Garwin looked up in surprise as the king stormed out of the councilroom, a look of barely muted fury on his face. Garwin had not been allowed to attend the session due to his lack of a pedigree, but he had been able to make out Angel's speech, and been delighted to hear how well it was received. Unfortunately, it looked as though Angel's father had been somewhat less impressed. Even less fortunately, he spied Garwin sitting in the corner.
"You," he snarled, "What are you doing here, hanging around like the worthless pup you are?"
"I, I was waiting for Angel-" Garwin realized his mistake too late, and his head cracked back at the force of the king's blow to his jaw.
"What did you say?"
"I'm sorry, I meant I was waiting for Alaric-" The king's fist lashed out again, causing Garwin to stumble.
"I was waiting for His Royal Highness," Garwin mumbled through the blood in his mouth. Seizing him by the hair, the king threw Garwin to the ground. Nearby sentries stirred uneasily, but they could hardly prevent the king from disciplining his own servant.
"That's right," the king ground out, his face a mask of fury. "He...is...your...prince." Each word was accompanied by a kick to Garwin's side. Garwin could feel his ribs breaking, but didn't say a word, hoping silence would make him stop sooner.
"His mother thought it was a good thing for you two to be friends. His mother also thought 'Angel'," his face twisted in distaste at the name, "was a suitable nickname for our nation's prince and one day leader. His mother thought it was a good idea to allow you," his fist threw Garwin back against the wall, "a sniveling little forsaken bastard, to be his constant companion." Garwin's vision was becoming gray around the edges, and he closed his eyes only to see starbursts behind his eyelids. "Well, my boy, that will all change soon. You aren't going to follow the 'happy couple' around after the wedding. You don't deserve to be happy, to even witness happiness, because you don't even deserve to live. Let's never forget how worthless you really are."That was when Garwin fainted.
****
Worn out from wandering aimlessly through myriad hallways, Willow paused when she heard a man's furious grunt. Curious, she looked round a corner in the direction of the noise.
There she saw Angel's father, pounding his fists into a bloody and apparently unconscious Garwin. With a horrified gasp, she ran forward unthinkingly, grabbing the king and pulling him away from her wounded friend. Willow may have looked delicate, but years of assisting in the tasks of slaying gave her an unusual power, and the king almost fell as she threw him off Garwin's inert form. He looked at her in shock for a moment, then his face darkened in fury.
"Are you crazy?" she gasped angrily, trying at the same time to ascertain the extent of Garwin's wounds.
She looked at the king in horror. "What did he do? What did he do to deserve this? You- horrible, horrible man! How could you do this to your son's best friend? He's served your family loyally his whole life, and this is how you repay him? What could he have possibly done to you?"
For a moment, she thought the king might turn on her, so menacing was his face and figure. She saw him clench his hands in incredible rage, but by some miracle, he restrained himself. His white-knuckled fists slowly uncurled, his fingers trembling in trapped emotion. Then he answered her.
"What did he do? He exists. He lives and breathes." Suddenly, he spat contemptuously on Garwin's slumped body. With a look at Willow, daring her to provoke him any further, he turned away and walked down the hall. With a flick of his wrist, he flung away a few drops of Garwin's blood that still clung to his hand.
"Good e'en, Princess," he called back without turning, his voice heavy with disgust.
Righteous ire rose in Willow's breast, but she forgot it as Garwin emitted a low moan at her feet. Heedless of his blood, she knelt beside him, her face pale and tight with worry. "Garwin? Can you hear me? It's Willow. The...the princess. Are you alright? No, that's a stupid question. Are you conscious? Oh, Garwin, please be okay. Please, wake up, say something." She clutched his hand tightly, wishing for a sign that his injuries weren't as bad as she already suspected.
"Your Highness." His voice was rough and thick with pain, but he tried to look up at her face. "I'm sorry you had to see that-"
Willow interrupted him with a sound that was half sob, half laugh of relief. "Garwin, Garwin! Thank goodness. I can't believe this happened here, in my home, in my father's palace."
"It's not _your_ father I need to worry about," Garwin muttered, wry even in his battered state.
"Garwin, why didn't you try and stop him?"
"Strike my king? I may be in pain, Princess, but I didn't want to risk a hanging offense just to keep my ribs intact."
"He broke your ribs? Oh, Garwin, he belongs on the hellmouth, not here."
"Hellmouth?" He asked in confusion. Pretending not to hear him, Willow gently pressed her lips to his bloody forehead.
That was how Angel found them.
****
His head still reeling from all the congratulations he had received, Angel let out a sigh as he stepped into the hall. When he saw the two figures on the floor, however, the sigh was turned into a choked gasp and he flew to Willow's side.
"What happened here- Garwin?!" he recognized his friend in horror, wincing at his injuries. There was a time when the sight of so much blood would have made him weak with hunger, but that time was past, and he could only feel shock at the sight of his friend's crumpled body. "Who did this? Who laid a hand on you? I'll teach them to-"
"It was your father," Willow interrupted, her voice more sad than angry. "I found him here, beating him, but he was already on the ground. Garwin had already fallen, and he was still hitting him over and over..." Her voice began to crack, and Angel took her into his embrace, one hand still resting on Garwin's shoulder.
"Garwin, we need to move you into my chambers," Angel said quietly, squeezing Willow's arm in silent support.
