Ready, Aim, Fire

By Laura Schiller

Based on: The Swan Princess

Copyright: DreamWorks

Derek knew by the look on Odette's face that he was in trouble. Her blue eyes flashed, her lips were set in a thin line, and her long blond hair bounced with every step as she strode across the courtyard toward him. He had been planning to steal her away for a quiet, romantic picnic in the gardens before his council meeting, but that possibility did not appear very likely. He glanced down at the picnic basket in his hands, hoping the kitchen staff hadn't included any tomatoes. He remembered all too well how deadly his wife's aim could be.

"Is it true," she demanded, without preamble, "That while I was under the spell, you were using the servants for target practice?"

He blinked. That was unexpected.

"Where … where did you hear that?"

Odette's hands went to her hips. Her elegant voice took on a tone of steel when she answered: "Just now. From Hans Meyer."

"The - flute player?" The five-pointer, he almost said.

She nodded. "He ran after me in the hallway, kissed my hand, and told me how overjoyed he was to see me return because 'he wouldn't have to be the duck anymore'. When I asked him to explain, he told me about some – some game you and Bromley used to play … please, Derek, tell me it's not true."

Her appealing look was almost worse than her anger. He thought of Hans collapsing after that last practice session and felt a twinge of guilt; but really, it wasn't Derek's fault that the man was such an easy target.

"Calm down, Odette," he said, deciding to take a reasonable approach. "It's all right. They weren't real arrows, obviously. They had powder bags at the tips, to keep score, you know. Nobody was hurt, I promise you. It was just a game."

"That's not what I meant." Odette folded her arms, defensive now as well as angry. "Of course it was just a game to you, but how do you think they felt, running around in animal costumes while you and Bromley shot powdered arrows at them?"

"I know." He shrugged. "It must have been embarrassing, I suppose. But you do realize," he threw up his hands, "I needed to practice. Not just to prepare for the great animal, but just to do something instead of going crazy … "

A sardonic arch of Odette's eyebrow seemed to imply that his sanity was a matter of opinion.

"You couldn't have practiced at the target range instead? Or even on real animals?"

Derek blushed. "I've been using that target range since I was six," he admitted. "It's boring. No challenge whatsoever. And as for real animals, well … Max warned me not to hunt them too often, so I wouldn't disturb the balance of the forest. He knows what he's talking about. He is the gamekeeper after all."

At the mention of the forest, Odette drew her folded arms a little tighter around herself. Her shoulders hunched, her head bowed; along with her wide-sleeved white gown, she reminded him hauntingly of her swan form.

"You don't know what it feels like to be hunted," she said quietly. "You have no idea."

"Oh, my God … "

In one sickening rush, the true meaning of her words caught up to him. He remembered sighting that swan in the air, the fierce joy that had surged through him believing he would finally kill the Great Animal. This one's for Odette, he'd said, and the irony made him queasy. He could have killed her.

"Odette, I'm so sorry. I – you're right, I shouldn't have … I got so carried away … "

"You always do." Odette's tone was still sarcastic, but for the first time, there was the barest hint of a smile. "Remember the year you were thirteen and I was eleven? You and Bromley didn't simply form a club against me, you had to build an entire tree house. By yourselves."

"Well, you knocked it down."

"And broke my own arm in the crash." Her wry smile widened. "I'd have thought the two of us would be beyond petty arguments by now. Apology accepted."

She put a gentle hand on his arm. He seized the advantage by linking arms with her and leading her in the direction of the gardens.

"You, um … you don't expect me to give up shooting, do you?" he ventured to say.

Odette looked away. "I mean," he continued, shrugging with his free arm, "It's what I'm good at. The only thing I'm good at, as we both know."

"Don't say that!" The warmth of her defense was reassuring, given the many times she had listed his flaws for him when they were younger. "You're intelligent. I saw you in that fight with Rothbart – I may have been weak, but I wasn't blind. You think on your feet, you make weapons out of whatever's at hand. And I know how patient and kind you are with Brom and your mother. You'd be … "

She trailed off, looking thoughtfully into the distance, a tiny frown line between her eyebrows. It was the same look she used to have before cleaning him out at poker.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"I have an idea." She giggled. "A substantial idea, as General Puffin would say."

"What is it?"

"Why don't you help to train the squires? And the palace guards? Anyone who needs it, really. You'd make a great teacher."

Derek stopped. He thought about it. Then he put down the picnic basket he still carried, so he could pick his wife up with both arms and swirl her around.

"You're a genius!" he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Yes, I can do that. We'll have the finest defense force on the continent by the time I get through with them. And Rogers can finally stop nagging me to do something useful!"

Odette shook her tousled hair out of her eyes and tapped him on the shoulder. "That's the idea. Now put me down, you oaf!"

"Make me," he taunted, just as he had when they were children.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him so hard, his knees went weak. He had to set her down quickly, otherwise they might both have collapsed.

"You fight dirty, Your Majesty," he gasped, as soon as he could catch his breath.

"I learned from the best." She batted her eyelashes at him.

"I have another idea," he said, more seriously this time. "I think we should dig up every book about the Forbidden Arts we can find. When our parents banned those books, I know they meant well, but what we don't know … "

"What we don't know can hurt us," Odette agreed.

"No more Rothbarts in our kingdom." Derek said it like a vow, holding both her hands. "Not if we can help it."

"And no more human target practice. Let's treat our subjects with the dignity they deserve. Promise?"

"I promise," said Derek.

They both knew by now, better than anyone, how important it was to keep a promise.

This was one he would not break.