Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time was a phrase that led into something short, simple, and usually sweet. That was how all of Steven’s fairy tales started. He had shelves full of thick fairy tale collections and thin picture books, and he had every story memorized by now.

Cinderella said that, once upon a time, Ella had a terrible life with an abusive family that named her after dirt, until a charming prince swept her off her feet and carried her away. They didn’t go into the painful, mean years she spent growing up with monsters. They started with the ball.

They didn’t talk about Rapunzel’s long, lonely years in the tower with no one but a wicked witch and her long hair. They talked about how the prince came to rescue her. They talked about how love could cure blindness, fight evil, and banish years of loneliness all within a single kiss.

They never talked about how many people never managed to love the beast.

The claws at the end of his fingers slid through the block of wood in his hands like butter. It was hard to read in this shape, his monstrous lion-like form, because sometimes the delicate pages would tear. When he tried playing his ukulele, strings would snap, and his guitar rarely fared better. Piano keys were forever marred with claw marks. Because, in his selfishness, he destroyed the things he loved the most.

So he took wood and he carved it, because that was something claws were good for. He tried his best to get back into human shape, to stop thinking about himself and his misery. Sadness was quite the burden on everyone when it gave you paws.

But it was hard not to be selfish when another chance at love had come and gone. Adrien Savage, a sweet boy with a flirtatious smile. Steven had liked him quite a bit, but he had said he wasn’t looking for a project once Steven’s claws had come out. They all said something like that, once they got a glimpse of his curse.

That was the eleventh potential suitor this year, and everyone had had a reason to leave without a kiss or a confession of love. He had kept track of how many he had in total over the years. Since fifteen he had been on a quest, sending out letters and his family in hopes of finding someone sweet enough to love him and break the curse. Years of trying, years of failure.

Maybe having someone love him was too much to ask at all.

There was a quiet knock on his door frame, and he looked up from his block of wood. Pearl was smiling there, brighter than he had seen in a while, and Garnet’s expression behind her matched. It was rare for both his companions to be so happy at the same time, as they had their own curses to deal with.

Pearl had been silenced. His adoptive mother couldn’t speak a word, couldn’t write a page, and her hands would lock up at any attempt of signing. Garnet, ever helpful and brilliant, was doomed to only ask questions. Her wisdom was forever locked away behind vagueness and implications.

“How old are you today, Steven?” she asked, and the puzzle of her conversation began.

Garnet knew his age, he was sure. She loved him dearly and she made him a cake every year. Pearl was always sure to bring a present. Today was his birthday, in fact. That was why he was stuck with claws. It was hard not to be selfish when you’d had the misfortune of being dumped the day before your birthday.

“I’m twenty today,” he said. He sat up, searching Garnet’s face for an answer as he asked: “Are you doing something special?”

They were in his bedroom, and he was in his bed (which he shouldn’t have been, because Pearl hated cleaning the sheets of shavings), so Garnet came to sit beside him. She patted his leg with a bit of uncharacteristic giddiness. “Is there anyone from Earth who could make this day more special?”

“I always like it when Dad visits.” Steven laughed, but when he looked to Pearl for confirmation, she shook her head no with a smile. 

Her shoes clicked quietly on the pretty tile floor as she came to his beside. He had a table there, with several drawers, and she opened the top. There were his letters, the one thing he organized himself instead of letting Pearl do it. They were carefully arranged through the years, from oldest to newest, as the sloppy childish handwriting became more elegant and professional.

He stared at the drawer, then back to Pearl as disbelief settled in. Because, surely, his penpal couldn’t be coming. She had strict parents. She had too many rules. He had invited her to his castle countless times, and pain seeped into her every word as she apologetically said she had no way of escaping out to him, even for a day.

“She’s coming?” Steven whispered.

Pearl’s smile widened and Garnet laughed. “Would you like it if she stayed for a while?”

“Of course!” he cried. 

Steven fumbled out of his bed, his thoughts turning towards what he could do for her, how he could help her have a nice stay, so that it was human feet that touched the tiled floor. Clawless hands raked through his hair. “How long? Sorry, I know you can’t answer. Oh my gosh. I’m in my pajamas.”

He rushed to his wardrobe, pushing clothes aside as he searched for the fanciest things he owned. “I have to look nice, like a real prince. I mean, after all these years she’s probably expecting someone impressive.”

“Won’t she be expecting you just the way you are?” she pointed out.

The scraping of hangers came to a stop as he swallowed. “Garnet, if anyone’s ever going to love me it’s her. I can’t risk messing it up.” He looked back at her. “Don’t you want to stop asking questions? Don’t you want Pearl to have her voice back? And Amethyst…”

He trailed off with a miserable shake of his head. “When Mom got cursed she already had true love. She didn’t have a way to break it. But maybe I do, and she’s the best chance I could have. She already likes me!”

He ran his fingers slowly over a red cape. Years of letters, of nearly all his secrets. They had bonded over books and music. They had talked of fantasy, of magic, of dreams for the future and plans for the day. Steven knew his penpal inside and out, and she knew him, and that had to count for something.

Steven said, “We don’t have to build a friendship or have that stupid awkward phase where people get scared and run off. All I have to do is sweep her off her feet. Easy, right?”

Of course, his companions didn’t answer.

That was fine. He had gotten used to it, actually. He liked the quiet. Besides, it helped with his curse. As long as Garnet and Pearl and Amethyst needed his help, he could help them. When he helped them, he couldn’t be selfish. He was human. He was himself.

That was why gems came from far and wide all across his grandmother’s queendom. He was always happy to help through all their pain and struggles. The curse had left his heart open and generous, and he had spent his life helping others however he could. While it was tiring, he was himself at the end. He made the world better. He couldn’t think of anything better.

And so he would do the same for his penpal. He dressed like a prince for her, because what girl wouldn’t want a prince? He already lived in a castle, after all. It floated in the sky, as high as a mountain, over what had once been the remains of a training arena. His mother had confined herself there for safety and Steven had confined himself just the same. It was a lonely place, but it made for a pretty picture. A very royal, regal kind of scene.

Once he was dressed in his most princely attire, he came to stand in front of the warp and wondered what she would look like now. The last picture he had gotten was nearly four years prior - his fifteen-year-old best friend was showing off an award she had won in model UN. He’d loved her smile. Her eyes. The world she was a part of.

He’d been too scared to ask for more pictures. It had seemed greedy to want more. The claws that had appeared on the end of his fingers every time he thought about asking only confirmed that. He’d sent a few pictures of himself, because he was sure she’d like to see that, and in the back of his mind he had hoped that would inspire her to do the same. It hadn’t, but at least she seemed to think his human self was handsome.

He had, of course, not sent his beastly form, or ever told her about it.

Steven spent nearly an hour in front of the cold, smooth crystal before she appeared. She had grown, of course - people changed from fifteen to nineteen, but it still sent his head spinning. She was his age, nearly his height, and he felt his throat tighten as she smiled like she was truly happy to see him. She knew him, and was glad to be here.

What was the princely thing to do? He stepped forward, giddy and anxious all at once. He took her hands, because he was a gentleman, to help her down the stairs. She didn’t need it, of course. She hadn’t been fetched, and there were no high heels shoes or fancy clothes. Just a simple, comfortable-looking blue outfit. Even dragging a huge suitcase along behind her, she was graceful and surefooted as she stepped off the warp.

“Welcome!” he said eagerly and prayed that he wasn’t too formal. She had normal friends. A normal life. She wasn’t confined to a castle with books and silence and questions and, on the rare occasion, his father from a generation past. He prayed there wasn’t too much slang to learn. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Pleasure to be here!” she returned with a laugh. 

She had a beautiful laugh, a beautiful voice. Years of letters and though he knew the way she put words together he had never heard her, not even once. There was no internet in his castle. Cell service had never worked. The only thing he had ever had of her was a few pictures and her wonderful letters.

Her slender fingers squeezed his as she looked up at him, her face excited and anxious all at once. “Pearl and Garnet seemed to think you’d like the surprise. Maybe I should have written, since it sounds like you found out anyway.”

She paused, her eyes going wide. The gentle roughness of her hands pulled away as she took a step back and gave him a slight bow. “I mean, I… sorry, I didn’t even think. I should introduce myself. I’m-”

“Of course I know who you are!” he winced to cut her off, but there was no stopping it now. His excitement came forward whether he wanted it to or not. “You’re Connie Maheswaran! My best friend. I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Steven. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to come.” She beamed, relieved and ecstatic, only for her expression to fall as she mumbled, “But you know how my parents are.”

He nodded. “How did you get away?”

“Well, I’m nineteen, so they don’t get much of a say anymore.” She winked and giggled, and Steven was fairly sure his heart stopped beating for a moment. She knew him and she was flirtatious. Playful. He’d never gotten that far before.

She continued, “But I’m also in college for political science. I managed to get into an independent study program, and that means I get to spend some time off-campus, in foreign territory.” Connie gestured to the castle behind with a sly grin. “Think it counts?”

“Yes!” he said, and he flushed at the sound of his desperation. “H-How long are you staying? You have a suitcase.”

She hesitated as she looked down at her bag. “Oh. Um, maybe I should have asked you first, but Pearl and Garnet were so excited. Still, it’s your home. I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“Don’t ever worry about me!” He grabbed her suitcase, as if once it was in his hands she couldn’t leave. As if she couldn’t reconsider. As if he wouldn’t do anything for her, even let her walk away, if she asked. His heart ached in his chest. “You could stay here forever and I wouldn’t mind.”

“Forever is a very long time, Prince Universe. How about we try the fall semester and go from there?”

Another smile. Another wink. He was sure his heart would burst.

Chapter Text

The world was made of stories and folklore, and Beach City had its favorite - High in the sky, beyond the reach of any human, was a prince who lived in a castle. Like all princes who lived in their own in faraway places, this one was some sort of monster. Or maybe he was simply wicked. Or maybe he was sad and lonely. 

People loved to speculate on the nature of royalty in towers despite having no evidence at all, as it turned out.

Of course, Connie had never been the type to simply speculate. She was curious and active, and once she moved to Beach City the locals were all too eager to stoke her curiosity about the boy in the sky. He was a remnant of the fallen Gempire. He was the child of powerful enchantresses. He was a witch himself, and the most powerful of all.

Nobody ever seemed keen on just asking the sky boy. After several heated debates and well-constructed powerpoint presentations, Connie could not get permission to hop on the shining crystal warp pad or search for magic people who might take her to the sky. She could only get permission to send a letter.

Dear Prince,

My name is Connie Maheswaran. I moved to Beach City a few months ago and there are rumors that the crystal platform leads to your sky castle. There are other rumors about you, but they aren’t very nice. I move around a lot, so I know what it’s like for people to say mean things because they don’t know you. If you want a friend, I do too! I’ll come back here every day for your letter! Please write back if you exist.

Sincerely,

Connie

She hadn’t expected a reply at all. A prince in the sky being interested in her boring human life seemed unlikely. She wasn’t even eleven yet, and ten year olds had horribly boring lives despite her best efforts. Connie decided she would check for a month for proper scientific vigor before moving onto a life of no friends.

She received a reply within the week.

From there, Connie had met Garnet and Pearl - Steven’s odd go-betweens who moved the letters back and forth. Steven was not allowed to leave his home for mysterious reasons and Connie was not allowed to go “gallivanting around some dangerous sky castle” because she had “parents who loved her”. 

The injustice of the situation was, perhaps, as wicked a cruelty as any curse, and had driven her forward with a singular purpose - she was going to rescue her locked away prince if it was the last thing she did. When people heard, they asked, “Don’t princes rescue princesses?”

“That’s the patriarchy talking,” she explained patiently to adults and children alike. “I know some really good resources to read up on it, if you’d like.”

Because, aside from her drive to rescue Steven, Connie’s secondary love was that of research and books. Being an athlete and an active player in her own story was no reason to slack in her studies, after all. And it was with that in mind that Connie entered the shimmering castle of Steven Universe.

Sharp eyes and a sharper mind absorbed every bit of scenery, memorized every hall and room as Steven toured her around her home for the semester. She memorized Steven as well - because one should certainly know the person one was trying to save. She memorized every line, every muscle, the way he carried himself, the sound of his stride - everything she had longed to know but never dared to imagine.

Because, for all her determination, somewhere along the way she had ended up crushing on her magical sky prince. She did her best to push it down. Through their letters, through the coyness of Garnet and Pearl, Connie had gathered that Steven was looking for someone to wed. Her fairy tale and historical research had declared this standard procedure, so there was no point in hoping for love.

But his voice . His face. His hand in hers had made her heart pound like a rough round of tennis. His adorable smile had tugged a matching one onto her face. His words had snuck inside her chest and held her tight, and she knew she was thoroughly doomed.

Years of holding back in her letters and Connie was nevertheless the victim of love at first sight. She was so enraptured it took her hours to notice any patterns, anything suspicious in Steven’s behaviors. And if it took so long, she wasn’t going to stand a chance in cracking the case and figuring out how to rescue Steven from his horrible (but very luxurious) prison.

She forced herself to stop acting like a silly lovesick child who was only interested in a cute face and a cuter voice, and she noticed that she wasn’t having much luck talking about anything other than herself.

