Chapter Text
"Well, this certainly is a fine mess..." Peach remembered thinking as she sat up, one hand tenderly pressed to her head. That had been the last thought to pass through her head before everything had gone dark. She blinked her eyes a few times as they adjusted to take in her new surroundings.
Musty gray walls surrounded her on all sides, and the stale smell of dust and moss hung in the air. In the gloom she could make out a series of black bars along one of the walls. The floor was nothing but a darker, danker gray, a mess of brickwork with a small drain in the center. She herself was lying on a rock-hard wooden bench jutting out of the wall. She didn't even want to think about the bucket sitting in the corner. Her loud pink dress and brilliant blonde hair provided the only color in the entire room, illuminated only by a single torch glowing softly from beyond the black bars.
A prison cell. So it's true then, I was kidnapped...again. What a fine mess indeed!
She pulled herself up onto her feet, brushed the crumbs of dirt off her dress, and stretched her arms wide. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up as much memory as her brain could account for.
She was sure she had been outside...in the garden, perhaps? Yes, the turnips had been thirsty that day. And she remembered waving to Toadsworth as he watched from the window. And then what? Oh...right. All in one instant there had been a sudden crackling sound, followed by a bout of giddy, almost maniacal laughter, and then everything had gone dark. The old sack trick, she surmised.
Kidnapped...again. She sighed aloud, wondering why she should ever have expected any different. Getting regularly snatched up for nefarious, harebrained purposes was all in the contract for a Princess, right there in the fine print. Things had always been done this way. Still, it wasn't a pleasant thing to deal with.
And something else had started bothering her now: WHO had kidnapped her? The usual suspect wasn't the sack-carrying type, and most definitely wouldn't giggle fiendishly. Roar and gloat, maybe. But absolutely no giggles. It must have been one of the younger ones. They'd been involved in shenanigans like this before…
...but more importantly, WHY had they done it?
She found her thoughts interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. They were tiny and made little pap pap pap noises on the stone bricks.
"Dinner time, prisoners!" a particularly nasal voice called out. "Hope you're hungry for a nice bowl of slop soup!"
Peach watched as a green-shelled koopa troopa plodded its way over to her cell, carrying a single wooden bowl of lumpy cream-colored mush. There was an indignant huff as the guard knelt down to reach the tiny meal latch at the bottom of the iron bar door.
"...that's dinner?" Peach asked, eyeing the slop uncertainly.
"You're lucky you even get this much!" the koopa replied snidely. "Most prisoners don't get such royal treatment!"
"Most prisoners?" she said, raising an eyebrow as she peered through the bars down the corridor. "I could be mistaken, but it sure looks to me like I'm the ONLY prisoner down here!"
The guard snorted and wagged a finger at her. "Don't get smart with me, Princess! Th-the boss has just been a very busy bee lately and doesn't have even a lick of time to waste on prisoners!"
Peach crossed her arms. "Then why kidnap me?"
"Not telling!" he grunted, shoving the bowl through the gap with his foot before slamming it shut again. "Now eat up! We wouldn't want you to go hungry during your stay here, would we?"
Peach remained silent for a moment, studying the look on the guard's face. There was something in that tone that struck a certain chord, and a little bell of recognition rang somewhere in the back of her mind. Pity? No, that wasn't it...but something about the way the words were grumbled definitely sounded off-key.
She stuffed the thought away for now, took a deep breath, and regained her usual composure. "Very well, then. What is shall be."
"That's what I thought!" came the gruff reply. "And I'm gonna be standing watch right over here, so don't get any funny ideas!"
Peach took the bowl and returned to her place on the cold, hard bench. Even with the soft pillowy down of her dress beneath her, the bench was thoroughly uncomfortable and all but hurt to sit on. She sighed and stared into the lumpy gravy in front of her. It was definitely going to be a long night…
I wonder if anyone's taken notice of my absence yet, she mused, twirling the spoon in the sludge. What am I saying, of course they'll have noticed! Everyone in the kingdom keeps such close tabs on me, if I'd even been missing for even ten minutes, they'd all be in a panic! It must be absolute chaos back at the castle…
I wonder if anyone's summoned Mario yet…
"Hmph!" she hmphed, stabbing at a potato-shaped lump. Poor Mario. I hope he wasn't busy. I hope my kidnapping didn't interrupt a much-needed vacation or anything. He must always feel so put out, having to drop everything just to come and rescue me at a moment's notice. It must be such an inconvenience being a hero!
