Chapter Text
Two days outside of the Newtopian walls, Sasha stops in the forest, sighs in annoyance, and shouts, "You can come out, Grime, I know you've been following me."
Grime drops from a tree directly in front of her with a guilty look. "I wasn't following you, Lieutenant. I was tracking you. There's a difference."
"Oh?” Sasha snorts. “And what’s that?”
“The difference,” Grime says, and the guilt is replaced with reproach, “is that tracking you means I didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“I think where I was going was pretty fucking obvi, don’t you?” Sasha shoots back. “You were there . You saw her .”
“I did.” Grime says, “and I believe I counseled patience in the matter. Caution, until we could find out more.”
Which is absolutely not possible, as far as Sasha’s concerned. She’d watched the figure of Marcy, movements fluid and unnatural, wearing a helmet covered in glowing, gloating eyes, tearing through the rear-guard Sasha had assembled to cover the evacuation of a town which had fallen foul of Newtopian rule. There, Sasha had been forced to retreat -- it was more important to get as many survivors as possible out, and Sasha’s role was to escort and protect, not attack. Sasha’s trying to get better at following orders, trying to accept that occasionally the needs of the many have to outweigh her own. Trying, in short, to live up to the potential that Anne had seen, had written about in her journal that had, more than anything else, made Sasha realize who she really wanted to be. As soon as they’d gotten back to Wartwood, however, Sasha had begun making preparations to head for Newtopia.
“And I believe I told you that I wasn’t going to leave her again.” Sasha counters. “She’s being forced to slaughter innocents , Grime! I have to get to her before… before-”
“Before you lose her completely.” Grime finishes. “Alright, Lieutenant,” he says, and his demeanor shifts to all business, “what’s the plan?”
Sasha blinks, surprised that Grime isn’t trying to talk her out of it. “Wait, really?”
“Sasha, I realize I only have one good eye, but I’m not blind .” Grime says, chidingly. “You feel very strongly about your friend, do you not?”
“I love her.” Sasha says, and it catches her off guard, a little, to say it out loud, even though she’s said it before -- to Marcy, even -- but this is the first time she’s said it to someone else . She says it again, feeling the weight of truth on her tongue, the lightness and freedom that comes from saying it filling her with strength. “I love her.”
Grime beams like Sasha’s just suggested they play a game of Drawsadoodle, and hefts Barrel’s Warhammer over his shoulder. “Well then,” he says, and gives her a thumbs up, “let’s go get her, Lieutenant.”
Sasha feels an intense rush of gratitude, then, and has to wipe a few tears from her eyes. “Thanks, Grimsey.”
“Think nothing of it.” Grime says, and clasps Sasha’s bicep, giving it a squeeze. “Now. Your plan?”
Which is when Sasha admits that really, she doesn’t have one. Grime snorts, mutters something that sounds like “of course not” and begins using the handle of his warhammer to scratch a picture into the dirt.
“We can safely assume that your friend will be in the castle.” Grime says. “Our best bet is to get into the city and find more information as we go. Play it by ear. Also,” he adds, and he gestures to the pack on his back with a smile, “I brought boom shrooms.”
Which isn’t much of a plan, but it’s more than what Sasha had planned, so she nods. “Works for me, Grimesy.”
They continue making their way toward the city, make camp, and rise early the next day. The city walls appear on the horizon, and Grime seems worried Sasha is going to get reckless and run, but she’s being careful now. This is far too important to risk going in half-cocked, and Sasha knows it, and for once has the discipline to actually follow through. There is a small hut on the side of the road, and Sasha suggests the two shelter there until nightfall, when it will be easier to cross the open swamps before the city undetected.
What neither Sasha nor Grime are expecting is for the hut to be occupied. Not just occupied, but occupied by a familiar blue newt wearing, surprisingly, the same white dress Sasha had seen her in before. Her first instinct is to go for her swords, a snarl on her lips, but Grime steps in front of her and executes a courtly bow.
“Lady Olivia! We were not aware that you made it out of Andrias’ castle alive.” He wears what is, for Grime, a friendly grin, and adds, “What an unpleasant surprise.”
“Captain Grime,” Lady Olivia replies with an equally polite tone, “I see that once again rumors of your death have proved untrue. How deeply disappointing. Would you like some tea?”
