not what you desire." So blatant. Harry dared to look up and was caught and held by those hypnotic eyes.

"No."

"What is it that you want then, King Harry?" 

There was a long silence as Harry truly thought about the question. From a single point of touch and the smooth velvety voice, he felt the fire of arousal course through his body and alighting deep in his stomach.  He turned his face enough to drop a kiss unto the coarse skinned palm.

"You."

Severus moved smoothly from his chair to kneel with the King.

"And if I give myself to you, then what will I have?"

"Me...if you should so desire." 

Severus moved inexorably closer. Their lips brushed.

"A fair enough exchange then. "

The kiss was what Harry had been waiting for ever since his mother told him fairy tales on her knee. It warmed him in places he did not know were cold and for the moment, soothed the ache of his endless mourning. Severus drew him up and moved them to the bed. Slowly, gently, he taught him about what two men could do with their bodies. Harry made an eager student.  When Severus finally penetrated him and shot sparks through his body, he swore that for that moment, there was only white soft light forever undimmed.

King Harry would go down in legend for many things. His defeat of the Dark Lord after twenty years of battle, his siring of two black haired boys and a bevy of ethereally beautiful blond girls and countless acts of reform. The people loved him, the court loved him and his children were devoted to him.

And yet...when he finally died, it was in his own bed chamber with only his magician to attend him. They were both by then very old and long since passed their prime.  Harry lay in bed, wizened and grayed while his companion sat up in a chair, a long mane of white hair spilling over perpetually black robes.

"So we come to the end, my love." Harry sighed. "All the great deeds and valor and still I will perish like a man who herds pigs."

"Stop being so melodramatic." Severus scolded. "You're lying on sheets threaded with gold and history texts filled with your name. No pig
herder can claim that."

"Do you suppose I'll see my parents again?"

"Perhaps." Severus allowed, not reminding the King of his own persistent belief that their was nothing past death, but going back to nature as
it were.

"I shall miss you."

"I'll be along soon enough." 

"Of course, of course. You've been predicting your own death every year for two decades and now look! Nearly eighty and I'm withered and gone at
sixty."  He started cough.  "Come and lie beside me once more."

Slowly, joints stiff with age, Severus crawled into the bed and settled next to him. 

"Tell me a story....." He was commanded. "Anything..."

"Once..."Severus swallowed. "Once there was a young foolish boy who had a big black dog. He was very brave and wanted to do so many things, so he rushed off to do them all. Where ever he was stopped, he defeated those who would prevent him. Then a great darkness came and the boy needed allies, so he gathered many too him and fought off the darkness...he won and he was so strong and beautiful in that moment....I will never forget the blood on his face or the triumph."

When there was no answer to his tale, Severus knew the King was dead. For a long time, he did not move, but held the body with all it's fleeting warmth. 

    "Good night, my King." His voice was shaky and he lay a last kiss on the cool cheek. Rising from the bed was a great effort, but he straightened and managed to go through the doors and out into the court.  He looked over them, a field of young, fresh faces..."The King is dead!"

    The world felt suddenly dark and he leaned against the banister, watching the news travel with speed.  Slowly, he sank to floor, the words still on his lips. They would find him, stiff with his mouth still poised to say:"The King is dead." 

    But only when his own heart had stopped was it entirely true. Though no history book would every record it. Though no one, save Lady Hermione and Lord Draco would ever know that all the years of peace and harmony was under the rule of two kings, whose likes might never be seen on earth again. The Jester and his willing Puppet.