Well... what do you know. I went and wrote this horrifically verbose one-shot. Standard disclaimer applies--I do not own any of the named characters in this fic, nor any of the realms mentioned. So... please don't sue.

This fic also features two boys who may or may not end up in a relationship. If that doesn't float your boat, don't read it. For everyone else... enjoy!

My name is Marth… I was once a prince, the beloved heir of a kingdom far, far away. Lost in the tide of time as it is, I no longer hold a rank. I merely wander, my feet carrying me far and near all at the same time. At night, I sleep beneath whatever tree will provide me shelter, and some days when I am desperate I will sing for pennies on the corners of village streets. And yet… I do not mind this fall from grace so much, for it was less of a fall than I could have hoped.

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I met someone whose eyes were of a lighter, clearer blue than my own, whose hair shimmered red in the cheery sunshine. His clothing was immaculate, pristine… and here I was, in the tattered, slightly ratty remains of regal blue and silver cloth. But it mattered not to me… I was content to look, and happy with what visions my eyes could drink in. And he was a glorious vision to behold, indeed… he rode through the square on a white horse, his sword buckled to his belt and his boots neatly shined. All around him the people who knew him greeted him, and he replied with a smile and a friendly comment or two… but when he looked my way my voice caught in my throat and my songs all vanished on the wind… just like my kingdom of old.

I could only pick up the small coins that people had dropped into a small tin cup I kept nearby, perhaps out of pity roused by my sung lamentations, and turn to run… but a voice stopped me. Only one word, and my feet were no longer able to move… they seemed glued to the ground. "Wait," he said.

"Please… sir, what is it you require of me?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear, my apprehension—how else was I to react? Perhaps if my kingdom had survived, I would be invoking this reaction now… greeting my people right and left, stopping to leave some coins with the street urchins who sang and danced to make ends meet… But now was no time to be thinking of such things.

"Come… sing a duet with me. Your voice is uncommonly lovely," he replied, dismounting from his horse. He held his hand out, though whether it was to clasp my hand or to offer a simple handshake I never knew. In my sudden shame for the way I had allowed my appearance to degenerate, I recoiled.

"Don't be afraid… I won't bite, I promise."

"I… can't. It wouldn't be proper for me to touch you." Inwardly I cursed how timid I sounded. Why could I not simply refuse and leave it as that? But he was kind… he did not object to the fact that I suddenly became shy around him.

"Rubbish… here, that could not be further from the truth. Come with me…"

But how could I? I was a penniless wanderer who sang for the money to buy bread, who bathed in springs and did not even polish the circlet that I could not even wear any more—my hair had grown too long for it to keep in check. "Sir… I cannot… cannot even afford to stay at an inn," I murmured. As quickly as I became mortified that I had said such a thing, I could not take it back.

"Very well then… I trust you will be here tomorrow?" He fished in a saddlebag. "Let me see that cup for a second…" I handed it to him, eyes towards the ground… expecting the worst, perhaps, but that itself could not have been farther from the truth.

There were five metallic clinks, and then he handed the cup back. I took it with both hands, careful not to make contact with his hand… and yet a pair of warm digits brushed the back of my hand as he released my cup. I could barely contain my yelp of surprise as I looked inside.

"Sir… sir, please! You can't… it's just not… how will I pay you back? I cannot afford to take a loan so great!" I cried, helplessly.

"I believe that if you will sing with me I will consider it repaid. Is that fair?" he replied, winking.

I could not speak. Imagine my shock when I had looked inside the cup and found five gold pieces sitting inside! I could afford a night at the inn, and to buy another set of clothing… it was like a dream come true. And yet… something else tugged at my heart. Perhaps it was my governess' insistence upon my proper manners that had suddenly surfaced, after all these years.

"… Thank you, sir. You are too kind to one such as I…" I reached back into my memory and gave him the most elaborate bow of gratitude I knew that fit his higher rank. I was sadly lacking of my former grace, but I thanked my governess and the memorization that had preserved the knowledge of this… and when I stepped back three paces and looked up, his eyes were wide in shock.

"You are an Altean," he breathed.

"But my kingdom is no more… so I wander the land fruitlessly, searching for everything and nothing… and perhaps someone who may heal my broken heart." I could not believe I had just spoken such out loud! But… it was too late. "I thank you for your kindness, sir…" Then I bolted, he making no move to stop me. Behind me, the townspeople continued on with their daily hustle and bustle.