What did Steven like to do in the castle? Oh, that was boring. She wouldn’t be interested in that. What did she do for fun? He was sure he could make it happen for her. Her wish was his command, and then he smiled and squeezed her hand like she was the most important person in the world.

What did Steven eat? Oh, he ate everything. The important thing was what her favorite food was. He’d be happy to retrieve whatever she liked to eat and with the warps through Garnet and Pearl. It could come from anywhere on Earth. His dad was an amazing cook, and if Connie was going to spend the semester there, she’d surely meet him and they’d hit it off great.

What was Steven planning for his future? Oh, just boring prince stuff. No need to worry about that. He’d keep helping people like always. But college sounded so exciting! He wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything. He was going to hang on her every word with the kind of devotion one normally found in a beloved family dog.

And Connie, simpleton that she was, clung to the attention with delight. Several years deprived of friendship had left her, perhaps, overeager to savor attention - especially the attention of someone very attractive and charming who she’d been smitten with long before today. She wasn’t exactly blessed in the romance department either.

She tried to be a little more active in the conversation once she realized. Nevertheless, her practice with diplomacy was falling flat. No matter how artfully, how delicately, she tried to turn the subject back to Steven, somehow she always wound up talking about herself. She could feel her exasperation clip through as her throat dried and her tongue grew tired of wagging.

Steven noticed as well, starting to cringe from the roughness in her speech. He suggested, awkwardly that he leave her for the evening so she could adjust to her quarters, and she regretfully agreed. He didn’t seem happy about any of it, but it was too soon to gleam any real insight into the secretive prince.

He dropped her off at her door, and once she was sure he had gone she walked to the vanity - an apt fit, she supposed, for someone who had spent a whole day talking about herself. She groaned as she looked into the mirror, hands braced against the beige wood. “What are you doing , Connie?”

“What are you doing, Connie?”

She squealed as she spun around, Garnet raising an eyebrow at her from the corner of the room. “Hello! Hi. I was just, uh, talking to myself. Figuring out the plan for the evening. You know, the usual.”

Garnet leaned over Connie’s bed, a lavish, pretty thing, and began to fluff the pillows as if that was the reason she had appeared. Maybe that was the reason she appeared. Her voice was sweet and light as she asked, “Are you having a nice time?”

“Who wouldn’t?” she said, which was a question. Oh, dear. She hoped that wasn’t rude. She hoped Garnet wasn’t contagious. Connie giggled nervously. “Steven is a wonderful host. The castle is beautiful. Well, palace, actually. Now that I’m here, it’s obvious that castle is the wrong word.”

“Is it?”

“Mmm. It is. A castle is a military fortification,” she babbled. She was talking with her hands too, nerves desperate to go somewhere as she came to stand beside the bed with Garnet. “A palace is where royalty lives. Much more luxurious. Built for luxury. Not built to keep out danger. Easy mistake.”

“I wonder,” Garnet mused quietly, and blissfully shutting Connie’s stupid running lips, “whether all castles must be built against physical attacks, or if there’s-”

Her words fell off as they tended to do. Her face twisted into a scowl. Steven had been vague about it, but Connie had picked up the pieces over the years. It seemed standard curse fare - those who might have been too helpful to the hero had their hands tied. Connie had expected blocks like these.

Garnet could not ask questions like “Wouldn’t it be terrible if Steven’s curse was that his hands are secretly made of cheese?” if Steven’s curse was that his hands were secretly made of cheese, because that was hardly a question at all - it was a fact, a statement disguised as a question.

“I’m sure castles can be built for all kinds of things,” Connie said lightly, and tried hiding questions in statements instead. “Like evil magic, for instance. People might want to hide away, especially if everyone inside had already been cursed.”

Garnet chuckled. “Connie, what did you come here to do?”

She took a deep breath, and let it fall out in a huff. No answers there. “Well, I came here to study another culture and meet my friend. I don’t know much about magic. Are there spells for making food? For building supplies?” She looked slyly at Garnet. “Maybe you could build magic into the walls. Give them eyes and ears to report to dangerous witches. As far as I know, the possibilities are limitless.”

Garnet watched her a moment, then hummed. “How do you feel about the color violet?”

She stared, trying to parse the response. Was it a code of some kind? What could that mean? Her eyes scanned the room for something purple, but her room was covered in feminine pinks and reds and whites, straight off of a romantic card. Connie sighed and shrugged. “It’s fine. I prefer blue.”

“Who knows what you’ll learn to like with purple laying all around the castle?” Garnet grabbed Connie’s suitcase and hoisted it onto a chair for easier unpacking. A small bow and a smile. “If that’s more convenient, could I leave?”

Connie stared for a moment, as puzzled by that as everything else before it clicked. That was how you wrapped a goodbye in a question. She laughed at the politeness and bowed slightly. “Thank you, Garnet. Always a pleasure to see you.”

The gem left and Connie decided unpacking could wait for later. The light was growing dim as the sun sank behind the mountains, but she hadn’t expected to get sleep tonight regardless. How could she when adventure and destiny awaited her in slick and shining halls?

She snagged her notebook, black and the size of her palm, and a pen. She had read too many stories of heroes who wound up lost and found themselves facing down a minotaur or a murderous husband. She, however, would be writing directions as she went. For all her other flaws, Connie would never be the sort to walk into a place unprepared.

Like all things of the absurdly wealthy, Connie found the castle repetitive and dull after exploring the first few rooms. Most of them were bedrooms and bathrooms as if the place was supposed to be ready for dozens of visitors at the drop of a hat.

She opened the door to a large, empty room - slick yellow gold tile floors below, a chandelier hanging above - wide windows that would catch every drop of evening sunlight. There was a comfy looking table, just big enough for two, nestled up by the window. A ballroom for a party, set up for an intimate dinner. Stranger and stranger.

Connie wondered, with the tiniest touch of jealousy, how many suitors had sat there with Steven as they negotiated the intricacies of a political marriage, then quickly shoved the feelings aside. What Steven did in his own time was none of her business. She was out to break a curse, not land a husband.

Her eyes continued to drift across the room and she found a touch of violet - a record player, purple in every place, resting on a table. She approached cautiously, her feet nearly silent on the tile. Despite her horror movie feelings, no jump scare awaited. The record player sat as still as ever.

“This might be mean, but I don’t think I should play you,” Connie whispered, feeling as if anything louder would disturb it. “I mean, you’re a very pretty record player, but what if you’re cursed? I could catch it. Or what if you’re an object trying to curse me?”

The record player, being a record player, said nothing in response, and Connie groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I haven’t even been here a day and I’m talking to inanimate objects. Get it together, Connie!”

She pivoted out of the ballroom. More bathrooms. More bedrooms. A kitchen with an elaborate array of foods and a purple apple on the floor. That was most definitely nefarious magic, and she walked straight away from that. In other rooms were was lavender paper, a purple-colored pencil, a purple ouija board. Cursed magic did not appear to be subtle in the slightest. She scolded it for being so blunt.

Connie walked into a library and was immediately so enamored with the place she forgot anything else. Rows of shelves, perhaps six or seven feet tall, lined with books of all types - though she did note a lack of nonfiction and a preference for the fantastical. Another thing to note with a smile - all her favorites were properly alphabetized and in their place. She found some dogeared, which may have been a travesty in her heart, but worth it as she found them highlighted, annotated in Steven’s familiar handwriting.

She tucked the books back on the shelves, her heart glowed from she imagining Steven growing up in this very room, marking up pages so his letters to her would be something worth reading. On her way out, she paused at a purple typewriter on a writing desk. It sat there, innocent and still, as typewriters were wont to do.

Now that was a tempting proposition.

She steadied her resolve. “No. Not today,” and marched out the door before she caved to the desire to type a single sentence. What kind of wicked magic could words bring? She’d read enough fantasy to know all about that. The only thing more awful than typing some curious words would be typing her full name. Then she’d never leave.

Connie came face to face with Pearl in the hallway and paused. She knew all about the wickedness of silence, too. Connie looked at the wordless messenger and asked, although it was a longshot, “Can you tell me anything about the color purple?”

A smile, soft and bitter, as her fingers came to rest against her lips. Pearl hushed the words she couldn’t speak, then slowly reached out for Connie’s hands. She gave them, and Pearl pressed them against her heart, holding them tight.

Connie worked on that one too, trying to puzzle out how it might connect the curse, only to remember Garnet’s question of politeness before she’d left the room. The gesture felt loving, felt tender, and Connie asked, “Are you trying to tell me thank you? Or I’m welcome here? Or that you’re happy I’m here?”

Pearl managed a nod, and Connie’s eyes widened at the confirmation. “Yes or no questions! Can I ask about the magic?”

That same sad, bitter smile as her fingers came to her mouth and Connie scowled. “Total silence on the curse stuff. Got it. You know, I hate being mean, but whoever did this deserves jail time.” She hesitated, and found words starting to babble out again into the silence Pearl couldn’t fill, “At a rehabilitating jail, I mean. You know, our punitive system is actually-”

Pearl raised an eyebrow, then leaned up to the wall to pointedly blow out a candle. Connie laughed. “Yup. bedtime. Not here to lecture about prison reformation. I’ll head to bed. Goodnight, Pearl.”

She took the gem’s fingers with a reassuring squeeze, then followed her previously written instructions safely back to her room. No changing halls, it seemed. No forbidden places. Just an odd, empty castle with voiceless residents and the possibility of an entire color being cursed.

“No one said it would be easy, Connie,” she told herself in the vanity mirror. She tugged her pajamas into place, and tugged on a pair of socks as well, because big, empty palaces in the sky were actually quite chilly. “You cleared the whole semester on purpose. Keep your eyes on the prize and do what you came here for.”

She rushed to bed before the chill could bite her, snuggling under the plush, heavy comforters and drowning in the fluffy mattress beneath. She glared into the mirror from afar, barely able to catch her own eyes in the dark. “Stop talking to yourself, weirdo.”

 Up went the covers over her head, cocooned tight in silken sheets, and off she went to sleep.

Chapter Text

Steven found Connie in the library. He had checked her bedroom first, and he’d done it like a gentleman, in his princely outfit. Two gentle raps on the door. No answer. It was early enough, he guessed, and he called her name in case she was asleep. He called her name a little louder. No answer came.

His heart twisted up with fear, and though it was very rude he couldn’t help but peek in. She wasn’t there, and his heart only continued to twist. Her bed was made already. Had she even slept there? Had he really managed to chase her away that quickly, that she had felt the need to flee in the middle of the night on her first day? She hadn’t even seen his claws. He hadn’t done anything wrong. So why...

But then he saw her suitcase, unzipped and still there, and he laughed with relief.

Connie was exploring. He had read her letters and he knew how she was. He couldn’t really expect his adventurous friend to be tossed into an enchanted castle and spend her morning snoozing. He was sure she had gotten up with the sunrise to prowl the halls and memorize the layout of her new home.

From there, it was easy enough to find her. Steven could guess where Connie would get stuck in her adventuring. Sure enough, he found her in the library with a book in her hand as she curled up on the loveseat. He hadn’t been the first to find her - the side table had a gleaming silver tray with a cup of hot tea and an array of cheeses and fruits.

“Good morning.” She smiled as she looked up from the pages, and for a moment his eyes stung from the relief that she was really here, completely comfortable. He hoped his voice didn’t sound too weepy as he asked, “Did you find something good?”

She tilted the book up so he could see the cover, a painted forest with some twisting letting for the title. “Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I figured since I’ve jumped into one, I might as well do the research.”

Steven sat beside her on the couch, warmth rushing up his side where they touched as he peered over her shoulder. “I always thought they were a little too… bloody.” He wrinkled his nose. “I hope you don’t think you’re gonna have that kind of time here.”

“Of course not! But these versions are classic. You can’t ever go wrong with them. Do you have a favorite?” She giggled and flipped through the pages, pointing to the index of chapters at the beginning.

“Rapunzel,” he answered without hesitation, without needing the reminder. But it seemed to him that gushing about his favorite story when she was a guest and she had only just got there would be very selfish, would be just the kind of thing that would make claws spring out. He pivoted to her for safety. “What about you? Which ones do you like most?”

“It might be a little weird, but I like Goldilocks.” She was adorable, perfect, heavenly, and his heart skipped a beat just from watching her chew on a grape as she spoke. He could spend the rest of his life just listening to her speak.

“I always thought it was so different. There’s a pretty little girl, but she’s the villain. She’s entitled and thoughtless. These poor bears are just living their lives and some brat messes up all their stuff.” She laughed, and he loved her more desperately than ever. “You know, in some versions, Baby Bear forgives her and they’re friends.”

“So you like that the bears aren’t un bear able?” He grinned, never one to pass up the opportunity for a good pun.

She flipped the book higher to hide her giggling face, but he caught a glimpse of it even so. Connie liked his awful jokes. His heart soared at the sound of her laugh, the adorable crinkle of her eyes. He was hoping too hard for something so early, but he couldn’t help but want it.

Connie let the book fall shut, fall into her lap, as she leaned back against the couch.  As her cheek propped up on her hand, her head tilted and her hair cascaded, and Steven struggled with being entranced by every movement. He barely heard her speak. “I was worried you’d be different from your letters.”

He thought about his letters. He thought about his careful wording, his confessions, his sense of humor. He had thought he had been true to himself in them, as much as one could be on a page compared to in person. Steven swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. “Am I?”

