Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Quiet!"

The room went silent.

You stared straight ahead at the King, glaring at him. You hoped you were doing well at concealing the terror you felt inside.

"(Y/n) (L/n)!" King Yensid VII bellowed, voice echoing around the room. "You have been charged with trespassing, attempted larceny, impersonating a solider, and high treason. How do you plead?"

The room was silent as they awaited your answer.

"Guilty."

The noise crescendoed. You glanced over at Prince Elson. You had met him once before, and he no doubt recognized you. Despite him helping you before, you doubted you could count on him to save you now.

The crowd was in disarray.

"She actually tried it?"

"Inconceivable!"

"I can't believe it."

"She's gutsy."

"Or stupid."

"...probably that one."

"Silence!" The King bellowed. The crowd quieted down, though a few still whispered to themselves.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." The King said sternly. "I have to congratulate you on your efforts. No one has ever made it as close as you did. This very well could have been the crime of the century." He paused, giving you a cruel smirk. "But you failed, and for this you must be punished accordingly. You have been found guilty for crimes against the state. For these unforgivable deeds against your country, you will be sentenced to death."

Your eyes grew wide as you stood up violently. "Hang on! I was told that if I pleaded guilty my life would be spared!"

"In most cases, that would be true." The King nodded. "However, this is simply not something that I can let pass. Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped foot on Castle grounds. You were never going to succeed."

Hot tears began to pool in your eyes, and you did your best to keep them from falling.

"Take her away."

Each of your arms was grabbed by a solider who hoisted off the podium from whence you stood. You were dragged away from the courtroom furiously glaring at the King, who was no longer looking at you as he talked to his son.

Suddenly the door slammed open, momentarily shocking the crowd into silence. A singular man stood in the doorway as thunder boomed behind him. The rain poured down heavily.

"Forgive me for interrupting." The man stepped inside with a smile.

"How did you get in here, Crowley?" The King demanded. "This trial is private!"

"There is no need to worry." He assured the King as he strutted inside. He looked rather odd with a feather adorned greatcoat, a tophat with a mirror sitting on the rim, clawed gloves, and a mask that resembled a bird's beak. His golden eyes seemed to glow eerily.

"Why are you here?" The King asked him slowly, emphasizing each word dangerously.

"I came here today to help all of you! Ah, but I am kind."

"Really?" The King asked. "With what, exactly?"

"This trial!" Crowley said. "You see, I have irrefutable evidence that will prove Ms. Y/n L/n's innocence."

The crowd murmured to themselves.

The King stared at him before holding his hand up and gesturing to the guards who held you. "Bring her back. Let's here what he has to say."

Crowley only smiled jovially.

This was strange for two reasons:

1. You did not know this man, and

2. You had definitely committed those crimes.

Hi! Just to let you all know this story will have Yandere themes. I obviously do not condone this in real life, neither should you steal.

Makes for a good story though!

Chapter Text

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Crowley announced, pacing back and forth at the front. He twirled his cane in the air before it seemed to disappear. “I have here indisputable evidence that will prove that Ms. L/n is innocent!”

The King waved a hand at his soldiers. “Bring her back. I’ll hear him out.”

“Wonderful!” Crowley exclaimed. You started to be dragged back over to the podium.

“Dire Crowley,” the King said, “do you swear to speak the truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

“Then let us continue with the proceedings.” The King nodded. “Present your evidence.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Crowley swivelled on his foot to face the crowd, putting one hand in his pocket and gesturing animatedly towards you being placed on the podium with the other. “The accused stands before you today. She has not only been charged with multiple offences, she was caught in the act. This alone should make this case truly conclusive.

“Will one of the soldiers present please describe how she was found?”

A dark-haired man with a handlebar moustache stepped forward. “When we found her, she was dressed in armour and was dancing in the-”

“Did she have anything on her? A necklace perhaps?”

If you weren’t paying attention before, you certainly were now.

The soldier seemed equally as surprised. “Yes, she did.”

“Is it here?” Crowley asked. The soldier looked at the King, who furrowed his brow.

“Someone retrieve the necklace!” He bellowed. A servant ran out of the room, presumably to retrieve it.

“To put it simply, Ms L/n is entirely innocent of her crimes as she was not the mastermind behind them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have reason to believe that her necklace was enchanted. No sagacious person would ever commit these crimes on their own, and there isn’t a single person in the world who doesn’t know that this is an impossible feat.”

“She never mentioned feeling like she’s under a spell.” The King pointed out. “If this is true, then it should have broken the moment the necklace was removed.”

“Unless she’s been under the spell before,” Crowley said. “Exposure therapy, if you will. If someone is repetitively exposed to a stimulus the less they will react to it if they are exposed again. Not only that, if she was being controlled over some time no one would notice an alteration in her behaviour. Tell me, Ms. L/n, how long have you been in possession of your necklace?”

Your blood ran cold. “Since I was four.”

“Precisely.” Crowley nodded. “Therefore, Ms. L/n cannot be held responsible. If anything, she is the victim of these heinous crimes.”

“Are you saying that there is a larger scheme at play?” The King demanded.

“…I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question.”

The room began to panic.

“Silence!” The King boomed. The audience settled down, anxious to hear what’s next.

“Crowley,” King Yensid said seriously, “these are very serious accusations you’re making.”

“I’m well aware,” Crowley said seriously. “But as the Court Mage, it is my duty to you and the state to bring these threats to light.”

The door opened and the servant from before ran in, holding a dark oak box.

“Ah, wonderful!” Crowley cheered. “Bring it here.”

The servant walked over and presented the box, opening the lid for him. He reached in and pulled out the necklace with one hand.

The necklace itself was simple. It was a simple clear stone on a long, thin, leather thread. It was constructed in such a way that you could adjust the length by sliding a knot up or down the string when you wanted to, but you usually preferred to keep it just above your navel.

Crowley held your necklace up for the room to see and pulled his other hand out of his pocket. “Allow me to validate my proclamation.”

On his finger, Crowley had a large ring with a clear stone and a golden band. Slowly, he brought his hand toward the necklace. For a moment nothing happened. Suddenly, the stones began to glow. You watched in horror as the light grew brighter and the ring grew closer. The stones began to hum softly.

Crowley put his arm down and placed the necklace back in the box. “As you can see Your Majesty, this necklace contains a powerful magical energy. While Ms. L/n cannot be held accountable, there may be something far more sinister afoot.”

The King stared at the simple-looking stone in horror. “If this is true, then this is a matter of national security. Why was this girl chosen? And how can we be sure she won’t be experiencing any lingering effects of this enchantment?”

“The truth is Your Majesty, I cannot say.”

“Then what do you suggest?” The King asked. “She could be a danger to herself and others. While I cannot kill her, I cannot allow her to simply go free.”

“Then may I propose to take her with me?” Crowley asked. “I would like to study her and the necklace. This could lead us to the person responsible for these crimes. Ah, but I am gracious.”

You didn’t want to go with this man. You didn’t want to be imprisoned. You just wanted to go home and forget this nightmare ever happened.

The King, however, considered it. “That’s not a bad idea. You are aware that you will have full responsibility for her well-being, and you will not receive state funds for any damages she causes?”

“No funds?!” Crowley jolted back in horror before sighing. “I suppose.”

“And you will take care to ensure her well-being?”

“Of course. I’ll feed her, walk her, maybe even teach her some tricks-”

“Then it’s settled.” The King turned to you whilst your head was still spinning. “Y/n, you will go with Crowley and stay with him for the time being. You will be sufficiently cared for and if deemed fit to re-enter society you will be allowed to do so. Do you understand?”

You didn’t want to, but you understood perfectly. You had no choice.

“Yes.” You answered shakily.

“Excellent!” Crowley beamed. “Shall I take her with me now, or-“

“We will return her things before you both leave.” The King nodded. “This trial is concluded.”

The frazzled crowd stood from their seats and began to chat with one another in shock and file out. Meanwhile, you felt like you had been dunked in a bath of ice water.

You were leaving with a strange man you didn’t know, found out you were carrying a cursed item around, and worst of all; you may not have been in control of yourself for your entire life.

Chapter Text

“Here.” A soldier presented your clothes to you. They were folded neatly and stacked one on top of another. You took the bundle from him, avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks.”

“Crowley will be here in ten minutes. Be ready by then.” The soldier said before he exited the room. Then you were alone.

You immediately collapsed into a chair and placed your clothes on the table beside it, sobbing. The rain poured outside.

It was too much. It was all too much. You had held it in for as long as you could in the court, but now you were alone it came crashing down upon you in a tidal wave.

In less than 24 hours you had been caught committing the crime of the century, thrown into the dungeons, taken to court, sentenced to death, had a stranger appear and debunk everything you knew to be real, found out you were betrayed at only 4 years old, had been deemed unsafe for society, and your fate pawned off to the hands of a stranger.

You were scared. You were tired. You were overwhelmed. You were alone.

You sobbed harder. Your chest hurt. Your heart hurt. You felt your breathing becoming shallower, and you gripped your hair as if it would grip you to reality.

You almost died.

You were alone.

You didn’t know what was going to happen.

Your chest felt tight.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your heart pounded.

You struggled for air.

You were going to die.

You trembled, gasping for breath, but you couldn’t seem to fill your lungs between your sobs. You squeezed your eyes shut.

I’m going to die and I’m alone there’s no one to help me there’s no one who cares-

Your body heaved, desperately trying to get a breath of air.

“It’s OK.” A vaguely familiar voice reassured you. “This may be scary, but you’re OK.”

Opening your eyes, you looked up. Though your vision was blurry with tears you recognised the person.

“Do you see me?”

You mustered up enough energy to give a nod.

“Good.” He gave you a soft smile. “Describe me. How do I look?”

You tried to get a breath to answer but failed, another sob racking through you.

“Shh.” He hushed you softly. “It’s OK. You can do this.”

“You’re… blonde.”

“Go on.”

“You have blue eyes. And… golden shoulder pads.”

He smiled with mirth. “Thank you for noticing.”

You wheezed out a small laugh. “You’re welcome.”

“What else?”

“Green gloves.”

“Good,” he encouraged. “One more thing?”

“You have a long cape?”

He smiled at you tenderly. “How are you feeling?”

“…not good.”

“No?” His eyebrows raised in amusement. “I thought the golden shoulder pads would have kicked in by now.”

You gave a tired nod. “Try something collared next time.”

He chuckled before his face fell. “I came in here to let you know that Crowley’s come to collect you. I did knock, but there was no answer and since I heard crying-”

“It’s OK.” You assured him shakily.

He smiled at you. “I’ll give you a moment to get changed and then take you down?”

“Sounds good.” You took a deep breath and stood up, wiping the tears off of your face. “Thank you for… caring, I guess. Especially after… you know.”

“Of course.” He smiled at you. “After all, I can’t just leave a lady in distress. Especially one who owes me a dance.”

Before you could respond, Prince Elson gave you a cheeky smile and left you to change.

Elson took you down to meet Crowley once you were in your clothes: a simple brown capelet, a flowy white shirt that had a mandarin collar and was tied with a string, baggy black pants, and brown leather boots.

Crowley greeted you when you came down the stairs. “You look positively pulchritudinous!”

“I look what?” You were unsure whether or not to be offended.

“Thank you for bringing her down, Your Highness. Let’s be off then!”

“Wait.” Prince Elson walked down the stairs towards him, you following behind him. “I want your word that you will take good care of Y/n.”

“Who?” Crowley gave a funny look. “Oh, you mean Ms. L/n. Of course. We’ll be off now.”

“I expect updates on your progress and her well-being.” He told Crowley sternly.

“Yes, of course… now we really must be-”

“And if I suspect anything is wrong, I will be down there before you can-.”

“Yes yes of course… with your Father’s permission of course.” Crowley smiled.

Elson clenched his jaw.

“Let’s be off then!” Crowley said to you merrily and held out his hand. Hesitantly, you took it.

“It’s been a pleasure to see you, Your Highness,” Crowley told him. Elson only nodded unenthusiastically and then faced you.

“If there are any problems, write to me.” You nodded.

“Bye.” You said thankfully and gave him an awkward wave.

Elson opened his mouth to respond but you didn’t hear it. Crowley waved his free hand, and the scene dissolved. The furniture seemed to fly around the room and the next thing you knew a tree flew in. You felt dizzy as you watched the room spin around you like you were falling down the fabled rabbit hole. A moment later, the spinning slowed to a halt.

You stood in front of a large cabin-like building with trees looming over you on either side. It had a cold stone pathway that led up to its ominous double doors.

“Welcome to Ramshackle,” Crowley said conversationally as if he were introducing you to a new friend. He twirled his hand and his cane appeared, which he set on the ground with a click. You eyed it wearily. “Come inside! It’s only a bit haunted.”

“What.”

“I’m only joking, Ms. L/n.”

Despite its name meaning to “be in severe disrepair,” Ramshackle seemed in good condition. When you stepped inside, it was clean and relatively modern.

“Now,” Crowley said, heading up the stairs. “Let me take you to your room. We have a lot to discuss, but you need energy to do so.”

As much as you wanted answers, you couldn’t help but agree. You hadn’t slept in the cells last night, and your earlier breakdown had left you exhausted. You trudged up the stairs after him.

“Here you are.” He opened the door and you stepped inside.

The room had two floor-length windows with a fireplace between them. Above the fireplace was a mirror that was framed by two candlesticks and was beside a cuckoo clock. A green armchair and footstool next to a round table were beside the wardrobe on the left-hand side of the room, and a blank canvas on an easel was in the back corner on the right. A single bed was beside it, with a lamp on the headboard and a night table to the right.

“Why is that lamp so low?”

“Do you not like it?” Crowley lamented. “Ah, I suppose you’ll just have to take the couch. I will be working downstairs-“

“I love this room!” You jumped on the bed.

“Ah, excellent!” He spread his arms and smiled at you. “I’ll leave you to rest then. We will talk when you wake up.” He turned to leave, closing the door behind him. “Sleep well.”

You were out the second your head hit the pillow, dozing off into dreamland.

“Heh heh heh…”

You had never really been a deep sleeper. You had learned long ago that sleeping was when you were most vulnerable and had become sensitive to disturbance over the years, especially in unfamiliar environments. So when you heard an evil chuckle, you stirred almost immediately.

Still groggy from your exhaustion, you looked around. You saw nothing and rolled over to attempt to get back to sleep.

“Come inside! It’s only a bit haunted.”

You were awake.

With a screech you flew out of bed and ran into the hall, thundering down the stairs, and running into the living space.

“What’s happening?” Crowley asked, appearing in front of you with his hands on his hips and a scowl.

“You said this place wasn’t haunted!”

“It’s not,” He told you, baffled.

“Then what did I hear laughing?”

Crowley hummed and held his chin with his hand. “How peculiar. Where was this?”

“In the room you put me in!” You told him incredulously. “It woke me up!”

“Are you quite sure it was a ghost?”

“Well… no, but I heard something.”

“I’m sure it’s friendly.”

“Not funny!”

Crowley didn’t answer. He instead climbed up the stairs, leaving you standing in the living room feeling unsure whether or not to follow. You suddenly heard Crowley shouting.

“You pesky snollygoster! How many times must we repeat this until you give up?”

Curious, you slowly started to make your way up the stairs.

“Thought you had seen the last of me, eh? It’s gonna take more than that to get rid of the Great Grim!”

You poked your head into your room fully expecting to see a six-foot-tall evil warlock who had appeared in your room, only to be met with what appeared to be a small grey cat.

“You talk as if I haven’t successfully expelled you from the grounds twenty-six times already!”

“Who… what… is this?” You asked Crowley nervously, waving a hand at the furry monster. He sighs.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” It stomped his foot.

“His name is Grim. He enjoys breaking into Ramshackle with the misguided belief that I’ll take him on as an apprentice.”

“Oh.” You moved to get a better look at him.

“Who’s she?” Grim asked.

“This is Ms. L/n. She will be staying with me for the time being.”

“Myah? You took her on as an apprentice?” Grim asked angrily. “I bet I’m twice the mage she is! No- three times more!”

“Actually, I don’t have any magic.” You admitted. Crowley looked surprised.

“Wha- and you took her on?” Grim complained.

“She’s not my apprentice! I’ve wasted too much time with you already.” Crowley scowled. “Away you go!” He waved his hand and Grim was lifted off the ground.

“Myah?” Grim shrieked. “Hey, no fair! Take this!”

You jumped back with a yelp as a wave of blue flames came closer. This is why you hated magic.

Crowley summoned a shield to stop the fire, before magically opening the window and defenestrating the creature.

“Waaaaaah!”

Crowley sighed. “Another problem dealt with…” He met your blank stare. “There is no need to fret, I cushioned his landing.”

You nodded, now finding it a little humorous. “Oh.”

“Regardless, it’s good that you’re awake. We have much to discuss!”

You groaned sleepily.

“You could do with a more upbeat attitude. After all, we’re discussing your necklace first.”

You nodded, tired but paying attention.

“Now as you have seen, your necklace is indeed imbued with magic. However, that enchantment does not control you.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean-”

“That’s right!” He grinned. “You’ve been in control all along! Isn’t that wonderful? Now, what I wanted to talk to you about is-”

He stopped short after taking in your shocked expression.

“Perhaps we should discuss this over some tea. Do you prefer Earl Gray or English Breakfast?”

Chapter Text

Elson was taking a walk to clear his head when he stumbled upon a body. The dead soldier was contorted across the ground in an unnatural position, with blood still pulsing out of his mouth and onto the grass around him.

“Guards! Search the area!”

“Have you found anything?” King Yensid asked the guard who had just walked into the throne room. Elson, who had been staring intensely at the floor, looked up.

“No. This just appears to have been an unfortunate accident.”

An unfortunate accident. Elson wondered if that’s what you would have been. An unfortunate accident.

Elson didn’t trust Crowley as far as he could throw him. However, he had to hand it to him this time, despite not believing his story in the slightest.

“Close your eyes,” Crowley instructed, putting the obscured object in his cloak. “Now, what am I hiding?”

A much younger Elson closed his eyes and concentrated. His Father had sent him to Crowley for a day to access his magical potential, so he wanted to do his best to make him proud. He focused hard on the task.

The object in Crowley’s cloak was a simple spinning top. It was purple with red triangles. However, Elson was surprised to see that the vision didn’t stop there. It kept going, taking him across the room and to the stairs. He slowly travelled up them, one by one, further and further away from the room. He made it to the top of the stairs and saw the long, dark hallway on the top floor. There were five doors total; two on each side, and one at the very end. He stopped in front of the closest door.

Slowly, a key turned before unlocking it with a click. The door swung open.

“Well?” Crowley asked. “Did you see it?”

Elson opened his eyes and trembled. “W-why is there a room filled with x̴̡̨̡̡̛̯̯͉̠͍͎̱̪̲̤̰͍̺̼̱͉͚̗͉̝͇͔͖̯̘͇̝̮͕͚̜̐̀͊̈́̏̓̐͋͐̽̇̈̆̊͑͌̅̃͝ẍ̶̧̡̛̭̖͔̖͖̝͖̯͍̙̥̮̮̮̗͚̩͎̻̞̮̫̯͇̯͖͚͓̹͕̘̟̹̺̤̺̬̳̘̖̹̣̖̹́̂͐͐͌̆̇̂̾̓̒͌̈̋͆͂̉̃͘̕ͅx̵̣͙̠͍͚̙̙̊̄̅ͅx̵̫̂́̿̀̓̔͌̍̄̉̈͗̚̕̕ẍ̷̹̼́͗̔̐͊̅̈́͌͗̀͗̃̊̀̈͆͊́̾̊̔͒͛̂̂̇͛͊͐͋̊̇̏̀̆̒̿̉͛̎̀͆͒̓̈̇̚͝͠x̷̨̡̛̭̻̖̖̺͇̯͎̯͕͕͈͉̩͚͒͋̈́̄̈̃̑͌̒̊͋̃̆́̃͌̓̿̿̽̽̈̊̽̍̍̍͌̓̏͐͗̋͗̄̿͑̂̑̚͘͘̚͘͝͠͠x̷̡̢̡̧̛̛͚̱̩̫̖̫͈̗͎̹̠͍̻͎̘̦͔͉̘̮͇̣̻̳̪̲̝͚̝̊͑͊̉̒̽̍̓̈́̅́̅̇͐̊̈́̇̑̈̀̓̈͒̈͆͊́̂͌͗̿̏̕̕̚͝͠͝͠͠͝?”

Crowley’s face fell, all expression melting off his face as he stared at Elson coldly.

Since then, Elson had never trusted Crowley.

“I see.” The King lamented. “Send his family our regards and the standard 200 gold pieces. We will cover the funeral costs.”

***

“Who are you?”

He took a sip of his tea. “Dire Crowley, Court Mage and Servant to the King.”

“A King who you’ve lied to, which technically makes you a traitor to the Kingdom.”

“If I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

“The King thinks we’re on the brink of war.”

“An attack that will never happen.”

“You think he’ll believe that these ‘bad guys’ will just give up when they've been planning this for fourteen years?”

“No, but I think that once enough time has passed he will find more important things to fret over.”

“What about my necklace?”

“As I told you, it’s enchanted.”

“So you weren’t lying about that?”

“Gracious no!” Crowley huffed. “I do not just spin tales.”

“Your track record thus far hasn’t been that great.”

Crowley spluttered. “Regardless! And you aren’t exactly in the position to debate the ethics of my actions.”

“Touché,” you nod. “Where do I fall into whatever you’re doing?”

“Ms. Y/n, if you don’t mind me asking, who gave you this necklace?”

You stiffened. “No comment.”

He sighed. “I suppose that’s alright. For now. Do you remember this?” He took out his ring and held it up for you to see.

“To be honest, I doubt I could if I tried.”

“When I bring the stones together, it produces a glow. This is because they’re connected. They’re cut from a very special kind of magestone.”

“Magestone?”

“A kind of gem by which magical energy transverses across to produce a reaction. The most common kind are the ones kept in the magical pens used by spellcasters. It helps to channel their energy and reduce blot formation.”

“What’s blot?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Crowley shooed away the idea with his hand. “The crystals you see in these jewels are known as Chandelstones, and there’s only one known to the world. However, I believe there are up to four.”

“Four?”

“The King’s staff is the only one on record. Another was lost some years ago. However, there are two more. One for me” he held up his ring as he said it, “and one for you.” He tossed you your necklace.

“So they’re expensive?” Crowley’s eye twitched.

“Yes, but you’re missing the point! Now listen. Fate has brought us here together. You attempted the stupidest- I mean bravest heist in history, and failed.”

“I’m well aware.”

“However,” Crowley continued, “you got further than anybody else has ever managed. This means that should you attempt to pilfer any other… unassuming items, it should be no trouble.”

“…what do you mean by that?”

Crowley leaned in and lowered his voice. “It just so happens that there are some things I want in my possession that are worth lying to the King about.”

You smile in realization. “Okay then. What is it that you want so badly that you would risk so much to have?”

Chapter Text

Elson’s bedroom door slammed open when he entered. He headed straight for his wardrobe, which he opened just as aggressively, and pulled out his royal purple cape. Next, he found a slip of paper and some ink and scribbled a quick note to his parents. Then, he headed back to the throne room now he was sure they had left to grab the royal staff.

You were in trouble. He was sure of it. You were strong, but he had seen even the mightiest guards submit to the simplest of spells.

He was going over to Ramshackle whether his Father, Crowley, or anyone else liked it or not.

A pair of blue eyes watched the Prince leave the castle and ride off before following behind.

Elson did not know this person, but one of his guards had.

Unfortunately, he had not lived to tell the tale.

***

“Just a bit further.”

“How many stairs does this place have?” You complained, following Crowley as he led you up to the top floor.

“Nearly there!”

You arrived in a long hallway. Crowley ignored the first few doors and walked down to the end, where he took a key out of his coat and inserted it into the door’s lock. It swung open.

“Please, come in!”

You stepped inside behind him, not bothering to shut the door. “Woah. Are these…?”

“Yes.” Crowley nodded. “Mirrors.”

Cautiously, you looked around the mirror chamber. The mirrors were tall and large, with ornate frames that were each unique. If you stood in the centre, you would be surrounded by nothing but mirrors. However, what attracted your eye the most was the glass. It resembled liquid silver, which swirled unhurriedly in its frame. When you looked into it, your gaze was not met with your reflection but with the elusive movement of ethereal metallic currents.

“These don’t look like any mirrors I’ve ever seen.”

“These mirrors won't reflect your image; instead, they serve as portals to alternate worlds.”

You take a step backwards. “What?”

“These portals will lead to the realm of my… coveted trinkets.”

You look back at the pools of silver. “You never mentioned any world hopping.”

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you know the Classic Tales? Heracles, The Little Mermaid, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves…?”

“Who doesn’t? They’re kinda the foundation of the entire Kingdom.”

Crowley nods. “That’s right! But they are more than just stories.”

You look at him innocently. “Sure they’re not. I’ll have you know that I’m a regular traveller to Neverland on my off days. Captain Hook taught me how to steal himself.”

“Will you just listen?” Crowley scowled and placed his hands on his hips. “Our Kingdom is founded on the creation of these stories. And you see, the items I desire are within them.”

Silence settled over the both of you as he waited to see how you would react.

“You’re telling me…” you looked at the mirror behind you as if afraid something would jump out of it. “These mirrors lead to the lands of the Classic Tales?”

“Yes,” Crowley smiles. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are so not on the same page. Why do you want me to steal this stuff anyway? Do it yourself!”

Crowley sighed. “I would. Unfortunately, this would take away from the time I would need to sort out the paperwork that keeps you alive, delegates your reentering into society, the reports about you to the King, and-”

You huff. “Alright fine I’ll do it. Just let me make sure I’ve got this straight.”

“Continue.”

“I steal your stuff from… wherever. In return, you grant me freedom.”

“Precisely.” Crowley held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

You stared at his hand. This was dangerous, but you didn’t have any other choice. And also… he was relying on you just as much as you were relying on him. If he sold you out, you could just take him down with . However, betraying him would also be shooting yourself in the foot. He was shady. So were you. But you were relying on each other. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you were making a deal with an equal.

You took his hand and shook it.

“I’m deciding to trust you.”

“Likewise.” He stared at you, completely serious.

“One more thing. You said the mirror will you take me there. How am I getting back?”

“You’ll need your necklace,” Crowley said, releasing your hand. “Individual stones lack value, yet together they form a cohesive chandelier. If a piece is lost, it can be retrieved and returned. That's the essence of Chandelstones: they reclaim their place but are irreplaceable.”

“Do you always take the scenic route when giving instructions?”

“Do you always insert your solo in the middle of another’s symphony?” Crowley huffs. “After recovering the item, lift the crystal toward the light and enter the refraction; it will seamlessly return you to your previous location.”

“Got it. Anything else I need to know?”

“Would you just listen?” Crowley huffed. “Youth these days… When departing, ensure the refraction is in sunlight; otherwise, it won't be effective.”

You nod. “Got it. So… where to first?”

So caught up were the both of you in your dealings that you failed to notice the pair of blue eyes who had snuck in through the open door.

Chapter Text

When Elson had first learned that he was named after the Ice Queen, he had been less than thrilled since she was clearly just some girl who had had cooties. However, after hearing her story Elson looked up to her.

Like Elsa, Elson had grown up very much alone. He was the Prince and had nannies and servants surrounding him from the moment he was born. But they weren’t doing it out of a genuine desire to be around him, and he was certain that if they hadn’t been paid a hefty amount of money per hour they would have already left him to play on his own.

His entire life had revolved around the day he became King. He had begun his education at four, cast his first spells at five, began sparring with the palace guards at six, and so on. At age twelve, his parents started holding dinner parties to introduce him to possible suitors.

Be the good son you always have to be.

At first, he had been ecstatic about it. The prospect of true love was heavily valued in the Kingdom and more importantly, he would get to hang out with someone his age! Unfortunately, he soon realised that much like his nannies, the girls he was presented with weren’t all that interested in spending time with him. Or rather, they weren’t all that interested in spending time with Elson.

He already felt that his life centred around him being King, but it was then that he started to wonder if he was attached to the role of king instead of the role being attached to him.

“Prince Elson! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Prince Elson, you’re just like a Prince in a fairy tale!”

“Prince Elson, do you believe in true love?”

The funny thing was that he did, but the dinner parties only solidified one thing in his mind: you couldn’t marry a girl you just met. True love had to be carefully harvested between two people who understood each other, which none of these girls seemed to get. They were too caught up in meeting the Prince Charming whom they had read about for so long to allow him to get to know them or for them to care about getting to know him.

Unfortunately, his inability to choose a paramour only led to one thing: more dinner parties. He continued to play the part of the perfect Prince to make his parents happy, but he had grown to hate the events.

He felt rejected, despite the fact he was always the one to turn away a suitor. Was Elson not good enough to bother getting to know? It frustrated him to no end. Despite being surrounded by people he was entirely alone.

Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let it show.

That was when he met you. You weren’t with him just because he was the Prince. Hell, you didn’t even want to be there in the first place. You were just… honest. You didn’t put on some facade to gain his favour, and for the first time, he felt like someone saw him.

And he fell hard.

He wanted to see you again and ask to court you properly. But you had disappeared.

That was, until last night when you had broken into the palace.

He had immediately raced to the cells to visit you. He refused to believe you hadn’t been truthful to him at all. His feelings couldn’t have been built on a lie.

Could they?

No. He knew it as soon as he saw your broken face. You were huddled in the corner of your cell, shaking as another sob racked through you.

It was real.

He wanted to comfort you. To let you know that everything was going to be okay. He would get you out of this.

But you thought you were alone and he didn’t want to embarrass you. You weren’t close enough for him to be sure what you needed, he lamented. He reluctantly left to give you privacy.

He knew damn well you had broken into the castle on your own. If he wasn’t sure just by just how incredibly smart you were he knew it by the look on your face when Crowley arrived. You hadn’t seen that man before in your life, but for some reason, he had shown up to save you.

Crowley wanted you for something. And now he was convinced you were in more danger than anyone realized.

He would be damned if he didn’t save you and some bird got away with it.

***

“Your first mission,” Crowley explained, “is to steal the Crown of Roses from the Queen of Heart’s castle.”

You blanched. “In case you don’t remember, the last time I tried stealing something from an angry royal’s castle it ended pretty badly.”

“My dear, if you got that far at the Magic Castle the Queen of Hearts shall be no problem for you.”

“The same Queen of Hearts who is famous for beheading people.”

“Yes, but unlike Yensid she possesses no magic. You will be on an equal playing field.”

You sigh. “Fine. What do I need to know?”

“Are you familiar with the tale?”

“Alice is with her sister when she sees a White Rabbit and chases after it before falling down a rabbit hole and into Wonderland. There, she meets a plethora of different characters like the Tweedles, the Cheshire Cat, and the Mad Hatter. She winds up at the Queen of Heart’s castle and meets her and the card soldiers. She almost gets her head chopped up before she wakes up and realizes it was all a dream.”

“Wonderful. Do you feel your knowledge of the Queen is sufficient?”

“I think so?” You fiddle with your necklace.

“You’re nervous,” Crowley notes. “Rest assured. I wouldn't entrust such a precious item to you if I didn't believe in your capability.”

“Thanks.”

“Moreover, doesn't it seem appropriate for your first journey down the rabbit hole to guide you straight into Wonderland?”

You sigh and square your shoulders. “Fair point. Which mirror is it?”

“This one.” Crowley guided you over towards the frame. You stood before the slow, ominous swirls of the silver pool as you prepared for your entry into the unknown.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You took a deep, shaky breath, and Crowley smiled.

“Good luck!”

Then you stepped into the abyss.

Chapter Text

"Where's Daddy?"

Your mother looks up at you coldly. "He's gone."

"Oh." You frown. "When will he be back?"

"He's not coming back."

You try to make sense of it. "Why?"

"Because." She sighs and pushes her long dark hair over her shoulder. "He's a good-for-nothing idiot who thinks that stupid magic of his will grant him fame and fortune." She flips her long h/c hair over her shoulder and goes back to aggressively stoking the fire.

"But he's good at magic." You argue. She snorts.

"Not good enough. Choosing magic over his wife..." she stabs the coals. "Never heard of it."

Your four-year-old head processes it slowly. He was gone. Why? He said that magic was good. That it would provide food for the table. That it would bring you all together. He wouldn't have lied to you.

So why was he gone?

"He left you something. It's on the table." Your mother stands up and throws the poker against the wall before storming outside. The door slams behind her.

You walk over and look at the gift.

It was a simple necklace, with a clear crystal hanging on a long plain leather thread.

You were now standing between two large hedges. Suddenly, a projectile flies out of nowhere, slamming into you and sending you toppling into the bush. You clamber out of the plant and whirl around to see the flaming cat from before.

"What are you doing here?" You gasp.

It ignores your question. "Where are we?"

"We're in Alice in Wonderland! Wha-"

"Myah! That was serious?!" Grim almost falls backwards from shock.

"What do you mean, 'that was serious?'"

"You were talkin' to Crowley about some Crown of Roses, right?" You blink.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"You're stealin' it, right? It's gotta be some important magical object if Crowley wants to have it."

"You were eavesdropping?"

Grim smirks. "And you didn't notice me. Some student you are."

You put your hand on your forehead and stare at him in disbelief. "No. No no no no no no. You can't be here."

"Huh?"

"Look. Grime, the-"

"It's the Great Grim!" He said, stamping his foot.

"Right, Grim, look. As you apparently already know, I need to steal a Crown from the literal Queen of Hearts. I can't have you messing this up."

"Wha- hey!" Grim cries indignantly. "I'm not gonna mess anything up! If anything, it's you who's gonna be holding me back! Didn't you say you got caught doing something like this before?"

You drag your hand down your face in exasperation. "Yes, exactly! That's why I can't have some amateur ruining my plans!"

Grim gasps indignantly. "Amateur?!"

"Have you-" you stop, falling silent.

"What-"

You shush him frantically and listen. In the distance, the faint sound of singing reached your ears.

"Painting the roses red, painting the roses red~"

"That's it!" You take off running.

"Hey! Don't leave me here!" Grim yells, chasing after you as you turn the corner. "Slow down! I can barely see your feet under the bushes!"

"If we don't hurry we may never get out!" You yell back, sprinting toward the voices. "The Queen of Hearts's maze was supposed to be endless. We could be in here for weeks and not find anything!"

"What? You guys never mentioned that!"

"Well, forgive us for not planning on having a straggler!" You turn another corner and the singing grows louder.

"Why did Crowley choose you anyway?" Grim questions as he catches up.

"Well, I am exceptionally talented at stealing things."

"So you're a thief?!"

"I prefer the term acquisition specialist."

"Does it make a difference?"

"No, but it sounds fancier."

"Let me help you!"

You turn the corner and encounter another dead end. Groaning, you pivot on your heel and dash in the opposite direction with Grim and your heels. "No offence, but what exactly are you bringing to the table?"

"I have magic!"

"Sorry Sparky, but I'm not really a fan of magic as a whole so that's not exactly a reason to want you around."

"Wha- Grim spluttered in shock. "I don't get it! You don't have magic, and you don't even like magic, so why did Crowley-"

You both turn a sharp corner and come to a sudden stop as the singing ceases. Three pairs of eyes fixate on you, causing you to toy with your necklace nervously. Nobody uttered a word, which was frankly the least anxiety-inducing thing about this situation.

The card soldiers were not cards at all. Instead, you were staring at three young men.

Three attractive young men, but you needed to stay focused.

Swallowing, you met their eyes and forced a smile. "Hi. I'm, uh... lost."

A beat passes, and then the orange-haired one starts to snicker. Your cheeks grow hot.

"Lost?" The tallest one with glasses and a clover painted on his face frowns. "That's not good. How did you get here?"

"I- why are you painting the roses?"

When in doubt, deflect.

"Well, you see Miss..." the blue-haired one with reddening ears pipes up, "the white roses were planted by mistake."

"It's just the rose colour though. Why paint them?" You ask, despite already knowing the answer. According to legend, the tyrannical Queen of Hearts demanded her card soldiers paint her roses red because...

Well, you suppose she must have had her reasons.

The tall one held up his paint can for you to see. "Well you see, the King likes them red."

"...the King?" You look down at Grim, who meets your eyes with the same bewildered gaze.

"The King of Hearts." The orange-haired one with a heart on his cheek tells you. "You know, the angry ruler of Wonderland?"

"Ace..." the tall one says warningly.

"If he sees white he'll throw a tantrum and we'll all lose our heads." Ace finishes. The other two swallow.

"Yes, but we should still have some time." The tall one turns his attention back to the rose in front of him. "We can take you to the King later, but we have to finish this first."

You nod. "Oh, thank you... Can I help you?"

"Well, if you insist." "Ace" walks over and dumps his materials in your arms. "Here you go. I'll go grab the extras."

"Ace..." the blue-haired one scolds. "We can't just ask them to-"

He's interrupted by a trumpet blaring. Startled, everybody jumps and turns towards the faint sound of marching in the distance. The other two drop their supplies and run with Ace in line before prostrating themselves on the lawn.

"C'mere!" Ace hisses. You awkwardly scuttle over and follow their lead with Grim, lying on your bellies.

In the story, Alice joined in with the cards and painted the roses. Unfortunately, it seemed you had taken up that time talking instead, which you felt a little guilty about. However, they were going to be beheaded anyway, and you had bigger things to worry about.

The card soldiers marched into view in formation before standing at attention. The bugler sounded his trumpet. "His Imperial Highness, His Grace, His Excellency, His Royal Majesty the King of Hearts!" The soldiers applauded.

Looking up to see the King of Hearts, he was definitely... not what you had expected (not that you had expected a King in the first place.) He was smaller than you thought he would be, with bright red hair and steel grey eyes. Everything about him seemed regal, but he appeared less frightening than you had expected. You watch as he marches over to a rose bush and studies it. The garden was eerily silent.

"Who's been painting my roses red?" The King asks softly, looking around before his voice crescendos. "WHO'S BEEN PAINTING MY ROSES RED? Who dares to taint with vulgar paint the royal flowerbed?"

"For painting my roses RED-" He pauses and struts over to where five of you are lying. He stops and bends down, a wide smile spreading over his face. "Someone will lose his head."

Your heart began to pound.

"Please Your Majesty, it's all his fault!" The tall one pointed at the blue-haired one.

"Be not Your Grace! It's Ace, it's Ace!"

Riddle's head snapped towards him. "You?"

"No, Two!"

"Deuce you say?"

"Not me! It's Trey!"

"SILENCE! OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!"

The crowd cheers and begins to sing as the three are grabbed from under their arms and hoisted away.

"They're going to lose their heads, for painting the roses red! It serves them right, they planted white, the roses should be red. They're going to lose their heads~"

"SILENCE!" Riddle bellows, and then as if just realising takes notice of you for the first time. "Oh look, a girl. And... is that a cat?!" His pleasant expression contorts into a scowl, and you can see the rage bubbling up inside him. "Rule #23 states that one must never bring a cat to a formal affair, and a beheading is a very formal affair indeed. OFF WITH THEIR-"

"WAIT!" You cry. "He's not a cat!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"He's a..." you glance down at Grim, who looks like he's on the verge of passing out. "He's a Grim."

"A what?"

"A Grim! And his name is Sparky." You scoop Grim up (who looked offended) and point to his ears. "See these? These fire ears are the trademark of the Grim species. And this!" You flip him over so Grim's draped over your arm. "This is a bonafide pitchfork tail! They're famous for them."

The King looked thoughtful at this new information. "I've never heard of a Grim before..."

You gasp. "You haven't? Why, Your Majesty, they're the new pet frontier!"

His eyes widen. "Are they?"

"They sure are, Your Highness!" You advertise. "They're affectionate, playful, and temperate."

"Yours looks angry."

"He's just upset because he hasn't gotten enough belly rubs today! Isn't that right, Sparky?"

You swear Grim is plotting your death. "...Yes."

"And they talk!"

"Well, yes." The King remarks. "Most animals do?"

You pale. "...right. But... do they sing?"

"Yes."

Grim claws your hand.

"Of course they do!" You laugh. "As do Grim's. I'm sure you can see why they're becoming so popular."

"I see..." The King nods. "Thank you for introducing me to Sparky, Miss...?"

"Y/n."

"Miss Y/n." He smiles. "My name is Riddle Rosehearts, but you may refer to me as 'His Majesty.'"

"Uh, thank you, Your Majesty."

"What brings you to the Hearts Castle?"

"I'm lost."

"I see." Riddle frowned, and you decide that next time you should think of an alibi before you come to reduce the chances of being beheaded. "In that case, why don't you stay here for the time being?"

"That would be amazing." You reply earnestly. "Wouldn't it, Sparky?"

"Yeah... real fun."

"Excellent. A party must be held." Riddle smiles. "Card soldiers! Arrange the venue."

"Uh, Y-Your Majesty?" A card soldier steps forward. "What about the flowers?"

Riddle turns to you. "Is today your birthday?"

"Uh, no?"

"Then this is simply a party for new friends. Leave the roses as they are."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The soldier bows and runs off.

"Follow me this way, if you please." Riddle commands you with a smile. Still carrying Grim, you follow alongside him.

"I thought you liked your roses red?"

"As per Rule #469, when one throws a party for new friends the roses must be both red and white."

"They should be both red and white?"

"Yes, but only under these conditions."

"You care a lot about rules."

"Without rules, there is no order." Riddle takes you into a garden area, where tables and chairs are being set up. "The rules must be enforced."

"You sound like a very fair ruler."

Riddle smiles and stands up straighter. "I try to be. Rule breakers must be punished."

"Rule breakers must be punished?" You repeat. Was that a core belief you just discovered?

"If we allowed them to run rampant, we would descend into anarchy."

You take a deep breath. "What did those three do wrong to be beheaded?"

"They broke the rules. The flowers should have been red."

"I thought the flowers should be red and white?"

Riddle pauses in surprise and thinks for a moment. "Are you saying they expected this?"

"No, but they did say they would take me to you."

Riddle considers what you've said. "Well, Trey is very forward-thinking. I suppose you must be right. You there!"

The card soldier jumps and turns to face Riddle, freezing in place and paling. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Go find Ace, Deuce, and Trey and have them released with a warning. Next time I shall not be so forgiving."

The soldier raises his eyebrows and a few others in the area pause. "O-Of course Your Majesty! Right away Your Majesty!" He then sprints off.

Riddle turns back to you with a warm smile. "Now Miss Y/n, have you ever played croquet?"

Chapter Text

It took about ten seconds for everyone to realise you hadn’t played croquet before in your life. Riddle ended the game early when he saw desserts on the table, but you were convinced he finished it as an act of mercy. You were blaming the flamingo for your loss to protect your pride, especially since even Grim scored five more points than you.

Now, you sit at the end of a long table with the red-haired ruler, eating pastries and drinking tea.

“Yes please.” You eagerly tell the card soldier who is offering you cookies. Riddle smiles softly as you take two.

“I take it you’re enjoying your meal?”

“Oh yes. What is this?”

“Chocolate cake?”

You shovel in another mouthful. “Ith goof.”

“What’s this?” Grim asks, grabbing something off the caterpillar-themed cake stand in the centre of the table. It was a large creamy tart with a round surface and tantalising aroma.

“That’s a Mont Blanc- slow down!” Riddle moves to stop Grim from greedily taking a bite, but is too slow. Grim suddenly shrank down to the size of a thimble.

“Sparky?!” You blanch as Riddle lets out a deep sigh.

“Deuce, pass me a piece from the other side of the tart.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Calls a familiar voice. You turn and see your blue-haired acquaintance from earlier running over. “Here you are!”

“Thank you.” Riddle walks over to where Grim had been sitting and places a broken piece of Mont Blanc on the table.

“Sparky, eat this,” Riddle orders. A second passes, and then Grim returns to his normal size.

You sigh with relief. “Be careful what you put in your mouth! You’ll get in trouble.”

Grim huffs. “It was the tart!”

“That you ate! What happened there anyway?”

“One side of the tart will make you grow, the other makes you shrink.” Riddle says, then turns to Grim. “Y/n is right, you should be more careful. Take this as a lesson on controlling your gluttony!”

Grim pouts.

“Thank you for your assistance.” Riddle says, turning back around to Deuce. “You’re dismissed.”

“Uh… just one thing.” Deuce clears his throat and takes a low bow, making Riddle raise an eyebrow quizzically.

“Thank you for your help!” He practically yells at you, his hands firmly at his sides and his head parallel to the floor. “I don’t know what you did, but thank you!”

You blush slightly from his gratitude and glance at Riddle. “Oh, it was nothing. I just told him the truth- that your foresight saved everyone a lot of time.”

Deuce blinks. “My what?”

“Of course!” Ace suddenly jumps in, swinging his arm around the other boy’s shoulder. “We were happy to help. In fact, if you need anyone to show you around, just come find us!”

“You will be busy all of tomorrow dressed in pink tending to the hedgehogs,” Riddle says flatly. “Just when are you expecting to have time to do this?”

Ace laughs awkwardly, slightly blushing as he pulls away his friend. “Right. Of course, Your Majesty. We’ll be off now.” Once they’re gone, Riddle turns back to you.

“More tea?”

“Yes please.” You put out your cup to be filled and look at Riddle apprehensively. “If you don’t mind me asking… and you are under no obligation to answer this question as you are the King and you know best, but I would love to know the answer to this question as I am very curious but-”

Riddle cuts you off with a gentle smile. “You can ask me.”

You take a deep breath. “Where is your crown?”

He chuckles. “Was that all?”

You redden. “Yes?”

He looks at you kindly. “You can relax. The others fear me, but you needn’t be fazed in the slightest. I will give you fair warning should you breach any of the rules.”

Surprised but definitely not complaining, you nod and sit forward.

“I do not wear the crown unless there is a ceremony or official trial. The rest of the time it’s inside the castle.”

“Inside the castle?”

“In the crown room.” Riddle specifies.

“Sounds like you have it well protected.” You remark. He nods.

“Of course. I have guards watching it throughout the day.”

“Well, that’s good.” You tell him as you take a sip of your tea. “You never know who might be trying to steal it.”

“I doubt anyone would be so foolish.” Riddle tells you. “If anyone dared to try, it would be off with their head.”

Your tea suddenly seemed much harder to swallow. You became intensely aware that you were walking a tightrope that required taking graceful, calculated steps to the other side- and of the danger that slipping up would bring.

“Are you finished?” Riddle asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hm? Yes.” You were no longer hungry.

“In that case, let me take you inside and show you to your room.” He  stands. “Follow me.”

“Cat!” A guard suddenly yells. Riddle spins around.

“Where?”

“It’s not Sparky!” You immediately clarify, picking him up and holding him in your arms like you would a teddy bear. “He’s a grim, not a cat.”

“No!” The guard cries. “There! By your head!”

You turn and see nothing.

“There he is!” A different guard yells. “He’s there, Your Majesty!”

“Enough!” Riddle bellows, making the surrounding soldiers flinch. “Cater, take Ms. Y/n up to the guest room and make sure she’s properly taken care of. If I hear a single complaint from her it’s off with your head.”

“Cater” steps forward with a nervous smile and gives him a salute. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Is this all right, Y/n?” Riddle asks you tenderly, his ferocious demeanour dissipating. You nod.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You assure him. “Just do whatever you need to do.”

“In that case, I will give you a private tour tomorrow to make it up to you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“But, uh, we were really lookin' forward to seeing the castle!” Grim interjects.

“I apologise,” Riddle laments. “But unfortunately this cat is a repeat offender who enjoys breaking into various parts of the castle and breaking the rules. I will give you a tour after lunch tomorrow.”

You sigh, disappointed. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Riddle smiles sympathetically. “Thank you for understanding. Have a good night.” He then turns back to his guards and you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Y/n, right?” Cater says. “Just follow me.”

You nod, screaming in your head.

Curse that stupid Cheshire Cat.

“My name’s Cater Diamond, but Cater is fine. Or Cay-Cay if you’re Cray-Cray! Soooo nice to meetcha.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

Cater had a warm energy around him which you gravitated towards instantly- especially now that Riddle was gone. Right now, you are feeling the most relaxed you have all day.

Cater talked a little strangely, constantly using Wonderland words and phrases. Luckily, you found his little quirk endearing, if not funny at times. Sure he seemed a little superficial, but wasn’t everybody?

“It’s so crazy how Riddle’s letting you stay,” Cater tells you, heading down a twisted hallway. You look around for any landmarks to help you navigate through the halls later, but the sheer absurdity of the building was making it difficult.

“How so?”

Cater shrugs nonchalantly. “The last person who walked through this maze was almost beheaded.” 

“...Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah.” Cater agrees. “It’d be a shame if someone so cute got the chop, ya know?”

Immediately you felt your face begin to burn.

He chuckles. “Aw, I didn’t realise how easy you were to fluster. Totes adorbs!”

“Eh?” Grim looks up. “Wow, you weren’t kiddin’! Her face is like a tomato!”

“Shut up.” You decided you hated cats.

Cater laughs good-naturedly and takes you to the beginning of another long hallway. “Anyways, to your right is the Soldier Wing- you met the Adeuce combo earlier, right?”

You blink, processing the name. “I think so?”

“Their room is that one.” Cater points at the door. “Mine’s right next to it, so feel free to stop by if you need anything.”

You nod. “Thank you.”

“Your room is just here,” Cater says as he brings you to the door. “Any questions?”

“Is there anything else on this floor?” You ask him, tilting your head gently to the side. Cater hums. “Only the kitchen - and I guess the Crown Room, but it’s sort of in the middle between the floors.”

You crease your eyebrows together. “The middle? Huh?”

“It’s at a slant,” Cater explains. “But it’s on this floor- near the Soldier Wing.”

“Ah.” You nod. “I see.”

“Where’s the kitchen?” Grim asks.

Cater gives him a concerned smile and twists his long, ginger hair between his fingers. “I’d tell you, but I feel like you’ll do something sketchy with that info.”

“Myah? Oh, come on!”

“Look, Riddle’ll have your head if you’re caught eating something you shouldn’t,” Cater tells him. “Hashtag Grim Reaper.”

The little monster groans.

“Well, thank you for bringing us here.” You interrupt. “You were fun to talk to.”

“Huh? Oh, no problem.” It was Cater’s turn to look surprised, his eyebrows shooting upwards and eyes widening. A blush appears on his face.

“Aww,” you coo, “I didn’t realise how easy you were to fluster. How adorable!”

Cater looks even more embarrassed now but chuckles. “Touché. I gotta get going- see you later alligator!”

What a strange and uniquely Wonderland phrase. “Bye!” You wave.

“See ya!” Grim calls and runs inside. “Wow, swanky.”

You look around. The black, white, and red colour theme was strange, but you were hardly going to complain when the room was still nicer than what you were used to. You sit on the bed, noticing how it bounces under you. It was so fluffy- you wonder if you could make yourself forget you were in the castle of a homicidal maniac if you buried yourself under the covers.

“Wonder where the kitchen is,” Grim asks again.

“We just ate!”

“I’m starvin'!”

“You ate the whole- never mind.” You sigh. “You’re not going anywhere. You are staying in this room and being quiet while I come up with a plan.”

“Wha-”

“Quiet!” You snap, pointing to the corner.

Grim huffs but trods off.

You throw yourself backwards onto the bed and try to collect your thoughts. Somehow, you needed a way to grab the crown and get both of you out of here- without losing your heads. Literally.

You could sneak in at night, but Riddle said the crown was guarded around the clock. Plus, you lacked an exit. You could wait until the guards change shifts, but you would need to carry the crown out of the castle before they notice it’s missing and go on full lockdown. There was also the classic descent from the above tactic, but that requires more time, materials, and hands than you have available.

Then you notice that there is a head floating in the air right above you.

You sit up with a shriek, alerting Grim who whirls around at the noise.

“You’re that floating head guy!

“Wha-”

“Pur-leased to meet mew!” The head grins, and the rest of his body fades into view. He stands over you, feet on the bed. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker, but you can just call me Che’nya.”

“What are you doing here?” You scoot backwards and cross your arms.

“I just wanted to see the fair meow-den who cat-tured Riddle’s eye.” Che’nya gives you a wink.

“What.”

“What do they call mew?”

You don’t respond immediately, so Grim does. “I’m the Great Grim, and this is my hench-human Y/n.”

“I’m not your hench-human!” You snap.

“Hmm…” Che’nya hums, eyes glinting over at Grim. “Me thinks I heard mew go by ‘Sparky.’”

“My name isn’t Sparky!”

Che’nya chuckles mischievously. “Didn’t mean to twist your whiskers.”

“What are you doing here?” You cut in. “If you have nothing to do then you can leave.”

“Oh? What’s the meow-tter?”

“That someone could come in here at any moment and think I’m involved in one of your schemes!”

“But you’re not.”

“But they might think I am.”

“Who might?”

“Riddle!”

“Have you heard the one about the raven and the writing desk?”

You groan, running a hand down your face in agony. If you have learned anything from this day, it's that you’re a dog person.

“Look, it’s been a pleasure, but you can go now.”

“Aw, but I’d pur-fer to stay.” He whines. “It’s so much fun here.”

“Well, your fun is getting in the way of-”

“In the way of…?”

You stop and take a few deep breaths.

“Tell me,” Che’nya asks, balancing with one foot on his skull, “Can you stand on your head?”

You stay quiet. In the story, the Cheshire Cat almost got Alice killed. However, he had also helped her. When you thought about it, it seemed that the Cat was only motivated for his own entertainment.

You purse your lips. No risk, no reward.

“Tell me, Che’nya.” You take a step closer to him. “How fun would it be to see Riddle get really, really angry?”

Che’nya hops off his head and kicks it upwards so his cranium lands back in place on his shoulders. “Oh, very fun.” He lies in the air in front of you, resting his head on the back of his hands. “It seems Riddle’s sweet little rose isn’t as paw-sitively innocent as she seems. What are you fur-mulating?”

You stare into his yellow, cat-like eyes. “I want to steal the Crown of Roses.”

Silence fills the room for about twenty seconds before Che’nya bursts out laughing.

“Someone has claws!”

You blush, feeling awkward. “Do you want to help us or not?”

“Sure. What’s your cat-egy?”

“Well, if you answer a few questions first I can tell you,” You cross your arms. “Firstly, where is the crown room?”

“A fur doors down on this level, under heavy pur-veilance.”

“When do the guards change their station?”

“Me thinks about on the meow-er.”

“So about nine o’clock, ten o’clock, eleven o’clock…?”

Che’nya nods. “Yes, pur-ceisely.”

“So all we hafta do is grab it when the guards are changin’. Easy!” Says Grim.

“It’s not so simple.” You tell him. “They will likely bring in the new guards before the old guards are allowed to leave, and during their shift, the crown will be under constant surveillance.”

“What about when they’re changin’ then?” Grim asks. You ponder for a moment.

“It’s risky but possible. I’ve pickpocketed larger items off worse people and gotten away with it. The problem isn’t necessarily stealing the crown- it’s getting out.”

“What are we goin’ to do about that?” Grim asks. You think.

“We haven’t got the time to waste finding a potentially non-existent secret passageway, though that would be handy.” You turn to Che’nya hopefully. “Are there any weak points in their ranks?”

“Paw-bably, but you’d have to learn who pur-self.”

You sigh, expecting as much. “Figures.”

“What if I took it?” Grim asks. You look at him in surprise.

“You want to steal it?”

“Wha- no way!” Grim shakes his head furiously. “But if I get the Crown outta the castle, Crowley’s gotta take me in as a student!”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding. “Unfortunately I’m not sure that would work. I can’t communicate with you to meet me somewhere once I’m inside the room- maybe we could meet in a predetermined area?”

“In-paw-sible.” Che’nya interjects. “The guards would whisker mew away for suspicious activity if they found him prowling around the paw-lace.”

“The hallway just outside then.” You declare. “Watch the time and that can be your cue. That way you will see just when I’m escaping, and hide in our room in the meantime.”

“How will I get out though?” Grim asks. “I’m not doing’ nothin’ if I can’t escape.”

“Well, lucky for you you seem to have a talent for that.” You drawl.

“Myah?!”

“What about the dumbwaiter?” You suggest. “The kitchen is on this floor and it would take him outside- where exactly would he end up?”

“Just outside the cat-sle,” Che’nya says. “He’d have cat-cess to all the areas around the exterior- so long as he doesn’t pur-cure the attention of any guards.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath and smile. “I still need to work out a few details with you both first, but I think we have a plan.”

***

Elson scowls. He's been looking for an entrance into Ramshackle, but unfortunately his search was remaining fruitless. He peeks in through a window and into the kitchen. Two cups sit untouched in the centre of the table- just like when he checked through the other window thirty seconds ago.

Frustrated, he crouches down on the grass and rubs his face with his hands. There was evidence that you were in the building. The two cups of tea and your caplet hung on the coat hanger should have disposed him of any worries.

Except that he hadn’t seen you.

Why did that bird want you so bad? It didn’t make any sense to him. You had no magic, so what use could you possibly be to a wizard as powerful as Crowley?

He sighs and stands up, trudges to the door, and knocks. It opens a minute later.

“Prince Elson.” Crowley greets in surprise. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m here to see Y/n.”

“…Prince Elson. It has been one day.”

“She’s had a very rough 48 hours,” Elson defends. “I demand to see her.”

“Are you here by order of the King?”

Elson nods. “Yes, I am.”

“Then may I see the letter?”

“I’m afraid there was no time to write it before I left.”

“Then I regret to inform you that although I am truly sorry, I am under no obligation to permit you entry without proper decree.”

“Why can’t I see her?”

Crowley sighs. “As you’ve said, she has had a very rough 48 hours. She’s sleeping.”

“May I come in until she wakes up?”

“No, you may not. Go home, Your Highness. Safe travels.” Crowley closes the door.

Elson sighs. He had expected a no, but he did not come all this way to give up so easily - especially when it came to Crowley. If anything, the fact that that feathered cabbage wouldn’t even let him step foot in the building left him even more worried. Who knows what kind of dangerous situation Crowley might have put you in? Elson steps back and looks up, taking in all of Ramshackle.

He still has a few hours before the castle tracks him down. He will find you, even if he has to bring Ramshackle to the ground in the process.

Chapter Text

While you are decidedly not a cat person, you’re sure you could see the light with hedgehogs. After all, they were the reason that that morning you were able to sneak into Ace and Deuce’s room and grab a soldier uniform. You walk out into the hall, decked out in your disguise.

Che’nya is causing a commotion in a nearby wing of the castle. Consequently, several soldiers had dropped everything to catch Wonderland’s most wanted. You knew that there was no way that all the soldiers knew each other, and if you had learnt one thing in your many years of sneaking around it was to fake it until you make it. No one bats an eye as you join their ranks and take your post.

You have formulated the perfect plan.

Except for the part that relies on Che’nya’s continued interest in the plan and Grim making it out of the kitchen without getting distracted.

So you were still probably in trouble. Curse cats and their stupidly short attention spans.

Unfortunately, you don’t have much of a choice but to work with them if you want to make it out with both the crown and your head. 

Speaking of, you wonder what Crowley could be doing now. It’s probably shady. Why did he even want this stupid crown in the first place? You seriously doubt it was a fashion statement - he must have realised he couldn’t pull it off. Additionally, you were almost certain that this Crown wasn’t magical. Why would he want it?

You puzzle over it for a while but as clever as you are, you can’t think of anything.

Well, whatever. So long as he stays out of your business and keeps his end of the deal, you’ll do the same. So what if he’s starting some sort of war? That sounds like not your problem.

Everything would be so much easier if you had money. As far as you’re concerned, money might not buy happiness, it could rent a lot of it. 

This is all his fault. It all comes back to my stupid excuse of a parent.

It’s not fair and you’re very certain no one has ever had problems quite like yours and the universe must hate you because why else would your life be so hard.

Your wallowing is interrupted when guards enter the room. Your shift is over.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves as your replacement approaches you and step aside, placing your hand on the crown as you do so. The guard steps into position, turning his back on the podium to face the door. You pull away, sliding the crown off the podium and taking it with you. You’re in the clear.

Then you knock the top of the crown against the guard’s hand. He looks down and you see his eyes widen in realisation.

“THIEF!”

You take off running toward the entrance where the door is open just enough for you to run through. Unfortunately, you stand no chance against thirty-something guards.

You’re pinned to the floor and your hands are forced behind your back. The Crown is ripped from your grasp.

“Someone tell the King!”

You look up and spot Grim, who is just making his way down the hall. You make eye contact and he looks at you with wide, scared eyes. More guards are coming. He has to get out of there. You mouth at him.

“Go.”

Grim sprints off.

Chapter Text

You were having a rather strange and terrible sense of deja vu.

“Y/n L/n!” Riddle bellows, and the card soldiers look up in anticipation. The crown on his head glints down at you mockingly. “You have been charged with impersonation of a soldier, attempted larceny, and treason. How do you plead?”

You take a deep breath and answer. “Not guilty.”

You feel extremely self-conscious, both from the embarrassment of being convicted and the judgemental look the entire courtroom gives you. Even Ace and Deuce (who are guarding either side of the podium where you stand) give you a disbelieving side-eye.

“Is she crazy?” A soldier whispers.

“She must be. There’s no other explanation.”
“She must have known it was essentially suicide, right?”
“Shut up. This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in the castle and I’m getting the deets.”

Riddle glares down at you from where he is standing. “Then care to explain why my soldiers found you with the crown in your hands, running from the treasure room?”
“Certainly.” You nod. “You see, Your Majesty, I was just as stunned to be there as you are to hear it.”

“Really.” Riddle stares at you. “Do tell.”

“Well you see, Your Majesty, this is all Poseidon’s fault.”

The courtroom goes silent, and everyone looks at you like you’re a crazy person. You have their undivided attention.

“...you’re blaming Poseidon.” Riddle asks tonelessly, frowning and probably attempting to psychoanalyse you in his head.
“Yes!” You nod. “You see, I woke up this morning and was about to change into my normal clothes when the ground started shaking. The floor cracked, and up from the depths of the ground rose Poseidon.”
“What in the crown are you doing?” Ace mutters. Riddle stares at you like you had just told him you were secretly a bunch of chipmunks in a human costume.

“He was like, ‘Y/n!’” You deepen your voice and turn to your left. “‘My lead musician just dropped out last minute and I need someone who can shred How Far I’ll Go on the bass.’”

You turn to your right. “So I was like ‘I’ve never played before but I can try, what do you need?’” You turn back to your left. “And then he was like, ‘If you’ll just come with me then-’”

“Enough!” Riddle bellows. “Do you seriously expect me to believe this nonsense?”

“Oh, yes.” You tell him earnestly. “I really did perform at Poseidon’s Annual Underwater Festival Bananza. Crustaceans were waving their claws in the air and everything. When I was finished he dropped me off in the middle of your throne room. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Y/n L/n!” Riddle spits out. “You have deceived me, broken into restricted rooms, stolen another soldier’s uniform-”

You interrupt him. “It’s my mermaid outfit, actually.”

Riddle’s face turns red. “OFF WITH HER HEAD!”

“But Your Majesty!” You protest and back away from Ace and Deuce, who are hesitantly turning to grab you. “I can prove that I didn’t steal the crown for one very simple fact!”

“And what is that?” Riddle’s smile is just a bit too wide and his eyes a bit too vacant. Ace and Deuce hesitate.

The entire room shifts its gaze to Riddle, who stares at you a moment longer before it clicks and his eyes widen. His hands shoot up to his head, but all they find is his hair. He scans the area, hoping the crown has fallen to the floor at his feet. 

It isn’t.

He looks back up. “Where-”

The crowd quiets as he falls off, panic and confusion filling the room. They look back to you, searching for an explanation and quickly getting one.

The crown wasn’t the only thing that was missing.

“FIND HER!” Riddle screams and the startled card soldiers run around in disarray, unsure where to look. 

How could someone have just disappeared in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes? Where could she have gone? Where was the crown?

The two card soldiers who are standing just behind Riddle exchange a glance.

Trey is the first to speak, clearing his throat. “Your Majesty-”

“Bring her to me.” Riddle interrupts lowly, and dangerously calm. “Alive.”

Trey blinks and looks back at Cater, who is equally as surprised. He turns back to Riddle. “Come again?”

“Find her.” He repeats. “I don’t care how long it takes. I want her alive.”

Cater twists his hair around his finger. “Soooo… you don’t want her head?”

“She’s a rule breaker. Rule breakers must be punished. But there is more than one way to paint the roses red.”

