Author's Note: Sorry to anyone waiting for a new Intoxication chapter. I got distracted by finishing this idea. This story has been percolating in the back of my brain for about a year, but I hesitated to write it because of its darker nature. I would categorize this fic as dub-con, meaning dubious consent. If that is a trigger for anyone, then please do not read. This story is meant to be for entertainment and I'm not out to upset anyone. It is rated M for a reason.

I'm aware that this fic bears some similarities to Evil Orange Crayon's T-rated fic "Monster Takes the Crown". I let EOC know about this fic and got the go ahead to proceed. Any similarities are coincidence and the product of two similarly naughty minded writers. :-P No copying is intended. I also strongly suggest you go read her story as well because it's awesome.

This is a three chapter short story.

Foretold: Chapter One

Cedric twirled the stem of his wine glass through his fingers, thoroughly indifferent to the conversation going on around him. These dinners always bored him. When anyone of any importance came to visit Enchancia the higher levels of staff were expected to attend. If the visiting dignitary was a general or aristocrat he could have begged off, but not when their guest was of a magical background.

Cecylia Kumiega, silly name, but fitting as he found her to be a silly woman. She claimed to be clairvoyant. He didn't give one whit of credence to divination. Seers in his mind were the snake oil salesman of the magic trade. The royal family, though, seemed deeply enthralled with the woman.

"Can you tell me who I'll marry?" Amber nearly squealed.

"Oh no," Cecylia smiled down at the child. "All in due time, my dear. Besides, a girl your age shouldn't be concerned with such things yet."

James laughed outright, nearly upsetting his milk. "Are you kidding? That's all Amber lives for, to be the most powerful queen with the biggest castle and the best kingdom."

"Shut it, James," his sister hissed, flushing with embarrassment.

"Manners, Amber," their father chided lightly. "Don't talk that way in front of our guest."

"It's quite alright," Cecylia soothed. She shifted her attention to the youngest child. "And what about you Little Sofia? You haven't asked about your future. Is there no peek into the veil you'd like to make?"

The littlest princess scrunched her brow in thought. "With all respect Miss Kumiega, I don't think that there is."

The Seer smiled fondly down at the girl. "How unusual. Most children pester me with questions, but not you. Are you so content to wait for whatever will come?"

The clairvoyant's tone could be construed as impertinent, but she was in such earnest that the King didn't move to correct her.

"Well," Sofia said thoughtfully, "Mr. Cedric says divination isn't a real branch of magic. He says predictions of the future can't be trusted."

"Sofia," Queen Miranda began.

"It is all right," Cecylia raised a hand to stop the queen's reprimand. "It is not a child's fault if her teachers are blind."

Cedric pushed his plate away, sitting back with his arms crossed. "Blind? How very droll. I suppose I am blind because you can see so much more, including things that have not even happened yet."

"I was born with a gift I did not ask for. I denied my visions for many years, believing myself half mad. It was only when I embraced my gifts that I began to live the life fate intended for me, and one I am happy with."

"My congratulations," he rolled his eyes. "But forgive me if I've seen nothing in my life to give credence to your prophesies."

The rest of the table had grown quiet while the two lobed barbs at each other. The king and queen shared a nervous glance. Princess Sofia shifted in her seat, uneasy having started the discussion. James sat forward, eager to see fireworks. Even Amber appeared mildly interested.

"My mother had a saying, 'one cannot argue with ignorance'. I have met many people of the same mind as you, Mr. Cedric. No amount of proof will convince you. You will see what you wish to see and no more."

"How convenient," he sneered.

"Mr. Cedric," Cecylia smiled indulgently. "I could tell you your future very precisely and you would still claim it was a coincidence, or a self-fulfilling prophecy due to planted suggestion. Why waste my time?"

He cocked his right eyebrow. "Try me."

She looked to the king for guidance, but he merely shrugged. Roland was as interested as anyone else to see if the rumors of Cecylia Kumiega's gifts were indeed true.

"Very well." She leaned forward on her elbows, looking the sorcerer directly in the eyes.

Cedric squirmed in his chair, finding it intensely uncomfortable to meet the woman's intense gaze. He watched her brow furrow, her eyes squinting as if in a sudden pain. The room grew tense and quiet. A voice in the back of his head told him that it was all for dramatic effect, but the way she looked at him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul, unnerved him.

Her reaction came all at once. She gasped, her eyes widening into large saucers as the color drained from her face. Her lips twisted in a disgusted snarl and she eyed him as if she saw something that caused her fear.

"What?" King Roland leaned forward, no longer amused by this display.

Cecylia recovered quickly, but Cedric could see she was still shaken. "I, um, couldn't see anything. I'm sorry."

Cedric eyed her strangely. She was lying. A trickle of doubt crept into his mind. He'd never believed in the power of clairvoyance, but he felt uneasy all of a sudden.

Cecylia wiped her mouth with a napkin. "But I do seem to have given myself a bit of a headache. If your majesties will excuse me, I believe I'll go lie down for a bit."

