Albatross
Based on the song by Judy Collins

Part 1
Once upon a time, there lived a princess in an ivy-covered castle on an island. The grassy island was barely big enough to hold the castle. The mainland, just a few miles away, sent everything the people of the castle would need or want, especially for the princess, via underwater transport. Beloved and beautiful, she was courted by proud princes from near and far.
“Princess Darai,” called Sigra, “though I’m sure the channel and the mainland are just fascinating, you have suitors to attend to.” Darai jumped as her head handmaid brought her out of her daydreaming while she quietly brushed her long, lavender hair.
She forced a polite smile. “Thank you, Sigra, I’ll be right down.”
“Okay, dearie, I’ll be close by if you’ll be needing anything.” The aged servant left to rest in her quarters with the other servants. After months of sitting through meetings with bragging princes, Darai had learned that it mattered little what she wore. They were so concentrated on showing off that they took nearly no notice of her. Even when she wore jewels or gowns given to her by a returning prince, none cared. She was not acknowledged as anything other than a potential, additional jewel in their crowns or a way to carry on their names in the next generation.

After changing into a comfortable dress, Darai walked slowly to greet her visitors, dreading the boring day. All the princes were the same; all accents or culturally distinguishing marks were obscured by a strong air of self-importance.
All of them, except Esquenaldo. For years, he had been a close friend of Darai’s. He often joined her in meeting with the suitors, partly to check them out himself. Though many knew of Esquenaldo’s preference, nobody, especially the conservative wealthy, spoke openly about it. His friendship and humor made these days with the pompous princes much more bearable.
“Esquenaldo!” Darai was very glad to see him today.
“Hey, girlfriend! Nice dress!” he teased, making the other princes feel both uncomfortable and unnoticed enough to step forward and boastfully greet Darai. She quickly nodded and curtseyed to them, then grabbed Esquenaldo and dragged him to sit beside her. The young men stood around them, bickering over who had the most prestigious kingdoms, over who could best take Darai away from her lonely unmarried state, over who brought her the best gifts to show off their wealth. They didn’t notice that the two were having their own conversation.
“I can’t stand sitting through their bragging. Notice none of them actually do anything like fight the sea monsters or help the poor.”
“Oh come on, you’ve got to at least enjoy looking that them,” Esquenaldo said, absentmindedly twirling a dark blue curl around his finger. “Have some fun.”
“Like how you had fun with the Prince of Iambal at the last ball?”
“What Prince of Iambal?”
“The one standing over there, pretending not to see you.” She pointed, knowing nobody would notice, but turned to see Esquenaldo had run off to her room. The street-smart servants knew he was harmless and enjoyed his vivacious aura, so they did nothing to hinder him.

That afternoon, once the princes had been dismissed, Darai returned to her room, frustrated.
“I’m surprised you didn’t come back,” she said to Esquenaldo. “Didn’t you see him on the transport on your way here?”
“I didn’t take their transport, it was full. I came with the deliveries of rice.” No ships or boats were ever used. The vicious sea monsters attacked anything on the surface of the sea. A great naval war had been launched years ago to wipe them out after losing many fishing ships; that had only angered them more. Large iron vehicles used a road along the floor of the channel to transport everything back and forth. They went too deep for the light-attracted monsters to take notice.
“Anyway,” Darai continued, “I think that running away was a great way of catching his eye.”
“Oh come on, Dar, there’s no way anything other than a few moments in a dark hallway could ever happen.”
“Why don’t we just escape all this and marry each other? We both could be left alone, no more expectations and princes. Well, at least the princes for me.”
Esquenaldo giggled at that, but he was as lonely for a true companion as she. “No, I wouldn’t want a marriage as a lie, as an escape.”
“You’re right, marrying for love would be better. What if we got married and then one or both of us found a prince, a true prince who could hold your heart in his hand and make you forget that there ever was anything to escape?” She trailed off in her own hopeful dreams, but then sobered. “What if there is no prince? Thanks for coming today, but I think I just want to be alone for now.”
“No problem, I’ll seeya next time.”

Part 2

Sigra could hear Princess Darai crying through the door. Having been her nursemaid, her guardian, and her head handmaid, she loved Darai dearly. She thought of the princess as her daughter; to Darai, Sigra felt more like her mother than the queen, who was prevented from intimacy by the restrictions of royal life, ever had. Though Sigra desperately wanted to go and comfort the distraught princess, it would hurt herself too much. Her children were already grown and Darai would be married off soon, which would be painful enough.