Her smile grew. “You’re just like I hoped you’d be. Even better.”

Steven was pale, and he’d always been a horrible blusher. He was sure that red had filled his cheeks so his round cheeks were tomato-red, and any further talk down this line would surely get his ears pinked too. 

“You too!” he blurted. “You’re really cool. I love talking to you! I, um, we could talk about books if you wanted. I don’t know how busy you are, or what work you brought with you, but I’d love spending time with you.”

“I don’t know…” she began.

So, she was going to be busy the whole time she was here. He reached across her with a sad sigh, apologizing for the reach as he pressed her against the couch. He couldn’t really blame her. She was a busy person. His fingers picked through some grapes, a few slices of cheddar as she mused to himself that maybe he could find some other way to win her heart without interrupting her studies.

But, as he settled back she squeaked, “You know, on second thought, it’s a Saturday! I just got here. Might as well enjoy myself.”

He beamed. “Really?”

Steven couldn’t understand the flustered look she had, the eager, emphatic nod of her head, but he wasn’t about to question it. They talked about books over brunch and Steven helped her explore the shelves. They giggled as they reminisced over their childhood favorites, their elaborately written letters full of debates about plot and characters and endings.

All too often, it felt like Connie was trying to ask him about magic and curses. She knew Pearl’s and Garnet’s curses and he had mentioned on occasion he couldn’t leave the castle, but his heart thudded with fear once more as he wondered if she had found him out, if she had somehow discovered he had claws and a tail when he acted like a monster.

“I think the world is good, mostly,” Connie said, chewing her lip. “I just think it’s a shame we live in a world where people can be cursed for no reason. Things like that just aren’t fair.”

“There’s always love.” Steven reached for one of his collected fairy tales, holding the small, beat-up paperback with a tender smile. “I know we argued about that as kids. You always said you thought love wasn’t strong enough.”

Connie frowned as she looked at the shelves, her eyes slowly roaming across his collection, before falling back to the book in his hands. “Well, we’re not kids anymore. It depends on the kind of love, I think. Sometimes, people love for selfish, greedy reasons. They love you for what you can give them. Status and power.”

He laughed, holding up the book. “But that’s not true love. What you’re talking about is just… it’s not love at all.”

“It is.” She didn’t laugh back, her lips twisted down ever deeper. “Love can be an awful thing, especially when you don’t want it and someone else does.”

“I’m sorry.” He paused. Over the years, he had gotten better at it. One of his inherited curses was to feel things too deeply, and the twist of Connie’s face stung as surely as a knife in his own heart. Her pain was his own, but he was better about that now. He had a wall there, a separation, that he had never managed as a child.

So he didn’t burst into tears, or beg her to stop being so sad. He reached out and gently put his hand on her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She managed a smile for him, small but still there. A small clearing of her throat and she explained, “I had a bad time with love. It was ugly and mean. Not that kind that would break a curse. But it’s probably not as bad as you think.”

As Steven’s nerves picked up, as his fear crested, his eyes flicked back to the book. Love was tarnished for her, then, and there was a terrible anxiety that came with that. He could only hope it wasn’t the kind of selfish, greedy feeling that came with teeth and claws. But he wasn’t afraid just for him, so that couldn’t count. Could it?

Somehow, he managed to keep a steady voice. “Do you still believe in love? The good kind.”

“Of course I do, silly!” She laughed and gave his shoulder a shove. “I just think there’s other stuff just as good for fighting evil and breaking curses. You haven’t won yet, Steven.”

His laugh sounded just a bit hysterical as he joined in. So his chances weren’t ruined. He still had a shot at sweeping her off her feet, even if she had some sour experience with love. That was alright - he had some bad ones too. No reason this couldn’t be the time it worked. And it wasn’t like Steven didn’t have years of experience fixing people.

He’d been playing therapist for cursed gems his whole life.

Steven had plans - big romantic ones. He was a musical genius, and had wooed many a suitor with his skills. He took her to the music room, full of gorgeous instruments his father had gotten him, and he intended to play music until she fell for him. To his utter shock, she grabbed a violin from the wall to join in.

He knew she could play, but he hadn’t expected her to leap in, to follow along as best she could and laugh when she fumbled the notes. There was no fakeness to it, no attempt at regal poise. She played silly, simple songs with him and he found that it was his heart being won over yet again.

There were a few places he could warp, safely away from any humans. His favorite was an empty place out among the stars, a garden that had once been his mother’s that withered away unattended. Once he had helped cure the gem that was there - a poor thing forever bound unmoving to the ground - he was able to use his green thumb to liven up the place. It flourished with life, now.

He drank in her every reaction to the place he had put so much work into. It was still a young garden yet, and there wasn’t much diversity in the flowers. They were young, and the trees he had planted were saplings still, but Connie took it all in with wide eyed wonder and praised him endlessly.

“I hope all this can be enough,” Steven whispered, holding her hand as they sat on the stairs. They could see the garden all around them, the vast emptiness of space overhead, but where they sat was pristine, still crystal.

She wasn’t looking at him, which was good, because his nerves were too strung out to be looked at. She was staring up at the sky, awes over a new arrangement of stars. “I don’t want you to feel stuck or bored, or-”

“Steven, I know your world is small, but it’s beautiful. It has you in it. How could I be bored?” And she smiled, her eyes full of foreign stars.

His fingers wrapped around her slender ones. He knew he shouldn’t dare to hope, not with all the times he’d been let down before, but he couldn’t stop himself. Something felt different this time, more right than before. It was hard to think of anything but the fact that he finally had a real chance.

And he had never wanted someone to love him just because he loved them so dearly. She was his best friend, his lifelong penpal, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. Not this time. His voice was hoarse. “We can have dinner together every night, if you want. I’ll make sure it’s always something amazing.”

She agreed.

From that moment on, he might have been a bit clingy. Just a touch. Not a moment passed that he didn’t find himself searching for her in the next week. When she wanted to talk to him, he relished in it. When she had work to do, he lingered silently by her side. On occasion, he practically begged her to come play music with him, or come to the garden again, or relax in the library.

He was her adoring lap dog and he couldn’t even find it within himself to be embarrassed about it.

Among all the sweeping her off her feet, he tried to find out more about her. She had a small black notebook and constantly flipped it out, jotting down notes whenever he talked about magic. He quizzed her about it. Did she want to be a witch? Could humans be witches? Was she curious about magic history? Was she under some magic curse she sought to be free of?

She brushed off his questions with a wink and a smile and he was too lovesick to do anything but accept it. As best he could tell, Connie seemed to be free of curses. That was fine - she had struggles, after all. Everyone had struggles, and Steven was always there to help with them. He had to, after all. 

He gently pushed and prodded, trying to find out what had been so awful about love. She caved, eventually. Steven could get anyone to talk about their problems, given enough time. He managed to get to her in the library, flickering candles keeping the mood soft as they went through another charcuterie plate.

“His name was Kevin,” she confessed, picking little bites of a slice of salami. “He was a senior when I was a freshman in highschool, and then he was a senior for two more years. He couldn’t manage to graduate. It wasn’t bad at first, I guess. Some bullying.”

“Bullying?” he frowned.

“Yeah. You know. Knocking books out of my hands. Told me my glasses made me look stupid. Telling me to go get a makeover because I looked so fucking stupid.” She grinned slightly as he jumped from the sudden swear. His cheeks pinked as she shrugged. “So, I don’t know. I kept talking to you, and you were so encouraging and warm and boosted my confidence, so I decided to try it. The makeover, I mean.”

“That sounds nice,” he said, a bit confused as his brows wrinkled together. “And, I’m glad I helped but… you never told me about this stuff.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Connie picked carefully through her words. “But you boosted my self-esteem. I decided to be more confident, talk to more people. I cut my hair, switched glasses for contact lenses, and started dressing more fashionably. I actually got kind of popular.”

He felt a wry smile creep across his face. “I can’t believe Earth is a place where someone like you isn’t the most popular girl in school.”

“Mmm. Very alien of you,” she snickered. “I was a very dorky nerd, and then I wasn’t and… And I guess I was finally popular enough for him. He started hitting on me, trying to get me to date him. He didn’t care that I wasn’t interested.”

Steven bristled at the thought, imagining some brute cornering Connie with a sneer, brushing back her hair, complimenting her in a way that would make anyone’s skin crawl. But it wasn’t about his feelings, so he only said as calmly as he could manage, “He wouldn’t leave you alone?”

“Nope.” She heaved a sigh. “So I agreed to a date. I thought that if I said yes, if I showed him that we wouldn’t have any fun together, he’d stop. Instead, I had a horrible time and he loved me even more. He said that our kiss had chemistry and I said his cologne made me gag.” She rolled her eyes. “He said we could rule the school together, angels among garbage people.”

Steven groaned, his lip curling with disgust despite his best efforts. All he’d ever wanted was love - and breaking the curse, of course - but love had seemed so wonderful. He longed for marriage, for domesticity, for a partner. And, apparently, life on Earth had at least the occasional Kevin, acting as if love wasn’t enough in itself. As if it was only a tool to get more important things.

He shook his head. “When you said love can be awful, this is what you meant. That awful guy Kevin made it awful for you.”

She burst out laughing, doubling over on the couch. “He didn’t ruin love! He was a bad guy and a bad date. He just proved my argument.” She grabbed cheese with a little more merriment and pointed at him. “Love isn’t always good or fun or nice. It’s not the solution to every curse.”

So, that was what he was up against - a horrible first-time love. Doing better than that was easy, but he had to do more. He had to overwrite Kevin’s terribleness so he was out of her mind, so that when love sprang to mind it was him and his castle and the magic of romance. A simple problem with a simple solution.

He assembled his companions in his room as he made a game plan - a big one. There would be nothing held back, now. There would be romance, unfiltered and dripping from every moment. Everything would be picture book perfect, fairy tale perfect. There would be I love yous and kissing and, by the end of the night, he would never be a beast again.

“Okay, team,” he said as he paced his room. Heavy paws thumped against the floor, claws clicking against the tile. There would be scratches, but his room was a disaster. There was no point in trying to be careful anymore. In the privacy of his own room, there was hardly any point in pretending to be a man - that’s why he moved on all fours, tail thrashing.

“Our goal is to be so unbelievably romantic I find true love and get married. Any ideas?”

He found his companions staring at him blankly and burst into nervous giggles. “Right. Okay. Don’t know why I keep asking. Probably so it doesn’t feel like I’m talking to myself. Which I’m not, because you’re listening. Right.”

Steven stopped his prowling to turn back to them, his rump coming to the floor and tail comfortably wrapping around. “Here’s the mission. I go get the fanciest most romantic food in the world for dinner. We’ll get some nice candles. Pearl, I’ll write you a letter for Dad so he can choose the mood music.”

She gave him a flat look and he rolled his dark eyes with a groaning growl. His voice was rough like this, beastial, so that he sounded like a bear had learned to speak rather than a human doing his best. “Oh, come on! Don’t look at me like that!” 

The look persisted and he growled, back on all fours, head drooped low as his muted roar rumbled in his chest. “Fine! I’ll give the letter to Garnet. You can make Connie a ballgown, something really romantic and feminine. How about that?”

She perked up and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slid down to lay on his belly, exhausted even from just a few moments of conversation. Some days it was like herding cats with them. “Okay. Great. Amethyst can get the ballroom ready, so make sure to lock it up so she doesn’t get interrupted. If we can get all that done, with that much romance, it has to work.”

Garnet sat beside him, setting a hand on the thigh that threatened to burst from his clothes. “Why is this so different? Why didn’t you act like this for anyone else?”

“Because…” He closed his eyes, and his claws flexed with a painful squeal against the tile. “Because I don’t care if it breaks the curse this time. I want her to love me even if I stay like this.”

Garnet hugged him tight, whispering in his ear, “Are you in love with her?”

But it wasn’t really a question, so he hugged her back without a word.

Chapter Text

Connie could not help but be concerned with Steven’s desire to help. All too often, Garnet would come with a mouth full of questions, and Steven would give his all to answer them. Pearl would come and do everything she could to communicate, and Steven would fumble as he tried to translate for her.

“You don’t have to do that all the time,” she said, looking at the exhaustion on his face each time one of his guardians left again. “You’re allowed to take breaks, you know. You’ve got to take care of yourself too.”

But he just smiled and waved her off, because it was no trouble at all. He liked to do it. And yet it didn’t seem like he liked it. It felt like even the smallest inconvenience would bring Steven rushing, desperate to assist anyone he could. Was that the curse, then? Destined to be overly helpful? It would explain a lot.

“What do you mean he’s in a meeting?” Connie yelped, looking down at the letter with dismay. Pearl winced at the girl skimmed it again, growing more irate by the second. She shook the letter furiously. “He’s still doing this? Playing therapist for any gem that comes knocking?”

Pearl shrugged, an awkward, nervous smile stuck on her face as Connie started to pace. “This is ridiculous. It’s absolutely insane! He’s been playing therapist since he was ten years old with no training, always on call… A person shouldn’t live like that!”

She wheeled on Pearl who, of course, could only do her best to agree through a series of awkward expressions. Connie groaned and lowered the letter. “Sorry. It’s not right to take it out on you when you can’t even talk.”

Talking to herself was, troublingly, growing ever more persistent. How could one not when Steven was the only person in the palace capable of halfway decent conversation? Connie pinched her nose and grit her teeth.