Chapter Text

“Your Majesty!” Deuce marches forward. “We have news.”

Riddle looks at him expectantly. “Have you found her?”

“N-no Your Majesty, but-“

“Don’t twiddle your fingers.” Riddle scolds. “If you haven’t found her, why are you here?”

Deuce frowns but stands up straighter. “Because we believe we found something worth noting.”

Riddle raises an eyebrow. “Continue?”

Deuce takes a deep breath. “Sire… we found a half-eaten Mont Blanc in her bedroom.”

***

“Giddyup, Sparky!” You yell as Grim goes under another bush and sprints forward.

“They’ll never catch us now!” He hoots. “Piece of cake!”

You clutch to his fur tightly as adrenaline pumps through your system. You were almost in the clear, you just had to make it back to the rendezvous point and you were home free. You grin and duck closer to the spunky monster as he bounds under another bush.

This was the most bizarre heist you had ever been on.

Eventually, you arrive in a clearing and slip off Grim’s back, taking out a spare piece of your tart and nibbling at it cautiously. Once you were back at your original height, you gave a piece to Grim. Then you pocketed the remaining tart for later- you never know when it might come in handy.

“See?” Grim gloats. “Whaddid I tell ya? You can always count on the Great Grim! Myah hah hah hah! I’ll be a great mage in no time!”

“Yeah.” You smile at the little monster. “Thanks, Sparky.”

His ears flatten and he whines. “It’s the Great Grim! And give me some more of that stuff, I wanna be taller than my Hench-Human!”

“Then you’ve gotta do your time like everybody else, Sparky.” You tell him and pocket the tart. “Now, all that’s left is to wait for-”

“Meow to arrive?” A lonesome grin asked, and then its head faded into view. You smile.

“Good job! Do you have it?”

Che’nya grins and his body materialises, holding the Crown of Roses. He gives you a humorous bow and presents your prize, which you take gingerly into your hands.

“We got it!” You practically squeal in excitement, smiling from ear to ear. You hadn’t felt this happy since…

Your mood was ruined.

“We got it.” You repeat, more sternly this time and squaring your shoulders. “Thank you both for your help. Now, we had better get going before Riddle’s guards find us.”

Che’nya raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. “Head back to where?”

“Home.” You tell him offhandedly before turning to your furry companion.

“C’mon Grim, let’s go.”

“Where is your humble abode?” Che’nya asks, attempting to follow. You ignore him.

“It’s been nice meeting you.”

“Cats not very nice.” He pouts. You had been so open before- he was sure that telling him your plans for the heist must have been far more dangerous than telling him this now. He had so much fun with you. “Aren’t we friends?”

You pause and stiffly turn back to him. “We are. But we do have to leave now. We’re… late.”

Che’nya tilts his head and his grin disappears. “Will I see mew again?”

You stop and stare at him with eyes like a deer caught in headlights. Then, you swallow and give him a broad smile. “Of course you will. Until next time! Bye, Che’nya.” Then you left him, running around a hedge and out of view.

“Yeah. Bye!” Grim yells to him as he chases after you. Around the corner, you pull off your necklace and hold it up to the light.

“Ready to go?” You ask Grim, forcing a smile.

“Why did you tell Che’nya we’d see him again?” Grim asks, staring up at you curiously. You take a moment to answer.

“Because sometimes… you need to decide between an ugly truth and a beautiful lie.”

You hold the necklace up to the light, ending room for all further discussion. The refraction falls on the floor beside you, and (after giving you a look,) Grim goes into the light. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then, you follow him through.

You are relieved to step back into the mirror room and scan it for Crowley. Not seeing him you rush out of the room, unnerved by the mirrors. You can’t help but picture some strange monster entering through their silvery pools. You shudder on your way out.

You thunder down the stairs, Grim at your heels. “Crowley! Crowley! Crowley! Crowley!” You jump off the third step from the bottom and land on the floor with a loud thump.  

Crowley wheels around the corner. “You’re back. Welcome!”

You hold up the crown with a grin. “Look what I got~!”

Crowley’s eyes widen and he scurries over to take the crown from your hands. He holds it up to the light to see it better in the dark room, observing it carefully. “Remarkable! Well done.”

You clasp your hands behind your back. “Truth be told, I had a bit of help.”

“Oh?” Crowley looks over at you. “Who?”

“Me!” Grim jumps out from behind you and stands in front of Crowley, puffing out his chest and crossing his arms. Crowley steps back in surprise, seemingly noticing the little monster for the first time. “Never underestimate the Great Grim!”

“…pardon?”

“He’s telling the truth.” You nod seriously. “My plan would never have worked without him.”

“…pardon?”

“Nyeeheeheehee!” Grim giggles proudly. Crowley looks down at him sharply.

“Why were you on the opposite side of the mirror?!”

Grim’s ears flatten and he turns back towards you pathetically. You sigh.

“He followed me through it.”

“He did what? ”

“But he was helpful.” You acknowledge. “He wanted to impress you with the crown so you would take him on as an apprentice.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Do you believe I should?”

You stop short, but make the mistake of looking down at Grim’s big, pleading eyes. You sigh. On one hand, Grim was nothing but trouble. However, he had played a vital part of your plan- a part that without assistance would have most likely ended in your demise.

You look up at Crowley and nod.

“Well then,” Crowley says and looks at Grim. “You can assist Y/n on her next heist.”

You go stiff. “What.”

“If you truly believe him to be an asset, you should have no issue putting your money where your mouth is,” Crowley tells to you merrily. “If he successfully assists you with completing the remainder of your heists, I will take him on as a student. My, aren’t I generous.”

“Whoa-whoa-wait.” You wave your hands frantically.

“Ha!” Grim hoots, jumping for joy.

“Did you not say you thought I should bring him under my tutelage?”

“Well, yes-”

“Then it’s settled.” Crowley put his hands on his hips as he looked between you and Grim. “You will receive assistance with your tasks and he gets to validate his competence. What a stupendous development!”

“Wait.” Grim stops, the entirety of the situation catching up to him. “I’m not getting any credit for helping her with this?”

“Well, yes and no.” Crowley reasons. “Your reward is the chance to showcase your abilities!”

Grim’s ears droop. “This guy…”

“And you’re working hard correcting my papers, yes?” You butt in. Crowley bristles.

“Ah, yes, of course I have! But it has only been a few hours.”

“Wait, what?” You do a double take. “What do you mean? I left yesterday!”

Crowley stares. “Ah, I see. In the mirror, time flows differently. You were only absent for a couple hours, though I anticipated it would take you much longer. It’s quite a perplexing phenomenon.”

“…oh.” You were unsure how to digest that.

“Anyways, how was your debut heist?” Crowley moves on, going back to inspecting the crown. “I take it things went smoothly?”

Oh yeah. “Why was the Queen of Hearts a King?” You fail to keep the accusing undertone out of your voice. However, Crowley’s expression seems genuine.

“Pardon?”

“Yeah! And the card soldiers weren’t cards at all. And the Cheshire Cat was just a guy with ears!” Grim jumps in.

Crowley holds his chin and frowns. “That is strange- I’d like to question you further. Shall we get some food to discuss this over with? I’m sure you must be famished.”

You nod, baffled. “Sure. And can I open the shutters? It’s really dark in here.” You gesture to the windows, where only a sliver of sunlight peeks in through the cracks. Crowley grimaces. “No. And perhaps we should discuss that first.”

Chapter Text

After you explain the full story of your heist, Crowley fills you in on what had been happening at home.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are wide with horror. 

The wizard nods grimly, holding the teapot. “He seems to hold you in high regard.”

You stare at your reflection in your tea. “This isn’t good. I mean, I’m glad he cares and all but-”

“His determination may cause us all some trouble.” Crowley finishes. “Elson is a very strong sorcerer- the strongest the royal family has had in seven generations. Adding the fact that he is also a royal, he has the capability to be detrimental to our cause.”

Your head was spinning. He was a good Prince who cared for his subjects, that much was clear. But still, your life had no impact on his. Was anyone really kind enough to do something like this while expecting nothing in return? What could you even give him? He was the Crown Prince, and you were a street rat. It didn’t make any sense. How far was he willing to go to see you? You had to prevent him from finding out what you three were up to. You could feel the panic rising up inside you.

“Could you take him down?” You stare at Crowley, trying not to spiral. “If you were caught in a magic battle, I mean.”

“I could.” Crowley nods. “But not without difficulty. He was my student, after all.” Crowley stares into the tea, seeming to recall his time spent with the young prince. You glance over at Grim (who seems a bit perturbed), but he says nothing. “We will keep the windows down and give him no reason to continue this quest. He should soon tire and leave- and if not, I shall write the King.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Crowley sighs. “The issue would be aligning your time out of the mirror with his arrival, not an interest to interfere with my work.”

You take a deep breath and lean back, head spinning. You were grateful when Grim looked up from his tuna long enough to change the subject.

“What was the deal with the mirrors?” Grim suddenly pipes up. “Ya never warned us that the stories would be different!”

“I would like to remind you Sparky, that there was never supposed to be an ‘us’ in the first place.” Crowley tells him. “As for why I didn’t warn you… I couldn’t. I was unaware this would happen myself.”

You tilt your head.

“This was most unexpected- and I’m not entirely sure what catalysed the change.” Crowley puts his hand on his chin. “I can, however, make two plausible theories as to why this could have happened.”

You take a sip of your tea and look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Which are?”

“The first theory is simply the Butterfly Effect. The second-“

“Whoa whoa wait.” You deadpan. “I don’t know what kind of philosophical circles you think are happening in back alleys, but I have no idea what that is.”

Crowley backtracks. “My apologies. I forgot you were educationally lacking.”

Your eye twitches. “That felt like an insult.”

Crowley moves on, ignoring you. “The Butterfly Effect is the idea that a small action may lead to larger consequences. It’s possible that your very presence may have disrupted the fabric of the tale.”

You pale. “Doesn’t the Kingdom’s existence kind of rely on those tales?”

Crowley waves his hand. “The story is still together. If you rewrote a whole new one… Well, that would be catastrophic. However, despite details being changed the story has remained the same as a whole, therefore leaving the Kingdom unaffected.”

“…so the King won’t notice anything?” You ask, slouching like a child being scolded.

“If that tyrant does, then I will handle it.” Crowley promises. 

You look at him. “You know, for someone who works in the Big Man’s inner circle, you’re all that faithful to him. If you’re so ready to betray him, how am I supposed to trust that you won’t stab me in the back?”

“Two simple reasons.” He responds. “Firstly, the nature of our deal ensures that betraying the other secures our own demise. And second,” Crowley grips his cup a little tighter, the chandelstone ring glinting in the light. “You have earned my respect. He lost it long ago.”

You watch his jaw tighten and find yourself wondering what happened between them.

“What about the other idea?” Grim pipes up. 

“My second theory is that you altered the story yourselves.”

“How would I do that?” You ask defensively. “I don’t have any magic!”

“Don’t worry, you couldn’t have done it intentionally.” Crowley explains.

“That seems even more worrying.”

Crowley brushes you off. “Ultimately, the way a story is understood depends more on the listener than on the storyteller. Even if you use the perfect words, the interpretation happens in the gray area between people. It seems you interacted with two main characters and four secondary ones. Is that correct?”

“Yeah?” You shrug. “So?”

“The Queen being a King may be a result of your recent interactions with Yensid," Crowley explains. "Your internal bias and current expectations may have influenced the story, shaping it to match your preconceived notions."

“Ohhh…” Your eyes widen. “That makes sense!”

Grim frowns. “But I was there too, and I wasn’t arrested for treason.”

“Thanks, Sparky.”

“How come that didn’t change anything?” Grim continues, looking at Crowley.

“Perhaps it did.” He shrugs. “We lack a method to prove any of this, but regardless, there should be no long lasting effects.”

“I see.” You slump in relief.

“I apologize for the inconvenience.” Crowley nods. “However, with your skillset I should think you’re able to work around it.”

“Thanks.” You tell him flatly. “And before I forget, do you have a way to preserve this?” You dig into your caplet and pull out the tart. 

“Is that-”

“Yes.” You nod. “I thought it might come in use. Don’t forget which is the left and right one though.”

Crowley nods. “I can find a way- but it won’t be finished in time for your next heist.”

You nod. “Okay- thank you.”

The tuna can is slammed on the table. “All done!

“Good.” Crowley smiles. “Are you two rested?”

You see-saw your hand in the air. “Good enough- I was pretty anxious last night, but Riddle’s guest bed was so comfortable. I didn’t even knock my head on a lamp when I laid down.”

“Would you forget about the lamp?” Crowley huffs. “Enough. Let’s head to the Mirror Chamber- you have another item to obtain.”

***

Elson had just failed to magically break through Crowley’s hundreds of enchanted barriers, which unfortunately only meant that the bird had something in there that he really didn’t want people knowing about. He had also closed all the shutters, unfortunately for Elson.

The Prince panted heavily as he sat on the grass, having been at this without rest for some time. The spell he had just attempted had taken a lot out of him, but unless he intended to make Ramshackle live up to its name and risk harming you inside he was stuck doing this with his current method. 

“Wow.” An unfamiliar voice calls out, breaking the silence. “That was sad. You done yet?”

Elson whirls around and sees a cloaked stranger casually leaning against a nearby tree.

“Who are you?” Elson demands. The figure steps forward.

“None of your business.” The voice, probably male, spits. “Why are you here?”

Elson eyes the stranger up and down. After a moment he waves his hand wordlessly and a gust of wind blows towards the stranger. His hood is ripped off his head, and a sword attached to his belt is momentarily revealed. 

Angrily, the stranger steps forward. “Hey!”

Elson stills, staring at the stranger for a moment in awe. He had never met someone with the same features as him- eyes blue as water and hair white as snow. Light freckles dust his face. After getting over his momentary surprise, he narrows his eyes.

“Who are you.” The Prince repeats, standing up and clutching his staff. “I warn you, disobey me and you will face repercussions.”

The stranger scoffs. “Big words from a runaway prince.”

Elson’s eyes widen. “How did you-”

“I’ve been following you since the castle.” The stranger says, crossing his arms. “Why did you come here?”

Elson’s eye twitches. “If you’re such a talented stalker, shouldn’t it be obvious?”

“If you’re such a talented stalker, shouldn’t you have broken into the building you already?” He shoots back.

Elson scowls. “Someone is in danger. What’s your excuse?”

To his surprise, a range of emotions flicker across the man’s face. “Do you care about her?”

“What?” Elson’s eyes widen, and the man rolls his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about.” He rolls his eyes. “Your loyal subject?”

Elson pauses, but answers. “Yeah, I do.”

“…I see.”

The two stare at each other in silence, sizing each other up. The tension could be cut with a knife.

“You haven’t been all that successful at saving her like the Prince-In-Shining-Shoulderpads you seem to want to be.” The stranger says, shattering the quiet. Elson raises an offended eyebrow.

“You know, while you might not know the taste of success yourself I find it a shame that you can’t appreciate the finer things of those who have.”

The stranger’s eye twitches. “Arrogant shmuck.”

“Uncultured swine.”

“Prick.” 

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Elson says with a forced smile, gritting his teeth.

“You know she hasn’t even been in there for the past few hours, right.”

Elson’s eyes widen. “I beg your pardon?”

The stranger rolls his eyes. “It’s the reason I knew to follow you. Look.” Walking over, he pushes his cloak aside and reaches into his pocket to pull out a crystal, roughly the size of a walnut. It’s uncut and rough around the edges and entirely unassuming. Elson eyes it suspiciously.

The stranger holds the crystal up to the stone in his staff. The closer he brings it, the brighter both gems glow.

“What?” Elson turns to the stranger for answers.

“Y/n has one of these on her necklace.” The stranger tells him, still standing a couple feet away. He lets his outstretched arm fall to his side. “It glowed earlier when she was inside. But the glow disappeared, until about an hour ago.”

Elson falls silent, staring at his staff intently. His mind was racing.

The stranger raises an annoyed eyebrow. “Hey, you listening?”

Elson looks at the stranger and the man takes a step back. Elson’s face was filled with pure, frightening rage.

“You’re the monster who was controlling her?!”

“I- what?”

The next thing the man knew, Elson’s fist was in his face.

***

“Your next heist will be set in The Lion King.” Crowley says as he waltzes over to the mirror. “I trust you are familiar?”

“Hang on.” You put your hand up. “What the heck?”

Crowley scowls and places his hands on his hips. “I beg your pardon. I’d hope you’d have a bit more faith in me.”

“I don’t.”

“Well.” Crowley huffs. “You aren’t exactly Sumaritan of the Year yourself.”

“I got your crown, didn’t I?”

“That further endorses my argument.” Crowley tells you. “Now, you will be stealing the Beads of Persistence.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Would you. Just. Listen?” Crowley glares at you. You raise your hands up in defence. “Now, the beads must be crafted from-“

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa wait. Stop.” You wave your hands about. “The story is about a bunch of lions. Why am I grabbing beads?”

“As you have seen first hand, stories change and develop over time.” Crowley explains. “There is said to have been another version of the story even older than The Lion King. The jewellery was given to someone who was deeply cared for by the protagonist.”

Your eyes widen with interest. “There are older versions?”

“There are some that are older than we will ever know.” Crowley confirms. “Continuing on, the beads must be made from clay of the Pridelands and the bones of Scar’s meal.”

“…the bones of what now?”

“Scar’s meal. Any questions?”

“Yes, actually.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, you know.” You shrug casually. “Just the part of the plan that goes over what I’m supposed to do if, oh I don’t know… a lion attacks me? What’s the plan there?”

“Ah, yes.” Crowley nods and gives you a point. “I almost forgot.”

“You almost forgot?”

“This guy…” Grim’s ears fall. 

You grin at him a Crowley reaches behind the mirror. “Hey Sparky, you’ll get to meet your ancestors!”

“I’m not a cat!”

“Here you are.” Crowley says, tossing you a small cylindrical object with a button on the top and holding the leather backpack he had placed behind the mirror. “If you have a run in with any wild animals, simply press that button there.”

“What will this do?” You ask, staring at the object.

“It will produce a very loud noise.”

“…you’re kidding, right?”

“Pardon you,” Crowley says with an offended look. “No, I’m not. Now, there are other supplies I packed here for you.” He begins to go through it’s contents. “Two bottles of water, ointment for sunburn, a potion for a snake bite- though if Grim runs into a snake he could get swallowed whole. I would suggest avoiding them entirely.”

“Hey!” Grim stomps his foot. “I thought we were stealing stuff, not scavenging around!”

“If you find anything that fits the bill sooner, than by all means.” Crowley agrees.

“So let me get this straight.” You cut in. “You want us to track down a lion, steal bones from its meal, survive the grasslands, and grab some dirt along the way.”

“Clay, not dirt.”

“Oh, my apologies.” You say sarcastically. “Was there anything else?”

“…you could stop by Grim’s family reunion?”

“I’m not a cat!” Grim stomps his foot, scowling.

“Well, I suppose we should make a stop if it’s happening.” You nod. “That’s everything?”

“Indeed it is.” Crowley nods with a smile and spreads his arms. “Are you all ready to go?”

“No!” You glare at him. “I steal things, I don’t do extreme arts and crafts!”

Crowley sighs. “I guess I will just have to focus on finding a replacement for the beads. Who knows how long that will take me?” He gazes into the distance wistfully. “Days? Months? …years?”

You groan and run a hand down your face in frustration. “…fine. But if I get eaten by a wild animal I’m haunting you.”

“You have hung out with a wild animal for the past 24 hours.” Crowley points out, gesturing to Grim. You scoff.

“Oh please, he’s basically a glorified house cat.”

“HEY!”

“Well, that’s an unpleasant attitude.” Crowley remarks. “And after I was kind enough to pack you lunch.”

Grim perks up. “Is there tuna?”

“No.” Crowley says flatly. “I hadn’t anticipated two would be attending. But I did Y/n make sandwiches with the crusts cut off the sides!”

You deadpan. “Thanks.”

“One more thing.” Crowley says. “Your clothes are earthy coloured, so you will blend in well with your surroundings. However, I took the liberty to pack a shawl in your bag- not only will it shield you from the sun, but bright colours scare the animals.” He smiles. “Ah, but I am generous.”

“Duly noted.” You dryly respond and walk toward the mirror. Once you’re close enough you’re stopped by Crowley, who begins putting a thick cream over your face. Scrunching your face up, you move back as he puts a dollop on your nose. He frowns.

“Sun protection is important! Rub that in.”

You stare at him blankly. “…thanks.”

Grim looks at Crowley weirdly. “One second he’s sending us into a lion’s den and the next he’s giving you sunscreen. I just don’t get this guy.”

“Neither do I.” You agree and step forward. Standing at the edge of the mirror, you let out a sigh. “Great. More cats.”

Grim hesitates, staring at the reflective pool.

“You scared?” 

“Wha- no way!” Grim stomps his foot indignantly. “I’m a master sorcerer! I’m not afraid of some dumb animals!” He struts forward to the edge of the mirror and looks up at you with determination. “Follow me, Henchhuman! The Great Grim will protect you!”

You give him a disbelieving smile. “Thanks, Sparky.”

“It’s Grim.” He grumbles. “C’mon!”

Grim hops through the mirror and disappears. You pause, staring at the metallic current for a moment and shudder. Then, you follow Grim.

***

Hundreds of quivering soldiers kneel before the King of Hearts, whose calm demeanour may have had them fooled if they had not seen the stormy rage in his eyes.

“Well?” He invites from his throne. “Where is she?”

Not even the mome raths outgrabe.

Trey swallows and steps forward. “We couldn’t find her.”

Riddle’s face turns as red as a rose. “WHAT?!”

The soldiers flinch and tremble in place.

“We searched everywhere.” Trey begins to explain. “The castle, the gardens, the maze-”

“THEN EXTEND THE SEARCH!” Riddle screams and stands up, startling those closest to him. “DO NOT REST UNTIL SHE IS WHERE SHE BELONGS!”

Trey hastily bows. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ace and Deuce exchange a look. You had shown up for less than a day, saved their lives, failed to steal the crown, then stole it in front of the entire army, escaped, and made Riddle the angriest they had ever seen him. You are just too crazy to believe- a dangerous mystery. One that despite themselves, they want to solve.

“Dismissed.” Riddle growls, and storms off. The soldiers begin to file out.

“What now?” Ace asks Deuce as they walk away from the junction. Deuce frowns, an unspoken dilemma weighing heavily on him.

“She saved our lives.”

Ace pauses. It was brief, and anyone who didn’t know him would have missed it.

“Man, don’t tell me you wanna go off and save her like some hero or something?”

Deuce looks around anxiously. “No? And keep your voice down!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ace rolls his eyes. “No one’s listening. And whatever’s running through that head of yours, get rid of it. Hate to break it to you pal, but there’s not a lot we can do for her. Besides,” he grins. “She’s made it out of the maze, so she’s probably long gone. She’s practically in another world at this point.”

Deuce knows Ace’s smile is fake, but says nothing. It’s silent for a moment before his grin becomes genuine.

“She really made Riddle look like an idiot, though.”

“Ace!” Deuce hisses. “Shut up!”

Ace rolls his eyes and looks up ahead, spotting his senior. “Hey, Cater!”

Cater jumps and spins around, seeming a bit out of it. He quickly spreads a wide smile across his face.

“The Adeuce combo! What’s up?”

Deuce scowls. “Stop calling us that.”

“We were just wondering,” Ace says, shooting Deuce a look and bringing a hand up behind his ginger head. “You took Y/n back to her room last night, yeah? Did she happen to say anything that seemed off?”

Cater’s eyes widen for a second before he shakes his head, letting out a sigh. “Tbh, no. She took what she had and ran with it.”

“What’s Riddle thinking?” Deuce asks.

Ace jumps in. “You know, besides decapitation.”

Cater frowns and twists his hair nervously. “That’s the thing… did Riddle seem… off, to you?”

“Hm?” Ace put his arm down and faced forward. “What do you mean?”

Cater looks at them seriously- too seriously for Cater. “Riddle never declared that it was ‘off with her head.’”

Chapter Text

“She must have gotten lost on her way to the pigsty.”

“Her hair looks like a bush. I think those are actual leaves in it.”

Two small girls giggle loudly, clearly not caring whether you could hear them or not as they scrutinise you from head to toe.

They each wear a nice pastel dress and have their hair tied up into a dainty style. Their polished shoes shine in the light, and there are matching gold bracelets on their wrists.

You look at your feet as you hurry past them.

It isn’t fair. Why can’t you have nice things too? You clutch your pendant, which was by far the nicest thing you owned.

Arriving at your house, you open the door and step inside.

“Mother?”

There’s no response. Maybe she didn’t hear you?

“Mother!”

You run up the stairs and knock on her door. Not receiving an answer, you swing it open.

“…Mother?” The closet is wide open and empty. The bed is unmade. Her vanity doesn’t have a bottle left on its surface.

You don’t want to be alone.

You run outside, calling for her and looking around.

She doesn’t appear.

You handle this development the way any sensible five (and a half) year old child would.

By sitting down on the front step and bursting into tears. 

You don’t know how much time passed when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up, and are met with big blue eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You sniff. “No.”

“Oh.” The little boy sits down on the step next to you. “Why?”

“I can’t find my Mom.”

“What about your Dad?”

“He’s gone.”

“Oh.” The boy is silent for a moment. “I don’t have anyone either.”

“I do have someone!” You insist. “I just can’t find her.”

“Oh, sorry.” The boy says, looking incredibly guilty. “Why don’t I try and help you look for her then?”

You pause for a moment and mull it over. “Okay.”

“What’s your name?” The boy asks while standing up.

“Y/n.”

“That’s pretty!” He beams and holds his hand out for you to take. “I’m Odin. Let’s go find your Mom.”

You never saw her again.

Panic spikes up within you arrive. Grim looks around, equally as befuddled.

The sun was high and hot above you. The sky was a pale blue. The determined bug trying to bite you was very annoying. All of this, you had more or less expected.

What you hadn’t expected was a bustling town. Concrete houses line the streets with people sitting outside on mats that are covered with goods and produce to sell. People walk past in brightly coloured clothing, and you watch in awe as a woman struts by with a bundle of firewood balanced on her head. Due to your surprise, it took another second to notice that no one in the village seemed entirely human, each possessing some physical trait of different animals.

“Are we in the right place?” Grim asks, looking around in amazement. You don’t immediately answer, too transfixed.

“…hard to say. I think so?”

After another moment of people (animal?) watching you take off the backpack and dig through it, looking for the shawl Crowley had given you. You find bright red fabric and yank it out.

“Red?” Grim remarks dryly, ears falling as he crosses his arms.

“Yep.” You confirm, and wrap it around yourself. “Try not to think about it.” You sift through the rest of the bag to see what there is.

Medicine, two bottles of water, some food, the horn, sunscreen, a small handheld drill, and a ridiculously large sunhat (which had been squished down to the bottom of the bag.)

“I’m hot!” Grim whines, leaning against your leg. You look at him, feeling concerned. You were hot, but the little monster was covered in dark fur. You take out one of the bottles and unscrew the lid. Bending down, you angle it for him carefully.

“Take a drink, and try to stay hydrated.”

The little monster greedily accepts the water. Once he is done (and half of your first bottle is gone,) he jumps on your leg and climbs your body up to your shoulder.

“Ready?” You ask.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Good.” You take him off of your shoulder, place him down, and drop the hat on his head. Its brim droops down to the bottom of his belly.

“Hey! I can’t see anything!”

“Just… hold it up with your paws?” You offer. “I can’t have you getting heat stroke. Now c’mon, let’s figure out what the heck is going on here.”

After a while of exploring the area, you reach two conclusions.

Firstly, it seemed normal humans didn’t exist here. People don’t care to stop and check a stranger on the street, but your lack of fur could cause you a problem later.

Secondly, Grim is an extremely whiny tourist.

“Slow down!” He moans, trodding along behind you whilst holding up the side of the hat.

“Sorry.” You blandly apologise, stopping again. “I tend to walk a bit fast when I’m thinking.”

Grim pants as he catches up, though from your angle it just looks like the hat is clumsily floating along by itself. “Whaddya thinkin’ about?”

“Our aliases.” You tell him. “I think I’m gonna be a vulture.”

“Why that?” Grim asks, tilting the hat back just enough to peek up at you. “A few reasons. The main thing is that they don’t have any distinctive features like ears or a tail.” You begin walking again, slower this time. “Also, it’s a scavenger like the hyenas. I’m going to make the logical assumption here that our Scar guy is half lion, and his followers are part hyena. Following the line of the story, it might help us get close to him.”

“And what am I gonna be?” He asks, then smirks. “A lion seems fitting for the Great Grim.”

“Hey, you!” A voice calls out. You assume it’s directed elsewhere until it’s called out again. Looking around, you meet eyes with a fluffy haired boy. “Yeah, you!” He calls out and beckons you over. “C’mere a sec!”

You exchange a glance with Grim and head over to the blue eyed man, who had leaned back casually and placed his arms behind his head. You study each other closely.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

“Just wanted to know what you were doing wandering around aimlessly like that.” He coolly responds. “You’re an easy target for pickpockets.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

He holds out his hand for you to shake, letting his other arm fall down to his side. “Ruggie Bucchi. Don’t wear it out. What about you?”

“Y/n L/n.” You shake his hand firmly. “Don’t wear it out. And this here is Sp- Grim.”

He looks down at the little monster and casually moves his closest leg a little further away.

“And, uhhh…”

“A honey badger who drew the unfortunate ticket in the genetic lottery.” You tell him. Grim glares at you.

“HEY!”

“Ah.” Ruggie nods, still giving him the side eye. “Yeah, that is pretty bad, no doubt about it. What about you?”

“Vulture.” You consciously keep your answer short. You weren’t sure how people referred to their hybrid halves yet, and if the correct phrase was that they were “an elephant” or “part elephant.” 

“And you are?”

“A scavenger, like you by the sounds of it.” He replies. “I’m a hyena. Surprised it wasn’t obvious though.”

“Ah, well.” You lean closer to him and lower your voice as if divulging the darkest of secrets. “He feels better if I ask.” You discreetly point down at Grim with your thumb.

“Ohhhhh. Got it.” Ruggie nods. “Anyways, were you just hunting around for scraps?”

“You got me.” You tell him, raising your hands in surrender and praising the gods that he gave you an excuse himself. “Don’t suppose you got any?”

He waves you off. “Nah. But I’m willing to make a trade?”

You stand up straighter. “Depends. What do you have to offer?”

He pats the edge of the cart. “The stuff in here is getting delivered to the Royal Family… but they won’t notice if a few things go missing.”

“You work for the Royal Family?” You question.

He nods proudly. “Yep! Premium goods right here!”

A plan begins to form in your mind. “Sounds good- better than scraps anyway, you know?”

Ruggie raises his eyebrows, and you can tell you’ve earned his attention. “Yeah, hunting for scraps can get pretty rough. Don’t you wish you could do something about it?”

You nod. “Love to- those higher ups have no idea about the struggle of us common folk. No idea what I could do, though.”

“That so?” Ruggie muses. “How about this then: come with me to the palace. I think I know someone who you’ll wanna meet.”

“Why is that?” You ask, tilting your head. 

He grins. “Because this guy has a plan that’ll ensure we never go hungry again.” He leans back and puts his arms back behind his head, giving you a smirk. “But if you don’t wanna come, that’s cool. You can just go back to eating scraps again for the rest of your life.”

You grin, familiar with his tactics. “And what do you want for a ride and a few bananas?”

He smiles and jabs a finger down at Grim. “The whole reason I called you over: a banana each and a ride for the hat. Gets too hot to work sometimes.”

You smirk. “Sounds like we’ve got a deal.”

You shake on it.

***

Ruggie had to take care of business inside the palace and find the guy he wanted you to speak with. Because of this, he had dropped you off under the shade of a nearby tree and promised to get you once he had finished his chores. You watched as he drove his cart under the arch and into palace grounds.

The time had actually allowed you and Grim some much needed rest, even if you were growing antsy the more time went on. You slowly sip water and try to imagine what this world’s Scar might be like.

“Hey, are you Y/n?” A gruff voice asks a few hours later. You turn and see a tall, muscular man with pointed ears.

You nod slowly.

“Ruggie sent me to get you.” He explains. “I’m Jack Howl.”

You hold out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He shakes it, grip firm. “You too. Now c’mon. It’s best not to keep him waiting.”

“Who’s ‘him,’ exactly?” You ask, gathering your things and adjusting your shawl. “Ruggie?”

“No. Leona Kingscholar, the second born prince.” Jack starts to head off.

Grim cheers. “Finally! We’re gonna meet the big guy himself.”

Jack frowns and you cringe. “Sparky, please don’t call him that.”

Your guide was not much of a conversationalist. Both you and Grim felt too awkward to break the deafening silence, instead exchangeing an awkward glance when you entered the castle.

“Is it much further?” You ask as you head up the stairs. Jack shakes his head and leads you through a hallway and over what looked like the arch from what you could tell. You glance over the balconies on either side of the passage and the artifacts that line the hallway.

“No. It’s just up ahead.” He takes you just a bit further down the hallway before stopping in front of double doors. He knocks on the wood firmly, eliciting an irritated voice from inside.

“What do you want?” 

Jack frowns but otherwise doesn’t react. “I found the girl Ruggie brought.”

“…Bring her in.”

Jack holds the door open for you and Grim to step inside. You don’t see Leona at first as your eyes scan across the room. Finally, your eyes fall on the attractive man lazing on top of the bed.

Leona has long, dark hair like a mane, bright green eyes, and most importantly: a scar across his left eye from eyebrow to cheek.

You had found the Usurper from the Wilds.

Chapter Text

Now left alone with him, Leona stares at you, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. His right ear flickers.

“So.” He sits upright and lazily bats hair out of his eyes. He takes his sweet time standing up and coming closer to you, stopping just inches away. You feel bare before him, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You’re the bird and honey badger who wanted to see me.”

Grim shrinks inward, and you shift uncomfortably under his venom green gaze. “Yeah…”

He hums and moves so his head is hovering over your shoulder. You suspect he’s smelling you.

When he pulls away, he’s studying you up and down as if he’s searching for something. He sits back on the edge of his bed.

“Get on with it then.”

“What?”

Leona scowls. “Don’t look at me like that. You interrupted my nap, remember?”

“Oh!” Your eyes widen but you remain silent, uncertainty clinging to you like the dry land outside that sucks the life out of anything it touches. Leona continues to stare, his annoyance seeming to grow the longer you take. Your mouth starts talking.

“I’m tired of looking for scraps.” You glance down at Grim. “Like the hyenas. We’re both scavengers, and we’re hungry. We only ever get what’s left behind, and Ruggie said you were planning to fix that.”

Leona raises an eyebrow. “Did he now?”

“Yes.” You confirm. “He said that you were gonna make sure we’ll never go hungry again. Is that true?”

“Depends.” He muses. “What are you willin’ to do for it?”

“Anything.”

“Yeah!” Grim agrees with much more gusto. “I’ve got a hankering for some of the fruit we saw in the village!”

You strongly suspect Grim isn’t lying about that.

“Anything, huh?” Both you and Grim nod eagerly. He smirks. “You’re a couple of idiots.”

You gape. “Huh?”

“If you’re willing to do anything to save your own necks, how’m I supposed to know you won’t betray us if things get tough?” He asks and leans forwards. “I don’t take liabilities.”

Grim’s ears flatten and he takes a step backwards. “This guy’s scary.”

“I won’t do anything that would compromise Grim.” You straighten, blurting out the first idea that came to you. 

Leona raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

You nod. “Yes.”

Leona’s eyes sweep over to the pseudo-honey badger. “And you?”

Grim awkwardly looks away from both you and Leona. “I… I won’t leave my henchhu-vulture.”

Leona raises an eyebrow. “I guess I can tell you then. We’re going to overthrow the King.” He studies you both for a response.

You take a breath to try and calm your beating heart, meeting his gaze and attempting to be surprised. You don’t know why exactly you feel so nervous. You were usually better than this. 

Venom green eyes stare back at you. 

“You’ll be the new King?” Grim asks.

Leona grins. “Naturally. If you follow me, there’s rewards in store.”

You smile unsteadily, trying to portray a sense of calm. “So what’s the plan then? We’re all gonna uprise and attack the King in his sleep?”

“No. I don’t need brute strength to win a fight.” Leona turns to the closed door. “Jack!”

Jack sticks his head into the room. “Yes?”

Leona vaguely waves his hand in your direction. “Take them to Ruggie and tell him they passed. You two,” he looks at you and Grim, “be prepared for any news. I’m gonna take a nap.” He falls back on the bed and shuts his eyes, and seconds later his breathing is even. You stare at him, absolutely flabbergasted.

“C’mon.” Jack beckons. “We’d best get going.”

***

“Congratulations!” Ruggie grins.

“Thank you.” You nod. “He’s very…”

“Scary!” Grim shudders. “I thought he was gonna try ‘n eat us!”

“I was going to go with ‘intimidating,’ but that works too.”

Ruggie tosses you an unfamiliar fruit. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s too lazy to do much most of the time. Shishishi!”

You smile, amused. “You’ve got a fun laugh, Ruggie.”

“Oh.” Ruggie’s eyes widen for a moment, then he averts his gaze with his easy grin toward your fruit. “Hey, aren’t you gonna eat that? They’re the Queen’s favourite, you know!”

“I thought you were giving us bananas?” You tilt your head.

“It’s a red banana. You seriously never had one before?”

You look down at the vaguely banana resembling fruit in your hand. It’s smaller than a normal one, and dusty red in colour. You peel and take a bite, eyes widening with glee. “It’s good!” 

Maybe not quite as good as the chocolate cake you had in Wonderland, but definitely a close second. 

Ruggie smirks. “It had better be, since you’re not getting a refund.”

Grim munches on his fruit happily, chatting with Ruggie as you absentmindedly grab your backpack to pull out a few other snacks. You nibble on a bread roll as you organise your thoughts.

Leona is this world’s version of Scar, like how Riddle is that world’s version of the Queen of Hearts. That means that you somehow need to steal bones from his meal and find some clay to craft beads from.

You vow to get Crowley for this.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t actually identify clay from any other kind of dirt either. You had lived in the city your whole life, with cobblestone roads and wooden floors.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ruggie asks, lightly tapping you on your shoulder.

“How would you make beads?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow.

“Beads? That’s oddly specific. I’m not too sure… but I know a guy in the palace who would. She actually made the stuff Leona wears.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Ruggie nods, hopping up to sit on the edge of his cart and peeling a banana for himself. “She uses all kinds of stuff: seeds, metal, glass, bone, wood, you name it.”

“She sounds very good at her job.” You remark.

Ruggie nods. “She’s probably working on Cheka’s royal beads right now.”

“Cheka’s royal beads?” 

Ruggie takes another bite from his food. “Yeah. Whenever a prince comes of age, they make some fancy jewellery for them out of seeds, clay, precious metals, and bone.”

“Why?” You ask.

“It’s all supposed to symbolize something.” Ruggie explains. “I think the seeds are supposed to represent good rain or something, the clay is supposed to represent the circle of life because when we die our bodies decompose into the ground to make the grass- you know the gist. The gems are supposed to bring luck to the country’s wealth, which is how you know it’s all a load of baloney. And I think the bones are supposed to bring good health to the one who ate the meat off them.”

“Wait. The bones on Leona’s necklace are from his food?” You clarify.

“Yep! Gross, right?”

Thoughts whizzed around in your mind like a herd of wildebeest on the run.

The answer to all your problems was Leona’s jewellery.

The jewellery he was wearing.

Things were never easy, were they?

Chapter Text

"Hey." 

Bleary-eyed, you look to see who it is. "Jack," You lift your head off the ground. Unlike you, Grim is peacefully snoozing away in the shade of the tree you're both under. He barely stirs as you move him aside, simply rolling over and curling up again. "What's the matter?"

Jack frowns. "What are you two doing?"

"Sleeping. Or at least, I was trying to."

He furrows his brow as if concerned, but doesn't dwell on it. "Leona wants to see you."

"What?" You blink, your tired brain scrambling to find the pieces to put together. "Why?"

"I don't ask questions." Jack tells you and crosses his arms. "But I wouldn't keep him waiting."

"Oh." You rub your face, regretting it almost immediately. There's more dirt on your fingers than sleep in your eyes. Your hair feels horrible against your scalp, and you lament for Grim's fur. Gently, you shake the little monster. "Rise and shine, Sparky."

Grim whines sleepily. "Myah? Whasgoin' on?"

"No," Jack shakes his head. "Just you."

"What?" You look up and tilt your head. "Why?"

He shrugs. "How would I know? Leona specified."

"You gonna be okay?" You look back at Grim, reluctant to go. 

He yawns. "Myeah-huh."

You do not want to leave the tiny terror alone, but don't see another option. "Stay out of trouble."

He huffs. "I don't cause trouble!"

Sure.

You sigh and stand, stifling another yawn. "Okay then, Jack. Lead the way."

It takes about ten minutes of being left alone for Grim to almost die.

Grim decides to roll over and catch a few more minutes of sleep out in the open. It's cool, but his fur keeps him warm. Still, he moves out from under the tree and into the sun's rays, curling into a sleepy ball and shutting his eyes.

He's startled awake by the sound of flapping wings and squawking. Opening his eyes, he sees a flock of vultures descending from above. Grim scrambles to his feet and runs back under the tree for cover.

Thankfully, the vultures leave, uninterested in a meal that's alive. Grim pants, trying to catch his breath. At least I know I can run away from enemies.

His stomach growls. Being afraid always seems to make him hungry. So does most other things, but especially fear. Looking around, he notices a dark, shiny rock lying on the ground nearby and sniffs it.

It smells... rich and sweet, but a little bitter. He eats it, and is immediately disappointed. It's bland and flavourless, like a regular rock.

His stomach rumbles again, and he soon finds himself daydreaming of food.

The tuna cans Crowley had... and the tea... and the tuna... and that tart from Riddle... and tuna... and those red bananas...

Hadn't Ruggie said he delivered those bananas straight to the palace? Grim's attention turns towards the building. Those people are just hogging all the food. Surely they wouldn't miss it if some things went missing...

And even if they did, he is clearly an experienced escape artist. Ramshackle, the King Of Heart's castle... those vultures alone prove his skill and cunning. Besides, you have probably made it to Leona's room by now, and he knows his Henchhuman would feel safer with the Great Grim nearby to protect you.

With this concluded, he scampers his way toward finding a royal kitchen.

"Come in."

You step inside, Leona gesturing toward the table set up in the middle of his room. "Take a seat."

Morning light streams in from the open balcony, illuminating the table and chairs while leaving the rest of the room shrouded in shadow. A cold breeze drifts across your skin, sending a shiver through you and raising goosebumps as you sit in your chair. You hear a vulture squawk outside.

"Is this chess?" You ask him, staring at the checkerboard game on the table. He grins, giving you a view of his fangs.

"You've played?"

"No." You know chess as a pastime for nobles, but you've never been granted an opportunity. 

The Prince nods. "I see." He throws an arm over the back of his seat. "What do you already know?"

You become very aware of a clock ticking in the background.

"...Nothing." You admit. He raises his eyebrows.

"Oh really? Funny." He cocks his head. "I was under the impression you knew a lot."

You shift uncomfortably under his venom gaze. He picks up the smallest piece. "This is a pawn. There's a lot of them, and they're pretty powerless. They only have one goal- to get to the end. It's the bigger, more important pieces that give them purpose. They can only move one space at a time- two at the beginning if they're lucky. But ultimately, they have a slow, agonising journey across the board."

You watch him pick up the second piece. "The knight. They're reliable, and move in an L shape." He makes eye contact with you. "It's funny how players become dependent on using sneaky little strategies. Unfortunately for them, knights aren't that strong."

The clock ticks loudly.

"The bishop..." He lethargically sets the last piece down and picks up the next one, tail swishing rhythmically behind him. "This one's interesting." He says this as if noticing for the first time. "It travels diagonally, constantly steering clear of facing its opponent head-on. It's almost as if it wants to go unnoticed." He looks right at you. A smile breaks out across his face when you make eye contact. It looks unnatural and forced, as if his face doesn't know how to do it. "Isn't that interesting?"

"Yeah." You nod, shifting in your seat. You look at the pieces back on the board to avoid eye contact, and try repeating the information in your head. Unfortunately, it's all jumbling together.

Pawns are powerless.
Knights are sneaky.
Bishops try to stay unnoticed.

"Are you following?" Leona ask. You muster a smile to keep your mask. 

"I think so."

"Good. Shall we continue?"

"Yes."

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"The rook," he picks up a piece resembling a part of Riddle's castle. The sight sends your reeling back, his angry voice filling your head.

"Rule breakers must be punished."
"I doubt anyone would be so foolish."
"Do you seriously expect me to believe this nonsense?"
"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

"The rook moves boldly in straight lines. It never seems to shy away from the other pieces, and is always there. That tends to be why people forget it's danger- if they look too hard for something else they might miss what's right in front of them. You really have to be careful who you trust, don't you?"

Why is he telling you this? Do you have another royal after you? 

Forget you- what about Crowley? Are you foolish to think you're equal in this arrangement? Are you the one being conned for once, instead of the other way around? You know he's suspicious, and there's clear warning signs you're still opting to ignore. Why are you doing that? Is it because it's easier? Is it really easier to be sitting at a table with a predator watching your every move? Is your freedom worth the consequences of whatever Crowley intends to do? Was your life really worth the future of the entire Kingdom?

Is deceit the only way you're equal to Crowley?

"The queen can move as far as it wants in any direction, so long as nothing is in its way." Leona's voice brings you out of your thoughts, but your heart beats wildly. A breeze comes in through the window, feeling particularly cold against your skin. "Because of that, people think she's the most powerful piece on the board. But that's not the truth."

Leona picks up the last piece and holds it in front of you. "Without the King, the Queen is nothing. She's strong, but the King controls the game. If you lose it, the game is over."

He lets the piece drop to the table, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Yensid.

You look up and meet Leona's eyes. He's stopped smiling- you hadn't noticed until now. Venom green eyes bore into your e/c ones.

"So?" He asks, voice deep and powerful. "Shall we play?"

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The room is almost silent. The sound of the clock and pieces moving across the board have been the only sounds for a few minutes- something you wish you were comforted by. However, the silence is stifling, and you still have yet to know the reason for all this. Anxiety clings to you like the heat of the savannah.

"You're hands are trembling." Leona notes, breaking the oppressive silence. Are they? You hadn't noticed. "Are you worried about losing? Or is it something more... personal?"

You feel like you're being toyed with.

"I- you make me anxious." You respond carefully, lacing a lie with a truth. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

You don't know how to answer, choosing to focus on the board. You capture a pawn, and he hums.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"You took that piece quickly." He remarks. "Does that make you feel strong? Or are you worried about what I'll do next?"

You're becoming increasingly aware you're playing with a tamed lion. It's fun and games until he decides he's hungry.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Do you feel like you're making good choices lately?" The Prince askes.

Your heart pounds. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I would hate to see you try something foolish." Leona says, moving a piece. "After all, you work for me now. Don't you?" He looks at you.

"Of course I do." You answer quickly, trying to clear any doubt. "I told you I would do anything for you, after all. I want to build a better life."

"You did say that, didn't you." He muses. "Tell me. What part of that did you mean more?"

"What?"

Leona leans forward and closes the distance between you. "You said you would do anything for me, and that you would do anything to build a better life. Which did you mean."

"Oh, no." You backtrack. "I meant I would do anything for you to get me a better life. This is an exchange, remember?"

"You're avoiding the question." Leona notes. "Which do you mean more?"

How do you answer this? Yesterday he had scoffed at your declaration of undying loyalty. However, will he take your willingness to get to a higher standing as potential for a traitor? Which is the right answer?

Is there a third option you haven't considered? There has to be- there always is in situations like these. It won't be the royal family- he wants his brother dead. His followers?- no, Scar had left them to fend for themselves after he became King. A nap? He could have that if he just kicks you out.

Why did he bring you here?

What did he want?

What did you want?

Why are you doing this?

What are the answers?

Leona's venom green eyes bore into you. Suddenly, you hear footsteps in the hall.

They seem to be coming closer.

Closer...

Are those guards?

There was a knock at the door. Your blood runs cold as he looks towards it, expressionless.

"Prince Leona?" 

"Yes?"

"There's a thief in the palace!" 

Leona raises his eyebrows at the news and looks in your direction. Your heart stops.

"You don't say."

"Please stay in your room until we give the all clear."

"Whatever." 

The footsteps fade away. 

Leona leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. "Looks like you're stuck in here with me, Herbivore."

You feel like you're coming down from a heart attack, mind racing so fast it takes you a moment to realise what he said.

"What?" Your eyes grow wide. 

Herbivore? Did he mean something by that? 

Are you overthinking this?

"Don't play pretend." He growls. "You're not one of us."

"What- what do you mean?" Your voice trembles.

He rolls his eyes. "You came in here yesterday smelling unlike anything I've ever smelt before." He begins. "You're not from here, are you? Nor are you a vulture, or I'd smell that too. You dress in strange clothes and appear with what you claim is a mutant honey badger." He laughs dryly. "The story is so crazy most would actually believe it. Still, that doesn't change the truth." He leans closer. "You're nothing but a weak little herbivore parading around with lions."

You're frozen into place. You couldn't think of an excuse, reason, or lie to tell. All you could do was sit there, a scavenger silently staring into the venom green eyes of the Prince of the Pridelands.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"People say that people do dangerous things because they're very brave or very stupid." Leona utters. "But there's a third option: they're desperate. So tell me, little Herbivore." He stands from his seat and leans over the table, coming close enough that your noses almost touch. All you can see is green. "Which one is it?"

You sit there, gaping at him for what feels like forever. How do you play this?

You're powerless, completely cornered and at his mercy. Your mind can't come up with a way out of this. Is it over? Is this how it all ends?

Leona speaks again after a moment of silence.

"Why are you here." It isn't a question; it's a demand. One you can't think of a way around. Lying is pointless when he already knows so much. Could you have stopped this? Would he have still found out in the end?

"I... want your necklace." You admit shakily. You stare deep into his eyes, uncomfortable yet unable to look away. The tension can be cut with a knife.

He furrows his brow. "Why? To sell it? To win a bet? To boast you took it from the prince himself?"

You swallow, but remain silent. You are both so close you can feel his breath on your face and his hair tickling on your skin. 

After a moment, he leans back. He's silent for a moment. 

"You want me to give it to you?"

You jerk. "What?" 

Was this a trick? Was he just pranking you? Or would he actually help? 

You can't stop the hope welling up in your chest.

"Do you want me to give it to you?" He repeats, waiting for a response.

"Yes!" You answer after a moment. "Would you-"

"Too bad." He smirks. You deflate upon realising you have been toyed with. You feel like crying at this point: sadness, stress, anger, frustration, fear, guilt, and exhaustion all weighing down upon you. Leona continues, unbothered by your anguish.

"You came here to steal my necklace, didn't you?" He throws his arm back over the chair again. "I'm not sure why, but whatever the reason, you've gone to great lengths to try."

"I-"

"Well, little Herbivore." There's a glint in his eye. "I say if someone's got the guts to steal from me, they can go right ahead."

You blink, trying to digest his words. "What?"

"You're not the quickest gazelle in the herd, are you?" He rolls his eyes. "I said if you can take it, you can keep it. I don't care about the necklace anyway."

You hesitate, studying him closely. "So you're saying... if I manage to steal the beads, I can keep them?"

"You have to get them away too." Leona corrects. "These beads are pretty important to the royal staff, and I can't have you getting away with it in front of my followers." 

You stare at him in awe, unable to believe what you heard.

"Just remember." The atmosphere grows cold again. Leona gazes intensely into your eyes as he utters his next words. "If you're caught, the consequences will be merciless." 

He looks back down at the forgotten chess game and moves a piece, knocking over your King. "Checkmate."

Crowley stares at the mirror in horror. He's studied it from every possible angle, but the problem remains. The exact reason eludes him, but that makes it worse. Far worse.

He swallows hard, thoughts scrambling. His stomach churns. He knows what it was, but that doesn't make the situation any better. However, he knows what caused this.

What had you done?

Chapter Text

"Wait," Elson holds up his hand. "So you're telling me these stones do nothing but glow?"

The stranger stares at the Prince with his one good eye. "Yep," he pops the 'p.'

"So she wasn't possessed?"

"No-pe."

"So why did Crowley take her?" Elson stands up and starts pacing. "This proves he's planning something nefarious... she's in danger."

The stranger sits cross-legged under a tree, holding a makeshift cold press—ice Elson had created, wrapped in his old handkerchief—against his left eye, silently watching him. "Ya don't say."

"I could do without the sarcasm."

"Oh, could you?" The stranger asks sweetly. "Well, I could do without a black eye right now, so I guess neither of us are getting what we want."

Elson looks off to the side, muttering under his breath. "To be fair, you could have dodged it." Unphased by the stranger's withering glare, he continues. "Why are you here?"

"None of your business."

"How do you know Y/n?"

"None of your business."

"Why did you approach me?"

"Why is a noble prince running along after a lowly peasant?" The stranger quips.

"She is my subject, and she is in danger. It is my duty to protect her, and I don't trust Crowley. Do I need another reason?"

The stranger shrugs. "I just find it awfully interesting for a prince to be going out of his way for just one person. Even stranger, given that it goes against the King's orders." He gives an exaggerated gasp before continuing, voice like molasses. "Wouldn't that be considered treason?"

Elson glares at him. "And what are your reasons? No one lives within five miles of Ramshackle, so you clearly care a lot about her in one way or another. Given her... questionable past, how am I supposed to believe your intentions are pure?"

"As far as you're aware, I haven't done anything illegal." The stranger growls. Elson looks at him dryly.

"Exactly how a perfectly law-abiding citizen would respond, I'm sure."

"I didn't have to tell you any of this- I'm of more use to you than you are to me."

"Oh really? Then why bother asking me in the first place?"

"I thought you would have your uses." As a scapegoat, but he doesn't need to know that. "But I'm starting to doubt that now."

Elson glares at him.

"So what'll it be?" The stranger asks. "Are you with me, or not? I haven't got all day."

Elson pauses a moment longer. Ultimately, he doesn't have much of a choice. This stranger clearly knows more than he does... and when it comes down to it, he's confident with his odds if this stranger ever decides to betray him. "Fine. Let's go."

***

"You did what?" For what might be the hundredth time today, you feel like passing out.

"I was hungry!" Grim protests.

You let out a guttural sigh that comes out as a quasi-scream. "Oh my god."

"You should be thankin' me!" Grim shoots back. "I found out some stuff that'll really help us with our plans!"

"Our plans?" You scoff. "Please. Enlighten me."

"I know where the kitchen is," Grim declares. You feel the life drain out of your body.

"And how exactly is that useful?"

Grim pauses. "It was useful last time. That's for you to figure out."

You groan, running a hand down your face. "How did you even get in there?"

"Through a window." Grim says. "It leads to a room with some fancy vases and stuff. It was by our normal entrance."

You pause for a moment. "Wait, that's why there were guards in the area of Leona's room?"

"Yep." Grim smirks and crosses his arms. "But don't worry, I got away."

It took all you had in you not to punt him.

"Okay, look." You let out a defeated sigh. "For whatever reason Leona wants us to head down to some cavern or something tonight. We're going to go, and you're going to behave."

"I do behave!" Grim whines like a petulant child. "Speakin' of, why'd Leona want you in the first place?"

You give him a rundown of everything that had transpired in Leona's room, minus the close proximity and prolonged eye contact. By the end of it, Grim is definitely unnerved. 

"He figured it out just like that?" His eyes water. "That guy's scary."

"Yep." You nod. "And we've gotta go see him tonight."

Grim shivers. Unable to do much else, you break into your rations and pull out a bread roll, shoving the little monster away when he tries to grab one.

"You already ate." You grumble.

"But I'm hungry!"

"Tough."

Night falls. You follow Leona, Ruggie, and Jack to the cavern, feeling the air get hotter and hotter the further you go down. The humidity sticks to your skin.

"Where are we going?" You pipe up after a while, moving your backpack in front to press your back against the stone wall. You shuffle sideways, trying to heed the good old fashioned advice, don't look down. Still, you can not help but peek down at your feet. A few rocks crumble off the edge and descend into the abyss below. You feel your stomach drop with them.

"Down." Leona responds, fearlessly leading the way across the canyon and jumping to another ledge. 

You step onto a rock much further back, appreciating the virtues of terra firma. "No kidding." You hurry to catch up to Leona, appreciating the clear path this part of the route has. You join him on a ledge, eyes flitting to the wide gap that separates you from the platform Leona is eyeing.

"You're kidding me."

Jack joins you on the rock, taking a few steps back to position himself before taking a running leap. He soars across the chasm and lands gracefully on the other side, looking back expectantly. You stare dumbly at the drop between you.

"C'mon, Y/n." Ruggie encourages, jumping across to the other side like it's nothing. Grim peers down at the gap.

"It's... a little, wide, doncha think?"

"Yes." You agree without hesitation. 

Leona rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed. Grim lets out a yelp as Leona abruptly grabs him by the scruff. His yelp quickly turns into a scream when Leona leaps across the gap. He's quite literally dropped on the other side, panting.

Leona gives him a look. "Relax, you're not even doing any of the grunt work."

All four sets of eyes turn to you, and you look down to the chasm uncomfortably. 

"You coming?" Ruggie calls over.

"Yeah." Wishing you were anywhere but here, you sling your backpack over your shoulders and take a few steps back. You hop in place a few times to prepare yourself, swallow hard, run forwards, and leap.

You soar across the chasm, suspended in the air for a moment.

Then you miss the landing.

You scream and hold onto the rock for dear life, trying to find a proper hold.

"Leona!" You shriek as you start slipping. "Leona! Leona!"

He rolls his eyes and groans, waltzing forward and grabbing you by the collar. He stands and drops you on the ledge, legs dangling over the side. Leona adjusts the scroll in his pocket, seemingly more concerned with the scrap of paper than your life. 

You scuttle away from the side, still trying to catch your breath.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." Leona mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You okay, Henchhuman?" Grim rushes over to your side and props his front arms up on your leg to look at you.

"Yeah," you pant, eyes wide. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" Jack asks, eyebrows pinched together.

"Yeah." You nod, trying to assure him (and yourself.) "Athletics isn't exactly my strong suit."

"No kidding." Ruggie snorts. "C'mon, let's get going."

You'd get him for that.

"Hey, Leona?" You cautiously step onto another ledge, looking up at the lion. You note that Jack has taken the spot directly behind you, always waiting for you to go on ahead before following behind. It was both comforting and humiliating. "What's that scroll in your pocket?"

"It's got all my follower's names on it." He responds. You blink.

"You have a scroll with all of that?"

"Did you think we just memorised who all our loose ends are?"

...he had a point. Now that you thought about it, how did Scar manage to organise everyone in the original story?

"Here, Ruggie." He tosses it over to the hyena. "You take it- bring it to me when everyone's been checked off."

"Why are we here?" You ask, hearing voices in the distance. Ruggie turns to Leona but the prince just jumps ahead, tired of answering questions.

"Hey, Leona?"

You're ignored.

You huff in offence and hold Grim against you when you jump across another (much smaller) crevice.

"Leona!"

Both Ruggie and Jack look towards their leader, but you still gather no response.

"I know you can hear me."

"Then you'd think you'd learn to take a hint." He snarls. You frown, equally as irritated.

"If you don't respond, I'm going to make a really loud noise."

He snorts and keeps moving, so you stop entirely and start fishing around your bag. Curiously, all three stop to watch you. You pull out the airhorn and raise it above your head, plugging your ears. Grim does the same, realising your plan with horror.

The noise was so much worse echoing around the cavern- your own ears are ringing despite being covered. You can only imagine how much worse it must be for anyone with animalistic hearing- all three men have covered their ears, Jack even crouching on the ground in pain. A second later, you lower your arm.

"I warned you. Where are we going?"

Leona huffs and rolls his eyes. "Geez, if you waited a short while longer, you'd see for yourself."

"There's going to be a congregation." Jack tells you, eyeing the noisemaker wearily. You nod and stuff it back into the bag.

"Thank you, Jack." Trying not to think too much about what you had just done, you trot forward and look at Leona. "Lead the way."

He rolls his eyes and turns the corner. You scamper along behind him, Ruggie and Jack just staring at you in mild bewilderment and Grim with embarrassment. You follow Leona around the corner and stop, looking down with wide eyes. You gasp.

"Is that...?"

"Every one of the collective." Jack confirms. Ruggie smiles at you.

"Pretty cool to be part of it, right? To know you're not alone?"

You stare down at the group below you in awe and worry. If you failed, you'd rather not see what this many animal hybrids could do to you.

***

This was the weirdest day of your life- a statement that had gained significantly more status recently. You're fairly confident no other thief in history had ever formulated their heist whilst jumping for dear life during a song break.

You leap to another rock with Grim, narrowly missing the volcanic steam that sprouts up behind you. You look and check your spot is really as stable as it seems before turning your attention back to the musical number in front of you. You sat there nonplussed as Leona's followers marched in perfect coordination.

"It's great that we'll soon be protected! By a King who'll be all time adored!"

"...this is weird." 

"No kiddin'." Grim agrees, crossing his arms.

Despite the strangeness of it all, it was fairly enjoyable when you could safely watch it. You would go see this performance if it was on a stage, like some sort of musical... if you could afford it. The whole song and dance was spectacular, but it was so impromptu you wonder if the members were actually aware they were in a musical number.

"Leona." Grim points with his paw. "There!"

You look up just in time to see Leona jump down from his rock with a yell. Before you know it the rocks are splitting, shards bursting up high into the sky. The rock you are sitting on cracks and steam rises upwards from the break, the humidity burning your skin like the air itself had been set ablaze. Grim leaps up onto your shoulder and holds on tightly when the part he was on grows unstable, claws digging into the burnt skin. You spy a rock nearby and without any time to think or plan (which you hate,) you jump. You're only safe for a moment before the rock moves upwards unsteadily. You grip on for dear life, ignoring the pain that erupts from your arm.

You rip higher and higher into the sky, watching as even the other rock's ascending slows to a stop. Your halt was abrupt, but you were thankful nonetheless. You peek over the side. The drop below was even worse than before, and Leona wasn't close enough to help you if you fell.

"Yes our teeth and ambitions are bared; Be Prepared!"

The song seems like a background song in that moment as you stare at the only thing higher than you in the whole chasm: Leona. He meets your eye and smirks, as if pleased with your terrified expression. To avoid his gaze you force yourself to look downwards, looking at everyone in the chasm.

You were getting out of here soon: you had already set everything up perfectly.

"Hey, Y/n?"

You turn towards the sound of the voice and see a very prickly wolf standing behind you.

"Hey Jack," you greet. "What's the matter?"

"Where're you going?" You stare off toward the direction Leona had stalked off to. Despite being the leader he had been the first to leave, muttering something about sleep. Ruggie stayed behind to finish checking everyone off and planned to give the scroll to Leona in the morning during his banana delivery. You would have waited for him had the checkoff line not been as long as it was, and you were terrified of not finding the palace again.

"...the tree."

Jack frowns. "You shouldn't be sleeping on the ground. It's cold and there's bugs."

Neither were points you could argue with, but you had nowhere else to go. Jack lets out a long suffering sigh.

"C'mon. You can stay with me for the night."

Your eyes widen at the unexpected kindness, then narrow in suspicion. "Why?"

"Because you're one of us." He says simply. "And we take care of our own. Now hurry up before I change my mind."

Jack begins to walk off and your eyes soften. Somehow, you have a feeling that he'd never do that.

In a way, you envy him. He had the resources to bring you into his home, and the heart to do so. You'd happily do the same for others if you had the ability, but life had never granted you that card. The rich stay rich, and the poor remain on the streets. Only those with things to give could give to others, but most of the time they never do.

At least, that was what you thought until you saw Jack's house. Well, house is a strong word for it. It is more like a shelter than anything else- a cloth door covering the entrance to a den with one room and a dirt floor.

"Make yourself at home." He welcomes. You duck inside, looking around. He grabs with what looks like some flint and starts to build a fire, the light and warmth desperately needed. Grim takes it in.

"Wow. What a dump."

"Grim!" You hiss in embarrassment. "Don't say that. I'm so sorry Jack, it's... nice."