But, she knew that Darai needed someone to comfort her. The queen was out of the question; not only was it not Sigra’s place to tell her to overstep unspoken class rules and do her motherly duty, but there was no bond between them. Surely she was asleep anyway. Esquenaldo was too far, she would probably have cried herself to sleep by the time he would arrive. No, a woman would relate more. Sigra ran through her mind all the young handmaids Darai knew, who would be the best listener. She startled when Gwen came up the stairs, sent by another senior servant to see why Sigra was still up there.
“Gwen!” she whispered as she realized she would be the best comforter.
“Yes, ma’am?” Gwen gasped, taken aback by Sigra’s urgent tone.
“Go on in and see if there is anything the princess might need,” she ordered. The meek girl wondered why Sigra didn’t do so herself, but obeyed silently. She tiptoed inside.

When she realized that someone had come in, Darai pulled herself up out of her distress enough to recognize Gwen, the shy but gentle servant. She was timidly standing by the door. Though Darai didn’t know her as well as Sigra and other, more outgoing maids, she understood that the good-natured young woman was there to help.
“Do you need help with anything, princess?” Gwen squeaked.
“Come sit here, please. I just need someone to listen for a short while,” she sat up and requested. The handmaiden softly walked over and, once Darai patted the bed, sat down. “All these princes come to try to woo me with their braggery. Not only do they do nothing to deserve princehood, do nothing to brag about, but also they don’t try to woo me. They have only interest in how my title can make them look better and give them sons, just more gems in their crowns. They don’t really care about me or anyone else, only themselves.” Darai paused in her disgust, looking to Gwen with watery eyes. “And here I have so little to cry about. Wives lose husbands and children lose fathers to the sea monsters, the poor suffer from starvation and disease, and here you are, bound to a life of faceless servitude and having to listen to a princess’s whining. I’m so sorry, I’ll stop; I’m so-“
“No, princess!” interrupted Gwen, surprising herself with her brashness, “don’t apologize. You have shown all of us who serve here such great kindness. You treat each servant as a true person. And we aren’t that different. Just as most royalty don’t see their servants as real people and we must obey our masters and mistresses, you aren’t respected by your suitors and you must obey your status.”
Darai thought this over. “You’re right, we aren’t that different. Though you can’t help the situation any more than I can, you’ve made me feel better. Thank you.”

Part 3

The days passed as usual, Darai having to appear alongside the king and queen occasionally at parties and feasts, and dealing with princes as was her princessly duty. As all other women of her status for generations and expanses of land unknown, her main job was to look pretty and quiet, embroidering and painting when not called to a celebration. She hid herself away with the friendlier company of the servants whenever possible; this always cheered both her and the servants until torn apart by class obligations. The knowledge that she wasn’t alone made it more bearable, and she made a point of greeting Gwen whenever she saw her.
When the suitors came again, Darai noticed that Gwen was among the servants who prepared the succulent buffet. She waved her over, pleased to have some pleasant company. As surprised as everyone else who had noticed the welcome, Gwen skittered over and sat down. She felt drab compared to the elaborate garb of the princes and even Darai’s casual gown, but soon forgot this when Darai pointed out how many of the princes had not even noticed. “See? We are both just a means to an end to them, just like you said.”
“Yes, I can see why this saddens you so much, why you feel so unimportant and unwanted for who you really are.”
“Just like you?”
“Until you, yes,” Gwen quietly confessed, blushing. They shared a silent moment, then chatted together.

It had always been Darai’s pleasure to converse with the servants, a habit bemoaned by her parents and other royal superiors. But, her growing friendship with the bashful Gwen stood out to everyone. Sigra and others were glad that the princess had such a close companion with whom she could relate. The king, the queen, and the few princes who had noticed looked down on them, but figured that it was a phase that would have to end when Gwen was married off. Esquenaldo, already familiar to Gwen, was charmed to meet her; the three comrades talked at ease among the stuffy company.
Even Sigra took note. “That girl has said more with the princess than she had since the day she was born!”