“It’s fine. I’ve spent the past, what? Three weeks? Doing basically nothing, but hang out with Steven. As fun as that is, I don’t think that’s exactly getting me any closer to breaking the curses you’re all stuck with.”

Pearl looked pained and Connie smiled. “I know. I haven’t been at my best. But I’ll quit following Steven around and get back to business. Thanks for the reminder, Pearl. I needed it.”

She left before Pearl could get too miserable, a little pat on the gem’s shoulder. She spent another day scouring the palace, reading books on magic, suspiciously eyeing the purple objects in every room. 

Glaring at purple objects.

Ranting at purple objects about how she wouldn’t be tempted by their secrets, and that she knew how that story went, buddy, and she wasn’t falling for it that easy.

Kneeling in front of a purple pen and begging it to explain what it was and why it was here and just asking for any sign this wouldn’t end in a magical possession if she wrote a few words.

So. Same as usual, really. No progress made. She returned to her room in the evening with some colorful word choices as frustration got the best of her, only to yelp as she found Pearl standing there. She was in the exact same spot Connie had left her.

Oh dear.

“Please tell me you moved today and I wasn’t supposed to dismiss you or something,” Connie whispered.

Pearl rolled her eyes at the thought, so that was a relief, then smiled instead. She gestured to the bed, and there was a very poofy bright pink gown, with a small white letter on top. Her name was on it, so she took the letter, but she still side-eyed the pink dress like it was going to bite as she tugged out the page inside.

You are cordially invited to the grand ballroom for dinner, dancing, and intimate conversation.  Dinner will be to die for - very fancy food from around the world. Pearl has provided you with a dress, Garnet will provide you with music, and Steven Universe will be your companion for the evening. Hope to see you there!

Sincerely,

Steven

She smiled, her fingers resting on her beaming lips as she whispered, “Steven, you charmer.” 

But, for all his charm, that still left the matter of the dress. Connie tugged on a corner with a nervous little laugh. “It’s very nice, but it’s… traditional? Old fashioned? I don’t know how to wear a dress like this. I don’t even know how to walk in heels.”

Pearl beamed and put a hand over her heart. Ah, so Pearl would also be her teacher for the evening.

Connie chuckled as she picked up the dress. It was a pretty thing, although it wasn’t her style. She preferred slim, sleek dresses that weren’t a huddle to run in and didn’t drown her in yards of wasted fabric. She also avoided pink. It clashed with her skin and hair unless it was a very precise shade, and though some girls adored clashing colors, she had grown out of that kind of style years ago.

“This is awful to ask,” she said uncertainly. “But you don’t have anything else, do you? I’m not very good with puff. Or pink.”

Pearl frowned, but not in a mean way. Her brows were wrinkled up with thought. Soon, she had the dress in her hands, eyes closed tight. Like a cup filling with water, blue flowed up through the dress, waving slowly from the bottom of the skirt to the tops of the shoulders, so the whole thing was a new color.

Connie’s eyes widened. “Magic. You still have magic! What else can you do? Can you get rid of the poofs? Can you-”

She looked back up at Pearl, but the gem had sweat on her brow. She seemed wobbly, tired. Long before her time, there were rumors that gems had all kinds of powerful magics, able to grow furniture with a snap of their fingers, or turn a shoe into a pumpkin. But terrible stories had happened, wickedness had bloomed, and now it seemed that curses ran wild and only the tiniest of blessings remained.

From the miserable look on Pearl’s face, the answer was obvious. This was the most her magic could do now - no matter what it may have done in the past.

She cleared her throat and looked away. “Thank you for that. It was very kind. I… I appreciate all your help, but I promise that the second I get into this dress, I’m going to look like a kid playing pretend.”

Connie ran her thumbs across the now blue fabric, letting herself sulk in the dread for a moment of trying her best in front of Steven. He pulled off the princely look so well. Her brows came together the more she thought about it. 

Hadn’t she said she was in a fairy tale? And wasn’t this what fairy tales were made of? Balls and gowns and princes and being willing to play pretend, if only for the length of a picture book? Maybe she would look silly. Maybe she wouldn’t belong. But she could fake it tonight, just this once, couldn’t she?

“I’ll try,” she said out loud. “Help me get it on, and thank you for making it. I’ll give it my best shot.”

Pearl seemed all too happy to oblige. Nimble fingers raced up her back, putting buttons into place and setting her up in a lovely gown of blue. Despite her apprehensions, she didn’t look quite as out of place in it as she had imagined. She slipped her feet into high heels and her toes protested straight away, but she kept her balance and that was victory enough.

Connie was not the epitome of grace, however, as she made her way to the ballroom. She clomped her way there like a clumsy horse and could only pray that Steven hadn’t actually meant the dancing part in his letter - she was a hopeless dancer in the best of moments. Unless the shoes were enchanted, she’d be out of luck. And she’d be quite peeved if the shoes were enchanted without her knowledge.

Steven was already there, and when she opened the door to the magnificent sunlit room he stared at her with the sweetest smile. There was a flush crawling up his cheeks, which charmed her all the further. Connie allowed herself to savor the sight of him in his fancy outfit, a shining crown atop his head, though there was nothing to her that would be worthy of a magic prince, and tried to enjoy her pretending.

Tonight, she was a princess. When she walked to him, she tried her best to avoid any clomping and asked, “So what’s the occasion?”

He shrugged. His eyes flicked away in an obvious lie, an obvious secret. “You’re here. We’re having a nice time together. After you came all this way to see me I thought you deserved something special.”

“It’s enough just to be with you, silly.” She was loath to call out his lies, his avoidance. With magic about there must be traps. But perhaps not as many as she thought, if magic was so weak. Perhaps there could be a little more pressure. “Don’t tell me you went through all this just to impress me. You had to have another reason.”

“You deserve to have someone take care of you just because you’re wonderful. If it’s too much, just think of it as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” He smiled, and took her hand in his. Tenderly, his lips pressed against her fingers, just like all the movies.

Her throat tightened, and though she had tried to guard her heart before, tonight she was pretending. She let her heart soar, let herself hope, and whispered, “You’re a hard man to argue with.”

Steven grinned. “Yeah. It’s a curse. But let’s get into dinner.”

They chatted as they sat down, and Connie couldn’t deny there was a thrill as she sat beside him at the table she had once been jealous of, that she assumed he used to court potential suitors.

To her shock, he had cooked, and the food was delicious. He started them with lobster bisque - sinfully rich with bread that was still warm from the oven. The crust crunched beautifully in her mouth, the butter a glorious golden yellow. Although they were in Steven’s own territory and laws did not apply, he assumed correctly that she wouldn’t want alcohol and served it with sparkling cider.

Nevertheless, she found herself bolder and drunk on his companionship as she made her way through an especially beautiful cut of roast beef, bright pink center with a gorgeous crackle on the outside.  She was curious, and she supposed tonight would be the night she found out if the walls were listening.

“The thing I really can’t believe is that, after all these years, you’re still playing therapist to anyone who asks.” She pointed her knife at him, scolding and wrinkling her brows together. “And that’s not even counting all the emotional labor you give out to Garnet and Pearl every day. I thought you stopped!”

Steven blinked. “Why would I stop? I’m helping people.”

“But at what cost ?” she asked emphatically. She went back to her beef, dipping it in a lovely au jus and savoring the swallow before continuing on. “You aren’t doing it like a real therapist. You don’t have work hours or a salary.”

He gestured to the food with a laugh. “Money’s not a problem.”

“It’s not just about what you can buy,” Connie said. “It’s about feeling valued instead of used. It’s about being able to take breaks, real breaks, and live your own life.”

“My life is the castle.” Steven frowned and his eyes drifted to the big windows, to the sun resting above the mountain tops as it considered falling for the evening.

“Is that your real curse?” she asked, because she had no time for dalliances like gazing emotionally out a window.

Still, the question was new even for her. Connie had never been so bold, so direct, but she was getting sick of all the coyness and secrecy. Frustration had always been a tricky emotion for her, and when it burst free she tended to push harder than she should. She leaned across the table. “You’re trapped here by magic. That’s why you like Rapunzel.”

He shook his head with a small, almost condescending laugh. His hand went under his chin, propping it up as his eyes went half-lidded with romance. “That’s not the curse. And that’s a really boring thing to talk about, anyway. Politics seems like a hard major. What’s that like?”

“All we’ve done is talk about me,” she said fiercely. “I’m not here to be another one of your appointments, Steven. I’m here to be your friend.”

Oh, well that got a reaction. He leaned back like she’d slapped him. “Of course not! I didn't think of you like that. I… I want tonight to be fun! I want to dance with you.”

“Bad luck there, Steven. I might have figured out how to look like a pretty girl, but it stops at fashion. I don’t know makeup. I don’t like shopping. I never learned how to dance.” She scoffed, and looked back to her food. She could feel her toes pinching her heels, remembered the clomping, and definitely was not going to ruin the princess illusion by failing at dance.

“Okay, that?” he said, starting to smile wide. “That is something I want to fix, all on my own. Let me teach you to dance tonight - not as an appointment - as friends. ”

'All on my own' was some weird phrasing, but her own stupid emotions got in the way as humiliation boiled up her face. Connie shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll have any luck in these heels, Steven.”

He stood from the small table, his plate already finished, and extended his hand. His smile never wavered, though she was sure her embarrassment must have been noticeable. “Who cares about shoes? Kick them off and we’ll learn to dance barefoot.”

She couldn't say no to an offer like that, not when he made her heart flutter. Connie polished off the last couple bties of her meat and another mouthful of mashed potatoes, and then she rushed off to the dance floor, terrible heel coordination and all. She could have sworn she heard him whisper, “Behave!” to the purple record player as he dropped a vinyl disk under the needle.

Connie kept the heels as actually admitting defeat and going barefoot was too big of a blow for her pride to bear. Instead, she requested a slow dance and stared down at her feet as he tried to explain a few different steps. So far, she had not fallen on her face or clomped, so that was great.

“How do you know so much about dancing?” she asked, brows furrowed with concentration as she glared at her shoes. “Is that a prince thing? You were born with the knowledge to be a great dancer.”

Steven giggled, bubbly and cute and gosh she wished she didn’t have to stare at her feet so much. “No! My dad loves music, and when I said I wanted to learn ballroom stuff, we would go out to the garden to practice.”

She laughed, doing her best to brave tearing her eyes from her clumsy feet to his eyes instead. “Why go to the garden when you have a whole ballroom ready?”

“I didn't want to ruin the floors.” He shrugged.

She blinked, yet another odd thing. But, this time, there were no other words to distract her from it. Connie pushed again, “How would dancing practice ruin the floors?”

Steven looked worried for a moment and tugged her into a twirl. Caught off guard she stumbled from the sudden turn and thudded against his chest, the hollow sound and broad warmth against her front making her stupidly romantic yet again. By the time she had her balance, both in body and mind, he was smiling again. 

“Scuff marks from sneakers,” he said casually. “Easier to practice somewhere else.”

She sighed, back to looking at her feet. No stories. No princess. She ought to lock herself up in her room and go back to studying for all the progress she was making. Quietly, she asked, “Why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I am talking to you,” he said and squeezed her hands. “Haven’t you been having fun? All the books, the music, dinner? Haven’t you been happy?”

“Of course I have,” she said. She stopped the shuffling of her feet, looking into his eyes as her heart sank. Was she that cold? That professional? She thought she had been doing both alright, both as a friend and as an adventurer, but the pain in his eyes sliced at her soul. “I’ve written to you my whole life. I dreamed of coming here. Steven, my time with you is everything I wanted. More than I wanted.”

His forehead met hers, almost pleading. They were pleading, because his hands squeezed her shoulders and she could feel the need in them. “Then enjoy it, Connie. I’m trying to give you everything you could want. I’m giving you everything I have, but you keep asking about magic and curses and exploring the castle. I don’t get what you want.”

She laughed - disbelief and dismay instead of joy. “You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am! Haven’t you noticed?” he cried. He stepped back, sweeping his hands around the floor. “I… I mean look at tonight. Look at us right now! I’m trying to give you wealth and nice things and a good time. You don’t have to worry when you’re with me, Connie. You don’t have to work! I’ll do all of it for you! What else could you want ?”

She stepped forward, very carefully, and let her hand fall to his cheek. His panic vanished in an instant, stilled by the tender touch.

“Steven, you’re my friend. I don’t want all of that,” she murmured. “I just want to help you.”

Steven stumbled back, and as he did his body shifted. She watched as he grew, towering at least a foot over her, maybe more. The breadth of him soon matched, his whole body swelling with dense muscle. Short, pink fur quickly sprouted from head to toe, and though her gut told her that it must have hurt, there didn’t seem to be any sign of pain. Magic again, she supposed.

Connie caught a brief glimpse of his face as it turned bestial. Lion leaped out at her first - a round, cat-like look to it, that was broken up with tusks. The angle could change it though, from one side she might have called it cute, but as he moved she could feel the stem of her brain react - that was a beast stalking her in the night. A predator.

He held up his hands to cover his face, but those had shifted into paws - paws with permanently extended claws. Her analytical mind once again caught as odd - cheetahs had permanent claws as track shoes, but lions could retract. Steven’s legs, more like haunches, ended in huge feet with ended once again with extended, sharpened points.