He awkwardly rubs his neck. "No, it's fine. I know it's not luxury, but it's a place to sleep." He digs through a basket, pulling out some dishes. "Are you hungry?"

"Heck yeah!" Grim cheers, punching the air with his fist. You feel more guilty.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't." He deadpans. He throws some meat over the fire, and you watch him as he starts to cook it. The smell wafts throughout the den, and Grim is practically salivating beside you.

"So, Jack." You ask him. "What made you want to follow Leona?"

"Leona has the strength and leadership needed to run the country." Jack explains. "People are dying out here with too little to eat. I wanna build a good future so my siblings so they can have good lives. And one day, I wanna settle down."

"Settle down?"

"Yeah." He nods. "Wolves mate for life. When I find her, I wanna make sure I can support her no matter what."

You stare at him, speechless.

"That... sounds really nice." You weren't sure how to respond to that. Whoever ended up with Jack seemed like a really lucky girl.

They mate for life, huh?

You choose not to dwell on it too much. After all, the very person you thought was your soulmate was the very reason you ended up here. Not that it was exactly their fault, but it hurt nonetheless. Better not to think about it.

"You're a really nice person, Jack."

He smiles. "Thanks."

There's a moment of comfortable silence between you, just staring at each other. Jack breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Ready to eat?"

"Heck yeah!" Grim celebrates, already salivating. You smile and reach for the food.

"Thanks Jack." You wince. You had forgotten about your burnt arm, but when you moved it it really hurt. 

Jack frowns. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing!" You deny. "I'm just hungry."

"Hungry doesn't make your arm hurt." He scoots over. "Show me."

Hesitantly, you give him your arm and pull up the sleeve. His eyebrows furrow.

"Did you get burnt in the cavern?"

"A little." You play it down, not wanting to cause a problem when he was already being so nice. "It's fine."

Jack scoffs and stands up, walking to get medical equipment. "You should be more careful."

Before you know it Jack is applying some sort of ointment onto your arm and wrapping it with a tenderness you wouldn't have expected from the burly wolf man. He's methodical about it, not spending any more time than he would need to. He doesn't even get mad when Grim starts trying to eat his food when he's not looking.

"All done." Jack finally pulls back. "You take the bed."

"Oh, no." You deny. He was already doing too much. 

"I'm not inviting you into my home and then making you sleep on the floor." He looks at you like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Plus, you're injured. I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

You hope your blush isn't visible in the firelight. You needed to get a hold of yourself- he was just being nice! This probably didn't mean anything to him, despite it meaning the world to you.

"Are you sure?" You ask.

Jack takes a bite of his meat. "Positive. Just curl up in there when you're finished eating."

That night Jack slept on the floor while you anxiously lay in his bed. You would be gone before he wakes up, and you wish there was some way you could move him to the mattress without waking him. You would make sure to put the only blanket over him, at the very least. It was the least you could do, after all. You fall asleep feeling slightly envious of Jack's future partner.

The next morning you stood under your tree, a ways away from the palace. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves. You were prepared. You hoped Leona would be. "For this to work, we're gonna have to get Leona alone. Unfortunately for us, he's surrounded by both followers and guards."

"So how are we gonna get rid of them?" Grim asks. Awkwardly, you bite your lip.

"You're made for this role Grim, but somehow I don't think you're gonna like this."

Chapter Text

“Luau!” Grim turns around, a lei around his neck and grass skirt on his waist. “If you’re hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

***

You don’t have a long time frame, and know it. You practically dive through the window Grim had scouted yesterday, rolling onto the floor with a thud. You make eye contact with a guard.

“Hey!” She yells, grabbing her spear and charging. You scan the room and grab the first item you see (which is a vase) and take off running. You ignore her yells and race up the stairs to the bridge. You need to time this perfectly.

You look down and see Ruggie’s cart rolling into the courtyard. You clutch the vase tighter and jump over the side.

Smush.

You smell like a banana. The vase smells like bananas. Your backpack smells like bananas. Everything smells like bananas. Hopefully the Queen won’t be too mad about her ruined fruit.

Ruggie whirls round. “What are you-?”

“THIEF!” The guards yell. 

“What did you do?”

“Sorry about this Ruggie.” You grunt, ditching the vase and scooping a handful of squashed bananas into your now free hands. 

Ruggie freezes. There’s something wet and slimy in his hair, a lump dripping from his head onto his lap. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. 

“Sorry.”

“RUGGIE!” Grim wails. 

“Grim, into the bananas!” You yell and start to climb out, trying not to slip on a banana peel.

“What is going on?” Ruggie manages to ask you hysterically as you climb out.

Grim jumps in, slamming his paws onto the pot.

The guards run up to the cart as you duck around the other side. You scamper away, knowing you only have a moment of time. Ruggie pales as the guards arrive.

“Fellas, wait.” He frantically waves his hands to get them to back up. “Let’s just hold on here for a minute-”

The hyena pats the spot next to him where he put the scroll as the smell of bananas overwhelms his senses.

Where is it?

Ruggie looks down and pales.

It’s gone.

***

You feel a little bad for using Ruggie, but you know he’ll be deemed as innocent (and you had sworn revenge.) Grim would take the blame for the vase and you had taken the most incriminating evidence when you had dumped the banana on his head, so the most he’ll be getting is a light heart attack. 

You run below Leona’s balcony, thankful that the area is devoid of any guards. Grim has done his job.

You stuff the scrolls into your bag and take out the shawl. You wrap it around the platform’s pole, hoping that Mulan’s story didn’t have creative liberties or whatever was making all these stories different at this particular part. You put your foot on the beam and pull yourself up.

“Herbivore?” You look up with a grunt, huffing and puffing from the effort. He probably heard you dying climbing up the pole- that’s embarrassing. You should probably start working out more.

You put both ends of the cloth in one hand and reach up. “Pull me up!”

Leona blinks as you owlishly before taking your hand. He lifts you up with ease and carefully pulls you over the rail. “What are ya doin’ Herbivore? And why do you smell like a fruit bowl?”

You watch as the dots connect in his head. He leans past you to look at where the guards are congregated, and his eyes widen with fear.

“Shit.”

“It’s fine,” you assure him and take a step back. You pull out the scroll and noisemaker from your hand and hold it up for him to see. “I’ve got it right here.”

Leona’s eyes lock onto the paper and he visibly relaxes. A smirk spreads across his face. “Huh, you’re actually good for somethin’. Who’d have thought?” 

“Oh, I’m very good.” You grin, grabbing the noisemaker with your other hand. “Remember this?”

His face falls in disbelief. “No.”

“Oh, yes.” You smile cheerfully and hold the scroll over the rail. “One wrong move and I’ll blow this horn loud enough to alert the whole palace.”
Leona’s face drops.

“I’ll drop the scroll too. There’s no way you’ll be able to get to it before, oh I don’t know… the twelve or so guards down there reach it?” You grin.“Checkmate!”

Leona stares at you for a moment as if your words are sinking in. To your surprise, his face breaks out into the most genuine smile you’ve seen him make. It isn’t his usual cocky smirk or smug grin- no, this is a real smile of pure elation. He begins to laugh, wild and unrestrained. His shoulders shake from the force of it.

You tense up, unsure whether he is breaking into madness. Should you make a run for it? But when you meet his eyes, they hold a glint of pride. He looks at you with pure admiration.

“Well done.” He congratulates you, at utter ease with his defeat. “So let me guess? We exchange the scroll for the beads- but how do you plan to get out of here, little Herbivore?”

You glance in the direction of the cart- the guards, Grim, and Ruggie have all disappeared. Leona hasn’t noticed yet.

You stare him directly in the eye and push your shoulders back to fake confidence.

“Let’s exchange, and then you’ll find out.”

Chapter Text

“Where is he?” Yensid demands. The guard kneels before the King, an armor helmet obscuring his face. 

“I don’t know, Sire.” He admits. “He isn’t in his room.”

Yensid frowns. This is most unusual. Elson has always been the picture of a perfect prince- a charming, elegant, rational man who acts befitting of his title and station. Did that peasant really upset him so much?

That would be improbable- he had never met her before. Maybe it was the nature of the trial that got to him. It really was a once in a lifetime sort of situation after all. Perhaps he just needs time to process, though Yensid will be having words with him later.

“Leave him for now,” Yensid decides. “If there’s trouble then the Prince is more than equipped to deal with it. If he has not appeared within a few more hours, report back to me.”

The guard frowns, though the King can’t see it. His helmet has been saving him a lot lately. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He exits the room, leaving the King to wonder where on earth his son has gone.

                                                                                                                        ***

Leona unclips the beads from around his neck. “Alright Herbivore, how would you like us to do this?”

“Wait,” you frown and tilt your head. “Aren’t you concerned I’ll double cross you?”
“Sure,” Leona shrugs. “But there’s not much I can do about it. I suppose I’m just not as dastardly of a villain as you are.”

You narrow your eyes and examine him for signs of lying. Y̷o̷u̶ ̸f̵i̷n̷d̶ none, but that doesn't mean much. He’s as dishonest as they come.

But aren’t you just as bad?

You shake the thought out of your head. Now is not the time to be doubting yourself. “Toss the beads on the floor by my feet and then walk away.”

He does what he’s told. You’re thankful when he’s back inside- he can’t see the cart anymore. Once he’s far enough away, you throw the scroll to the other side of the room- far enough he’ll have to walk over and fetch it. He rolls his eyes.

“Was that really necessary?”

You bend down and pick up the beads, never taking your eyes off of him. A smirk spreads across his face.

“So, what now Herbivore? What will you do?” 

You both know you’re not out of the woods yet- you’ve got him in check, but you haven’t won the game. Worse still, you literally threw away your greatest defense, but you need it out of your hands. 

Just thirty seconds more might change your fate.

“Have I told you about my mermaid outfit?”

“...huh?”

“Yeah!” You nod enthusiastically. “You see, I was apart of Poseidon’s Annual Underwater Festival Bananza not too long ago playing the bass and-”

Leona’s looking at you like you’re telling him the biggest bull he’s ever heard in his life (which you probably are) when you notice his ear twitch. You grab your necklace and the door blasts open. 

“PRINCE LEONA!” A guard yells. “GET DOWN!”

Leona watches as a certain genetically mutated honey badger scampers across his room in a grass skirt. Grim dives into your arms as guards flood into the room. 

Green meets e/c.

Then you step into the light.

                                                                                                                            ***

“Crowley!” You call out ecstatically. Your eyes lock on the door and you race across the Mirror Chamber, still holding Grim against you. “Crowley! Crowley! Crowley! Guess what I got~!”

You’re surprised to see him standing in the hallway in front of you when you step out of the room. He closes the door he came out of and looks at you cheerfully.

“Did you retrieve the beads?”

“Yes!” You hold them up for him to see. “I worked really hard to get them!”

“Your efforts have certainly borne fruit!” He carefully takes the beads into his hand. Then he notices Grim. “Why are you dressed in drag ready to do the hula?”

Grim scowls. “Nobody mentions this ever again. Got it Henchhuman?”

You do your best not to snort at the evil glare he sends you. “Got it, oh Great Grim.” You set him down and he wiggles out of the skirt and lei, throwing them onto the floor and kicking them off to the side with a huff. You can’t help but giggle.

“Was your time there preferable?” Crowley asks. You see-saw your hand.

“More or less- the animal thing actually ended up coming in handy, funnily enough. I really thought we would die in that one, so it’s gotta get easier from here. Thankfully, everyone was just some sort of animal-human hybrid instead of being full grim-lings.”

“Hey!”

“That is most unexpected. How unfortunate he did not get to reunite with his cousins.” 

“HEY!”

Crowley’s eyes widen, and then he snaps his fingers. “Speaking of strange…” 

“Is everything okay?” You look at him and raise an eyebrow. 

“Hm? Ah, yes…” he frowns, beginning to tap his foot. “There’s something I need to show you.”

You’re absolutely horrified.

The once silvery swirls within the ornate frame to Wonderland are now tainted black, angrily churning inside the frame as if attempting to splash over it.

Your lungs feel hollow. You suck in a deep breath to try and calm yourself to no avail. “How is this possible? Why is this happening?”

Grim yelps. “What’s the big idea? You’d better start talkin’, Crowley!”

The man grimaces, his usual cheery demeanour replaced by a more somber one. You’re not a fan of the change. “Regrettably, it seems this is the consequence wrought by the path you chose on your travels.”

“What?” The words only seem to half come out of your mouth, like the letters turn into air on your tongue. “We did this?”
“You’re the one who sent us in there!” Grim doubles down. “How’s this our fault?”

“I’m not blaming you.” Crowley sighs. “I, too, had no means of foreseeing this outcome. However, the undeniable truth remains: you must have played a pivotal role, inadvertently disrupting the course of the story.”

“And ‘stealing the crown’ wouldn’t have disrupted the story?” You ask, making aggressive air quotes.

“No.” Crowley shakes his head. “The crown itself is a part of the story. You did something- intentional or not, to change the tale.”

“We changed it?” Your mind brims with anxiety. It’s too much. Is this Crowley’s master plan? Destroy the foundations of the Kingdom and let you take the fall for it? Had Leona been warning you?

“The rook moves boldly in straight lines. It never seems to shy away from the other pieces, and is always there. That tends to be why people forget its danger- if they look too hard for something else they might miss what’s right in front of them. You really have to be careful who you trust, don’t you?”

You don’t even notice you’re breathing heavily until you’re gasping for air. You don’t want to be a bad person. You don’t want to bring the Kingdom to ruin. You don’t want to end up back in a cell. You don’t want to be alone. You don’t want to die.

You might be dying.

You claw at your head as if searching for a tether to earth. You’re gasping for air. You feel lightheaded. You can’t breathe. You don’t want to die.

…but if you died, would anybody miss you?

“Elson…” you croak. You barely hear Crowley and Grim screaming for you.

You don’t even realize you passed out until you wake up in bed. Grim sleeps on your belly, curled up into a ball on top of the blanket. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm.

“Snrk!”

You stifle a giggle when the tiny monster lets out a very big snore. You must have been out for a while. Carefully, you move your legs aside and step out of the bed.

“Snrk!”

You do giggle this time as you close the door, though you make sure you’re quiet.

Every part of your body feels incredibly tired. Your throat is dry. Your lungs feel like they’re hollow, though you’re able to breathe again. You feel calmer now- though you suppose you would after that embarrassing explosion of energy and tears. 

The world seems still.

You head down the stairs and poke your head around the corner, scouting around the kitchen. Good- it’s clear. You walk inside and start rummaging around for cups.

“You said you were fine.” 

You jump when Crowley’s voice suddenly cuts through the empty room and look up from the cupboard.

“...I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

He frowns. “I should hope not, but you have no need to apologize. What happened?”

“I-” you pause and think. Your head is surprisingly clear now, so you ponder whether to tell the truth or not. On one hand, it makes you vulnerable. On the other hand, it might lead to answers. To your displeasure, it’s hard to tell with Crowley. “I’m… tired.”

“I’m not surprised.” He nods and puts his hands on his hips. “It’s only been a few hours since you arrived, but for you it’s been a few days. Still, not a lot of time has passed. You have certainly been doing a lot since your arrival- and I can only imagine how terrifying it was to be captured by that King.”

“...it was.” Your voice comes out smaller than you meant it to when you remember that cold cell. The loneliness. The trepidation. The regret.

“Elson has left.” Crowley says.

“Huh?”

“You were worried about Elson before you blacked out.” Crowley moves to fill the kettle with water. “He’s gone.”

Of course he was. What had you been expecting? You’re nothing- just a street rat. Still, it feels like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t been… friends, exactly, but he had cared enough to come- and while that was terrible for you, it had meant a lot. Still, you always knew he would leave- people always do. Nobody likes you enough to be there with you. You thought someone did, but…

Crowley looks at you, alarmed. “Why are you crying?”

You blink back tears, determined not to cry now that you are aware of the tears in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re very obviously not.” Crowley moves forwards. He holds his hands in the air over you, moving them around awkwardly. He obviously has no idea how to comfort you. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Do I hug her? Do I wipe her tears? Hug it is then! No, maybe I shouldn’t touch her at all. Highfive of camaraderie? Heavens above, she's still crying.” Eventually he steps back and his hands drop to his sides. 

Well, you suppose, at least he tried?

“Why are you upset?”

“I’m just… tired.”

“No. That’s not all, is it?”

You remain silent, feeling exposed. Crowley sighs again, and you feel like you’re disappointing yet another person. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything. But if it would make you feel better to get it off your chest, I will listen.”

You remain quiet for a moment. The silence eats away at you until you speak.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

Crowley leans back, having not expected the question. “Surely that alone did not catalyse such an extreme reaction.”

You shake your head. “No, but I do need answers.”

“What suddenly makes you think you can’t trust me? We made a mutually beneficial- and mutually destructive agreement.”

“Some things have come up. And the mirrors…”

“I see...” Crowley purses his lips. “Well, you did pass out before I could properly explain that. Once Grim is awake I’ll explain it. In the meantime, why don’t you outline your issues with me?”
“Why do you need these objects so badly?” You ask. “And what do you have against the King?”

Crowley scowls under his mask. “That, I’m not willing to tell you.”
“Then how am I supposed to trust you?” You ask, your hysteria rising. 

“Alright then, a fair exchange is in order.” Crowley agrees. “Where is your family?”

You go quiet.

“Exactly.” Crowley nods. “We’re both entitled to our own discretions.”

The reality you always knew sinks in. You’re stuck. You can’t get out of this deal, or you’ll never be free. You might even be handed back to the castle guards, and although it may be selfish… you’d rather take a risk on this deal.

Crowley sighs. “I understand your apprehension. But you must remember that I need you as much as you need me.”

“But what happens when my usefulness is gone?” You blurt it out before you can stop it. He pauses, surprised, but thinks it over.

“Well,” Crowley hums. “I suppose then we’ll each go our separate ways.”
You have no reaction to that. The room is silent, which seems to alert Crowley. “The water has finished boiling. Would you like tea?”

“Yes please.” Your voice is quiet. You feel empty. If only you could rewind the clock- then you would never have convinced yourself you needed to go into the castle, you never would have been caught, you never would have been sentenced, you never would have met Crowley, you never would have made such a stupid, stupid deal, you never would have been to Wonderland, and then the mirror never would have been tainted, and then the world would never be probably doomed.

God, you are such an idiot!

“You’re nothing but a weak little herbivore parading around with lions.”

…he’s right.

The teacup is set down in front of you, and you watch, unfocused, as the steam rises from the surface and curls into the air. Crowley sits across from you, holding a mug of his own.

“...a compromise.” Crowley suggests, and you look up. “Upstairs, there are five locked rooms. I have never let anybody into them. You and Grim alone have seen one-”

“The Mirror Chamber?”

“Would you just listen? But yes.” Crowley nods, giving you a familiar look. “Would it help to ease your mind if I let you in another as a show of good faith?”

You stare at him for a moment before nodding. It won’t fix the power imbalance- but the fact he’s willing to compromise with you says… something. And you suppose that even if this is just for show, you have an extra piece of dirt he won’t have on you. 

He stands and grabs his tea, heading for the stairs. “Come along then. Bring your cup with you. Ah, I am kind.”

You follow Crowley back up the stairs and into the hallway, where he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. He unlocks and swings the door open, allowing you to peer inside. Your stomach drops.

“Why-”

“Welcome to my office.” Crowley steps inside. “I’m sure you can see why I keep it locked.”
You sip your tea, letting the drink warm your insides. “No kidding. What is this?”
“These,” he gestures to the seven portraits lining his wall. “Are the villains you will be stealing from.”

This did not make you trust him more. In fact, you took a step away from him. Did he… worship them? Was he obsessed with the villains? What did this have to do with Yensid?

“You seem more nervous than when we walked in here.” Crowley notes. “Is something wrong?”

“I- do you have a shrine for them you’re setting up too?” 

“Wha- no, of course not! What do you think I am, insane?”
You remain silent.

“I am not insane!” Crowley huffs. “These portraits are the extent of it- and I wouldn’t have put them up if I didn’t have to, anyway.”

“What do you mean if you didn’t have to? You’re already getting the items… are you part of a villain worshipping cult?!”
“No!” Crowley looks flabbergasted. “I beg your pardon!”
“Then why do you have the portraits in your office?”
Crowley lets out a long suffering sigh and walks over to the Queen of Heart’s portrait, grabbing the frame and swinging it open. Sitting inside is the Crown of Roses.

“First of all, they act as magical safes.”
“That doesn’t seem very safe. That seems more like putting a sign up that says ‘mug me.’”

“Would you just listen?” Crowleys looks like he wants to strangle you. “I need to keep them up as part of a prophecy.”

“A prophecy?” That, you hadn’t expected. “Does this have to do with Yensid?”

“In a way, yes.” Crowley nods. “But that is not for you to worry about.”

 “So I have…” you count the frames. “Five more to go?”

“Yes.” Crowley nods. “There is an end in sight.”

You nod. There is an end in sight. You still don’t trust him one bit, but… it does ease some of your concerns. The very nature of the deal is risky for you both, which is what provides you with security. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like he wants to string you along forever. However, you aren’t yet sure what to make of a prophecy. You remember what Crowley had told you when you first came to Ramshackle.

“Fate has brought us here together.”

You had been sipping tea together like you are now, talking about your future heists. And yet, you hadn’t taken it seriously. 

Does that mean your ending is already written?

“Thank you.” You nod, realising you aren’t going to get anything else from the man right now. Still, you have a lot to think about. Had you been fated to try and steal from the palace from the very beginning? What role do you play in this? Does Yensid know about the prophecy? Is Crowley protecting something? Who is the good guy here? 

Crowley cleared your name by convincing the court you had no free will of your own to commit the crime. If it was your destiny… then maybe you really never did.

“This is a pawn. Ultimately, they have a slow, agonising journey across the board.”

You feel even more trapped than you did when you woke up. You’re burdened by knowledge yet feel none of the bliss your ignorance is supposed to bring.

“But of course.” Crowley accepts your gratitude like he’s unaware of your turmoil. “Now, shall we go find Grim and I can explain the mirror?”
“He’s in my room.”
“I’m not surprised.” Crowley tells you, a small smile spreading across his lips. “He was very worried for you when you passed out.

Soon, you’re all standing in the Mirror Chamber, ready for an explanation and your next assignment.

“The mirrors, as you know, are usually metallic in colour. However, the one to Wonderland is currently churning with an angry black ink.” Crowley begins his explanation. “This substance is called blot.”

                                                                                                                      ***

Leona lies on his bed. The room is silent, and a steady breeze wafts in through the balcony doors. The conditions for a nap are perfect- and yet he isn’t asleep.

As soon as the guards left his room he had inspected every place you had touched. You had disappeared before his eyes- not a part of you remains. How had you done it?

A knock interrupts the atmosphere’s peace.

“Come in.”

Ruggie and Jack enter. They appear nervous- but their eyes are filled with intrigue. No doubt they’re hoping for answers regarding your sudden disappearance.

“She has magic.” 

Their eyes grow wide. Jack freezes. Ruggie’s jaw drops.

“That’s not possible.” Ruggie shakes his head. “That’s only stuff from fairy tales!” 

Leona deadpans. “She vanished from physical form right in front of me. Do you think it was just a trick of the light?”

Ruggie’s mouth moves to answer but no sound comes out.

“If Leona says she has magic…” Jack says slowly, “then I believe it. But it’s hard to get my head around- she slept over last night, and there weren’t any signs!”

“Really?” Leona looks at him, amused. “There was nothing? C’mon, Jack, you can’t be that dense. Use your head.”

Jack stares at the Prince a moment before his face goes slack. “Do you mean his ears?”

“Bingo. Glad you’re not a hopeless case.”

Ruggie double takes. “That was actual fire?”

“You don’t notice it at first since you just assume it’s fur like everybody else’s. That and he looks so weird you wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. But,” 

Leona says sagely, “that was fire. Plus, they smelled different.”

Jack’s brow furrows. “Different how?”

“Different as in not from here.” 

The words linger in the air, their weight suddenly crashing over Ruggie and Jack like water. They absorb the information like sponges, though they’re stunned by the sudden deluge.

“Then from where?” Ruggie’s words are soft, like he’s struggling to force them out.

Leona lays back down and shuts his eyes. “Who knows? Now alert my followers- tomorrow night there will be another congregation.”

“Wha- tomorrow?!” Jack splutters.

“Tomorrow. Now go- I’m trying to sleep.”

They leave without another word, and peace returns to his room. He closes his eyes, the silent atmosphere perfect for sleeping. Leona’s mind, however, roars.

Chapter Text

You had been living with Odin for a few years now, and the two of you had become thick as thieves.

Which was good, because that was exactly what you are.

As young children living alone on the streets, you needed a way to get cash. Too young to work, you had both developed quite a talent for pickpocketing.

“Look at her,” You heard a girl say to her friend. “She looks like Cinderella before the bibbidi bobbidi boo!”

Her golden locket? Gone.

A young boy cackled to his friend. “Imagine if that was your sister.”

His luxury wristwatch? Swiped.

“See that?” A teen pointed at you to her brother. “That’s what I’ll do to you if you don’t give me my bag.”

Her velvet purse? Conveniently in your pocket.

You headed up to the top of the library, where there was an awning just away from the public eye on the roof. Odin was there waiting for you.

“What you get?” He turns to you expectantly as he organizes your previously pilfered products.

You open the purse. “Ten gold pieces, a locket…” you look up at his face, which remained indifferent toward your pickings. “…and a Beast wristwatch.”

Odin’s eyes lit up as he snatched it from your hands. “Beast, huh? That’s one expensive brand.” He grinned at it.

You sat down next to him and grinned. “That’s probably a few hundred gold pieces alone.”

Odin studied it, turning it around in his hand as if to not miss an inch. “You did great, Star.”

Your cheeks heated at the praise. “I’m really glad you think so, Odin.”

“What is blot, exactly?” You ask.

“Blot is formed when a mage casts a spell. Observe,” Crowley whips out his staff and holds it out for you to see. A crystal is hidden beneath the iron crow on the end. “Do you see that the stone is clear?”

You both nod. 

Crowley waves his staff, making Grim levitate into your arms. You catch him mid air, though Grim looks annoyed at being the subject of the spell. He refuses to leave your arms as you try to set him down.

“Now, direct your attention to the magestone.” Crowley holds it out for you to see. You give up after Grim claws your arm and hold him up to look at the gem. 

“Myah! The magestone looks all grungy now.” Grim wipes the stone, but the dark smudge that’s inside doesn’t come out. “It won’t rub off!”

“Precisely.” Crowley puts the pen away and places his hands on his hips. “That inky black stain is the byproduct of spellcasting known as ‘blot.’”

“Ew! That’s capital-G gross.” Grim sticks out his tongue.

You tilt your head. “Will it come out eventually?”

“It will.”

“Phew. Had me worried there,” Grim sighs in relief. “So that happens when I use magic?”

“It does. But with sufficient rest, blot will vanish from your magestone.” Crowley assures him. “This is why a magestone is so valuable to magic users. Not only does it aid in your casting, it also serves as a lightning rod of sorts, to prevent blot from accumulating within the caster.”

“What would happen if there was too much blot inside a gem?” You ask.

“Then that would cause the user to overblot.” Crowley explains.

“Oh great.” You sigh. “I hate that already. What’s it mean?”

Crowley’s face darkens. “It means that the user has too much blot accumulation combined with negative energy, and the forces will overtake them, turning them into a monster set on nothing but destruction.”

Great, yet another reason to hate magic. Seriously, why is this even legal?

Grim cowers in your arms. “Wait, does this mean-”

“No, Grim.” Crowley shakes his head. “You are highly unlikely to overblot.”

“Phew!” Grim sighs again, then pauses. “Wait, why?”

“Only the strongest mages have the capability to overblot. It is highly improbable that you have the potential.”

“Hey!”

“Well, that is a relief.” You sigh. “One less thing I have to worry about. But why is there blot in the mirror?”

“Well, have you ever considered why some have the ability to use magic?” Crowley asks. You shake your head no. “It is because the stories are written that way. We all rely on the foundation they create for our world- simply put, the blot is essentially the ink used to write our tales. Those who are gifted with magic simply have the ability to channel that power.”

“Wait, so then how can magic be safe to use? Also, what do you mean ‘our tales?’ Are we in a story?” Your eyes widen in horror. Seriously, how is any of this legal?

“It’s harmless in small amounts, and with a good diet and plenty of sleep, most of the blot will clear away- and stories are always being written, and always recorded. However,” Crowley explains. “You have somehow disrupted Alice’s tale, which has caused the ink to bleed. Therefore-”

“The ink poured into the portal.” You pale. What had you even done?

“The story should have returned to normal after you departed.” Crowley explains. “However, you caused a lasting change in the tale that’s different from its original path.”

“So what’ll happen now?” Grim asks.

“I don’t know. There hasn’t seemed to be any immediate changes, but the situation must be monitored. Just be sure to be cautious from this point forward.” 

You nod, mind reeling. You hope nothing happens as a result of the blot, but… you aren’t naive enough to expect it.

“So what now?” You ask him. “Are we going in again?”

“You are.” Crowley nods. “Five more times.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Just five more times, and then you’ve gotta teach me how to be a great mage!” Grim hoots. “Just you wait Crowley, I’m gonna be a better mage than you ever were!”

“Yes.” Crowley agrees flatly. “I’m sure you will.”

“Where to?” You interject.

“Ah, yes, of course. Your next heist will take place in The Little Mermaid.”

“Wait.” You look at Crowley like he has two heads. “I might tell people I was in Poseidon’s Annual Underwater Festival Bananza, but that doesn’t mean I actually was.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

You wave him off. “It comes up a lot. Point is, you just sent me into the savannah with a bunch of lions. I know, lucky me, they were measly oxygen breathers. But how do you think that-”

“You should not need to go below the surface to steal this object.” Crowley assures you.

You nod. “Good. What are we stealing, a dinglehopper?”

“No, the-”

“Snarfblatt?”

“No, it’s-”

“It’s not the statue, is it?” Grim crosses his arms and his ears fall flat.

“No! Would you listen?” Crowley put his hands on his hips and scowls at you both. “You will need to retrieve the Shell of Silence. If you remember the story, the Sea Witch traps Ariel’s voice inside a seashell when the princess exchanges it for human legs. Ursula later uses it to trap Eric in a spell.”

“Oh.” You nod. “That’s fine then. No more arts and crafts, thank you very much. I never went to Kindergarten, and I’m not exactly in a hurry to make it up.”

Crowley’s eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion, but only for a moment. You wonder if you had imagined it entirely. “Unfortunately that couldn’t be helped. But no, none of the other heists should involve an element of artisanal nature.

“They’d better not.” You shoot him the evil eye, which he brushes off.

“Now, I have something for you.” Crowley smiles and waves his hand, magically producing the item in his hand. He unwraps the cloth around it to reveal your tart.

“Ooh, yay!” You cheer, putting Grim down and clapping your hands.

Grim smiles, running up beside you. “Yummy!”

You shoot him a glare. “Not for you.” He laughs sheepishly. You take the tart and stuff it in your rucksack, wrapping it back in the napkin and in the shawl to protect it.

“Now, you’ve done this a few times so I trust you’re well acquainted with the procedure.”

“Yep.” You nod at Crowley and swing the backpack over your shoulder. “Go in, grab the necklace, get out, don’t change anything.”

“Precisely.” Crowley nods. “Are you absolutely certain you’re ready?”

“I’m fine.” You respond with an annoyed frown. You had a little incident, but now you were fine. He doesn’t need to treat you like a kid.

“So long as you’re sure.” Crowley purses his lips. “Step through this mirror here- good luck!”

You take one last look at the mirror to Wonderland. It still churns and bubbles angrily like the most potent of liquids.

You can’t let that happen again.

You take a deep breath and step through the portal.

You arrive in the middle of a seaside town bustling with people. Grim appears at your feet a second later, looking around the area. You see ships docking in at the port, fishermen walking around with their nets and rods, merchants selling goods and wares, families strolling around together, parents swinging their children around in a circle, and…

…and there are merchants!

Shaking your head, you urge yourself to focus. You seem to be in some sort of town center area with buildings lining the streets. 

You take in a deep breath of fresh sea air and marvel at the ocean. You walk closer heading down some steps onto the wooden footpath of the docks. You stare out at the vast blue water, sparkling in the sunlight. Looking down by your feet you see the waves splash against the support poles rhythmically.

“It’s beautiful.” You sigh, looking out in wonder. It must be the biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Yeah.” Grim agrees, crossing his arms. “I’ve never been to the ocean.”

“Me either. It’s my first time.”

It’s here and now you come to a decision: there’s not a pumpkin’s chance past midnight you are getting in the water. Just no. The sea is essentially an abyss, and one you do not plan on exploring. Especially one where mermaids exist, because if they exist then who knows what else could. Sea monsters? Sea dragons? Sea… other creatures? You couldn’t be paid to go in there.

…okay maybe you could be paid, but it would have to be a lot of money. Thankfully, Crowley said it wouldn’t be necessary.

You turn to head back up the stairs to the town and find a lead. You doubt you’ll find anything at the port. 

The town seems to be fairly happy, and children skip around with smiles. People eagerly crowd around one building in particular, and you almost walk into many of the individuals who eagerly bustle around it. You continue to wander around the village, not finding anything particularly useful.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You groan in annoyance. “We don’t even know where exactly we are, let alone where the little mermaid is supposed to be.”

“We could get some food?” Grim suggests with a smile. “I think better on a full stomach. D’you think they have tuna?”

“We don’t have money, Sparky.”

“You haven’t pickpocketed anyone since we’ve been here?” Grim gapes.

“...we haven’t got any extra money, Sparky.”

“But we have money for tuna!”

You sigh. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re gonna have to split up to cover more ground- you head that way,” you point back in the direction you came from, “to explore the other side of town. Keep a lookout for bright red hair or a place to stay. I’ll keep going this way, and we’ll meet back at the town center when the sun starts to set. Can you handle that?”

He crosses his arms and smirks. “The Great Grim can handle anything.”

You let out a sigh that comes out mixed with a groan and drag a hand down your face. “Fine, but stay out of trouble? No more sneaking in through windows!”

“That came in handy!”

“Not the point!”

“Fine.” He agrees, ears flattening before a smile breaks out across his face. “I’ll be on my best behaviour! Meet you back at sundown!”

He scampers off before you can say anything, one destination in mind: the busy building where a yummy smell was coming from. What you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, right? He’d get the searching done after one teensy little detour.

He arrives at the foot of the building, running into the alley at the side to look for an open window. He grins when he finds one, hopping up and wiggle through it. You don’t know what you’re talking about, saying not to go through open windows. They’re the best!

Once inside, he finds himself in a kitchen. Workers run around preparing food, not paying particular attention to the small gray monster on the floor. Grim ducks under a counter for cover and sniffs the air.

So many delicious smells! Fresh seafood is food heaven. Grim practically salivates at the thought alone.

“Here!” A chef calls, setting something atop a nearby counter. “I’ll leave this out here for you.”

“Thanks!” His colleague calls over before directing his focus back to finishing up his current task.

There, on the counter, completely unguarded, is the ultimate prize: a whole fish. He doesn’t know what kind, but he’s sure it’s gonna be tasty. With a chuckle, Grim scampers over under various work benches.

He hops up onto the counter, and sees the beautiful, beautiful prize right in front of him! Its flesh- a vibrant coral-pink marbled with delicate white ribbons of fat that gleam like satin under the light. It carries the faintest whisper of the sea—fresh, briny, and clean, as if it’s just brushed against ocean waves. The surface is smooth and supple, almost jewel-like, daring you to admire it a little longer before indulging. It’s both untamed and refined, the perfect balance of nature’s artistry and culinary promise.

Grim stares at it, drooling. Its colour turned a blush pink in the light, like it knows it’s too good for the oven. These people wouldn’t know how to appreciate it properly! It deserved nothing but the best- really, it’s in the fish’s best interest to be in his belly. He takes it in his paws greedily, ready to take a bite.

“RACOON!”

Grim jumps and looks around, still holding the fish in his paws. “I’m not a racoon!”

“It talks! Demon racoon! Get the manager!” The chef screeches, taking a carving knife into his hands.

“...meow?”

Seconds later and the room is in chaos. Grim bolts across the room, fish in hand, running for the window. The supposed manager comes in, staring bewilderedly at the scene. Chefs dive out of the way so as not to get near the devil whilst others dive to try and catch it. Grim dodges them all with expert agility (if he does say so himself) before leaping up onto a table and leaping out the window.

He lands in the alleyway, still holding his precious fish. Quickly he scampers further away from the main road, zig zagging through the paths until he arrives at the outskirts of town. He pants to catch his breath, appreciating his view of the ocean and his fishy prize.

Wait… there’s another smell too. He sniffs around and follows his nose to a slightly grassy area. There, sitting on the ground, is another one of those rocks he found earlier. It smells different this time. Without a second thought, it goes down the hatch.

Just as disappointing as before. It smelt like it’d have a real mature taste- slightly bitter yet tangy. 

It was a disappointing side for his fish.

Grim had scampered off before you could say anything else, much to your displeasure. You didn’t like the look he made on his face before he left. You groan and walk forwards, wondering if you made a grievous mistake.

You haven’t been very successful in your hunt for clues on your own either. In fact, you’ve wandered for so long you’ve reached the outskirts of town and have arrived at a sandy beach. You sigh and sit, taking a breath for a moment to relax.

If you don’t find anything that’s fine, time moves differently in the stories than in… reality? You’re not quite sure, since this all seems so real too. Did this place even exist, or was it just an illusion? It didn’t seem that way, but you suppose that would be the entire point of the mirage. Surely these places must exist though- after all, you brought the solid proof back with you each time. But then what was the place you came from? That was reality, and when that was reality this was nothing but a fairy tale.

Maybe reality really was subjective. After all, Crowley had theorised that the stories had altered originally based on your own expectations and perception. Maybe this reality was still reality, just a different one from yours.

Then what had you done to Wonderland’s reality? Had you permanently damaged theirs? Would it impact yours?

You really need to stop thinking about this.

If you do end up staying in this world longer than expected, you’re not worried about accommodations. You’re used to sleeping on the floor, so the biggest problem would be accidentally missing the main plot- that would be a problem. Supposing that you miss the important moments entirely, Ariel could be out of the ocean and have defeated Ursula before you would even get a chance to see the shell. What then?

You stare off at the water, letting the rhythmical waves and peaceful atmosphere calm you. You like the ocean… so long as you don’t have to go in it. The singing is nice too.

…wait, singing?

You stand and grab your backpack, looking towards the sound of the voice. If there’s one thing you’ve picked up on, it’s that music breaks only happen around important characters. You rush off in the direction of the voice, slower than usual due to the sand.

You round the corner so quickly you almost interrupt the scene, so you crouch down behind a rock to watch and hide from it. The moment is both exactly the same and entirely different from what it’s supposed to be.

Well, what had you been expecting? Every other story had been slightly off, and now you know that this will be the same. Instead of Prince Eric and Princess Ariel, you’ve got… Princess Raven-hair with Prince Apple Head. The girl is lying on the beach in a tattered dress, hair soaked and eyes shut. The red haired man (who you blush at the mere sight of- honestly, why did he have to be shirtless?????!) is gently moving hair out of the girl’s face as he gazes down at her.

You sigh in relief- the story is just beginning. You have plenty of time to get that necklace.

…still… where is that dog? Isn’t the dog supposed to come and find her? Where is he?

“MY FISH!” Grim screeches, running with half of it slung over his shoulder.

“WOOF!” A dog barks excitedly.

“Max! Come back!” A lanky graying man runs after them both, lamenting his luck and desperately hoping the princess was alright.

You’re getting concerned when the merman finishes singing his song a third time. By then, even the magic of musical theatre doesn’t seem to be keeping him engaged, and he’s looking around with worry. The Princess is still out, and it’s not looking good. Her condition is getting worse by the minute- she needs help immediately.

But what if you disrupt the story?

You feel a pit in your stomach at just the thought. You were here for your freedom, but there isn’t much point being free in a world that is crumbling down around you. Besides, you have been feeling guilty for a whole lot of things recently. You don’t need something else to add to the pile.

Once red head starts slapping the Princess across the face to wake her up, you realize you need to do something now. If the princess dies, you have a feeling that’ll cause more damage to the story (and completely erase your chances of getting the necklace!) than anything you could do right now.

Probably.

It seems the story really needs some kind of external trigger to wake her, much to your annoyance. You supposed that if the Prince slapped her and she woke up, she would have a pretty good face to put with the voice and the story would be over. However, if you went over, the merman might get spooked and never return to the surface.

There is only one thing for it.

“Woof!”

The merman stops hitting her in the face and sits upright, at alert. You die inside behind the rock, taking in another deep breath as your shame rises to new levels.

“Woof!”

The Princess begins to stir, much to your relief and shame. Noticing this, the merman dives back into the water and submerges himself before she can see him. The Princess sits upright, looking out toward the water in confusion. Suddenly she begins to cough, hacking up water from deep within her lungs.

Oh bother.

Without much choice you rush over, hitting her on the back to help her get rid of the fluid in her lungs. She collapses on you with a cough, blinking up at you tiredly.

“Thank… you…”

“You’re gonna be fine.” You go to assure her. “Where do you live?”

“The… castle…”

“...and where is that?’

She coughs again and you steady her. You take her right arm and wrap it around your shoulders and move into a crouch. “Here, try and stand.”

Slowly, you help her get to her feet. She’s too wobbly to stand on her own, so you end up acting as her personal human crutch as you guide her off the beach.

“Where’s the castle?” You ask again.

Once she’s choked out a response, you haul her back to the village. You need to get her there quickly, or else the story, your heist, and the future of your world may all die with her.

“Princess!” A man calls out when he sees you approaching with her slung over your shoulders. “We thought you were dead!”

“She needs a doctor!” You call out.

Absolute panic. Guards rush over, hoisting her into their arms and taking her away. It all happens too fast to react- she is in your arms one moment and then gone the next. There’s yelling, running, pushing… The guards rush her inside the castle and close the gates, shutting you outside.

You stand there blankly. You can’t help but feel a bit put off. You know it’s selfish and you know there are bigger problems right now, but would a thank you for finding their princess have killed them?

By now the sun is setting. Your shadow is growing longer, marking the night’s fast approach. You doubt you’re going to be let into the castle, so you head back to the town square. Hopefully Grim has been more productive than you had.

“Anything?” You ask.

“Nope.” Grim shakes his head moodily and crosses his arms. “The people here sure don’t like to share.”

“I didn’t get any information either.” You sigh and take a seat on the edge of the fountain, putting your face in your hands. “I ran into the Little Merman though, and the princess.”

“They’re different too?” Grim crosses his arms thoughtfully.

“Yep.” You yawn. “It wasn’t very useful as far as meetings go, though.”

“Excuse me?” A voice calls out. Grim squeaks beside you, only making you more suspicious of the two strangers approaching you.

“Us?” You ask.

“Who else could it be?” One of the two men askes grumpily. You glance around and notice that you’re the only ones left in the square. The men stop, their stature alone towering over you.

“I’m Jade, and this is my brother Floyd.” The first man says politely.

“I see the resemblance.”

“Yeah, but I’m the better looking twin, right?” Floyd asks with a grin, his scowl disappearing into a smirk. He gives you a wink.

“Now Floyd, please leave it be.”

“Can I help you?” You ask, not missing the way Grim fidgets beside you. You shoot him a look. What did you do?

Before he can respond, Jade laces his fingers and gives you a smile that shows off his teeth. Your stomach sinks- they are much sharper than any human’s. “I’m terribly sorry for the interruption, but your pet stole food from our establishment. Would you mind coming with us to establish some form of payment?”

Chapter Text

The slow turn of your head toward Grim is enough to let him know that he’s doomed. The monster gulps, unsure which party he’s more afraid of: the two six foot tall twins who eerily smile at him with their sharp teeth or the h/c haired girl sitting beside him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” He tries to deny it.

You deadpan. I know you’re lying.

Floyd smiles and crosses his arms. “A talking cat? Now THAT’S something you don’t see every day! Can I squeeze you ‘til you pop?”

“Uh, no?! Stay away from me, weirdo!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about stolen food,” you tell the twins. “But we really must be going. Have a good night!”

“Awww, look at you, scurrying backwards like a shrimp afraid of being someone’s lunch!” Floyd grins at you, giving you a full view of his teeth. He smirks. “And on that note… You’re so teeny, I’ma call you ‘Little Shrimpy’ from now on!”

“...what.”

“I’m afraid your cat stole a freshly caught fish from our kitchens that we had purchased this morning.” Jade interrupts, steering the conversation back onto its original course. He offers a smile that you suppose is meant to be sympathetic, but only feels teasing.

You swallow and ask the pressing question: “How much did it cost?”

“The meat was that of a turbot fish, which is highly sought after in fine dining.” Jade, his smile vanishing. His voice becomes serious. “Wild caught turbot fish can cost up to 70 gold pieces per pound.”

“Oh bother.” You pale, vowing to wring that stupid little furball’s neck for this.

“Luckily, we only paid 52 gold pieces per pound for the fish that was taken.” Jade breaks out into another smile as your stomach drops. You know this tactic- let you know the highest price to make you feel like you’re getting a bargain. Unfortunately, you are still too poor for 52 pieces to feel lucky.

“This fish, however, was slightly larger than average. It was 21 pounds.”

Grim will rue the day he met you.

“Soooo, 21 times 42 is-”

“52!” Floyd jumps in helpfully. You force a smile, wishing he hadn’t noticed your intentional switch.

“Right…”

“The cost adds up to 1,092 gold pieces.” Jade laces his fingers together and smiles at you calmly.

“For a fish?!”

“For a gourmet fish, yes. I trust you have the means to pay for it?” 

“...I have twenty eight silver pieces and three gold ones. I don’t suppose I could give you what I have and we call this an IOU?”

“I’m afraid not.” Jade shakes his head. “Do you truly have nothing else?”

“Yeah, Shrimpy.” Floyd agrees, face dropping as he curls his fist and swings his arm like he is catching invisible prey in the air. “We don’t like deal breakers.”

“Well, I never made a deal with you, and that’s all the money in my pockets. I don’t have any extra money to spend on fish.” You send Grim a withering glare, making him scoot closer to the twins just to get away from you.

“That’s truly unfortunate.” Jade smiles at you, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “But I’m afraid we cannot simply let you go now you have racked up a debt. But we are not monsters.” 

You glance at his teeth, unconvinced. “Uh huh.”

“Aww, look at her.” Floyd coos, making you scrunch your face. “She’s closing up like an oyster.”

“You need not be afraid.” Jade assures you. “We only wish to settle the money taken- if you truly have a good reason you can’t pay it, we can sort out another method of reimbursement. Azul is most benevolent that way.”

“Azul?” You ask. You don’t like how there’s three of them now.

“He’s the owner of the Mostro Lounge, the restaurant we work at.” Jade explains kindly. “I believe you would be well-served discussing the matter with him in person.”

“Yeah! Azul’s a real problem solver.” Floyd grins, moving a hand to his hip.

Jade nods. “Absolutely. Just remember: you can’t get something for nothing.”

The story of my life. You stand up with a sigh. “Fine, let’s go. C’mon, Sparky.”

You grab your backpack and follow the two into the building you saw earlier. The minute you step inside your eyes dart around for an exit. You’re ready to jump out of a window if you have to.

“Have a seat. Azul will arrive in a minute.” Jade gestures to a booth. You nod and take a seat, setting your backpack on the space next to you as you scoot in.

“Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I-”

“I’ll take a big cup of milk!” Grim grins from the other side of the table. You shoot him a look.

“...fine. I’ll take…” you think for a minute. What’s the tea Crowley makes me? “...English Breakfast tea?”

“Milk?”

“Uhhh…” You pause. “Yes please?”

“One lump or two?”

Lump? “...none, thank you.”

“Coming right up.” Jade disappears into the kitchen whilst Floyd slumps his body into one of the stools at the bar as if he is bored. You watch him for a moment before turning your gaze to Grim. The moment the little monster sees your stare, he squeaks.

“Look, I didn’t-”

“Hours, Sparky. You just had to behave yourself for a few hours. Not even a day! Hours.”

“I was hungry!” He pouts. “And besides, you weren’t up for sharin’ that tart! I had a hankerin’ for some fish, and it was just lying out in the open! How was I supposed to know the place was run by debt collecting maniacs?”

You put your head in your arms on the table and let out a long throaty sigh. This heist is cursed. You saved the Princess, but the story is barely on track. It will also be so much harder to steal the necklace if you end up being hunted down by authorities the whole time for something that you (for once) are not responsible for stealing.

“Wha’cha thinking about, Shrimpy?”

You jump when you hear Floyd’s low, teasing voice right next to your ear. He pulls back with a giggle. “Did I scare ya?”

“Yes.” You huff. “Yes, you did.”

“Hey, do something cool. Entertain me.”

“...huh?”

“I’m bored.” He whines. “Hey, Shrimpy. Doodle somethin’ with me.”

You blink, processing his request. “You want me to draw with you!”

“Yep!” He grins, grabbing some wadded up paper from his pocket (are those receipts?) and a fancy pen with a crystal on the end. “Be right back, I’ll grab you something.” He jumps up and grabs another writing utensil from the counter (a pencil that is far less ornate than the pen) and comes skipping back, sliding into the booth beside you. You glance at the kitchen.

Where is his brother?

“Here ya go, Shrimpy.”

“Ooh, ooh!” Grim hops up onto the table. “Draw me!”

“Heh, alright.” Floyd agrees with a smirk. “Just don’t be boring.”

You look down with a sigh and concentrate. You’re not an artist, but you’ve spent so much time with Grim you figure you must have some sort of advantage. You’re careful not to miss any details, and check over every part of him to make sure you’ve included it in your picture.

You’re so invested in your picture you almost don’t notice when the drinks are set on the table in front of you. “I thought it was unusually quiet out here.”

“We’re both drawing Sparky.” You tell him.

“Oh, are you?” Jade asks, amused. “Let me see then.”

You can tell Jade is trying not to laugh.

“Aha ha ha! Looks just like him!” Floyd snickers at the drawing, and you sink into your seat.

Jade snickers. “Floyd, don’t laugh at the poor thing. That’s just mean.”

“He looks like he’s in his forties.” You deadpan.

“Ahahaha!” Floyd doubles over laughing.

“Hey! You didn’t even draw me!” Grim whines at Floyd.

“Sure I did, Sealie!”

Grim goes quiet, staring at him with a baffled expression on his face. You lean over and look at Floyd’s drawing.

“I see it.”

“As do I.” Jade smiles.

“I’m not a seal!”

“Oh great.” You deadpan at the realisation. “Sparky, we’re ocean twins.”

Jade and Floyd exchange a grin. “That you are.”

“What’s that?” You ask Floyd, pointing at the strange shape on the lower part of the seal.

“That’s the fishie he stole in Sealie’s stomach!”

Your mouth forms a straight line. “Oh great.”

“My apologies for the wait.” A smooth, rich voice cuts through the room. You look up and see a handsome man with silvery hair and pale bluish purple eyes. “The VIP room is ready now. Right this way, if you would.”

Nervously, you pick up your drink and follow the man into the back. The room is lined with books and a large safe is embedded in the wall across from you. Just looking at it makes your stomach drop, and you feel queasy. You move your eyes downward and lock them on your cup. You take a sip to try and calm your nerves, hoping that the liquid will warm your insides. It doesn’t work. It’s too bitter- you like it how Crowley does it.

“Have a seat.” The man encourages. “You’re blocking the doorway.”

“Oh, sorry.” You move to sit on one of the couches and set your tea on the table in front of you. Grim hops up beside you, and you both bounce on the cushions a few times to truly appreciate the softess below you. Azul takes the opposite couch, and you don’t miss the way Jade closes the door before the twins go and join him. If you sit at a certain angle, you can’t see the safe past their head.

“My name is Azul Ashengrotto, and I am the owner of this establishment.” He informs you. “And you are?”

“My name is Y/n L/n.” You introduce yourself. “This is Grim.”

Grim, for once, does not correct you; instead he shrinks back, lacking his usual prideful demeanour.

“I see. And he is the thief, I presume?”

“Yep!” You nod, giving Grim the side eye. “This one was all him.”

“I see.” Azul nods. “We need to discuss the subject of payment. At the moment, you owe us 1,092 gold pieces for the fish, and another 18 for the drinks.”

“What?!” You yelp, sitting upright. “I didn’t know those would be charged! You should have told me!”

“But I did tell you.” Jade points out. “When we were outside, I warned you that you can’t get something for nothing. Remember?”

You gape at him furiously, but you’re unable to argue. You hate this tale more and more by the minute.

Azul sighs at you. “I’m afraid I can only help you as much as you are willing to help yourself.”

“Fine.” You bite out. “I’m sorry. I can’t pay you the money as I genuinely don’t have it, but surely we can find another way to settle this.”

“Hmm…” Azul hums, thinking it over. You sit silently in the room for a minute as he seems to go through all his options. Your heart sinks. Is there really no other way? Are you really going to be arrested because of a FISH out of all the crimes you’ve been involved in?

“...alright.” Azul says slowly. “I think I may have an idea.”

“Really?” You sit on the edge of your seat and look at him hopefully. Whatever it is you’ll take it, so long as it keeps your heist going. Maybe Azul was like Jack in his own way- trying to figure out a way to help people in need, even if Azul’s henchmen suck.

“Yes.” Azul smiles, though regretfully. “Though I don’t know if it’s appropriate to suggest.”

“What is it?” 

Azul looks over at Jade, who nods encouragingly. “Well… alright then. My suggestion is that you work here until you can repay us.”

“Is that it?” You ask, eyes widening.

“Well, you would have to stay overnight.” Azul explains. “I need someone here around the clock- you see, the cooler we use to keep our ingredients fresh has been faulty, so if the ice starts to melt I need someone to keep a record of ingredients that are unsalvageable, try and preserve the cold until morning… you get the idea.”

“I’ll do it!” You sit forwards with a smile, your leg starting to bounce up and down. This is perfect! “I haven’t got anywhere else to go anyway.”

“Oh, you poor unfortunate soul.” Azul brow furrows sympathetically. “Had I known that I would have suggested this sooner. It’s much warmer in here than outside.”

“It’s fine, really.” You smile to assure him. “I’m used to it.”

“Poor little Shrimpy, all lost and alone in the world.” Floyd coos. “I just wanna give you a big squeeze.”

“Uhh…” your face flushes as you fumble for a response. Now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had been hugged… you kind of want one, especially right now with that safe on the wall. Plus, Floyd is really pretty…

“Come now Floyd, stop teasing her.” Jade chides him. “We will endeavor to help you however we can.”

“...thank you.” You nod, heart still beating. You hastily have another sip of your drink. You still don’t like it.

“Of course.” Azul smiles. “I’m always willing to discuss any problems you may have. Helping people is what I live for.”

You soften your gaze at him. What a kind man! “Shall we discuss payment?” 

“I’d be happy to. Now, let’s see here… you owe 1,110 gold pieces. We would need you until opening at 11:30, and after closing at 10:00… that’s about thirteen hours, though we want you to of course sleep through most of it.” He smiles at you gracefully. “We would, of course, expect you to assist in the preparation and cleaning before and after opening, which is about two hours each.”

“That makes sense.” You agree.

“There’s two of you, so you each need to cover 555 gold pieces.” Azul continues, doing the math on the paper in front of him. “We normally pay 17 gold pieces an hour to our employees on the clock at this time, so we will pay you the same.”

You watch him as he works through the math, impressed he’s able to do most of it in his head. You doubt most people could. “That sounds fair.”

“We will have to pay you less for your time spent overnight, as we would already be providing accommodation.”

“That’s fine.” You tell him. You realise with amusement that this will technically be your first real job.

“Thirteen gold pieces an hour should make sense.” Azul nods to himself. “Thankfully, we should be getting the cooler fixed in… how long will it be?”

“Three days.” Jade answers helpfully.

“Of course.” Azul nods. “So after that I’m afraid I won’t be requiring your services any longer. Thankfully though… let’s see… 17 times four, add the overnight pay, that’s nine hours… times two, multiply by three… oh, would you look at that!” Azul looks up with a triumphant smile. “That’s the exact amount you need to pay us!”

“Really?” You ask excitedly, eyes shining. You could use a lucky break!

The three chuckle at your enthusiasm, cleary entertained by your enthusiasm. Azul gives you a dazzling smile. “Really.”

“That’s perfect!” You cheer, sighing in relief. You’re so happy you could sing.

“Woo-hoo!” Grim crows.

“Quiet you.” The smile is wiped off your face in an instant as you shoot him an icy glare.

Grim squeaks. “You’re scary when you do that.”

“Anyways,” you turn back to the men in front of you. “This sounds great. Thank you so much!”

“Whadid I say, huh?” Floyd grins. “We just loveeeeee helpin’ people out.”

“One more thing.” Azul says. “Go ahead and sign the scroll, right here on the dotted line.” He holds out a quill with a large plume on the end and rotates a contract in your direction. You take it slowly, and look down at the paper.

“Uh… why?”

“It’s just a worker’s contract.” Jade assures you. “We have all our employees sign them when they first start working.”

“Yeah, just procedure.” Floyd hums. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh.” You look down at the paper, suddenly feeling very small.

“Just put your name.” Azul urges after a moment. You stay still, staring at the paper with a pit in your stomach.

“C’mon, Shrimpy!” Floyd whines. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Are you not satisfied with one of the terms of the contract?” Jade asks worriedly.

“No, it’s not that…” you mutter, finding yourself very interested in fiddling with the pen’s large plume.

Azul frowns. “Then what?”

“...I don’t know how to write my name.”

The room goes quiet as shame fills you, making your face go warm and eating at your insides. You refuse to look at anybody in the eyes- you can’t bear the judgment you feel certain would be in them. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You feel small- so small. It isn’t your fault, but it still stings. It’s embarrassing to struggle with something everybody else can do so easily. You’re so stupid… you should have known things had been going way too well. When things are too perfect, they usually are- there was going to be a catch.

It’s so quiet.

You can’t look up. Tears of shame and humiliation fill your eyes and threaten to fall. You’re sure that they’re judging you- why wouldn’t they? They’re all smart and talented and successful, and you apparently can’t get away with stealing a fish.

Why won’t anybody say something?!

“That’s no problem at all.” Jade breaks the silence, which probably wasn’t as long as it felt. You look up and see him giving you a gentle smile. “Will Grim be able to sign the contract?”

“Yeah.” Grim nods, then shoots you a smirk. “I’ll sign it for the both of us, and then you’ll get a private lesson with the Great Grim teaching you how to spell your name later. Kay?”

You feel a surge of affection for the stupid cat and blink away your tears. “Thank you, Grim.”

Grim takes the plume from your hands and quickly signs the scroll. Azul takes the paper and rolls it back up. “It’s a deal.”

“Thank you again.” You nod, your face still hot.

“Of course.” Azul assures you, and you feel your heart beat faster. “I will do everything I can to make your life more enjoyable.”

***

The next day when the restaurant opens, you and Grim both slip out quietly and head toward the beach.

“Right,” you begin. “We need to track down Prince Tomato Head and Princess Swimderella. However, there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight ever again, so we’re going to have to do this slowly.”

“Aww…” Grim whines. “But this’ll take so long!”

“Oh, well, you’re right.” You laugh dryly. “But unfortunately someone got us over a thousand gold pieces in debt last, so there’s absolutely no way that somebody is being left alone ever again.”

“Myah!” Grim’s ears flatten and he falls into step behind you. “Whoops?”

“Aha.” You say dryly. “Whoops.”

“Where are we going, anyway?” Grim asks. You can tell this is his attempt to change the subject, but you go along with it.

“Ariel- or whatever their name is, should have gone and made a deal with the sea witch by now. Hopefully that means that he will be washing up on the beach soon. Assuming the entire plot isn’t messed up by Princess almost dying, this will probably be the easiest way to catch him.” 

“Yeah.” Grim agrees. “That was real inconvenient. Wonder why the dog never showed.”

“No idea.” You lament, heading onto the beach. The sand makes you run much slower than you would normally, much to your annoyance. “But whatever the case, we’d better hurry. We aren’t out as early as I would have hoped.”

“Woof! Woof!”

“Do you hear that?” You ask Grim, ears straining to catch the sound.

“Woof! Woof!”

“Yippee!” Grim pumps the air with his fist. “That must be that stupid dog, so the princess can’t be far behind!”

“I think it’s getting closer!” You celebrate. “Which means they must not be far!”

“Woof!” You can now see a furry white dog bumbling across the sand in your direction and a pretty girl with jet black hair running after it.

“Max, wait!”

Grim stiffens. “Oh no.”

“Woof!”

“Myah!”

“Huh?’ You watch blankly as the dog tackles Grim and starts to lick him affectionately with his long tongue.

“Bleh!” Grim yells as he tries to wiggle away. “Get offa me!”

“I’m so sorry!” The princess cries and goes to drag the dog off. “Max! Max!”

“Woof.” Max hops off of Grim and taps his front paws against the ground in place as his tail swings from side to side.

“Grim.” You plaster a fake smile on your face, rage simmering inside you. “Have you met this dog before, by any chance?”

“Uhh…”

“You!” The Princess gasps and points right at you. “You’re the girl who saved me!”

“Uh… yeah!” You jump at the chance to make a connection with one of the story’s leads. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thanks to you.” She nods in appreciation. “Last night the ship I was on got caught in a terrible storm- the waves must have washed me ashore. If you hadn’t helped me, I don’t know if I would have survived.”

“Oh, well, you know.” You’re not used to being thanked by people, and fumble for a response. “All in a day’s work?”

She giggles. “Still, thank you. My name is Erica, by the way.” 

“Y/n.” You give a small curtsey. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“The honour is all mine. I’ve been meaning to ask, if I ever found you.” She hesitates. “This may be strange to ask… but I heard a voice before I woke up.”

“Really?” You question, relief washing over you. It’s a good thing that she heard the merman’s singing- otherwise the story would be really messed up. Still, you play dumb. “What did you hear?”

“Were you… barking?”

Grim looks at you for the answer himself.

“...no! Of course not!” You force a laugh. “Is that all you heard?”

“Yes.” She nods. “But that is ridiculous, so it was likely just my head playing tricks on me.”

“Ohhh…” Y̸o̷u̵r̵ ̸v̸o̶i̴c̵e̴ drops as you consider the plot. “That’s not good.”

“Don’t worry, I’m alright now!”

You force out a yay.

“Woof! Woof!”

“Max, wait!” Erica calls as the dog takes off running down the beach. “Slow down! What has gotten into you today?”

You glance down at Grim. “You’re so dead.”

Then you take off running after her. You run down the beach until Max finds a stranger wearing what looks like an old sail, parading on the shore like he’s doing a fashion show. Once he sees the dog charging at him whilst barking he dives behind a rock, even climbing on top of it after Max chases him around it twice.

“Max!” Erica calls, and her and the stranger lock eyes, “Oh. Oh, I see.”

You come to a stop beside where Grim had, and look back and forth between the two leads. You feel a bit like a third wheel whilst harbouring the dread that comes with knowing that something is horribly, horribly wrong. 

Grim can’t take his wide eyes off the scene when he questions you. “Why-”

“I don’t know.” You swallow. Erica wanders toward the handsome stranger, though you feel an instinctual need to pull her back and away from him. Max hops around the man, excited to make a new friend. He doesn’t seem as concerned about the dog as before, and even cautiously pets the dog’s head. Max’s tail whips around excitedly, entire body wiggling from the force.

“Are you okay, sir?” Erica asks, never breaking her stare. She pulls Max into her arms and rubs him on the head. “I’m sorry if this knucklehead scared you. He’s harmless really, uh…”

They lock eyes again, forming a deeper pit in your stomach. You feel nauseous. 

“I thought you said-”

“I did!” You splutter quietly. “It was! I mean, it-”

“What’s your name?” Erica asks.

The man smiles and pushes his blonde hair out of his gray eyes. “Rielle. And you are?”

Chapter Text

You blink twice, but the iconically red haired man you’d been expecting doesn’t magically appear. The handsome blonde that’s ruining everything remains, and the princess looks like she’s already picked out their wedding venue. Disaster. Absolute disaster. 

“I’m Princess Erica.” The princess introduces herself. “This is my friend, Y/n, and her cat Grim.”

You wave at the stranger, not moving from your spot. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He beams, waving back.