Still, nothing could dispel Darai’s longing to be wanted the way the princes should want her, the longing to be loved. This loneliness continued to plague her. She was both imprisoned and ostracized by how she was supposed to live, if that could be called living. The inactive monotony embellished her sense of facelessness. It was part of princesshood to be the pretty observer, not the doer. And seeing how little the princes actually did when they had such opportunity infuriated her at times.
“Don’t they ever get bored or frustrated with the way things are?!” Darai exclaimed to Esquenaldo and Gwen in her room after one particularly trying day with the princes. “How can they do absolutely nothing and still have the pride to come here like a flock of peacocks?”
“Maybe they brag to keep their minds off things, about how little personality they have.” Esquenaldo offered, adoring some violets a prince had given to Darai that day.
Gwen pondered. “I think they’re afraid.”
“Afraid?” they asked.
“Yes, afraid that they really do have nothing to brag about, that they aren’t special, that they really don’t deserve you.”
Esquenaldo sat up. He had noticed how close Darai and Gwen had become. As
Gwen had opened up more and more, she voiced her admiration of the princess more.
“Well, I’m afraid that I shall have to go home,” he said, getting up.
“Why?” Darai inquired.
He brushed past her on his way out, some violets in his hand, and murmured, “Sometimes the peacocks gotta leave the hens to do the flocking.”

Darai sat at her vanity and absentmindedly brushed her hair, watching her mirror reflect seagulls soaring along the waves in the window behind her. Gwen got up and took the shining silver brush. “You have such lovely hair, as lavender as the lilac blossoms outside.”
“If you had all this wealth and glamour, what would you do? Would you enjoy it?” Darai turned toward her.
“I would probably enjoy all the pretty lace, jewels, and all that for a while. But then I would probably get just as bored and upset as you.”
“Would you like to try on one of my gowns?” Darai proposed, having noticed that they were built similarly. Gwen gasped and nodded, very excited at the idea. Having only a few simple, brown dresses her entire life, the vast collection of colorful clothes always dazzled her. Darai picked out an elegant sky-blue gown, trimmed with amethysts, and assured Gwen that removing her servant’s dress would be all right. “You still have your bodice and underskirt.” Gwen looked gorgeous in the gown and felt both gleeful and weighed down by the extravagance. She watched herself transformed into a princess in the mirror. Darai was pleased to see her so amused. “Except for your wine-colored colored hair, you look just like me.”
“Oh no, you are so much more beautiful!” she protested.
“Stop it!” Darai took her hands and brought her to her senses, “You are finer than any gown, any gem. You keep telling me how wonderful I am-“
“But-“
“But you are just as wonderful if not more! You are honest and kind and beautiful whether you like it or not. Once you told me to stop putting myself down, that we are more alike than we seem. Now I must tell you to stop ignoring how amazing you are.”
Gwen looked away from Darai’s adoring eyes and murmured, “I should go, I should put this gown away and-“
“Please,” Darai whispered, holding her chin and drawing her gaze, “stay with me.”

Part 4

For the first time in years, Darai awoke at peace. Warm sunlight and the roar of the waves seeped between the curtains. She felt Gwen sleeping beside her and sat up, rubbing her back.
Gwen blinked her eyes open and grinned up at her, then jumped as the world came rushing back. “Oh no! I should have been at breakfast hours ago! Sigra’s going to be-“
Darai held her and kissed her worries away. “Explain everything to her, she’ll understand.”
“Why won’t you explain it to her?”
“Because I will be gone,” she resolutely declared.
Gwen stared wide-eyed, shaking her tousled head with shock and dread. “No, please don’t leave me! Not now!”
“I’m not leaving you. I had realized that I should not be complaining about lazy princes while I do nothing myself, though I didn’t want to face it. I can’t stand doing nothing any longer. You must take my place while I am gone. You saw how you could pass for me, especially with the ignorance of all the visiting royalty, and you said yourself how enjoyable it would be, even for a while. I will come back for you, but I must go alone. Whenever you need me, climb up the old steeple and ring the bell.”
“Then I will always be ringing it.”

That day, the princess appeared before the suitors with her wine-colored hair bundled into a cap and lilacs along her hairline. As always, they took little notice as she nervously fidgeted with her hair and admired her gorgeous gown. She hoped that Esquenaldo would come to visit today, but was greeted by only disappointment and loneliness.

That day, a servant girl had a leather suit made for herself and became a handsome rogue. He waited until the princes left and remained silent under his fedora, grasping a bag of gems and coins to trade on the mainland.
That day, as thunderclouds covered the sun and the iron transport crawled under the murky waters, Sigra grew ill.