His crown clattered to the ground as he bent forward, and her brain buzzed with science as she tried to put it all together. Then, just as suddenly, she stopped all her musings. Steven was cowering.

She stared, shocked and wide-eyed and terrified - not for her safety, but for his fate. No wonder he’d been so quiet and miserable. He had been into a body that was not his own - one that would make him ugly and monstrous to the rest of the world. One he probably hated.

Her heels clomped against the slick tile as she came close because this was no time to practice elegance. She knelt beside him. She hesitated, as she was sure that he was sensitive to all responses, but her hand reached out to touch his paw - no, his hand. It was no good to think of it any other way.

He flinched. Whimpered. No words came. 

It didn’t help that the whimper was not a human kind of sound, far close to the mournful sound of a hungry or wounded cat instead of the sweet tones she was used to. Connie had spent enough time around the cursed that she was willing to assume Steven could not speak, or that his speech would be marred in some way. Curses hated to have their secrets outed.

Her fingers slipped beneath the heavy pads of his paw and the claws of it flexed gently. Another sound from him, and again she could only recall the sounds of big cats like lions and tigers -  a moaning grunt from barrel thick chests and steady chest bones. She held her hand steady, because the claws looked sharp.

“One squeeze for yes and two squeezes for no, okay?” She waited, and then felt the gentle curl around her hand. There was no pressure, or barely any, at least, so it barely counted as a squeeze. But that was enough of a signal.

 “Is it hard to talk like this?” A pause, then a squeeze. “Was this the reason you had trouble talking about yourself?” Yes. “Were you worried I was going to run off screaming or something?” Yes. “Am I the first to see you like this?” No. “Did they run?” Yes.

Well, thank the stars. Someone in this place could answer yes and no questions even while cursed. Connie sat back for a moment to process that. 

Here was the answer. Or here wasn’t an answer, actuallym because she had plenty more questions. Whatever else the curse may have entailed, first and foremost the problem was that Steven turned into some kind of lion-man when he talked about himself too much. Which, admittedly, was a nasty kind of curse she would hate to live with herself, but was nowhere near as bad as, say, going into a blind murderous rage when someone mentioned celery, or exploding like a bomb whenever you lost a particularly hard round of Scrabble.

Connie nodded to herself. This was plenty workable. She’d have to mind those permanent claws, of course, but she’d played with cats before. She could handle an accidental scratch or two. He could answer questions, at least simple ones, so conversation wasn’t even all the way off the table yet. Kissing would probably be unpleasant but, well. She supposed it wasn’t right of her to think of kissing him at all right now, if ever.

The only problem with his shape was that Steven was so ashamed of it.

“Okay then. The music is still playing and we’ve got a little more sunlight before it sets behind the mountains. Would you like another dance?”

He slowly peered up at her, big wet eyes full of confusion. She had expected that much, because if other people had run screaming he probably hadn’t expected her to go back that. And, oh, the floors. The claws. Well, forget the finery and richness. Perhaps some claw marks would liven up the place so it’d quit looking like a museum.

She insisted with a smile, “Please have another dance with me. I promise to do all the talking if you lead.”

His face was a little less emotional that shape, but there was no doubt he was smiling, and his ears seemed to be responding the way an animal’s would. She could use that to gauge his feelings. Steven was happy to dance with her, and proved it by standing. 

Connie did her best not to be too intimidated by the size of him now that he was upright and mostly succeeded. A very heavy hand fell to her waist, another on her own, and they were back to waltzing. She was still awful at it, and he was still graceful, though that could only save the floors so much. 

However, despite that, the claws of his hand never touched hers, not even the slightest accidental brush across her skin. Perhaps the floors were ruined in the name of protecting her skin. Whatever it was, she noticed, and if there had been any doubts in her mind about Steven’s personality shifting with his body, they were all gone now.

“I won’t lie to you,” she said, and saw him stiffen. Oh, dear. This would be a lot of work. She pressed on: “It’s not an easy curse. Claws and having your voice stolen and getting big and furry. It’s all a lot to take in, and it’s not the easiest thing for another person to live with.”

The sound he made was cat-like again, a little vibrating puff of air with a touch of a lion’s groan. She recognized it as a chuff - popular among big cats as a sign of affection and safety. A promise not to attack. A vow of friendship.

Connie continued on with a smile. “But I really care about you, Steven. I came here to help and I want to help, more than anything. I’m not running away. I’m going to give everything I have to break this curse - not for the money or food or pretty palace. I’m doing it for you.”

He smiled again, his eyes sad but hopeful, and they danced slowly as the song came to a close. Standing there, staring up at his face, she resolved something else as well, and said it out loud. “You know what? I don’t care if the curse never breaks, Steven. I don’t even care if you get stuck like this. You’re my friend, my best friend, and I should have focused more on that from the beginning. Breaking the curse is secondary to that.”

The shocked look on his face was all she could ever hope for, and she giggled as she kissed his warm, fuzzy cheek. “Goodnight, Steven. I’ll see you in the morning.”

There was no need for pretending, it seemed. Fancier people than she had gotten too spooked by the appearance of a pink tusked man to do the right thing, which meant her own personality would do just fine. She was all books and science and practicality, and that was enough.

Connie kicked off her heels, scooping them up in her fingers, and headed to bed without another word.

Chapter Text

Somehow, beyond all reason, Connie did not care that he had fangs. She didn’t care that he was massive, and though he spent most of his time hunched over to appear smaller, he doubted that did as much as he hoped. More time passed, and no matter how often, how suddenly Steven grew fur, she continued happily by his side as if nothing at all had happened.

Well, not nothing at all. She was even kinder than that. She made accommodations for him. Steven hated to speak, couldn’t bear to have Connie hear the voice he valued so highly be marred into a snarl, and so Connie had made a makeshift sign language for him which she promised to expand and refine over time. She’d even bring back books from Earth libraries once her stay was over.

As it turned out, Connie was not planning just one visit. She talked about how she planned to return over and over, even if he was doomed to live in his castle forever. There were days where she rambled about warp whistles and plans as if she was going to live with him permanently.

He had his doubts about that. Steven kept waiting for one moment to be the thing to send her screaming, but she remained steadfast by his side. She even seemed to warm to his hulking form, finding things he could do better as a beast than as a man.

One time, Connie muttered a word she shouldn’t have while she dug some food from the ice chest and handed him a soda with the tab broken off. “Stupid thing busted. Would you mind?”

He stared at it for a moment, then smiled as it clicked. He effortlessly pushed a razor-sharp claw through the top, punctured down cleanly into the can before handing it back. No fear of his monster paws, it seemed - just calm practicality matched with a refreshing sip of cold sugar.

She proved it further by wrestling with him, no matter what his shape. More than once she had leapt on him from behind, narrating her own nature documentary. “And the fearless tigress goes for the kill, severing the neck vertebrae of her prey with her perfectly evolved teeth!”

And he was careful, very, very careful, when the smallness of her body was against his own, but he played back. Somehow , he played back, and he barely ever hurt her. When he did, the smallest of nicks, Connie would suck the blood off her finger with a little shrug and say, “I’ve gotten worse from playing with kittens, Steven. Don’t worry about me.”

One day, barely able to cling to his human shape but still managing to keep hands and feet instead of paws, he asked, “Why are you willing to go through all of this? What if we never break the curse? You’d have to spend your whole life dealing with me.”

It had been a dangerous thing to say. What if she just hadn’t thought about it? What if he said it aloud and it all fell into place and her eyes would go round and wide as it sunk in that she had better options.

In reality, Connie just rolled her eyes with a snort. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad for me. I mean, the shock took a lot out of me, but now you’re just a big kitty.” She shrugged, propping her chin up on her fist as she leaned towards him on the couch. “Steven, if I was in a car accident and lost my arms, would you take care of me?”

“Always,” he promised. “Anything you need.”

“That’s your answer,” she said simply. She ruffled his hair.  “I’m giving you what you would give me. You care about my problems, I care about yours. That’s how any decent relationship works.”

In moments like that, he wanted to tell her everything. Steven wanted to tell her that he was sure he was in love with her, and he was sure that if she loved him back the curse would be broken, and none of it would matter at all. If she could see past the claws and tusks, that was love, wasn’t it? That must count.

But he knew from the way his tail sprung out every time he thought of it that it was a selfish thing. Connie’s love could not be coerced or requested, certainly not in the name of breaking a curse. He had read the stories so he knew all too well that wasn’t the way of things. Love had to be given unprompted or it wasn’t real. Wasn’t strong. Wasn’t magic.

Like any other fool in love, all he could do was adore her, dream of her, long for her to feel the same. Such was the burden of a romantic soul.

Thankfully, while romantic souls were in great supply, Connie had never received one. She was as practical as ever. Dreamy eyes may have been all well and good but one couldn’t lay around fluttering lashes and hoping when there was work to be done. You had to go out and do things, like face your fears.

She tackled her biggest one in the ornate palace and stood before a purple typewriter, bracing for the worst. Her face screwed up as she stared down at it and wished that her heart wouldn’t knock around her chest from an outdated machine.

“Listen,” she said to it, because she was now fully accustomed to talking to things that never talked back. “I’m done dancing around, okay? I’m sick of you always looking at me with your little typewriter eyes. I can’t see them, but I can feel your stupid eyes!”

The typewriter remained silent, as typewriters are wont to do.

Connie yanked out the chair and sat in front of it. Her hands hovered above the keys for a moment, then dropped. Surely there was a better way to deal with all this? Perhaps she could find a book on genetics, and gene splicing, and she could simply change every single cell in Steven’s body so-

Well. Alright. Perhaps that was a bit more ambitious than just typing on a typewriter.

“Okay,” she said firmly. “I’m going to type on you. I came here to break curses, so if you curse me, I’ll be very mad at you. Steven will be angry too. A very selfish angry, if you catch my drift.”

Well, that was the best scolding she could manage. There was even a threat in there. Her hands reached out and she cursed them for trembling as they fell on the keys. The board did not snap shut around her and take her hands. She was not compelled to type infinitely. She was not overcome with bloodlust or fur.

“So far so good,” she muttered.

She timidly pressed a key - a g. Connie didn’t have any g’s in her name. She felt no bond to the letter. One couldn’t go wrong with a nice, solid homerow key. If there was any letter sure to avoid mischief, it would be a g.

The machine clacked before her and she peered at the page.

H

Connie had definitely not typed H. She would never have - her last name had an h, and she would never give magic an easy in. What’s more, the H was a capita l H, and she wouldn’t have gone for two keys on her first try - she may have had her moments but she wasn’t that much of a daredevil. She typed another g and was very sure of her button press.

He

Not even the same error. Connie raised an eyebrow, leaning close and began to rapidly mash the key, because in for a penny in for a pound, at this point. To her delight, the pedals inside matched her flurry, and typed away words she didn’t plan.

Hey, dude! I’m Amethyst. You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to talk to you. Okay. You can stop poking me now and answer. ggggggggg

She yanked her hand back with a sheepish laugh. “Right. Sorry. Got excited to have a conversation partner. I’m guessing you’re cursed?” She was about to smash the g again, then paused to add, “Just type stop when you want me to quit.” before hammering away.

No. I just love being a fancy pen and stuff.

Connie paused to mutter, “You don’t have to be rude about it” before mashing again.

Yeah, I’m cursed. Magic is, like, all wibbly wobbly. I don’t really get it. But whatever. When someone sees me I turn into something that makes sense in the room. And I can’t do ANYTHING unless someone’s using me. Sucks. Stop.

“Ugh. That’s a terrible curse.” Connie winced, imagining her body being forced into a small ball every time someone glanced her way. She tried to think of a bright side, and could only manage, “At least you’re a pretty purple.”

Dude I was purple before. Stop.

Connie rubbed her temples. Okay, maybe trying to charm her way through a conversation with someone cursed to be an object under anyone’s gaze wasn’t the best path. To business, then. “Let’s talk. Steven’s curse is him turning into a monster and he won’t talk to me about why. Can you help with that?”

First thing, Steven’s got more than one curse. He turns into a lion dude when he’s selfish or something? He’s got some weird empathy thing going on. And he’s, like, compelled to help people. He’s always trying to help Pearl talk to me and Garnet, and figure out what Garnet wants to tell us all to do, and pay lots of attention to me. Little dude probably needs a break. Stop.

Well, here were all the answers and she could hardly even take the time to enjoy it, she was all caught up in the confusion of it. Three curses. No wonder it had been so awful. She couldn’t imagine how Steven had wound up with three, and said so out loud.

One from Blue, Yellow, and White. They were all on Rose back when she was alive. Steven just got them from being born. Stop.

Connie crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair as she considered that for a bit, heart sinking from the misery of it all. Not only could curses go around, but they could be passed down? Slapped onto the head of some unsuspecting infant who hadn’t played any part in anything? The universe was an awful place.

She couldn’t dwell on it now, and pressed the trapped gem. “Do you know how to break the curses?”

Well, like, there’s actually this book in the library called, like, Thesis on Magic Application. It’s really boring, but, like, you were all about a typewriter so maybe nerd stuff is your thing? But cu

Connie paused to glare at the typewriter, barely holding back her desire to say some very unproductive things, but she couldn’t set Amethyst pouting and into silence now. She balled up her rage and went back to button mashing.