Shhh, she told herself, sitting up straight again. It's not your fault that you got kidnapped. These circumstances were not any that you could control. Mario will understand, even if this is a major inconvenience to him...he MUST understand. Surely he's used to this sort of thing by now...
She raised her spoon and took a whiff of the slop, making a sour face. Still...sitting in a cell with nothing to do but eat slop and count the ruffles on her dress was not something she was prepared to sit through again. Not after last time. In fact, she wasn't even worried about her rescue...rescue always came in the end. Rather, she found herself more worried that she'd be spending several days in utter, mind-numbing boredom. Unable to attend to the needs of her subjects, or to keep an eye on the growing gardens, or to plan and cater a house party for her friends...she wouldn't be able to do a single productive thing at all!
How unacceptable!
She angrily jammed the spoon into her mouth, suppressed a gagging noise (if only because gagging on food was completely impolite), quickly swallowed, and dropped the spoon back into the slop, trying hard not to cough or convulse in the process. Her long hours spent training in the art of manners were paying off.
"Whatsa matter, your Royal Pink-ness?" came the voice of the guard, along with the sound of a newspaper page being turned. "You swallow down the wrong tube?"
This slop tastes like glue and old rubber, she didn't say out loud.
"I think this dinner could use some salt," she replied, as politely and someone could through clenched teeth.
"Salt?!" the sound of crinkling paper, followed by an angry pap pap pap as the koopa marched up to the cell door. "Are you suggesting that our gourmet prison slop is anything less than the BEST slop you've ever tasted?!"
The princess blinked a few times, genuinely startled by his reaction. "...I'm sorry, I haven't tasted much slop to begin with...but...no?"
"Unbelievable!" he shouted, tossing two tiny turtle hands in the air. "You've disrespected the slop, which in my book means you've disrespected CHEF HIMSELF! Amazing!"
"Please don't shout," Peach said calmly, putting a hand over her ear. "I surely didn't mean disrespect, but this slop--".
"Is the BEST slop this side of the plains!" he interrupted, now pacing back and forth with agitation. "You're in dangerous waters now, Princess, ho-ho! You've insulted a Master Chef! You'd better hope he never hears about this one, oh-ho-ho indeed!"
Peach stared back at the guard, not entirely sure how to advance the conversation from here. But something inside her, whether a sudden burst of bravado or the mysterious and sly grin of cunning, compelled her to keep pushing it.
"...yes," she finally said, rising to full height, shoulders out and chest puffed. "This dish is...incomplete. I feel it needs something a little more before I'll admit that it's the best prison slop I've ever tasted."
"You are downright BEGGING for trouble, missy!" he warned, pointing a finger at her.
"What else can you do to me?" she asked, a bit more haughtily than she'd meant to. "I'm already a prisoner here, aren't I?"
"...y-y--why I--oh, oh-HO! You just wait! You're in for it now! I'm gonna go tell the Chef on you!"
With a quick scamper of his feet and gleeful conviction in his eyes, the guard dashed off down the dim hallway, pap pap pap. Peach finally exhaled, deflating from the waist up. She set the bowl aside on the prison bed and put a hand to her forehead.
Why did I think that was a good idea? What compelled that reaction from me? I'm not royalty in here, I'm a prisoner! I have no right to talk back like that!
...but why shouldn't I?, the voice in the back of her mind piped up. I was kidnapped, right? So it must have been for a reason...and THAT must mean that I'm meant to be kept alive and unharmed! So what else CAN they do to me? They really can't do a thing to me just for making a dinner request! I may be a captive, but that doesn't mean I'm not anything less than the Princess I always will be!
Her thoughts got ahead of her and disappeared as soon as the footsteps came back. The pap pap pap was accompanied this time by a slower, more deliberate fump fump fump sound. As the guard slowly reemerged from the shadows, leering back at the princess and making cutthroat motions, he was followed closely by a very large pink mole sporting a puffy white toque at the crown of his head and a stained white apron around his waist.