“Quick question,” you jump in before Grim can protest being called a cat. “Where have you come from?”

Erica looks back at the man, whose face falls. “I… just washed up on the shore. I don’t have anything now… my home, my family.”

“Oh no.” You frown sympathetically and grab Erica’s hand, beginning to drag her away from the stranger. “That’s terrible. Hope everything works out for you!”

“That’s awful!” Erica gasps. “Y/n, stop. We have to help him!”

“Or he could find a hobby. Knitting’s very healing, I hear.”

“Y/n!” Erica stops and leans back so you can’t pull her. “Let me help him, the same way you helped me!”

You stare at her blankly, and exchange a look with Grim. You’re both starting to wonder if saving her life was the right move.

“He just said he has nowhere else to go-”

You lean closer. “What if he’s lying?”

“He’s drenched and wrapped up in the remains of a sail.”

“Exactly!” Grim jumps in, making her screech. “He could be a total weirdo!”

“It can talk?” 

“He talked earlier.”

“I… didn’t notice.”

“Heck yeah I can talk!” Grim nods. “I’m the Great Grim! That’s why you should listen to me.”

“Yeah, listen to him.” You nod. “Don’t let Mr. Sunshine over there into your home.”

“So you have a talking cat, and he’s the weird one?”

“You’re taking him into your ho-castle.” You point out. “While I got locked out of it. I’m sensing a double standard here.”

“You were locked out?” She gasps, eyes widening. “But you saved me!”

“It was the guards.” You shrug. “It’s fine, I got over it.”

“Then you come with me too!” She proclaims.

“But-”

“You said it yourself, Y/n, I have guards in case anything goes wrong.” Erica points out. “And I’ll have you too.”

“Hasn’t anybody ever taught you stranger danger?”

You’re ignored as Erika skips back to Rielle, who seems happy to be included in the conversation. “Do you have any friends or family I can take you to?”

His shoulders fall as he shakes his head. “No. I have nowhere to go.”

“Great.” You call. “There’s a lovely ditch about two miles west.”

The princess forces a laugh. “She’s joking. You can come with me and stay in the castle.”

The blonde widens his gray eyes. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course!” Erica swoons at his expression, making you scoff. “How could I not?”

“We have plenty of good ditches around here.”

The blonde looks at you, new worry lacing his tone. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Perfect. Don’t.”

“Y/n!” Erica gasps. “Don’t listen to her- she’s very kind, really. She saved my life! She’s just protective.”

The blonde looks back at you, eyebrows raised. “Wow. You should tell me all about it later! I’d love to hear it.”

“Come with me.” Erica encourages, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger. “We have plenty of room. I’ll also have the cook prepare you a feast- you must be hungry after all you’ve been through. Can you stand?”

“Kind of.” The blonde puts his feet on the sand and stands, swaying back and forth uneasily. Erica moves his arm around her shoulders before he can fall, the same way you had done yesterday.

“Oh good.” You mutter to Grim. “Let’s all just roll out the welcome mat for Mr. No-Address while I rethink every decision that lead me to this moment.”

“He’s definitely evil.” Grim whispers, crossing his arms and glaring at the man.

“Oh, for sure!”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Rielle smiles at her, eyes wide and genuine. “I’ll never forget your kindness.”

“It’s not kindness. It’s clearly a case of heat stroke induced delusions.”

“And you’ll be there to save me if something happens, won’t you Y/n?” She teases. You pout and look off to the side. “Come help me get him to the castle.”

“Fine.” You move forward to help. At least she has guards… for once it looks like you and the authorities will be on the same side. “Invite the stray. But when he starts eating the castle walls, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

You change and go to the dining hall for food. waiting in the dining hall for Rielle to appear. You feel strange wearing a dress, but incredibly happy. Erica had given you freedom to explore her wardrobe for lunch, allowing you to try on the elegant dresses you had never even been allowed to touch before. You had always wanted to wear one of these, ever since you were a child. You remember seeing all the noble women walk past in colourful skirts and pretty jewels. If only you had the money…

To your amusement, Grim looks like he’s wasting away beside you as you wait for the food (even though you had eaten at the Mostro Lounge before you went out.) He’s wearing a new light purple ribbon that matches your dress around his neck.

Erica paces as you and the one who quickly becomes your favorite character, Grimsby, question her.

“Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” Erica swoons. “He’s been through so much, and he’s still so polite! The worst things really do happen to the best people.”

“So you just let him in?” Grimsby asks, raising a judgemental eyebrow.

“I’m telling you, Grim. He needed help.”

The furry monster looks up after hearing his name and down again, realizing it was a nickname for the old man in the seat beside him. He lets out a long sigh of hunger.

“You’re in love.” You tell her. She pauses.

“What? No…”

“You are.” Grim agrees, and goes right back to staring in the direction of the kitchen.

“I’m not.” She insists. “I just find him attractive, that’s all. I’m open to anything that comes my way from this.”

“Yep.” You state. “Wide open and letting him in.”

Grimsby chokes on his water.

“He needed a place to stay!”

“Yep, just staying. How very platonic of you. I’m sure he’ll appreciate you being so willing to take care of him.”

“Letting in the man who was half in the nude on the beach.” Grimsby sighs. “Very astute, Princess.”

“You don’t understand.” Erica argues. “I feel as though I’ve met him before…”

“You were supposed to.” Grim mutters under his breath. You scratch him behind his ears. 

A woman’s laugh interrupts the conversation. “Come on, Honey. Don’t be shy.”

The blonde walks in, scanning the room as if trying to imprint every detail into his memory. He wears a pink suit with a high white collar, looking like the suit version of the iconic pink dress worn by a certain red-haired mermaid. The maid follows him in.

You grind your teeth. Who is this guy?

“Ooh, Erica.” You turn around as Grimsby teases her sarcastically. “He has clothes on this time. Isn’t it a vision?”

“Grim!” Erica hisses, face red. She steps toward Rielle, moving your attention to him. To your surprise, his eyes are on you. 

Your eyes narrow. He is SO up to something.

“You look wonderful,” Erica says.

Rielle bows and looks back at her. “Thank you. As do you—and you, Y/n.”

“...thanks.”

“Come, come, come. You must be famished. Let me help you, my dear.” Grimsby walks past the princess and forcefully grabs hold of the blonde, dragging him away. You find his protective but not unfriendly demeanour sweet. Grimsby and Erica are clearly close… could have had something like that?

“There we go.” Grimsby smiles, seating Rielle in a chair between you and Erica. You scoot your chair away from him. 

“It’s not often we have such lovely dinner guests, eh, Erica?” Grimsby asks, walking around the end of the table where she is sitting to get to his own seat. You watch Rielle pick up his fork.

Is he…?

Rielle begins combing his hair with t̸h̴e̵ ̷f̸o̷r̶k̴.̷The whole table stares at him. Noticing the look everyone is giving him, Rielle slams the fork back onto the table and looks at his lap.

Is this fake? He’s acting exactly like Ariel!

Grimsby strikes a match and lights a pipe, attracting Rielle’s attention. Noticing the enthusiastic stare the blonde is sending his way, Grimsby hands it over.

“Do you like it? It is rather a fine one.”

Rielle takes a deep breath and blows into the pipe, sending soot flying across the table. To the horror of you, Grim, and Rielle, most of it lands on Grimsby. However, Erica and the maid both laugh at the old man’s misfortune.

Erica clears her throat, thumping her fist on her chest. “Sorry, Grim.”

“Why Erica, that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in weeks!” The maid exclaims.

“Ah.” Grimsby remarks dryly as he rubs his face with a handkerchief. “Very amusing.”

You’re just happy none of it ended up on your- well, Erica’s dress. 

“Carlotta, my dear, what’s for dinner?” Grimsby asks.

“Oh, you’re gonna love it! Chef’s been fixing his speciality: stuffed crab.” The maid tells him as she leaves to grab the dishes.

You glance at Grim, who’s smacking his lips together and holding his knife and fork at the ready. He’s far too focused on the meal that hasn’t yet arrived to consider the implications of what’s happening.

There is a famous crab in this story called Sebastian. He is incredibly loyal to King Triston and to Ariel, but is almost cooked alive by the chef. There’s no way the crab will be with anyone but the little mermaid- well, merman.

You turn your head to the side to look at the pretty blonde beside you. When he notices, he gives you a friendly wave.

Is it the same merman?

“You know, Erica, perhaps our young guest might enjoy some of the sights of the Kingdom!” Grimsby suggests. “Something in the way of a tour.”

Erica stares at Rielle with a dreamy smile, her head resting in her hand and her entire body angled toward him. When she realizes Grimsby has spoken to her, she laughs awkwardly and turns to her guardian.

“I’m sorry, Grim. What was that?”

“You can’t spend all your time moping about. You need to get out! Do something! Have a life!”

You study Rielle for anything unusual, and the moment arrives when Grimsby lifts the lid off his meal. Rielle leans in for a closer look, and that’s when you spot the petrified, very much alive crab on the retainer’s plate. Hastily, the blonde opens his own lid and gestures for the crab to hurry inside while Grimsby and Princess continue their conversation. The crab scuttles across the table and dives onto Rielle’s plate. The blonde exhales in relief but freezes when he catches your gaze.

You hadn’t realised you’d been watching as intently as you were until Rielle caught you. You put a finger to your lips, and he sags in relief.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Rielle? Y/n?” Erica calls out. You both jump and realise that the other dinner guests are watching you. “Would you both like to join me on a tour of my kingdom tomorrow?”

“Yes!” Rielle nods happily.

“Ohh…” You sink awkwardly. “I actually have to work tomorrow morning…” That stupid deal! Erica and Rielle both look disappointed, making you feel worse. “I could meet you in the town square at noon? At the fountain.”

Erica smiles. “That sounds great!”

Grimsby picks up his fork. “Wonderful! Now, let’s eat before this crab wanders off my plate.”

***

“Heya Shrimpy!” Floyd calls over when you walk into the Mostro Lounge. “Wherevya’ been?”

“Out.” You sigh. “It’s been a long day. Where’s Azul?”

“In the back counting today’s earnings.” Floyd shares, before turning to look at Jade. “I want Shrimpy to help me wipe off tables. Sealie can go do dishes in the back.”

You glance at Grim, whose arms are shorter than a bottle. “He might drown.”

“He can walk it off. Here, Shrimpy!” Floyd tosses you a cloth as Jade drags the tiny monster into the kitchen.

You begin wiping down tables, acutely aware of Floyd’s yellow and olive-brown eye watching you intently. You’re not sure why. You’re cleaning the tables right, aren’t you? Unless you were to stand on top of it and started tap dancing wearing dirty shoes, you are not really sure how you can be doing it wrong. Are you taking too long? Floyd is just sitting around watching you instead of helping, so you aren’t going to be accepting complaints. Would Floyd even care if you are? Hard to say- he is frequently mercurial in his desires. 

You finish wiping down all the tables (with almost no help from Floyd,) and turn around to get your next assignment. He gives you a nod of acknowledgement and yawns.

“What’s my next job?” You ask. “I assume I’m assisting you with one of yours again?”

“Nah, I’m not feeling it. Choose something that’s easy to nap through.”

You’ve got to be kidding.

You leave Floyd and head into the kitchen, finding Jade drying dishes as Grim sobs and washes them.

“Y/n!” Grim begs. “You gotta help me! My fur ain’t for washin’ dishes!”

“...who is this strange, foamy creature?”

Grim lets out a squawk of betrayal, and Jade chuckles

“Jade, what’s my next job?”

“Heyyy! I‘m watching Shrimpy!” Floyd walks in with a pout. “No fair, Jade!”

“You weren’t giving me anything to do and I’m earning my pay.” You retort. “Jade, what’s next?”

“How industrious.” Jade smiles at you. “Grim could take a page from your book.”

“Hey…” Grim whines.

Jade ignores him. “If you wouldn’t mind taking the trash there outside, it would be a great help.”

“On it.” You shrug the bag over your shoulder and step outside. The cool air bites at your skin- nothing like the quiet warmth inside. You dump the bag and go to hurry back in, hoping tomorrow night won’t get this cold. After all, if you recall the story correctly, the Sea Witch is supposed to appear on the beach.

Your stomach drops at a sudden realization: you can’t leave the restaurant. You could sneak out, but you’re not sure that the consequences of being caught are worth only a chance of seeing Ursula’s disguise. But if you don’t go, you won’t know what to look for!

You chew your lip, hand on the doorknob. You’ll have to think about it- you are leaving as soon as the heist is over, so long term debt isn’t a concern. Being hunted down by the authorities while you are here is.

What are you supposed to do?

You step inside to escape the cold and find both twins on either side of Grim, staring at him with wide eyes. Grim stands tall, his chest puffed out with pride.

“So you see? You’d better start showin’ me some respect!”

“What’s going on?” You ask, going to the sink to wash your hands. Both men look up at you, shock written on their faces. You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re friends with the Princess?” Jade asks incredulously.

“You’re friends with the Princess?!” A new voice yelps. You turn to look at Azul, who appears more disheveled than usual, standing in the doorway and staring at you as if you just told him he had twenty four hours left to live.

“...yeah?” You nod. You understand why it’s such a shock- not only were you broke and homeless, and getting to know the Princess was a big deal in itself. You must be misinterpreting their shock as horror. “I saved her life yesterday, and ran into her again at the beach.”

“I see.” Azul pushes his glasses up his nose, studying you intensely. “Was it just the two of you?”

“And me!” Grim interjects.

“Of course. My apologies- three of you?”

“Yeah. And some strange blonde guy named Rielle.” You turn back to washing your hands, missing the horrified expressions on their face. “I think he was in a shipwreck or something.”

“...how unfortunate for him.” Azul says. You dry your hands and turn back around.

“Yeah. Pretty awful thing to go through.” You agree. 

Rielle was, as far as you’re concerned, not in a shipwreck. In fact, the name Rielle is close to Ariel, so you are pretty confident he’s the Little Mermaid. You’re not sure why he’s blonde all of a sudden, but you will fix it. You need to get this story back on track so you can steal the necklace.

Rielle will fall for Erica whether he likes it or not.

“Well, if he ever needs assistance, please send him our way.” Azul encourages you with a smile. “Helping people is what I live for.”

“Will do.” You giggle. “Though to be honest, I think the Princess has got that covered.”

Floyd frowns. “What do you mean?”

You smile mischievously and waggle your eyebrows. “She’s got a little bit of a crush on him.”

All three men suddenly look like you’ve revealed that they won the lottery.

Jade smiles. “You don’t say.”

“Ah, glorious romance.” Azul beams. “A princess and the man she saves.”

“Tale as old as time, huh?” You giggle.

“Erica is realllllyyy into him.” Grim agrees with a grin.

Floyd stands up, places his hand on his hip, and gives you a lazy smirk. “So Shrimpy’s playing royal matchmaker.”

“I’m gonna try.” You nod. “Not sure how good I’ll be, but I have the feeling that they’re perfect for each other.”

“We’re gonna get them to share a true love’s kiss and all that stuff!” Grim announces as he punches the air, making soap suds fly everywhere. 

“Floyd, break open the champagne.” Azul instructs, walking over and retrieving four flute glasses. “This is a time for celebration! To young love!”

You toast your glass, enjoying the happy energy. It feels nice to have this feeling of camaraderie- like you are with a normal group of friends celebrating the touchstones of life. You go to sip the champagne (which will likely be the most expensive thing to ever touch your tastebuds) before hesitating.

“Uhh… this isn’t going to be charged, right?”

Azul smiles and wraps an arm around you, bringing you closer to him. “It’s on the house.”

You blush, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

***

“Like that? See?” Grim smiles, before looking at his writing with a frown. “Or at least… I think it’s spelled like that.”

It quickly became clear that while Grim is definitely better than you, he’s far from literate himself. You yawn. “Let’s have another go in the morning, shall we?” 

Grim nods. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am.” You nod. “I definitely want to learn, though.”

You lie down and close your eyes, pulling the blanket Azul brought over yourself. It’s warm and fluffy, and you find it comforting. You cocoon yourself inside it.

“Hey, Henchman?”

“Yeah?”

“Even if you can’t read, you’re still the smartest person I know.”

You open your eyes and look at Grim, who’s curled up a few feet away. Slowly, you undo your wrap and hold up one side.

“Come here.”

Grim looks up, and upon seeing your open arms, dashes into them. You wrap the blanket around both of you as he snuggles close, and the two of you drift off to sleep.

***

The next day is long but fun. It’s spent pushing Rielle and Erica to dance together in the town square, eating, chatting, getting Rielle and Erica to sit together in the carriage, laughing, watching Grim, encouraging Rielle and Erica to share the last piece of fruit, and almost dying when Rielle starts to drive the carriage.

Soon enough night falls, and you’re standing at the edge of a lagoon. Erica climbs into a rowboat and urges you all in. “C’mon!”

You shake your head and fake a yawn. “Actually, I’m feeling tired… and I gotta head back. It’s almost my shift, you know?”

Hopefully these two will kiss, though you doubt it. Though, you suppose, if the story is as screwed up as it seems then maybe you inadvertently managed to keep the eels away from the boat.

Probably not, but you can hope.

Erica catches on and gives you a smile of appreciation. “Okay then. Climb in, Rielle.”

Rielle gives you a sad look and pouts. “Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so.” You nod. “Sparky has dishes to wash.”

Rielle sighs. “If you really must… good night!”

Much to your surprise, Rielle wraps his arms around you in a hug. You embrace him back as you lock eyes with Erica, who seems as bewildered as you. The blonde had been friendly, but not touchy. Still, it’s nice to be hugged. The moment reminds you of Floyd.

“See you later.” You smile at him as you pull away. 

He pushes his blonde hair out of his gray eyes and gives you a goofy smile. “See you.”

“Oh yeah, Y/n!” Erica mentions. “There’s going to be a party tomorrow night. If you want to come, meet us on the docks at six!”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Come raid my closet again!” Erica exclaims. “I’m sure we’ll find you something.”

“You looked very pretty in that dress from yesterday.” Rielle says, smiling at you. 

He is acting really weird.

Don’t tell me I screwed up so bad he got sick or something.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You tell him.

The dress was very pretty. You felt pretty in it. You’d happily wear clothes like that every day if you could…

But alas, that was not the card in life you had been given.

“I’d love to come.” You accept, and they both react with wide smiles. You can’t help but feel happy. You feel wanted- and that’s not a feeling you’re used to.

You’ve never been more stressed in your life than you have in this story, but…

…you kind of wish you could stay a part of this world.

“I have to go.” You wave them off. “C’mon, Sparky.”

“See ya!” He calls, and runs over. You both start your trek back as Rielle climbs into the boat, and the two row off. You reach the top of the hill and look back. They’re away from the dock, the sunset illuminating their figures.

It’s peaceful.

Your mind isn’t.

You need to figure out if you’re going to try and catch the Sea Witch at the beach or not, and you need to make your decision now.

If you go, you might be able to identify who has the shell, and maybe even have an opportunity to steal it. Maybe you could even reduce some of the damage done to the story by giving Erica and Rielle a free ticket to Romance City.

On the other hand, what if you miss the witch completely? Then you’ll just be out in the cold all night. And what if Jade, Floyd, or Azul notice that you’re gone? What if tonight happens to be the night the cooler breaks? Knowing your luck it will be, and you’re sure it would result in you having to find a way to pay for all of the spoiled ingredients.

Plus, you are on good terms with your employers. You like all three of them a lot, and you definitely don’t want to disappoint them.

With your mind made up, you head back to the Mostro Lounge.

***

Yensid’s guard walks outside. It just doesn’t sit right with him. The Prince went missing right after a guard at the castle died. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but the guard is almost certain the death wasn’t an accident.

He finds the spot on the grass where the guard had landed. It isn’t hard—there’s still blood on the grass here. He swallows hard, a sudden wave of paranoia overtaking him. What if the person who did this hasn’t left? What if, by investigating, he is about to become the next target?

He shakes his head, putting one hand on his sword hilt and outstretching the other to defend himself with magic if necessary. He looks around to make sure he is really alone before bending down.

No clear clues. Maybe he’s just being paranoid?

The death had already been deemed an accident. He is probably just p̵a̷r̶a̷n̷o̴i̶d̵.

He looks around again. No one. He is definitely just being paranoid.

Still, he’s glad he looked for his own piece of mind. He doesn’t want to go home and then find out some manic killer had followed him. His anxiety really needs to calm down.

Though in his defense, what a day to be a guard at the palace! First, he had discovered a thief dancing under the castle during the heist of the century, then witnessed her trial, followed by a murder, and now the Prince had gone missing. And to top it off, a war might be on the horizon!

He needs to go home and enjoy the peace while it lasts. Find a way to get the girl, the murder, the Prince, Crowley, and that stupid necklace off his mind.

Seriously, what is it about that necklace?

Chapter Text

In the past twenty four hours, Elson’s life has taken a sharp turn for the worst. 

“Don’t struggle.” The beastman who’s carrying Elson over his shoulder warns.

“Get your hands off me you ugly creeps!” The stranger writhes in another beastman’s hold. “I’ll kill you all!”

…there goes a diplomatic approach.

The stranger had been like this ever since they had arrived in this strange land where people had shared physical characteristics with animals. Elson had created the illusion of ears and tails to help them blend in, but it was useless when with a man who thinks social graces are optional add-ons. When the stranger had overheard a group of beastmen whispering about a witch who had reportedly vanished right before the kingdom’s Prince, he had marched over, sword drawn, and threatened to kill them all unless they revealed everything they knew.

It didn't end well.

“Silence!” A very pissed off man with horns threatens, a fresh sword wound across the side of his face. “Leona will decide your fate.”

The stranger scrunches up his face. “Who?”

Great question. This whole thing is confusing- why are you in some strange place with animal people? Where are you? How had you gotten here? Where is here?

Elson is unceremoniously dumped on the ground in the middle of a crowd, breaking him out of his thoughts. He manages to sit up, though his hands are tied together. The stranger quite literally falls next to him, swearing.

“It is not nice to drop people!” He seethes. “Let go of me!”

“Don’t you mean ‘us?’.”

“Huh? Yeah, sure.”

Elson bites his tongue and rolls his eyes. He scans the room, searching for his staff. Both the magical artifact and the stranger’s sword had been confiscated after their capture. He spots two guards, each holding one, carrying them to the front. They kneel as the crowd parts, allowing someone to walk through.

A handsome, dark haired man with a scar over one of his venom green eyes walks forward. Behind him, on one side, stood a muscular man with striking white hair and large, pointed ears that twitched faintly with every sound. On his other side was a much shorter man, his scruffy blonde hair framing a lazy smile that seemed permanently etched on his face.

“Prince Leona!” The beastmen bow, and present the sword and staff to him like an offering to a god. “We found these men in the village asking about the witch!”

The dark haired man looks at the items with far more indifference than Elson would have expected. After a moment he walks forward, silently leaning closer. He steps uncomfortably close to the two prisoners- even the stranger falls silent, which Elson finds remarkable, considering the man usually has the personality of a foghorn. Leona seems to choose Elson as his victim, bringing his head over the blonde’s shoulder. He can feel the dark haired man’s nose brushing against his neck.

Am I seriously being sniffed?!

Leona finally pulls away, a smirk on his lips. Elson looks up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not really my type.”

“You smell like her.”

“Like who?”

“Y/n L/n ring a bell?”

Both prisoner’s eyes snap up to look at the beastman. Leona’s grin widens.

“So that’s your type.”

“I knew it.” The stranger spits, glaring at Elson with pure hatred.

Wait, is that why this lunatic is after you?

You had to be kidding. First of all, there’s no way any woman- let alone someone as intelligent as you, would ever fall for this abhorred cretin. He’s a moron. That would be like a flower falling in love with a weed. Second of all, is he even aware of the danger you are in? Is he after you for nefarious reasons like Crowley?

“You approached my men, demanding they give you information or their lives.” Leona puts all his weight on one hip. “I’ll make you the same offer. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

The next thing either of the prisoners know, their own sword is being pointed at their throats.

***

“We’re back!” You announce, opening the door to the Mostro. It’s unusually quiet. You walk in, listening for any signs that someone else might be inside. Softly, you can hear water running in the kitchen.

“Hey!” You greet, popping your head in. Jade looks up from the dish he’s washing. He’s not wearing his jacket, scarf, or fedora right now- just the company’s signature purple button up shirt and dress pants. His sleeves are rolled up just above his forearms. He looks more… relaxed than usual.

He shuts off the tap. “Hello, Y/n, Grim. Welcome back.”

“Where’s Azul and Floyd?” Normally, the other twin would have draped himself over you like a cloak by now, grinning eerily at Grim whilst ordering you both around. Azul could be in the back room, but you aren’t sure. 

You don’t miss the annoyed look in Jade’s eyes with the question either, though it vanishes as quickly as it came. He must be upset that the other two aren’t here.

“Azul is out on business tonight.” Jade explains. “And I don’t know where Floyd is. Why are you interested?”

You blink, finding the question odd. “Because they’re usually around?”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” Grim tells you. “Azul’s shifty, and Floyd gives me the creeps!”

You gasp, glancing at the teal haired man in front of you. “Sparky!”

Jade chuckles. “What about me, Grim? I feel left out.” His grin widens, revealing his sharp teeth as he moves closer. He leers over Grim, who backs into the dining area.

“I think I’ll do the tables today, you two handle the dishes.” Grim runs out before you can say anything. You release an exasperated sigh. 

“Sorry about him. Where’s a towel?”

“Right there.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s your matchmaking progressing?” Jade asks, passing you a fork. The scene is strangely domestic.

“I think it’s going okay, actually. They danced in town together, and I managed to get them to sit next to each other in the carriage. Erica even invited me to a party with them tomorrow, so hopefully I can set them up then.”

You have to set them up. There is no other option.

“I’d say it’s going quite well then.” Jade smiles, handing you a plate. Your hands touch when you take it.

“And Grim?”

“He didn’t get us arrested?”

Jade’s eyes crinkle, showing a hint of mirth. “You must have developed quite a knack for managing chaos.”

“I had to,” you smile. “It’s a necessity when you’ve hung around Sparky long enough. Besides, someone has to manage this place at night when you all leave.”

“I can leave because I know it’s in good hands.”

You glance over at him and find him already looking at you. You can’t help but stare at him, unable to break his gaze. You like his eyes a lot- one muted green and one yellow. You could lose yourself in his gaze forever, and he shows no sign of wanting to pull you back. Neither of you move.

You eventually force yourself to look away, hoping he didn’t notice the heat rising in your cheeks. Pull yourself together!

“Only one more night.” You try to restart the conversation. He’s silent for a moment as he scrubs a plate.

“It doesn’t have to be.” 

You look at him, eyebrows raising and mouth agape. “What?”

“You’ve proven yourself to be a useful asset for our team over these past few days.” Jade explains. “And I know Floyd and Azul don’t want you to leave either. We could update and extend your contract to make it long-term.”

You can’t help but imagine it. You could get a job at the Mostro, going into work each day in their uniform: a black, double breasted coat and matching dress pants, gray scarf, light purple shirt, white gloves, and the iconic fedora with a ribbon and shell folded together to make a bow. It was the kind of outfit you’ve seen rich business men wear on the street. You could actually earn your money, and one day you wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck- or in your case, pocket to pocket. You and Grim could take walks on the beach, and he could eat all the fish he could ever want. You could hang out with Erica, though her naivety drives you mad at times, and Rielle. You could watch their romance bloom, and even be the maid of honor at her wedding (you did save her life, after all.) You could spend your evenings with Jade, Floyd, and Azul, drinking overpriced beverages at the bar. 

Maybe you could even explore the reason why your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest whenever they get too close.

Do you have a reason to go back, really? You have nothing. Your one friend has betrayed you. Your own family abandoned you. You don’t even have a proper house. At best, there’s a mildly intrigued Prince who’s likely already forgotten your name.

I mean sure, you had Crowley…

You shake your head. He needs you, but if you believe he cares about you, then you’re fooling yourself. You can’t let yourself believe that. That kind of thinking is self-destructive- if this is all a scam, your own hope will be the thing that hurts the most of all.

Here, you have a clean slate. You can start off fresh, with a steady job and actual friends. It wouldn’t be glamorous, sure, but there’s hardly any glamour on the streets as a thief. Besides, you have a literal Princess in your pocket in case times get rough.

“Just five more times, and then you’ve gotta teach me how to be a great mage!” Grim hoots. “Just you wait Crowley, I’m gonna be a better mage than you ever were!”

“Would you like that?” Jade asks, bringing you back to the present. “We could give you normal hours, too.”

“...I’ll think about it.”

Jade looks at you softly, and places a hand on your shoulder. “Let us know by sundown tomorrow.”

You nod. 

You definitely won’t be sleeping tonight.

***

Your mind is racing. Really, the answer should be a no brainer. There is nothing for you if you go back.

But if you never return, Grim will never become a great sorcerer. Is it really okay to sacrifice his dream for yours?

Well, magic sucks anyway, so maybe you’re doing him a favour.

You look at your necklace, twirling the crystal between your fingers.

“I wouldn't entrust such a precious item to you if I didn't believe in your capability.”

Crowley is trusting you…

…but do you trust him?

You sigh and look over at the little monster, snoozing away beside you in the morning light. 

Would Grim hate you if he knew what is going on in your head?

“...Snrk!”

You can’t help but smile, moving to gently rub behind his ears. He really is like a cat, whether he wants to admit it or not. Unfortunately, you’re not searching for reasons to leave your world, but reasons to stay. Surely, that alone is a sign. You sigh, moving your arm to pet his entire body. 

Speaking of cats, this moment reminds you of when you woke up after your breakdown, right after coming back from The Lion King. Grim and Crowley had taken care of you, without making you feel judged.

Your eyes go wide as you realise something you hadn’t before, remembering that day’s events.

Dang it.

***

Bang!

Azul shrieks. “Disaster!” 

You sprint towards the kitchen. “What is it?”

Azul is standing in front of the cooler with the twins, a hand over his forehead. “The cooler’s broken, and we have to leave!”

“Where ya going?” Grim inquires.

“We have a party to get to.” Jade frowns. “A very important one- the royal family invited us themselves.”

“Oh no!” Your eyes widen. You walk closer and take a look at the cooler. It’s been split, the cool air and ice leaking through the crack. “What now?”

Azul looks back and forth between the cooler and the rest of the kitchen like the solution may be written somewhere on the walls. “I don’t know.”

“Azul,” Jade says seriously, pointing to his watch. “We have to go if we don’t want to be late.”

You bite your lip. Your job is to take care of these ingredients. Though you’re technically off the clock, you had stayed behind until it was time to leave, and now they need your help. You really should go. But what if they’re expecting you to do it? Sure, they haven’t looked at you for help once, but what if they hate you if you don’t? For some reason, you want them to like you. Is your help implied because this has been your job? Besides, this is their business at stake! They were so kind to you…

Like how Jack was.

Jack didn’t have anything but a desire to help. He was better than you in that way- You have nothing, so you convince yourself you can’t do anything, while he has nothing and still decides he must do something.

You want to be more like Jack.

And Jack was very handsome just like these men are very handsome.

Besides, you can catch up to the party later. You may not have any fancy attire, but when have you ever?

For once in your life, you are going to be a good person. This is the moment, you’re sure of it.

“We’ll do it.”

All three sets of eyes turn to you, wide and disbelieving.

“You will?” Azul asks.

“We will?” Grim blinks.

“But Y/n,” Jade frowns. “You have to get to the party too. You can’t be late on our account.”

“Please let Erica know that I’m very sorry, but will meet up with her later.” You tell them. “She will understand- and my invitation is far more informal than yours. Grim and I will take a record of all the ingredients and then come down there.”

“Hey, thanks Shrimpy!” Floyd gives you a big hug. You welcome it, finding the embrace comforting. Their appreciation assures you that you’ve made the right decision.

“If you’re certain, then I can only hope I can express even a sliver of my gratitude to you.” Jade bows with a smile.

“Why, Y/n!” Azul gasps, a smile breaking out on his face. “You really are a miracle. I assure you I will pay double for this.”

You giggle. “You’d better. Just do me a favor, will you?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Keep a lookout for anybody wearing a necklace.” You tell him. “Chokers don’t count.”

They all exchange confused looks at your strange request, but nod anyway.

“I shall compile a list.” Jade promises.

“Thank you!” You smile. Once you get to the party finding the necklace should be easy! You feel so thankful for their help.

“We’ll see you there?” Floyd asks.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, my angel.” Azul smiles, eyes full of gratitude. Your heart flutters, which is about to make all this so much harder.

“You must hurry.” Jade warns you, opening the door.

“Thank you.”

“Bye Shrimpy! Sealie.”

“Not a seal!”

“Wait!”

They freeze in the doorway and look at you. You take a deep breath, heart pounding.

“About your offer to extend my contract…”

The hopeful faces they all give you are only making you feel worse.

“I’m afraid I can’t accept it.”

The room goes silent, the three men’s faces melting into shock.

“Why not?” Floyd pouts, crossing his arms. “I don’t want you to go, Shrimpy. That’s not fair. Don’t you like us?”

You feel awful. Floyd makes you one of the saddest expressions you’ve ever seen. Is this the price of friendship? Do all relationships end like this? With someone walking away? Or is it just because it involves you?

“What offer?” Grim looks at everyone for an explanation.

“They said they would renew our contracts.” 

Grim’s eyes widen. “Wha-”

“And I do like you all, Floyd. A lot.” You practically beg them to believe you. “But we have someone waiting for us at home- someone Sparky needs in order to pursue a different kind of career.”

Floyd raises his eyebrow. “I thought you don’t have a home.” 

“I don’t.” You give him a wry smile as silence once again fills the room. “I’ll see you at the party.”

They all exchange a look, one that seems lost and mournful.

“If you’re sure.” Azul steps out the door as he puts his hat on. “See you.”

“We’re ju-?!”

“Floyd.” Jade stares at him from the doorway. Floyd looks back at you and then at his brother again before slumping.

“See ya ‘round, Shrimpy and Sealie.”

“We will see you soon.” Jade tells you. “And there is always a position available for you if you want it.”

You might cry. “Thank you.”

They shut the door.

Grim looks up at you, eyes large and round. “Why did you-”

“We have inventory, Sparky.” You blink back tears. “Let’s do this quickly. We have a party to get to.”

***

You know something’s wrong when you step away from the cooler. It occurs to you: surely, if the cooler broke, the ice would have burst outwards across the room. Yet, as you look around, the entire floor is dry.

Your stomach drops. Had the cooler been broken inwards?

No.

There’s no way.

Unless…

Your eyes widen with dread. Twins with sharp teeth and two different coloured eyes. A silver haired boss.

“Helping people is what I live for.”

“Go ahead and sign the scroll.”

“Oh, you poor unfortunate soul.” 

“Sparky!”

“What?” Grim moves to look around the large turkey on the table at you. You’re both currently surrounded by the entire cooler’s inventory which you laid out on the floor, which you’re now realising is probably far too full for the evening after the restaurant has closed.

You stand up, brush yourself off, and race over to the door. “We need to get to that party now.” 

You try the handle and curse. Jammed.

“What’s going on?” 

“Azul is the Sea Witch.”

“Myah?!” Grim’s eyes widen in horror. “Wait, so you’re sayin’-”

“That we’ve been talking all about our plans to the very villains actively working against us, yes.” You nod and peer into the door crack. Something’s stuck in it, but you can’t tell what. “God, I’m so stupid!”

“You’re not, you just made a mistake!” He looks up at you with confidence. “You just need to think of a way out of it!”

You rush over to the main entrance and try that too. Locked.

“Ugh!” You groan. “Their teeth should’ve been a total tip off! I hate these stupid stories!”

“Why didn’t you figure it out then?” Grim asks, ears flattening against his head.

“Because we just came out of a world where everyone had animal ears and tails, Grim. And before that we were in Wonderland. In a world with literal mermaids, why should pointy teeth be strange?” You rant. “If anything, it’s the most normal thing that’s been in my life recently!”

“So how are we gonna get out?”

You look around helplessly. You can try and find a spare key, but that’s time consuming (assuming there even is one.) You could try screaming and hope someone outside hears you, but it’s unlikely someone will hear you. You could break a window…

You pick up a candlestick and chuck it, but it bounces right off the glass. You scowl. 

“Wait!” You spin around. “Grim, you want to be a sorcerer, right? Just magic the door open!”

“I thought you hate magic?”

“I do! But maybe this time I’ll like it!”

“But I haven’t learnt that spell!” Grim explains. “Crowley keeps refusin’ to teach me!”

“Just try!” You plead. “Please Sparky! You’re our only hope!”

Grim looks at the door and steps forward. He needs to do this- for him and for you. If not, the story might be doomed. Your world could be doomed. The necklace could be doomed. He would never become a great mage!

Still, if this goes wrong, who knows what will happen. Grim looks up nervously and is met with your encouraging smile.

He knows you wanted to stay, but you chose not to so he could become a great sorcerer. You sacrificed your happiness- all because you believe in him.

He’s not about to let you down.

He takes a deep breath and outstretches his arms. He is going to be a great mage one day. After all, they don’t call him the Great Grim for nothing!

He closes his eyes to concentrate on feeling the magic run through him. He’s only ever casted fire magic before, but he can do this. He can feel it in his entire being, from his ears to his toes. It’s warm, like molten gold, but welcoming, like freshly brewed tea.

He channels the energy into his paws, feeling the pressure tighten. He takes a deep breath.

He opens his eyes, aims the magic at the door, and releases it.

***

You move the cooler against the door to keep the inferno from entering the kitchen- at least for a while. You whirl around to Grim. “What was THAT?!”

“I’m sorry!” He wheezes. “I told you I hadn’t ever done this spell before! I’ve only ever used fire!”

“God I hate magic.”

Things are fine! Just because you are inside a burning building with no way out doesn’t mean you’ll die! Azul might be canoodling with Erika right now and Rielle might not even be at the party with her, but that doesn’t mean that the story’s doomed! The necklace is also at this party, which you have no way of getting to. But that doesn’t mean anything!

You desperately try your crystal, but it doesn’t work.

“When departing, ensure the refraction is in sunlight; otherwise, it won't be effective.”

Of course this would be the one time Crowley’s instructions are exactly what he said they are!

“HELLLLLLLLLP!” Grim wails, scratching at the door. “HEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!”

You don’t blame him for trying, but there’s no way anyone will hear him over the fire. If anything, anyone nearby has probably moved further away from it.

You try the door again helplessly, but you can’t pull it open.

“HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!”

“SHUT UP!” You yell. “I’m trying to think!”

“Sorry.”

You rack your brain as hard as you can. 

At least you’re going to die with the knowledge that Azul’s perfect little business will be reduced to ashes with you.

Chapter Text

Smoke curls under the door like a subtle, suffocating threat.

"What are we gonna do?" Grim asks, scurrying over.

"I don't know!" You yell, then take a deep breath of the rapidly warming air. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Grim dives into the cooler. "Maybe if we get in here and close the lid we can survive until someone finds us!"

You deadpan. "We'd still suffocate, Grim."

"Oh."

You look back at the door and peer at whatever's jammed into it, jiggling the door again. It still refuses to budge, but it has to. You push the door with all your might, leaning against it so you can utilise your weight. When that doesn't work you forcefully yank the handle.

Snap!

"Oh no."

"Myah! Now what are we gonna do?!"

You look at the broken door handle in your hand, which glints at you mockingly.

Today is not your day.

"Is there any way out of this?" Grim paws at your leg.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

The fire hungrily claws at the edges of the door, its heat pressing through the cracks like a warning. Smoke seeps in first, curling along the ceiling in thin, menacing tendrils, followed by the occasional spark sputtering through the gaps. The air thickens, heavy with the scent of burning wood and ash, as if the fire itself is breathing in tandem with you. You try to steady yourself, but every breath feels like dragging in smoke, shallow and panicked. The door groans, the sound sharp and unnatural, and you swear the flames are testing it, daring it to give way. Your heart pounds louder than the crackling outside, and your eyes dart around the room, searching for anything—any way out—before the fire forces its way in.

When you have nothing to use, use something you're not supposed to.

There has to be something in here you can use. You bend down to inspect where the handle broke off. To your relief, there is an annoying but simple solution. All you have to do is stick something in the hole to trigger the lock. The problem is whatever's jammed in the door—you can see it clearly. If you can find something sturdy but flat, you might be able to wedge it in and poke the obstruction out.

You look around for something to use, eyes landing on a butterknife. Perfect!

You rush over and grab it, wrapping your fingers around the utensil like a warrior gripping their sword. You bend down to poke it into the crack, trying to push whatever is jamming the door out.               

You're pretty sure it's a flat rock, judging by the sound the metal knife makes when it scrapes against it. However, no matter what you do it doesn't seem to want to budge, stubbornly refusing to move from the spot it's comfortably resting in.

"Henchhuman!" Grim yells, pointing to the door as smoke curls in through the edges. Flames flicker hungrily at the bottom, testing the barrier, eager to breach. The air grows hotter with every second, oppressive and suffocating. Your eyes sting, forcing you to blink rapidly as the heat presses against your face. When you straighten up, a lungful of smoke hits you, sharp and bitter, tearing a violent cough from your throat. Gasping, you drop closer to the floor, where the air is marginally cooler, and your gaze locks onto the cooler. Desperation swells as the heat closes in.

If you flip it over, you might be able to hide under it. If the fire doesn't stop, however, you could still asphyxiate. But maybe, just maybe, it might keep Grim safe just long enough for someone to find him?

Either way, it would give him a better chance than standing by and watching the world crumble into flames around him.

"Follow me!" You call, grabbing your backpack and scooting forward. When you reach the cooler you grab a hold of the sides to flip it and immediately cry out in agony.

"Henchhuman!" Grim dives for the backpack to find an ointment as you stare at your hands in horror. You hadn't even thought about how hot the sides of an insulated, metal cooler put by the door would be. You can't even feel your hands now after beyond the scorching pain you felt seconds ago, but you can see the damage. The skin is scaly and white, and raised above the skin like it's flaking off. You sit there, stunned. How are you meant to flip it over now?!

"Here!" Grim pops the cork off of a vial and holds it up for you. "Crowley made it while you were out just in case something like this happened again."

He pours the elixir into your hands. It glows a bright blue upon contact, and a second later the liquid and burns have disappeared. Cautiously, you touch your hands to test the pain. Finding none, you leap up and grab your shawl to use as a cover. Carefully but quickly you flip the cooler and hold up the side.

"Get under." You order.

"But you said we'll suffocate!"

"You might." You nod. "But if you stay out here, you will suffocate."

"What about you?"

"I-" You're cut off by a large cough. You double over, hacking violently as the force tears through your chest. Grim rushes over, eyes wide and filled with terror.

"Y/n! Are you-"

"I'm fine." You cut him off weakly. "Get inside."

"I'll join you in a seco-" you trail off, your eyes spotting your salvation on the floor from where you had just dumped it out of the cooler.

Butter.

"Henchhuman!"

You sprint back over to the door and grab the knife as fast as you can, coughing the whole way. You slather the knife in butter and shovel more of it between the door. It's semi soft from the heat, but frozen just enough to be solid. Knowing that it's going to lose its firmness quickly, you frantically shove it against the rock. Your eyes start to water, stinging from the heat. You're starting to sweat. You hold your breath to stop the smoke.

Stab! Stab! Stab!

You accidentally exhale, having held your breath for far too long. You start to cough as a result, body convulsing from the force. You feel your energy depleting.

"Henchhuman!" Grim runs away from the cooler and jumps against your leg, frantically trying to pull you away from the door. "Come back! Get in the cooler!"

"The... door..." You force out, stabbing the knife against the stone desperately. Grim watches your mechanical movement in horror. It's like you can't can't tear your eyes away, even as you're slumping against the door.

"There's no time!" Grim begs, eyes watering. Whether it's from the heat or fear he's unsure. "Please Y/n!"

You stab the butterknife against the stone, pushing at it against its sides. The air is burning your skin, and it's getting harder and harder to keep going.

The fire enters the kitchen.

"Y/N!" Grim claws at your leg desperately. "We have to go!"

"Almost... got it..."

You cough, your lungs burning. The smoke is filling the room, coming closer to the cooler. If you don't go now then it won't be cold enough to help you.

The rock budges.

"I've got it..."

"Y/n, please!" Grim sobs. "Leave it!"

You mutter something, but the sound barely comes out. Carefully, you fiddle with the rock as strategically as possible, pushing the butter against it and stab the stone.

You have to get it out.

There's a woosh of fire behind you as the room is set ablaze. It roars like a dragon, scorching everything in its path.

You can't breathe.

"Hench...human..." Grim hacks, weakly tugging at your leg. "Cooler..."

The flames climb higher, reaching greedily as if they want to drag heaven down with them. They leap and twist, alive with fury, like demons dancing in triumph. The air itself shifts and swirls in time with the fire, heavy and suffocating. Sharp pops and crackles shatter the silence, each sound like a warning shot, as the inferno tightens its grip around you. This isn't just fire—it's the hellfire sung about in old songs, clawing its way back to earth, feeding on the deafening roar and chaos around you.

Weakly, you stab the rock again, tears streaming down your face.

You're going to die, and it's not just in your head this time. This building is going to burn down around you.

You push the blade against the stone.

It moves, shooting out to the other side.

Only half awake, you hastily shove the knife into the lock and fiddle around. You're running on sheer adrenaline and willpower.

Click.

The door swings open, and you run out of the restaurant.

Then the world goes dark.

***

From the moment Leona was born, it was as if a massive boulder had been placed on top of him—too heavy to lift, too crushing to ignore.

His older brother, Falena, shines like the sun, radiating warmth and drawing everyone to him. Leona has known this since he was a child—everyone adores his brother. The palace attainers would flock to the crown prince, praising his bright and cheery personality. Leona's calculating, more reserved demeanour received as much attention- just not the same kind.

Moody. Terrifying. Why can't he be more like his brother?

Leona was never fooled. If he was the crown prince, everything would have been different.

Judicious. Intelligent. How can his brother, Falena, be so carefree?

All because he was born second. Every trait he has is only ever used as a pretext to praise his brother.

And yet Falena, along with everyone else Leona is surrounded with, is an idiot. He parades around the castle without a care in the world, shaming him when he refuses to assist with whatever meaningless task he has in mind.

If the King was chosen based on intelligence and not bloodline, maybe he could be bothered. Leona wouldn't even mind if he never had the throne.

He despises it only because the reason he would never have it is because he was born a few years too late.

And somehow, you are the other side of his coin.

You are not better than him at a lot of things. You had no social awareness whatsoever- clearly you'd never had many friends. You have the physical prowess of a toddler. Tactical control? Forget it. You're hopelessly naive.

And yet you're the cleverest person he's ever met.

When you first came into his room, he knew something was off. Your clothes, your ears, your scent, the oversized rat you brought with you... all of it was strange.

When you told him what you were truly after, he wanted to laugh in your face. You thought yourself worthy of his jewels? How audacious.

So, he challenged you. If you won, he didn't care about the beads. If you lost, which was likely, you could hopefully provide him with some entertainment before you died.

But you beat him, fair and square. You weren't handed the royal jewels. You earned them. He may have lost, but he has never felt so thrilled.

You could think! You had a mind of your own! For once in his miserable life, Leona was exhilarated. It was an intoxicating feeling- one he didn't want to let go of.

But you disappeared before his eyes.

Falena had interrogated him afterwards, trying to gain as much information about the trespassers as he could.

Maniacs, he had called you and your pet. Thieves.

Of course, they'd call her a maniac—anyone worshiping the light would see you turning your back on the sun as madness. Yet, you are the only one who didn't seem blinded by its light.

You shine brighter.

Like a star.

As a child, the princes were told that stars were supposed to be the great kings of the past. But what made them great? When Leona asked, the question had been brushed off.

"They were born great. Like Falena!"

Leona scoffed. No one is born great. Even as a child, that made no sense. A child could be born from great parents and be the most pathetic sod to ever walk the earth. Falena was proof of that.

Are kings the only ones who can be great?

No. You didn't need a title to be great- you already are. You shine brighter than anybody else in the room.

You are clever. Patient. Resilient. Ruthless when you need to be. Perfect qualities for a ruler.

And after all, shouldn't every Great King have a Great Queen?

***

You're stirred back into consciousness by a high pitched voice and something nudging you.

It's getting annoying.

Your mind focuses on it as you will the person to stop. Then you notice someone crying.

"Y/n..."

Who is that? Why are they calling out to you? Why is their voice so familiar?

"Y/n... please..."

Please what? Your mind tries to focus, fighting to remember what has happened.

"Please... you gotta wake up. You gotta."

...Is that Grim? Why is he crying? You're fine!- tired, but fine!

Then it hits you- the fire. The burning heat. The stifling smoke. The raging fire. The stupid rock.

"Please, Y/n... I'm so sorry..."

Something wet falls on your face as your cheek is nudged.

"I'm so sorry..."

You aren't dead! ...at least, not yet. You will yourself to open your eyes. You need to let Grim know it's okay. You're okay. You are both okay.

"I'm sorry..." He lets out another gut wrenching sob that makes your heart hurt. Your body screams for rest, but Grim's sobs cut through the air like a blade. You barely notice the faint sound of the crackling fire, spurred on only by his cries.

It isn't his fault! It wasn't even the magic's fault, as much as you'd love to blame it. You were the one who told him to use a spell he had no experience in. The fault is yours. You can't let him think the blame is his!

"Please don't leave me..."

That raw, broken plea echoes in your mind. You barely register the paws hopelessly rocking you, or his begging for you to wake up. All you feel is the hollow ache in your chest and a sharp pain in your heart.

It doesn't make sense- he's begging you to stay?

Thoughts swirl around your mind faster than you can get them. There's so much you want to say, so much you want to ask. You don't know what to think. He should be angry with you. This doesn't make any sense.

...he thinks you'd leave him?

"Grim..."

You force your eyes to flutter open, willing yourself to move. You move to sit up and look for him, blinking as your eyes struggle to adjust to the light.

"Y/n?" He looks at you, frozen, eyes wide and filled with tears. He dives into your arms, knocking you backwards. His claws dig into you as he clutches onto you desperately, like you'll vanish if he lets go. He buries his face in your stomach as sobs rack through his body. "Y/n!"

You cough. "Hey, Grim."

"I'm sorry! I'm one lousy boss..."

"It's okay." You wheeze, holding him tighter. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He continues to choke out desperately, his small body trembling. "I thought you- I thought-"

"But I'm not." You assure him, eyes brimming with tears. You had been so certain that was the end that none of this feels real. You hold him tighter, cuddling him into you like a teddy bear. "I'm right here."

"I'm so sorry!" Grim shudders in your arms. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, if only I wasn't-" he cuts himself off with a sob.

"It's not your fault." You tell him, your own voice cracking. You feel hollow and full at the same time. "None of it is. I shouldn't have made you use the spell-" your voice cracks. You had almost killed you both. "Grim, I'm so sorry."

"Please don't go." He whimpers. "You're all I have."

You feel like you've just been stabbed. He sounds so broken, so small, like a child begging in the dark for their parents. A lump forms in your throat and you choke on your own sobs. Unable to speak, you pull him closer, burying your face in the top of his head. You try to convey the words you can't use: I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. I'm sorry. Please stop crying, it's not your fault. You're the most important thing I have. 

His tears were worse than any stupid king, any dumb deal, any burning fire, and you don't know what scheme you need to fix it.

"...you don't even know how much you matter to me, do you?" You are desperately trying to keep your voice steady. However, you know the answer and it kills you: of course he doesn't. You hadn't even realized yourself. You hold him tighter as he tries to find a way to snuggle even closer into you. "I've always thought I was the one who got left behind, but... you're not going to do that to me, are you?"

"No!" Grim sobs furiously, gripping you like a drowning man clutching driftwood, desperate and unrelenting, as if letting go meant losing everything forever. "Please, please, don't hate me."

You let out a sob, his plea leaving you unable to keep your composure. "I could never hate you. I'm sorry I made you so upset- I had no idea how much you cared until I saw you breaking. And now-" your voice cracks and holds him closer, trying to ease the pain in your heart. "I'm scared I don't know how to put you back together."

Silence fills the air for a moment, both of you clutching onto each other. You don't know how long you both stay like this- time around you seems to go still. The fire crackles behind you, slowly dying as you stay in each other's embrace. Eventually you both finally manage to catch your breath but neither of you move, you stay holding each other for a while, watching the waves crash into the shore. The sound is comforting.

"Y/n?" Grim is the one to break the silence with a small voice. When you look at him, he's already staring at you with large, unblinking eyes.

"Yes?"

"I'm not broken." He seems to have been waiting for the right moment or thing to say, but now that he's started he seems bashful to say it. "But if you leave me, I-" he stops and looks down at the grass, fear or rejection swallowing him.

You squeeze him closer. "I know."

A breeze blows over the two of you as you sit on that lawn, cooling your skin and brustling the grass steadily. Grim nuzzles closer.

"You really aren't gonna go without me?"

"No, Grim." You hold him closer. "I'm not. I never will."

The restaurant crumbles down behind you. The fire dies. You feel Grim's grip soften slightly, and you allow yourself to fully exhale. Somehow, you're both still here, and still with each other.

***

"No!" You throw your hands in the air in frustration, stomping up and down the pier. "No! No!"

"Maybe that guy'll give us a boat if we ask for it?" Grim suggests.

"No, I can almost guarantee he will not give us a boat, and even if he did, we don't even know how to drive it." You clench your jaw and stare out at the large galleon sailing away in the middle of the ocean.

"We have to get out there somehow!" Grim looks around the dock for anybody who can help. "I'll run down to the end and have a look."

"Fine. Don't eat any fish."

"I won't!" He calls over his shoulder, scampering off. You smile, then remember the story might be doomed and slump.

You wouldn't turn back the clock and take away any minute you had with Grim for anything. However, you can't deny that it was not the smartest move. You stare out at the ocean and think, desperately trying to come up with a way to get to the boat. You'd never make it rowing and you have no idea how to sail...

But how else are you supposed to catch up to a ship in the middle of the ocean?

You clutch the strap of your backpack tightly and bite your lip. There has to be a way!

"Y/n!" Grim calls. "I think I found something!"

"What?" You race over without a second thought.

Grim smacks his lips together as you stop short, looking at the floating barrel and fish with rope at the ready in its mouth. "It's a very determined seagull and a big yellow fish..."

You look out at the ocean. The surface shimmers in the light of the setting sun, a deceptive facade to hide the deep, dark abyss beneath that claimed no friend or foe. Suddenly, it feels as if the waves are alive, churning, roaring, breathing, waiting to claim their next victim...

...which is looking uncannily like a h/c, e/c girl who can't swim.

You deadpan. "Of course."

"Grab on!" Grim urges, climbing your leg and torso up to your shoulder. He perches like a parrot, making you feel like the pirate captain of a sad, empty wine barrel.

You look around, desperate for another option and find none.

You groan and jump off the pier into the shallow water. It comes up to your waist, wet clothes sticking against skin as you tie the rope around the barrel and the fish. You have no idea why it's here- shouldn't Rielle be using this? Why are the animals helping you instead?

Whatever. You have bigger things to worry about.

You grab a hold of the barrel, stomach churning. "Alright, let's go."

You scream as the fish moves forward and you're pulled into the water, dragged across the surface with nothing to stand on. Water enters your mouth and nose, making you cough and your sinuses burn. It wasn't even an hour ago when you had almost died of suffocation- and yet here you are, practically drowning. Grim's weight pushes you down even further, but thankfully it's not enough to submerge your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" He asks, peering around your hair/hijab to see your face.

You keep your eyes shut, willing this trip to be over. "Just peachy! Don't talk to me, I don't want water in my mouth- bleh!"

You can't get to the ship fast enough. You climb onto the deck, shivering and soaked. Your nose is running from the water, your skin is pruned, but you're just happy to stand up.

Grim shakes himself off and splatters you with all the water droplets on his fur. He looks up and gives you a concerned side eye. "Henchhuman? Are you okay?"

"I'm just great, Sparky."

That's a lie, you want a nap.

"The party's over that way!" Grim hurries over and pokes his head around the side of the bannister. You're at the back of the ship and the guests are dancing around the floor of the main deck below. You look around and spot the stars themselves: a blonde merman and dark haired princess. Erica is clinging to his arm and animatedly talking to another guest, whereas Rielle looks... sick to his stomach.

You smirk. Is the merman seasick?

It seems they haven't kissed yet, making you frown. They've been here this whole time- Rielle wasn't even stranded on the shore! Why haven't they booked a one way ticket to Romance City yet? You have been working so hard to get them there! Had Azul and the twins done something to them? But that didn't make any sense either- they're standing right next to each other!

Where are your lovely employers anyway?

You scan the area for their distinct work attire and spot Azul conversing with Grimsby on the far side of the ship. Well, Erica's retainer certainly isn't keeping the leads apart, so why aren't they smooching each other's faces off?

Where are the twins? You scan the area around Azul and Grimsby. They have to be close to him. There's no way they-

"Heya, Shrimpy! What up, Sealie?"

You feel your blood run cold. You look over at Grim and see him booking it, sprinting toward the party.

You turn around to look at the twins. They don't seem to care much about him yet, instead appearing a mix of annoyed, amused, awed, and most of all...

Confused. You don't blame them for that one- the ship probably left over an hour ago and you're dribbling a puddle on the floor wearing clothes which are far more singed than when they last saw you.

However when you look at them, all you feel is rage. You stand trembling as fury fills your whole being.

"YOU SLIMY EELS!" You march toward them, ready to tackle whoever is closer.

They look at you, any other emotions being replaced with surprise. They freeze as you march in front of them, screaming and pointing a finger in Jade's face.

Jade blinks. "How did you-"

"We could have died!" You scream. "You tricked me! You deceiving, lying, cheating little-"

A hand is slapped over your mouth and your arms are trapped behind you. "Stop being so loud, Shrimpy." Floyd warns. "Else I'm gonna have to give you a big squeeze."

You writhe furiously in his hold, kicking and twisting with all your might. "Mmm mmm mmmmmm!"

"Floyd," Jade smiles with a furrowed brow. "Perhaps a lighter touch? It's best that we discuss this in another room."

"Aw..." Floyd whines. "Fine. Still wanna squeeze her though."

"Alas, it seems Grim got away." Jade sighs.

"Mmm mmm mmm!"

"Yes yes," Jade hums, looking at you curiously. "You can tell us all about it in a minute."

***

You struggle against the ropes, swearing like a sailor.

"Will you please calm down?" Jade sighs. "No one can hear you, so we might as well have a civil discussion."

You glare at him. You're currently tied up in one of the rooms of the ship- you have no idea how they even got access to it. However, it would be on brand for them to have booked their own private space.

"There's a good Shrimpy!" Floyd coos, smirking. "Your yelling was kinda harshing my vibe."

"Where is Azul!" You demand. "And where is his necklace?"

They exchange a look and turn back to you, eyebrows raised. "He's not wearing a necklace."

You frown, going silent. You hadn't seen it, but you had simply assumed it was under his shirt. However, the two didn't appear to be lying.

Where is it then?

Your blood runs cold. You weren't sure exactly how, but the deal had changed. Since Rielle hadn't offered up his voice, did that mean...

Did the shell even exist in this version?

"Woah, Shrimpy turned colours." Floyd marvels with an impressed grin. "Why're you so pale?"

"Are you feeling alright?" Jade asks, which you find ironic. "And why would you want a necklace?"

You don't answer.

"How'd you know Jade and I were mermen?" Floyd presses.

"Furthermore, how did you reach the ship?"

You stubbornly remain silent. They won't hurt you... not yet, at least. They need information from you. Thankfully, Grim had escaped, so maybe he can figure something out before their patience runs thin.

You're also very aware of the setting sun. You need to find the shell as soon as possible, if it even exists. Maybe this version of the story will have some equivalent that will work? You scrunch your face. What if it still exists, but isn't a shell? Then what could it be? What does Azul wear all the time that could be the equivalent? You stare at the twins, studying their uniform to remember his. What could it be?

Then, it clicks.

It isn't going to be a necklace, but that was never what you needed. You needed the Shell of Silence.

Like the one on Azul's hat.

That had to be it, right? It seems like a good enough answer- you have to try. But you need to get to Azul! How are you going to do that? You're tied up with ropes, and there's no way to get the message to Grim.

The twins stare at you, waiting for information. They want answers, and they intend to get them whether you like it or not.

"Where's Azul?"

Floyd raises an eyebrow. "Talkin' with the stuffy guys at the party. Why?"

You laugh to yourself ruefully. Though they had never meant to, they had almost killed you in that fire. And yet, here you are ready to play with it. Irony really is a funny thing, however, these flames may be the only thing to stop you from drowning.

Hopefully, this time, you don't get burned.

You look them dead in the eye and utter the most dangerous words you possibly can- exactly the same ones that started this whole mess.

"I want to make a deal."

Chapter Text

Grim is too anxious to even glance at the buffet. Instead, he hides under its tablecloth, peeking out at the guests twirling across the dance floor. Soft music fills the space, creating a serene atmosphere that only contrasts with the turmoil knotting in his chest.

Where have you gone?

Grim watches Azul talking amicably with Grimsby, who unfortunately is likely his best chance at finding you. He also sees Rielle and Erica, though they aren’t doing much. Every time he looks, Erica is unsuccessfully trying to drag him to the dance floor. For some reason, Rielle seems distracted. Grim hopes he gets his act together.

“Azul!” A voice calls out, and one of the twins (Grim can’t tell which) rushes over. He leans down and whispers something into his boss’s ear before they excuse themselves and slip away.

Grim looks around, then moves to follow them. 

But wait! He pauses, unsure, and his ears fall back against his head. What if they aren’t going to you at all? What if whatever they’re doing is entirely unrelated, or a trap?

He can’t be seen. You’re a thief- how would you sneak around?

“You pull away, slipping the crown off the podium and taking it with you. You’re in the clear. 

Then you knock the top of the crown against the guard’s hand.”

“‘Giddyup, Sparky!’ You yell as Grim goes under another bush and sprints forward.”

“You practically dive through the window Grim had scouted yesterday, rolling onto the floor with a thud. You make eye contact with a guard.”

“You look down and see Ruggie’s cart rolling into the courtyard. You clutch the vase tighter and jump over the side.”

“You pull out the scroll and noisemaker…”

Scratch that, turns out that you are a terrible example. Strange, because your walk is almost silent. Like pick pocketing, it is a subtle indicator of your skill in the trade. Maybe it was one of the things that had caught Crowley’s eye?

Now that he thinks about it, how did you even meet Crowley? Grim still doesn’t know the full story. He understands that Crowley rescued you from the King after Prince Whats-His-Face followed you to Ramshackle, but why did the King want you in the first place?

Grim pushes these thoughts to the side. He can ask you about them later, but right now he needs to focus. He decides to follow the mermen from a distance, down a hallway where they enter a room and shut the door. Grim rushes down and presses his ear against it.

He needs a sign you’re in there. Then, he can get you out.

“So good to see you, my Dear!” Azul’s smooth, muffled voice announces from within. “How are you doing? Apart from being tied up, of course.”

There’s a pause as if he’s waiting for an answer, which he never receives. When he speaks again, Azul’s tone has shifted dramatically.

“How did you find out?” He asks, and Grim can hear the tension crackling through the door like a storm about to break. “It’s rude to lurk.”

Silence fills the room. The person seems reluctant to tell him anything, not that Grim can blame them- especially if the other twin is in there too. Grim shudders. 

Still, since he can’t tell who’s inside, should he go? While they’re distracted, this could be his chance to find you. What would you do?

“Well, nevermind that.” Azul hums. “I’ll find out in due time. We both know why I’m here- you want to make a deal.”

…is this person insane? That’s the dumbest thing Grim has ever heard of in his life. This isn’t you. You aren’t that dumb. Grim turns to leave.

“I do.” A voice rings out. “I need an authentic mermaid outfit.”

Grim’s ears twitch.

***

“You want a what?” Azul asks, checking to make sure he has heard you correctly.

“A mermaid outfit.” You repeat from the chair you’re tied to. You feel the rays of the setting sun on your back out the window behind you like a clock. Earlier, you contemplated the odds of you escaping through it until you realizes there was nothing but water below you. Nobody would hear you over the crashing waves either, so your best bet was to lead Grim to you and give him enough time to get you out. “It’s very important that I acquire one.”

Silence. You’re met with the stunned and confused looks of Azul, Floyd, and Jade, who can’t tell if you’re yanking their chain.

