No Greater Love

[jesusgirl4ever]

So...I wrote this for a writing contest. I didn't win, but I thought I'd post it.

Once upon a time, there was a village far away from the center of the kingdom where the influence of the kind and gracious king was barely felt. Instead, the land was ruled by a cruel and harsh lord who cared nothing for laws or for his people. In this land was a young peasant girl, whose parents had died when she was very young. In order to pay off a debt they had apparently owed, she had been made a slave to the lord of the land. Even though she somehow managed to survive, it had not been in the way that anyone would had wanted, and certainly it was no way for a child to live. She grew up with little food and much work. As a child, she often made mistakes, and the lord would punish her severely for them. Her body soon became marred with scars. As she grew, her living conditions never changed and, in fact, got worse. She was expected to work more and more. Somehow, her parents’ debt never decreased, and she accumulated one of her own to the lord of the land, which ensured she would always live under his power, for, of her own accord, she would never be able to pay off the massive debt that was on her shoulders. Though she never realized it, she had become quite selfish because of her upbringing, believing that she had to take care of herself and herself alone. She trusted no one, and she was not well-liked by others.

When the girl had become a young woman, the area of the kingdom in which she lived was visited by the prince of the kingdom. He was just like his father: kind, gentle, and merciful. The king had heard reports of this province’s mistreatment, and so he sent his son to investigate it and see if the reports held any merit. When the prince arrived, the lord of course pretended to be delighted to see him and honored by his visit, but he secretly began to hide all his wrongdoing as quickly as he could. However, the kind of cruelty the lord had shown to his subjects could not be covered up easily, and the prince was told by many of the exploitation they had suffered. He also met with many of the servants of the castle, who told him what kind of a man this lord truly was. One of the servants he met was the peasant girl, who was frightened of him at first, since all she had ever known of men in authority was abuse and mistreatment. However, the prince was fascinated by the girl, scars and all, and did his best to spend much time with her. Eventually, he broke down her defenses, and she told him of the debt she owed the lord and how it could never be paid. He had seen her actions, as well, and how she only took care of herself. When he asked her about what she did, she was surprised at first, but, upon close self-examination, she admitted her selfishness and told him where it likely came from. He promised her that he would help her escape the clutches of the cruel lord. She had to remind herself daily that he was a prince and that a scarred, ugly slave girl wasn’t worthy of his affection or attention.

The prince’s investigation couldn’t be hidden from the lord forever, and it was only a matter of time before the matter erupted into a confrontation. The lord demanded that the prince leave the territory to his own watchful eye, as he had ruled confidently for many years and could continue to do so. The prince refused, claiming that he had not ruled well and that mistreating those under his authority was the mark of a coward and one unfit to have authority over anyone else. The lord tried to dissuade the prince, but, once he realized how futile that attempt was, he challenged him to a duel, the winner of which would receive the province without any further argument. The prince agreed to this, though the peasant girl and others tried to convince him otherwise, informing him of the lord’s prowess with the sword (and this, though she did not realize it, was one of her first truly selfless acts). He assured them that he knew of the lord’s cunning, trickery, and skill with a sword and that his own skill was great as well. He had been trained by the finest swordsmen in the kingdom, including his father, and he was certain that he could defeat the lord.

The day of the duel came, and the servants and people of the surrounding lands gathered to watch, hoping against hope that they would be freed from the control of the villainous lord. The peasant girl watched with bated breath, not allowing herself to hope at all, certain that any she did permit to flourish would be dashed. The two men stood across from each other in an arena and exchanged some words before they backed away from each other, drawing their swords and attacking. The swords met with a loud clang, and even those who knew nothing about sword fighting or dueling could tell that both men were extremely skilled. The peasant girl almost couldn’t bear to watch the fight, but sometimes not knowing was worse than watching. Swords glanced off of chain mail and struck each other in the air again. The sun beat down on the fighters and the onlookers as the day wore on. Suddenly, the lord’s sword snuck into one of the few places that the prince’s armor didn’t protect him. A collective gasp rose from the spectators, and the girl’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. The prince staggered back, clearly in pain and weakening. A litany of denial ran through the girl’s head as the lord stalked toward the stumbling prince, a victorious smile on his face. Just as he got within a sword-length of the prince, the younger man exploded into motion. His sword flashed in the sun, striking the deathblow to the lord, who fell to the ground and landed with a loud thud.

The peasant girl and others in the stands were running to the prince even before the lord had completely fallen. She collapsed onto the ground beside him as a man skilled in the healing arts knelt on his other side. She ripped her apron off, pressing it against the prince’s wound, ignoring the slick, red substance that coated her hands. The prince coughed, asking if the lord was truly dead. The girl looked up, seeing someone give her a firm nod. She told the prince that he was and that he needed to rest. A small smile stayed in place even as he closed his eyes and drifted off. She glanced up at the healer. “How is he?” she asked brokenly.

