Archive of Our Own

“Have you considered,” Lizzie said into the silence of the dorm room, “that you and Sparrow should date?”

Duchess almost didn’t realize that Lizzie was talking to her at all until she felt Lizzie’s eyes expectantly on her. She was just trying to do her thronework, was that so much to ask? “What are you talking about?”

“Need I say more?”

Again Duchess blanched at Lizzie, not for the first time in the two’s time as roommates. Definitely not the first time Lizzie had said something off-book. “Yes. Yes, you do.”

Lizzie, seemingly genuinely surprised by the request, shuffled through the enlarged deck of cards from her mother. She sat cross-legged on her bed, her matching pajama shirt and pants decorated with the red hearts of her lineage. The red birthmark she drew on every morning was already washed away, leaving a faint outline from where it was scrubbed off. “Oh, well, I thought it was quite obvious.” She waved one of her hands around nonchalantly. “You want a happily ever after, he doesn’t have a fairy tale match, you’re clearly smitten with him enough to spend time with him despite his annoying chatter—”

“It’s not always annoying,” she snapped, dropping her quill and crossing her arms. Lizzie arched an eyebrow at her. “Besides, shouldn’t my fairy tale ending include a Royal such as myself?”

“I thought we were beyond that.” Lizzie flicked her wrists, building a small castle out of her card deck. She smiled at it, then collapsed it and shuffled the cards again. “Happily ever afters are made now. Follow your heart and all that.” She snorted, almost disbelieving of that saying, even though hearts were, like, her whole thing. The only person hearts were more connected to was Cupid. “You didn’t sign the book yet, hardly anyone did, so you can date whoever you want. Anyone who says otherwise—off with their heads!”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts!” Lizzie declared, a couple cards slipping from her deck as she did so. She scowled at them, though the foundation was already shaky enough, being built on her bed rather than a more solid surface. With her scowl came the look that Duchess realized pages ago meant Lizzie was going to stop making any sense whatsoever. It was a subtle shift, something she only came to know because she shared the same physical space with Lizzie. “Everything has a place and should be put in it!”

Duchess waited half a minute for an explanation before she turned away, Lizzie apparently content with her declarations. For just a moment, she contemplated going back to her thronework—then paused, her quill poised above the paper.

There was some truth to what Lizzie said, wasn’t there? Most of her classmates had yet to sign the Storybook of Legends. Thus, their destinies remained uncertain, not at all theirs. She wasn’t bound to lose her eventual prince yet as her destiny once promised. She spent a lot of her life avoiding dating for that purpose; it would never be Happily Ever After.

As far as she knew, even if Sparrow had signed the Storybook, which he hadn’t yet, he didn’t have a destined partner for his Happily Ever After, technically speaking. And he was more aligned with the Rebels on that front anyway, something about wanting to be on concert posters or something to that effect. Whatever-after.

And far beside that… Well, Duchess was a simple teenage girl. She could admit to herself, however hard it was, that Sparrow was quite attractive. At least, to her standards. He could easily be a prince if he combed his hair on more occasions. And he was nice to her, that was something.

And… As she was thinking of all this, she felt her cheeks color the same shade as the streaks in Lizzie’s hair.

Neither of them were bound by stories and destinies yet, huh.

If there ever were someone Duchess would want to date, to spend Happily Ever After with…

Even someone like Sparrow could recognize when Melody had some sort of agenda. What was supposed to be a chill jam session very quickly turned into Melody staring at him intensely, playing mix after mix she’d made herself.

Now, Sparrow, as a fellow musician, could understand wanting her music to speak for her, but just sometimes Sparrow wished the girl would use more words. Because he had no idea if he was picking up what she was putting down.

At least, until she played a remixed selection from what of course he could recognize as Duchess’s favorite ballet followed by the newest popular love song on the radio.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” he said almost hesitantly, tuning his guitar again. So far he’d spent the entire twenty minutes of their jam session tuning his guitar for lack of anything else to do. The stage wasn’t nearly as comfortable when he wasn’t playing on it. “And really, if I of all people don’t think it’s the best idea, it probably isn’t.”

Melody quirked one of her eyebrows at him.

“Sure,” he found himself continuing, “Duchess is spella great, and I like spending time with her—though she needs better taste in music.”

Melody leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.

“And I think she’s pretty, sure. And smart, have you seen some of the schemes she’s cooked up?”

Melody nodded once.

“And maybe, since I don’t want my destiny anyway and she didn’t sign, this could be the Happily Ever After she’s been looking for, or at least part of it.” If he didn’t have his hat on, he would run his hand through his perfectly mussed-up hair. Instead, he plucked one of the guitar strings and sighed. He’d already talked himself through this enough times to fill a book of folk tales. “But I doubt there’s any chance she’ll want to go on a date with me, right? We’re just partners in mischief.”

Melody leaned back, straightened her posture, and pressed play on the love song again.

Well, at least that message was easier to understand.

“Alright, alright, you got me,” he finally said, hopping to his feet. He might as well act as if it took a while for him to get on page, but really, his heart was thumping to the beat of one of his favorite songs. “Maybe I’ll ask her out for a hocus latte this weekend.”

Melody gave him one more nod, then slipped her headphones on, leaving the floor for him to play his music. The Merry Men might be able to help him come up with just the right plan so Duchess would give him a chance, but his own thoughts would be jumpstarted by the music thrumming inside him.

The next day, Duchess felt more antsy than usual sitting in the music room with Sparrow, listening to him pluck out random notes on his guitar. Everything Lizzie said played over in her mind the rest of the night, to the point where she hardly finished her thronework before midnight. It was a risk for sure, to want to ask out a Rebel, someone who wasn’t even in the same fairytale as her. She’d shamed Ashlynn and Hunter for it… And here she was, wanting to do the same. But it was okay, right?

“Sparrow,” she eventually said, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. Her heart fluttered again her will, like it was covered in the feathers of her bird form. Though, for all she knew, it was. Anatomy was slightly less clear when you could switch between human and bird. “Would you happen to be free this weekend?”

“Why, got another scheme in your pretty little mind?” Sparrow chuckled to himself at his comment. Duchess, on the other hand, had to turn her face away for a second, trying not to show her blush. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that … but it was the first time it stuck.

“Not exactly.” She swallowed. “Would you like to get a hocus latte this weekend? With me?”

Sparrow suddenly struck a sour chord. A moment passed after that. That probably wasn’t a good sign. She steeled her shoulders like she did when dancing, keeping herself perfectly poised.

“Spell yeah!” Sparrow did his favorite scream-sing for his answer, making Duchess fight a fond smile off of her lips. “I was gonna see if you wanted to, anyway.”

“Oh. Well, good. It’s a date.” The words felt foreign on her lips, but they tasted sweet nonetheless. “And—just to clarify—this is a date.”

Just for confidence’s sake, she refused to phrase it as a question. Sparrow simply grinned and sent her a wink. Again she turned her face away, closing her eyes for a second as she smiled. For once, Lizzie might’ve had a hexcellant idea.