After bathing at the inn, and having washed my hair and trimmed it, I pulled out my old, tarnished circlet. Finding a clean cloth, I began to polish it—there was little else to do, and I wanted a diversion. This leisure time was so unfamiliar, after so long spent walking and singing… I felt like a new man. I was clean, I had ordered a modest dinner from the inn's kitchen, and there was a young woman in the next room who had taken up my offer of singing a duet in the common room before all the inn's guests retired.

My clothing had only required a bit of scrubbing before it was presentable again. As of now, it hung up to dry on a line near the window in my room. It was sad to think that after tonight, I would be sleeping out under the stars again, but perhaps I simply needed this night to refresh myself before going out poorly equipped into a world that was no picnic.

Dinner was a few thick slices of newly baked bread, fresh milk, and a tomato soup of some variety that was quite delicious. Strangely enough, it satisfied my palate better than the rich dishes that I remembered from old banquets had… likely because I knew that no one had slaved for days to make it. The innkeeper's husband, the cook, had made the soup in a matter of thirty minutes, and yet it tasted better than the roasted pheasant my father liked. On the side was a sliced apple, sprinkled with a little brown sugar, for dessert.

I hadn't eaten that well for what seemed like years… although in truth it had only beenabout six months. So it was with a full stomach and a light heart that I went to greet the young woman I was to sing with.

She had a knowing twinkle in her clear blue eyes that I found vaguely familiar. Her dress was immaculately pressed, and her long, red hair was bound in loose braid. "My name is Tethys, and I'll be delighted to sing with you tonight…" she murmured, her voice surprisingly low for her slight build. I could swear that her hair color was familiar, and yet… no, the young man from earlier had not even told me his name! How could I possibly presume he would go this far to secure a duet with me?

"What shall we sing, miss?" I asked, not letting the doubts clouding my mind take over. There was a time for doubt, and a time for merriment… and I would choose merriment for today, before becoming a penniless wanderer yet again tomorrow. I had saved two of the gold coins to insure that I would be able to at least purchase another set of clothing, plainer than what I had left behind in Altea but functional—but thoughts like that were best left inside my room for now. I could plan the remainder of my life as I wished…

"How about we let the guests decide?" She made a wide, playful gesture at the various inn guests who lounged in the common room. They were spread out over the various chairs and couches that were arrayed around a warm hearth, to the side of which we stood.

"The old song! The old song!" They chorused merrily, all wearing identical smiles—as if this was a custom of theirs that they liked to have unwary strangers partake in.

"I… do not know this 'old song' you speak of," I confessed helplessly. My puzzled expression served to amuse some of the guests very much, and even Tethys could barely hide her smile. I tugged at the hem of the blue surcoat I had borrowed from the innkeeper's husband, pulling it down a little further down over my pale gray breeches to occupy myself while Tethys recovered from her amusement.

"That is all right… It is not hard to learn," she reassured me. As she took one of my hands into one of her, own, however, I noticed something odd… she had what felt like blade calluses! Noting the discreet outline of a dagger buckled to her thigh, I promptly swatted the train of thought that suggested that perhaps the young man from earlier had disguised himself as a woman and stood here before me as the young lady named Tethys. She was not unattractive… perhaps she had cause to use the dagger often in her travels.

"How… how do I begin?"

"Just follow my lead," she told me, chuckling lightly. Another guest brought out a set of panpipes and began to play a lively, cheerful tune. Tethys counted three beats and began to sing, her voice a little lower than I had expected but still charmingly sweet.

"Still I'm dreaming,
Always dreaming a lovely multicolor world
And it would only be perfect, if I had
my true love here!

He has manners to spare,
His voice is fair,
his grace like angel's song!
And yet I swear
he's not all there--
or he'd know I was a fellow all along!"

She winked at me amidst the chuckles from the guests, saying, "We always include a joke in the last line." Twirling on her toes, she stopped while facing me and said, "Now you sing about your love!"

The panpipes continued to play while I stood there, feeling embarrassed. "I… don't have a love to speak of."

"Oh? Is that so?" Tethys looked at me thoughtfully, and decided that I was telling the truth. "In that case we shall have to mourn your lack of love… or do you have a deceased lover you haven't told us about?"

"… Only my fiancée. She fell in battle, and though we were close enough I do not miss her too much…" I shifted uncomfortably as I said this, feeling several pairs of eyes fix upon my face.