“How very kind of you. We accept.” Grime says, and Lady Olivia stands up and hangs a kettle over the fireplace, then pokes at the coals to get the fire going again. She then proceeds to set out cups and saucers that look far nicer than the rest of the hut, and an equally ornate teapot.
“I’m afraid that we don’t have much in the way of options,” she says, “beyond this black tea here, or this somewhat paler variety here. Honestly, I’ve no idea what the precise blend is, I didn’t have the opportunity to consult with the original owner of the hut.”
“Worry not, Lady Olivia, we understand that we live in unusual times.” Grime replies, still speaking in the same formal mode. “The black tea will be fine, don’t you agree, Sasha?”
Sasha shoots Grime a look that says you have got to be fucking joking , but when he does not seem to provide a response beyond an expectant look, she shrugs. “Yeah, sure whatever.”
The three sit in awkward silence while the tea steeps, and then Olivia efficiently serves the tea and, when it’s clear that neither Sasha or Grime is going to take a sip until she does, does so. The tea is actually good, Sasha decides, and says as much. Lady Olivia’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Thank you, Master Sasha. Although I confess,” Olivia smiles, taking a sip of her tea, “that I was really only stalling for time until General Yunan returns.”
Grime immediately has his hammer in hand and dashes out of the hut, clearly excited about the idea of another fight with Yunan. Sasha is less invested in rehashing a fight with Yunan, but she is invested in keeping Grime safe, so she takes another sip of her tea and fixes Olivia with a look.
“What are you doing here?”
“I am here,” Lady Olivia says, “to rescue my daughter. You are here for similar reasons, are you not?”
“More or less.” Sasha says, surprised at the revelation that Lady Olivia has a daughter. “Grime and I are going to bust Marcy out.”
Something flickers across Olivia’s face that looks like amusement. “Very good. Then our purposes are aligned. Yunan’s been scouting the castle to find out where they’re keeping her.”
“Uh, Marcy’s not your daughter.” Sasha says, realizing in the moment how stupid that sounds.
“Not by blood, no,” Olivia says, with a small nod, “but she is important to me. Make no mistake, Master Sasha, I will raze Newtopia to the ground if it means bringing her out of that castle safely.”
“Good.” Sasha says, and feels like she understands Olivia a little more. There’s the sound of shouting from outdoors, and she stands. “Sorry, I’m going to have to keep Grime from killing your uh,” and her eyes land on the small, single bed in the hut and she smirks, “ companion .”
General Yunan, youngest...something or other, who cares, is squaring off with Grime. “What treachery are you plotting here, Grime?”
“I plot nothing,” Grime says, hefting his hammer and growling, “but I won’t pass up the chance for a rematch, unless the great General Yunan is frightened of risking defeat again .”
Yunan crouches low, her teeth bared. “Are you sure you wish to fight, old toad? Perhaps you should return to your hole and consult your ancestors first.”
Grime spits on the ground and ignites the back of the hammer. Things probably would escalate further, except Sasha chooses that moment to step between the two. “Stand down, both of you! Grime, did you forget why we’re here?”
Grime grimaces, but he stands up and snuffs the flames from his hammer. Yunan seems less willing to stop, at least until Olivia marches out of the hut with a sharp “Yunan! Behave yourself!” that seems to do the trick. Yunan stiffens, blushes slightly, and relaxes her stance. Grime observes this interaction and bursts into laughter.
“Ha! A romance for the ages, I see!”
Yunan seems like she wants to protest, but another look from Lady Olivia shuts her up. “General Yunan,” Olivia says, her tone formal, “were you successful?”
“Yes, my lady.” Yunan says, taking a knee. “I have her location.”
“Where?” Sasha says, dashing to grab Yunan by the shoulders and shake her. “Where is she? How do I get to her?”
“You cannot.” Yunan replies, simply. “Marcy is kept in the innermost sanctum of the castle. There is some kind of… device that causes the doors to open only for newts. There are also guards everywhere. It is,” Yunan pauses and looks deeply unhappy, “impossible to get in and out without detection.”
But Sasha isn’t here to be told anything is impossible. “Bullshit. There’s gotta be a way in.”
“Enough explosives could do the job.” Grime opines. “Although you’d risk harm to Marcy.”
“How about instead of having this discussion outside,” Lady Olivia says, “we come inside where we can come up with a proper plan.”
