A/N: This is my attempt at an Enchanted Forest Chronicles based Soul Eater AU. If you've never read the Enchanted Forest Chronicles, well, you should-it's awesome.

As should be obvious, I own neither Soul Eater nor The Enchanted Forest Chronicles. The cover image was a birthday gift from the fantastic Foxi on tumblr.

Chapter 1

In Which Princess Maka Gets Some Bad News

Being the Princess of the Kingdom of Toure-on-Marsh wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that every little girl supposedly dreamt of being a princess who lived in an idyllic castle in an idyllic kingdom that was peaceful and prosperous. She knew that that same proverbial girl also dreamt of being courted by knights and princes and worthy woodcutter's sons. In theory, she supposed, it might not sound so bad. In reality, it was all hogwash. The truth of the matter was, being a princess was slow, sure torture via boredom.

As Maka listened to her protocol teacher drone on about the sixteen proper ways to greet a Vesuvian monarch, she considered her situation and, not for the first time, wished to trade places with whichever twit was so eager to be a princess. She was sick to death of protocol and embroidery, dance lessons and singing lessons, etiquette and fashion. She would have gladly traded stations with the lowliest scullery maid, would have scrubbed pots for the rest of her days, if it meant that her free time was her own and that she could avoid learning two hundred different types of curtsies. As it was, when she wasn't learning how to stitch a perfect rose or properly scream when carried off by a rampaging ogre, she was forced to attend stuffy, boring formal functions, balls and parties and dinners full of silly, vapid, vain suitors who waited only for the proper opportunity to rescue her, and therefore, gain the right to wed her. For, of course, if one wished to wed a princess, one had to go about it properly, and that meant a proper rescue.

Yes, she was heartily sick of doing things the right way. In fact, her only real escape was through books. While claiming to be reading up on proper princessly activities, Maka in truth absconded from the library with every other type of book she could. She absorbed them all, eager to escape from her constrained royal space and into the wide world. She read books on cooking and on history, taught herself Latin and Greek, raided the books that belonged to the court magician, read books on fencing and archery and blacksmithing and architecture and anything else she could get her hands on. Through these books, she knew how to do many things—theoretically. Some, like magic and cooking and archery, she had been able to stealthily practice. Some had been more difficult to find the means to work at. However, for all the (possibly) practical knowledge she had absorbed, the books that had truly captivated her had been the tales of adventure, of knights who went on quests, protected the weak, and saved the land. Maka was born a princess, but if she had been given a choice, a real choice, she would have been a knight.

She knew that sounded strange, even a little silly. She had met many knights, and not one of them was anything like the ones she read about in stories. They tended, on the whole, to be vain and stuffy. But she wasn't anything like any princess she had ever read about either, so she had decided that there must be knights like those in the stories since she knew that the type of sweet, kind, empty-headed princesses that she had read about in those same stories were absolutely real, as she had met several.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sudden silence. Her protocol teacher, Lady Azusa, was scowling at her.

"Ah, Princess, your hearing is finally returned. Now, then, can you remind me how one greets a Vesuvian King who has just been widowed?"

Maka just stared, her olive eyes flat. Caught daydreaming again. It would mean an earful from her father later, likely followed by his usual apologetic fawning, and Azusa would surely find some way to make her suffer for yet another transgression, but even that failed to bother her. Even that was no worse than her life of confined protocol, trapped in a gilded cage.

It wasn't until after dinner that she was called into her father's study. He had dined with his ministers, and as there were no functions, she had the rare evening to herself. She used the opportunity to quietly train with the sword she had long since snuck into her room, all the while claiming she had a headache and would be abed early that evening. When her chambermaid walked in on her, hair bound in pigtails instead of the normal shining curls her hair dresser forced onto her, dressed in breaches and tunic, swinging a sword around in the half-light, the poor girl looked like she might scream, her head turning every which way in search of what this brigand had done with her Princess. Oh, bother. How had she forgotten to lock the door?

"Tsugumi, it's me. It's Maka."

"Princess?" In the light from the hall, the woman still looked stunned, then hesitant.

"Yes, it's me," Maka repeated slowly, as if she were soothing a startled child, sheathing the sword and approaching her carefully. "I'm the princess. It's okay."

The maid nodded, her dark curls bobbing, then said timidly,

"Your fa..I mean, his Majesty, the King, wishes to see you." Maka nodded.

"Thank you, Tsugumi, I will be with him shortly. I just need to change." Maka expected the maid to run off to give her superior or the King the message, since any delay might mean trouble for the girl, but instead she went over to the large wardrobe and selected a suitable dress for her mistress to change into. When Maka looked at her questioningly, she smiled shyly.

"It's my job," she said by way of explanation. "Plus, you've gotten into enough trouble today."

"So you won't tell them about…" she waved a hand at the sword that she had just unbuckled and placed on the bed.

"I didn't tell them about all the books you sneak from the library, did I? Or the cooking we did?" Maka just smiled in response, and gave her a quick hug. Thank goodness it was Tsugumi and not some other maid. She was the closest thing the Princess had to a real friend; she should have known better than to worry over how the chambermaid would react, but she thought the sword might be a bit much even for her. For once, she was glad to be wrong.