"Ah… arranged marriage, am I to presume?" Tethys cocked her head, and gave me a quizzical glance. She caught my nod, however, and shook her head. "I thought as much… very well! We shall sing of your fiancée who never saw the wedding night!"

"Oh no… please… that's not necessary." But my protests were ignored, and she only stopped to ask me my late fiancée's name and class. The panpipes changed their tune to a slightly mocking minor tune.

"Oh, he dreams of a violet rainbow
scattered with black roses and tears
And yet for dear Sheeda our grief is not--
but rather, for all of his fears!

Oh, Sheeda was a daring Pegasus knight
Her wing'd mount was most sprightly and daring!
Yet for her death her trait
that brought her sad fate
Was that of great heights she was uncaring!"

I had never been too fond of Sheeda, but to hear her sung of in such an easy, joking manner was mollifying. Yet… I could almost see her smiling at such comic antics, and remembered that she had never liked the way one had to act at funerals. Perhaps this was better for her memory after all.

"Oh? You're smiling. You should do that more often, instead of that pensive look you seem to favor—you must have been a prince somewhere to have developed that particular kind of please-don't-bother-me-I'm-lost-in-my-thoughts expression." Tethys' comical gestures and the faces she made as she said this in a sing-song voice cracked what remained of my self-control after the day, and I began to laugh.

"Is there really a difference?" I asked, breathless. I had forgotten what it was like to laugh hard, having little occasion to do so as I wandered.

"Oh, of course!" she replied. "Lords have one kind of pensive look, kings another, and princes—well, they have an array of facial expressions all of their own." She chuckled softly. "You were a prince, weren't you?"

She had said it so suddenly that I was caught off guard and sputtered. "W-what? How can you tell?"

"Only a prince would have such a horrified expression if we were to sing about his late fiancée whom he was not much in love with," she replied. "Besides, you seem to be a bit young to be a king anywhere."

"… no, you're right. I was a prince, but… well, I am a prince no more. It was a cruel twist of fate, perhaps, that destroyed my kingdom and scattered my people to the four winds, so that we are little more than a fairy tale." I smiled faintly, morbidly… and the guests, Tethys included, all sobered.

After some urging and a little clever persuasion on Tethys' part, I told my tale… how Altea had been destroyed by King Hardin, how my knights had all decided that I was not to stay and fight to the death to defend my realm, and how I had wandered after barely escaping with my life. Tethys seemed to be especially fascinated by the tale, more so than the other guests, and when it was over she murmured something to herself. It sounded suspiciously like she had found the explanation for something she had known for a long time.

"… Do you have a story as well?" I asked her. She laughed, in reply.

"Heavens, no! Not one of such epic weight, certainly… it is only a little tale about a young man with red hair who fell in love with a stranger." Her voice cracked a little with the last five words, dipping a little lower than seemed possible.

"… I wouldn't mind hearing it." It was true, I wouldn't. If anything, I would welcome the reprieve from pondering Altea's fate too long. My story served only to bring sober faces to those who had known my people, and not a few times I was forced to slip away under cover of night so as to elude the men King Hardin had apparently sent after me, once he'd learned that I had escaped… Luckily for me, I had not seen a single agent in Hardin's service for two years. Two long years…

She took me by the hand and began to walk back towards our rooms, excusing the both of us from the common room with a simple nod. "We never did sing a duet, did we?"

"I suppose not. Is… is that too much of a problem?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Nonsense… it is of no consequence at all." She smiled crookedly and played with her braid. Perhaps it was merely my day's exhaustion catching up with me, but I could swear that her braid had slipped backwards. A slight glint of gold and blue under her bangs caught my eye, but I refrained from asking. It quickly disappeared as she played with her hair, and I dismissed it as just a trick of the light. What more could it be?

"Well…" She stopped in front of my room. "Would you like to retire now, or would you like to come to my room for a nightcap? Or perhaps just to talk a little more?"

"I..." How could I possibly refuse? I did not drink much, but she was pleasant company and I did not even stop to wonder why she would invite me into her room so fearlessly. The inn guests all seemed to like her very much, so I did not think that she was of the disreputable type… but I should have seen something. She swayed her hips as she walked with what appeared to be intent, and her steps were a little awkward… as if walking with a lady's stride was difficult and unusual to her. Nevertheless… "I… well… I do not deal very well with alcohol."

