With a final bow and a wave, the colorful Jester spun once, grinning like a fool. His pale, ice blue eyes and fair blonde hair combined neatly with a gold, red, and blue outfit, harlequinned as was intended for a court jester. Before him and all around him, the kind and his courtiers roared with uncontrollable laughter. The Jester had done his work, bringing joy and smiling laughter to every individual's face.

There was only one who neither laughed nor smiled; the youngest prince of the king's. His eyes were downcast, his lips turned down. His seat to the left of the king's as opposed to his elder brother's position on the right.

The jester witnessed this occurrence often, the young prince that neither smiled nor laughed. It was as if the lad had something weighing down upon him, a sense of hopelessness that could neither be penetrated nor lessened. Still, the did not prevent the blonde fool from doing his best; tumbling and flipping, dancing and cajoling with a wordless voice.

The bells on his shoes jingled merrily as he knocked softly upon the prince's chamber doors. An acceptance of the Fool's presence, and the Jester entered, his clothes jingling softly, his lips sealed in a perpetual smile as he gestured a small greeting to the prince who was staring out of the window on the far side of the room. It seemed that the prince did not hear the Jester, though, and instead, the Fool stepped further in, closing the door silently behind him. In his ears and in his mind swam with knowledge he was incapable of speaking, incapable of sharing. Words he knew, but not words that could be shared. He listened... he did not speak.

"Fair Fool. Why do you visit me so?" The prince finally spoke, turning away from his position by the window. "Every day and every night, you come to entertain my father, and then you come to visit me, as if you believe that you can cheer my gloom. What is the cause of this madness?" His amber eyes met the Jester's blue.

In response, the Fool clicked his heels as he leapt in the air, a small grin forming from ear to ear as his hands danced alongside his body. They moved from his mouth to his ears, his throat to his wrists and back to his nose and face again, smoothly and with purpose. His fingers almost appeared to play an invisible instrument, but no noise came from his mouth or his throat. The Jester went on, speaking the only words he was able, his hands fluttering in the sky like birds set free from their cages, dancing to their own melody.

Entranced, the prince sat, watching his Jester perform. A small spark of understanding lit in his eyes, but just as quickly faded away. "Limber... each day, you speak to me in movements, your mouth n'er moving, your throat uttering no such sweet melody as your hands. Yet, your words resonate with me, as if a voice in my mind speaks the true meanings of your actions." He looked away. "Truthfully, my only friend, you are my saving grace. Were it not for you, I should have run myself with my own sword an eternity ago. I have not been able to smile or laugh ever since I was a boy; afflicted with nightmares of scarlet flame and emerald lightning. I feel as if this is some curse, yet my brother speaks never of it, and neither does my father."

His gaze once again returned to the window. "Perhaps I am the one going mad. And if I am mad, perhaps you are only a figment of my imagination, Fair Limber." He sighed once, pinching the bridge of his nose.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and the prince turned to see Limber standing just behind, brows creased with gentle concern, a small smile still adorning the Fool's features. The hands of the Jester moved of their own accord, speaking those elusive words, but now the Prince understood them, as if they spoke comfort without sound.

"I understand, Limber. Your work is to bring joy. I am not joyful, and so am a cause for your concern." He began, but Limber's movements drowned out the prince's words. The prince watched for a bit longer, toying with the royal golden sash which was currently thrown over his shoulder. Danger? Disease?

"Well then, we must leave." The prince responded to the movements of the Fool. "We must depart to a place in which will preserve us. And you will come with us."

Limber's soft smile saddened, his movements more firm. Ice blue eyes watered for a moment before a small sniff and then a sigh, his hands dropping to his sides. Only for a second, and then those hands and arms were at work again, moving hastily and swiftly as he guided the prince towards the hall.

"Then these dreams...?" The prince resisted for a second, turning back to his loyal fool.

The Jester stopped his movements, freezing for a second. After a moment of contemplation, the hands moved again, slower now, as if searching for the right way to explain. The prince set the fool with a confused look... the hands had once again been reduced to nonsense, a leaping fool and the mute ramblings that he was quite used to out of Limber. Limber had been, as long as the prince could remember, mute. Not deaf, as far as he knew, but the bard's tongue had never uttered song nor word.

Yet, he had been warned that a plague was coming. A disease which could spell the death of his kingdom, his father... his brother.

They would not listen. They would have to be left behind.

Limber was still in the prince's room, watching the young man gallop away on a charcoal horse. A fire in his chest, and Limber turned away to cough; blood and phlegm spattering equally across the ground. Already, he was being called home.

Ice blue eyes looked out over the horizon, watching a Raven wheel. Mute tongue and open ears. Perhaps the prince was not the only one saddened by this departure.

Yet, Limber had no doubt that he would see his beloved prince again. And when they did meet again, Limber would be able to share yarn after yard with his dancing hands. Hands which now quivered and shook beyond control. The sickness was spreading already... a Black Plague falling upon the kingdom the Prince had just escaped from.