“...a what?” Azul repeats, tilting his head closer.

You huff. “A mermaid outfit! How many times do I need to say it?!’

They look at each other, then Floyd shoots you a look that’s equal parts skeptical and stunned. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not!” You gasp. “Are you three seriously the ones calling me dishonest here? May I remind you that I have been nothing but a cooperative, law abiding person? I worked off my debt to you after Sparky stole the fish with honest labour, and even offered to stay behind and take inventory to make your lives easier! If this is how you treat people you work with then I don’t even want to make a deal with you!” You humph and look off to the side.

“Wait!” Azul smiles sweetly. “My apologies, you’re absolutely right. We have good reasons for what we did, I assure you. Tell us what we want to know and we’ll explain everything- and get you, ah…. What is it?”

So you can hear what I know and then spin my version of events? While you’ve still got me tied up? Yeah, right.

“A mermaid outfit..” You sniff, still looking off to the side indignantly. “Fine. In that case, I want something to eat first.”

Floyd deadpans. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m hungry!” You snap. “You know how much energy it took to get here?”

“How did you get here?” Jade presses. “You didn’t swim all the way from shore on your own.”

“Get me food and I might tell you.”

Azul exchanges a look with the twins before turning to you. “Of course. What would you like?”

“Calamari.” You look at him innocently. “We’re on a ship- surely the party has some?”

Azul inhales deeply.

***

Grim rushes out onto the deck and looks around. What now? Magic is out of the question. His stomach drops even thinking about it. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone ever again.

…but if he can’t use magic, will you ditch him?

“No offence, but what exactly are you bringing to the table?”

“I have magic!”

You already hate magic. After seeing what he did, what if you hate him by extension?

What if you always did? Now that you’ve seen only the worst of his magic, will you refuse to be with him at all since he’s useless?

You said it was okay, but you say you’re okay all the time when it’s clearly not true.

…does he even want to be a mage anymore, and risk hurting you- or anyone else ever again?

***

“So I want it to have sequins,” you list off, “and pearls, because you know. Fish.”

“Why do you want a mermaid outfit?” Jade asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I figure if I’m dealing with actual mermen I should have the proper attire. You know,” you add flatly, “cause I respect you guys so much and everything.”

“You know there’s no set mermaid attire, don’t you Shrimpy?” Floyd inhakes, tapping his foot against the floor. “Clothes are a human thing. We basically swim around naked. Wanna see?”

“Floyd.” Jade grits his teeth and looks to the ceiling. “Stop.”

Azul facepalms, looking like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His whole face has gone red, much to your amusement.

You look directly at Floyd. “Are you hitting on me?”

He chokes on air. “What?” 

“I mean,” you explain, “you did tie me up. I don’t know, I’m getting some pretty mixed signals here.”

Jade looks at you, eyes wide and face tinted pink.

“I’ll squeeze you.” Floyd threatens, trying to regain his sense of control and look menacing.

“That’s not helping.”

He splutters, and Azul looks ready to faint.

***

“Would you like to dance now, Rielle?” Erica asks him, wrapping herself around his arm and pulling it closer to her chest.

Rielle looks down at her. Her eyes are bright, sparkling, and shining with hope. He feels bad but wishes she would take a hint. He’s pretty sure she wanted to kiss him last night on the boat, so he spent the whole time dodging questions and avoiding eye contact whenever she leaned in. It’s become exhausting. 

Still, he understands how she feels. For some reason you don’t seem to like him very much, though he can’t think of a reason why. He supposes you are just protective of the Princess. 

In a way, that makes it worse. Erica is beautiful- he had thought so since the moment he first laid eyes on her. And brave! He very well could have fallen in love with her.

But then you appeared, and he saw that you are all of that and more. You‘re considerate and brave- you hadn’t been scared when you had seen him. In fact, you were empathetic enough to put yourself in his shoes! Would Erica have thought of that?

No. Erica is determined and adventurous- both qualities he likes and admires in her. But you know when to listen. You may not have been born a princess like she was, but you have the heart of one. Just thinking about you makes him swoon.

“No thank you.” Rielle shakes his head and pulls his arm away. Her face falls.

I’m sorry.

Still, Rielle’s not even sure he could stomach a dance in the first place. He needs to find a way off this ship and get to you… wherever you are. Though the sun is still fairly high in the sky, it’s still setting, painting hues of red and yellow across the ocean.

Rielle glances over to where Azul had been talking to Grimsby. No wonder he had been able to give him human legs- who knew the Sea Witch had a side hustle on land? He supposes it’s a little morbid- Rielle eyes the fish on the table the Mostro Lounge had been responsible for catering- but it pays.

Rielle remembers Azul’s encouraging smile from earlier. He really is a genuine person, though not afraid to get his hands dirty. Still, Rielle doesn’t want to be a polyp. Maybe he should have negotiated a different deal. If you recognized him, you might have approached him yourself instead of sending Erica his way. Maybe he would have kissed someone on that boat ride last night. Maybe…

For the first time in his life—and perhaps all time—the merman feels a wave of seasickness.

“Rielle! Erica!”” Someone screeches, and Rielle looks around the sea of faces for whoever it could be. He almost screams when his leg is suddenly grabbed, looking down in horror. A familiar pair of bright blue eyes look up at him.

“Grim?” He yelps. “How did you-”

“No time!” Grim shakes his head, practically clawing Rielle’s leg desperately. “Y/n’s in trouble!”

Rielle’s eyes darken, and he feels his heart stop. “What?”

***

“I can’t believe it!” You wail. “You’re gatekeeping being a mermaid from me!”

“No!” Azul grits his teeth. “If that’s what you want, I can make you a mermaid. Just-”

“No!” You screech. “I see how it is! Only mermaids get cool outfits!”

“Mermaids don’t wear outfits!”

“I’m reporting you for denying my dreams of being a mermaid princess!”

Jade steps forward, eager to grasp even the slightest bit of information. “And who will you be reporting to?”

“The Underwater Fashion Police of course!”

Floyd looks at Azul and Jade. “Can I squeeze her.”

“No!” They snap back. 

“I’m going back upstairs.” Azul takes a deep breath and adjusts his suit. “I’ll look into a mermaid outfit… whatever that means, but I’m finished wasting time.”

“Aw!” You pout. “But we’re all having so much fun together!”

Floyd glares at you. “No, we’re-”

“Someone’s coming!” Jade hisses from by the door.

“HELLLP.” You shout flatly, only for Floyd to lunge over and clamp a hand over your mouth.

“Be quiet-” he stops mid-sentence, realizing you’re wiggling your eyebrows. With a sigh, he looks up at the ceiling like he’s questioning why fate cursed him with your presence.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Wrong room!” Azul calls, only for the door to be blasted open. Everyone ducks away in shock, and Floyd moves to cover you from the blue flames. A tall, blonde man appears in the doorway with a small, furry monster at his side.

“Rielle!” Azul pales and forces a smile. “I can expl-” His sentence is abruptly cut off as Rielle’s fist connects with his face.

Grim scurries to your side and releases a blast of heat, weakening the ropes enough for you to pull free. However, Floyd reacts just as quickly. He grabs your wrists, holding them against the chair and locking you under him. He looks into your eyes.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Grim bares his teeth and lunges at him, sinking his fangs into his hand. Floyd yelps and reflexively pulls away, freeing you. You worm yourself out of his other hand and shove past him to the exit.

Meanwhile, Rielle tackles Azul to the ground, distracting Jade. You run right past him as he tries to restrain the determined blonde from killing his boss, who’s groaning on the floor and trying to protect himself from a flurry of punches.

“Wait-” Floyd calls after you as you run out the door, Grim at your heels.

You sprint out onto the main deck and look around for Erica, pushing through the crowd. Finally, you spot her—a vision in a stunning white and blue dress looking every bit the princess she is. This is Rielle’s true love, and she’s probably wondering where on earth he disappeared to.

When she spots you, her eyes grow wide with shock. She looks you up and down, rushing over with a gasp. “Y/n! How did you get here? Where’s Rielle?”

“In a fist fight with my landlord.”

“What?!”

“Quickly! We need your help! Grab some guards and come with me!” You grab her by the wrist and try to tug her in the direction you came from. She pulls back.

“Y/n, what’s going on here?”

“Rielle is in trouble!” You explain frantically. “Azul, Jade, and Floyd-”

“Mr. Ashengrotto and company?”

“Yes!” You nod, trying to pull her along. “Rielle came to save me since they had me tied up downstairs and now he’s in trouble too! Guards, Erica! Guards!”

She stares at you, still refusing to budge. “Are you feeling well?”

“No!” You screech, turning around. Your eyes are bloodshot from salt and all the crying you’ve been doing. Your hair is damp and crunchy. Your clothes are still wet and definitely not suited for the occasion. You smell like a fish. “Obviously not! I literally swam across the ocean to get here!”

She winces and looks around. “Guards!”

You sigh. “Thank yo-”

“Seize her!”

You freeze and turn around, eyes wide. You’re not even sure you heard her right until you see the six guards rushing over to restrain you.

Erica refuses to meet your eyes, looking to the side guiltily.

Your voice is small. “Erica?”

The guards grab you by the arms and the next thing you know, you’re on your knees with your head down before her.

***

“Let go of me!” Rielle thrashes and squirms in the twin’s arms. Azul has to give the blonde credit where it’s due- not many people are strong enough, or crazy enough, that both Jade and Floyd are needed to hold them down.

Azul has a wicked glint behind his eyes, though he speaks calmly. Blood drips from his nose, and his skin is a patchwork of blues and purples. “Let’s all calm down, shall we? Y/n has escaped, which means the guards will likely be down here any second.”

“I hope they cut out your tongue.” Rielle spits, which surprises Azul. When the Prince had come to him for help impressing a human girl, he had been disgustingly innocent and unsuspecting. Now, he looks at Azul with pupils mere pinpricks against a turbulent gray sea of anger. His breath comes in ragged, seething gasps, nostrils flaring as his fingers tremble. His jaw is clenched so tightly that it seems his teeth might crack, and the veins in his neck bulge as if they could burst at any moment. Every muscle in his body is tense, as if he is barely restraining the violence within. 

What happened to him?

“Charming.” Azul drawls, wiping blood from his nose. The prince is louder now and annoying in a whole new way, but the businessman doesn’t care enough to probe. “Though, you certainly do make things easier.”

Rielle’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“I might almost feel guilty if you continued to behave like a naive child, but you’re the ideal hostage.” Azul steps forward, eyes emotionless and hollow. “I have no intention of going down with this ship.”

“Before we do anything else, perhaps we should see how the guests above react to Y/n’s claims.” Jade proposes. “We are in good standing with the elites, and she is essentially a nobody to them.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she friends with the princess?” Floyd points out.

“Stay. Away from her!” Rielle seethes. “I swear, if you lay one hand on Y/n then I’ll-”

“Silence him.”

Floyd casually kicks the blonde’s back, forcing him to cut himself off with a groan.

“We will see the Princess’s reaction.” Azul agrees. “And act from there.”

***

“Why?” You stare at Erica, eyes wide with hurt. The guests have formed a crowd to spectate the drama unfolding, whispering amongst themselves. You’re humiliated. “Erica, what’s going on?”

“Y/n, you’re acting erratic!” She explains. “You need to calm down!”

“Are you kidding?” You stare at her, wounded and bewildered. 

“You never showed up at the docks, no explanation, only appear on the ship when it’s miles from shore, drenched, hair looking like you haven’t brushed it in your life, send your ferret to get Rielle, and then claim he’s getting jumped by three of the most benevolent men in the Kingdom?”

“You don’t understand!” You try to explain. Why do you always have guards after you? “Also that hair comment was not necessary. It’s Azul-”

“The philanthropist who funded this whole event? You seriously expect me to believe that?”

Of course he did.

“Erica,” You tell her slowly. “Rielle is in trouble. Are you really willing to risk something happening to him?”

Her eyes widen, hurt, as her face turns bright red. “Not the point!”

“What is the point then?”

“You’re acting crazy! What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not crazy!” You argue. “Go down and see for yourself! Azul and the others are down there with Rielle-”

“Is Rielle hurt?”

“Well… I mean, probably by now!”

“Probably? By now?” She gives you a look. “So you don’t even know?”

“There’s three of them and one of him!” You argue.

“Why would they be attacking Rielle?”

“We didn’t.” Everyone’s eyes drift to the bloody, bruised, and grimacing businessman emerging from the hall. Behind him, the twins drag Rielle out by the arms. “He attacked me.”

The crowd gasps, and Erica puts her hand to her mouth in shock.

“No…” Your eyes start to water as you make eye contact with Rielle. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are soft.

“…you were right.” Erica mumbles softly. “He is crazy. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you before, Y/n, but don’t worry.” Her eyes are full of tears when she looks back at you, expression gentle. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

You stare at her, unable to respond. How are you supposed to get out of this one? Both you and Rielle are restrained and have been labelled crazy while Azul and the twins stand there, controlling the narrative to the crowd around them. Worst of all, Erica has lost faith in Rielle.

How is he supposed to get true love’s kiss now?

“Ah!” The guard behind you screeches. “Racoon!”

Using his new favourite move, Grim leaps on the man, growling, scratching, and biting. It may not involve magic,  it it’s effective nonetheless.

“Y/n!” Erica gasps. “Wait!” 

“Rielle!” You sprint forward and tackle him, the sudden impact forcing Jade and Floyd to let the blonde slip from their grip. Quickly, they move to restrain you as Rielle wiggles free. “Go-mph?!”

“NO!” Azul screams, composed demeanor falling away in seconds as he sprints to pull you apart.

You don’t know how to react as Rielle’s lips are pressed against yours. Mind blank from shock, you find yourself unable to do anything but stare straight ahead blankly. You don’t even register his hair changing colour until he’s pulled away. His blue eyes look into your e/c ones as he gives you a smile, red hair reflecting the remaining rays of sunlight.

“...Rielle?” Erica whimpers.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Azul yanks you back as if he can stop what has already happened. Noticing the defiant, blue eyed scowl that’s being sent his way, he screams. “No!”

Your mind is spinning. Rielle traded his appearance for legs… for YOU???

Dear lord, this story is screwed.

That’s when it hits you. You have an audience. Mortified, you look around the ship, face turning as red as Rielle’s hair. Your eyes lock with Erica’s, who looks as if her soul is being torn apart. You really hope things reset after you leave.

“Ah… Ahhh…”

You look at Azul, looming above you with soulless, hollow eyes.

“Aaah, aaaaah…”

The twins look at him, concerned.

Jade reaches out tentatively. “Azul-”

“NGAAAAAH! I HATE THIIIS!”

The crowd jumps as he suddenly wails, alarmed.

“Azul,” Jade tries to pull him away.

“It’s gone.” Azul mutters, eyes vacant as he stares at his feet. “My carefully threaded plans… our omnipotent power…”

“Mr. Ashengrotto?” Grimsby hurries toward his friend. “What’s going on? Please step away from them- they’re highly unstable individuals.”

“All of it, up in smoke!” Azul screeches, ignoring everyone around him. It no longer seems to connect with him that he has an audience. Any thoughts of maintaining his carefully crafted facade have long since disappeared, replaced only with the anguish of loss. You can tell he’s having a breakdown, which means you can’t talk your way out of this. “How could you DO this to me?!”

You wince, and immediately shove Jade. “Sparky!”

“Raaaaaaaargh!” He snarls, lunging at Floyd and biting his already sore hand from earlier. Floyd tries to fight him off whilst maintaining his grip on you, but eventually can’t hold on.

“Get off of her!” Rielle shrieks, and throws himself at Jade, clawing at his eyes.

Your glance at Erica as you stand, catching her gaze. They hold a pool of emotions: confusion, shock, remorse, and betrayal. It feels like a punch to your gut.

I didn’t know. I swear.

No one seems to be able to move, the guests standing around and watching in horror until Grimsby steps forward. “Guards! Restrain them!”

“No!” Azul leaps for you like a man possessed. “You’re not getting away!”

You act on pure instinct: you swing your fist toward him, knocking him on the jaw. He stumbles to the side, and you lunge for his hat.

“Sparky, time to go!”

Azul glares at you, breathing heavily. “No! You… you impudent little-”

“Y/n?” Rielle calls. “Wait!”

You and Grim sprint to the back of the ship, Azul hot on your heels. You need to find a safe spot to teleport. With your heart pounding in your chest, you race back to the room where you were captured, the sound of Azul’s footsteps crashing behind you.

“Get her!”

You and Grim burst inside, slamming the door behind you. Pressing your back against it to block the exit, you fumble with your necklace.

Azul pounds on the door. “Get out of there you insignificant fool!”

“No thanks, I’m very comfortable in here!” 

“You ruined everything!” He yells. “All my hard work, gone!”

“Look, I’m sorry!” You yell back, bringing the necklace off of your neck. “I didn’t mean to interfere! Trust me, I really didn’t!”

Azul pounds at the door. “You were out to get me this whole time!”

“No!” Unfortunately, you have no way of keeping the door shut without your weight. You need to get him to stop banging on the door so you can get closer to the window. “I just wanted your hat!”

How can you get him to stop? You either need to scare or shock him, and you doubt you’ll be able to manage the former. You think back to all your interactions with him, and the ones that left him the most stunned.

“Why would you want my hat?” He demands, pushing against the door.

“Not important!” You yell, unable to believe you’re about to admit this. “But I never wanted to hurt you because I am very much attracted to you!”

The pounding stops instantly, and you can imagine how red his face must be on the other side of the door.

Good. Let him suffer.

“…what?” Another voice asks. Rielle.

Oh bother. 

Why do men make everything so complicated!

“It’s his fault! He could have had me as part of his mermaid army but he refused to give me an outfit. It’s not me, it’s you!” You dart away from the door and lower your voice to Grim. “We need to go, now!” 

The monster gives you the most judgemental look you have ever received in your life. “You liked Azul?”

“We can discuss that later!” You grit your teeth and hold the crystal up the light. “Through!”

With one last look he leaps into the gem’s fading refraction, and you follow him into the light.

***

Rielle has been labelled a madman on land, and can’t return to the sea without magic. Much to Azul’s delight, the prince is being brought to the royal dungeon. Serves him right for costing Azul his father’s trident.

Erica clings to Azul’s arm, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that! I can’t believe how manipulative he was!”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He assures her. “But I must be going. Have a good night, Princess.”

“Good night, Mr. Ashengrotto.” She giggles. He flashes her a charming smile, though it hurts his face to do so. He doesn’t plan on being out of bed for a while. Still, he turns up the last of his charm for the princess.

“Please, call me Azul.”

She giggles. “Only if you call me Erica.”

He smiles at her softly, gazing into her eyes. “You have my word.”

“Princess.” Grimsby calls, and sends Azul an approving look. “Let’s be on our way, now.”

“Good night, Azul!” She giggles, batting her eyelashes.

“Farewell, Miss Erica.”

Once she’s out of earshot, Azul drops his smile. “What a trusting, idealistic airhead.”

“Incredibly so.” Jade agrees. “What’s the plan with Y/n?”

“The guard I charmed earlier will support our claim that we have brought our former colleague into our custody for rehabilitation.” Azul explains. “Out of the goodness of our hearts, of course.”

“Ha.” Floyd snorts. “What a load of morons.”

Azul sighs as they begin walking. “I apologize for my earlier behaviour.”

“It’s fine.” Floyd laughs. “Keeps things interesting.”

“I’m glad it was interesting,” Azul remarks dryly, shooting him a look.

“Not as interesting as our former kitchen hand.” Jade states, lacing his fingers together.

“That’s a lotta trouble to go for just for one measily hat.” Floyd agrees. “They’re not even cool, like shoes or something.”

“I have to agree. There’s also the fact that she specifically wanted mine when it would have been so easy to simply acquire one from the Mostro Lounge.” Azul points out. This has been the longest, strangest, and most emotional day he’s had in a long time. You most certainly are an oddball…

Azul’s face begins to burn as he thinks back on what you had said before you disappeared.

“I am very much attracted to you!”

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought you are pretty, but had never crossed his mind that you could think the same. The memory alone sent his mind spiraling. Why had you wanted his hat? Where did you come from? Where had you gone?

“The weasel has magic.” Azul clears his throat, walking further ahead of the twins to hide his face. “We can trace it and find out where they went.”

“Excellent plan,” Jade says with a smile, a practiced mask for his true thoughts.

“Can’t wait!” Floyd chuckles, his grin wide with excitement. “She was a real hassle, but it’s fun! I’m gonna give her a big squeeze.”

“Then it’s decided,” Azul smirking slyly. “We’ll start our work in the morning.”

Satisfied, they turn the corner. The night was simply a bump in their road to omnipotent power. They would regroup, strategize, and before anybody knew it they would be the rulers of the land and sea. 

Their smiles fade in unison as they reach the spot where the Mostro Lounge once stood, now reduced to nothing but a heap of ashes and shattered business plans. Their stomachs drop in horror.

Had you started it, or been a victim of the flames? Is this petty revenge or a barely eluded tragedy?

Azul swallows. The restaurant didn’t set itself on fire, and it is unlikely that anyone else would be linked to the flames. You, somehow, are connected to this.

Did you do it in an attempt to get back at them for locking you inside? How terribly reckless of you.

Worse yet, did you somehow start a fire while inside? How did you manage that?! Did you turn on the stove and throw napkins on it? Are you that clueless?

Azul pauses. No, that’s unfair to you. You are clearly incredibly intelligent, however you have had a rough past. You aren’t naive the same way Erica or Rielle are- though he strongly doubts either of their privileged behinds would know their way around a kitchen either. You are not naive by nature, but due to lack of opportunity. 

…had you tried to cook something?

What happened?

Oh, you poor thing. You must have been so terrified! Azul feels his heart constrict in his chest. Even if you have ruined his carefully constructed plans, you didn’t deserve this- if it had been an accident. 

You have no idea, do you? Either you are the most petty person he has ever met, which while it angers him to think of the length you had gone to to prove a point he can respect it, or unfairly clueless in ways that are not your fault.

However, he can’t simply let you off the hook. Not for this. He has a debt to collect, and he has no plans of letting you escape it.

Chapter Text

You were thirteen now, and you hated green eyed floozies.

You tried not to make your glare too obvious as Odin chatted with this girl.

Again.

She was pretty, with a tall frame, auburn hair, and stupid green eyes which Odin talked about constantly.

You looked at your own dark hair. Would he prefer it if it were auburn too?

You shook your head clear of your thoughts. You were acting like an idiot.

Odin walked back inside with a dreamy smile on his face, signalling her departure.

“You’ve  got  to meet her Y/n! She’s just… perfect.”

“Odin,” you said gently, “you met her a week ago.”

“It’s true love!” He insisted. Your mood instantly soured.

“It’s not true love. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous!” Odin replied. “What do you even know about true love anyways?”

You don’t give a reply, the subject was dropped. Instead, Odin turned his attention to one of the nobles walking past. “Yours or mine?”

“…”

Odin sighed and rolled his eyes when you refused to respond, walking over. A second later he returned with her purse as you wistfully watched the woman walk away.

“Sixteen gold pieces.” He looked up, then turned to see what you were staring at. “What about her?”

“It’s not fair.” You sighed. “I wanna be able to wear those dresses and make my hair pretty like that too.”

“That’s the way of the world.” Odin nodded, looking back over at the woman. “Though in all fairness, I don’t think you need all that stuff to look pretty.”

Your cheeks burned and you averted your eyes. “Thanks… but I still want it.”

Odin hummed to himself. “Well, I guess there is technically a way to get it.”

“How?” You looked at him curiously, though he was already shaking his head.

“No, it’s a dumb idea.”

“Tell me!”

He looked over at your hopeful expression and sighed. “Well, we’ve only ever pickpocketed people.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s enough to get by, but most people don’t carry all their money on them when they go out.”

“Are you saying-”

“Yeah.” Odin nodded. “If you want to make more money off nobles, it’ll be in the place where they live.”

Things are boring—the usual excitement has become so dreadfully dull. It is monotonous, every individual as crazy as the last. There is still an “ordinary” in “extraordinary,” after all.

It wasn’t always like this. Actually… Maybe it’s not even a fair comparison. Before you came along, everything felt endlessly exciting. Maybe now everything just seems dull in comparison because after you, how can it not?

You lied to him. He knows that- but he didn’t mind. He’ll was just going to figure out where you actually went and meet you there.

He giggles, picturing what your face would have looked like: mouth hanging open, eyes wide like a fish. It would have been hilarious.

Oh, but don’t worry. He still finds the idea endearing! And then you’d smile afterward and everything would have been perfect.

The problem is, somehow, you simply vanished. It’s like you disappeared off the face of the earth!

He only confirms it after watching the blonde in nice clothes with a staff and the man wrapped in a hooded blanket (who clearly hate each other) disappear outside a strange building by holding a crystal up to the light. Could you vanish like that too?

Well, that wouldn’t do at all. Do you come from here as well? Is this where everyone in this world travels from?

The building is large but perfectly ordinary. Really, he has no idea why you would prefer such a place when you could have so much fun with him. He had to go inside and investigate.

There’s an appropriately dressed man in black feathers which he has to sneak past, but after that it’s easy. He even finds those rooms with the funny spells on them. Rooms even he can’t magically pass through! They’re terribly interesting… Maybe you can show him what’s inside when he finds you! That could be a fun little date. Whoever went to that much trouble to keep people out surely wouldn’t be happy if you both got in. He laughs at the thought.

There’s one room with the same enchantments, but the door is open. How surprising! Maybe the security is worse than he thought?

He goes inside, and looks around in amazement. What are all these? They’re like whirlpools but silver and sideways and not.

Maybe they’re like metallic chocolate? The completely dark one over there is certainly a more chocolatey color.

He tries to lick the pools, but all he gets is cool air. That’s certainly puzzling. He wants chocolate!- or at least mud. Now that he’s closer, it certainly smells fouler than chocolate.

That’s when he spots the ornate designs around the frame. Cards, spade spears, roses, mushrooms…

He inspects the other, not-muddy pools, and sees the different designs. He also notices another frame, one with animal bones and rocks decorating the frame. It has enough dark swirls streaking through it that it’s like the silver is the strange part, like the pool itself is infected.

How odd.

He walks back over to the undeniably Wonderland-esque frame to inspect the dark swirls.

It looks a whole lot more like ink, now that he thinks about it.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh…

Oh, you poor, naive, little thing.

You did this, didn't you?

Now it all makes sense.

Do you really think things will go back to normal after you leave?

Don’t get him wrong, it totally could.

But you are just far too extraordinary for that.

“Hello?”

Footsteps! He hops up onto the frame of Wonderland’s mirror and hangs carefully over the top, his body hiding behind the pool.

It’s the feathered man! He hurries in, looking around. “Y/n? Have you at last emerged from your maritime revelry in The Little Mermaid?”

The man is met with silence and shakes his head. He must think he’s mistaken. After all, who could possibly enter the building he placed oh-so-many protection spells on?

Then something interesting happens. The man freezes, noticing the streaks in the pool of the animal frame. He walks over, eyes wide.

“No…”

Who is this funny man? Does he know? What is his relation to you? He seems to care an awful lot about your return…

When the Bird Man leaves the room, the intruder jumps down from the frame and enters the Wonderland mirror as a lazy way back home. He appears in the maze, fantastically close to his next destination. A group of guards standing nearby spot him immediately and rush over, weapons raised. “Stop by order of the King!”

“Hello! You wouldn’t be able to take me to dear old Riddle, pur-chance?”

“You’ll see him soon enough.” A soldier takes his arm and moves to drag him away. “You’re under arrest! …where’d he go?”

Che’nya chuckles at their buffoonish antics before appearing in the castle, vanishing in and out of each room as he searches for his target.

Ah, good. There’s Riddle! This should be good- Che’nya prepositions his bodiless head beside the distracted King, who is absorbed in his book. The cat grins.

“Hello!”

Riddle jumps and drops his text, turning to the interloper and glaring. Upon realizing who it is, he stands up and seethes. “You… OFF-”

“None of that meow.” Che’nya chides. “Unless mew don’t want to hear what meow have to say? About a certain… thorn in your side?”

“I have no interest in hearing your life story, Che’nya.”

The cat laughs, only making the King scowl harder. “No, not meow… a certain thief who’s taken something away from you.”

Riddle’s eyes and Che’nya’s grin both grow wide.

“Tell me what you know.”

Che’nya grins. He has no intention of working with Riddle forever- in fact, it’s really only until he stops being entertaining.

You, however, will never not be entertaining. And without fun, is life really worth living? No, it is not.

That’s why Che’nya knows the rest of his life would be so much better with you beside him.

A magical beastman and an interdimensional thief

Now, wouldn’t that be extraordinary?

***

You step into the Mirror Chamber, your energy drained. Breathing heavily, you jog lightly across the room as the adrenaline fades. Grim follows closely behind, and you find Crowley in the kitchen preparing a meal- one you hope has enough for seconds and thirds.

“Good heavens!” Crowley jumps when he notices you’ve appeared behind him, then scowers you up and down. “What dreadful calamity has befallen you both? Are you unscathed?”

You hold up the shell. “If it’s the wrong one, I’m not going back.”

“No, you have obtained the right item. However, your enthusiasm for exsistence seems to have been lost in the process.”

“Almost burning alive will do that to you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Crowley nearly drops the shell (which you would have smacked him for) due to how quickly his head whips around to see you. “Burned alive? How did this happen? You were in a tale most famous for its ocean!”

Grim looks away, but neither of you notice.

“We had an incident involving the sea witch.” You sigh, putting your head in your hands on the table. “Can I have one of your teas? The usual kind you make me.”

“Of course!” Crowley turns around and immediately sets some water to boil. “Are you both alright?”

“We’re fine.” You tell him. “Just really tired. That’s been the worst story yet, by far.”

“Apprise me of every minutia.”

So you do, from Azul’s betrayal to Rielle’s kiss as Crowley prepares and serves the food. You munch as you explain, and he hangs on your every word. By the end of it, Crowley is pacing across the kitchen like a madman, muttering angry things under his breath that you can’t quite make out.

“How dare they…” You briefly hear him mumble. “Mountebanks… consent… can’t even make a decent cup of tea…”

“Speaking of,” you interrupt his rambing, though you can’t help but feel validated by his fury. “What kind of tea is this? I was meaning to ask.”

“Hm?” Crowley stops his pacing. “Oh- earl gray. Why?”

“That must have been it.” You nod. “The tea Azul made didn’t taste quite right, but I think it was an English Breakfast. This one is way better.”

“Ah, well.” Crowley nods. “That’s l̷i̷k̷e̴l̵y̸ not the only reason. I have a secret ingredient.”

“Love?” Grim asks, woefully unimpressed.

“Heavens no, something important.”

“What is it?” You sit forward in your seat.

“Must I reiterate the term ‘secret’ for clarity?”

You slump in your seat. “Boo.”

“When you’re done at the table,” Crowley suggests, “why don’t you go run and have a bath?”

You stretch. “Works for me. I have way too much salt in my hair.”

“Crowley?” Grim pipes up abruptly. “When the heists are done, can Y/n stay here?”

You and Crowley freeze, equally taken aback.

“Sparky!” You hiss in horror, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you.

“What?”

“Can she-” Crowley blinks, then looks over at you. You shift under his stare and avert your eyes. He stills, then gives you a funny look that borders on melancholy. You can’t quite place his expression, but you can tell it’s nothing positive. Is it reluctance?

“You can stay,” Crowley tells you. You don’t feel great about his response- he had waited far too long. He had given his consent, but had he really meant it?

“Hear that, Henchhuman?” Grim whoops, sporting a toothy grin. “We can stay together now!”

Your heart swells at the little monster's words even as the bird-like man turns away and leaves.

Crowley supposes it doesn’t really matter in the end. In truth, he wouldn’t mind you staying if that was what you truly wanted.

However, he has to push those thoughts aside.

Maybe he can find you again and help you. Maybe he would happen upon Grim as well. But he needs to focus on his goal of the last ten years.

He can’t give up now, not when he’s so close. All his efforts, his sacrifices, his sycophancy will have been worth it.

Hopefully you can forgive him.

And Yensid can throw himself off a pirate ship.

***

“I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” Elson tries to smile sweetly, but it’s offset by the blaring rage wafting off of his accomplice. “Y/n is not a witch- in fact, I’m not even sure she has magic. Whatever you think she’s done, she can’t be responsible for it.”

“She broke into my room, took my bracelet, and disappeared before my eyes w̶̯̪̠̌͜i̵̧̧̜̽͝t̴̫̩̂ĥ̴͍̣̱̟̍̏͐ a giant furry…” Leona glances over at his skinny blonde friend for help, but only receives a shrug. “...mutated honey badger.”

“Oh…” You did what? Even the cloaked stranger stops insulting nearby guards for a minute upon hearing this. “...and you’re sure it was her?”

“Yes.” Leona rolls his eyes. “She was right in front of me.”

“And she is with a mutated honeybadger.”

“Or something.” The blonde rolls his eyes. The beefier one with the white hair and large ears rubs the back of his neck.

“So she’s gone,” The cloaked stranger whispers.

“No kiddin’.” Leona rolls his eyes. Elson’s heart goes still.

You’re gone. Again. And this time, you’re not alone. What if this creature you’re with has been created by Crowley to control you? Or to hurt you? Or to keep you away? His mind stews in the possibilities.

When he finds you, he will have to capture the creature. If it resists…

Elson’s expression hardens. He will keep you out of danger. Which is proving troubling, since you seem to attract it everywhere you go.

He’ll find you, and he’ll protect you. He’ll keep you safe. Be your very own Prince Charming, like in the stories.

“Let me see this.” The blonde grab’s Elson’s staff, making the Prince grit his teeth. That is a family heirloom, and this dunce is probably about to break it.

“Careful, Ruggie.” Leona warns. “We don’t know what that might do. And you’re not allowed to take the gems inside.”

Ruggie pouts. “Aww…”

Elson’s heart just about stops. That staff is priceless- he sincerely hopes it isn’t about to be ruined.

“If she’s gone, then why are you keeping us here?” The Cloaked Stranger interrogates. “What good does that do you? Us smelling like her could mean anything.”

“Are you doubting a lion’s sense of smell?” Leona rolls his eyes.

Wait.

Elson pauses. Did he just say lion? Elson looking closer, he takes note of Leona’s striking green eyes, dark mane of hair, and…

The men around him are all lanky and thin from malnourishment. Elson looks back at Leona- more specifically, the scar across his face.

…no!

No.

No?

No…

“You’re Scar!” The Cloaked Stranger gasps, gaping at the green eyed man.

Leona gives him an irritated look. “Wanna repeat what you just said?!”

Elson’s head is spinning. So Crowley is sending you into bizarre versions of classic tales where you encounter the villains in each. And you stole “Scar’s” bracelet…

Did Crowley just take you in as some kind of thief for hire?!

Did he LIE to the Kingdom? His Father? This was treason!- and you’ve been caught right in the center of it.

Oh, Elson is going to KILL that bird and all of his ugly creations, honey badger included.

He has to stop this- both as your friend, savior, prince charming, heir to the Kingdom, and possible future husband. Whatever Crowley is masterminding must be stopped before he gets everyone killed. Elson looks around for his staff (which Ruggie is strangely swaying from side to side, inspecting it and then looking at the wall of the cavern), as rage burns through his body. The Prince clenches his fists.

Leona raises an eyebrow. “Got something to say, Lover Boy?”

Elson spreads his fingers and releases a blast of ice across the cavern. The men who were holding him down are frozen stiff, along with any others who were unlucky enough to be in the direction of the blast. This includes the Cloaked Stranger.

The crowd backs away with a gasp as Elson stands, glaring at Leona. The lion kisses his teeth in annoyance.

“GET HIM!” The beastmen yell, and charge forward. Elson blasts at the ground and creates a platform of ice beneath his feet, shooting upwards. Any caution regarding his blot accumulation is thrown to the wind as fury takes over his body and mind.

“Prince Leona?” The buff wolfman calls, looking to see what his leader wants to do.

Leona narrows his eyes and scowls, noticing the black liquid ooze upwards into the sky. It smells like something rotten and looks like a dark abyss. He doesn’t need two brain cells to tell that that’s dangerous- that this Lover Boy is dangerous.

“Here.” Leona yells, yanking the staff out of the Ruggie’s grasp and tossing it to Elson. “Take it. Men, fall back.”

Elson looks at him suspiciously, but jumps down from his tower to grab it.

“Leona, what are you doing?” Ruggie hisses.

Leona scratches his head. “He was going to beat us, but at least now that inky stuff is gone. We still have a hostage, remember?”

“Huh?” The Cloaked Stranger yelps as a knife is suddenly held against his throat. He’s still unable to move due to the ice, left entirely to anyone else’s mercy. He looks at Elson. “Prince-”

“Save it.” Elson glares at him, straightening himself and holding up the crystal to the sunlight. The Stranger’s eyes grow wide.

“No… you need me!”

“No,” Elson shakes his head. “I don’t. I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it really hasn’t.”

“YOU ROYAL SCUMBAG!”

Elson doesn’t care. How can he, when you’re still in danger?

“Wait,” the wolf man yelps. “You’re just gonna leave him? What kind of teammate are you?”

“We were never a team.” Elson shrugs emotionlessly. “He was simply a means to an end.”

Then, the Prince steps into the light.

***

“I feel like a vampire.” You are currently wearing an oversized black button up shirt, black dress pants, and a long, black, feathered cloak around your shoulders.

“At least I didn’t get my clothes out of a garbage bin.”

“...touché. When will my actual clothes be ready?”

“Tomorrow. In the meantime, you should go get some rest.” Crowley advises. “I also heard Grim eagerly waiting to do a spelling lesson with you. How kind of you to teach him.”

“…I’m not the teacher.” You lower your head and avoid eye contact as you hurry past, half hoping he didn’t hear you. You don’t want his pity, and you certainly don’t want him to think less of you. Especially after that night in Azul’s restaurant, where you had laid awake debating whether you could trust Crowley or not.

Not after you realized something you hadn’t before- from back in the cavern with Leona and his followers.

You spy a rock nearby and without any time to think or plan (which you hate,) you jump. You’re only safe for a moment before the rock moves upwards unsteadily. You grip on for dear life, ignoring the pain that erupts from your arm.

Unconsciously, you touch the area that had been burned.

After you came back you had a panic attack, and woke up in your bed. Crowley must have carried you to it, and fixed the wound while you were asleep.

You can’t believe you hadn’t noticed. You were so caught up in everything else going on it had slipped your mind entirely until you were alone that night, alone with just your thoughts.

That’s when you realised you trusted Crowley. You couldn’t help it. That’s why especially now, you care what he thinks.

That’s why you want him to want you to stay. That’s why you want to prove yourself- so he won’t be reluctant to let you. You want him to like you, not for your own personal gain- but because you trust him.

And god, that scares you more than your words can describe.

***

“Your next item,” Crowley explains, “will be found in Aladdin. You will be looking for-”

“Please don’t say ț̴̨̖̣̻̤̜̬̾h̸̡͎͔̬̠̭̹̬͂͜ȩ̷͙͔͙̙͎͖̀̑͛̈́̐͠ ̵̘̞̋̂́͆̌̕͜l̸̡̝͇̉̈́̓͆̈́̾̇ä̷̮́͘m̸̨̥̟͙̃̑͝p̴̧̧̝̞̻͓̽͒̄.̴̧̰͚̩͎̪̳͇͊”̷̢̡̺̟̜̟̙̌̚͘̚͜ You cringe from your seat in the lounge.

Crowley merrily spreads his arms in celebration. “It is not the lamp!”

“Woo hoo!” Grim punches his paw in the air.

“It is the Staff of Will, owned by Jafar… or, I suppose whichever version of Jafar you encounter.”

You slump in your seat. “That’s somehow actually worse.”

“I daresay you are no stranger to the routine by now?” Crowley asks, putting his hands on his hips.

You nod and stand. “Yep! Sure do.”

“Excellent. And I have some more sunscreen and snacks for you!” Crowley waves his hand and your rucksack appears, which he promptly hands to you. “Now, make sure you apply it regularly. I don’t care if it’s cloudy, you will get burned.”

“Got it.” You sling the bag over your shoulder. “All set!”

“Oh, and remember your shawl. It has sun protection on it!”

“I will!” You call, one foot out the door.

“And one other thing about the mirror chamber!”

You turn around, still trying to edge down the hall.

“The Lion King mirror is full of blot.”

Your face pales as your heart drops. You had forgotten all about that.

“I-”

“Don’t apologize.” Crowley shakes his head. “I will take care of it.”

You nod and turn to go, halting in the doorway. He takes note of your apprehension.

“Yes?”

“Crowley?” You turn back around, fiddling with your necklace. “Do you think that maybe… this isn’t a good idea?”

He stares at you a moment before giving you a beaming smile. “My dear, this is all fine. You have nothing to worry about!”

“But the blot…” you fumble with the crystal. “Crowley, our entire foundation is-”

“The foundation of any Kingdom is its leader, not fairy tales.” Crowley tells you. “Do not worry about the ink, there’s a good chance it’s harmless.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, my dear.”

“Whaddya you even want this stuff for?” Grim inquires. “You gonna show ‘em off and make a ton of money or somethin’?”

“I need them for a job.” Crowley states. “Now, I wouldn’t want to hold you back from yours.”

“…okay then.” You turn to leave. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, my dear.” Crowley smiles, masking the growing adverse emotions inside. “Be safe. And don’t talk to any boys!”

***

You feel like you’re in the hot climate of the Lion King while facing the Little Mermaid’s risk of being scammed, and you are not fond of the combination.

“Henchhuman!” Grim screeches.

You look around and while you don’t spot him, you see a large urn rocking back and forth in danger of falling over.

You hurry pluck him out of the pot, scolding him. “How did you even end up in there?”

He looks at you tearfully. “I thought there was food.”

“Of course you did.”

“Hey, lady!” The vendor snaps. “What are you doin’ over there?”

“Oh!” You hold up Grim. “My pet fell in.”

“Hey!” Grim yells.

“It talks?” The man gasps, coming over. “What is it?”

“Uhhh…” you fumble. “It’s a… Grim! It’s the new pet frontier, you know!”

Grim sags. Not this again.

“Amazing!” The man smiles. “How much?”

“Oh,” you force a laugh and back away, and Grim’s head snaps up. “Come on.” The man leans forward. “I’ll give you anything you like, just name it!”

“No thanks.” You turn to leave. You start to walk away as the man yells after you.

“Hey, come back!” The man shouts as you pick up the pace. “Stop her! She was snooping around my stall by my urn!”

What is your thing with guards? You didn’t even make it five minutes this time!

Soon enough, four soldiers are running after you through the streets of Agrabah, this time for a crime you didn’t even commit. You try to keep one jump ahead of the guards, but the multitudes of people aren’t making it easy. You wind through the streets of the fabled bazaars, carrying Grim close to your chest.

Hopefully you can lose them in this crowd.

***

“We found one.”

“Who?”

“A girl with a large gray cat.” The Captain of the Guards explains. “We’re just heading after her now.”

“Good.” The Royal Vizier nods stoically. “Bring her to me.”

“Captain!” Another guard appears. “We need more men to help capture her- our best bet is to try and cut her off.”

“Why?” The Captain demands. “Are four men not enough to catch one girl?”

“We can’t catch up or predict any of her movements.” The guard explains. “She is clearly a master of evasive maneuvering.”

***

“Do you know where you’re going?” Grim asks as he crawls up to perch on your shoulder.

“Nope!” You pant as you sprint through the roads as quickly as you can. “Just not to get caught.”

The guards are still chasing after you, screaming a mix of profanities and pleas for you to stop. The sun beats down on you heavily, making the run even harder, but you push on. Your lungs beg you to stop, and your muscles are growing tired. Still, you can’t afford to slow down.

You take a sharp turn and run into an alleyway, only to slow to a halt.

Dead end.

You turn around in a panic, hoping you have enough distance ahead of the guards that your mistake will not cost you dearly.

Unfortunately, luck is not on your side. You practically run into the guard’s arms before you’re pushed to the ground.

“Henchhuman!” Grim looks between you and the guard.

“That was like, ten minutes.” You wheeze. “Gotta be my new record.”

“Ah!” Grim yelps as he’s picked up by the scruff of his neck by another guard. He flails in their hold, trying to swipe him with his claws.

You move to stand, hot rage searing through you. “Hey! Put him down!”

The guards don’t answer you, electing to hoist you up by pinning your arms behind your back and drag you through the city in a public display of humiliation instead. You glare at them angrily. They could at the very least throw you in a cart like people normally did! (You speak from experience.)

You take back those thoughts only a moment later when they shove a sack over your head. You’re left unaware of where you’re headed, which is far more dangerous.

You should have been more careful about what you wished for.

***

“Ow!” You’re unceremoniously dumped on hard floor after a while of being pulled along. You hear Grim squawk beside you, which in a way is comforting. You know you’re not separated.

The bag is suddenly ripped off your head, pulling your head upward before gravity has you slamming back onto the stone tile beneath you. You groan from the pain, and mutter out a quiet “ow.”

“So,” a velvety voice states, “you stole from a street vendor in the market. What’s your name, street rat?”

Your heart stops and you finally look up at your captor. It couldn’t be…

A hooded man stands before you, his striking gray eyes accentuated by carefully applied makeup. His long black hair falls past his waist, tied into numerous tiny braids and gathered into a ponytail. His sleeveless jacket reveals golden jewelry adorning his arms, including one piece that resembles a snake coiled twice around his bicep. In his hand, he holds a long golden staff shaped like a cobra, its ruby red eyes and fanged mouth giving it a menacing appearance.

It couldn’t be…

Is it?

Oh bother- you have to think fast. After all, if it is him, then there’s a good chance he’s about to throw Grim and you into the Cave of Wonders. Theoretically, this isn’t so bad. After all, you would hardly complain about getting a genie and magic carpet on your side, and six wishes between the two of you. Unfortunately, there is just one teensy little detail.

Only one may enter the cave- one whose worth lies deep within: the diamond in the rough. According to the tale, that person is Aladdin, and only him. Anyone else who tried to enter was swallowed alive, which meant that unfortunately, the diamond in the rough has already been predetermined.

And it is NOT you.

You can’t go in that cave, but you also aren't exactly partial to the notion of getting murdered in the next five minutes. You have to find a way to get him to keep you around- you need to make him think you’re useful. Make it so he can’t get rid of you.

You need a lie- a good one. And fast.

That’s when you got an idea.

An AWFUL idea.

You got a wonderful, awful idea.

But you don’t have time to think of another excuse, and the mermaid outfits won’t cut it this time.

“I know you!” You point at him with confidence you do not feel inside. “You’re the Sultan’s Grand Vizier!”

The man’s eyes narrow, and you don’t miss how one of them twitches.

“I am.” He comes closer, holding out his staff toward you. You force yourself not to look at it, fearing hypnosis. “And how would a street rat like you know this?”

You stare up at him proudly. “I can see the future.”

Grim watches on like he’s placing a silent bet on how quickly this will explode in your faces.

“You’re trying to get into the magic lamp.” You look straight into the man’s eyes. “Aren’t you?”

He sucks in a breath. “You can see the future?” The Vizier breathes. “So you know how to get to the lamp!”

Got him.

“Yep.” You pop the ‘p.’ “I do.”

“How?” He steps forward like he’s in a trance, completely consumed by his own greed and excitement. His eyes are locked on yours. “Tell me, and I will reward you with riches beyond your wildest dreams!”

“That does sound tempting.” You agree. “But I’d like something different.”

“What?” He snaps, desperation leaking into his voice. “Tell me! Whatever you want- jewels, perfumes, dresses, titles-”

“I want that staff,” you say, gesturing toward it. It’s eerie how the snake seems to be watching you, analyzing every word you speak, just like its owner.

The Vizier falters, eyes narrowing. “You want my staff.”

“Yes!” You nod. “After all, you will become the sultan yourself when you get the genie, right? What difference will a staff be to you if you already have all the power in the world?”

He stills, though your words seem to convince him.

“Fine.” He agrees. “I accept your deal. Now, tell me,” he leans in closer, “who is the diamond in the rough?”

“You will need to talk to the Sands of Time,” you explain. “Only then will their identity be revealed. I know only that they are street rat right now, though as the future nears the details will become clearer.”

“A street rat?” Jamil’s eyes narrow. “Of course.”

“Talk to the hands of time.” You urge. “I’m sure you know how.”

The Vizier stares at you for a moment. “What is your name?”

“Y/n.”

“And the cat’s?”

“He-mph!” Grim groans as you kick him.

“Sp-Grim.”

“You’re both coming with me.” He smiles. “I’m sure our partnership will prove most fruitful.”

You hold out your hand. “It had better.”

He smirks. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?”

You shake on it.

Chapter Text

DISCLAIMER: I haven’t yet had the honor of dining in an Arabic home, but I’ve done my best to reflect the customs as accurately as possible based on about an hour and a half of research- mostly reading a variety of articles online. If I’ve gotten anything wrong, please feel free to let me know so I can work on improving it. I did my best, even if I’m not fully satisfied with the result (and knew I’d only spiral if I kept tweaking it). I hope you enjoy the chapter all the same!

You don’t want to jinx it, but this might be the best start you’ve ever had in any story you’ve been part of. You made contact with the target on the very first day! You’re alive! Grim has so much food he probably won’t be run off for a while! You’re in the palace! Your literal job will be to ensure that the story stays on track! And if you do a good job, the Grand Vizier (whose name you have learnt is Jamil,) will hand over the staff willingly! Everything is fantastic!

Grim licks his plate, a look of contentment across his face. “Yum-my!”

“Glad you like it.” You smile, warmth slipping into your voice as you admire the content little monster. After bringing you to the palace, Jamil ordered a fresh set of clothes for you to wear. You are currently lounging on the bed in the room they gave you, the yasamina silk is soft against your skin. Despite its length you find it cool and combined with the comfort of the plush mattress you find yourself being lulled into a rare moment of peace.

So this is what it’s like to be rich…

There’s a knock at the door. “Jamil?”

You roll off the bed as Grim continues eating (did he just eat a rock?! Ew… Monster diets are weird, that’s for sure,) and open the door to a stranger.

“Sorry, Jamil’s not here. Can I take a message?”

The man’s eyes widen before and he offers you a shining smile bright enough to light a room. “All good! I was just wondering. Hey, you’re the new guest he brought here as his pupil, right?”

So that’s the cover story? You admire Jamil’s cleverness. It eliminates the need to invent some elaborate backstory that could fall apart, and it gives you both the perfect excuse to spend ample time together to scheme.

“Yep.” You nod, popping the ‘p.’ “Sure am. And you are?”

“I’m Kalim Al-Asim, the sultan!” He grins. “It’s nice to meet you- um…?”

“Y/n.” He’s the sultan? You see it, but you wouldn’t have come to that conclusion. Given the parrot feathers in his head wrap that he is looking for Jamil, you would have guessed the parrot- which is a bit depressing, considering your life has apparently reached the point where mistaking a bird for a man is a reasonable conclusion. Still, his white hair and large unassuming eyes certainly fit the character, even if he is years younger than the original.

…wait.

Your blood runs cold.

Just how ló̶̢̳͗̕ͅn̵̗̟͖͎̣̍̓g̵͎͍͍̼̈́̏͂̇͠ ̶̫͔̾͐̈́̽h̶̯̬͔̑͗̌̓̕͝a̶̡̧̨̟͍̜̓̕d̷̦̳̾̌ ̸̜̇̍͗̈́͆J̵̤͔͓̗͛a̷̩̘͔͎͂̋far been looking for that lamp?

Kalim barely looks older than you- there is no way he could have a teenage daughter. Not yet.

Oh no. Are you years in the past, long before the events of the story take place?

How are you supposed to find Aladdin if he’s just an infant?

Forget anything you said before, this is terrible, absolutely terrible.

“Are you okay?” Kalim asks, frowning with worry. “You look a little pale. Are you dehydrated?”

“I’m fine!” You breathe, beginning to hyperventilate. God, not now! This is the worst possible time. “I have to go now-”

“Do you need to sit down?” Kalim pushes the door open wider and lets himself in, warm hand on your back guiding you to a chair. You barely notice Grim, who is suddenly at your heels, waiting to jump into your lap until after you sit. His fluffy weight lands in your lap like a small furnace. Your breathing remains heavy as your heart races.

A moment later, Kalim is holding a glass of water is being held out to you. “Here.”

You reach out to take it, but your hands are trembling.

“Henchhuman!” Grim whines. “Calm down! It’s okay, the Great Grim is here!”

You clutch his fur and try to breathe. What was it Elson did the first time you ever had one? Five things you can see?

It takes a few minutes, but you’re able to bring yourself down from the brink of anxiety before you fall into a complete panic attack. You’re almost embarrassed by how shaky you feel now that you’ve steadied yourself.

“Great job!” Kalim cheers, more sincere than playful. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.” You avoid eye contact. You’re happy he left you alone and just let you calm yourself down, and you also understand why he stayed. That didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“Are you sure?” Kalim asks. “I could go get you some… calming tea? Or is it clamping tea? Anyway, it’s really good for stress, I promise!”

“I’m fine.” You insist. “Just stressed.”

“That’s okay!” Kalim assures you. “Moving into a new place can be scary.”

Yeah, especially when your host might try to kill you.

“It’s normal to feel overwhelmed! Just let either Jamil or I know if there’s anything we can do to make this transition easier, and we’ll do it!” He clenches his fist with enthusiasm and gives you a beaming smile.

Yeah, there is no way Kalim could be Iago. You’d be surprised if he has a bad bone in his body.

“I’ll remember that.” You nod. “Thank you.”

“No problem!” He grins. “Oh, you should join us for dinner tonight! Zahra would love to meet you!”

“...Zahra?” You look up.

“Yeah, my cousin!” Kalim explains. “She’s staying with us while she finds a suitor.”

It is like the heavens open up above you. Sure, you couldn’t tell exactly if it is the same person but since when have any of the twisted character’s names made sense anyway?

“I’d love to!” You smile softly. You could meet her and figure out if you need to find a swift exit from this story.

“Great!” Kalim exclaims, practically bouncing from excitement. Honestly, you’re flattered he seems to think so highly of you so quickly, but slightly put off by his naivete. “She’ll be so happy to make a new friend!”

***

Zahra is not, in fact, happy to make a new friend. All through the dinner her eyes bore into you like a blade, scrutinizing you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

Poor Kalim is trying so hard too to keep things amicable, but the tension is palpable. Even Grim looks uncomfortable, and he’s usually content to simply stuff his face with food.

“Y/n will be here to study under Jamil! Isn’t that great, Zahra?”

Her beautiful almond eyes narrow at you, lips pressed tightly together. “Yep. It’s great, Kalim.”

“Zahra just met a new suitor today.” Kalim tells you. “Though it didn’t go so well. She told him she likes to study maps, and he laughed her off. Do you like maps, Y/n?”

“I’ve never really gotten a chance to see any before.” You admit, and offer Zahra a smile. It’s not genuine, but it’s friendly. Hopeful. “Maybe you could show me sometime!”

“...maybe.”

“Zahra, Jamil will be showing Y/n lots of things! Will you show her maps, Jamil?”

Jamil takes a sip of his drink, voice flat and uninterested. “Perhaps.”

“You should! Then you could look at them together! Right, Zahra?”

“...right.”

You sink down in your seat. At the very least you are now sure this is this story’s equivalent of Jasmine- she’s looking for a suitor, curious about the outside world, and suspicious of anything associated with her version of Jafar. Unfortunately, by extension, this also means she has an innate distrust of you. You feel her eyes watching your form as you eat, critical and dubious. It’s clear she won’t be easily fooled- it might even be best for you to avoid her entirely if you can manage it.

The conversation continues mechanically, Kalim trying to create a connection that one side does not want to exist. You scoop up some more food off your plate and chew solemnly, the delicious flavour strangely muted by the awkward atmosphere at the table.

“Y/n, have some tea!” Kalim grins. You shake your head, remembering how disappointed you were the last time you had tea that wasn’t Crowley’s.

“No thank you.”

“I insist!”

“No thank you.”

Jamil cringes and Zahra raises her eyebrows in a way that tells you you did something wrong, even if you’re not sure what. The atmosphere grows quiet, and even Kalim seems at a loss on how to continue the conversation. What did you do? You finish your plate and leave, excusing yourself from a table of three silent stares.

“That was the worst dinner of my life.” You mutter, heading back to your room.

“But scrumptious!” Grim points out.

“Very scrumptious.” You agree. “But I think Zahra hates me.”

“She’s definitely not as welcoming as Erica.” Grim nods.

You practically collapse onto your bed when you get back to the room. “I just hope Aladdin- or whoever it is shows up soon. I was enjoying this at first, but now I just sort of want to leave.”

***

“Pass it over here!” A little boy with the excitement of a menagerie of startled birds. His friend kicks the ball high, sending it soaring high over their opponent’s heads. It smacks his teammate right in the face.

“WAAAAHHH!!!” The boy bursts into tears and falls backwards onto his bum. The other boys scramble around him, faces morphing into sheer panic.

One of King Yensid’s armour clad guards begins approaching them, heavy boots clacking against the cobblestones. The mere sound causes a wave of dread over the children, tears starting to well in the rest of their eyes.

“We’re sorry!” They wail, the Guard’s form towering over them. “I don’t wanna go to jail! It was an accident!”

“Ah, no.” The Guard awkwardly huffs, an amused smile playing on his lips. He bends down to the little boy on the ground and offers his hand. “Are you alright?”

The boy sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve. “Yeah… it hurt my nose.” He gives the guard a pitiful look, like the slightly red skin is an injury gained only through the strife of war.

“You got hit pretty hard there. Take it easy, but you should be fine,” t̸̛͙̃̚͜͜h̸̙̐e̴͈̻̮͘ ̵̙̘̃G̸̱̫͔͛̓u̴̜̅̌̏a̶͉͊̀͒r̵̬͋͋͘d̷͖̻̗̔̀͠ assures him, helping him up and patting his head.

The boy nods. “‘Kay.”

The Guard grins. “You’re a tough one, aren’t you?”

The boy shrugs as if he hadn’t just been sat on the ground in tears. “Yeah. I’m pretty strong. Watch this!” Without missing a beat, the boy flails his arms in the air, punching invisible enemies with his super awesome fighting moves. He looks up at the Guard expectantly.

The Guard nods serenely. “Very impressive.”

“Watch this!” Another one of the boys calls, and throws his leg in the air for an awkward kick.

“Wow.” The Guard tells him. “You’re very skilled.”

“Watch this!” Another boy pipes up, kicking his leg up with more energy than precision. He falls over with a thud, but isn’t put off. “Wait, I messed that up.” He scrambles to his feet and repeats the move (correctly this time) and looks to the Guard for validation.

“I was just teaching my troops that one the other day!” The guard smiles, bemused at their clumsy antics. “You’re very talented.”

The boy gives him a toothy grin and puffs out his chest. “Thanks!”

“I have to get going now,” the guard turns to leave, giving them all a wave. “Have a good night!”

“Bye Mister!” The kids wave back.

Ah, kids. The guard continues his patrol, mind encapsulated by the subject.

“Leave him for now,” Yensid decides. “If there’s trouble then the Prince is more than equipped to deal with it. If he has not appeared within a few more hours, report back to me.”

…he didn’t understand the King. He had spent all of last night lying awake about it, and his shift today was the same. So much has happened, yet the King continues to remain unconcerned. Is it a facade? Or does he truly have that much faith in the Prince’s skills?

The guard just wants to go home- just another thirty minutes and then he can leave. Though really, he knows that just leaving the premises will not stop his mind from reeling.

He just can not wrap his head around how the King could be so nonchalant about his son’s disappearance- though he supposes he doesn’t have the right to complain.

He swallows, trying to stuff down his guilt. He just couldn’t seem to forget the last time he saw that child’s eyes, wide and hopeful and happy. His chest tightens.

That was the very last time he ever saw them.

***

“The Grand Vizier requests your presence.”

You look up at the servant who has entered your chambers. To be honest, you’re surprised it took this long. You’re unsure whether or not you can leave your room without him, and you’ve been waiting all day.

“Can you take me to him?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” The woman bows, averting her eyes downwards. It feels strange- usually you’re the one in that position. The power isn’t as gratifying as you would have thought- in fact, it makes you uncomfortable.

“Oh.” You turn away. “Come on, Sparky.”

The servant raises an eyebrow at the small furry creature who bounds to your side, edging further away from him. “Right this way.”

You follow her through the halls of the palace, grateful someone is guiding you. Not even Erica’s palace was so large or so grand. The entirety of the Sultan’s palace spans from one end of the city to the other. You most certainly would have gotten lost by now without her.

“Right through here.” She stops at the bottom of a staircase, eyeing Grim wearily. You bow and thank her, earning you another odd look. Still, she says nothing, likely too afraid to talk back to someone she perceives to have a higher station. It makes you unsettled, though you can’t deny the irony. In actuality, you’re far lower than her- at least she’s employed.

Turning away, you ascend the stairs and begin the long climb up.

“I don’t like this.” You mutter to Grim as soon as you’re out of earshot.

He looks surprised. “Why? Isn’t this what you’ve always wished for?”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Jamil?” You call out when you arrive at the top of the stairs. “Are you up here?”

“There you are.” He scowls at you. “You took long enough.”

“You have a lot of stairs.”

“Come.” He walks over onto the balcony, the cool breeze ruffling his cloak. He gestures for you to take one of the nearby seats. overlooking the city below. “How long have you been on the streets for?’

“My whole life.”

“I could tell.” Jamil nods. “And so could everyone else.”

“Whaddya mean?” Grim asks, crossing his arms. Jamil looks down, seeming to have only just noticed him.

“Oh. You brought the actual street rat.”

“Hey!”

“That’s Grim.” You tell Jamil. “Say hi, Grim.”

He pouts, ears flattening. “Hey, Jamil.”

“As I was saying, your manners last night were terrible.”

“What?” Your eyes grow wide as your stomach drops. “What did I do?”

“You refused the tea.”

You blink. “But I didn’t want any?”

Jamil lets out a long sigh. “Tea is an act of hospitality. You practically announced to everyone in the room that the effort didn’t matter to you.”

You curse yourself, wincing. You hope you didn’t offend Kalim too badly! “I didn’t mean to offend anyone. Should I just agree?”

“Just take a small portion, even if you’re full.”

“Got it.” You nod. “Sorry.”

“You also finished your plate and left immediately.” Jamil scolds you.

“I was hungry!”

“It’s a clear sign of your poor upbringing.” He scoffs. “You basically just snubbed everyone else at the table.”

Your mind is reeling. “Then how will I ever leave?”

“Accept the tea.”

You wrinkle your nose, wondering if all your problems could really be solved with tea. “Okay…”

He lets out a long sigh. “If you’re staying here, you’ll need to learn how to navigate high society.”

“Wait,” you sit forwards. “Do you mean you’ll actually be teaching me stuff?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I did say you would be under my tutelage.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I can help!” Grim jumps in, and you already know what he’s going to say before the words leave his lips. “We can practice your reading and writing!”

You want to shrivel up on the spot.

“Yes,” Jamil says with a slow nod. “You’ll learn all of that. But first… this.” He extends his hand, revealing a golden bracelet. At its center, a flower-like symbol shimmers in shifting shades of green and blue- beautiful, but with weight.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “For me?!”

“Yes.” He nods. “You’re my student now, and wearing this will give you something of your own to wear as part of nobility.”

“Oh.” However, the gift’s intention is still somehow off putting. You can’t help but feel claimed. Jamil is undoubtedly attractive, but he frightens you. This gift isn’t from real care or affection- he is simply throwing gold at you to earn your loyalty. On anyone else, it might have worked. Most people from the lower class, man or woman, would undoubtedly walk on air after receiving such a precious gift from the handsome Vizier. Unfortunately, you see through it.

The gift sour in your mind but still not wanting to appear ungrateful, you take the bracelet and collapse it around your wrist. It’s a snug, perfect fit when it locks, like a cuff made just for you.

The thought is unsettling.

“What subjects will you be teaching me?” You ask, trying to rid your mind of such unwelcome thoughts.

“Sorcery is the main one.” Jamil tells you. “We should hone your capabilities- they will become most useful.”

You pu̶r̸s̸e̴ ̶y̷o̶ur lips. “Oh.” That should be fun to explore, seeing as I don’t have any.