"That's all right… would you like to simply converse with me for a while?"

"I… well, I don't see any harm in it."

It was inside Tethys' room that I discovered that the dagger she kept on her person was not the cause of her blade calluses. There was a sword propped up in its sheath in the corner of the room, underneath a god-figurine that was likely spelled by a security charm. It looked strangely familiar… but for whatever reason I felt quite comfortable and seated myself on a cushion on the floor as she invited me to.

"Would you like to hear my story?" she asked, after a period of slightly awkward silence.

I could only nod, suddenly struck by the complete absence of all the things a lady keeps in her room. There was nothing more than a brush and a simple hand-mirror.

"All right… It started, really, when I met a young man with red hair in the afternoon. He was riding around the town today, visiting people, and he tells me that as he rode into one square in particular today he heard someone singing—clearly a male singer, but a talented one at that.

"When he rode over to find out who this mysterious singer was, he found a young man with cobalt hair and the most beautiful icy blue eyes that he'd ever seen. He wanted to speak to him, wanted to learn his name and everything about him—where he was from, why he sat there in tattered blue and silver when everything about him declared him more than just the normal street urchin, and... what it took to win his heart.
"And yet he cursed his fickle tongue, for at that moment he lost all capability of speech. When the young man saw him, though, he attempted to run. Unable to stand the thought of having the singer run from him, though, he called out to him to wait—and lo and behold, the singer stopped in his tracks and timidly inquired what it was he wished of him. He again cursed his tongue, for all it would let him utter was that he wished to sing a duet with him.

"When he dismounted and reached out his hand, the singer shied away… and eventually, he knew that the singer would not work with him for the mere reason that he thought them so different in class. All he could do was give him five gold pieces and leave a not-so subtle hint that if he would sing duet with him the gold was a gift. And yet… he had hope. He knew where the singer was from, when he bowed to him with the grace that only the Altean people possessed… and the singer had confessed that he was searching for someone to heal his broken heart. So when the young man with the beautiful icy blue eyes ran away after all, he could only stand there and clutch desperately at the threads of hope the singer had left in his wake."

The room was silent for a while, as neither of us spoke—I did not know that this was all that she would tell me… and yet, something was vaguely familiar about her. Perhaps I should have known by the slightly awkward way she swayed her hips as she walked, as if her steps themselves were unfamiliar to her, or by the way that she kept playing with her hair, the braid somehow slipping down her head slightly each time she tugged at it. And… suddenly, I knew that the first rendition of the 'old song' that she had sung in my presence had been less of a joke than she had assured me it was.

"That's all there is to that story," she finally told me, confirming my suspicion that it had been over as soon as the silence had begun to stretch on far too long. "I… I know you're the singer. Could you… go back to that place where he found you tomorrow? Maybe… just so he can see you again? He really wanted to…" She played with her braid a little more, her fingers shaking slightly.

"… I can do that," I told her quietly. "Just… who are you? I know you're not a woman named Tethys. In fact, I'm starting to think that you aren't a woman at all."

'Tethys' hid her face in her hands. "My, how direct," she murmured quietly, her voice slightly ragged from the strain of keeping a convincingly deceiving falsetto going for the entirety of the time she'd interacted with me. The guests had known her well—that had been why they were so easily friendly with her!

"Please… who are you?" I asked again. Unconsciously I began to play with the hem of my borrowed surcoat. "I wouldn't look down upon you if you were not a woman after all… I knew a number of people who liked to dress as women from time to time. I have done it once myself in order to escape a man King Hardin had hired to hunt down and kill me…"

"…" After a pause, she reached one hand up to just below her bangs and pulled off what had been a rather convincing wig. I opened my mouth, and closed it again—I was struck speechless. Sitting before me was the same young, red-haired man who had approached me on horseback earlier today and requested to sing a duet. He undid the clasps that held the high collar of his bodice closed, and unpinned the back of the bodice with oddly expert hands. Letting the garment and the stuffing inside that had served to aid his illusion fall to the floor, he began on the skirt. When that too was shed, he stood before me in a loose white shirt and black leggings. "… I'm sorry," he muttered.

"For what? Why are you apologizing?" I asked, cursing the timidity that had crept back into my voice.