"Of course," Roland and Miranda stood, allowing their guest to exit.

"I think you upset her, Mr. Cedric," Sofia whispered across the table.

"I'm sure being exposed as a fraud is upsetting," he groused.

"You really believe she's a fraud?" Roland said, taking his seat. "Her talents are said to be world-renowned. King Alfonso consults her on all matters concerning his kingdom."

"And yet their kingdom is not nearly so prosperous as Enchancia." Cedric gave the king an oily smile. "How fortunate that our king has better sense."

"Still," Roland took a sip of wine. "The chance to look into the future, to know your kingdom will grow and prosper, who wouldn't want that."

Cedric smiled, as if enjoying his own private joke. "Who indeed, Sire."

Cedric walked the long distance to his tower, relieved to finally be free of the polite, empty drivel that made up state dinners. Everyone was so afraid to step on the toes of anyone else that is made for stated, bland conversation. He preferred the company of books, written by authors long dead, to the milquetoast sentiments of the living.

He was almost to his door when he noticed the dark outline of a person hiding in the shadows. "Who's there?" He grasped his wand, and tried to look threatening.

"No need to be alarmed," the soft strains of a woman's voice surprised him. Cecylia Kumiega stepped into the light, her hands out in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to alarm you. I came to speak with you."

He lowered his wand, feeling foolish. "What are you doing here?" He snapped, upset to be caught off guard.

"May we speak inside, please?" She gestured to his door. "I don't think this is a conversation you want overheard."

"I think here will do just fine. I assure you there is nothing you could say that is of any consequence to me."

"Very well," her smile was closer to a sneer. "I came to tell you that you must stop pursuing the Amulet of Avalor."

His eyes searched the hallway automatically, afraid now that someone would hear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Amulet of Avalor," she spoke up, loud enough for her voice to echo off the empty walls. "The jewel that Princess Sofia wears around her neck. The jewel you're intent on stealing to make yourself king."

"Merlin's ghost, lower your voice," he hissed, unlocking the tower door. "Get in here."

"I thought so," she smiled sweetly.

Once safely ensconced inside his workshop, he turned on her. "What is it you're playing at?"

"I already told you, I see the future."

He snorted in disbelief, but she forged on. "I saw your future if you keep pursing this mad dream to rule the kingdom."

"And why would you concern yourself to help me? I think you're a fraud."

"It gives me no pleasure to come here. If it were only your own downfall I saw in my vision then I would gladly leave you to your fate. But there are other lives at stake."

"What is this really about?" He asked, suspicious. "Blackmail, is that it? Don't bother. I haven't admitted anything, and you have no proof. Unlike the ignorant dullards out there, I don't fall for your whole 'I can see the future' charade."

"How did I know about the amulet then?"

"It's an obscure piece of information, to be sure, but you could have come upon it somewhere."

"I meant, how did I know you were planning on stealing it?" She hissed through her teeth.

"I already told you, I've admitted nothing." He stepped back, regarding her with new eyes. "Or perhaps you're here to steal the amulet yourself."

"Don't be absurd," she sneered. "Besides, I wouldn't stoop so low as to steal from children." Her eyes flashed.

He crossed his arms, "Yes, you just swindle adults out of their money, I'm sure, with your portends of the 'future'. I think we're done here. If you would kindly see yourself out." He waved his hand dismissively and turned his back on her.

She grabbed his arm and her grip was firm. "You must not steal the amulet. You will bring ruin on the entire kingdom."

He tore away from her grip, unnerved by her intensity. "I believe I already told you, you can leave now."

She didn't pay any attention. She was staring at the far wall, her eyes moving rapidly back and forth. "No," she whispered. "You won't have to steal it."

"What are you on about?" He waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello?"

"So many lives," she whispered. "So many. And her, how could you do this to her?"

"Excuse me? Her? Who in the hell are you talking about?"

Cecylia shook herself suddenly, snapping back from wherever she had been. The look in her eyes made him uneasy. "You have to believe me," she beseeched.

"I don't believe any of this," he swallowed thickly, unnerved. "But I do believe I told you to get out."

He went for the door, intending to throw her out if necessary. She stopped him, grabbing his arm hard enough to pull him back around to face her. He believed her insane, out of her damn mind, even more so when she grabbed his face in both hands.

For a moment he thought she was going to try to kiss him, but instead she pressed her forehead against his hard enough to hurt and whispered, "Widziec."

Cedric moved to push her away, but she was suddenly gone. The air in front of him was empty, as if she'd vanished. In fact, everything around him was different. He looked all around recognizing where he was but completely baffled as to how he got there. He was in the royal throne room, and it was bright day instead of evening. What in the world?

A solder stood before of him, giving some kind of report. The man looked down at the floor as if afraid to meet his eye. Cedric tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but he couldn't make a sound.

The soldier was saying, "Sire, we destroyed the peasant rebellion, just as you ordered."

"Were there any casualties?" Cedric felt himself ask.

"Eleven men, three women, and one child, sir."