It goes like this: General Yunan (Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, and the youngest newt ever to achieve the rank of general in the Newtopian Army) and Lady Olivia (General Yunan’s girlfriend roommate and former advisor to the now generally-accepted as a giant asshole King Andrias) will utilize the recently-modernized sewer systems of Newtopia to infiltrate the bowels of the castle where Marcy is kept. Sasha will, at the same time, cause a distraction elsewhere -- aided by Grime’s bag full of boom shrooms and her own desire to maybe give King Andrias something to remember her by, like a sword in his fucking throat. Grime, much to his visible annoyance, is meant to be the getaway driver -- a role he only accepts after Sasha pulls him aside privately to ask for him to take care of a few other preparations as well that make him grin widely and let out a booming laugh.
Which is why Sasha strides up to the front gates of the castle, primes a boom shroom, and hucks it through a window.
“Andrias!” Sasha shouts. “I’m here! Don’t be a coward!” There’s no response until the blast, after which time a host of killer robots come pouring out of the gate. Sasha draws her swords and smiles wide, feeling a rush of adrenaline and a wild joy. “Alright,” she yells, “guess I’ll come up and meet you!”
The robots, being robots, do not react to her battlecry, but they do fall before her blades like wheat before a scythe, so it’s not bad. Everything Sasha has is poured into this fight, the months of training, of wondering whether Marcy is alive or not, everything sharpened to achieving one simple goal: save Marcy . Everything else is secondary.
The robots are fast, but Sasha is faster -- and she cuts her way inside without breaking a sweat. There’s the sound of pounding footsteps and a squad of what she recognizes as members of the Night Guard come charging down the hall, and the battle really begins. She cuts down one guard, then another, and then tosses another boom shroom to scatter the rest. Some debris catches her on the forehead, but she barely registers it and runs for the throne room.
Andrias is waiting, sat on his throne. “Well, young lady,” he rumbles, “I hope you’ve got a good explanation for this. You break into my house, destroy my robots, kill my guards, and for what? You and I both know that you don’t have the strength to challenge me alone.”
Sasha laughs, and raises her swords. “I’m not alone.” She says, and there’s a flash of red light in her eyes that shouldn’t be there , and she charges. Andrias, caught off guard, is slightly too slow in raising his shield, and Sasha scores a deep cut across his arm, causing him to roar in pain and rear back. It’s a good start, but Sasha’s already been fighting for a while now, and Andrias hasn’t. Still, Sasha is moving fast, and there’s teeth-rattling force behind her swings, and Andrias’ flaming sword can’t seem to find its mark.
Then, Sasha starts to lose ground. Andrias catches her with a sweep of his tail and sends her into the wall. Ears ringing, she staggers to her feet and barely manages to deflect the flaming sword into the wall. Andrias reaches out with his other hand and grabs Sasha, his massive hand crushing her.
“Well,” he says, “I gotta admit it: you’ve put up way more of a fight than I thought you would. A pity you’re on the wrong side, but hey-o, sometimes that’s how it goes. Time for me to put you out of your-”
The building shakes as an enormous series of explosions rock the city. Andrias is so startled, he drops Sasha to the ground, and she feels a new rush of energy. “Like I told you,” she says, spitting blood on the floor, “I’m not alone. And I will tear this city down.” She takes a few steps back, then turns and sprints out of the throne room, which is beginning to show signs of severe structural distress.
“We’ll meet again, kid!” Andrias calls after her. “I’ve still got your little friend, after all!”
That’s what you think . Sasha thinks, speeding out of the castle. The way is still blocked by robots, though the Night Guard seems more concerned with avoiding falling rubble than anything else. Sasha still ends up in a running fight that has her heart pounding. Every part of her is sending increasingly concerned signals relating to their ability to continue functioning, but Sasha’s got an appointment to keep and she’s not about to miss it.
She bursts out of the gates of the palace and makes for the city center. Smoke hangs heavy over the city, and squads of panicked soldiers barely even notice her -- the robots keep finding her, however, and she begins to think that maybe getting Marcy out alive is going to cost her everything she has to give. A pity , she thinks, but at least Marcy’s safe. Just as she’s made the decision to turn and make a last stand, there’s a clatter of wheels and Grime appears on a snail-drawn cart, and in the back is a sight that makes Sasha’s heart soar. Olivia and Yunan are there, yes, but more importantly, nestled between them, semi-conscious and shaking but alive , is Marcy Wu.