"This," the guard said, in a vinegar-sour voice, "Is our Master Chef, Cook!"
"Yeah," Cook mumbled, staring at the floor. His expression largely suggested that he already regretted having stepped away from his kitchen, even if only for this minute.
"Now," the guard continued, "You're gonna tell Cook, who, I will point out, is holding a very pointy and very meaty fork in one hand, exactly what you told me about the slop that he made especially for you."
Peach eyed the fork in his hand dubiously, and took careful notice of the awkward way he avoided eye contact back with her. Again, something inside was itching for her to lock on to his troubles and pry that armor apart.
"Go on!"
She blinked, rejoining the present, and cleared her throat before speaking. "Hello, Cook. I feel like this prison slop isn't living up to its full potential, and I think it could use some salt."
"Recipe didn't call for salt," he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
"Well, that doesn't mean you CAN'T use salt," she replied patiently, holding the bowl out through the bars toward him. "You can deviate from a recipe if you think it might enhance the flavor!"
Cook paused, then actually DID make eye contact, raising a brow in the process. "...you can do that?"
"You can do anything! Meal-making is all about experiments!"
She paused long enough to meet his gaze directly, then added: "...at least, that's how I cook."
A moment of silence passed as Cook unwrapped this new parcel of information. The guard impatiently tapped his foot, waiting on Cook's response. The mole slowly turned his head back toward the kitchen, then suddenly snapped back to Peach.
"...you said experiments? Like potions and science and magic?" He raised the fork and pointed it directly at her. "YOU know how to do all that?"
Peach's heart beat faster under her serene, royal expression as she tried not to look at the stringy blob of unidentified meat dangling from the end of the fork. "Of course! I'd be happy to offer some cooking tips, if you're interested...".
Cook scratched the top of his head with his fork. "...I dunno if the boss would like that."
"You're darn tootin' he wouldn't!" the guard jumped in. "Now come on, Cook, make her pay for her insolence!"
"I really don't want to make her pay for anything," Cook said, meekly. "I just wanna cook things. I mean, that's even my name, isn't it?"
"Again, I'd be happy to teach you!" Peach added.
"Don't let her trick you, Cook, it's a trick! Don't get tricked!"
"I'm not gonna get tricked!" Cook shouted, slamming his fist into the wall.
There was a pause as Cook pulled his hand back and steadied his breathing. "Why you always gotta like I'm super dumb and everyone's gonna take advantage of my gullibility?"
"Cook..." the koopa sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "Cook, Cook, Cook...your job is to make your gourmet recipes for prisoners, and sometimes to ram that meat fork into their guts when they don't follow the rules. And you're supposed to leave all that hard thinking stuff to ME!"
"But…".
"No buts! I won't have you gettin' tricked by some floofy pink bimbo in a cage!"
"But I'm NOT gonna get tricked!" Cook wailed. "She's just gonna TEACH me some tricks!"
He turned back to Peach, who, underneath her pleasant aura of charm and grace, had been eyeing the guard with a dagger-edge stare ever since 'floofy pink bimbo'. "Can you teach me to be a better chef, Prisoner Princess?"
Peach smiled, and opened her mouth to reply, only for the impertinent koopa's voice to spit out and interrupt first. "Cook! You'd better start listening to me THIS INSTANT, or I'll--ghyhk!"
As if by pure reflex, the moment Cook's beefy fist came down against the guard's shell, he curled up and retracted inside it, falling to the ground in the most comical flailing flop Peach had ever been ashamed of snickering at. She deftly put a hand up to her mouth, pretending to cough as she watched his shell wobble back and forth idly in the aftermath.
"You're coming with me, prisoner," Cook said resolutely, unlocking the door with the guard's own keys. "This might be my only chance to ever learn something. Nobody else around here's ever gonna cook anything, so SOMEBODY oughtta be good at it, right?"
"That's a very noble sentiment, Cook!" Peach replied with a smile as she stepped out of her cell. Beneath it all, her heart was already racing with the exciting prospects of escape, and her mind was eager to catch up, highlight exits and routes and vantage points. She hadn't at all planned on getting this far in the first place, and she knew she'd need to think fast and think smart if she was ever going to make good on her plan.