Cedric recoiled at the cold efficiency of the solder's report, speaking of dead women and children like so much collateral. But his voice said, "Good, perhaps they're finally learning."

He saw the solder's jaw tighten.

"Something you'd care to say, General?"

The solder shook his head, a tight gesture that belied his disgust. "No, Sire."

"Any prisoners?"

"Eighteen, Sire. They surrendered."

"Schedule their execution for the morning." Cedric waved his hand. "You're dismissed."

The general gave a truncated bow shallow enough to almost be an insult and clicked his heels. "Sire."

Cedric watched the general's retreating back. He contemplated having him punished for his insubordination, but there were so few men of fighting condition left in the kingdom. Most had died in ill-conceived rebellions against his rise to power. General Andrews was never meant to be a leader, but he was the best of Cedric's bad choices.

He looked down at his folded hands, feeling tired. The other Cedric, the one still wondering what in the hell was going on, saw the faint, purple glow of the Amulet of Avalor on his chest.

The amulet.

The Seer.

This was the vision she foretold. He'd refused to believe her words so she'd pulled him into this vision to show him first hand. This was powerful magic.

But it was true. He'd done it. He'd gotten possession of the amulet and taken over the kingdom. The throne room was his throne room now. He was king. Elation surged through him. But what had that solder said about a peasant rebellion? Fifteen people dead, one of them a child. Eighteen prisoners scheduled to die in the morning. He's ordered their execution as casually as ordering his morning breakfast.

Is this what Cecylia meant? This was the terrible future she'd predicted. She said he'd bring ruin to the entire kingdom. His confused thoughts were swept aside when King Cedric stood and walked over to the open window.

The village stood below, but changed. Several of the houses had been destroyed, burned from the look of it. Below in the castle courtyard nothing moved, not a single servant or gardener going about their duties. The whole palace seemed eerily quiet.

The Cedric of the present could feel his consciousness sinking into the vision. He could feel what his future self felt and what he thought.

This latest rebellion was the most recent in a never-ending string of fighting that began the day he ascended to the throne. He didn't want to kill his own people. If they would just bow down and accept his rule then he could be the benevolent leader he always wanted to be. They could love him, if they just gave him a chance.

He sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. A loneliness consumed him. He was universally despised with enemies on all sides. At first other kingdoms had tried to come to Enchancia's aid, but the amulet afforded him a terrible power that he did not fully understand and know how to wield. In the beginning he'd cause immeasurable, albeit unintended damage. He hadn't a single friend or ally now. Even his servants served only out of fear.

He had one last respite. One bastion of solace. And he was losing even her.

King Cedric turned, striding out of the room with more confidence than he felt. The hallways were empty. He heard the scurrying of feet and the quiet shutting of door. Every servant fled his path. He passed a mirror hanging on the wall and paused to take in his appearance. He appeared older, more careworn. Threads of grey webbed his black hair, but he looked immaculate in his royal attire. The Amulet of Avalor lay pinned over his heart like a medal of valor. The purple jewel pulsed with a sickly green glow, like an infected heart. His eyes were hollow and dark. The loneliness sitting in his chest threatened to suffocate him.

He continued on down the hall until he came to a door flanked by guards. They were superfluous given the numerous magic charms surrounding the room, but his omnipresent paranoia feared the loss of his second most precious possession. He wondered how much the power of the amulet would matter to him if he lost her.

Her? Present Cedric was still cognizant enough to recognize the significance of his future self's thoughts. Was this the her Cecylia spoke of?

King Cedric dismissed the guards with a wave. He didn't have anything to fear from her. She'd already hurt him every way that mattered. His hand shook when he grasped the door knob. A wave of guilt and desire warred inside him. He pushed the guilt viciously down, opening the door.

The room was awash with opulence. A gilt cage, but a cage nonetheless. The prisoner wanted for nothing except the one thing she couldn't have: her freedom. He looked across the polished marble floor, past the four poster bed piled high with satin coverlet and lace trimmed pillows, past the white pianoforte she no longer played, past the claw-footed tub that reminded him of better times between them, to the woman seated on the window seat, staring at the horizon with undisguised longing.

Days passed in such a way for her.

They used to talk back when she still believed his half-truths, omissions and outright lies, back when she believed this all a terrible mistake, back when she believed he had a heart worth reaching. For years he kept her sequestered away, ignorant of his darker misdeeds. Still, she wasn't a complete fool. She knew the amulet had corrupted him, or perhaps it was the other way around. She held out hope far longer than anyone could be expected, desperately trading her love and eventually her body, hoping to fill the void where the power of the amulet resided.

The loss of hope came gradually. Now he only came here when the crushing weight of loneliness consumed him. Being with her now, the empty shell she had become was almost worse that being without her. Almost.

Author's Note: Cecylia's name was just a spelling I liked. It's of Polish origin so I ran with it for her last name, which means "friend". I also made up the name of the king who is her patron. Widziec is Polish for "see".

The next chapter is rated M.