Grim looks personally insulted, uneasy, and amused all at once. “You don’t say.”

“But you will also be taught reading, writing, calligraphy, etiquette, music, arts, history, and politics.”

“That’s a lot.” Grim states matter-of-factly, crossing his arms and looking up at the Vizier.

“She will become accustomed to it.” Jamil doesn’t say it to reassure- he says it with a certainty so firm, it lands like a warning. You swallow, trying to ignore the unspoken “or else.”

“Now, moving onto other matters.” Jamil walks back into the room and heads to an ornate cabinet. He opens a drawer and starts shuffling through the scrolls inside, searching for something in particular. “You said you saw me as the Sultan?”

“Yes, you will be the sultan.” You nod. For about thirty seconds.

“How?” Jamil asks obsessively, a sinister undertone leaking into his voice as he grabs a scroll and walks forward. “Is this before or after I get the genie?”

You blink. “...the future… It's a funny thing, really. Very interesting. I can definitely see you as the sultan… and I see you with the genie… could you be more specific?”

“What?” His dark aura dissipates as Jamil looks at you, flat and unamused. “Why?”

You’re momentarily taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour. Right now, he looks more like an overworked employee dealing with a difficult customer than the power obsessed villain he was seconds ago, yet it’s a welcome change. More… human.

“Well, you see…” You need a lie. You don’t have magic! Who’s mysterious and has magic?? Crowley? Crowley! What would Crowley say?

You fan your arms out dramatically. “Knowing the future is a most marvelous capability, as I’m sure you know. However, there is a certain confusion of knowing the unknown! Knowing too much of the unknown is not good- no, it’s perilous to know.”

“Fascinating, but can we circle back to the part where I get an actual answer?”

“Will you just listen?” You snap, putting your hands on your hips.

Grim gives you a look.

“Knowing everything about your fate is a bad thing,” you lie through your teeth. “Be more specific about what you wanna know.”

“Do I marry Zahra?”

“...you propose it, yes.” You nod, eyeing the scrolls in his hand. Jamil’s eyes widen, shining with pleasure. “And the sultan will not deny you. Is that what you’re planning to do now?”

“Yes.” Jamil grips the scroll tightly, holding it up and grinning at it as if it were a sword he pulled from stone, declaring him the true ruler of Agrabah. A wide deranged smile cuts across his face as he stares up at it. “She must be wed within two more days, and then I will be next in line for Sultan.”

“And she’s pretty, right?”

Jamil raises an eyebrow, face falling slack when he looks at you. “...I suppose.”

“What should I do in the meantime?” You ask, going to stand. But before you can get up, Jamil flicks his staff causing a stack of books, papers, and objects to appear, falling onto your lap and knocking you back into the seat. You gasp, hitting the chair with a quiet “oof.”

“Look through that and pick whatever you feel like learning first.” He waves his hand dismissively at the large pile resting on your lap, barely giving it a glance.

Curiously, you pick up a curious item off the top of the pile. It’s two bits of hollow wood or reed or some other natural material tied together with an array of holes down the length of it. “What’s this?”

“It’s called a mijwiz.” Jamil explains. “It’s a traditional instrument you will be learning to play. Do you have any experience with instruments?”

“No.” You hold it and inspect every angle, enthralled. How cool would you be if you learned to play something?

“The music sheets are in there.” Jamil tells you, turning for the exit. “The mijwiz is yours to keep. I will be back!”

“Where are you going?” You call over.

“To see the sultan.” He holds up the scroll and sends you a wicked smile. “I have a Princess to marry.”

After he leaves, you begin to shuffle through the pile of things on your lap. You pick each object up with fascination and excitement.

Grim jumps up, claiming Jamil’s seat as his own. “He sure seems serious about all this.”

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, examining the diagrams on a page. “At least we know the story is progressing as expected. Last night must have been when he met the street rat and tricked Zahra into thinking he had him beheaded. The only reason Jafar wanted to marry Jasmine in the first place was because he feared she would have him executed once she became queen.”

“True.” Grim nods. “But doesn’t that also mean we lost the lamp?”

“Yeah…” You grit your teeth and grimace, placing the mijwiz on the table beside you and beginning to sift through the papers on your lap. “Wonder why he never told us about that.”

Grim crosses his arms, expression going flat as his ears fall. “He probably thinks you already know.”

You pause. “Whoops. That might end up being a problem later down the line.”

“Wonder why he wasn’t mad about you not warning him à̵͜b̷͙̀̕ö̶̫͓́ü̶͙̳t̵̜̃ it?”

“He probably equated that to his own error. Everything we told him was correct, and as far as he’s aware we have no reason to lie.” You cringe after a moment. “But we probably could have warned him-”

“We?”

You shoot him a look, moving some papers gingerly to the floor. “I should have warned him, but I forgot about that part. Plus, I was under pressure.”

“You should have mentioned it.” Grim mutters. “We could’ve sped this whole shtick up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you remember it?”

Grim goes silent.

“Exactly. Though it’s still probably better this way. After all, this keeps the story semi-normal.”

“Why don’t we just go after that lamp instead?” Grim asks, crossing his arms. “That seems easier. Plus, we could get a buncha tuna!”

“That’s a last resort.” You tell him firmly. “The lamp is one of the main plot points of the entire story. If we don’t need it, we shouldn’t tamper with it. It can only screw things up.”

“I guess so.” Grim agrees, looking over the balcony. “By the way, I really don’t know what’s gotten into Crowley with all that blot stuff. Was he acting’ all strange to you too, before we left?”

Grim’s question is met with silence. Confused, he turns around to see if you heard. “Henchhuman?”

You’re frozen, eyes wide as you stare gaping at a paper on your lap. Grim calls out to you again.

“Henchhuman?”

No response.

There’s a rumble in the distance, catching Grim’s attention. Looking out, he sees a parade approaching in the distance. He gasps. “Henchhuman! The street rat is here! L̶͎̔o̵͒ͅö̷̢́k̸͕̿!̸͈͘”̴̺͑

Still nothing. Growing concerned, Grim hurries to you and climbs up, peeking over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at.

“...a music sheet? The song’s called ‘The Unheard Waltz.’”

“Maaaake waaaay! For Prince Aliiii!”

You move the pile off your lap and stand up, rushing inside to the nearest washroom. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Chapter Text

Just some interesting background: Silver on Quotev has commented: "The story of Aladdin is not originally Arabic. It actually has Persian roots, and although it was later included in One Thousand and One Nights, the tale itself originates from Persian folklore, not Arabic tradition. The story was told by Scheherazade, the legendary storyteller who narrates tales to the Sultan. Scheherazade, in order to save her life and prevent her execution, cleverly weaves fascinating stories each night, leaving them unfinished to ensure the Sultan’s curiosity and to delay her fate. Many of the stories within One Thousand and One Nights were later adapted into various cultures, but the story of Aladdin, while it became popular in the Arab world, has its origins in Persian traditions."

“She actually tried it?”

“Inconceivable!”

“I can’t believe it.”

“She’s gutsy.”

“Or stupid.”

“…probably that one.”

“(Y/n) (L/n)!” King Yensid VII bellowed, his voice echoing around the room. “You have been charged with trespassing, attempted larceny, impersonating a soldier, and high treason. How do you plead?”

The room was silent as they awaited your answer.

“Guilty.”

“The accused stands before you today. She has not only been charged with multiple offences, she was caught in the act. This alone should make this case truly conclusive.

“Will one of the soldiers present please describe how she was found?”

A dark-haired man with a handlebar moustache stepped forward. “When we found her, she was dressed in armour and was dancing in the-”

(14 Hours Ę̸͛a̸̬̐r̵͔̍l̷̘̉i̴͚̍e̷͇̅r̵͓̒)̷͙̌

Alarms scream through the air as you step into the chamber, boots striking the cold tile like gunshots. Your armor drags at your limbs- it’s useless now, just dead weight clanking with every breathless movement. You should be collapsing from exhaustion, but fear floods your veins, sharpening every nerve. Your heart hammers like a war drum. Minutes. That’s all you have to steal the King’s treasure—Yensid’s treasure—before they descend on you like wolves.

You skid to a halt before a towering monolith of steel—cold, seamless, and utterly unmoving. A labyrinth of glowing mechanisms pulses across its surface, casting harsh reflections that seem to mock you, calculating your failure. It stands untouched by time, immaculate despite centuries buried deep underground. You seize one of the iron spokes, fingers trembling, and yank with all your weight. It doesn’t budge.

You try again, fingers slipping, muscles straining, but the mechanism refuses to yield. Panic claws up your throat. You scream, raw and wordless, but the steel doesn’t care. Nothing does. You have to get in. You’re so close- so, so close- but the door might as well be a wall between worlds. Useless. It’s all useless if you can’t breach it. The guards already know you’re here. By now, the entire army is likely on it’s way, swords drawn at the ready, preparing to capture a h/c, e/c, girl.

Getting caught won’t just mean arrest this time; it’ll mean your death.

Something catches your eye- a mural etched in time, worn but unmistakably deliberate on one wall. At the base, painted figures twist and leap, mid-dance, their limbs stretched in wild, joyful arcs. Above them, five perfect lines repeat in rows, stretching the length of the wall like some ancient code. Symbols rest on the lines- curved, sharp, dotted, none of them familiar.

At the very start, a large looping mark curls like a ribbon caught in a breeze. It means nothing to you. None of it does. Your eyes dart from symbol to symbol, trying to make sense of the strange language. Dots, curves, slashes. What are they? A warning? Instructions? A key?

Footsteps?

You look at the lines along the tiled floor and back at the glowing steel.

Magic. Of course it is- it always seems to show up during the worst points of your life. But that would explain why you can’t open the door with sheer force- it likely required conditions to be met.

Did it want you to dance?

You hurry to the end of the room, look at the mural, and plan your first steps. You examine the way the characters painted on the wall are holding their arms and try to copy it, adjusting your posture before you take your first step.

What did the squiggly line mean- the one in the middle of the first set of lines? You squint at it. Maybe that had something to do with your arms…? No, that isn’t it. The last time you had seen a dance, which ironically, had been the last and only time you had knowingly interacted with anyone within the castle, it had been elegant and void of strange or jerky arm movements. Maybe you had to twirl? The dancers had certainly done a lot of that- you recall being mesmerized by the movement of each woman's skirt and the precision of every footstep.

You turn too fast. Your foot slips out of position, clumsy, rushed, and wrong. The echo of your misstep snaps through the room like a crack of thunder. The alarm screeches in your ears, pulsing through your skull, dragging your focus away.

You curse under your breath, heart hammering with frustration and fear. No time. No time. You stumble back to the end of the room, breath ragged, limbs trembling. You reset your stance, trying to steady yourself, to quiet everything- your panic, your thoughts, the relentless howl of sirens.

This time, you have to get it right.

You try again. You ̶f̸o̷r̸c̶e̴ ̶y̴o̷u̵r̷ body into position, eyes fixed on the dancers, mind scrambling to remember the pattern. But your breath is too fast, your hands too shaky. The fear is louder than the alarms now.

You take another wrong step, confidence shattered. You look at the ladies dancing in the mural: elegant, refined, beautiful. All that you could only ever hope to be… even in this moment, it’s clear.

You’re not one of them.

Panicking, you rush back to start, raising your arms to begin your dance.

Step, and turn, step, step, step…

“SEIZE HER!”

A hand clamps down on your shoulder—iron-strong, merciless. Before you can scream or twist away, you’re slammed to the ground, the breath punched from your lungs. Cold stone bites into your cheek. A knee drives into your back, pinning you like prey.

Your limbs thrash, but it’s useless. Metal gauntlets seize your wrists, yanking them behind you. The mural blurs through the tears stinging your eyes, the glowing door still sealed—so close, yet impossibly far.

Boots thud around you. Voices shout. Steel scrapes.

It’s over. You’re not a thief anymore. You’re a prisoner, and possibly a dead woman walking.

(PRESENT)

“Henchhuman!” Grim hugs your side as you bend over, releasing all of lunch’s delicious curry from your gut. “Henchhuman! Are you alright?”

You gag, sitting upright as cheerful music blares in from the balcony, a stark contrast to the ambiance of the washroom. “I’m fine.”

“Y/n…” Grim stomps angrily. “Stop saying that when you’re obviously not!”

You cup your hands in the basin and take a gulp of water, swishing it in your mouth and spitting it out into the sink. Grim hugs your calf tightly, like a child clinging to their mother.

“Y/n! What’s going on?”

You manage a weak smile. “You sound more distressed than I am.”

“Answer the question!”

You put the glass down and sigh, walking back to your seat. Grim immediately hops up on your lap, worried and confused.

“...are you sure you don’t wanna see the parade first?” You ask after a moment. “I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“Henchhuman!”

“Fine.” You grab the pale music sheet and wave it like a flag of surrender. “This is the trick to getting into the King’s Treasure.”

“...what?” Grim blinks.

“I was brought to Crowley after I tried to steal King Yensid’s treasure.” You explain. To be honest, you had forgotten he didn’t know. He had been with you since the start of your heists which felt like a forever ago, it didn’t even quite register that there was a before.

Grim’s eyes widen. “King Yensid’s treasure? Like, treasure room, or the treasure.”

“ The treasure, Grim.”

Grim gapes at you. “But that’s impossible!”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Because no one would ever think to bring their ukelele on a heist.”

“I don’t get it!” Grim shakes his head and rubs his face with his paws, reminding you of an otter. You have the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks. “How is that the trick?”

“I thought the music notes were footsteps, and was dancing when I was arrested.” You explain. “The trick to getting to the treasure is to play a magic tune to get into the room where it’s kept- that’s what unlocks the door.”

“That’s it?” Grim asks.

You nod. “That’s it. Plus you have to get there and stuff, but I would have made it if I had known… and could play.” You gaze over at the mijwiz as if in a trance, mind lost in thought.

“Well, now that you’re going to learn the mijwiz, are you going to try-?” 

“Oh, heck no.” You shake your head and laugh self deprecatingly, shooting the idea down before he could finish formulating the thought. “No way. Not a chance. Never again. Nun uh. I almost died last time, and it got me roped into all of this. Noooooo way in the underworld.”

“Oh.” Grim turns around and gazes down at the celebrating city from his spot on your lap, crossing his arms. “I guess it would have saved you a lot of problems, huh.”

“Yeah…” You agree. “It sure would.”

“Would you do anything differently?” Grim asks, turning back around to face you. “If you were to do the heist again?”

You think about it carefully for a moment. Would you?

After a moment, you shake your head. “...no.” 

“But you got caught!”

“Yeah, but it was for the best.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you poke his fluffy belly as the music stops and clapping erupts from the streets of Agrabah. “It led me to you.”

***

SLAM!

The door is shut with vibrato forceful enough to cause the papers on nearby desks to float gracefully to the floor as the person responsible for the disarray stomps across it.

“I see you liked the new Prince.” You remark, placing your fingers over the mijwiz’s holes experimentally and blowing. You’re happy when you are able to make a small ‘toot!’

“You…” Jamil jabs a finger in your direction and storms toward you. “You knew about this!”

“Only got the vision a couple minutes ago after seeing him on the elephant.” You lie, only looking up at him momentarily before turning your attention back to the pipe and blowing in again. Toot!

“What vision?” Jamil snaps.

“Do you want the one about how he is going to try and charm Zahra tonight on a magic carpet he got in the Cave of Wonders or the one where the Prince and the street rat are the same person?” Toot!

“What?" Jamil breathes, eyes widening.

Toooot!

Jamil watches you set down the mijwiz and look up at him expectantly, no longer concerned with the subject. Those were Jamil problems, and him getting angry is exactly what should happen for the plot. You have more important things to worry about- Y/n problems . “When are you going to teach me how to play?”

“Focus!” He snaps, swiping the instrument from your hands. “If this is true, then the very thing I have searched for for years is right under our-” he stops, noticing your large eyes and crestfallen expression. Reluctantly, he hands you back the mijwiz. “Here.”

“Yay!” You take it back excitedly, immediately placing your fingers back over the holes and giving it a puff. Toot!

Jamil looks like he wants to throw himself off the balcony.

“As I was saying,” he straightens his clothes and gives you a look. “The lamp could be under our very noses. And that Prince Ali of Abooboo-”

Grim lifts his head up from the spot in the sun he’s resting in. “Ababwa.”

“Whatever.” Jamil waves his hand. “He’s a sham.”

“Yep.” You pop the ‘p.’

“Luckily, it seems Zahra can’t stand him.” Jamil sits down in the chair across from you, twirling the staff in his hand. “The future is all but secured.”

You hum doubtfully. “Just wait until tonight…”

“What happens tonight?”

“Well,” you nod your head from side to side while you think. “Prince Ali… he’s very…”

“Punctual?” Grim calls over.

You grin. “...actually, that kind of works.”

“Punctual.” Jamil repeats dryly.

“And smart.” You add on. “And fun, and…”

“Pretty?” Grim calls over.

You nod quickly, making Jamil deadpan. “Beautiful! He’s got the̸s̷e̷ ̸e̶y̴e̴s, and this hair-”

“I asked to know what happens, not what will be written on your future restraining order.”

Grim cackles.

“Hey!” You fumble, cheeks burning red as your nostalgic recital backfires. “I’m just admiring someone from a distance! Besides, at least I can admire something other than the sound of my own voice!”

Jamil smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Does that mean you like the sound of my voice?”

You splutter. He laughs. 

“So what now?” Grim calls out. “Do we stop Ala- I mean, the street rat from meeting Zahra?”

Jamil purses his lips. “No.”

“What?” You raise your eyebrows in surprise. You’d been ready to launch into a whole speech about how he couldn’t afford to disrupt their meeting—how the street rat would keep the lamp on him the entire time, making it too risky. But apparently, you didn’t need to bother. Honestly, you wouldn’t have even shared this much if staying “useful” wasn’t still a necessity.

“No,” Jamil shakes his head. “I have a better plan.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Which is?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Jamil waves you off in a manner that makes you think this is very much something you have to worry about. “Now, what would you like to start off with? Music?”

You’re still uncertain, but it’s clear he isn’t going to talk—at least not now. Maybe it’s time to start your own investigation… though for the moment, your hands are tied. You raise the mijwiz to your mouth in response.

Toot!

***

“Can’t this backfire?” Grim asks, watching as you bundle yourself up in cloth and head for the balcony.

“Oh, definitely.” You nod. “But we need to see what Jamil is up to. Why wouldn’t he want to catch Ali sooner rather than later? It makes no sense!”

“I meant the guards, Henchhuman.” Grim deadpans. “You’ve already gotten caught by them once.”

“Pssh.” You wave your hand. “It’ll be fine. Besides, how good can this security really be if the princess was able to escape and meet a street rat in the first place?”

“I guess…” Grim crosses his arms as his ears fall back. “Are ya’ sure about this?”

“Nope!” You pull the hood over your head and go to the window. “But it’s our best shot.”

“You’re gonna be okay, right?” Grim worries.

“Fine!” You stick your head out the window and look around, noticing ornate inlay nearby that will provide perfect hand and footholds. “This is what I’m used to doing, Grim. It’s hundreds of feet higher , sure, but it’s still the same thing.” You make the mistake of looking down. “On second thought…”

“Why don’t you just start somewhere else?” Grim asks, running up beside you. 

“It’s a visual thing too, Grim. I can be sure nobody will see me on the roof, but I can still see everyone. I don't have that same kind of security inside. Besides, the roof is safe! It’s just…” You glance upwards and gulp. “Getting there.”

“Maybe we should just-”

“Grim,” you sigh. “Like it or not, Jamil might be the most dangerous villain we’ve come across yet. He has the same mood swings as Riddle, intelligence as Leona, and charm as Azul. He could be plotting our deaths right now and we would have no idea, and that’s exactly why we have to check. Right now, we should have the most control and the least interference out of any tales we’ve been in- so why is Jamil acting strangely?”

Grim raises his paws in fear and his eyes grow wide. “Myah! You think it’s that bad?”

“Don’t let the gold and the silks fool you, Sparky.” You sigh, fiddling with your necklace. “It’s all just a distraction. It’s exactly the same up here as it is down there.” You jut your head toward Agrabah.

Grim holds up a paw. “But with better food.”

You smile and rub his head. “Yes Sparky, but with better food.”

“Fine.” Grim pouts. “But you’d better be careful.”

You take a deep breath and vow not to look down. Why did you have to make some grand, heroic, and wise speech? Now you practically have to do this! God, being the hero sucks! You sort of miss being a small-time villain, where there is a whole lot less pressure, anxiety, and hundred foot drops.

But are you really a hero though? A voice in your head whispers. Or are you just Crowley’s naive puppet?

You shake those thoughts aside as your heart clenches. Now is really not the time!

“Be safe.” Grim whimpers, and you throw on a smile to reassure him (though you fail to fool yourself.)

“I will, Sparky. Just remember, do-”

“Don’t open the door to strangers, stay inside, and don’t run to the kitchen. You’re in the bath if anybody asks, and keep an eye out for any flying carpets.”

You nod. “Good.” 

You remove your hand from your necklace and reach for the inlay, grabbing hold of a flower. You test it a few times, easing your weight onto it to be sure it’ll hold. It does. You’re unsurprised- wealthy estates almost always have solid construction. Then, you place your foot on something else jutting out below you (an elephant’s trunk?) and begin to scale the wall.

You’re terrified the whole way up, but strangely, you’re also the calmest you’ve been in hours. You’ve always found climbing soothing. It clears your mind. Even now, with danger pressing in from every side, your thoughts are quiet. There’s only one goal: reach the top.

Once you push past the fear of the height, your body takes over. This is familiar. This you know how to do.

It’s like a puzzle, in a sense. You have to think about where to put each foot or hand, pulling yourself up a step higher.

It’s almost fun. All your worries disappear, and you’re not concerned about your past, the objects, the villains, the heists, your future. Your mind is focused on the present moment.

The sun sinks behind you, casting long shadows across the world below. Its fading light spills over the stone, washing the walls in molten gold. Every surface glows warm and radiant, as if the palace itself has caught fire. As you climb higher, the wind brushes against your skin, carrying the scent of dust and sun-baked stone. The sky deepens into amber and rose, and for a moment, the world feels suspended- quiet, glowing, endless.

You like the control. You like the stillness. You like the focus. You enjoy the game. And when you finally reach the roof and pull yourself up, you stand and look out over all of Agrabah, knowing you got here all by yourself.

You almost laugh, smiling at the sight. If you had told you years ago that you would be scaling palaces, travelling with friends, outsmarting villains, and seeing the sights, you would never have believed yourself.

But here you are. On top of the world.

You turn away from the stunning view as the sun fades behind the horizon and the quiet moon rises to watch your shadowed pursuits.

Time to focus.

You run along the rooftop, eyes flitting about for any sign of movement. Your footsteps are quieter than most would have ever thought possible, honed through years of steady practice. You are the desert wind, slipping through the palace’s fingers like sand through an hourglass.

You hear a laugh and immediately pivot, falling into the shadow of a tower and raising your arm to shield what’s visible of your face. You watch as a carpet flies by overhead, soaring through the Arabian night like a comet. You can barely make out whispers of conversation as they fly past, but it doesn’t matter.

You follow the carpet’s direction, running unnoticed behind it. Soon enough you’re overtop of the infamous balcony, crouching so you can’t be seen from below. You listen, and you wait.

“Lady Zahra?” The man’s voice calls out curiously.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Prince Ali!” The man jumps down and clears his throat nervously, deepening his voice. “Prince Ali! Ababwa!”

You hold in your snort.

“I do not want to see you.”

“Wait please! Lady Zahra! Give me a chance!” Ali tries, but is interrupted by a growl. Your heart stops.

Is that a tiger? Zahra really has a tiger. She BROUGHT a TIGER to visit her cousin??? At least your little monster cat is travel sized!!!!

Oh good god, if that tiger catches you you’re so screwed. 

“Just leave me alone!” Zahra demands as her tiger paces toward Ali, who is cowering on the railing and trying to shake the large cat away with his hat.

“Wait!” Zahra races forward, much to Ali (and the tiger’s) surprise. “Wait! Do I… know you?”

See, Jamil? You think to yourself. People should listen to me more often.

“Uh…” Ali fixes his hat and jumps off the balcony’s rail once the tiger has meandered over to his human for pets. It reminds you of Grim, in a way. “No! No!”

“You remind me one someone I met in the marketplace.” Zahra remarks, tilting her head to analyze him further. 

She’s far too smart for him—for most of the characters, really. You admit, reluctantly, that the only one who might match her intellectually is Jamil… though even that feels off. She has no interest in marriage, especially not to him.

Still, you’re actively working against that outcome. And honestly, Jamil would be much easier to take down without his staff. Really, you’re doing a better job that Ali in the hero department.

Though, this story’s version of Jafar definitely seems less creepy. He’s much closer to her age, and actually seems to have very little interest in her beyond her title.

Though that might actually be worse for Zahra. She’d definitely be easier to dispose of without any emotional ties.

“Th̸͉̮̜̾ë̸̩͈̱͈̈̇ ̷͓̻́̇̍͘m̸̢̘̱͛̊ǎ̷̼͕͝͝r̶̨͎̼̃̈́̈́k̸͖͔̉͘e̸͔͖̥̓̃ṯ̵̻͇̫̽́́̕p̵̪̭̏̂̿l̷͙̼̺̔a̶͙͐̾c̶̗̄́̾e?” Ali forces a laugh. “I have servants who go to the marketplace for me."

A lie.

“Why, I even have servants who go to the marketplace for my servants!”

Another lie, and Zahra looks even less impressed. If she didn’t inherently hate you, you would have tried to befriend her in a heartbeat. Even the tiger is looking at Ali like he wants the him to shut up.

“So it couldn’t have been me in there!” Ali looks at her over his shoulder from what you guess is supposed to be a suave position leaning against the balcony, but it just looks awkward.

“No,” Zahra sighs and slumps against the tiger. “I guess not…”

“What are you doing?” A new voice cuts in from behind you. You jump and whirl around in a panic, heart rate spiking further when you see familiar gray eyes behind you. Jamil.

“I… uh-”

“Rabi?” Zahra’s voice rings out. “What are you looking at?”

Oh bother. You don’t need to be an oracle to know that the cat is probably looking in your direction like you’re a snack on the highest shelf. Without thinking you grab Jamil by the hand and yank him down out of view, urgent and quick. He lands half on top of you, half beside you, and faces far too close.

“What are you-”

“Get off me!”

“You pulled me down, idiot!”

“Just move, or I will start receiving my tween romantic poetry!”

Jamil shuffles off of you as the conversation continues below. “You started off obsessive young, did you?”

“No!” You’re only technically in this position because you kissed HIM. “Shut up!”

“So what is this?” Jamil hisses back at you. “A voyeur fantasy of yours?”

“Would you shut it?” You bite back. “And what are you doing here? You say I’m the one who’s got a restraining order, but you didn’t just arrive here on your nightly walk!”

“Well, I thought I’d come give you a headache in person.” Jamil drawls. “And also see what you’re doing on the roof dressed up like you’re a mummy in mourning.”

“Hey!”

“Do you even know how to put that on right?”

“I improvised! How did you even know I was here?” You hiss at him and glance down at the balcony, only to find it deserted (save for a very pissed off looking tiger, sat on the ground below you and holding an expression far too judgemental for a cat.) “Wait, they’re gone.”

“Just like you said they would be.”

“Why didn’t you stop them?” You whirl around. Jamil sits back, resting an outstretched arm on his bent knee while the other holds up his weight.

“Was that your plan?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “You were going to stop them?”

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “This was the perfect opportunity!”

Jamil looks surprised for a moment, but his face falls back into a practiced mask of indifference. “I didn’t get this far by moving into things irrationally. Come with me.” 

He stands and holds out a hand for you to take. You eye him suspiciously. What is going on inside his head?

He rolls his eyes at you. “Do you trust me?”

No. But right now in this particular moment, you have no reason not to.

You take his hand, and he pulls you up.

***

“I can’t believe this!” Kalim’s face scrunches up in anger and he clenches his fist. On Jamil, such an expression would have been terrifying. On Kalim, it is unfortunately rather adorable. “How dare he! You said Zahra could be put in danger?”

“That’s right.” Jamil nods sagely. “Y/n saw it too, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” You nod. “In one of my visions. That’s why I went and found Jamil… but-”

“But what?” Kalim collapses both your hands in his, pushing his face closer to yours and looking at you desperately. “Tell me!”

“I just…” You look away. “If this is all just some false alarm, I feel awful worrying you all.”

“No!” Kalim shakes his head furiously. “Don’t feel bad! You did the right thing. Here, have some crackers!”

You have no time to respond before crackers are quite literally shoved in your mouth , forcing you to chew as Jamil wacks the Sultan on the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“Kalim, you can’t just stuff food in people’s faces.”

“Oh. Sorry!”

You still can’t talk, so you just send him a thumbs up. Kalim beams.

“Sultan, as your Grand Vizier, I feel like I should speak up about this.” Jamil looks at Kalim, who gives his friend his full attention. “I do not have a good feeling about this Prince Ali. It is one thing to woo her, it is another thing entirely to take her away from the palace with absolutely no guards, explanation, or notice. This whole thing is entirely thoughtless and disrespectful. We at least know from Y/n’s visions that he meant no harm, but regardless of his intentions, he could have sent the entire city into full lockdown for his carelessness.”

“And we still can’t be sure she’s safe.” You pipe up now that your mouth is free, walking over and grabbing Kalim’s hand. “I know you don’t know me very well and you have no reason to trust me, but I’m not sure this Prince, as charming and as fun as he may be, is suited to be a good husband or future lord.”

Kalim pauses before slowly nodding, thoughtful and downcast. “You’re… right. It saddens me because he is the only suitor Zahra has liked so far, but her safety is what’s most important.”

“We can speak more in the morning.” Jamil nods, putting his hands on Kalim’s shoulders and guiding him away from you. “But right now you should go rest- I’ll focus on-”

“Your Highness!” A guard runs in. “Lady Zahra and Prince Ali have returned!”

A very pissed off Zahra comes storming in behind him, her eyes snapping over to you. You offer her an awkward yet friendly wave. She sneers at you.

Rude, but probably deserved.

“Oh, there you are! I was waiting for you.” Kalim goes running over and tackles his cousin in a hug. “You made us so worried!”

“Sorry, Kalim.” She apologises softly before her eyes snap over to you and Jamil. “But you two have no right meddling in my life!”

“They were just worried!” Kalim defends you. “You can’t go running off! It’s dangerous!”

“I know! But Prince Ali kept me safe! Kalim, I really think that he could be the one!”

“About that,” Jamil steps in. “We’ve been talking, and we’ve decided that a royal party boy might not be the best husband.”

“What?” She gasps. “But all you’ve been saying for the last months is that you want me to find someone! Now that I have, you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“Zahra, you’re pretty and intelligent.” Kalim argues. “You deserve someone good enough for you.”

“And who are you to say he’s not?”

“You were found missing from your bedchambers with no notice or forewarning of any kind.” Jamil deadpans. “If not for Y/n assuring us you had not been kidnapped, we would have had to launch a state of national emergency. All trade would have been halted and no one would have been allowed in or out of Agrabah. The streets would have immediately been searched, disrupting the lives of our citizens. The palace would have been under arrest out of concern for the Sultan- your cousin’s, life. Need I go on? Lady Zahra, you’re smart enough to realise what a big deal this could have been.”

“But I’m just one person!” Zahra argues, taking a step toward Jamil.

“Precisely. Are you willing to have all those lives affected due to one night’s careless behavior?”

“Then blame me!” The Princess protests. “Why are you punishing him?”

“Whose idea was this?” Jamil asks, making her falter. “And just for the record, I do plan punishing you as well, so watch your tongue.”

“I’m sorry.” You glance at your feet, beginning to feel genuinely guilty now. Ali really is Zahra’s true love, and the carpet scene was supposed to be emotional and tender. Romantic. “I feel like this is all my fault.”

“No!” Kalim steps forward, shaking his head. “None of this is your fault! In fact, I think you should be rewarded!”

“Me?” You blink.

Jamil smiles and nods. “I quite agree. I believe a celebration is in order.”

“Tomorrow I’ll organise a parade and feast in your honour.”

You raise your hands up and take a step back. “Thank you, but-”

“It’ll be a fun and happy celebration!” Kalim rambles. “With elephants and parrots and-”

“You really don’t have to do that.” You smile nervously.

“Nonsense!” Kalim smiles earnestly, taking your hands in his. The shine from his smile is blinding. “After everything you've done for me, I owe it to you not to let you down!”

You force a smile. Would it be rude to continue refusing? “Then I’ll look forward to it.”

“Great!” Kalim ounches the air. “You won’t regret it.”

“Captain, see my pupil off to bed.” Jamil waves the guard over. “Have a good night, Y/n.”

“Goodnight!” Kalim waves, beaming.

“Goodnight, everyone.” You wave and walk to the door, not missing the glare Zahra sends you as you pass.

***

“How are you faring?” Jade asks, drifting closer to the cecaelia. His boss doesn’t look up from the book in his hands, most of his tentacles grabbing vials off sh̸e̶l̸v̶e̸s̵ ̷a̶n̵d̷ pouring them into the cauldron as yet another tentacle stirs the mixture gently.

“Well.” Azul’s eyes continue to scan the page, but the hint of a self assured smirk plays on his lips. “I have almost finished the potion.”

“How’s it gonna work?” The more abrasive of the eels asks, swimming closer and looking into the pot. “What would drinking it do?”

“We’re not drinking it.” Azul explains with a sigh. “We’re pouring it.”

“Huh?”

“Floyd,” Jade sighs. “Were you not listening when we went over this earlier?”

“Nah.” Floyd shakes his head with a grin. “I was thinking about how cute all the little shrimpies looked. Just like Y/n!”

Azul groans. “Then you can remain in the dark. I’m not repeating myself again!”

“Aw.” Floyd whines. “You’re no fun.”

Jade shakes his head in amusement. His brother always was entertaining, but you are far easier on the eyes. He still finds himself frequently thinking back to that night in the kitchen, just the two of you.

“Only one more night.” You try to restart the conversation. He’s silent for a moment as he scrubs a plate.

“It doesn’t have to be.” 

What would have happened if you agreed?

Jade muses upon it dreamily. You are adorable, honestly. Always so bashful when you’re embarrassed, but so confident when in your element. Your wit is charming, both in its hilarity and snideness. He has a feeling you can talk circles around people, and it’s enthralling.

You would be a perfect addition to their group. You have the diligence to be good at your job and the cleverness to truly excel. Your watchful e/c eyes, your tongue made of silver…

He wonders how it would taste.

The same thoughts would keep him up at night, every night since you had arrived. He kept imagining a kiss, not a peck in passing but one slow and deep and deliberate. He imagines your lips brushing against his like a secret- warm, lingering, just shy of permission. You’d smile against his mouth, teasing, like you knew exactly what he was thinking and wasn’t above making him work for it.

He pictures the flicker of challenge in her eyes—how she might lean in slowly, not because she was drawn to him, but because she wanted to see if he’d flinch. Or falter. Or fall.

He suspects he would.

But then- what if you didn’t?

What if, for once, you didn’t try to win? What if you leaned into him soft and uncertain, your clever mouth gone quiet, your sharpness dulled by want? What if you let herself need, let yourself be kissed, willing and pliant and a little breathless, like you’d waited far too long for it?

He pictures the flicker of challenge in your eyes dimming into something softer. How you might lean in slowly, not to test him, but to trust him.

He’s sure he’d fall all the same.

You are a clever little minx, and one he can’t get enough of. It fascinates him- you fascinate him. You are sharp where others are dull, reckless where others are cautious, yet below that mischief he sees your brilliance. He knew it from the moment he first saw you, and saw the gears turning in your head when he approached.

Always turning.

He would remain composed, of course. Always composed. But as he sits in that grotto watching Azul chide a whining Floyd, hands folded on his lap, he smiles to himself.

He can’t wait to see you again and collect his dues (you still burned down a building. Do you KNOW how expensive that’s being to replace????) and more importantly, watch the way your mouth twists while you’re lying to him.

That tiny pause. That flicker of amusement behind your eyes like you’re daring him to call your bluff. It’s infuriating. It’s irresistible.

You owe him money. You owe him answers. And yet, all he can think about is the way your voice softens when you’re trying to distract him, the way you lean in like you might kiss him just to keep him from asking the real questions.

He really should be angry.

Instead, he's looking forward to it.

Chapter Text

“The pipes are playing two different sounds!” You whine, looking over at Jamil with large, pleading eyes. He glances at you from his cauldron and feels that strange, fluttery feeling in his chest that he’s had since he met you. 

He throws in more black seed.

“Does it sound good with all the holes open?” He calls, looking away and stirring the brew. A moment later, he hears a dissonant toot!

“No…”

He sighs and walks over to your chair on the balcony, kneeling down beside you and taking the mijwiz from your hands. He pulls at one of the reeds gently, adjusting it to be slightly longer than the other. “Now try.”

You blow again, a far more harmonious toot! coming out. You smile at him, excited. Pleased. Happy . “Thanks!”

You go back to practicing a very basic song, slowly making your way through the notes on your sheet. Earlier, he helped you write your name (though you apparently had a handle on the alphabet thanks to Grim) and you practiced reading some poetry. It was surprising how little you knew, but understandable. Your enthusiasm for learning is highly admirable.

Noticing your interest in the mijwiz, he had explained how each of the letters aligned on the music sheet. You spent most of the afternoon practicing how to read music, tapping your foot along to the beat. Once̴̬̚ ̷̜̚ḧ̶̨́ḙ̷̏ ̸͉̿d̵̻̒e̵̢͑c̷̡͆ḯ̷̦ď̷̹e̴͈͗d you understood enough to try with the instrument, he left you to experiment while he brewed his elixir. You seemed to prefer it that way—being given the chance to figure things out on your own. Your fingering is clumsy, but you’re determined. And clever, too.

More blackseed.

“What are you making?” Your call out. Jamil doesn’t bother turning to look at you, though he knows your eyes are on him. The thought makes him tense.

Chamomile. He needs to add chamomile. 

“A medicine.” He responds. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, worry lacing your tone. His heartbeat quickens.

Jamil raises an eyebrow and turns to meet your eyes briefly. “Are you sick?”

“No?”

“Then I’m sure.”

Toooot!

Jamil’s very first memory as a child was seeing his family bow before Kalim and his parents. He couldn’t stand the sight of it. Kalim’s parents were far more important than his and therefore, far more important than him.

He had grown up with Kalim, always aware of the gap between them. He was never able to do better than the future Sultan, whether that be in studies, exercise, or games. To remain beneath him, Jamil spent years feigning incompetence.

It was torture. What could be more maddening than being held back, watching someone else rise- just because you were never given the chance? Kalim never beat Jamil, he was just allowed to win.

And that stupid, sunny smile everyone loves? Not a single care behind it. That fool has no clue.

Everyone told him the same thing: “surely you’re smart enough to understand.” 

But who was trying to understand HIM?

Kalim’s mere existence means that Jamil has to live his life deferring everything to him.

Why couldn’t he be number one, too? Why must he dull his light just to let another shine? Why did nobody see his suffering? His mind? His capabilities

Toot!

His heart flutters. God, he needs to take the medicine soon. He strains the liquid into a cup and takes a sip.

You are like him in so many ways. Brilliant, but never truly getting the chance to shine. Unlike everyone else he’s ever met, you understood.

You had been on that rooftop last night because you didn’t know why he wasn’t. It was reckless, but he was sure you had a plan. He hadn’t ever had someone do anything like that for him before. No one in his corner.

It was a lonely existence, always being the one standing against the wall in a room full of happy faces.

He takes a sip from the glass and watches you.

Toot!

He smiles. You are getting the hang of it- he’s glad he picked something out that you’re enjoying. 

He would become the Sultan, and the most powerful man in Agrabah. He would finally have the light he needs to grow and blossom.

But what about you?

He narrows his eyes. Why do you need his staff? It’s an odd request

But deep down, he knows, simply because you are both so alike.

For some reason he doesn’t understand, you think his staff is an out- a path to a better future. A chance to escape something that is holding you down.

…this medicine doesn’t seem to be doing much. He doesn’t understand. His heart has been beating faster than normal, he’s sweating more, his muscles tense, his chest hurts, stomach flips, all these sudden symptoms that have been plaguing him for the past couple of days since you arrived-

Jamil almost chokes on his medicine.

Did he…?

Toot!

His heart flutters.

…ohhhh no. No, no no. That complicates everything far more than he ever intended.

And he has to marry Zahra? The thought alone makes his stomach churn.

Well, in all fairness,  she’s more of a bother than a real obstacle- easy enough to get rid of. But what then?

You wanted to learn and grow- that much is clear. You want to become something, and you definitely have all the skills to do it.

He could help you with whatever you wished. He can give you all the perfumes and dresses, books and maps, mijwizes and curry you could ever want.

Maybe you could grow together?

He could hold you tight as you rise toward the heavens together.

Or, alternatively, he could back your reign of darkness if that is what you desire.

He would be there, ready to support you just as you do for him.

Isn’t that the perfect partnership?

Jamil sets down his drink.

***

“Hey!” Kalim waves, startling all the room’s inhabitants. Grim pokes his head in from the balcony.

Is this it, you wonder? Is Kalim about to arrest Jamil for treason? After all, the sultan doesn’t think twice in the original.

“Kalim!” Jamil clears his throat in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to Y/n.” Kalim grins.

“What, me?” You sit up in surprise. “Why?”

Jamil steps in front of Kalim. “Yes, why.”

“I need to discuss the preparations of the parade with her.”

“Can’t you handle that?” Jamil asks, weirdly annoyed. Had something happened between them after you left last night?

“I want to make sure it’s perfect!” Kalim beams, smile blinding. You swear you can see the remnants of a halo just above his head.

“Are you sure?” You stand up, holding the mijwiz against you. He’s supposed to talk with the “Prince” and get Jamil arrested. “I sense somebody is looking for you.”

Kalim laughs. “You are good! But I already talked to Ali, and I don’t think he will be returning any time soon.”

“What?” Jamil asks, grin widening.

“What?” You question, eyes widening. Kalim banished him? Kalim? What about the lamp?!

“What?” Grim hurries over, jaw dropping.

“Yeah,” Kalim nods before pouting angrily. “He tried accusing Jamil of murder! Can you believe it?”

“How preposterous.” Jamil shakes his head.

“Wow…” Grim wheezes.

“Yes.” You blink, aghast.

Kalim laughs. “Because you foresaw it, right Y/n?”

You sag. “Yes.”

“Anyways, come on Y/n! I have so much to show you!” Kalim reaches out, aiming for your arm. You resign yourself to being dragged about the palace for the rest of the day by an excitable puppy- just when you were beginning to tolerate cats, too.

“Wait!” Jamil grabs his arm before Kalim reaches you. “Is this really necessary? She’s in the middle of her lessons, and-”

“Nonsense!” Kalim grabs your hand and tugs you over to the door. “Everybody needs a break!”

“Wait!”

“We’ll be back later Jamil!” Kalim promises before scurrying off with you in tow, despite Jamil’s protests.

“Sparky!” You call back frantically, relieved when you look back to see him already  scampering after you.

“I’m comin’!” 

“Kalim, what is there to discuss?” You ask, desperately trying to̴ ̸c̸u̸t̵ ̶t̴h̴i̶s̶ short. You need to find Ali and the lamp before he gets away, and deliver them to Jamil. Then, you’ll get the staff and leave while Kalim, Zahra, and “Aladdin” battle it out- just like in the original. You need to get this story back on track!

“Lots of things!” The Sultan smiles. “For example, what kind of fruits do you like best?”

“I need to use the bathroom!” You squawk, yanking yourself out of Kalim’s grip. “Can you give me just one moment?”

“Uhh…” Kalim stops. “Sure? It’s that way.”

“Thank you!” You hurry inside, and hope Kalim doesn’t notice Grim skirt in behind you. Honestly, you’re pretty sure he didn’t, considering how quickly he got sidetracked by the flowers in the garden.

“Sparky, you need to get that lamp.”

“How?” Grim’s ears fall against his head as his eyes grow wide. “You’re the one who always does the stealy stuff!”

“Well, there comes a time in every thief’s life where they need to steal some magical artifact to save their story.” You chide. “Flynn Rider stole the crown, Robin Hood stole King John’s gold, and Aladdin will steal the lamp back from Jafar. Now is your turn!”

“How?” Grim cowers. “I don’t know…”

“Sparky, I am a little indisposed here!” You point out. “It has to be you. You can do it, I know you can! Just get the lamp and trade it with Jamil, then come find me so we can leave!”

“What if something goes wrong?” Grim asks.

“We’ll figure it out.” You promise. “Just remember: never be the thing that stands out .”

Grim hesitates, but nods. “Okay. I’ll blend in.”

“Good. Wait a minute before you leave, okay?”

“Promise!” Grim nods. “You can count on me.”

You rub his head. “I know.”

When you exit the bathroom, Kalim is sitting by an ornate fountain with a peacock statue at the top. “Y/n!”

“Hey,” you walk over as calmly as possible. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No worries!” He grins with a smile that could melt even the stoniest of hearts (except, you suppose, Jamil’s.) He holds his fist out to you, a flower in his hand. “Here!”

“Oh,” you take it, “thank you.

“I saw it and thought of you!” He smiles. “Jasmines are really pretty!”

Your heart stops. “What.”

“I said the flower’s pretty!”

You eye him suspiciously but nod. “I agree.”

A jasmine, huh?

“So,” Kalim stands, “first we gotta go to the kitchen, and then we gotta go-”

“Can we stop by my room first?” You interrupt. “I’d like to grab a few things.” Like all of them.

“Oh, sure!” Kalim smiles. “Let’s go!”

***

(Yensid’s Ċ̸͉̊a̷̡̯̗̠͚͊̑͜s̴͔̮̮̾͘t̸̙̰̀͌̿̃l̴͍͕͐̌̐́͘͝ē̸̦͑̽̄̀̕͠,̵̹̆̉͊̈́͝, ? Years Ago)

“Good morning!” Crowley beams, opening the door to the Royal Postal Station. Two men working behind the counter look up.

“Heya! Welcome back- if it isn’t our most punctual customer!” The tall worker smiles, waving him over. 

The shorter, red haired one groans and checks the time. “One o’clock already?”

“It is Wednesday.” The blond smiles, ringing Crowley up at the counter. “The usual?”

“Indeed.” Crowley grins, gives a little wave, and—poof—an envelope appears. “I’ll surprise you gentlemen one day, but not today I’m afraid.”

The blond laughs as the red head rolls his eyes and comes closer to the two, hand outstretched for the envelope. 

“Looking forward to it.” The blonde muses, clacking numbers into the machine.

As Crowley hands over the envelope to the red haired man and taps his foot impatiently, his gaze drops to the shine of the mage’s polished shoes. Must be new- about time he replaced those old ones.

“How’s work?” The blonde asks.

Crowley gives him a smile. “Stressful- but rewarding. The King is a kind man- I owe him a lot.”

“He could stand to give you better wages.” The blond remarks, glancing at him up and down. His suit was clearly once expensive- but time and wear had taken their toll. The fabric was faded, the pieces mismatched, with frayed cuffs and faint burns that hinted at magical misfires. The hair at his temples had grayed since their first meeting, and the lines beneath his eyes had deepened, as if weighed down by things he never spoke of. “Did you hear? They’re starting to call that place you live in Ramshackle.”

“Oh, no!” Crowley’s eyes widen in horror. “Do you think this will reflect badly on the King?”

“I don’t know why you don’t just fix up the place- or better yet, why’d you buy it to begin with.” The red haired man points out. “S’not like you’re living with us commoners.”

The venom in the remark either goes over Crowley’s head or he simply doesn’t care. “I have what I need- though I’d loathe for it to reflect badly on his Majesty.”

“Maybe get a new suit then.” The blond gives him a lopsided smile as he waves away the red headed man, releasing him from their conversation. The shorter of the slips away, but neither of the other two men seem to notice. “For your sake.”

Crowley takes the blond’s hand in both of his own and shakes it, gratefully staring into the blonde’s eyes. “Thank you for the advice.”

He laughs. “No problem! Just get yourself a new suit man, you look like Cinderella- you know, before the bippidi boppidi boo. That’ll be-”

“Here.” Crowley takes  some coins out of his pocket. “I came prepared.”

The blond smiles good naturedly. “Of course you did- same price as always.”

Crowley pays, bows, and thanks the blond again profusely before leaving. The worker waves him off, letting the door shut before sighing.

What a weird guy… 

***

“Al, what’s happenin’?” The genie asks frantically, appearing from the lamp in a blue mist. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go!”

“I know, Genie…” Prince Ali, formerly known as Ashir, groans and pulls his hair in frustration. The former monkey-friend Elephant and Magic Carpet watch the scene sorrowfully. “It’s that creepy Jamil guy, and his sneaky sidekick too.”

Grim flattens his ears. That’s my Henchhuman you’re talking about!

“Yeah…” The Genie puts a finger to his chin. “That’s new. Could’ve sworn-”

“And now I’m banished. Banished!” Ashir flops onto the bed. “I can’t believe it!”

“Yeah, but Zahra seems to like you, right?” The Genie swoops down, and Grim peeks a little further out from behind the door to watch the distracted duo. “She can put in a good word for ‘ya!”

“Genie,” Ashir sits up with a heavy sigh. “I can’t set you free.”

“What? Sure you can! You just go,” Genie leans down and grabs ahold of Ashir’s jaw, moving it up and down like a puppet. “Genie? I wish to set you free!”

Ashir shakes him off and paces across the room. “I’m serious! Look, I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m banished! That’s not just something that’s gonna go away. I need to wish my way out of this!”

“You could talk to the Sultan again,” Genie points out. “He was weirdly heated earlier, but he seems like a good guy-”

“That won’t work, he’s the one who banished me!” Ashir stops his pacing and turns to the genie, not meeting his eyes. “I… I can’t wish you free.”

The Genie stares at him for a moment. “Fine, I understand. After all, you’ve lied to everyone else. Hey, I was beginning to feel left out. Now, if you excuse me,” he shrinks down to perch on the lamp, leaning forward with an exaggerated, theatrical bow, “ Master.” He zips back into the lamp. Ashir bends down to talk to the him, only to have the genie stick his tongue out at him through the lamp. Annoyed, Ashir slams the brass object down on the bed and smothers it with a pillow. 

“Fine! Then just- stay in there!”

Grim winces, as do they other (not so secretive spectators.) Ashir glares at them.

“What’re you guys lookin’ at?”

The elephant and the carpet slink away, hurt by their friend’s outburst. Ashir calls after them, but they don’t return.

The only one Grim has to wait for now is Prince Ali himself, and the lamp is his. How to get him out though? He doesn’t have the voice mimicry the parrot had in the original.

The Prince in question runs a hand through his hair and stares up at the ceiling, muttering his regrets.

What would you do? What was it you had told him? Never be the one who stands out? What does that mean?

Grim looks around for an idea, his eyes landing on the flamingos nearby.

Now he has an idea.

***

“Do you like it?” Kalim asks, taking his hands off your eyes.

“Wow.” You look around at the view. “It’s like you can see all of Agrabah from up here.”

Sure, you had already seen this view that night you were on the roof, and one similar (though not as grand) from Jamil’s balcony. However, seeing the city unfold beneath the daylight’s gentle embrace is a kind of fortune you never thought you’d have, so vast and endless that you cannot imagine a day when its grandeur would fail to leave you breathless.

“Yep!” Kalim puts his hands on his hips. “It’s one of my favourite spots in the entire palace for just that reason!”

“You’ve ever been down there?”

“Nope!” Kalim shakes his head. “I wanted to, but Jamil says it’s too dangerous.”

“...he’s probably right about that.” You wince, remembering your singular day in the marketplace. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for someone with a royal title to waltz into the streets and ask for some food.

“Have you been down there?” Kalim asks.

“Once. Not a great experience.”

“Oh.” Kalim’s face falls. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“There was a misunderstanding, and I was convicted of a crime I didn’t do.” It was also, ironically, the first crime since this adventure started that you actually hadn’t done . Your list of offense̴s̸ ̵m̷u̸s̵t̶ ̴b̵e a mile long at this point.

“What?” Kalim looks surprised. “That’s not fair!”

“You didn’t know?” You knew Kalim was purposefully kept in the dark, but you didn’t realize it was this bad.

“No!” He shakes his head, looking upset. “I’ll have to talk to Jamil about that later… that’s unacceptable! I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Oh…” You still. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Kalim shakes his head. “To think you could have been wrongly thrown in the dungeons for no reason at all- just think how many others might have suffered the same fate. You’ve done so much for us…”

“I haven’t done that much.” You cough.

“Sure you have! You saved Zahra, the Kingdom, and the palace has been way more cheerful since you showed up!”

“It has?” You can’t tell if this is just Kalim talking to reassure you, or if he genuinely means it.

“Of course!” Kalim beams. “Even Jamil has been in a better mood since you came!”

He has? You couldn’t tell- though if this is true, it’s likely not for the reasons Kalim thinks it is.

“You’re really irreplaceable.” He smiles softly at you.

You shuffle under his gaze. Well this is awkward.

***

Prince Ali runs screaming from his room as a flock of disoriented flamingos swoop overhead. He bats them off, almost tripping on his cape whilst he runs out the room.

“What has gotten into them?” He shrieks.

Grim sniggers. Birds are scared of fire- he just had to direct them in the right direction. Now that Ali is distracted, he scurries inside and grabs the lamp.

Bingo.

He runs off toward Jamil’s tower, anxious yet eager. Tense. He’ll just meet up with you afterwards…

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

A lot. A lot could go wrong.

“At last.” Jamil runs his fingers over the lamp, lifting it toward the light. A wicked smile creeps onto his face. “At long last!”

“Uh,” Grim pipes up awkwardly, ears flattening. “The staff?”

Jamil rubs the lamp, blue wisps of smoke emerging from the opening. A large, blue, pouting genie pops out, arms crossed and turned away from him.

“You know, Ash, I’m getting really-” He spins around, words dying on his tongue the instant he sees who’s holding the lamp. He squeaks. “I don’t think you’re him- readers, from now on the part of Ash will be played by a tall, dark, and sinister, sad man.”

Angrily, Jamil grabs hold of Genie’s beard and yanks him down to the floor, pressing his foot against his face and pushing it into the ground. “I am your Master now!”

“I’m afraid of that.”

“Uh, Jamil?” Grim frowns, putting his paws on his hips and tapping his little foot. “The staff?”

“Genie, grant me my first wish!”

“Hey!” Grim runs up and stands in front of Jamil’s feet, puffing out his chest and looking up angrily. “You said you’d give us the staff! Hand it over!”

“Why would you want the staff when I can give you all the riches in the world?” Jamil asks, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “All the gold you like! The clothes of a prince! Riches you can’t even begin to imagine!”

Grim still looks unconvinced.

“...I can conjure you some curry?”

Grim smirks. “Now we’re talkin’!”

“Genie, I wish to rule as Sultan!”

***

“Oooooh no.” You look up at the sky, darkening as blue clouds swirl above.

“What’s that?” Kalim gasps.

“Uhhhh…”

You hear a deep creaking—then scream as the marble pillars around you, ancient structures shaped by earth and time, snap in half under the sheer force of the wind. Kalim pulls you down, covering your head with his body to shield you from flying debris and falling stone.

“Are you okay?!”

“Fine!”

In an instant, Kalim is lifted slowly into the air, his turban rising from his head in haunting, perfect unison. Then, above you, Jamil appears wearing Kalim’s clothes, his maniacal laughter slicing through the silence. Your heart drops as your eyes lock onto what he’s holding: your only way out.

“Ja… mil?” Kalim mumbles. “What is this? What’s going on?”

Jamil laughs- a raw, unfiltered laugh that releases years of pent up resentment. The kind of humour not made of joy- but anger, envy, and everything in between.

“You’ve been the same for as long as I remember. Oblivious, gullible, foolish… AND I HATED IT!”

You wince at the change in volume, eyes flitting around for Grim. Where is he?

“You trot along merrily in ignorant bliss, utterly blind to my suffering! Every time I see you smile, it makes my skin crawl! I’m sick of it! You have no idea how many days I spent wishing that you would just go away!”

Kalim looks sick, like he’s been physically punched in the gut. He flounders, unsure what to say.

“Kalim!” Zahra suddenly appears, stopping short and eyes narrowing when she spots you and Jamil. “Jamil, what is the meaning of this? Stop this at once!”

Suddenly, the ground beneath you begins to shake. You struggle to keep your balance, gripping what remains of the stone railing in the hopes of staying upright. Kalim holds you close, his arms a barrier against the falling rubble as the palace slowly ascends and rests on Agrabah’s highest peak.

“Ah, but there’s a new order now!” Jamil corrects. “My order. You will bow down to me!”

“Jamil, please, just stop!” Kalim runs forward in front of his cousin. “You can have what you want! You can be sultan. I’ll-”

“What, you think that will work?” Jamil laughs. “You. Will. B̷̧͔̩͓͍̈̽́̈̆̕o̶̡̢͙̲̳͔̅̊w̸͓̯̤͇̮̫̯͇̯̩̔͆́͆̀͝.”

Zahra steps forward. “We will never bow to you!”

Kalim freezes halfway through his bow.

“If you won’t bow before a sultan,” Jamil spits, “then you will cower before a sorcerer! Bow before my magic- Genie, my second wish! I wish to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world!”

Lightning cracks as you stare up at Jamil in fear. You’re on a balcony above a thousand foot drop, completely at the mercy of an unstable mage.

Magic SUCKS!

Gold envelopes Jamil’s body as he’s lifted high into the air, raising his staff to the sky in victory.

He laughs as he’s lowered to the ground, back in his own sorcerer’s robes. “This is it! Phenomenal cosmic powers!”

“Jamil!” You scream to be heard over the wind. “What are you doing?”

He turns around, eyes lighting up when he sees you before sauntering over. “Ah, yes. There you are! Don’t worry my dear, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

“What?” Your stomach drops. What could you have done to piss him off?

…specifically?

“You shall live a life of luxury, never worrying about food, shelter, or your safety again.” He whispers, bringing a hand to your cheek tenderly. He looks into your eyes. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Before you can even move, a swirl of magic surrounds you, and you find yourself somewhere elegant- deep inside the palace. Is this the throne room?

The room is wide and tall, bathed in only the red light burning from the braziers around the room. Marble columns surround the space, holding up the ceiling as if holding up the sky. The bare marble floors hold no rug or decoration, but various mountains of riches are arranged in careless abundance on the floor. Yet even with all of that, it’s the sound of munching that grabs your attention. You turn your attention to the long, full, buffet table stacked high with a variety of mouthwatering choices with a certain little monster sitting comfortably at the end, stuffing his face with food.

“Hey, Henchhuman!” Grim waves you over, fisting another paw of shakshuka into his mouth. “‘Was wonderin’ where you were at.”

“Sparky!” You run over and scoop him up into your arms, holding him tightly. “Oh, thank god. What happened?”

“Jamil seems really set on giving me curry.” Grim tells you serenely. “I think he’s grown attached to me- he knows potential when he sees it!”

“...that’s definitely a possibility.” You slowly nod, setting him down. “He definitely likes us, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah.” Grim agrees, throwing a date into the air and chewing it. “They even have those weird rocks here.”

“What rocks?” You ask, looking at him.

“The ones that smell really good, but they only taste okay.” Grim shrugs. “Though, they’re getting better!”

“Sparky, stop eating rocks.” You sigh, shaking your head. “That can not be good for you.”

Grim ignores you and stuffs his mouth with another bite of food. “Whatha plam now?”

You sigh and slump into the nearest chair, which is aggravatingly comfortable. “What does Jamil want? He said something about safety and a life of luxury before he teleported me out of there- but why would he bother? We’re not friends, and we sort of just stopped by a few days ago. We’re barely helpful in the first place.”

“Where were you before you got teleported in?”

“Outside with Kalim and Zahra.” You grimace. “I hope they’re okay…”

Grim stops eating and stares at the wall for a moment, before setting the pastry back on his plate. You suppose he lost his appetite, and guilt creeps up your throat.

“...I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Grim crosses his arms, surprised.

“This is my fault. You did exactly what I asked… I shouldn’t have trusted Jamil.” You sigh and stare at the wall, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“...you shouldn’t trust me either.” Grim doesn’t look at you.

You turn to him and blink. “What? Why?”

“...I used magic to get the lamp.”

You wait a beat, but he doesn’t continue. “That’s it?”

“Whaddya mean, ‘that’s it?’” he asks, turning to face you.

You jump in surprise- why is he crying? You know he has magic, and you know he wants to be a mage one day. You’ve seen him use it before, so why is there now a problem-

Oh.

“Sparky,” you lean over and plop him into your lap, “do you remember what you said to me when we first met?”

“Maybe? Which part?”

“I asked what you were bringing to the table.” You stroke his head, his ears squishing under your hand with each stroke.

He sinks. “Yeah…”

“And what did you say?”

He hangs his head. “Magic. And you said you didn’t like it, and now you have even more of a reason to get rid of me.” His voice cracks, and you still.

“Get rid of you?” You adjust him to face you. “Where is this coming from?”

“Because of… of…” He can’t get out the words and instead starts sobbing, trembling in your arms.

“Sparky,” you say seriously, “what was my response right after you told me you could use magic?”

He sniffs. “No thanks?”

“Exactly. And I still let you tag along so you could become a great mage, didn’t I?”

“But, that’s… that’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“Because I almost killed you.”

“And? That just proves that you need to stay with me even more and get Crowley’s teaching.”

Grim avoids your eyes and doesn’t say anything.

“...was it a fire spell? When you were getting the lamp, I mean.”

“...yeah.”

“A big one?”

“Yeah…” He sniffs.

“Good.” You muse. “Do what you’re good at- if anything, I should be worried you’ll be replacing me given what a good job you did with the lamp.”

“It was only because I used your advice.” Grim looks up at you. “You said not to be the thing that stood out, so I slipped inside while Ali was distracted by the birds.”

“Very clever, Sparky.” You nod in approval. “I’m impressed.”

“It’s like what you did on the ship with Azul.” Grim explains. “You kept their attention so I could sneak around. The flamingos were like you.”

You pause. “I’m gonna choose to believe that I’m teaching you survival skills and not bad habits.” You pat him on the head. “You just remember what you’re good at- and fire is definitely one of them. After all, we need to play to our strengths.”

“You got some̸t̷h̸i̷n̴g̶ ̴i̶n mind?”

You smile and pet his ears. “Yep. At least, that’s what I’m hoping- assuming everything is like with the original tale… does Jamil suspect you?”

“Nope! He said he would give us food- so I played along! Like you would!”

You smile. “Alright Sparky, listen up! I’m gonna need you to keep an eye on a certain someone…”

***

You sit on a chair watching Kalim dance, limbs jerked around by magical strings. His jester’s costume rattles, bells tinkling with joy, yet his large, round eyes have lost their light.

Jamil laughs, watching from his throne as Zahra stands chained beside him holding a tray of fruit. “Isn’t this fantastic?” He looks over at you expectantly, but you can’t bring yourself to enjoy his sick idea of entertainment.

“Yeah. Real great.”

Jamil frowns and tilts his head. “Why aren’t you smiling, my dear? This is everything you could have ever wanted!”

In a way, it is. The thought makes your stomach churn. You had always wished it could be like this- you and Odin, in a palace with everything you could ever hope for. The world at your fingertips.

And yet you can’t even bring yourself to look at half of it.

“I’m just tired.” You force a smile, looking up at him. “That’s all. It’s been such a shock and all… and I can’t help but keep imagining how luxurious my bed might be.”

Jamil nods, satisfied. “I imagine it must be- suddenly seeing your master become the most powerful man in the world. But you knew this was going to happen all along, didn’t you? You foresaw it- even when nobody else did. That’s why you brought me the lamp.”

“What?” Kalim’s voice cuts across the room. You’re unable to look at him, but you can feel his eyes. “Y/n… no. No, you wouldn’t…”

“I knew it.” Zahra hisses, glaring from her place beside Jamil. “I knew it, you-”

“Not a word.” Jamil yanks her down by the chain, voice a clenched warning. The fruit falls off her tray, though she continues to clench the dish with white knuckles. Jamil’s face softens as he reaches out to run the back of his fingers down his cheeks. He pouts, cooing her. “You know, it pains me to see you reduced to this, Zahra.”