With the chambermaid's help, she had gotten ready in a matter of minutes, a simple blue dress smoothed over her lithe frame, her dark blonde hair pinned up and topped by a circlet. She didn't really care for the circlet, but her protocol teacher insisted she wear some type of crown about the castle and especially in audience with her father, and she knew flouting convention now would only cause her more headaches. So a simple silver chain with a single small pearl rested on her brow, crown enough for inside the castle. When she entered his study, the door opened by a stiff guard and her presence announced formally, her father waved the guard away and surprised her by immediately embracing her with a wide smile. Normally, he reserved such embraces for after the lecture, and she felt the fine hairs on her neck prickle. Something was, most decidedly, wrong.

Maka peeled herself away from the exuberant red-headed monarch, eyeing him suspiciously. He wasn't even attempting a stern façade this time, his wide, fond smile beaming out at her from the few feet she had backed away. He was in his night clothes, soft blue silk underneath a white silk robe, yet still wore the heavy golden crown that signified his position. Maka had always hated that crown; jeweled and gaudy and overwrought, it reminded her of her father's own over-exuberance and overindulgences, the same tendencies that had driven her mother away. She had heard rumors and stories of her mother over the years, some of which suggested she now led a rather unconventional life, but they were only that. No one knew, in truth, what had happened to her. In many ways, Maka didn't want to know. She liked to imagine her mother had run off to have adventures of her own, but the truth was probably far more mundane, and the ex-Queen of Toure-on-Marsh was most likely the current Queen of some equally boring, tranquil land, equally as trapped as she had ever been. Just as trapped as Maka was now.

"Father," she began suspiciously, but cautiously, "it's good to see you. Is there.. something you needed?" His face fell at her tone and he cleared his throat.

"Mmmm… yes, actually. You will be leaving on a small tour of the Kingdom tomorrow, starting with the village of Kempe. Tsugami will help you to pack your things, but you should bring what you will need for an indefinite stay."

"In..definite?" Maka stuttered out.

"Uh, yes, that's the hope. You see, Lady Azusa has it on good authority that a dragon plans to raid the village tomorrow and we thought…"

"You thought what...?" She cut him off, appalled, her eyes narrowed in anger as she realized what they were plotting. "You want me to be captured by a dragon, don't you? To…to what? Be rescued and married off like some piece of meat? Forget it, no."

"But.. well… we thought you might like it. You've seemed do discontented here. We thought a change of scenery might…"

"I said no. I don't want to be some dragon's princess, left to cower in a cave until some idiot prince stumbles into the mountains to try to rescue me and gain your kingdom through marriage. No." She knew her voice was firm. She had dreaded, absolutely dreaded, the day when they would figure out a way to trap her into marrying. She was an only child, the only heir, and a princess. She was expected to marry, and at 20, expected to do so sooner than later. In some ways, she was surprised they had waited this long and she thanked every lucky star that her father was torn between protocol and his own personal desire that no vile, lecherous beast ever lay his hands on his baby girl, as ironic as that was coming from the most vile, lecherous beast in the kingdom. Maka wasn't sure what Azusa had finally said or done to convince him, but apparently, protocol had finally won out and they had concocted this…scheme was the only word for it. What to do now? She needed time to think. No way was she going to let some silly wannabe-hero rescue her, but King or not, even Spirit listened to Azusa. Now that he had finally agreed, there was no backing down. The woman was scary when crossed. If the protocol master was pushing this, then it was as good as done. The King stepped closer and Maka almost sighed as she recognized the stern face he put on when one of the nobles was making unreasonable demands-or when he felt that she required correction.

"You don't have a choice," he said, his voice firm. She could sense the regret in his tone, but it was only just audible. "Being a dragon's princess will help to finish off your education nicely and ensure your marriage to a suitable husband and future King." He raised a hand when she opened her mouth to protest, "your several times over Great-Grandmother, Queen Alianora, was a dragon's Princess when she was rescued by your many times Great-Grandfather King Stone, who helped build what was then a Duchy into a true Kingdom. The stories say she always insisted that what she learned there helped to make her a better Queen. You will make a good Queen someday, Maka, and this will help you in that." Maka considered trying to persuade her father that this was a mistake, but she could see it in the way his blue-green eyes wouldn't quite meet hers that this was decided, so she remained silent. Better to save her time and her breath to figure out what else to do. Her father was rarely firm with her, but when he was, there was no swaying him.

The King walked past her to the door, opening it and motioning the guard to re-enter.

"Escort the Princess to her room and keep a watch on her," he commanded. "And Maka, sweetheart? I will see you in the morning before you leave. Goodnight."

A few moments ater the door shut softly behind her, she heard giggling erupt and cringed. So he'd had one of his many conquests in the wings. It figured. Her trepidation over, this new turn of events momentarily replaced by disgust, she followed the guard, head held high, looking every inch the Princess.

Morning. She had until morning to figure out how she was going to get out of this.