A few tears leaked out of her eyes as the man answered, “I do not know if he will survive.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, hoping against hope that he would not die. As men came to move the prince into the castle’s healing ward, she got up and moved away, allowing them room to work. She looked around and saw that the entire province, it seemed, was watching them take the prince away, weeping. He had saved their lives, at the cost, it appeared, of his own. Even the children understood the gravity of the situation. Despite the great joy that was building in their hearts for their freedom, they were now all unsure if the price would be worth it.

The prince’s life hung in the balance for three days. The peasant girl barely left his side during that time. She only now knew how much she truly loved him, and she was fearful that she would never be able to tell him just how much. She had barely been convinced to leave him long enough to clean the blood off of her hands. As she dozed beside his bed, she suddenly felt movement underneath the covers. Her head shot up, tear-stained face slowly showing anticipation. The prince coughed before opening his eyes. “What-what happened?”

“You-you’re awake!” she cried, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. “How do you feel?”

“I’m hungry, and a drink of water would be nice.”

She nodded, reaching over to pick up a full glass. She held it to his lips, tilting his head up so that he could drink without choking. She lowered his head back to the pillow once the glass was empty. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“I should be the one thanking you. You-you were willing to die to free us from that horrid man. You almost did.”

He smiled. “I would do it again.” He paused, looking at her critically. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“I’ve not done much of anything in the past three days except sit here with you. I-I couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

His smile widened. “I’m glad you couldn’t, but you need to go look.”

“Why? I know there’s not much to see there. I’m aware that I’m not beautiful.”

“You are to me.”

The girl rose and went to the nearest mirror. She didn’t want to face what she felt for the prince or what it seemed that he felt for her. When she saw herself, though, her mouth dropped, and she raced back to the prince’s side. “What-what is happening? My scars-they’re disappearing!”

“After the duel…I seem to have a vague memory of you beside me even then. Is that right? Were you there with me?”

“Yes…yes, I tried to stop the bleeding. It was a futile effort, but I tried.”

“So my blood was on your hands?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds worse than it was, but, yes, it was.”

His hand freed itself from the blankets to grip one of hers. She was somewhat ashamed of the callouses and scars that covered her hands, but his next words made her forget everything else. “This happened with my mother, too. My father could only explain it by thinking that his love had taken away her scars and the things that caused her shame.”

“But your father loved your mother.”

He raised his eyebrows. “He still does, as far as I know.”

“What I mean is…that would make this different. If his love took away her scars, what took away mine?”

He looked at her strangely. “My love for you, of course. What else could it be?”

Her pulse and breath quickened. “But…you don’t love me. You can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked softly.

“You’re a prince! And I’m just…just a broken slave girl who doesn’t know anything different. A selfish, ugly girl who’s never cared for anyone other than herself before now! I-I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve anything from you.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and her eyes were fixed on the ground.

“Look at me,” he said in quiet tones. He was silent until she finally raised her head. “Yes, I love you. My love is something that you don’t have to deserve. It’s something I give freely. And I have chosen to give it to you.”

“There’s nothing in me that should make you want me.”

“Maybe not, but I still do.” His eyes bored into hers. “I was willingly going to die for you, to save you from the clutches of an evil man. That stands as the proof of my love.”

Tears pricked her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks. “It’s because of what you were willing to do that you deserve better than me! You deserve a beautiful girl, a noble girl, who comes from a good family and-”

He gently cut her off. “It wasn’t a noble girl that needed me. It was you. You needed me to save you, and I did, almost at the cost of my own life.” He squeezed her hand. “You, my love, are the only girl I want. I saved you in hopes that you would come back with me and become my bride. Will you?”

She laughed through the tears that had continued to flow. “If that’s what the prince wants, how could a poor, peasant girl deny him?”

A month after they traveled back to his home, the prince and his peasant bride were married, and it was often said that they were the happiest couple in the land. Her scars had disappeared eventually, and her husband was always quick to say that she was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. When she looked back at her old life, it was often with regret at her own attitude and actions, but the prince never allowed her to dwell on such things for long. His love for her was deep and binding, greater than any other, and it never waned or faded, for all their days.

[knightofnarnia]

Good story. The beginning reminded me of Cosette and her mother Fantine (with the debt and the cruelty of the lord in your story compared to the innkeepers in Miserable). But I instinctively knew you were going to shy away from that story. As soon as you said she'd grown to become a woman I knew the prince wasn't far. I speak and write in two languages and in the none English one the prince would need a capital p. (All nouns referring to Divinity do). But even without that it wasn't hard to immediately guess the prince's identity. There are some differences between the allegory and reality but there always is to make the story work.

[hobbit_of_narnia]

So I finally got around to reading this and wow, it's very well written! Good job, Jaygee!