But curses really can get fixed by makeouts, man. Steven made it happen for loads of people. So I don’t know why you’re not trying to kiss him better. Stop.

Connie rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Even if love is the way to break Steven’s curse, it has to be mutual . It doesn’t matter if I go kiss him if he doesn’t want to kiss me back. That’s just assault, not romance.”

Dude. Seriously? The romantic dinner wasn’t good enough? Stop.

A louder scoff. “He does that for everyone! I know he’s been trying to find someone to marry - I figured to break the curse. But he’s a romantic!” She threw her arms out to the side. “If he loved me, he would have told me already.”

She stared at the typewriter, awaiting a response. Right. She had to do the work. Connie groaned miserably as her hand once again returned to mash the keys to get it.

You haven’t told him.

She jumped to her feet, furious as heat rose to her face. “First of all, how dare you assume when I haven’t said anything. Not every girl who waltzes up to Steven’s sky palace wants to break out the wedding planner, you know.”

Connie paced, her gaze cutting again and again to the speechless typewriter as she went on her tirade with not a soul to stop her.

“And I didn’t tell him because I’m a boring human and he’s a magic prince! Do you have any idea how stupid I’d look if I said I was in love and he didn’t feel the same?” She spun to face it dead on, throwing her hands in the air. “I’d look like I was doing it for all his cool stuff! I’d look like the most selfish person in the-”

She froze, mouth hanging open as everything fell into place.

“I’m an idiot,” Connie whispered. “Of course he’s in love with me. I’m so stupid.”

Off she fled from the library without another word on the machine. That was rude, terribly rude, but she didn’t have time for that now. Her feet flew around the halls - his bedroom, hers, the ballroom, the kitchen, until she found him in the music room. Of course he was there. She was an idiot twice.

Connie raced into the room where Steven sat, having a perfectly nice afternoon. He was human, with his guitar tucked in his lap, thinking about nothing but music as his fingers strummed at the strings. 

She skidded in front of his comfortable armless chair, sitting on her heels and practically shouted at him, “We have to talk about all your curses!”

He was so startled he was miffed with her, and hearing about curses dragged his thoughts to himself. The guitar fell to the ground with a very musical complaint from the strings, and a lion-faced Steven made a grumpy, grumbling noise as he shrunk in his chair.

“I’m so sorry!” she yelped. Her hands came up to cradle his cheeks, and there was an open desperation in her face that worried him. “I’m stupid, really stupid. I’m so stupid I don’t know how I’m alive.”

He gave her a warm, forgiving little chuff, the nicest sounding thing he could make in this shape. Connie laughed as she brought their heads together, and he savored the touch of her skin against his fur as she whispered, “I came here to break the curse and I thought… I thought that with all your fairytales you wanted to marry some kind of important person. Modern nobility.”

His face scrunched up as he tried to puzzle that out. Steven supposed he hadn’t really described much of the background of the people he’d courted. Garnet and Pearl would go out scouting, someone would be interested, and that someone usually happened to have political ties or quite a lot of money simply due to the nature of the scouting, but that had never been a requirement .

She laughed, and he smiled at the sound. She couldn't be having too hard a time with a sweet laugh like that, though it was so strange her eyes were shining with tears. One of his curses pushed at him, bringing her emotions into his heart, but there were too many, and it was such a swirling mess, that he couldn’t figure it out.

Though, that wasn’t new. Connie’s heart was always drumming too fast for him to get a decent read.

“I thought that even if you didn’t, you’d have to marry someone pretty,” she said. “The prettiest girl you could find. I didn’t get popular by being hot. I’m not that hot. I know what Kevin said but...I wasn’t, really. I’m just Connie. I didn’t think you could love someone like me.”

She shook her head, closing her eyes against the tears that were filling them up. “And you were thinking the same, weren’t you? Because… because I’m sure so many people told you no, and ran away. But I didn’t think of that, and I didn’t say it.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“I thought it was hopeless, but I love you Steven. I really do.”

His eyes went wide, but they were still black, still trapped in a lion face. He wasn’t sure how to breathe. She loved him. She loved him. The curse hadn’t vanished, but maybe it needed an action. Some kind of confirmation. True love’s kiss was common in fairy tales.

Steven couldn’t expect her to kiss him like this - not anything more than a peck on the cheek.

It wasn’t easy with tusks, but she risked the pinch anyway. She tilted her head, and her lips brushed against his. He knew his lips were thin, almost nonexistent. He’d touched them with his own hands and knew it felt like a cat’s muzzle rather than a human thing.

He was sure her cheeks were jabbed with the points of his little fangs, caged in by his tusks. Still, she kissed him. It was tender, chaste - a delicate peck against his non-existent lips with her full ones.

But when she pulled away, he remained a beast. He stared at her with love and awe, human beneath as always, but his monstrous form remained. Somehow, that was alright with him. It was disappointing, but that was irrelevant, not when someone had finally, truly loved him.

That was all he had really wanted.

Connie’s face crumpled though, pain and guilt crashing into him from her. Steven felt her heart rip into pieces, heard a sob catch in her throat as she hung her head. “I love you wrong.”

He whimpered, and wished his voice was not so unbearably horrid that he could tell her it wasn’t true.

The cry burst forth, tears coming down her face, hands covering her leaking eyes as she wept on the cold, hard floor before him. “I don’t understand it! I love you from our letters! I love how you talk and how you sing. I love that you’re kind and generous and we laugh at all the same jokes. I love reading with you, and playing music with you, but, maybe…”

Steven crooned, trying to hold her carefully with his claws, trying to move her hands away without cutting them. Her chin was in his hand and her face contorted. Waves of her anguish and hatred turned inward filled him up, sudden and painful.

“But I was wrong.” Her voice came out pained and raw. “It didn’t work, so I love you wrong. I’m just like him, I guess. I love you because of the money or something. The power! Oh, Steven, I was gonna be a politician. How could I be so stupid !”

She sobbed again, and though he feared his strength, though he hated his form, he tugged her close to it, up into his lap like she weighed nothing at all. She let her head rest against his chest, let her vanish into him as he stroked her back, and not a single part of her was afraid of him. Not a single bit of her thought he was too ugly to stand, too helpless to help, too pathetic to take.

He hated his voice, but he spoke anyway: “You love me the right way.”

Angel that she was, he felt her shock from the sound but she didn’t say a word about it, only began, “If I loved you, you wouldn’t be-”

“This isn’t how the curse gets broken.” He didn’t want to hear any of that, not when he could feel her there for him. “You were right. It's not romance that fixes any of this stupid stuff. You would have fixed it.” 

And, as he spoke, as he focused on her again, he receded. Small and human and squeezing her tight, but the curses worked away under his skin nevertheless. He wanted to help, but so did his magic. Her feelings pulsed alongside his, no matter how he wished he could be closed off to them.

He kissed her forehead and confessed as a man, as he had always hoped to: “I love you, Connie.”

“I love you, Steven.” She sobbed, messy and miserably. “I swear. I swear I do.”

And he felt it, he knew it, but he knew the kind of burden it meant she would take on. If it wasn’t as simple as a declaration and a kiss, he might have been doomed. He might have his whole life with claws, too vulnerable to enter the world, always rushing around to help anyone at his castle.

He said, “If you want to leave-”

“No!” Her voice was an even fiercer growl than his at his worst, and her nails dug into his shirt, pinched at his back as she clung to him with everything she had. “Never. Never, never, never , Steven.”

Some small part of him hoped that would be the trick, the final piece to the puzzle that would finally break the curse. He hoped he would never become a lion again, and so their happily ever after would be ushered in. He hoped that her agreeing to stay was enough.

It was not.

Chapter Text

Dear Connie,

I think it’s really sweet that you want to rescue me, but I’m okay! The castle is actually really nice. It’s pretty and really big and people come visit all the time to keep me company.

I don’t really want to talk about magic and curses though. It doesn’t make me sad, I’m just not really interested in it. Maybe because I grew up with magic, but it’s just boring, like science. Ever since all those curses happened, gems aren’t really that magical anymore, so it’s really not that cool. Don’t worry about it.

I would love it if you came to visit someday! I know we only just started talking, but I think we’re going to be really great friends! I bet you’d love my library since you love books so much.

Since we shouldn’t really talk about that other stuff, what about a book club? Dad can buy me books and drop them off, so we can talk about anything you like!

I really like books and I really like you, so I bet I’d really like talking about books with you! Haha!

Anyway, Garnet and Pearl will come down every Wednesday to get your letter and give you mine. If you have one. No pressure.

Sincerely,

Steven Universe
PS I don’t really think science is that boring! I hope it didn’t hurt your feelings!

Dear Connie,

Oh, gees. You asked a lot of hard questions. I don’t really have people to answer them for me, but I did my best to figure it out for you! I hope this helps.

My mom was cursed like all the other gems I help, but before that, when there was lots of magic, she and her friends built this cool training space up in the sky. They practiced fighting and magic so they could protect the planet.

After everyone got cursed, though, Mom didn’t want to live on Earth. All her friends helped built the castle as fast as they could, and they lived with her while they tried to break all the curses, but they couldn’t do it.

When Mom got cursed, she was already in love with Dad. I think that’s why it didn’t work. He already loved her and she already loved him so they couldn’t fall in love even thought she was cursed. I think that’s why.

But true love is really magic, Connie! It’s the strongest magic there is. It says so in all the stories. If you fall in love with someone and they fall in love with you it can break any curse in the universe.

That’s why, when I’m old enough, Garnet and Pearl are gonna search all over the world for me to find someone to marry, and then the curses on the whole castle will be broken. I’m sure of it.

The people who cursed us didn’t understand love. The Diamonds didn’t understand that humans can love people no matter what their curse is!

One day, I’ll get married and I’ll leave the castle. I’ll give it to you if you want it! You can live here and use a warp whistle to go all over Earth or having exciting space adventures! You’d love it so much, Connie.

Anyway, I hope that made sense!

From,
Steven

Dear Steven,

I always knew you would, but it's so strange to hear that you're dating now - and dating to marry someone! When it comes to that stuff, I still feel like a little kid. I'm not ready to get married at all.

But I'm not you. You're a romantic, through and through. All your plans sound really wonderful. I'm sure you'll find a partner who will fall for all that stuff in no time! I only know you through our letters, but I can't think of a sweeter, kinder, more generous person in the entire world. No one deserves love more than you, Steven.

I really, really hope it breaks the curse, too! I know when I was small I was always talking about rescuing you, but maybe that was selfish. I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter now, because all I really care about it you being happy. I know it's only letters, but I think of you as my best friend.

You're going to find someone really amazing. Someone who knows how to dress like royalty and knows what fork to use at the dinner table and has so much money they don't even know what a candy bar costs. It'll be just like the stories.

And maybe I'll find someone too! They'll be really into books and science and have big career plans like me. I'm gonna find someone, so don't worry about me. I know you're a worrier, but don't worry about me.

Sorry for going off-topic. I should probably throw this away and start over. I don't think that one will come out any better, though. I'm terrible with this stuff.

Good luck on your date.

From,
Connie

Dear Steven,

The older I get, the more I struggle with what love is even supposed to mean. How do you know what counts as love? Is it just a feeling? Is it an action?

When I was younger, my mom really wanted me to be a doctor. She pushed for me to do well in school and I went to all these doctor-in-training seminars. I really hated them, but Mom said they were good for me and I’d be grateful some day.

That was selfish of her. It was mean to my feelings even if all her pushing had some good sides. But she loved me. I know she loved me. My mom cares about me a lot, even if she messes up and does it wrong sometimes. Right? That’s still love, isn’t it? Even if someone isn’t perfect?

I don’t know what’s worse, the idea that love can be wrong and bad or the idea that it’s only love it you do it right. Both seem so terrible.

If your love is only love when you’re selfless and kind and patient and all those other things, then love must be one of the rarest things in the world. I don’t want to believe that we live in a universe where love is that rare.

But if you can love someone wrong, what does that mean? Is there anything good at all that can’t be turned into something awful? Why can caring about someone come from being selfish and mean and greedy and controlling.

I know you believe in love more than anyone, so maybe that’s why I’m asking you. Maybe you have good ideas about how to love someone. If it’s not too weird, maybe you could tell me what a date with you would be like, if you loved someone for who they were and not for what they could give you. Maybe that’s not even possible.

Sorry for being a downer this time. I just can’t think of a better person to talk to about this stuff. But if it’s too upsetting, we could just go back to the book club instead.

Love (if that means anything),
Connie

Chapter Text

As it always did - the world turned, time passed, and seasons changed. Fall froze into winter and Connie remained steadfastly by his side throughout it all. Steven wondered if he’d ever get used to having her around, with every glance full of love and delight, like he was someone worth hanging out with.

Some things he was sure he’d never get used to, like how little she feared his beastly form. Although making out was off the table (for many reasons from them both), there was no shyness for touch. In fact, touch came more often now.

Once, she snuggled close to him on the library couch, her face against his fuzzy chest while she hummed, “Gees, you’re so warm .” Beneath his fur, he felt heat rise to his cheeks as Connie embraced him. The castle did get chilly in winter, and being a big fuzzy beast was certainly an upside there.