"For deceiving you, for following you here, for not being able to forget you… for foolishly wishing that I could heal the broken heart of an Altean prince whose heartbreak comes not from a dead fiancée, but from the loss of his entire kingdom, and the dispersion of his people… You loved them, didn't you? You would have made a great king." He tugged at his shirt a little. "My own pride would have me think that I was not wrong to do this, but I was…" Sweeping the discarded female garments away with a hand, he knelt before me and began a low bow I recognized from many court audiences… one of great apology.

"No… please… don't." I came in closer to him and stopped his bow, my hands shaking. "Please don't… I am no more a prince. I am only a wanderer, who lives off of his voice and the goodwill of others. Some day I shall succumb to an inglorious death from something as little as a cold… and yet while I can I walk, and I live. Please… don't apologize. You followed me with a kinder intent than many who have followed me before."

He did not reply. Remaining on his knees, he swiped one of his long white sleeves over his face, his eyes glistening with barely suppressed tears. I suppose it was because he was trying to hold back so much, but I would not let him. "How can you be so forgiving?" he asked, his voice trembling with the effort it took for him to hold his emotions at bay. "What if I had been one of those with fewer scruples? I could have taken advantage of you without you suspecting a thing, and yet you would tell me not to apologize?" He seemed truly agitated now.

"… I forgive many, but I never forget. And maybe that will one day lead me on path where I thirst for vengeance, but for now… I can only forgive. I wander and see many ways of life, many lives born, many deaths—I once witnessed Hardin's men massacring the people of a village who had taken me in. I saw them die, one by one… and the last to die, the village elder… his last breath was spent thanking the heavens that he was able to help the prince of Altea escape safely. They killed him…" I could not believe that I would tell him all of this… but I did, and my voice was cracking. I did not even see him now, staring over his head at the wall as I spoke. The god-figurine over his sword seemed to smile mockingly at me. "Maybe they are the only ones whom I will never forgive. Those that would destroy an entire village of innocent people because I stayed there, because they took me in and treated the wounds I carried the best they could…" I shut myself up. If I had kept speaking, I would have surely given in to the urge to cry. There was the twinge of an old wound on my back that the villagers had tried so hard to heal—and they paid so dearly for their honest efforts…

He looked at me, and paused only momentarily before enfolding me in a warm embrace, his heart speaking clearly to mine suddenly. You are not alone… I want to be here for you.

I could do little but reciprocate his gentle hug, and soon I was pressed up against his body, my head against his shoulder. I murmured, "… you have never told me your name."

"My name is Roy," he said. "… I want to know your name too…"

I smiled, and whispered my name into Roy's ear. His eyes widened, and suddenly his embrace became tight, desperate… longing, yearning, needing.

"I know your name… a fortune teller had once told me that I would meet a prince by your name. And we… we would bring both happiness and times of hardship to each others' lives. I… I cannot make you do this, though. I-if you would like, you can leave and c-continue wandering… like you have been for long before this… folly of mine…" He abruptly released me and slumped forward, his eyes towards the ground.

"… No… I—if you would not mind, I would like to stay with you. I… was half-hoping you would be the one who made my heart whole again. I said what I said because… I did not mean to say it, but it slipped out! Please… I would like to know you better. Roy…"

I was the one who initiated the second embrace, but I soon found myself drawn onto his lap. A pair of hot lips touched mine, briefly at first and then longer… and we were no longer merely a pair of strangers in each others' arms, needing someone to hold.

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I have had to leave for a year, because we deemed it was best that I continue to wander and make up my mind. But it has been settled, really… I cannot simply go away and leave him like that. My feet keep carrying me towards the town where I first met him... but I have managed to drag myself far enough away that the mournful howl of a lone wolf nearby is my harmony when I sing.

Perhaps, though, I shall wander back his way. I have learned a verse or two that will fit the inn's 'old song' perfectly, and mayhap if I am lucky the place where I sat and sang to please passersby will be vacant, so that I may sit there and see if he will find me again.

Please wait for me, Roy. If I had fallen with Altea, I would never have met you. Is it strange to be smitten upon first sight? I do not mind sleeping beneath the stars, but beds—whether a leaf-covered forest floor or finest feather down—are more comfortable with you beside me.

A/N: And that's that. If you want to chuck virtual tomatoes at me for filling this up with too much sap/purple prose, reviews are great places to do that. Criticism is always welcome, and... well, if you can't find anything wrong with it it's still okay to drop me a line or something. :) Cheers!