Her jaw clenches as she looks away, hugging the platter closer to herself. You look away, feeling uncomfortably. You know what’s coming next- the infamous scene when Jafar hits on the young Princess. Though the age gap is significantly less creepy, you still feel like an intruder watching it.

“Run along now. Y/n, come here.”

…what?

You exchange a confused look with Grim before walking over to Jamil, heart racing. What does he want from you?

“Yes?” You kneel down at the base of his throne, not even on the first step.

“Come closer.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand. You stand up, confused, but move closer. Your heart beats faster, dread coursing through your form. You need to maintain a relaxed facade, since Jamil will pick up on any signs of discomfort immediately.

He is just like you, after all.

You bring yourself to his feet and prostrate yourself before him. Still, he seems dissatisfied.

“Rise for your Master.”

You do as you're told, standing and making eye contact. You ready yourself for a command, a question, a betrayal.

Not for Jamil to grab you by the waist and yank you into his lap.

“A beautiful desert flower such as yourself deserves to be on the arm of the most powerful man in the world… don’t you think?”

He pulls you closer to his body so that you are pressed right up against him all while smirking at you devilishly. You fall forward, instinctively reaching your hands out to catch yourself. They end up splayed across his chest, only widening his smile.

You splutter. “Jamil-”

“Master.”

You choke on air. “What?”

“I am your Master, and you will refer to me as such.”

Your brain stops working. Jamil waits, never releasing you from his hold. He looks at you like you’re the finest jewel in the dessert. You’re forgetting how to breathe.

“I can feel your heart racing, you know,” he rasps. “Makes me wonder what it would do if we got even closer… I could hear every little breath- see every time your chest rises and every time it falls. It’s cute, really. I even see that adorable blush on your cheeks. Tell me, my dear, are you nervous?”

You don’t know how to respond- not that you have a chance to, as a glass of wine is thrown over the top of you both. You jump and look over at Zahra, who is angrily holding an empty wine glass.

“You both make me sick.” She spits, eyes burning with the hatred of forty suns.

“You will pay for that!” Jamil seethes, never taking his eyes off Zahra as he stands, though he sets you down carefully before he moves, keeping his hand on your waist the whole time. “How dare you disrespect me, disrespect her in this way! She isn’t just some servant girl you can look down on- she is your Queen, and you will bow to her!”

You watch in horror as Jamil grips his staff and mutters a spell through gritted teeth. She’s zapped with a sudden bolt of red magic that’s slammed into her chest, retching a blood curdling scream that comes out from her very soul. Kalim yells something you don’t hear. Her body jerks forward on its own, contorting itself into a bow as her bones bend into position. When she’s stilled breathes heavily, eyes wide and full of tears.

You can only stand and stare, unable to react.

Jamil slumps back into his throne, more concerned with wiping a drop of wine off the head of his staff than the princess’s- no, former princess’s wellbeing. “Much better. Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yeah…” You mechanically nod as you tear your eyes away from Zahra. Jamil examines you up and down, watching wine drip down your form. You notice his gazes lingers in… certain areas, but you suppose you now know why.

How did this happen? Jamil should have been in love with Zahra- or at the very least, attracted to her. He had been trying to get her hand in marriage, after all. What changed? He had watched you determinedly wheeze into a soundless mijwiz for almost twenty minutes- you are not exactly awe-inspiring.

Yet deep down, maybe you know exactly why this happened. If you think about it, you saw him when no one else did. Treated him like he mattered. Like he’s more than what he is. Maybe you even got him to laugh once or twice (though at you) with your off-key singing during lessons.

After all, aren’t those same qualities what made you fall for Odin? Aren’t you in this mess for the same reasons?

You were more similar to Jamil than you’d like to admit, and it is coming back to bite you like a poisonous desert viper.

“Come here.” Jamil purrs, pulling you down into his lap again. He raises his thumb to your lips to wipe off a drop of wine that had fallen into the corner of your mouth, letting his finger linger there. You freeze, unsure what else to do. So long as you’re in his lap, your options are limited. He drags his thumb across your skin, dark eyes gazing into yours and never breaking contact. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulls it away, ḇ̷͝ŕ̵̗i̷̥̒n̸͈̈ģ̶̈́ĭ̶̜n̵̛͉g̴̦̓ his finger to his lips before slowly dragging his tongue across it.

Your face burns.

He smirks, seemingly enjoying himself immensely. “Adorable. Now, what about the rest of you?” He stares at your skin hungrily, eyes locking on the side of your neck. His voice is a husky and low. “It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine, after all.”

That’s when the table of food caught fire.

***

Ropes snake around the Cloaked Stranger’s body, pinning him to a post. His wrists are bound tightly behind him, the cords pressing harshly against his chest. He’s in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but dirt and grass. The moon looms high overhead, illuminating the terrain. If a wild animal were to stumble upon him now, he might as well be dinner. God, he hopes there aren’t any vipers around. Those slinky creatures are the worst.

If only that bastard hadn’t left him in the middle of the ravine- god, he’ll kill him. He’ll actually kill him.

Are you alright? You have to be- he’d never forgive himself if you weren’t.

That stupid prince isn’t trustworthy enough to save you, and he sure as hell isn’t leaving your fate up to some greedy nobles. His heart aches just when he even pictures a world without your bright and shining smile- that same smile he’s been in love with since you were kids.

The smile you gave him when he was sad, letting him know he was never alone.

The smile you gave him when he brought home some dried fruit- joyous and excited. You have always had a sweet tooth.

The smile you gave him through tears so he wouldn’t worry. It was fake and forced, and he always saw through it. When that happened, he would pull you in for a hug and hold you tight, trying to shield you from the suffering of the cold street you slept on.

Even that strained smile you had given him for years without explanation, puzzling him to no end. It kept him up some nights as he lay there wondering what could be hidden beneath it, haunting him. He hoped you weren’t putting it up for his sake- it wasn’t sad, exactly, but there was something deeper in it he could never quite grasp.

What he would give to see that smile of yours again. He tilts his head up to the sky, looking at the stars.

The two of you would stargaze all the time- one of the only perks of being on the streets. After all, the two of you got the best view. He always liked the brightest one the best- as a kid, he had claimed it. He could remember it like it was yesterday… warmth fills his chest as he recalls.

“That one!” Odin pointed at the star with a grin, hanging just over the Yensid castle. “I like that one, so that’s my star!”

“Then I like that one too!” You proclaimed, never taking your eyes off the sky.

“No, silly!” Odin shook his head. “You have to pick another one of your own!”

“Oh.” You hum, deep in thought, examining the sky above you.

Odin moves to sit on his knees, waiting patiently for your answer. You take your time, as if weighing the pros and cons of each and every star above you. It made sense- after all, this was a very important decision in your six year old minds.

“What about the first star to the right?” You ask, turning to look at him. “Can I have that one?”

“Yeah!” Odin nodded, scooching closer. “But why not the second star? That one goes to Neverland!”

“But I wanna be next to your star!” You whined with a pout.

“Fine, then that one can be both our star.” Odin says definitely. “And one day we can go to Neverland, and hang out with the mermaids and the lost boys!”

You shook your head. “No. The mermaids are mean and the Lost Boys wouldn’t like me.”

“Why not?” Odin asked, surprised. Who wouldn’t like you? You were the best person in the whole world- that’s why you’re his best friend!

“Can’t read.” You huff, puffing out your cheeks and slumping.

“Oh.” Odin nods. “Well, don’t worry. The lost boys will like me, so I’ll just let them know they have to be friends with you as well.”

“What about the mermaids?” You mumble.

“I’ll keep you safe from them!” Odin assures you. “And since the lost boys will be friends with you too, you’ll have your own army to defend yourself with.”

“Hmm.” You muse. “What about pirates?”

“They never win.” Odin shakes his head. “And if they get you then I’ll just come and save you with Peter Pan and Tinkerbell.”

You think it over, pulling your blanket (an old but still good tablecloth you had stolen out of someone’s trash) tighter around yourself to help keep out the cold. “Okay. I’ll go with you then.”

“Great!” Odin grins. Then, a horrible thought strikes him. What if you liked the lost boys more than him? Or Peter Pan? Or Tinkerbell?

“I wanna try out some Pixie Dust.” You tell him. “Flying sounds really cool.”

“Yeah, it does.” Odin agrees with a nod before asking what he actually wanted to say. “I’d still be your favourite though, right?”

“Of course you would!” You look at him like he just asked the dumbest thing in the world. “And I’d be yours, right?”

“Yep!” Odin grins, popping the ‘p.’

“Yep!” You repeat, doing the same.

He giggles and moves closer to feel your heat. It was a cold night- but with you around, the darkness never felt so lonely anymore.

He wonders if you can see the stars right now. Do you think about him as much as he does you?

He’d get you back, and then he’d take you far, far away. Away from Kings, away from guards, away from it all. He’d take you to Neverland, guided by the stars.

He’d been following you since you left the castle, and while he doesn’t know where you are, he hasn't lost you yet.

He tests the tightness of the rope- definitely looser than those furry weirdos should have tied it. When they had been wrapping him in the ropes, he had made sure to play up how tight his bindings were. He had even held his breath until he turned purple, causing them to frantically untie thei̶r̴ ̴k̷n̶o̶t̷s̸.̴ ̴T̶h̴e̵y̵ ̷want him anchored, not dead.

He shifts on the spot, thankful there aren’t any guards in the area. They’ve fucked up, thinking he’s locked down tight. Grinding his teeth, he wriggles until the rope over his shoulders and starts scraping at the rough fibers. It takes brutal patience, but finally, he bites down and starts tearing through it, strand by stubborn strand.

It’s rough and hurts his teeth, leaving a horrible scraping sensation across the enamel. Still he works and grinds at it, slowly breaking each separate thread in half. He’s not sure how long he does this for- it feels like hours. Eventually, the rope breaks.

The coarse rope grates against his teeth, leaving a horrible scraping sensation across the enamel and scraping the flesh of his mouth with each movement. Jolts of pain through his jaw spike through his jaw as he grits his teeth, working and grinding and ripping each filthy fiber apart one by one. He doesn’t know how long it takes- it feels like hours. His mouth is a bloody mess, his gums shredded and aching. Then, with a sickening snap like bone, the rope finally gives way.

Now for the hard part—the one around his hands. He shifts, the rope around his chest slipping off more easily now, giving him just enough space to move. He forces himself upright, muscles stiff and screaming, then leans forward, testing how far he can stretch from the post. The bindings dig into his wrists, but he grits his teeth and keeps going. Every inch counts.

Just enough- and the pole is only about six feet off the ground. Given that he only needs to get his arms across the top, he won’t need to go that high.

Falling, at the very least, won’t be fatal.

He puts one foot on the pole, finds a grip, leans further forward, and pushes himself up.

It’s agony- white-hot and blinding. His shoulders scream under the pressure, joints twisting in ways they were never meant to move as he writhes around the post. His arms contort behind him, muscles pulled taut like fraying cords. His chest feels like it’s going to split open. Every shift grinds his spine against the wood, sending knives of pain through his lower back. It feels like his arms are being torn from their sockets- and still, he keeps going.

Still, he keeps going. All for you. Would you, he wonders, give him a smile if you knew? One of pride and admiration, of care and concern, of love and affection?

He drops hard, the sudden slack catching him off guard as his wrists slip over the top. He knew it was coming—just not when. His balance vanishes. He stumbles forward and crashes to his knees, skin tearing against the stone. Fresh scrapes burn across old bruises, sharp and sudden. It stings like hell, but it’s fleeting. Temporary. He doesn’t stop.

Losing you is a cut that would never heal. He feels sick to his stomach at the thought.

He lifts himself off the ground and runs off, body aching, away from the pole. Blood dribbles down his face, though he has no way of stopping it. He just needs to get far enough and wait for the sun to rise, and then he can leave this wretched place.

He runs, hands tied behind his back, each step further from the ropes. Each step a step closer to you.

Leona watches him run, peering at him from a distance.

“Boss?” Ruggie tentatively asks. “Are you just gonna let him go?”

A pause, green eyes glowing under the moon’s light. It’s not cont̴e̸m̴p̶l̴a̷t̵i̶v̴e or confused, no. It’s pleased- decisive. Like everything had gone just the way he planned.

“...follow him.” Leona commands, turning to Jack. “But don’t let him know you’re there.”

“What?” The Wolf blinks. “Do you want me to stop him?”

“No.” The Lion shakes his head. “Just until he disappears.”

“So forever?” Jack deadpans.

Leona lets out a sigh and turns back to the silhouette racing across the savannah. “If I’m right, it’ll be just until the sun comes up. Let me know in the mornin’- I’m going to bed.”

GAWD this chapter was long 😭😭😭  It took forever to edit.

Also, Tema on Quotev (also known as yuu-twisted on tumblr) sent me this awesome FAN ART OF MC IN BOOK FOUR!!!! 😍😍😍😍 I love the idea of her colours being inspired by both Iago and Jasmine, that's so creative!!!

Also it is just simply ADORABLE????????? I love how the hair textures and the pattern on the cloth. Plus her expression and pose????? It's so cute!!!! 

Thank you Tema for taking the time and putting your talent into creating art for the story! I loved getting to see your take on MC and am super flattered you created this. It's amazing!!! :D

Chapter Text

Jamil runs over to the table, waving his staff in the air before pointing it at the fire. Water swirls into existence, magically suspended above the flames. Then he drops it, dousing the fire with a resounding splash! A wet and shaking furry animal drips in his seat, looking at the sorcerer in wide-eyed betrayal.

Jamil looks at him flatly. “You should’ve moved.”

“I didn’t know I was gonna get soaked!” Grim protests, throwing his paws in the air.

Jamil crosses his arms. “If you didn’t want there to be water then you shouldn’t have set the table on fire.”

“It was an accident! Besides’ you should be thankin’ me!” Grim protests, pointing under the table. “See?”

Jamil bends down to check, locking eyes with a certain street rat who looks moments away from wetting themselves who whimpers a small: “drat.”

“You!” Jamil seethes, aiming his staff right at him. “You little-”

“Jamil, stop! Please!” Zahra cries out rushing to stop him as you take advantage of the distraction to scooch closer to Kalim.

“Yo.”

Kalim doesn’t lift his head.

“You wanna get out of these ropes?”

“...why?” Kalim asks, voice barely a whisper. “Why did you-”

“Look,” you wring your hands, “it’s…. Complicated. I’m not with Jamil, and I have my own issues I’m dealing with. Jamil was just the best way to fix them.”

“What?” Kalim snaps, looking up at you with eyes full of sadness. “What could possibly be that-”

“Look!” You cut him off, unable to look at him in the eyes. “Not everyone in power is as nice as you. Look at Jamil- and where I come from, there’s more than one person who fits that description. I wouldn’t be doing this if I-” your voice grows quiet. “If I had a choice.”

…you didn’t have a choice. As much as you were growing to care about Crowley- he had asked you to- he was doing-

He had planned this. He had given you a deal he knew you would take because unlike you, he had actually seen the future. And now you are here. Because you were fated.

“Finally!” Jamil laughs, throwing his head back in pure adrenaline filled delight. Ashir screams in agony as his body contorts and mutates, slowly shrinking as his bones crunch and limbs pop before your eyes. His skin stretches around his new form, his front teeth forcefully growing out of his gums like nails being pushed through wood. Hair appears all over his body, turning into dark, matted fur. He drops to the floor with a squeak before a cage is dropped over his head with a forceful rattle.

Jamil laughs again wickedly. “Now that’s what I call a street rat!”

“Ali!” Zahra rushes forward, dropping to her knees to reach her beloved. Jamil cackles and yanks her chain to prevent her body from going any further.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t remember giving you permission to leave.” Jamil mocks. “Pick up the fruit you dropped and stay by the wall like a pretty piece of furniture before I hang you from the wall for a new kind of decor.”

“Kalim.” You hiss.

He snaps out of his horrified stupor and looks at you firmly, giving you a nod. You glance over at Grim, who watches you from the table at the ready.

You needed to stop Ashir from provoking Jamil, since his staff would disappear if he transformed into a giant snake to fight him- and you’re certain it would also disappear if he became a genie. Besides, he still needs his last wish to complete the story. Zahra is less likely to interfere on his behalf too now that he’s a rat, giving you more room to work.

“Jamil?” You call his name out sweetly, dropping your voice to a husk. Kalim cringes at your tone. “Can you come over a second?”

Jamil hums and you waltz over to him, meeting him in the middle. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in so close your chests are almost touching.

“I have something to tell you.”

“I’m all ears.” He looks down at you tenderly, though something carnal rests just behind his eyes.

“I had a vision.”

He frowns. “What of?”

You look around the room, reaching your arms up behind Jamil’s neck. When you’re sure he can’t see your hands, you give Grim a thumbs up with the same hand the most expensive thing you wear- the bracelet, Jamil’s gift to you, is on.

Grim sneaks across the room.

“About your third wish.”

“What is it?” Jamil asks, coming closer. You bite your lip.

“It will bring your demise.”

“What?” Jamil moves closer. “Tell me.”

“You will ask to be the most powerful one in the room by wishing to be a genie.” You explain. “After all, you only obtained this power through his magic in the first place. But a genie belongs in a lamp, and you will be trapped in one forever.”

“Then how do I gain more power?” Jamil asks, moving closer. “What must I wish for instead?”

You shake your head. “That future has not yet been decided. But I have another prophecy to give you.”

Jamil waits patiently, eyes desperate and hungry. His grip on you has tightened, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I saw that you were betrayed- not by anyone or a wish, but by your staff.” You gaze up at him pleadingly. “That’s why I wanted to take it from you when you got the lamp- Jamil, I’ve known you were destined for this from the very beginning. You are the greatest man in the world- I can’t see you being destroyed like that. You have all the power now, you don’t need it anymore.”

Jamil stares at you for a moment before smiling. “Alright. I’ll get rid of my staff- but only because it’s you. After all, you would never betray me… though I promise you, I’d want you here even without your power.”

You blink and then force a laugh. “What can I say? I’m a powerful prophet.”

“Yes.” Jamil nods. “I sensed the magic in you the day we met- the raw power inside of you is incredible. You may only use it to see the future, but I can help you learn to harness it. The two of us together can become the most powerful duo the land world has ever seen.”

Your mind slows to a halt. “What?”

“You don’t really think I’d just take the word of any thief off the side of the road who claims to be a prophet, do you?” Jamil questions, tenderly pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “I felt it in you- that’s how I know you’re telling the truth.”

What is he talking about? Since when do you have magic? Is he trying to get inside your head? This is the first time you were hearing about this! Did Crowly know? No. No, you don’t have magic!

Forget if it made perfect sense. Your father, from what you remember, had been incredibly talented. You feel the disgust burning in your chest. Of course you got it from him. He was like an insect that would never leave. You’d rather be magicless.

“And of course, Grim.” Jamil acknowledges. “He has magic inside him as well, though there’s something thicker about it.”

“Thicker?” You ask, tilting your head and trying to keep yourself from having a full on meltdown. There was a time and place, and this certainly isn’t it.

“Yes.” Jamil nods. “Something off…” He sees the concern on your face, and cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t fret. As I promised, I will take care of you, and that extends to Grim.”

“Oh…” Much to your annoyance, your heart warms ever so slightly even though you still feel bile at the back of your throat. You will the words circling around in your head to shut up. “Thank you.”

“However, I fear he would somehow lose or break my staff if I were to give it to him.” He muses, looking at his staff. A fair concern, really. He turns to you, gray eyes gazing deeply into yours. “You’re the only one I trust to hold it.”

“Thank you. You won’t regret this.” You promise, taking the staff. Yes you will.

“Jamil!” Kalim’s voice booms out from beside the throne, lifting the lamp high above his head.

Grim bounds toward you, the last parts of scattered puppet string burning on the floor.

“NO!” Jamil yells in horror, reaching for his staff. You shove him aside and race toward Grim, heart pounding, as Kalim begins to rub the lamp.

“Oh boy!” The Genie celebrates, pulling a party popper as he appears in the air. There’s a bang followed by confetti as he preforms a victory dance. “Plot twist! Y/n and Grim are actually good guys pulling in in the last second?”

“Genie!” Kalim commands. “I w̶̢̥̌i̴̡̭̣͙̅͛̏s̸͈͙̒͊̕͝ḫ̵͙̯̺͐̽ for all of Jamil’s wishes to be undone!”

“Sorry Jamil!” The Genie celebrates unapologetically, spreading his arms. The sky turns blue above you and the sun peeks out from behind the dark clouds just as Grim leaps into your arms. You grab your necklace and hold it above your head, looking around to ensure no one is watching. No one is, too distracted by the enchanted phenomena happening around you.

You step into the light and disappear, away from a mystical land of magic and sand and toward the place you most consider home.

***

You don’t realize how drained you actually are until you collapse on the floor. Grim rolls over onto his back and pants heavily, staring at the ceiling.

“That was scary.”

“No kidding.” You agree, leaning back. You sit there for a moment, the two of you just existing.

But stopping gives a chance for your thoughts and fears to catch up.

The magic- since when have you had magic? You’ve never been able to use it, not that you’d want to. It feels like a disease within your soul, one that constricts around your very being until it swallows it.

Was that the only reason Jamil had been as interested in you as he had? For a few days, you’d had a taste of what you’d always wanted- good food, fine cloths, a room that would make the gods jealous.

But why had it felt so shallow? You had everything at your fingertips. And yet most of the time you hadn’t even enjoyed it.

Just a few days ago you would have died to have just a single jewel in the bracelet you’re wearing- your bracelet. However, now that you actually have it…

It hasn’t fixed anything. Nothing changed. You’re exactly the same- in a sea of chains you aren’t sure how close you are to drowning in.

Crowley peeks his head through the door when he notices your figures. Your stomach churns.

Friend or foe? Ally or enemy? Truth or lie?

Your skin crawls. Your breathing quickens. Your adrenaline is crashing, you’re exhausted, but the fire inside of you burns hot with life.

“You look radiant.” Crowley remarks, looking at your new attire. “Like the finest craftsmanship has been devoted to every stitch of your attire.”

You look away. “It probably was.”

Crowley frowns and examines your expression. “You’re tired I’m sure, but what has made you so upset?”

You take a shaky breath and laugh humorlessly. “What, do you want a list? Mirrors, villains, these stupid heists, and I just found out…” You take in a deep inhale. “I have magic.”

Grim stands up, looking at you with wide eyed concern. You hate that he’s looking at you like that. Like you’re about to break.

“...I see.” Crowley chooses his next words carefully. “That must have been quite a shock.”

“Did you know?” The question hangs heavy in the room, the silence thunderously loud. You stare at Crowley and wait for an answer. Some kind of confirmation. Anything that says it isn’t true.

But that’s not what happens.

“I had an inkling.”

“Why.” You spit, clenching your fists. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were certain you didn’t.” Crowley explains. “And I don’t know what happened inside the palace. Since you were certain and seemed to despise it so much, I didn’t think to bring it up. It didn’t matter in the first place.”

“Didn’t matter?” You seethe. “Didn’t. Matter? Do you know what it’s like to spend your whole life trying to escape something that has ruined it just to find out it was a part of you this whole time? That it’s always been there?”

“Y/n-”

“I have spent my life trying to earn something I never had, that is given only to those with the power to get it. And I’ve had it inside of me this entire. Time?”

Your hands are shaking. Your body is hot and tense. Tears are cascading down your face before you can stop them, and yet all you feel is empty. Your chest feels hollow, and there’s a certain ache inside it you can’t describe. It’s a dark open space not even the warmest of the sun’s rays could penetrate. It’s angry and tired and frustrated and lost and-

Sad.

And you’re not even entirely sure why.

“What is it you want, Y/n?” Crowley asks gently. He’s calm. He’s collected. He’s everything you aren’t and more.

Just looking at him makes you want to vomit.

“I don’t know!” You scream through a sob. “I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know!”

Grim comes closer. “Henchhuman!”

“I have no family. My only friend betrayed me. After this I go nowhere. I have nothing to my name, and I am worth as much as dirt.” You are screaming, but you don’t even realise it. Crowley looks confused- like you may have spoken too quickly for him to make out.

“Y/n, you aren’t nothing-”

“What am I then?” You cry. “What am I? I have nothing to work toward, no one to work for, I’m utterly and completely meaningless!”

Crowley outstretches his arms and comes toward you, voice a gentle breeze amidst the storm. “Y/n, you’re not meaningless.”

It’s gentle. Welcome. Kind.

You take a step back.

“Stop it!” You scream, gripping at your hair. You collapse on the ground, too empty inside to bear holding yourself up any longer. You slide your trembling hands down your face to cover it, as if that simple action would shield away you from everything. From life. From him. “Stop pretending like you care. Like you understand. Like you know what I’m going through!”

“Y/n, please-”

“Cause you don’t!” You yell, voice becoming raspier with each word. You clutch your necklace tightly with one fist like it will tether you to the ground. “You don’t! You have everything! And you just want to throw it all away! What’s wrong with you?!”

Crowley halts his steps and looks at you. “Y/n, I don’t have everything.”

“Yes you do!” You scream. “Everything!”

“I understand the world hasn’t been kind to you,” Crowley takes a deep breath, and you can’t help but relish it. You’ve gotten under his skin. You don’t know why- you’re not thinking rationally. You don’t want to hurt him. Not really. But you’re angry at the world, and you want him to be angry too. “And I understand that you’re exhausted. But don’t mistake comfort for ignorance- I’ve experienced more than most see in a lifetime.”

“You think you’ve seen it?” You laugh, sharp and bitter. “From what? A velvet curtain? A stained-glass window? You think watching pain is the same as living it?”

Crowley takes a deep breath, shakier this time. His jaw is tenser than it was before. “What is this really about?”

You hate the way he seems to care. You hate how he's pretending. You hate how ungrateful he is for the life he leads. He has the world at his fingertips- what could he possibly want that’s worth risking it all?

You know you’re being a hypocrite. You know you’re exactly the same- risking it all for your own aspirations. You don’t even like the life you’ll go back to. Do you even have something to go back to in the first place? Odin betrayed you- he never cared.You have no friends, no family…

You don’t want to go back on the streets. You don’t want the life of a noble. What’s left? You were chasing comfort like it meant something- now it just feels like eating wax fruit: pretty, tasteless, and useless. You built your life on survival, not luxury, and now everything you fought for feels like the punchline of the universe’s favouite joke: your life.

You’re angry. You’re upset. You’re frustrated. You’re sad. You’re scared. You need to get it out. You need to process the stupid lie you believed for so long: that things would get better if they were shiner.

You had always said you’d rather cry in a castle, but at the end of the day it was just another room.

And if you’re not fighting for a life you never had…

What are you even fighting for?

“What would you know.” You spit. “Don’t pretend like you understand me, you’ve never had to crawl to survive. I go do your dirty work, and you get to stand there and watch me fall apart. You don’t even flinch. What’s the matter, Crowley?” You stand up and take a step toward him. “Silver spoon got your tongue? Or is this the part where you pretend this was all some grand lesson I was meant to learn?”

Crowley clenches his fist, clawed rings digging into his hand. “Do you think wealth solves everything? Do you think the pain will go away with fine clothes and riches? It doesn’t. “Fortune fills pockets, not souls.”

You know that. But you don’t want to. You look at him dead in the eye, defiant and biting, and mutter so only he can hear, “I’d rather cry in a castle.”

“AND I’D RATHER HAVE MY LIFE BACK!”

You go still and stare at the man in front of you, shocked back into reality. He’s breathing heavily, body tense and fingers curled. You’ve never seen him like this before. He’d never broken character before, but there’s no act to what you’re seeing now. His theatrical flair is replaced with sharp, strained words. His grandiose gestures are now abrupt and disjoined. His carefree attitude is now clouded with visible anger. His eccentric charm is gone, his lighthearted tone subdued, and mystery now unguarded openness.

“...I apologize.” He says stiffly, straightening himself and breathing heavily. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

You’re too stunned to speak.

Silence settles over the room like dust on forgotten glass. The candlelight flickers faintly, its glow stretched thin, while the mirrors drift in slow, aimless spirals- caught in a dance too tired to finish. Time feels distant, blurred at the edges, as if the moment has been gently lifted out of its place and left to float. His anger lingers just echoing softly, like grief with nowhere to go, a question no one knows how to answer.

“...I remember wakin’ up hungry and alone.”

You and Crowley both jump. You had actually forgotten Grim was there until that very moment, and it seems like the bird did too. You listen to him in silence.

“It was real cold. I was waitin’ out there for someone to come and get me for ages. But hey. I’m a forward-facin’ guy anyway!” Grim spreads his paws, putting on a smile that seems to brighten the room. “The future’s way cooler than the past! Especially ‘cause I’m gonna be a rich and powerful sorcerer! Then we can all stay together, and be happy, and I can keep my Henchhuman safe… and you too, I guess?”

You’re not sure how to respond to that, but tears well in your eyes. Leave it to Sparky to get you emotional.

Crowley tears his eyes away from the little monster, flexing his hand. His heart feels heavy- this is overcomplicating itself. He worked for this for years- he needs to stay focused. He can’t start getting sentimental over the two freeloaders staying in his house.

“What a noble wish.” Crowley plasters on a smile and spreads his arms, batting his eyes to blink back the tears before either of you notice them. “Let’s all put our best foot forward, shall we?”

“...I’m sorry.” You peep. Crowley probably hates you now.

“...don’t be.” Crowley assures you, avoiding ē̴̤͍͙̩͔̇̆̌͝͝y̶͎̝̟̤̙̱̔̚͝͝e̸͚̖̞̯͂̃̾́͗̅ ̶̝̜̙̞͙̜̚c̵̛̗̺̩̊̈́͌̉̚o̸̝͉͊ñ̶̨̘̩͚̈t̵̰͇̼͓̙̂̋͒̚̕a̴̢̛͇̪̜̅̒͠ç̵̘̿͊͛̔̌̕t̴͎̭̉̈́̽̆͘͘, and picks up the staff. “Very well done. You’ve completed over half your heists now!”

You look over to the Little Mermaid mirror and slump. “The blot-”

“Don’t worry about that now.” Crowley pats your head, feeling steady enough to look at you. “Go sleep, and I’ll make you some food when you wake. We can talk about everything later- we have all the time in the world.”

***

“Your Majesty!” A guard runs in. “The Royal Scepter! It’s missing!”

King Yensid stands, whipping his head around to the soldier. “What?”

“It’s gone!”

Yensid bursts past the guard, robes whipping behind him, and sprints through the halls without slowing. He reaches the staff’s chamber and slams the door open- then stops cold. It’s gone. His worst fear is confirmed.

“Your Majesty!” the soldier calls, charging after him- and crashes right into an invisible magical barrier. He bounces off and lands flat on his back with a groan. Yensid jogs back, wincing.

“You can’t enter that room.” The King explains. “Only someone with royal blood can enter- meaning only one other person could have entered that room.”

“You mean-” the guard gasps. “His Highness?”

“Send a letter out to the captain of the guard and our top soldiers.” Yensid’s hands shake as he grips the shoulders of the guard, who looks terrified. “I don’t know what’s going on, but the safety of the Kingdom relies on it.”

***

You sleep. Hard. Eventually you awaken, but you still can’t bring yourself to move. You clutch your teddy bear Grim in your arms and lie there, exhausted.

“Psst.” You hear Grim whisper a while later. “Henchhuman, are you awake?”

“Yep.” You groggily reply, popping the ‘p.’

“I’m hungry.”

You lie there for another moment to gather your energy before sitting up and throwing the covers off of you. Grim scampers out of your arms and down the stairs as you pad along behind him, still in your silk garments.

“The vampire has risen from the dead!” Crowley beams as you walk in.

You give him a look. “Shut it.”

He laughs. “I’m just preparing some tea- what do you fancy to eat?”

“Something filling,” you say with a sigh, slumping into the nearest chair at the kitchen table as Grim claims the seat beside it.

Crowley claps his hands, and the kitchen explodes into motion- pans flipping, knives chopping, spices twirling through the air. It’s like a scene from Beauty and the Beast, minus the singing teapots. Content that dinner is on its way, Crowley takes a seat opposite you, expression soft but searching.

“Why don’t you fill me in on how it went?”

You both apprise him of all the details, only briefly pausing your tale to allow Crowley to get up and make tea. You disclose to him all of the details- your unruly arrival, Jamil, your lessons, Kalim, the night of the flying carpet, the lamp, and your departure. By the end of your tale, Crowley's claws are furiously tapping the table in a mismatched rhythm and his eye is twitching.

“Jamil did what to you?”

You had given him a very varnished version of the tale- you were too embarrassed to give him a scene by scene replay. However, he had definitely gotten the gist of it.

“Scoundrels…” He mutters. “Rapscallions… Knaves… men these days…”

You deadpan. “Glad to see you’re so invested in my dating life.” You deadpan.

“She also had a thing for Azul.” Grim blabs, shooting you a mischevious look.

“Sparky!”

“What?” Crowley looks aghast.

“Yeah well, Sparky’s been eating rocks!” You proclaim, pointing at him.

“No fair!” Grim bats your hand away and leaps up onto the table closer to you.

“Was too!” You poke him.

“Was not!” He swats it away, both paws up in a position similar to a cat’s.

“Was too!” You poke him.

“Was not!” He bats your hand again, and you bat it right back. The two of you start slapping your hands up against each other, leaning your faces back to avoid being hit whilst continuing your dramatic chorus of immature verbal exchange.

“Enough, both of you!” Crowley stands up and puts his hands on his hips. “If you both have so much energy after your heist you can go do the next one straight after dinner!”

“Aww…” You both pout.

Crowley waves his hands and the prepared plates of food fly over onto the table in front of you. “Now eat up- it’s important to keep a balanced diet. No more rocks.”

“Oh!” You run over to your bag, which waits patiently at the bottom of the staircase, and rustle through it. “I got a mijwiz!”

“A what?”

“An instrument!” You give him a toot. “And I stole some of the music sheets!”

“In that case, would you give me the honour of playing something?” Crowley asks.

You look away shyly. “I’m not that good.”

“I’d still love to hear.”

You hum contemplatively. “Maybe when I learn my first song.”

“She got really into it.” Grim explains, digging into his food. “But she also did some reading and writing practice too.”

“I can write my name now!” You announce, rifling through the bottom of your bag to find the paper as proof.

Crowley blinks. “You couldn’t write your name?”

“Huh?” You halt, looking over at him. Immediately, you flush red. “...I thought you knew.”

“No,” Crowley stands and walks closer. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” You avert your eyes, unable to look at him any longer. A familiar shame reaches your face, burning. Crowley doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

You peek up at him, expecting scorn. Instead, his eyes seem to go through you- distant, somewhere else entirely.

You hope it’s not because of pity- you’re not dumb. At least, you don’t think so.

He blinks after a minute, suddenly aware of your gaze. His eyes harden and his mask falls back into place. Whatever you saw moments ago vanishes- a secret meant to stay buried in the past.

“Finish the heists.” Crowley speaks as if he’s promising this to himself as much as he’s promising it to you. “Then I will personally find you a teacher.”

“Oh,” you blink, taken aback. “You don’t have to-”

“You have my word.” Crowley looks at you. “Diamonds are rare and precious- so rare that untrained eyes will often overlook them. People spend years searching, but most stones are just rocks. Many will fall through the cracks, but they are unbreakable. Now that one as radiant as yourself has been found, it deserves the opportunity to be polished so that it may not just sparkle, but shine. You, my dear, truly are a diamond in the rough.”

***

After dinner, you change out of your silk garments and head to the mirror chamber.

“For your next heist, you will be stealing the Chest for Beating Hearts inside of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.”

“I miss when the villain’s didn’t have magic.” You let out a sigh, eyes drifting to the Alice in Wonderland and Lion King mirrors that are swirling with ink. Your eyes drift to The Little Mermaid’s pool churns with that same black colour. Your gut twists. “Then again, I suppose the result wasn’t any different.”

“Keep faith.” Crowley pats your head. “It will all be alright.”

“If you say so.” You sigh and fiddle with your bracelet. “Anything in particular I should know?”

“I think you’ve become quite experienced with this now,” Crowley explains. “Your knowledge of these mirrors has likely surpassed my own. Tell me, is there anything that you need?”

“Uhh…” You think for a moment, but shake your head. “It’s hard to say, since the stories are so unpredictable on the other side.”

“I understand.” Crowley nods. “One other thing. Y/n… how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” You tell him. “Look, I’d rather not-”

“Then we will not dwell on it.” Crowley sighs, retracting his hand. “But… if you- about your magic…”

“I’m fine, Crowley. Really.”

You can tell he’s unconvinced, but lets the subject drop. “Alright. Be safe.”

“I will. Ready, Sparky?”

“Yep!” Grim nods, scampering toward the ornate frame, which has an ornate peacock resting on the top and sides decorated with feathers. “Let’s do this!”

“See you on the other side.” You turn toward Crowley and give him a wave.

He waves back. “See you on the other side.”

Crowley watches you step into the pools and disappear, Grim scampering after you. Once alone, he nearly screams.

He can’t give up. Not after this long.

But…

No.

He’ll just have to find a way to do it all.

He leaves the Mirror Chamber slowly, the image of your eyes looking into his following him like a shadow he can’t shake.

***

“We have the prisoner, Sultan.”

Kalim stands up from his throne. “Bring him in.”

Jamil’s boots skid across the floor as he’s forced in, held tightly by guards on either side. His eyes burn with resentment when they lock on Kalim, magic lamp resting comfortably in his hands.

“Release him.”

Jamil is dropped onto the floor with a thud. He growls in anger, glaring at the Sultan, who doesn’t spare him a glance.

Kalim turns to his guard. “Leave us.”

“What?” The guard pulls back in shock. “But Your Highness, he-”

“Leave. Us.”

The guard looks at Jamil, as if accessing how fast it would take to hold him down again if it was deemed necessary. Still, he gives the Sultan a hesitant bow.

“Men!” He leads them out and the doors shut, leaving the two men alone in the light of the setting sun.

Jamil is the first to break the silence, letting out a self deprecating chuckle. “What is this? Are you here to order my execution?”

“No.” Kalim doesn’t move.

Jamil stands, looking at him in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re about to give me some speech about how we’re friends and can get through anything together, is it?”

Kalim doesn’t respond, eliciting a laugh from his former Vizier.

“You’re kidding.” Jamil narrows his eyes and spreads his arms. “Do you understand anything, Kalim? You’re a thoughtless, sloppy, idiotic, clumsy, ludicrously oblivious, arrogant, indelicate, pampered, little rich boy!”

Kalim descends the stairs, coming closer.

“Who in their right mind would ever be your friend? You’re a-”

The sound of skin hitting skin echoes across the throne room.

Jamil stands frozen, watching Kalim with mouth agape and eyes wide. He reaches a hands up to his swiftly bruising face, mind racing to catch up to what is happening. His former friend stands back, satisfied. A trickle of blood runs from his knuckle and drops to the floor.

“Who would be my friend, you ask?” Kalim asks, voice eerily calm. “Y/n would. After all,” He reminds him, taking one step closer. “She picked me in the end, not you.”

Kalim watches anger fill his old friend’s eyes, knowing he can’t refute it.

You had chosen to release him, not aid Jamil. You hadn’t truly been on his side all along. You are good, he knows it.

He remembers how pretty you looked on that balcony with that flower, the light shining on your face in such a way that made you look like an angel.

He has already banished Ashir- you may have been working with Jamil at that moment, but you had also worked with the Kingdom’s best interests in mind. He is irresponsible and a liability- even Zahra is coming around. A shame, since she had finally found a suitor she was interested in. However, it was a testament to your intelligence.

Beauty and brains. God, you are perfect. He knew it from the moment he first laid eyes on you to the last. Even when he thought you’d betrayed him…

He’d still loved you. That’s why it hurt. He couldn’t blame you for being angry. Just like he can’t blame Jamil.

He wasn’t wrong, much to Kalim’s regret. But that doesn’t mean he could just forgive him, either. Not when the image of you sat on his lap is so clearly burned into his mind.

But you had disappeared, and now he had no way of finding you. He had asked the genie, but had instead received the most earth-shattering of answers.

“I can’t bring her back.” The Genie had explained sadly. “I don’t know where she’s gone, but she’s not of this world- and I can’t bring back the dead.”

Kalim’s heart stopped, the words ringing in his ears. No.. You couldn’t be. “She’s dead?”

“See- there’s the thing.” The Genie explains. “Rule number 1, you can’t wish for more wishes. Rule number 2, I can’t make anyone fall in love. And rule number 3, I can’t bring anyone back from the dead- that is, anyone not of this world.”

Kalim’s mind reels. “Not of this world? You mean-”

“I don’t know where’s she’s gone.” The Genie shrugs, looking just as confused at it all. “This has never happened before in the history of ever! And I would know- I’ve been around a long time. But she’s not dead, and she’s not of this world. She’s… somewhere else entirely.”

You mentioned someone was forcing your hand- no one should be in that position. You should be safe, warm, and loved.

Kalim takes a deep breath, looking back at Jamil. “I bet that bothers you, right? You said it yourself- it would only be her.”

Jamil stares at him for a moment, seething with rage. Then he begins to laugh, a loud, unrelenting cackle that makes his whole body shake.

Kalim remains still, watching him.

“So,” Jamil grins and runs a hand down his face. “This is what you’ve been like all along. You should have just shown me this side of you from the start- maybe I actually would have respected it.”

“She’s in trouble.”

“What?” Jamil’s face falls as he steps closer. “How?”

“I don’t know.” Kalim shakes his head. “But she’s not in our world anymore- but she’s not dead.”

“She’s somewhere else?” Jamil’s eyes widen.

Kalim nods, looking at him slowly. “Do you know a way to find her?”

Jamil can only look at him in shock for a moment, realization dawning on him. “Are you serious? How dumb-”

“You’re more experienced with magic than anyone else in the land.” Kalim explains. “And I have a genie. You work under me to save her, or I can have you executed when the sun rises. Which is it going to be?”

Jamil watches him for a moment before presenting him with a smirk. “So you want some sort of unholy alliance?”

“A strategic partnership.” Kalim confirms, holding out his hand. “For her sake. So what do you say?”

Jamil stares at him a moment longer before slowly outstretching his hand, a wry smile on his lips. “You can dress it up however you like, but that won’t change what it is. You’ve got a deal, Kalim. Hope you don’t end up regretting it.”

Kalim rolls his eyes. “Your care is touching.”

And just like that, their relationship begins anew. Kalim can’t help but feel satisfied with the arrangement- Jamil no longer has to hide his true feelings, and Kalim no longer has to rely on someone who laughs at him behind his back.

For the first time, he sees something different in Jamil’s eyes- something new. Its not r̸̢̖͓̤̠̼͆́̀̈́̃̐ẻ̷͈̥̮̏͜s̸̩̱̮̩̹̈́e̸̹͓͇̪̋̅̂͠n̷̛̖̼̎̀̀̑̍ť̵̤̾̏̋m̸̬͗̾͝e̷̝̜͖͈͛̐̽̓̒n̵̥̤̈́̾́̈́͠t̶̳̭̳͈̑,̵̜̣̠̝̇̃̓͆́̀ not obligation, but respect.

Somehow, some good had come out of this. Their relationship is small, but real. Something that can grow. And to think- none of it would have been possible without you.

You really are one of a kind.

Kalim rubs the lamp, blue smoke rising out of the opening. The genie appears, excitedly rubbing his hands together.

“Hey there, ‘Kal! How ya’ doin’? Ready to make your next wi-” Genie falls off when he sees Jamil standing there, watching him with a smirk. Like a snake. The Genie’s stomach drops.

For the first time in 10,000 years, the ancient spirit wished to go back inside the lamp.

Chapter Text

N/c/t/y/n = Name close to your name

You stand against the wall awkwardly, uncomfortable in the unusual environment. Nobles twirl across the dance floor and music plays, the joyous sound of laughter filling the room. You’ve snuck inside a noble’s house to attend a Concord Gala, and steal the valuables within their estate.

A stranger bumps into you, causing the full glasses of champagne on your tray to wobble precariously.

“My apologies,” he doesn’t spare you a second glance.
You catch the flutes, jaw tightening for just a second before you smoothen your expression. At least he was quick to apologize. Still though, this is the second time tonight. If you’re not careful, you’ll be drenched before the evening’s through.
You glance over at Odin, who is also wearing a servant’s uniform. You aren’t sure where exactly he got them from, but you do appreciate their deep pockets. However, by now Odin was supposed to go find an empty room for you both to raid.
So why is he still talking to two noble girls?

You can’t help but feel bitter when he makes them laugh. Don’t they have some pony to ride? Doesn’t he have overpriced crackers to hand out?

That’s when one of them places a hand on his arm. You can’t help it: a lump forms in your throat. You look away and blink back your tears. You swallow, but it’s like eating stone. The echo within your heart sings mournfully.

Her hair is soft and silky, and styled to perfection. Her hands must be smooth—free of the scrapes, scars, and calluses that mark yours. Her makeup is undoubtedly flawless, and her dress stunning, perfectly in step with the latest fashions. She’s smart, educated, and refined.

Everything you’re not.

Why would he look at a girl who’s lower than the servant she’s p̶̰̼̈́͝r̶̟̿͜e̷̡̡͑͐t̷̡́͝e̴̤͌ṅ̸̞̠̈d̷̹͆ì̴͉n̶̞͋͘g̵̟̠̈̐ to be when he could have a lady?

You put the tray down on the edge of a random table and race outside, unable to watch any longer. You need fresh air. This is ridiculous. You have a mission to complete.

Why does everything have to hurt so much?

You look up at the night sky and take a deep breath, letting the cool breeze pass over your skin. The second star to the right was supposed to be your Neverland…

But wishing on a star is just for kids.

“Are you alright, Miss?” A voice asks, coming from the stairs to the garden beside you.

“I’m fine.” You shove the concern away, not bothering to actually look at the stranger. “Just needed some air.”

“Are you well?” You hear the person come closer, voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine!” You snap, just wanting to be left alone. You’re too tired for this. “So you can go back to the party and do your job-” You falter, your gaze finally shifting- and something horrifying becomes clear at once. The man’s attire is far too elegant, too deliberate, to belong to a mere servant. You swallow. “My apologies-”

“Don’t.” The man waves you off. “It’s alright.”
You look at him for a moment. Even in the dim light, he’s clearly handsome- the starlight almost seems to make him glow. This only makes things more confusing. The whole point of Concord Galas is for nobles to find marriage candidates. You tilt your head. “Why aren’t you, you know. Inside?”
The man gives you a smile. It’s radiant- princely. “I just needed a moment myself.”

“Ah.” You nod to yourself and look back out at the garden. “I see.”

There’s a pause. You expect him to go back inside, but he doesn’t. He comes and leans on the rail beside you, staying a respectful distance away. “What’s your name, Miss?”

Miss? You can’t help but give him a look. You’ve never had anyone call you that before. “It’s not important.”

“I disagree.”

You look at him in disbelief. What is he playing at? “Look, I don’t really want to be here in the first place. It’s late, I’m not having a good day, and I’m grumpy. You’ll find better company inside.”

“Grumpy?” He snorts, a playful smile on his lips. “Good. I was worried I’d have to pretend to be charming. Now I can be insufferable instead.”

“Who even are you, anyway?” You ask, squinting at him. “Your face looks familiar.”

His eyebrows shoot up in shock and amusement. “You don’t know?”

“Well, sorry I don’t know the name of every noble in the Kingdom. Let me guess, your father will be hearing about this?”

“My father is the King.”

“What.”

Oh bother. No wonder he looks so familiar- his face is literally on the coin!

He laughs at your expression. “My my, not so high and mighty now, are we?”

“You’re the Prince?!”

“Prince Elson.” He introduces himself, holding out his hand. “And once again; you are?”

You stare at him for a moment before hesitantly shaking his hand. “You know, you’re a whole lot less… perfect than I expected.”

“Oh?” Elson pulls his hand back and props his elbow on the banister, resting his cheek against his palm as he looks at you. “How so?”

“You’re a lot more annoying.”

He barks out a laugh. “And you’re an honest one.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.” His smile stretches across his face like sunlight sliding across the floor in the afternoon. “Not at all.”

You hum look away, back inside at the ball behind you. Warm golden light pours from the room, contrasting with the cool moonlight in the gardens outside. It’s so much louder in there.

“Hey,” Elson calls your attention. “What if we… didn’t go back to the party? Just for a bit?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What would we do?”

“What would you want to do?”

You think for a second. You really shouldn’t, but you find Elson… easy to be around. Like wrapping yourself in an old blanket you’d forgotten you liked- something familiar to keep the cold out. Besides… it’s not like Odin’s in a hurry. You push away your bitterness and turn to Elson, sticking your nose in the air dramatically.

“I want you to go in and bring me only the fanciest of desserts from the table.”

He snorts. “How demanding.”

“But of course. It’s an order!”

“And after that?”

You think for a moment. “We could eat in the gardens and just… you know. Talk?”

Elson gives you a boyish grin and pushes himself off the railing. “As you wish, M’lady.”

Of all the ways to enter a fairytale, arriving just in time to watch a stranger commit suicide isn’t exactly the ideal. Yet, here you are, standing in the middle of a place you barely have time to take in before you’re sprinting toward a large stone wall, a random girl precariously balanced on the top.

Your heart beats in your chest like it’s trying to jump right out of it, your breath becomes laboured, though you can’t tell if it’s from the anxiety or the sprint you’re taking to reach her. Your eyes are fixed on the wall, and you’re screaming at her like the world around you is burning.

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait! Stop!”

The girl’s head whirls around, eyes wide and frantic, like she was caught red handed- or didn’t expect anyone to see her at all. She doesn’t move- just stares, frozen. Her eyes well with tears and she splutters her words. “Please wait- you don’t understand!”

You don’t listen, too busy scanning the wall for a way up, wondering how she got there. You finally spot it: a well groomed, purebred, white horse with ribbons tied in bows along its mane. It doesn’t move when you frantically grab hold of the saddle and stuff one foot into the stirrup, so you grab either side of the saddle and try to hoist yourself up. The saddle shifts to your surprise, and the horse whinnies and moves away, catching your foot as it goes, and you are tugged to the ground.

“Henchhuman!”

In your panic you honestly forgot Grim was there with you, and remain only vaguely aware of him, though he’s freeing your foot from the stirrup and allows you to stand. You thank him briefly and position yourself once again beside the horse like a soldier preparing to charge.

Foot in stirrup, one hand on saddle and the other hand on the horse, you jump and hoist yourself up onto the horse’s back, and with no regard for your own personal safety move into a standing position using the wall for balance. You hook your hands over the top of the bricks and, as you aren’t strong enough to simply pull yourself up, swing and hook your foot upwards. You pull yourself to straddle the top of the wall and sit up to face the girl, breathing heavily, and she sits there, stunned and with tears in her eyes, watching you with the fear of a wounded animal.

“Hey, listen, there’s no need to be scared-”

“Please, don’t come any closer!” She begs, a sob wracking through her body, despair threading her tone.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay…” You smile gently, attempting to control your breathing, and try to reassure her. “What’s your name?”

Tears stream down her face, hot and unrelenting, as she whimpers an answer. “Flora…”

“Hey, that’s a pretty name!” You scooch a little closer, only causing her to move back. You stop. “I’m Y/n, and this is Sparky.” You point to him, still watching you from the ground.

“It’s G̷r̸i̸m̴.̵”̴ ̴G̷r̶im refutes dryly, though his eyes are wide and cautious, examining Flora for any sign of movement.

“Right, Grim.” You nod. “And we’re gonna help you, okay?”

She sniffs. “Help me?”

“Yep!” You smile. “Just stay right there and I’ll come closer-” you put your hand on the side of the wall to pull yourself closer.

“Wait!” She yelps. “Stop!”

“Huh?”

Your hand slips.

With a shriek, you go tumbling down over the side of the wall and land in the bushes at the bottom like a couch being evicted from a third-floor window.

“Ow!” You claw your way free, bleeding and stuck in thorns, because naturally, the bushes had to be roses. “You know what? My bad. This is lower than I thought it would be.”

“Henchhuman!” Grim shrieks from the other side of the wall.

“I’m fine, Sparky!”

“Huh?” Flora blinks at you. “Lower? What did you- did you think I was trying to jump?” She gasps in horror.

“...maybe a little?”

She brings her hands up to her mouth, tears welling up once again in her eyes. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to cause any trouble! I just heard singing and wanted to see who it was! I thought it could be Vil!”

“Vil?”

“The King!” She cries, bursting into tears. “My fiance!”

“The King is your fiance?” You yelp. Given the pattern of these twisted tales, you wouldn’t be surprised if the King was actually the Queen. Poor girl…

And poor you- you really needed to get out of here fast before anyone saw you. Sure, you’d have to get back inside and steal the chest eventually, but honestly? This whole chatting with the villain strategy hasn’t exactly been working out. Maybe it was time to keep things simple: break in under the cover of night, dodge the guards, search every single room in the palace until you find the chest, sidestep whatever defenses (magical or otherwise) are waiting for you, grab the item, and then retrace your steps very carefully before sunrise.

Okay, maybe not quite as simple as you’d hoped. But still — the last thing you need is to get arrested for trespassing. You just need to get out of here before anyone else sees you and hope Flora is too mortified to tell anyone else what had happened. Simple!

“Hello?” A smooth, melodic voice asks. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here.”

You turn around and your stomach drops. Just when you thought this couldn’t get any worse, quite possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen appears right behind you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who he is: lips red as blood, hair black as ebony, skin white as snow. If this is this place’s “Snow White,” that means Flora must be their version of the Prince, which means you have ROYALLY messed up the plot. Again. Dang it.

“Oh, sorry!” You apologize, scanning the area for an exit. “My friend here just heard someone singing with a beautiful voice- was that you?”

“Oh!” He blushes and bashfully averts his eyes. “Yes, that was. I’ll try not to disturb you again.”

“Oh, no!” You shake your head. “You didn’t disturb us at all!”

“If anything, I should apologize.” Flora sniffs between tears, though she seems to be calming down. “I didn’t mean to cause such a terrible amount of trouble…”

“Oh, no, you're good. Really!” You wave your hands around frantically, not wanting to get blamed for single handedly ruining the Princess’s self esteem. Not that this seemed like something one would likely be blamed for, but it would be just like you to get arrested for something ridiculous.

The boy smiles. “There’s no trouble at all, but I must insist you both leave. After all, I have to finish my chores. I’m so sorry.”

“No, there’s no need to apologize!” You insist. “Either of you. I shouldn’t have stuck my nose where it didn’t belong, so this is on me. But I will be leav-.”

“No, I shouldn’t have scared you so.” Flora whimpers. “Thank you for coming to rescue me.”

“Rescue?” The boy asks.

“I thought she was going to jump.” You sigh, averting your gaze to hide your reddening cheeks. “I didn’t realise the wall was so low.”

“Oh, my goodness!” The boy gasps. “How brave of you! My name is Neige- and yours?”

“Really not important.” You keep scanning the area for an exit and pray to any god that is listening that this “Vil” character isn’t watching. You turn to face Niege. “Listen, since no one’s jumping off of any walls-”

“Oof!”

“Dear god.” You whirl around, watching in horror as Flora stands from her landing position. She grimaces, tears filling her eyes.

“Ow!”

“Did you land on your knees?!”

“Yes!” Flora whines, looking at you like a child who scraped herself on the playground. “Y/n, it hurts!”

“Oh my!” Neige runs over and scoops her up into his arms. “Are you alright, Princess?”

“Princess…” You feel as though you’re watching your executioner pick up their axe. At least her Niege came to help her- hopefully this romantic scene is a good sign for the story?

“Y/n!” she calls you over, tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t move my leg!”

Your blood runs cold as you rush to her side and Neige sets her down one the steps into the castle. “You can’t move your leg?!”

“No!” She cries. “It hurts too much!”

Without a second, you push up her skirts to expose her leg. If it’s broken it needs to be tended to immediately, and you’re already running possible methods of stabilising it through your head. Flora gasps, and Neige practically falls backwards in shock.

“Y/n!” They both gasp.

You deadpan. “You scraped your knees. They might bruise, but you’ll be able to walk.”

“You there! Trespasser!” You hear a voice shout. You’re grabbed before you can react, and Flora pushes down her skirts.

“Oh mon Dieu! To reveal a lady’s legs- have you no shame?” You look at the man addressing you as the guards pull you away from the Princess, finding a blonde haired man with a large hat glaring at you with horror. “Princesse des Fleurs, are you alright?”

She stammers. “I-I’m fine-”

“Roi de Neige, please go back to your duties. I shall escort the lady to her chambers- guards, take her to Vil.”

“Oh bother…” You mutter as you’re carried away. At least Grim is still safely on the other side of the wall- though it may be too much to expect he can get you out.

This is so totally not your fault too! This is what you get for trying to be a hero. Honestly, you should just become a mean, selfish person. Between you trying to save a life and helping Azul’s business, doing good deeds hasn’t exactly worked out for you.

Scratch that, people aren’t working out for you. You should just get a random cabin in the woods and become a recluse. Maybe get a few cats to keep you company- god knows they like you!

Are you seriously about to get executed over this? You haven’t even been in this story for an hour! That can’t be what’s happening, right? Surely not. You aren’t about to die, are you?

Then again, you’re more annoyed than scared right now. Where’s your lawyer, anyway?

You’re not exactly sure what you’re dealing with yet- you strongly doubt he’s going to be magnanimous… but maybe you can reason with him?

In your case, you suppose ignorance really is bliss.

***

The Guard steps into his house and stretches his tired muscles. He’s grateful to finally be free of the heavy suit of armor. After all, being in charge of the King’s army is a weighty responsibility- literally.

“Daddy!” His daughter runs up to him, arms raised. “You’re home!”

Happily, he lifts her up into his arms and gives her a hug. “Heya, Princess. How are you?”

“I’m good!” She cheers.

“Daddy!” his son calls out, waddling into the room. He toddles closer, gripping his father’s leg for support, one hand reaching up eagerly. The Guard bends down and scoops him into his free arm, lifting him up alongside his sister. The boy giggles again. “Daddy!”

He kisses the top of their heads. “Where’s your mother?”

“In your room! Daddy, come see what we made today!” The daughter says, pointing to the other room. The Guard bends down and sets them on the floor, patting the top of their heads.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute. I’m going to go talk with your mother first.”

“Aww…” His son whines.

His daughter puffs out her cheeks and crosses her arms. “Okay, but you gotta promise to be quick. Okay?”

The guard guffaws at his daughter’s demands. “Alright, I promise.”

“Okay!” The girl agrees, placated. “Come on Milo, let’s go.”

The Guard leaves the children behind and makes his way up the estate’s grand staircase to his room. Gently, he opens the door and spots his beautiful wife seated at her vanity, brushing her hair. Quietly, he steps forward, slipping up behind her. Then, with a grin, he wraps his arms around her waist and presses a shower of kisses along her neck.

His Wife squeals. “Solan! Stop it!”

He grins into her skin, taking in her perfume, and gives her a loving squeeze. “Hello my love.”

“Solan! Honestly!” She shakes her head and turns back to the mirror. “You messed my hair up.”

“You always look perfect, Aurina.”

She hums softly, picking up her brush and running it through her long, flowing hair. Solan settles on the vanity bench beside her, watching his wife preen like a graceful bird. He feels lucky- truly lucky- to have met such an incredible woman. He’s never known anyone as wonderful as her. Their children are the light of his life. This is what he’s protecting as a guard: the lives of his family. His beautiful wife and their kids- his whole world.

What about the child he left behind?

He swallows. Hard. He needs to stop thinking about that.

“You look tense.” His wife notes, eyeing him as she works.

“It’s nothing.”

She hums. “If you say so. By the way, I’m almost out of this hair oil. Pick some up next time you’re out.”

“Sure.” Solan nods, picking up the bottle to check the label. It was certainly an expensive brand, but if that’s what she liked it then that’s what she’d get. Happy wife, happy life, right?

Aurina kisses his cheek. “You’re wonderful… makes me proud to call you my husband.”

Solan’s heart flutters and the butterflies he’s had ever since he met her bloom in his stomach. His face grows warm, and he feels like a teenager all over again.

“I’m glad.”

“By the way, the Whitewoods bought another property recently.” Aurina casually informs him, accessing herself in the mirror. “Some chateau down by the sea. Darling, why don’t we get one of those?”

“We could…” Solan considers. “But it’s a lot of money.”

“But darling, we have loads of it.” Aurina points out. “What’s the point in having money if we don’t spend it? It’ll be great for Rose and Milo too. Just imagine, the four of us vacationing on the beach! The kids can play on the sand and in the water, doing… collecting seashells and whatnot, midnight swims, just the two of us…” she comes closer and brings her lips to his ear, placing her hand on his thigh, “no swimsuits required…”

Solan stiffens under the teasing lilt in her tone as Auerlia pulls away, turning her attention back to the assortment of vials on her dresser. She picks up one and checks the label, angling it in the mirror as she spritzes a healthy portion of it on herself. Solan, still distracted, swallows.

“I suppose I could look into it…” He mutters. “But… we don’t even go to the beach.”

“If we had a property, we’d have a good reason too.” She points out. “For the family. Don’t you love us?”

“I do!” Solan hastily reassures her. “More than anything. I’ve just… had a long couple of days. But I’ll look into it.”

“Well, make sure you’re getting paid for your time.” Aurelia comes closer. “If you can’t be here with me and the kids, you’d better be compensated.” She looks up at him through her lashes with those large doe eyes of hers that never fail to take his breath away, and wraps her arms around him. “We miss you, you know.”

“I know.” Solan swallows. “I miss you too.”

That’s right. He needs to worry about the wife he has. The kids he has.

Not the child he doesn’t.

***

“So let me get this straight.” A very unimpressed card soldier with a heart painted on his face blinks twice, trying to process the madness his superior just explained. “We’re trying to catch who would be Wonderland’s greatest criminal if she were here… with Wonderland’s greatest criminal that is.”

“That’s correct.” Cater sighs, twisting a lock of hair between two fingers.

Ace slouches. “This sounds like a pain in the rear end, if you ask me.”

“Maybe it won’t be too bad,” Deuce reasons. “Maybe Riddle will become friends with Cheetah?”

“It’s Che’nya, Juice. And what are the odds of that happening?”

“Well, guess you two’ll be the first to find out!” Cater strikes a pose, bringing two fingers in front of his head in a peace sign. “You two have a new special duty!”

“Oh no…” Ace sighs, shaking his head. “What now?”

“Ace!” Deuce hisses.

“Follow me. It has to do with Y/n, though.”

Ace’s ears perk up. To be honest, he kind of assumed Cater was just filling him in with “the deets,” but hey, he isn’t complaining! Because, come on.

You’re insane.

Yet somehow, you’re alive. Which is impressive by itself, to be honest. Especially with the way you were talking to Riddle. Man, he had to keep himself from bursting out laughing in the middle of the trial from your ridiculous story- which definitely would’ve ended with his head on a slab.

But you didn’t just live. You escaped, and made a fool out of everyone in the process.

But it isn’t just the sheer craziness of your two day vacation that keeps you on his mind. You also saved his life. And he isn't about to forget that. Especially not when you did it so easily.

It wouldn’t have made any difference in your plan either way. You just did it because you wanted to. Because even though you’re a criminal mastermind…

Deep down, you care.

Ugh, gross. He almost shudders from that sappy thought alone.

Sure, you’re pretty. He had noticed it when you first arrived. But you’re smart, funny, and kind too.. And you really know how to stick it to Riddle. T̴h̶a̷t̵’̴s̷ ̸a̶ ̶h̴u̸g̴e̸ ̴p̶l̵u̶s̶ ̵i̷n̵ ̸h̴i̷s̷ ̷b̵o̸o̴k̸.̴

He thought he'd never be into your type, but maybe he was wrong? You seemed so sweet and innocent! But good god, you’re giving everyone a run for their money. So hey, if the current prerogative is hunting you down, he’s all for it. He’s not sure how to convince Riddle not to kill you yet, but in the worst case scenario he’s sure the two of you can find some way to run off together. After all, between your smarts and his unbeatable charisma, you two would be unstoppable!

Besides, he’s not about to let you die. He’s gotta repay your favor, you know? Look at you, making an honest man out of him or something!

Cater stops outside a room with double heart-shaped doors and turns to his juniors, pulling Ace from his thoughts. “Just keep an eye on him and keep him happy, will you? I’ll be back in the evening.”