Another time, they hid beneath heavy blankets and, content as he was, a rumbling purr escaped him. While he hadn’t expected her to be upset by the revelation, he was quite surprised by how her palms braced against his chest, her eyebrows knitting together as she questioned, “Aren’t you a lion?”

“Partially,” he said.

“Do you roar?”

“I try not to!” He laughed. “But, yeah, I can roar.”

She appeared very skeptical. “Big cats that roar can’t purr. The most accepted theory is that the bone in their chest-”

He cupped her face in his paws. “I am a magical lion boar man.”

Connie laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck. “Right. Don’t know why I thought biology would apply.”

Of course, there was friendly embarrassment in both directions, which was something new as well. Closeness led to vulnerability, to the point that he took his drawings from their hiding place and showed her his pictures.

“I like drawing, and I had this idea,” he said. “I was thinking of the warp stream, and how scary it is, so this girl warps into the woods but a bunch of blue light wolves come after her because they live in the warp and they want to eat people.”

Her eyes widened. “There’s wolves in the warps?!”

“No!” he squeaked. “It’s just pretend! Here, it’s a drawing. See? All made up.”

Connie leaned over his picture, a very detailed drawing of a hulking beast standing over a woman who had fallen in the snow. The monster snarled, fangs bared in feral protection as his body hovered over hers. He was ready to attack the circle of crystal wolves who dared come closer. She pointed to the two figures at the center.

“Is that us?” she asked eagerly.

“No!” he said, his voice still squeaking. “It’s pretend!”

“You could most definitely protect me from dangerous warp wolves,” she agreed merrily. “I bet you could take down a herd of warp giraffes and feed us all winter. You seem very strong to me.”

That made him happy. Everything about her made him happy. As winter deepened, they curled up with cups of hot cocoa from Pearl, piled high with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. There were snickerdoodles Garnet had made as they cuddled under a blanket together, both human, watching as the snowfall slowly obscured the mountains and the sunset.

Then she spoke, her voice a little stilted with a prepared speech. “You know, most of what pop culture says about animals just isn’t true.” She fidgeted under the blanket. “Take lions, for example. Obviously, you shouldn’t mess with them, but they’re not just monsters. Humans are food for them, like antelope, but they can actually be sweet and playful.”

Steven grinned. “I wouldn’t want to play with a lion in my human shape.”

She snorted and went to bump him, then remembered the drinks in their hands and thought better of it. She continued, “Of course you wouldn’t, just like rabbits shouldn’t play with wolves. But even big, scary lions play with their cubs - tiny little kittens. They’re gentle, and they pretend to be scared or hurt so their babies feel strong and keep trying.”

Steven laughed. “So are lions just big housecats?”

Connie raised her eyebrows as she took a long sip. “In the sense that if they were big enough, a housecat would absolutely try to eat you, yes.”

“I’m confused,” he confessed with a shake of his curls.

“What I’m trying to say is just…” She took a deep, frustrated, breath. “Beastly. Animalistic. They’re words that insinuate evil and malice and stupidity. But that’s because people can be very self-centered, and don’t look at things from different points of view, but humans have gotten so much better. You know, people love lions now.”

His mug clinked quietly against the tile as he set it down, holding her close. Partially for her comfort, partially for his. Steven’s temple came to rest against hers. “I can’t go to Earth because of the empathy, how I need to help people. Even if people were nice about the claws, and I bet a lot of people would be, it’s the emotional stuff. I won't be able to take it down there.”

Her fingers tightened around her own drink, hands trembling as she whispered, “It isn’t fair, Steven. You didn’t even do anything wrong! It wouldn’t be fair if you did, but why do we live in a world where curses can be passed down?”

Steven put his hand over hers, but before he could speak she blurted, voice tight as if she was going to cry again, “I’m sorry! I won’t stop fighting for you, Steven, not ever. I’ll break the curse if it takes our whole lives.”

A joke slipped out - a weak attempt to lighten the mood. “Aw, but won't you miss your fuzzy space heater?”

“I will,” she said, shocking his eyes wide. When her gaze fell to him, there wasn’t a joke in it, just care. “I love you as you are. But it’s your body, and you deserve it to be exactly the way you want it. So I’ll work hard to break it, and love all of you in the meantime.”

He cried that night, even though he was no longer feeling her misery and only feeling determination and love.

Still, he’d cried a lot.

But, mostly, he did not cry because Amethyst was often around. Now that her secret was out of the bag, he could go back to the usual state of things - which was carrying her around and talking to her and spending quite a lot of time making sure she always felt seen and paid attention to.

Garnet was often around, because she still needed his help with things, still needed answers to be spoken that she couldn’t give, and he constantly spoke for her. There was Pearl still, and at least now he had Connie to assist as all three of them stumbled through a conversation.

Thankfully, their romance wasn’t driven by a need to always be alone together, so a purple mug resting nearby rarely ruined their fun. Besides, Connie was capable of sucking all the fun out of the room all on her own, and replacing it with academia.

“I don’t know how you keep reading that book.” Steven laughed, drumming human fingers on the spine of it.

He’d found a nice study with a big, broad table they could both sit at. They drowned in giant green chairs with gold trim to pass the mornings and evenings. Connie liked to read, and needed to study, and delighted in combining the two with his mom’s old book - Theoretical Magic and the Applications of Curses and Blessings to Sapient Beings.

“It’s more interesting than you think,” she said. All it took to make her reconsider was an arched eyebrow. “Okay, it’s a little dry.”

He leaned over to take the book from her hands, cleared his throat, and read aloud: Although magic has its simplest roots in construction, one could argue that it came to its most utilitarian purpose in housework. The earliest magic users, as recounted previously, enchanted trees for lumber, but such spells were the most simple magics which functioned via the magic inherent to the intended target. Magic only began to flourish during beer production, in which homemakers used spells during their microbrewing which-

Connie snatched it back, and he laughed despite feeling the ghost of her embarrassment as her face wrinkled up. “I know it’s dry, but it’s science! The science of magic, and the history of magic. Gems haven’t told us all this stuff. I mean, we don’t even know how gems reproduce.” 

The girl paused, then gestured to him awkwardly. “Although, you exist, so I suppose, in terms of biology…”

She cleared her throat as his own embarrassment matched as he burst into giggles. Connie went on, trying her best to maintain composure, “Well, anyway, I want to help break curses, and magic textbooks about curses have to be the best way to do that. I refuse to believe studying could fail me.”

He thought about that. He hadn’t really thought about studying magic or history - he thought he had learned enough growing up, to be honest, and wasn’t interested in much more. But it made sense that understanding a thing to be key to unmaking it, he pushed to his feet and said, “Connie, I’ve got a new place to show you.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes before looking up at him. “Steven, come on. I know you get nervous when we start talking about magic, but you can’t throw me off that easy.”

“No, silly. It’s about magic and history and… my family.” He laughed, ruffling her hair before snagging the purple mug from the table. That had gotten her attention. “Come on, guys. Let’s go visit the moon.”

It was a quick hop on the warp pads up to the long-abandoned base. Little remained of the place, other than the life support, but Connie’s unrestrained joy was contagious (for more than one reason), and he savored it as she rushed about with curious glee, checking things in the room against her dry book.

Tapestries hung on the wall like murals, huge and gorgeous. A grand staircase wound up to a room that had once been his mother’s (no need to go up there). And then, there was a red carpet across a sleek, blue crystal. Everything tarnished. Everything dim in the flickering track lights overhead.

“The moon,” she whispered with awe, spinning in the center of the room. “Humans have only been here once, you know, and we weren’t even good at it. The stuff gems did is so amazing.”

It was, Steven knew that, but how they had done it was terrible. They’d taken and tricked and stole and maybe they shouldn’t have existed at all. But that would mean he wouldn’t exist, and by the stars, he did want to exist nowadays.

He huffed, falling onto all fours as his claws came out. Amethyst dangled from his teeth, still a mug and he deposited her into Connie’s hands as he walked to the nearest mural. White’s mural.

In it, Steven’s grandmother cradled planets in her terrible grasp. The mural somehow managed to make it look normal, the ancient gem serenely smiling, as if there was nothing wrong with taking every place you found and claiming for your own. As if you could be as selfish as you wanted with no consequences.

Connie came to stand beside him, her voice soft. “Was this what you wanted to show me? Queen White Diamond?”

“Do you know the story?” he asked with a throat full of gravel. How he loathed his beastly voice on the best of days, but now it was tied up with an awful hate, an anger, at people he had never met who had bound him in his terrible body.

"I know the story they told the world." Connie said, her fingers tracing above the fabric. She didn't touch, too educated to let the oils on her hands touch relics, but her fingers swept across the air over his grandmother’s form.

She used her storyteller voice, dreamy and gentle despite the awful topic. "Once upon a time, there were four wicked queens who did terrible magic, and they called themselves the Diamond Authority, the leaders of the Gempire. They were older than any memory, and colder than the space between stars.

“But the youngest learned better. When the gems found Earth, they found humans. With it, Rose Quartz found love, and fled across the stars. She used magic to erase her name, to change her body, all to be with a human man."

He nodded his great head. "That's the story I know so far."

"She and her companions used their magic to protect Earth, a place unprepared for such a war,” Connie continued, and her hand fell as she took a step back. “And lo, so wicked and enraged were the queens by her selfless love that they cursed all of the littlest queen's companions. So bitter and cruel were their hearts that they cursed even their sister, their daughter. Many curses, piled high, but one so terrible it ruined them all.”

She turned to him, her voice faltering. “If she wanted a half-breed son, it would be her life for his. If she bore him, she would come undone, and there was no way to break such awful magic."

He sighed, closing his eyes. “I… never learned a lot about spells. You can guess why. One thing I know is that cursing your own blood is cursing yourself. By the time they finished with Mom and me, there was nothing to protect them, so the magic came back.”

She looked back to the tapestry, "The story said they knew they’d die, and they did it just because they were awful. The cursed gems still roam the world, but they are free of tyranny. A prince rules in the sky, but his kingdom is as empty as air. And so the Gempire is no more."

"Debatable," he muttered with a very rude, boarish grunt. "Maybe Grandma's not around but her queendom is."

"You'd really call it a queendom?" Connie asked with a snort.

He snorted himself as he looked up at her. "I can't have another argument like the castle/palace one. You win. There's no queendom. It's over."

"And yet..." she said, and her eyes fell solemnly to the mug in her hands, snug up against the book. 

Steven heaved another sigh, closing his eyes. "And yet."

“Is that all true?” she asked.

Steven rumbled as he thought about that, checking it against the story he’d pieced together from his companions and different gems across the years, as well as stories from his father.

“It was more complicated than that,” he said finally. “They didn’t think they’d lose all their magic, not forever, and they really didn’t think they’d die. I think they thought they were too strong for that kind of stuff to hurt them. I don’t think anyone thought I’d inherit Mom’s curses.”

“But they really did all those curses?” Connie insisted. “All the hundreds of gems who rebelled against them, at least hundreds, if not more, and cursing their own family in one go?”

“I mean, I think it took a couple days, but they were strong.” Steven shrugged. “And horrible.”

“Horrible, sure, but nobody’s that strong. Not even evil queens.” Connie sat beside him, setting the mug carefully to the floor and flipping out the book instead. “See, this is why we study. Blah blah blah. Efficiency. Numbers. Math. You don’t care about math. Oh! Here.”

But when engaging in the magic of blessings or, dreadfully, curses, the most fundamental part of my theory is to allow yourself to be a catalyst, and the intended target to be the energy source. Magic users hate to be out of control, but the results are marvelous. Just as early magic users took advantage of a tree’s inherent nature to grow, so you can sustain a blessing much stronger by using the core components of your intended target.

She waved her hand. “Okay, and then they rambled some more. Oh, gees. More math.” Her face started to fall, dread filling her as she realized just how painfully dull she was. “I mean, there’s a bit of an ethics lesson here, but if you’re writing a book with curses in it you should probably have that. It’s not as boring as-”

“Connie,” Steven said patiently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It makes sense! I swear! I just…” She flipped madly through the pages, a nervous giggle slipping out. There was excitement in her now, a slight tremble to her hands. “Yes! This.”

A blessing of wealth, for example, is an exhausting spell for even the more powerful of magic users. The spell must use processing power to determine the best outcomes to take, requiring precognitive components as well as-

Connie closed the book and took a deep breath. “I should paraphrase.”

“You should paraphrase,” he agreed.

She laughed, though there was quite the groan mixed in, and she tried to explain on her own. “Okay, so the basic idea is that you can bless or curse a lot more people if you turn their own magic against them, and the way that you do that is by doing something that goes after who they are.”

Connie searched his face, clearly hoping for some sign of understanding. None came, and she whined as she was once again forced to explain without pulling quotes from the dense, dry text.

“Okay! Examples,” she cried. “Garnet’s confidence, her desire to always be the answer, means that her magic knows the right things to say. Her magic determines what’s right, so you only need a teeny, tiny curse to shut her up if you turn that magic on itself. All she can say is questions. Do you get it?”

Steven was never one to crush hope, but he also couldn’t lie. He cocked his head with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“Okay, all those gems you helped over the years playing therapist,” Connie huffed. “Did you break their curses with true love or by solving their deeper problems?”

“Both.”

Her hands gripped fistfuls of her hair, shrieking as frustration reached a peak. “Augh! I understand what I mean but I just… Okay.” She took a deep breath, dropping her hands peacefully to her lap. 