"That's right. We need to have him moved. I can do something about that." Willow gave Angel a grateful smile, then left the shelter of his arm to walk over to the nearest guardsman. "You," she barked harshly. "Go get help. Now." The man began walking down the hall. "RUN!" she commanded, and the man dashed away hurriedly. Stalking over to the next man, she glared up into his face, though she was more than a foot shorter than him. "What are you about, to have let this occur right under your very nose?" she demanded furiously.
"The king," the soldier began weakly, but Willow cut him off with a fierce shake of her head.
"Don't give me any weak excuses. The council room is all of two paces away, you couldn't go in and ask for help? Maybe you are forbidden to restrain the king, but my father could have helped you! Instead, you chose to stand here like a statue, to watch as my good friend was attacked by my fiance's father! What can you say in your defense? Are you so braindead that you couldn't think of any course of action more useful than pretending to be inanimate? I am disgusted by you, by all of you!" she cried, gesturing to every other guard in sight.
"Why do you think you carry weapons? As jewelry? It is your job to protect people, not watch as they are brutally beaten! I am sickened by your apathy, and by all rights, you should be flung out of the palace like the spineless scum you are."
Angel couldn't help but hearken back to the time when he himself had felt the burn of Willow's ire. Still, looking at Garwin lying helplessly on the ground, he felt no pity for the sentries.
"And yet, for all that I would wish to exact my revenge for your tremendous displays of cowardice, I am, in the end, a princess. However I may criticize you, it is my duty by blood to rise above my emotions. I know well that you may have families that might suffer if I were to discharge you in disgrace, that you may have elderly mothers who depend upon your wages. Therefore, as much as my friendship with this man screams against it, I will not discharge you. I will merely assign you to extra guard duty for the next six months, cut your rations in half and issue a proclamation that any man that acts in such a feeble manner in the future will suffer much stiffer consequences."
The soldiers imperceptibly slumped in relief. "Don't _ever_ let it happen again, understood?" Willow's voice was impossibly chilly. The men nodded frantically, and each bowed at her feet to kiss the hem of her robe before going slinking away in shame. One soldier remained, his face resigned.
"Highness, I beg of you, I must speak."
Willow glared at him. "You think my judgement too harsh for the enormity of your crime?"
"No, Princess, in fact, I think you are overly generous to me. I have no family, my mother is in good health, and I think it right that you should discharge me, for I have betrayed my duty and my intentions. I deserve no leniency, and it is not just that I should accept it."
Willow's face softened as she studied the man. He was quite young for a guard, now that she looked closer. He couldn't be more than a year or two older than herself. Back in Sunnydale, they probably would have taken classes together. "Wherefore do you seek the wrath of a princess?" she asked quietly.
"I know too well the plight of your friend there," he said softly, gesturing towards Garwin. "My stepfather used to beat me and my younger brother cruelly. I longed all my life to become a soldier so that I could be stronger than him, so that I could protect my family from his violence. When he died, he left my mother well-off, and I was free to come to the palace. I came here to become a brave man, a man who would never harm anyone who couldn't fight back...
I am ashamed, because I let my own memories stifle me just now. All the months of training, all my shiny good intentions, and none of it has done any good at all. When the king attacked, I could only see my stepfather striking my brother as he did for so many years, and as much as I wanted to stop him, I knew that if I intervened he would be able to kill me easily-" his voice faltered, and his head dropped. "I am here to stop it from happening to others, and now I have failed in the only objective of my occupation. I have failed you as my princess, your father as my king, and most of all, I have failed this man because he reminded me of myself."
Willow halted his confession by placing her hand on his sleeve. "The wounds of childhood cannot be erased. I shall not send you away, because to be perfectly honest, we need more men of your make amongst our numbers. If you truly wish to make amends, you may be Garwin's personal sentry while he recuperates. Your regular duties shall be forfeit as you guard his life with your own. You may not have saved him this time, but it is possible that you shall in the future."
The soldier looked into her eyes, and she saw that tears had made their way down his face. "Princess, I-" he stopped, eyes widening, and even from behind, Angel figured he was getting a dose of the redhead's willpower. "I would be honored."
Willow nodded at him. "You may stand guard while we wait for assistance to arrive. Forget your shame, and focus on your new responsibilities." Releasing his arm, she walked back to kneel beside Angel.
"Check out the princess," he murmured, half teasing and half in awe.
"Yeah, well, when in Rome," she replied with a smile. "It's just like learning a foreign language, only it's still...English. Just more Giles-y."
Angel looked at her speculatively. "You seemed pretty comfortable in your authority, though. That has nothing to do with speech patterns."
Willow's eyes registered confusion when she looked into his own. "What do you mean?"
"I just-" he broke off as palace healers rushed into the hall.
"Here he is. Help him," Willow commanded, though an undercurrent of worry and helplessness surfaced in her voice. As Garwin was prodded and examined, she held his head in her lap, stroking his hair, ignoring the blood that had formed it into clumps. Seeing that there was not much he could do, Angel determined to make himself useful in a somewhat different capacity.
"Willow, Garwin, if you could excuse me, there is someone I must talk to." Willow's nod was slightly reproachful, but Garwin immediately understood Angel's veiled meaning. "Your Highness, don't-"
"Don't call me 'your highness'. Call me Angel like you're supposed to, and trust me. All may not be well, but I won't do anything too stupid." Garwin looked doubtful, but he waved his hand in dismissal. Smiling grimly at his injured friend, Willow finally understood his intentions as Angel set off to find his father.