“Huh?” Deuce blinks. “Wait, you don’t mean-”

“Have fun~!” Cater sings, and saunters away. Ace’s blood runs cold. Did Riddle know he was secretly dissing him last night in the kitchen? Is this all a trick? How is he supposed to keep the King happy? He’s never happy!

Deuce takes a deep breath. “Guess we’d better go in.”

“...right.” Ace takes a step back, and allows his friend to go in first. After all, he was just being a good friend! If Riddle was giving out tarts (he most definitely wasn’t), Deuce should get the first pick!

The navy haired man takes a deep breath and opens the door, revealing who’s inside.

And it isn’t Riddle.

Che’nya lounges on a futon, happily picking at individual grapes in a bowl. His eyes light up when he sees the two card soldiers standing awkwardly in the doorway like two hiding mome raths.

“Ah, pur-fect! You there, open that window. I’m simply clawing for a breeze. And you, fetch me some more grapes.”

Ace takes a deep breath. He’s going to hate this, isn’t he?

***

“Behold! The wretched soul who dares defy the crown!”

“Behold yourself…” You mutter at the Herald. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Vil’s eyes narrow. God, he’s beautiful. His eyes are a deep purple and hair fair and well kept. You’re no poet, but you’re sure he’s got the face they write about.

He glares down at you. “Who is this unwashed spud?”

Huh?

“The trespasser you spied in the garden with Niege and Princess Flora.” A guard answers. “When we found her, she had trapped her highness on the stairs and was attempting to undress her.”

“What?” You gasp. “I wasn’t-”

Vil’s eyes widen then narrow again, as he cuts you off with biting force. “Did you think before you acted?”

You lean forward, desperate to prove your innocence. “She was in-”

“The Princess represents stability. Purity. When her skirts are lifted, order frays.”

You sink in disbelief. This isn’t fair! Vil’s making good points, but it scorns the actual facts of the situation. Why should you be punished for trying to protect the future Queen?

“First of all, I only really saw her ankle to knee-”

The guards all around you gasp, and Vil physically recoils. “A Lady’s ankles? Do you understand how scandalous this would be considered if word got out?”

“It’s her ankles!” You protest. “And she was crying!”

“She was crying yet you still continued?”

“No!” You shake your head furiously. What is happening!? “Flora fell off the wall, and injured her ankle. She was crying and wasn’t sure if she could walk, so I went to check on her to make sure it wasn’t anything serious. That’s all!”

Vil’s eyes narrow. “Let us not pretend. You, a commoner, entered my garden uninvited. You laid hands on my bride-to-be. And now, you ask for understanding when you would say anything to save your own skin?”

You hold back a scream. Yes, you would absolutely be trying to talk your way out with duplicitous words if you were guilty, but you’re actually not this time! Were you just supposed to leave the future Queen there, even if her leg was actually broken? What would he be saying then!

“What’s more, the court feeds on spectacle. They will chew her up if I don’t intervene. A Queen must stand untarnished. Elevated. Lovely. Pure. The Kingdom must believe in our fairytale. This isn’t possible if word gets out about a trespasser who was interested in the worst set of royal legs.”

You stare at him, for a moment and digest his choice of words.

“The Worst set of legs.”?

Is he saying your decision is the worst?

Or is he…

JEALOUS at the implication you are supposedly more interested in another set of legs?

You gape at the scowling King, unable to believe it. There’s no way.

Is he mad that you might think Flora’s legs are prettier than him?

Is that why he refuses to hear you out?

No. No way.

Surely not…

Right?

“I think we’re done here.” Vil announces, standing from his throne.

You want to scream and defend yourself again, but there’s no point. It’s legs versus ego now, and ego seems to be winning. “This spud’s actions are frankly, inexcusable. However, I shall be merciful with you.”

Your heart soars like a bird breaking free from its cage.

“I hereby banish you from this Kingdom.”

Your heart drops, along with your stomach. “What?”

“Leave this place, and never return.” Vil warns coldly. “If you don’t, I will have your head.”

***

“Henchhuman!” Grim sprints over to you, seeing you sprawled out on the ground after being literally tossed out of the castle. “Are you okay? What’s happenin’?”

You sluggishly lift your head off the ground, not appreciating the new ache in your neck. “Banishment.”

“Huh?” Grim looks you over as you sit up, bewildered at your response. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean,” you repeat, “we’re- well, I am banished from the Kingdom and will be executed if we don’t get going. By the way, I met the Queen! He’s a King now. Shocking, I know. Also the story might be off track already but hopefully not. Any questions?” You stand up and stretch, grateful to feel your back pop. Your stress doesn’t fade, but between the fall and manhandling your body feels like a door hinge no one’s oiled in years.

“Myah?!” Grim stares up at you in shock, processing everything you just told him. “How did that happen?!”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face as you look up at the setting sun and start to trudge off. “I’ll explain on the way. But we really do need to get going- find somewhere else and regroup. This you-know-what just became a whole lot harder.”

“Should we go find the dwarves?” Grim suggests.

You think for a moment but shake your head. “We could try, but we would be searching for a needle and a haystack. Even N-Snow White didn’t know where they were, she just stumbled upon them.”

“Well,” Grim suggests, running up beside you. “Maybe we’ll get lucky?”

You move your eyes toward the forest. It’s not like you had any better options.

“We’re never lucky. But fine. Let’s go.”

***

“But then the tailor was like, ‘we could make the skirt bigger?’ and so I obviously took him up on that- I was so excited!” Flora eagerly monologues, holding her teacup and saucer close to her chest. “Your tailor is so talented, Vil! I have no doubt he’ll make me a wedding dress that meets your expectations!”

Vil flashes her a composed smile, which immediately makes her blush. “Heh, but of course. Do you really think I would hire anybody but the best?”

“Oh, of course not!” Flora gasps. “Of course you would only pick the best Vil! I simply can’t wait for you to see me!”

Vil watches her, reddening and smiling to herself at the mere thought of their upcoming wedding. He can tell she’s picturing- though he honestly couldn’t care much less. In fact, he wouldn’t even have this tea with her if he had a choice. Alas, court politics insist upon it.

The King sips his tea and hums. He can’t believe Flora is the one he’ll have to spend his life with. She isn’t bad looking, but still nowhere as good as him. Luckily, it shouldn’t be too difficult to ignore her. She sort of reminds him of a dove- always always fluttering about, soft, quiet, and utterly defenseless. She’s sweet and innocent…

And a sheltered idiot.

“Vil?” She looks up at him shyly, blue eyes watching him through long eyelashes. Possibly her best feature, in Vil’s opinion.

He raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of his tea. “Yes?”

“Do you ever think about after we’re married?”

No.

“But of course.” Vil flashes her another brief smile. “It’s a thought I treasure greatly.”

F̷l̴o̵r̶a̵ ̸l̵o̷o̶k̶s̸ ̷d̷r̷e̷a̸m̵i̷l̷y̶ ̷t̵o̵w̸a̶r̷d̴ ̶t̵h̵e̸ ̵w̶i̵n̸d̴o̷w̷.̸ “We can eat together every night then.”

Vil’s smile tenses. “I will still have work.”

Flora turns toward him eagerly. “Yes, but when I am Queen I’ll help you with your work! Then we shall be able to spend each and every evening together!”

Well, that isn’t happening. She is a pretty little feather head, and she isn’t even the better looking one in their relationship. She wouldn’t last a day in court.

Vil purses his lips. “Perhaps.”

“What do you think our children will look like?”

He nearly chokes on his tea. Time to change the topic, quick. “How have you been faring after the incident in the garden?”

Vil watches Flora’s eyes light up to a concerning degree. Her face becomes even more flushed and her grin widens across her face. She looks as if she may cry from sheer joy. “That’s the first time you’ve ever asked how I am!”

Vil wants to groan, but he would never commit such an inelegant act in the company of others. Instead, he forces a smile. “I simply want to know how my fiancé is doing.”

Flora swoons. “Oh, Vil. You’re so kind!”

Even Vil wouldn’t describe himself like that, but whatever thought does the trick to move her mind away from children is good enough in his books.

“I’m doing well- you needn’t worry. My legs have been all bandaged up. I was a bit afraid I wouldn’t be able to walk ever again, but my nanny assured me it should only take a few days for the cuts to heal!”

Vil resists the urge to roll his eyes, maintaining a polite facade. “That’s excellent news. Rest assured, the culprit has been dealt with accordingly.”

”That’s wonderful news!” Flora claps her hands together excitedly. “Though I already knew that- Rook told me you were going to take care of her. I knew I could count on you!”

“Heh, but of course.” Vil sets his tea down. “You never have to worry about seeing her ever again.”

“What? Why?” Flora asks, blinking her large blue eyes. “Why can’t I see her again?”

“Because,” Vil explains, “she’s banished. Rest assured-”

“What?!” Flora interrupts with a gasp in horror, eyes welling with tears. Vil eyes her and prays she doesn’t start crying. “But you were supposed to take care of her! Why would you do such a thing?”

Vil stares at her for a long, confused moment. “Because she broke into my gardens, tried to indecently expose the Kingdom’s future Queen, and had you injured?”

Flora brings her hands to her mouth in horror. “Oh no! Vil, that’s not what happened at all! Oh, this is all my fault!”

Vil watches her, already feeling exhausted, as tears start to stream down her face. However, the questions forming in his head need answers. Flora jumps as he grabs his arm, and stares at her in warning.

“Flora? Explain, now.”

She hiccups. “I…”

“Flora?”

She looks away in shame. “I was trying to climb into the southern gardens.”

Vil’s eye twitches, and he can feel rage bubbling up inside of him. His grip on her tightens. “Flora, I strictly forbade you from going in there.”

“I know!” She hiccups. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I heard beautiful singing and I thought it might have been where you go to practice! I didn’t want you to feel ashamed of your voice when you hadn’t perfected a song yet, and wanted to assure you I’d love you either way! I just wanted to be close to you…”

Niege. The image of Vil’s irritating step brother flashes in his mind. That twerp just can’t keep his mouth shut, can he? Honestly, between that goody-two-shoes and this blubbering idiot they’d be perfect for each other.

“What happened then?” Vil questions, trying to pry the truth out of his sobbing fiancé. She sniffs, face growing puffy from crying.

She looks utterly revolting.

“That girl- her name is N/c/t/y/n, saw me on the wall and thought I was trying to seek my own death.”

Flora sobs again. She just can’t believe how wrong things went- you didn’t deserve any of this! Is she a terrible person? This is all her fault! You must hate her now…

“Flora,” Vil presses, voice eerily calm, but his nails are digging into the skin of her arm. “Go on.”

She lets out another sob and shakes her head. She doesn’t want to continue- she doesn’t want Vil to hate her. She doesn’t think she could bear it if he did!

“Flora!”

Another sob racks through her body like all the happiness she had ever felt inside is being released. Even though the Princess is prone to tears, Vil can’t remember the last time he saw her this upset. “I fell and scraped my knees. She was worried about me and went to check my legs to make sure I wasn’t seriously injured! That’s when Rook and the guards showed up…”

Vil’s eyes widen with shock. You were… telling the truth? He’s seen many prisoners on their knees before him, and learned that people will tell you anything if they believe it will save their own skins. However, you were devastatingly earnest.

Oh dear. This is quite the predicament, isn’t it.

Vil is a ruthless king. However, he doesn’t believe in consequence without warrant. Frankly, he considered it beneath his rule. One should earn their punishment as much as their reward, after all. As sad as you are, it seems you had tried to do a rather noble deed after all.

He releases Flora’s arm, leaving red, crescent shaped indents in her skin. Flora sobs in her seat, shaking uncontrollably. He leans back, cold eyes watching her trembling form. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Flora sniffs, trying to compose herself enough to answer. “I thought you were taking care of her!”

“I was-” He stops mid thought, running the phrase over in his head. “Flora, what do you think that means?”

“You were supposed to check her over for injuries and reward her for helping me!”

Vil deadpans. What a poor, fragile, little featherhead. So obsessed with him and caught in her own world she’s oblivious to everything happening around her. She really is exhausting to be around- he needs something else to occupy her time.

“You’re excused.” He dismisses her, standing from the table and heading to the door.

“Wha- wait! Vil!” Flora calls after him between sobs.

He doesn’t look back. He leaves the room and passes a nearby guard, giving him a strict yet cold command. “Go find the Hunter and have him meet me in my chambers.”

“Y-yes, sire.” The guard practically runs off, eager to put distance between himself and the beautiful king.

Vil marches off toward his room, a plan forming in his head. A way to kill two birds with one stone- one dove and one unruly magpie.

He’s unsurprised to find Rook already in his room when he arrives, lounging on the chaise.

“I sent people for you.”

“Ah, did you?” The Hunter asks, eyes shining with amusement. “My apologies. Should I have waited?”

The King walks toward the most inconspicuous (but still elegantly adorned) door in his room and opens it, revealing not a closet but a dimly lit staircase. It twists up toward the sky in a corkscrew like a vine that had long since died, the colour of a leaf gone brown and lit only by the torches inside, eternally burning with the unholy spirits of the damned.

Vil goes up, undeterred, aware that though he does not hear him his Hunter is close behind. The only sound is the crackling of fire like the cracking of bone and the King’s footsteps on the cold stone stairs. When he reaches the top of the steps he flings the dark blue curtains aside and steps into the tower’s room, greeted by only his reflection. He steps upon the platform in front of the mirror and stares at the glass.

Rook follows him inside and watches his King approach the mirror, raising his arms in a movement both elegant and powerful. What he’s here for he still does not know, but his King must only give him the task and he will do everything in his power to accomplish it.

“Slave in the Magic Mirror,” Vil proclaims, “come from the farthest space. Through wind and through darkness, I summon thee!”

Wind blows out from the glass, making Vil’s robes whip and flutter in the gust, writhing into shapes and shadows. Rook puts one hand on his hat to keep it from being flown away as his friend calls upon the spirit.

“Speak!” Vil commands, and the boom of thunder and flash of lightning appears within the Mirror’s glass. Fire erupts, and though they feel the surge of heat neither man feels fear. The King lowers his hands. “Let me see thy face!”

Through the flickering firelight, an ancient mask of ivory and shadow framed the mirror’s edges, its empty eyes seeming to watch the room like silent sentinels. From the glass, a low and steady voice fills the room- not with sound, but with undeniable presence. “What would thou know, my Queen?”

“Where is the girl- N/c/t/y/n?” Vil asks. The mirror remained silent for a moment.

“There is no girl named N/c/t/y/n.”

Vil rolls his eyes in disgust and lets out a long, weary sigh. “Hmph, of course she had it wrong. The girl who was banished this afternoon? Where can we find her?”

The mirror doesn’t answer right away, taking its time to curate an answer. Finally, it answers:

“Near the Edel River’s end, under the tallest fir, between the mountains of god’s sleep, is where you will find her.”

“Retrieve her.” Vil orders, turning to Rook. “And bring her back to the castle.”

“Oh mon Dieu!” Rook raises his hands in surprise. “Roi du Poison, have you changed your mind?”

“Yes.” The King nods, elegantly stepping down from the platform. “She may prove quite useful. Flora likes her, and it should keep her occupied. I intend to make this new girl a servant.”

“Ah, I see.” Rook smiles. “What a twist of fate indeed~”

“Yes.” Vil agrees. “But let me be clear. I do not trust her.”

Rook blinks, watching the King in surprise. It is unlike him to be so paradoxical.

“It is unclear why she was around the castle walls in the first place.” The King explains, looking at his friend. “There is nothing else on the Southern side of the walls except forest. However, her actions were noble.”

“So you’ll bring her back to watch her in a condensed environment.” The corners of Rook’s eyes turn upward. “I see.”

“Yes.” The King smiles. “No good deed shall go unnoticed. Keep an eye on her- and if she steps even one toe out of line…”

The Hunter raises his eyebrows in amusement. “It will be handled accordingly.”

“Good. Be off then.” Vil shoos him away and turns back to the glass.

Rook leaves the King alone with his thoughts, quietly exiting the tower. Meanwhile, Vil stares into the glass, clearing for his reflection to return. He t̷̡̮̤̯̟̩͖̍́͘ͅḩ̸̢̢̳̫͇̰̭̍̾͠į̵̡̤̻̗̋͒̐̃̽͝n̵̩̙͚͖̱̫̭̓̃̽́̃k̸̛̗̞͕̝͉͖͖͉̯̓͊̈̓̄̿̂͜s̷̭̱̦̠̘̯̻͙͕̈̾̍̑͂͐̋̎ of you, on your knees before him, e/c, h/c, and desperate.

What a truly pitiful girl.

Also, I got more FANART from Tema on Quotev!

It's so freaking cute!!!! I also couldn't believe it when they dedicated themselves to designing their interpretation of ALL the released arcs, and they all came out SO AMAZINGLY!!!

Their anatomy on the Prologue Arc is FANTASTIC, and the way they drew the necklace sort of reminds me of the necklace Esmerelda gave Quasimodo in the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Their expressions are all super cute, but I especially love the ones on the Heartslabyul one and the Scarabia one. Also their little Hawaiian like shirt for Octavinelle is such a cute interpretation! And, as I have already told them (but I will happily say it again,) I love the patterns on the Savannahclaw shawl.

Thank you so much Tema for sending this in to me! It was actually a HUGE motivator for this chapter to be honest (it's over 7000 words guys I was ready to die) because I knew I needed something good to show your work with. I really adore your art!

That's all, folks! See you in the next one!

Chapter Text

“Okay, so, would you rather: Crowley comes with us on our next heist, or Floyd?”

Grim grimaces. “At least with Crowley I might be able to learn somethin’. Floyd is just scary…”

“What, you don’t want them coming along?” You tease to keep the mood up. “Crowley would be ever so helpful, and Floyd would be so on task.”

Grim deadpans. “Sure. Anyways, would you rather plan an event for Riddle or Leona?”

“Hmm. Well,” you think aloud, “probably Leona.”

“But then you’d end up doin’ everything!”

“Yeah, but he’d probably be fine with whatever so long as he doesn’t have to do it himself. Less chance of death, y’know?”

“̴B̶o̶n̵j̵o̶u̷r̴!̵”̶ ̸A̸ ̷p̸l̴e̶a̴s̷a̵n̵t̸ voice breaks out of the silence right behind you, making you yelp and jump, spinning around to see who it is. It’s a familiar blonde- the same man with the hat who arrested you.

The blonde laughs heartily. “Did I startle you? Pardonne-moi. I’m simply too accustomed to concealing my presence as I make my approach. I am Rook Hunt, le Chasseur d’Amour. My life’s work is to seek out beauty and support it. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“You’re with Vil.” You realise, eyes widening. He is very eager to meet you- but you don’t trust the glint in his eye or arrows on his back. Heart pounding, you fumble for excuses. “I’m sorry if we’re not out of the Kingdom yet, we’re just leav-”

Rook bends down, entirely captivated by your companion and not paying the slightest mind to you. Grim leans away, unnerved, backing away from le Chasse-de-whatnot’s unrelenting grin. “How curious, a little monster.”

“That’s Sparky.” 

“The Great Grim.” “Sparky” corrects, giving you a side eye. “And I’m-”

“70 centimetres tall.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Myah?!”

“You furry friend here is 70 centimetres tall.” Rook says, looking up at you with a smile. “Curious indeed. Why, his ears are certainly something to behold, and the tail, divided like a trifurcated ribbon of darkness, and intelligent enough to talk. A creature of great mystique, no? Beaute!”

You narrow your eyes. “Why are you here?” 

Rook smiles, warm and easy. C̶o̵m̶f̶o̷r̸t̷i̷n̷g̵.̵ ̶I̵t̴ ̷d̵o̸e̵s̴n̷’̶t̷ ̷m̸a̶t̵c̶h̷ ̶t̵h̷e̷ ̴w̶o̶r̶d̸s̶ ̷t̴h̷a̸t̵ ̶c̶o̴m̸e̶ ̷o̷u̸t̷ ̸o̶f̸ ̶h̶i̷s̷ ̶m̸o̴u̴t̵h̶:̵ ̶“̴V̷i̸l̵ ̴h̸a̵s̷ o̸r̶d̵e̸r̷e̶d̷ you to come back to the palace.”

It’s like the entire forest goes silent. 

“What?” This is too good to be true. On paper it’s a present perfectly wrapped with a bow, but you get rid of the feeling that there’s an explosive packaged inside.

”Roi du Poisons has spoken with Princess Flora.” Rook explains. “She has backed the story you told, and the King has realised his egregious error. He wishes only to correct it.”

“̶O̶h̴.̴”̸ ̷Y̷o̷u̶ ̸b̷l̶i̸n̴k̸ ̵a̸s̵ ̸y̶o̸u̴ ̵p̷r̷o̶c̴e̴s̵s̷ what the Hunter just told you, reaching a different conclusion in your head.

He wants me for something.

You’re not certain how, but you have a terrible feeling this is all Niege’s fault. Sure, it might be a stretch to think a guy that attractive has fallen for you, yet after literally tumbling into his life, the suspicion refuses to leave you alone.

Is this like Rielle? You accidentally interfered with the love interest’s introduction, making Erica fall for her hero as intended but his heart was accidentally claimed by his surprising ally who helped him escape.

And if Niege likes you, then there’s a good chance the King has a target on your back.

However, if the King wanted you dead, Rook probably would have shot you by now. You eye the bow and arrow that are slung comfortably on his back, like it’s their natural place. Maybe it is. H̸e̴ ̶i̶s̸ ̸p̵r̶o̶b̵a̴b̷l̵y̸ ̸t̸h̸i̵s̵ ̵s̸t̸o̸r̵y̵’̶s̸ ̶h̸u̴n̵t̴e̷r̴,̸ ̵a̸f̷t̵e̵r̶ ̶a̶l̸l̶,̸ ̶a̷n̵d̵ ̶t̸h̷e̴ ̸h̴u̴n̷t̵e̶r̴ ̸i̶n̸ ̶t̴h̸e̸ ̷t̵a̴l̵e̷ ̶i̵s̸ ̷g̶o̶o̴d̴.̷ ̷M̷a̸y̸b̸e̵ ̸y̷o̸u̴ ̵a̶r̴e̵ ̶o̸v̵e̴r̸t̷h̶i̵n̶k̸i̷n̵g̴ this?

The other option is that Flora begged for your life. In which case, the question becomes not Vil’s opinion of you but his opinion of Flora. In the original story, it was never explained why the Prince was there in the first place. If Flora is supposed to fall for Niege and Vil likes Flora enough to want to please her, perhaps that was supposed to be his great source of envy is this version?

The stories are changing, and have differed from what you’ve been told. And frankly, you can’t help but compare this tale to your experiences in the Little Mermaid. Maybe the King’s change in priorities is like the change in the specifics of Rielle’s deal. The end result was the same (Vil’s envy, Rielle coming on land,) but the methods are different to get there.

Vil was awfully concerned about how Flora would be treated by the court, after all. Maybe that went beyond court politics? And his comment about the legs certainly made more sense if taken in regard to your decision.

Whatever the case, you need to get in the palace somehow, and this deal was just handed to you on a silver platter. And as jumbled as your conjecture may be, there is one thing you don’t doubt:

If Vil wanted you dead right now, you already would be.

“Alright,” you nod, agreeing after a pause. “Can Sparky come too?”

“Alas, Monsieur Fuzzball cannot.” Rook shakes his head. “The castle is very private, you see.”

“Ah.” You curse silently. How annoying.

“Henchhuman?” Grim looks up at you.

You purse your lips and smile down at him. “Don’t worry Sparky, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Myah?!” Grim looks up at you, puzzlement displayed across his face. His shock is obvious. 

You nod s̸e̷r̷e̶n̸e̵l̴y̷.̸ ̷“̶D̷o̷n̶’̸t̴ ̶w̷o̸r̷r̸y̶.̶ ̶W̸e̷ ̷c̸a̶n̴ ̸h̴a̷n̴g̷ ̸o̶u̶t̶ ̷l̸i̴k̵e̷ ̸w̵e̷ did at the Mostro later.”

You hope your hint got across.

“Where to?” You ask, turning to the Hunter. 

He grins at you. “Let us away - off to that magnifique castle, Demoiselle Pie!”

***

Jack can’t quite believe everything that’s happened since… well, you.

Everything is all so hard to believe. Y/n, the same girl with the burnt arm w̴h̴o̷ ̷s̷t̸a̴y̷e̴d̴ ̴a̶t̴ ̴h̷i̵s̶ ̵h̷o̶u̸s̶e̸ ̵t̶h̷a̵t̶ ̷n̷i̴g̶h̴t̴,̷ ̶i̷s̸ ̵s̵o̵m̷e̸h̴o̵w̸ ̸a̴l̷s̵o̸ ̴a̵ ̸t̷h̷i̴e̷f̴ ̴t̵h̴a̴t̵ ̶h̶a̴d̵ ̵s̸t̶o̷l̵e̴n̵ ̶s̵o̴m̷e̷t̴h̵i̶n̵g̸ ̷f̴r̶o̷m̵ ̴L̵e̴o̶n̶a̸ ̴o̸f̸ ̶a̷l̷l̴ ̶p̷e̸o̶p̵l̵e̷ ̶a̸n̸d̴ ̷i̴s̶ ̶a̸l̶s̸o̷ ̵s̶o̴m̴e̵h̵o̷w̵ ̵c̸o̶n̶n̴e̶c̷t̷e̸d̵ ̴t̴o̶ ̶t̸h̵o̵s̷e̷ two other weirdos who don’t know how to respect the pecking order.

His mind spins with questions as he walks home- the same questions that have been on his mind for days. What is your end goal here, for starters? Why did you come all this way for a bracelet? It didn’t seem like an important enough prize to go to so much trouble over. There are similar ones in the market for cheap- if that was really it he would have just bought you one himself to save everyone the trouble.

How did you have magic? You had to, right? The other two did- you can’t just disappear into thin air without it, either. H̷e̸’̸d̸ ̷n̶e̸v̵e̸r̴ seen anything like that b̴e̴f̸o̶r̴e̴.̶ ̸B̴o̵t̴h̵ ̶t̷h̷e̶ ̸s̷t̴u̴c̷k̵ ̷u̶p̷ one with the t̸̨̲̎͌̿͠ă̸̯̫͚f̴̫̜̿̆͝f̶̹͔͊ ̵̧͕̖̘͆̄̈́ä̸̩͉́̅͐͠͝ͅn̴̠̩̅͌̈̌́͘d̴̟̳̊̋̈̎̕͝ ̸̠̩̫͌̌̚t̷̰̺͕̦̳̑͐̄̌̾h̵̜̮͗̇͊̂͒̏e̵̪̋̓̆ ̵̡̨̹̮̳̄̈́̎ǎ̸͇̥̼͙̘̐̐̈́͜ṇ̴̱̦͖̎̈́̚͠͝ņ̸̛̠̽̈̉̐ͅö̷̙͓ying one in ropes disappeared before his eyes, a feat that should have been impossible. And y̶e̵t̸ ̶a̵c̶c̶o̶r̶d̶i̷n̵g̶ ̴t̷o̵ ̶L̷e̶ona, you could do the same thing.

When did you come up with that huge plan of yours? Over something so… well, he didn’t want to call his Boss’s bracelet insignificant, but… yeah. (Maybe this is a girl thing?) How did you put so much together in such a short amount of time? He’s certain that if anyone else were to try to take something of Leona’s, even within the next few days, they would be caught at the front door to the palace. Even if a group of them were to try and rush the guards, those women mean business. There’s a reason Leona decided to take a much more indirect, timely approach for overthrowing his brother.

And finally- though he admits, t̸h̵i̶s̵ ̶i̶s̸ ̴t̸h̴e̷ ̷s̶t̸u̴p̵i̷d̶e̸s̸t̵ ̵q̸u̷e̸s̸t̷i̴o̶n̷ ̶o̵f̵ ̴a̶l̷l̶ ̷(̴h̵o̷n̶e̷s̶t̷l̴y̴,̶ ̴h̶e̸ ̶d̷o̴e̷s̷n̷’̷t̸ ̶k̵n̴o̵w̶ ̵w̴h̸y̴ ̴h̶e̴’̵s̸ even thinking about it): had you thought about him at all since you left? Or any of them (but mostly him)? Because you are running through his mind like a clockwork.

Are you okay? That burn on your arm was no joke, and you had been climbing the day after. Like an idiot. You should’ve at least waited a day or two to let it heal before doing something so reckless. Were you worried about a place to stay? He would’ve let you crash at his place, or were you too dimwitted to see that?

He thinks back to his report to Leona, which had taken place only about an hour ago. The conversation that ensued had left him with more questions than answers.

“So it was the crystal?” Leona muses, laying on his bed on his stomach and his head held upright with one hand. “You don’t say.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t sound all that surprised.”

Leona hums. “We already saw it with the other idiot in the cave. What I’m more interested in is what he did with the crystal.”

“Huh?” Ruggie raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I mean, the uppity guy escaped with the crystal in the ravine.” Leona rolls his eyes. “Yet when we put the angry one down there, he didn’t take the bait. If anything, it would’ve been easier just to leave right then and there. So why didn’t he?” Leona rolls over onto his back, putting his arms behind his back and lets out a yawn.

Jack blinks, recalling what had happened. The stranger had run until he couldn’t and kept walking even after that. A̶r̸m̶s̵ ̶s̸t̴i̸l̵l̷ ̴t̶i̴e̷d̸ ̶b̴e̶h̴i̶n̶d̴ ̵h̶i̸s̸ ̷b̴a̶c̷k̵,̷ ̷t̶i̸r̴e̴d̷ ̵a̵n̸d̵ ̵s̴w̷e̴a̶t̶i̷n̶g̵,̸ ̴b̷r̵u̷i̶s̶e̵d̷ ̷a̸n̸d̵ ̶d̷i̷r̶t̶y̸,̷ ̵h̵e̶ ̷s̴t̴o̵p̴p̶e̶d̵ ̷u̵n̷d̸e̸r̶ ̷a̵ ̷t̴r̷e̷e̸ ̷t̵o̸ ̴r̷e̸s̸t̵ ̸o̵n̸l̶y̷ ̶a̶f̸t̶e̸r̵ ̶h̴e̴ ̴w̷a̷s̶ ̷s̵a̴f̴e̴l̶y̷ ̴m̵i̵l̷e̸s̴ ̷a̵w̵a̵y̷ ̴f̸r̴o̶m̸ ̴t̸h̷e̸ ̸r̴a̵v̸i̴n̴e̴.̵ ̸E̸v̴e̵n̶ ̶t̶h̸e̵n̸,̸ ̴h̴e̶ ̸d̵e̴c̸i̴d̵e̴d̴ ̴t̵o̷ ̸r̷e̴s̶t̴.̷ ̵I̵t̸ was only hours later did he stand, contorting to fiddle with his clothes with tied hands. He pulled out the crystal from his pocket and practically rolled under it before vanishing into the air. Jack frowns.

“He… went below it. Even with his hands tied, he still went out of his way to go under it.”

“So it’s dependent on how high you are compared to the crystal?” Ruggie blinks.

“When was this?” Leona asks, but it’s more of a command.

“Early morning. The sun was just b̷̨̞̟̥̋́͝ẹ̷̛̰͓̓̾͝g̴͓̣͖͂͑̐i̶̬̪̤̻̾͋n̷̞͝ņ̵̖̹̪̓̓̾͠ị̶̲͎̅̉́ṅ̵̘̤͎̆́ǵ̵͈͍͔̊ to rise.”

“Just beginnin’ to rise, huh?” Leona hums. “Well that’s it then. The crystals need sunlight to work.”

“Sunlight?!” Ruggie and Jack both gape at him.

Leona rolls his eyes. “C’mon now, surely even you two can figure this out. T̴h̶a̵t̷’̸s̶ why Y/n timed her heist the way she did. She could’ve cornered m̸e̶ ̸a̵t̵ ̵a̸n̴y̶ ̴t̴i̴me- after the g̷a̴t̶h̵e̶r̴i̶n̸g̴, for example. She could’ve caught m̶e̸ ̵a̵l̵o̸n̶e̶ ̸w̵i̵t̷h̸ ̸t̸h̸a̷t̴ ̵l̸i̸t̴tle mutated freak of hers with the fire magic. Not much I could’ve done then. Or t̷͉̑ȟ̴͇ä̵͔́t̶̘̓ night. Why wait, after all? Wouldn’t the cover of night have worked in her favor? Or catchin’ me without a̵l̷l̸ ̷t̶h̶e̵ guards? She’s got the skills.”

“She could’ve, easily. However, she needs light from the sun to get away. That’s the catch.”

“Yeah, but what good is this gonna do for us?” Jack asks. “We don’t have any crystals ourselves.”

L̸e̵o̷n̴a̷ ̸l̵a̶u̴g̷h̷s̸.̵ ̴“̷I̷s̵ ̴t̸h̵a̷t̴ ̵w̸h̶a̷t̷ ̵y̵o̴u̸ t̶h̸i̶n̷k̷?̴”̶

Jack and Ruggie exchange a look.

“Everything the light touches is mine, right?” Leona asks. “That’s what’s told to the Crown Prince. That being said, I’ve always thought it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack asks.

Leona opens his eyes and looks over at his right hand man. “If I’m goin’ to be King anyway, might as well start takin’ what’s rightfully mine. Ruggie?”

The Hyena looks startled. “Yeah?”

“You noticed something earlier.” Leona says it like it’s a fact, which Jack doesn’t doubt it is. “You were starin’ at that scepter earlier with a strange look on your face.”

“A strange look?” Ruggie looks put off, but doesn’t deny the claim.

“Yep. Never seen ya’ hold anythin’ of value and look at it any differently than a face that shows you’re tryin’ to work out the best way to stuff it in your pockets.” Leona grins dryly. “And unless you’ve taken up dancin’ and need a practice partner, you swayin’ it around like you were i̴̲̳͔̬̽ṣ̵̮̱͆n̷̦͌’̶̮̜̄͊͂͝t̴̠̰̦̀ ̵͕̈́͐̆̕n̶̽͜ơ̸̫͈̔͋͝r̵̜̣͚͔̃̂͂͝m̶̰͖̪̉͑̒͑à̶̧̮̳l̷̺̽ either. So,” Leona sits up. “What’d you notice?”

Ruggie stares at him a second, wide eyed and caught, before letting out a sigh and slumping. “Alright, you caught me. You’re weirdly perceptive, you know that?”

“Answer the question.”

“Alright, alright!” Ruggie holds his hand up in surrender. “Something down there in the ravine glowed when the scepter got closer to it.”

“Glowing?” Jack’s eyes widen.

“Yep. I was gonna sneak down there later and see what it was- m̷a̵y̷b̴e̴ ̶I̷ ̷c̶o̴u̶l̷d̸ ̶s̶e̸l̵l̴ ̶‘̸e̸m̵ ̵o̵r̶ ̵s̶o̶mething.” Ruggie pouts. “But I’m taking a finders charge! Fifty- no, sixty- SEVENTY percent!”

Leona looks over at Jack, a lazy grin making its way across his face. “Don’t have any for ourselves, you said?”

Jack groans, reaching his hut and heading inside. It had been a long, sleepless, tiring night. Thankfully, Leona had given him the day off to rest. Good. His body needs to recharge.

He lies face down on his bed, your scent still faintly there from a few days ago. His mind flickers to you again. Your eyes. Your hair. Your lips. That little head tilt you do when you’re confuse̵d̴ ̴o̶r̴ ̵c̸u̴rious about something.

Jack lifts his head to bring his hands over his face and rub his eyes, realising he unconsciously had been wagging his tail. Damnit.

***

Grim waits a safe distance away from the castle, pawing at the ground as he waits for nightfall. Rook disappeared inside with you a while ago, and he’s been bored ever since. What is he even supposed to do?

Wait, what’s that smell? He sniffs the air for a moment. It smells amazing.

He follows his nose and finds a shiny, ebony rock on the ground.

Crowley’s voice rings in his head. “It’s important to keep a balanced diet. No more rocks.”

Grim gobbles it up and smacks his lips.

Still… not great. They are getting tastier, though.

***

It was frankly amazing how quickly you were able to get jobs in every world except your own. Then again, you usually aren’t reckless enough to go tumbling into royal gardens. You doubt you should try with the Yensid’s Castle though, since there’s a good chance you won’t get so lucky twice.

“Is the size to your liking?” Rook asks, voice muffled through the wood. You open the door and step out, trying to ignore the texture of the fabric.

“Yep. Good enough! The size is really not the issue.”

“Ah!” Rook gasps, eyes wide with glee. “How at home you look in the uniform, the green truly-!”

“I am wearing exactly what every other maid in this castle wears.”

“Ah yes, but there is beauty in simplicity, no?”

You had briefly considered the possibility that the hunter could have developed an attraction to you when you were still in the forest. He had complimented your eyes, your hair, your lips, your nose to face ratio. You were trying to work out how to turn him down (you figured if long distance is hard, trans-dimensional relationships were doomed) when he started talking about Vil, Niege, Flora, and someone else named Epel and all became clear: Rook is a veritable weirdo.

You had never, and doubted you would ever, come across a man as unique as Rook. An aficionado of all things beautiful, he would not shut up about them.

Even if reality really didn’t fit his descriptions of something, like your uniform.

“It’s itchy.” You shrug, uncomfortable with the rapt attention and the clothes. The coarse, dyed wool of the shift rubs against your skin. It smells of ash, sweat, and something else. Unfortunately, you also have the sinking feeling this is what you're sleeping in.

“Do not sell yourself short, Demoiselle Pie. You look très beau.”

“If you say so.” You assume that’s a compliment, though if it is it’s far too generously given. “So what am I doing here? Can’t say I’ve ever worked in a castle before, so I’ll need the full rundown.”

“Ah, très bien, right to work.” Rook nods approvingly. “Your responsibilities lie at the very heart of the castle’s breath, for you will wake before the sun to kindle the fires that will warm the King and draw the water that will soothe the Princess before her wedding day. Every pot you scrub will-”

“I’m a scullery maid, right?” You interrupt flatly. “Isn’t that what they’re called.”

…you’d pretended to be one once or twice.

Rook gasps. “Non Demoiselle Pie, you are much more than that! You are the-”

“Scullery maid.” You say again.

“Oui, but-”

“I’m a scullery maid. Moving on, what else do I do apart from kindling the castle’s breath at the crack of dawn?”

Rook’s eyes shine with amusement as he raises his chin up slightly and crosses his arms. “A straightforward explanation then; your primary duties will involve kitchen work: handling pots and pans and assisting the cooks when required. You will also be tasked with collecting water and firewood and may be called upon to help with laundry or general cleaning.”

“Why?” You tilt your head. “Aren’t there laundry maids?”

“We are…” Rook searches for a better word but apparently finds none. “Ah, understaffed.”

“Ah.” You instinctively nod, then frown when you digest what was said. “Why?”

“The King accepts nothing but the best.” Rook explains, voice rising with passion. “Truly, what dedicated efforts! Belle, non?”

“And… what happened to them when they were deemed not up to standard?”

“They were simply removed from the castle.”

Removed. You’re going to die as a scullery maid, aren’t you?

“I see.” You grimly nod. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just follow your superiors and you shall do just fine.” Rook promises. “With the wedding between Princesse des Fleurs and Roi du Poison in four days, the castle is busier than usual. Your assistance is invaluable.”

Four days? You think back to the girl you met on the garden wall and internally cringe. However, this is not your circus, and definitely not your monkeys.

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Just be warned: causing trouble costs more than it is worth.” Rook explains, low and somber, making your blood run cold. Emotion leaves his face and his eyes fix on you, discerning and patient. Watching. Waiting, gaze of a predator.

…it’s been a while since you were subjected to this kind of look. Given the disaster that Leona ended up being, you don’t miss it.

Then again, Rook’s only human. He can’t have that same kind of power.

“Now!” Rook claps his hands, joyous but commanding, and saunters forward to direct you down the hall. “Let’s get you to the Kitchens!”

Four Days Until The Wedding

***

You wait patiently until night falls before moving to slip out of your room, careful not to disturb the other maids resting on the floor around you. The room is cold but stuffy. The collective smell of the entire servant body’s sweat and odour collects in a pungent cloud above you. You gag. Beside you, a girl rolls over, so you pause and turn to ensure she’s not awoken. You wouldn’t be surprised if she isn’t given how, even if you only considered how hard and cold the stone floor is. Fortunately though, she’s out like a light, snoring. You have mixed feelings about leaving your bag of belongings behind- you have no doubt the other servants would take everything inside if given the opportunity. However, you have to be quick and light. If you're caught, you don’t doubt you’ll be penalized. You carefully step between the bodies of your new colleagues, creeping over to the door. Once close enough you put your hand on the knob and turn it, the door creaking open. You look back to see if anyone noticed- they didn’t. Or, if they did, they just thought it was another rat.

You’re exhausted from hours in the kitchens and not particularly happy with any of today’s developments, but you need your…

Your friend.

You pause at the momentary realisation.

Huh.

Your best friend is an overgrown racoon. 

Fabulous.

Silent as a mouse, you head down the corridor, guided only by the faint light of the occasional lit torch on the wall and the dim moonlight that peaks in through tall glass windows. Thankfully, your night vision is better than most. Given that for you it was essentially a survival skill, your eyes had become accustomed to the dark. You weren’t a cat (or Grim) by any means, but you’d be surprised if there was anybody else in the castle who could navigate through the halls with as little light as you.

You head closer to your destination, praying Grim had gotten the hint. You have faith in your furry friend though- perhaps you wouldn’t have at the start of your quests, but you do now.

You finally a̷r̸r̸i̶v̸e̷ ̵a̶t̸ ̶t̸h̷e̷ ̷k̸i̴t̴c̸h̷e̸n̵s̸.̷ ̴T̶h̸a̷n̴k̷ ̶g̷o̸o̴d̴n̵e̵s̴s̶ ̷y̴o̷u̴ ̵h̸a̸d̶ ̸b̴e̵e̶n̶ ̷p̷u̸t̷ ̴t̸o̷ ̶w̶o̵r̵k̸ ̵i̴n̴ ̴h̸e̸r̵e̶ ̶o̶r̴ ̶y̷o̸u̷ ̶m̷i̶g̵h̶t̶ ̴n̷e̵v̵e̵r̵ ̶h̴a̷v̴e̷ ̷f̷o̶u̴n̸d̵ ̶i̷t̵,̶ ̶g̴i̸v̶e̴n̶ ̸t̵h̸e̶ ̷s̶i̵z̴e̷ ̸o̴f̷ ̷t̸h̴e̸ ̷c̴a̸s̸t̶l̴e̷ ̸a̴n̷d̸ ̴t̵h̴e̸ ̶q̶u̴a̸n̶t̸i̷t̸y̶ of rooms.

It’s silent in there, a ghostly breeze fluttering around the room. You scratch your arm, fingers brushing over your bracelet.

You get the sense you’re being watched, but when you turn, no one is there.

“Henchhuman?”

You turn towards the voice with a smile, seeing your companion standing proudly on the counter. “Sparky! You made it!”

“Sure did!” Grim smirks, putting his paws on his sides. “I’m the grand escape artist extraordinaire!” 

You snort. “You sure are. And not so loud!”

“Relax, no one’s here!” Grim leaps off the counter and into your arms, using your sleeve to climb his way up to your shoulder. “So, what’s the plan?”

Your shoulder is practically sinking beneath his weight. “Grim, this isn’t going to work.”

“Sure it is!” Grim looks around. “Don’t talk down about yourself.”

“I meant the shoulder thing.”

“Why not? I already took Iago’s place in the last tale!”

“You’re heavier than a parrot, Grim.”

“When we get back to Ramshackle, you should try gaining some muscle.” Grim tells you, tumbling back into your arms so you’re cradling him like a baby. He spreads his arms enthusiastically. “Then you can carry the Great Grim everywhere, like a real Henchhuman!”

Your best friend is a racoon who expects you to be his lackey. 

Fabulous.

“When we get back to Ramshackle, I am making Crowley make me more tea.” You sigh, setting him down. “The good Earl Gray kind.”

“And give us tuna!” Grim cheers, hopping back onto the nearby counter.

“Yes, and tuna.” You agree firmly with a nod. “Then taking a nice long nap since I won’t be sleeping here. Though, I’m sure he’ll be eager to shove us into the next world real quick.”

“Maybe we can both ask him to teach us both magic!” Grim interjects enthusiastically. “That oughta distract him for a minute!”

You freeze. “What?”

“Yeah!” Grim nods. “You heard what Jamil said! You’ve got a ton’a magic! Then maybe we can learn toge-”

“Oh no.” You laugh, though it comes out more forced than you wanted. “No, no, I am not learning magic.”

Grim’s ears fall flat against his head and he sinks down onto all fours. “Oh. I thought your… feelings had changed.”

Oh bother. Grim’s staring at his paws, all happiness having drained away in an instant. Given every̷t̶h̴i̶n̷g̴,̶ ̸y̴o̷u̷‘̵v̸e̷ ̵p̵r̶o̴b̷a̶b̶l̸y̷ ̶j̸u̴s̸t̴ ̶m̶a̸d̵e̷ ̵h̵i̷m̵ ̵f̴e̴e̸l̷ ̵t̸e̶r̵r̶i̸b̴l̴e̷.̵ ̸Y̸o̷u̶ ̸h̵a̴v̸e̸ ̶o̷n̵e̸ ̸f̶r̶i̸e̶n̷d̸ ̵a̵g̸a̵i̸n̷ ̸a̴f̴t̵e̷r̵ ̴l̶o̵s̸i̷n̸g̴ ̷e̶v̴e̴r̸y̸t̵h̵i̶n̵g̸,̴ ̵a̸n̷d̵ ̵y̵o̴u̴’̸r̴e̴ ̴a̵l̶r̵e̵a̴d̴y̵ ̷m̷e̴s̴s̸i̸n̸g̸ ̷i̵t̶ ̶u̷p̷.̷ ̴Y̸o̵u̴’̸r̸e̸ ̵a̶ ̵t̸e̶r̷rible person. He’d probably be happier with anyone but you. If you didn’t have magic in the first place this conversation would have never even happened. You feel rotten to the core.

“No, Grim, don’t worry!” You hurry to amend your earlier statement. “Your magic’s great! A really useful tool. I just don’t want to do anything with mine.”

“But you just said it was useful.” Grim points out, staring up at you.

“It is!” You explain. “It’s just complicated, you know?”

Grim stares at you, looking guilty. “Sorry…”

“No, no, Sparky, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” You soothe him as much as yourself. How did apologizing make everything worse? Time for a topic change. “So abo̶u̵t̸ ̶t̸h̸i̸s̵ ̴m̶i̶s̷s̴i̸o̵n̷,̸ ̵h̷ere’s the plan. I need you to snoop around the castle and just see what you can find. We don’t know where anything is, or how the story is progressing, a̴n̵d̸ I’m stuck on maid duty. I need you to be my eyes and ears of the castle.”

“So just sneak around?”

“Exactly. Just don’t get caught, please.”

“Heh, this is nothin’ for the Great Grim, Grand Escape Artist Extradordinare!”

You smirk and roll your eyes. “Good to know. Now, I’m going to bed. I’ve got an early morning shift in just a few hours.”

“Where should I sleep?”

Cringing, you raise your arms.

“Oh.” He looks less than pleased.

“If it’s any consolation, my bedmate snores almost as bad as you do.”

***

Three Days Until The W̶̗̽͗͗̄e̴̛͔͚̪̐͋͜d̴̤̼̰̎̚ͅd̷̩̥͕͠į̷̖̭̄͋ͅn̶̛͔̫̙͒͜ḡ̷̰̟͕

When you were told to wake up at the crack of dawn, Rook wasn’t kidding. It’s freezing, cold air biting your skin and cold stone freezing your feet. The sun isn’t even peaking over the horizon yet when you trudge out of your room, exhausted yet too cold to not be awake.

Your first job is to light the fires, so you hurry to collect the wood. You find your way outside, stepping into a familiar courtyard. However, you don’t see any woodpiles lying around. But you are hear singing.

THWACK!

You jump at the noise, but assume it’s not an animal when it happens again. You wander toward the rhythmic noise, spotting a familiar, fair faced man with an axe, chopping wood and whistling a song about wishes as he works.

THWACK!

“Do you always sing when you work?” 

Niege turns around and nearly falls backwards when his eyes fall on you. “Oh- Y/n! It’s you!”

Of course he found a way to get even hotter.

“Yep!” You give him an awkward grin and do your best not to stare at his biceps, axe still in his hand. “It’s me!”

“You’re back!” Niege beams with a smile that almost makes you feel physically warmer. Almost.

You try to return his energy, but it’s too early and you don’t actually want to be here. “Yep! I was shocked too.”

“What happened to you?” Niege frets, face morphing into concern as he sets the axe down. “I tried asking Rook and Epel, but-”

“Don’t worry.” You wave him off. “There was a slight misunderstanding between Vil and I, but it’s all good now. I work here now.”

“You work here?” Niege asks, eyebrows shooting upward before his face breaks out into another smile. He runs his hand through his hair. “As in, work work?”

“I do indeed.” You nod. “And I need firewood.”

“Ah, yes! Of course!” Nieg̸e̶ ̸a̴l̴m̴o̶s̸t̶ ̸t̷r̴i̴p̴s̵ ̴a̶s̶ ̷h̵e̸ ̴h̸u̵r̵r̴i̶es to the wood rack, starting to put pieces of wood into a log basket for you. “Here you go!”

“Thanks.” You smile, walking over to help. “By the way, how long have you been out here? It’s cold.”

“Oh, not too long.” Niege shakes his head. “About 3… 15ish?” 

You look at him sympathetically (and with a slight tinge of horror). “Almost an hour? Aren’t you cold?”

Niege shrugs snd rubs the back of his neck. “I have to get out before everyone else to make sure the wood is cut. It’s the castle’s breath, you know.”

“Rook?” You raise an eyebrow, smirking.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

You gesture toward his wood chopping set up. “Why don’t you cut it all the night before?”

“I’m afraid there’s no time.” Niege tells you, grabbing the sides of the now full basket and standing up. “With so few people in the castle, my schedule is already full.”

“I see.” You grimace as you stand. “I guess the wedding doesn’t help anything either. How do you feel about Flora marrying the King, by the way?”

“I say, whatever makes them both happy.” Niege gives you a smile, so genuine you’re instantly put in a bad mood. “I’m so glad Vil finally chose someone!”

“Were there others?” You ask, reaching out to take the basket. He moves back.

“Please don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure? You said you were busy.”

“I have a minute.” Niege gives you a hopeful smile. “And… I’d like to keep talking to you.”

…this poor, lonely boy.

Whatever. He’s a package that’s practically wrapped himself up in newspaper, and you’ll take any outlet for information you can get. You throw on a smile and beckon him toward the door. “You’re sweet. Sounds good! Follow me.”

Niege follows behind, carrying the very heavy basket of wood. Better him than you.

“So, back to Vil. Were there other contenders to be his partner?”

“Hm? Oh, yes.” Niege nods. “Many. Since he settled on Flora, it must mean he found his one true love!”

Or she was just convenient. You think back to your encounter with Vil and cringe. 

“And Flora?”

“Oh, she really likes Vil.” Niege practically sings. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

You feel your face pale. “And? How do you feel about it?”

“Hm? As I said, I’m happy for them.” Niege leans forward to get a better look at your face. “Goodness, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah!” You throw on a faux smile and mentally scream. “Just tired.”

Niege hums. “Oh! By the way, your jewellery is very pretty.” Niege smiles. “I’ve never seen a necklace like that- oh, and your bracelet is so unique!”

“Hm? Oh.” You suppose your sleeve had fallen down when you were collecting the logs and he must have seen it then. “Thank you.”

“Where did you get them from?”

“...some people from my past.”

You barely remember the rest of the conversation as Niege’s words ring in your ears.

“She really likes Niege. Isn’t that wonderful?”

No, it is definitely not.

***

“The Princess has requested a light snack and tea to assist her dress fitting.” An older cook calls out. “You there, new girl.”

“Hmm?” You look up from the forks you’re scrubbing. It was ironic to be scrubbing the wares from breakfast, since you don’t feel like you could actually call it that. You admit, perhaps, you’ve become accustomed. After all, the food at breakfast was nothing unusual for you- it’s the sort of scraps you had been eating most of your life. Still, despite the grim state of your heists and the looming threat of the world’s end, you haven’t had many bad meals since this all began: Crowley’s cooking, Wonderland’s tea party (and chocolate!), fresh meat and red bananas, gourmet sea food, that really good breakfast Jamil made-

“Run this up to her, and be quick!”

You nod and hurry over, eager to give your skin a break from the washing. The lye they gave you to use as soap was burning your hands, raising itchy red bumps across your skin like a field of strawberries. “Of course. Where is it?”

“East wing of the castle, second floor.”

“...and east is?”

“For pete’s sake.” She curses you. “Over there!”

“Right, thank you!”

It takes a bit of searching, but you eventually where you need to go. Inside you see Flora, who’s standing in the middle of the room wearing an elegant white dress with puffed sleeves, intricate lace that resembles fresh snowfall, and a voluminous skirt that looks like a cloud. It sags off of her slightly, but the royal tailor is already pinning it to her form.

“Excuse me?” You ask, earning almost no one’s attention. “Where should I put this?”

Another servant girl notices you and hurriedly turns to Flora. “Just set it right there on that table. My lady, your tea!”

“Oh, lovely!” She smiles and turns just before letting out an excited, high pitched squeal. “N/c/t/y/n! It’s you!”

Quickly, you put the tea and tray down on the table as Flora jumps off the stand and hurries to you like a duckling racing to its mother, all enthusiasm and no grace at all. Her foot catches on her many skirts and she goes tumbling forward, into your arms. You’re knocked off balance and sent down to the floor with her.

“Princess!” The staff rush to help her.

“Oh my goodness!” She gasps, being pulled up. “N/c/t/y/n, are you okay?”

“It’s Y/n. And I’m fine.” You g̴i̶v̴e̵ ̸h̷e̵r̴ ̷a̶ ̷c̴r̷i̴n̷k̸l̸e̴d smile as you stand. “Good to see you.”

She squeals with happiness again and wraps you in another hug, nearly sending you tumbling over for a second time. “Oh, I’m just so happy you’re okay! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise what had happened until it was too late!”

“It’s okay, I don’t blame you.” You hug her back, though far more awkwardly. “You look beautiful in this dress.”

“Aw, thank you!” She preens, giving you a twirl. “I’m so happy with how it’s turning out! Do you think Vil will like it?”

You refrain from pursing your lips. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”

“Yes, and if you could just step back this way, Your Highness, please.” The tailor begs, trying to herd her back to the platform she leapt off of.

“Oh, okay.” She nods and cooperates, but keeps talking to you as she does. “Did Vil give you lots of land now?”

“Uhh…” You blink. Land? “No?”

She gasps, looking horrified as she’s turned to face the mirror. She looks at you through it, discontent clear on her face. “I thought he would surely give you a noble title at the very least since everything is all cleared up now!”

You laugh in disbelief, scratching between your fingers where your skin burns the most. “I’d love one, but unfortunately he has not.”

“Well this won’t do.” She huffs. “Not even a small fortune?”

“I work at the palace now?”

“Oh, that’s simply wonderful!” Flora claps her hands, nearly whacking the poor tailor in the face, who was just leaning in to pin the fabric at her waist. “Now you can become rich, and be with me the whole time. Oh, we should work to find you a handsome noble husband so you get a title that way!”

“I’d love to, but I have to get going.” You give her a friendly shrug.

“What?” She whines, spinning around to face you. “Why?”

“Princess, please…” the Tailor begs.

“The kitchen is preparing lunch, which means they need help cleaning everything up before more dishes come in.” You explain. After that, you’ll be… washing even more dishes from lunch. Your day is packed full, and the skin where you’re scratching is bleeding.

“Oh.” Flora blinks. “But can’t somebody else do it just this once? I’d much rather have you here.”

You shake your head. “I’m afraid not. The kitchen is already overwhelmed.”

Flora hums, unhappy with this news. “In that case, after the wedding I’ll hire more staff so you and I can spend lots of time together! I can tell you all about our honey moon, and we can drink tea, and maybe we can go climbing again if Vil allows it- oh! By the way, you’ll be happy to know that my knees are supposed to make a full recovery!”

You smile and give her a nod, turning to leave. “I’ll look forward to that, Princess.”

“Oh, and Y/n?” Flora calls out after you.

“Yes?”

She gives you a bright, warm smile. “Tell the cooks that I want you to personally deliver my dinner!”

***

“Y/n?” A voice rings out, immediately catching Niege’s ears. “Y/n?”

“Princess!” The cook gasps, and the rest of the kitchen’s staff freezes. “What on earth are you doing here? A place such as this is not fit for a lady such as yourself!”

“I’m looking for Y/n.” She pouts, looking around. “She promised she’d bring me dinner but I finished up early, so I thought I’d come surprise her. Is she truly not here?”

“No, Princess.” Niege shakes his head, coming closer. “But please, allow me to escort you to your chambers. It’s not right for the future Queen to be down here. What would Vil say?”

Flora stiffens. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that…”

“Please, right this way.” Niege gives her a comforting smile and holds the door for her, gently guiding the Princess through. Flora does as encouraged, looking guilty.

“I’m so sorry for causing trouble… Please don’t tell Vil…”

Niege puts his hand over his heart. “Your secret’s safe with me, Princess. But forgive me, I had no idea you and Y/n were so close?”

“Of c̴o̴u̶r̶s̷e̵ ̷w̷e̵ ̸a̸r̸e̷!̴”̸ ̸F̴l̶o̶r̴a̸ ̴b̶e̶a̷m̷s̷,̷ ̴a̸l̷l̷ ̷w̸o̷r̸r̴i̷s̸o̸m̶e̶ ̸e̴n̵e̷r̶g̴y̴ ̷d̵i̵s̵s̵i̸p̶a̵t̵i̴n̵g̶ ̴i̸n̸ ̸a̸n̸ ̷i̷n̸s̸t̶a̵n̷t̶.̸ “We’re best friends! After Nanny, of course, but she’s still back home… Oh, I can’t wait to see her again at the wedding!”

“I’m overjoyed for you.” Niege smiles, sharing her enthusiasm. “But if I may be so bold Your Highness, do you think you could offer me some advice on your friend?”

“Nanny?”

Niege blinks, startled. “No. Y/n.”

Flora stops walking and gasps, excitement begging to burst out from within her. “Have you fallen in love with her? Oh, please say it’s so!”

A little taken aback, Niege doesn’t answer straight away. However, his expression melts into something more sheepish. “I’m afraid it is. The way she rushed to help a stranger was most admirable- truly a display of her inner soul. Why, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vision as fair as she was when she was helping you.”

Flora squeals, jumping up and down, skirts blooming out beneath her. “Oh, how wonderful! You and Y/n simply must get together! Oh, how lovely would that be? If you dance with your true love while I dance with my true love at my wedding!”

Niege’s heart flutters at the thought. “That would be amazing- but you don’t mind?”

“Of course not!” Flora looks offended at the thought. “I want the best for my friend! But if you hurt her, I’ll… I’ll…”

“I would never hurt Y/n, I assure you!” Niege declares. “Why, to hurt your true love is to cut your own soul!”

“I couldn’t agree more!” Flora smiles. “Why, how lovely is it that we happen to have exactly the same feelings toward love as the other!”

“It’s certainly a miraculous coincidence.” Niege agrees, reaching her room and opening the door for her. “It’s as if we are kindred spirits!”

“We’re going to be such good friends!” Flora claps her hands together excitedly.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Behind the corner, Grim bangs his head against the wall as he listens to the end of their interaction. O̵͓͊ḧ̴͖ ̶̪̚g̷̢̒r̵̲̽e̵̫̒a̸̡͂ț̸͂.̶̞͆ Henchhuman’ll be so glad to hear this one…

***

“I’m here, Princess!” You call out, knocking on the door. “With your dinner, just as requested.”

The door swings open, revealing the brunette princess practically hopping up and down from excitement from seeing you. “Y/n! Oh, it’s so good to see you! I went looking for you earlier, but thought it best to wait in my chambers.”

“Probably was.” You agree, stepping inside. “This place is huge- I don’t think I would have found you otherwise.”

“It certainly is.” Flora nods. “I was so lost when I first arrived. But it just goes to show how capable King Vil is, managing everything all by himself!”

“Right.” You put down the dinner tray. “Vil. How long have you known him, exactly?”

“Eight months!”

“Oh, wow.” You blink, a little taken off guard. You hadn’t been expecting that answer. You subconsciously rub your fingers together, feeling the irritated bumps across your skin. If it wasn’t for your sleeves you’d likely have scratched your arms raw. “That’s… not that long.”

“But since it’s true love, it doesn’t matter.” Flora tells you firmly as she sits down to eat. She keeps talking like everything is fact. “And Vil has to be my true love! How could he not be?”

Oh bother. Vil? Sure, he’s pretty, but he’s also a dingus. And if all this is looks, Niege is pretty too! Of course, you screwed up their meeting point. What else is new? But you have to get the story back on track as soon as possible. Hopefully Niege didn’t end up falling for you the same way Rielle did, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need to convince the Princess that everything she thinks is wrong.

“But what about Niege?”

“Whaaaaaaaat?” Flora, much to your delight, does a terrible job of hiding her interest. “Why? What about him? Why do you bring him up?”

“Just w̸o̶n̷d̷e̵r̶i̴n̷g̸ ̷w̸h̷a̷t̶ ̵y̷ou thought.” You shrug, putting your hands on the table across from her and leaning forward. “He’s pretty good looking too, you know.”

Flora smiles coyly, making you grin. “He is, isn’t he?”

Maybe this isn’t as much of a lost cause as you thought! You can’t help the giddiness rising within you. Getting everything back on track doesn’t seem like it will be nearly as hard as you thought, and Flora definitely has an interest in this discussion. For once, everything is going perfectly!

“And he’s so sweet.” You continue. “And super strong. Do you remember when he carried you the other day?”

“Yes!” She giggles. “I assure you Y/n, I have never felt safer in another’s arms.”

“He is strong isn’t he?” You muse. “I mean, I never thought he was scrawny per se but he definitely has more muscle than one would expect from him given his friendly face. But I saw him chopping wood this morning, and he’s definitely got some meat on his arms.”

“You took notice?” She gasps, a smile breaking across her face. “Y/n, you are an honest one!”

“That’s me!” You nod along. “Y/n the Honest. And to be perfectly honest, it was hard not to.” You continue talking Niege up, noticing the delight in Flora’s eyes. You fan yourself. “I mean, wow. What a man, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, yes.” Flora winks. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

***

“What do you mean?” Vil demands. “Someone likes Niege? Who?”

“Hoo boy.” Epel, the Junior Courtier, groans under his breath. “Here we go.”

“Silence.” Vil snaps. “Focus on your footwork, not our conversation. I can’t have you embarrassing yourself at the wedding in front of the whole court- or me, for that matter.”

“Dangnabit.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Vil!” Epel calls through gritted teeth, going back to stiffly shuffling across the dance floor without a partner.

Flora laughs and playfully smacks Vil on the arm. “Now, don’t be like that! I’m sure your dancing will be great, Epel!”

Both men look at her dubiously.

“Epel’s just happy for them!” Flora swoons. “Isn’t true love beautiful, Vil?”

Vil’s tone is dry. “I’m ecstatic. Who likes Niege?”

“Oh, you know.” Flora giggles. “Y/n~”

Vil feels his blood run cold. 

Epel looks over from his shuffling, eager to be included in the most recent castle gossip. “Who?”

“My best friend!”

“Your what?!” Vil asks, doing a double take.

“You have a friend?!” Epel blinks.

“Oh, you should have heard her Vil!” F̸l̵o̶r̷a̴ ̶s̸h̶a̸k̵e̴s̵ ̸h̷i̶s̸ ̶a̸r̶m̶ excitedly, bouncing up and down. “She couldn’t stop smiling the whole time! Oh, I’m so happy for them! Niege was just telling me before that he has fallen for her as well- they’re going to kiss and get married and have lots of little children and then her children and our children can be best friends-“

Epel’s turn for a double take. “Beg yer pardon?”

“Epel!” Vil snaps.

“Sorry.” Epel rolls his eyes. “Beg your pardon.”

Vil glares at him as Flora latches onto his arm, but the King’s not really there anymore anyway. 

Flora nuzzles her fiancé. “Isn’t it wonderful?”