Then, she set her hands on his shoulders, eyes intense and fierce. “Steven, is it wrong for me to want things just for myself? Is it wrong for me to want other people to love me just for me and not for what I do for them.”

“No!” He nuzzled her with his soft nose. “Of course not.”

She caught his face, forcing their eyes to meet and stilling his head. “Great! Is it wrong for you to want those same things?”

Steven cast his eyes down, feelings rising in him like a storm. It made sense for him to want those things, to ask for those things. He’d never scold anyone else for wanting them. But he’d spent his whole life as a helper, in a way that even his mother never could, and it had scratched up his soul like his claws had hit his curtains.

He confessed, small and ashamed, “I know I should say it’s not but it feels… bad. It feels selfish. Greedy.”

“ Your magic decides what activates the curse,” she whispered. “You’re doing it to yourself, Steven, so I can’t love you better. No one can. You have to love yourself.”

“How?” he said, and looked down at his paws. “How am I supposed to love this ?”

“I don’t know.” She laughed, a little pained. “I forget how to do it to myself all the time. I think everyone does. But maybe it doesn’t have to be forever. Divorces don’t redo curses, do they? Please tell me they don’t.”

Steven laughed weakly. “Only if you have a really good lawyer.”

She laughed back, always willing to giggle at his terrible jokes, and kissed his forehead. “Maybe you just need one moment , then. Love yourself. Just a deep, true love for just a second, and that might end it. You can go back to hating yourself like the rest of us do after that.”

Air wooshed from his nose in an almost-chuckle. “Wouldn’t that mean I’ve never loved myself before?”

She hesitated, a painful tension in the air, then asked, “Have you ever had the chance to pick yourself over everyone else and taken it? Just once?”

He looked away and Connie murmured. “Love’s powerful, Steven. You’ve always known that. Just… Give yourself the love you give other people. Just once.”

He closed his eyes and took her hand. “I’ll try.”

Time passed. Like always.

How was he supposed to love himself? How was he supposed to prove it? He took the last slice of delivery pizza instead of insisting Connie take it. He asked Amethyst to give him time alone with his girlfriend, but both of those just ended with paws and filled him with guilt so that he stopped bothering there.

He asked his dad to visit more but it came out as, “If you don’t mind, when you’re free, I’d love to see you more often.” He tried to shut down his gem clinic but could only send out the message, “Could you send a letter before you come so I could prepare? But I understand if it’s an emergency.”

The more he tried, the more he felt the problem settle in around him. Other people deserved happiness. Deserved love. Deserved kindness. He was not overcome with jealousy, though there was still the smallest touch of envy laying inside him. The simple fact was that he did not deserve those things. He was the exception to everyone deserving love and though he argued with himself, it came back to the same conclusion.

Other people mattered more than him.

Connie’s independent study came to a close. As the week wound down, she kissed his fuzzy cheek with a sad smile, his human cheek with longing, and murmured, “I’ll be back. I’ll be back all the time. I know it’s not the same, but I’ll be back.”

He laughed, but the sound was tight. “Dad will come around more so I’ll have both of you visiting. Don’t worry about me.”

“I love you, silly,” she murmured. “I’m always gonna worry about you.”

And he worried about everyone else.

With the secrets behind breaking curses out in the open, real progress could be made. He started with Garnet, with everything he knew about his guardian - the questioning gem who had somehow portrayed confidence and knowledge even as her curse tried to strip it away.

“I know that you’ve always cared a lot about knowing the answers,” Steven said softly. “You were Mom’s second in command. When everything fell apart, I know it was really hard for you to get back on your feet, to have confidence in yourself.”

Garnet frowned, shaking her head as she looked out the window. “Was it hard for everyone to lose a leader who didn’t even know how to break curses?”

Steven took her hand in his. “Yeah. It was. You kept everyone together even as Mom was falling apart, when she was dying. Even leaders don’t have all the answers sometimes, Garnet. Being wrong about one thing, even something big, doesn’t mean you have to doubt yourself forever.”

There was no light show, no sparks, no anything, just tears in her eyes as she whispered, “Thank you, Steven.”

It took a moment for it to sink in that there was no question in her words, and the two of them shrieked and laughed and clung to each other. There was only the smallest moment of sadness - her magic was not returned, diminished by years of maintaining the curse on herself, and it would be years before it healed.

But she would heal, and that was what mattered in the end. She proved it with a small magic, changing her outfit to mark the occasion. They celebrated with the group that the curse was lifted, and for the first time Steven felt pangs of jealousy as he watched someone shake the shackles of their curse off while he was still confined by his.

He started on Amethyst next, but before he made any progress there, he found Connie and Pearl in the armory. Both of them were laughing and crying, and Connie said, “It really is hard to feel like you matter when you’re around really important people.”

Pearl choked on more tears, but her mouth moved and words tumbled forward. “But you’re right! That doesn’t mean I should spend my life silencing myself. I matter too. Stars, I can’t believe I never thought that way before.”

Good for her. Good for them. He loved Pearl and he was happy for her and he curled up on his bed in his beastly shape as misery sunk in. He was a selfish, jealous mess. Good for them. Good for everyone but Steven.

Steven found himself transforming in front of Amethyst, his voice a furious, gravelly snarl as the record player droned on in Amethyst’s casual tones.

His claws scraped against the table she rested on as he leaned over her. “No one else can help you, Amethyst! You can’t spend your whole life defining yourself through other people!”

“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m-”

“ You’re the one decided what fits in each room!” he roared. “ You’re the one saying that you’re more useful as a mug than a person! Don’t you think all of us would love you the way you are?”

Static played for a moment, and her voice was so soft he almost couldn’t hear it at all, almost thought he imagined it. “I was born wrong.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “You deserve to be yourself anyway. You don’t have to be useful to exist. We’ll love you anyway.”

And the music player was gone. There was Amethyst - very short and very fat and tears filling up her eyes. “I-I know I’m not the most normal loo-”

But Steven didn’t let her finish. He was human-shaped again, so overwhelmed with love for her that he clung to her tight and wept against her shoulder. She held him back and whispered, “Thank you, dude. It’s gonna happen for you too.”

Easy for her to say, when she got to celebrate with Pearl and Garnet - all of them in new, pretty outfits. All of them moving on from the curses of their past. He tried to be happy for them, and he was, and was more miserable to himself to make up for it.

But time was closing in. Every day that passed was a day that brought Connie closer to leaving and shrunk his support net one person smaller and shrunk his chances of breaking the curse just a little bit more.

They tried to enjoy it as much as they could. They spent their evenings together as romantically as possible, but as her deadlines approached her days were filled with work. The world was calling her back and he was still adrift on his island in the clouds. 

She would return to Earth, and he would not.

What’s Earth like ? He asked his dad when he was small, and his father had brought him pictures of schools and towering buildings and stadiums full of people and how he had wanted it. He had wanted every sight, every sound, if only for a little while. But he was weak. He was cursed. And so he had none of it.

He had read Connie’s letters and he had wanted that too. A family. A home he couldn’t get lost in. What a wonderful thing that seemed to be, to have something cozy and warm instead of a place that was cavernous and cold.

But people cared for him, didn’t they? No one wanted him to get hurt among all those people. No one wanted him to feel his curse so fully, so terribly, so Connie would go and he would stay and it was fine. It was the way of the world. His world was small and beautiful and…

Steven stood in his bedroom, looking at his messed up drawers and floors and drapes. Small. So stupidly small for someone who got as big as him. Why hadn’t they made changes for him? Why wasn’t this stupid place fit for a lion? His feet swelled on the floor with anger and selfishness, because no one had thought about him.

He burst through the door, and there was Garnet. Her eyes were wide with worry, her mouth starting to open with yet another question, and he snarled at her. “I can’t answer all your questions! I can’t be in charge! I don’t want to be!”

She froze, eyes wide. He felt her pain and guilt bubbled up but he couldn’t, he couldn’t . Not now. He raced down the hallway, uncoordinated on two feet, but running all the same. He heard footsteps behind, the flicker of purple from the corner of his eye, and he turned to find the shorter gem looking up at him, trying for a nervous smile, her mouth starting to open.

“I can’t be around you all the time, Amethyst!” he said, and somehow his voice sounded even rougher as tears burned at his eyes. “I know you want people to pay attention to you. I know you need it, but I’m tired. I can’t give anymore.”

And she said nothing, her mouth hanging open in shock, and how dare he ask more of her when she had lost so much? But hadn’t he lost, too? Didn’t he deserve, after all these years, a single moment of saying no?

All four paws hit the floor as he barrelled down the halls, skidding and scraping and ruining some poor builder’s hard work but it was nothing, nothing . He had to be faster, because he couldn’t be alone. He couldn’t go alone.

Pearl was at the entrance to the warp, having sent Connie off because he was too cowardly to do it. He nearly ran into her, but he stopped, claws screaming against tile as he skidded in front of her, haunches on the floor, looking up at the most silenced gem of all.

“I’m not Mom,” he said weakly. “I tried but I can’t speak for you like she could. I did my best, Pearl, but I can’t anymore. I have to go. I...”

There were tears in her eyes and it hurt , by the stars it hurt, but her small fingers wrapped around his paws, and with a weak smile she held it to her chest. Her voice was soft, but familiar now. “I know, Steven. I love you.”

His throat tightened in a sob, and he got back on his feet to hug her. “I love you too.”

And then he was gone, away to the warp pad on all fours to where Connie stood. The warp whistle was raised to her lips, frozen as she saw him running like the beast he was. It didn’t matter. His voice was like a rockslide and he looked like a cat had a baby with an elephant and he didn’t care, not one bit, as he gasped for air.

“I don’t want to be alone!” he roared.

The whistle fell from her lips. “Steven?”

“I’m sick of spending my life here!” he shouted, flinging his arms out as he stormed up to the place they had met, just a step below her. “I’m sick of taking care of everyone else when the only way they knew how to take care of me was to lock me away! I’m sick of living my whole life for them!”

She stumbled forward , stepping down to him, whispering his name again.

His fists pushed against his tearful eyes as he fell to his knees. He was crying now, too hard to speak for a moment, but he caught his breath through it all and whispered, “I want to relax. I want to talk about me. I want to be selfish and do the stuff I want to do.”

Steven’s voice was a whine, small and pathetic. “I deserve it, Connie. I want a place on Earth. I don’t want to be alone again.”

She was laughing, pulling down his hands, and when he blinked his watery eyes her own teary eyes blinked back at him. Blinked back at him at his own eye level, while she held his hands caution-free.

 “Steven,” she murmured. “You’re human.”

He looked down, and where he expected paws there were hands - no haunches, no hulking muscle, no pink except for the touches beneath his skin from his heart pounding run. He gasped and looked at Connie, and while her emotion tugged at his heart he didn’t feel it as his own. 

“Quick!” he gasped. “Tell me one of your problems.”

She frowned, looking down, her face scrunched up with thought. “I guess I had a tough time with my mom about all her rules.”

He grinned. “I don’t care. Solve your own problem.”

A squeaking gasp of utter disbelief at his callousness, and he doubled over with giggles from the delighted shock on her face. “I’m sorry! I do care! Of course I care, but I don’t have to care. I can do what I want. I’ll get to your problems when they’re convenie nt !”

Wild laughter filled the air as Connie squealed out problems, and Steven denied them all. They kissed and hugged, and then there was sudden silence as they were suddenly not along, as three figures moved up beside them - Garnet, Pearl and Amethyst.

And he was finally as free as they were. They hugged and chatter passed around them as everything was bubbly delight, breathtaking hope as the remnants of the terrible past blew away in the gentle breeze.

“I do still have to go,” Connie said as the chatter died down. “I have classes tomorrow. I’ve got to get home.”

“You can show me around!” Steven said eagerly. His girlfriend’s face filled with worry, and he gave her cheek a playful pinch. “Just to visit. I know how dorms work, silly. I’ll stay with my dad. He’ll make room for sure. I….”

He turned back to the gems, and he was grateful that curses worked even in divorce, because worry and guilt came back as he looked at his dear companions - the people he fully intended to leave behind, with only visits as he dropped to the planet below.

But they were smiling, and Garnet ruffled his hair. “I think I speak for all of us when I say all we ever wanted was for you to be happy, Steven. I just wish we could have done better. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“Uh, I wanted my body back,” Amethyst said, eyeing the taller gem. She smiled at Steven, and he delighted in just how sincere it was. “And I got it. Get out of here, dude. Live your dreams. Thanks for everything.”

Pearl got to his level, kneeling as she pulled him close to her heart. “Go. Be happy. You’ve spent enough of your life fixing us up. We love you, Steven and we’re sorry we couldn’t do more.” She released him and promised, “We’re grateful for everything you’ve done, and we’ll manage without you, though we’ll miss you very much.”

Connie stood, warp whistle in one hand and the other outstretched. “Come on, Prince Universe. The world is big and beautiful down there. All it’s missing is you.”

She was smiling, but he couldn’t feel her joy. That was alright. He had plenty of his own to spare. His companions were fine. They loved him. They would miss him. They gave him a blessing and it was finally time to go.

Oh, how selfish he felt as he took her hand and left the ones he loved behind. But it was all human fingers that laced up tight, and it was two human forms that vanished into the light.

And he was sure he was going to live happily ever after.