Part 5

Over a month dragged by. Gwen had long since grown weary of the tight garb that restricted her breathing and movements, and she freely gave her heavy jewels to those who had been her fellow servants. Sigra, between tired coughs, had explained to all of them what had happened. Everyone had been touched by Darai’s compassion, and as they had known Gwen all her life, they understood and helped out as much as they could. Gwen ventured out to the North Gate at every sunset. She scanned the long grass, the sea, the town, the forest, and the mountains beyond, then turned to look up at the steeple, struggling with temptation.

Sigra’s condition worsened, yet she refused to stay in bed. “The best years of my life have been serving the princess, so I plan to keep doing so until my years have run out,” she said, winking. But, when her aches won against her stubbornness, she subsided to bed. Gwen, using what little power princesses had, gave her every comfort and played along when the crone sometimes confused her with Darai.

Finally, Gwen could resist no longer. One night as the starlight reflected off the scales of a sea monster, she raced up the steeple. She grabbed the dusty rope and pulled until she nearly tumbled down the stairs. The rope tugged back and the bell rang its plea. Again, she strained down and let it rise up to heave out her cry. In the distance along the mountains, she thought she could barely hear a rogue’s horse hooves clamoring their hurried reply. Now, all she could do was wait and hope.

The next day, Gwen nervously stayed beside Sigra. Those in the castle who still thought she was actually Darai recalled their own nursemaids; they sympathized with her situation. She was allowed to spend her time with ailing Sigra. Gwen was distressed at the loss of her mentor and was sorely missing Darai.
That afternoon, as Sigra began to release her hold on her aged body, a lavender-haired servant girl entered.
“Darai! There you are!” exclaimed the servants. Gwen jumped up in relieved surprise and let Darai sit in her place. She grasped Sigra’s hand. “I’m here, Sigra, I’m back.”
“Princess! You’ve returned at last,” she sighed. “Why are you in those awful servants’ clothes?”
Darai explained how she had to change into them in order to get back into the castle. “And when I saw all of you scurrying up here, I followed.”
“You were always so smart, so strong. Now that you have escaped, there is nothing keeping me here.” With that, Sigra passed.
Darai stuffed her lavender hair into a cap while Gwen, back to her princess mask, ordered that Sigra be laid upon a pyre in her finest dress, surrounded by flowers. They retired to the princess’s room.
Gwen embraced her with sorrow and relief. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was worried when you didn’t come last night.”
“Last night?” Darai managed to chuckle. “Did you expect my horse to grow wings and the sea to part? I have learned and done much over the past many weeks, but give me a few more.

Part 6

Gwen awoke the next morning to an empty bed and a knot in her throat.
After nearly a week of mourning alone, she dragged her feet to visit the suitors again. She didn’t know how much longer she could bear this and had long ago ceased to be amazed at Darai’s need to escape.

Today, a slim young man, garbed in black leather with a fedora pulled low over his eyes, stood in the group. A rapier at his side and his shoulders thrown back, he sauntered to the princess. Surprised, the other princes stepped before him to hide him with their more exquisite garb, yet he slipped through them.
He bowed gracefully and said in a low voice, “Gorgeous princess, I have traded and traveled much to become who I am. I can not offer you much in the way of treasures or status, but I bring you something none other here can.” He removed his fedora to reveal a cascade of lavender hair. The suitors gasped and quivered at the realization that they had been fooled all this time. They protested, but silenced when Darai continued, “I thought that all I needed was to have someone with a good heart and sound mind to want me. When I discovered that that was not fulfillment enough, I left to find what else I need. But it was all right beside me!”
Agape, Gwen asked, “And what is that, Your Excellency?”
“You. To realize that I should want you by my side. I love you, Gwen. Will you come away with me?”
“Yes, I will go anywhere with you.”
“And I with you. Go fetch some clothes and things. Meet me at the North Gate.” Darai left and Gwen ran to pack. Each prince ashamed that no amount of wealth and braggery could hide their cowardly selves, they skulked home, defeated. Gwen then went outside in time to see Darai dashing up to her, scattering the sand of the beach among the long grass. She clasped her hand and led her down to-
“A boat?!” Gwen yelped. “You sailed here?”
“Of course she didn’t. She wanted to be all romantic and come to you as just another prince from a transport,” Esquenaldo teased from the deck.
Trying to take it all in, Gwen was flustered. “You’ve been learning how to sail? What about the sea monsters? Isn’t it dangerous?”
Darai grinned. “Yes, but they are actually quite slow and stupid. I’ve learned to sail and to fight, among other things. Just give them half of the fish we catch, and they’re content. Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you. Will you come away with me?
Never looking back, Gwen nodded. “Yes, I will.”