But the most important aspect of acting quickly is the ability to remain calm and wait patiently for opportunity to show its face.
With a nod and a grunt, Cook took hold of her wrist quite firmly and led her down the corridor, into what she could only guess was the kitchen. Much like her cell, it was drab and gray, two sizes too small, and smelled like old salad. Peach pursed her lips once or twice, glancing around disapprovingly before turning to again face Cook, who gestured to his bulky scrap-metal oven.
"Well?" he said, still holding on to her wrist. "What do I have to do cook good?"
Peached cleared her throat and tried, tactfully, but also unsuccessfully, to free her arm. "Well...first I think you'll need to let go of me."
"Can't do that," he replied, shaking his head. "Guard said you were a tricky one, so I gotta make sure you don't escape, or I'LL be the one that ends up in the pot!"
"I promise I won't give you any trouble," she insisted, tugging slightly. "Even if I tried to run, I'm sure you'd catch me in the blink of an eye. I couldn't escape even if I tried!"
Cook's face scrunched up in thought for a moment, but he still didn't sound entirely convinced.
Peach sighed, took a deep breath, then lifted her head back up. "Listen Cook, I'm going to be stuck here in this dungeon, probably for a long time. Who knows how long it'll take before Mario shows up? And I don't know about you, but sitting in a cold, dark dungeon for days and days on end with nothing to do but sing children's counting songs and play rock-paper-scissors with a cranky old guard who will probably always throw rock every time just doesn't sound like a prison sentence I'll be able to live through. You do want to keep me alive, don't you? If you allow me to play chef here in this kitchen with you - just for a little while of course - I can teach you a thing or two about fine cuisine, and in return, I won't have to go stir-crazy! What do you say to that?"
His eyes went blank for a moment as he struggled to keep up with all the words she'd just spoken, but he eventually made it to the finish line and decided it all made sense in the end. "...fine. But no funny stuff...well, I mean like, no tricks. You can still do funny stuff. Tell jokes if you want. I'm bad at the knock-knock ones though...".
Peach gave a tiny sigh of relief and smiled as Cook released her arm. Half of the sigh came from knowing she wasn't likely now to be pummeled by some brainless brute, and the other half came from understanding that Cook was, at his core, nothing more than a conflicted soul. A gentle giant built for muscle but yearning for art. Without even asking, Peach had seen right to soul of his being, as she could with nearly anyone, and once you know that much about a person, you could Princess-talk your way through anything.
She had acknowledged and compressed all of these thoughts in a mere instant, gave a polite nod to Cook, then trained her attention on the task at hand, turning to the stove.
"Alright Cook, let's start at the beginning. Show me what you've got so far for this prison slop you've been working on."
He pointed unceremoniously to a greasy pot on the burner. "Potatoes."
She waited for him to list the rest of the ingredients, and when that list did not follow, she blinked and said, "...that's all?".
"Well...there's water in 'em too."
"That's water?" she ventured, hesitantly grabbing what appeared to be the least sticky part of the pot's handle and immediately regretting taking a whiff of the contents. "Where do you get the water from? Actually, never mind, I'm not sure I want to know...".
"Well, I mean, that IS what the recipe said," Cook mumbled, reciting from memory. "Smash the potatoes against the wall, then add water and stir until they form a thick and brothy mash soup. Serves one to fourteen, depending on jail capacity."
Peach pursed her lips. "That's all it says? Hmm...sounds like 'incomplete' was the right word after all."
"You think so too?" he asked, fidgeting with his fingers. "Cause I've wondered for a long time why we have so many ingredients down here if all we ever use is potatoes and water!"
She quickly spun around, eyes sparkling. "Other ingredients?"
He nodded and flipped open the cabinets overhead to reveal rows and racks of assorted jars, filled with an entire rainbow's worth of colored liquids and powders and mushy fruits. Peach's expression quickly brightened as she instantly began recognizing them by texture and smell.
"Cook," she said with the happiest smile she'd been able to muster since she'd woken up, "I'm about to show you a whole new world!"
"Now, let's start by sorting out what you've got to work with…" her voice drifted gently down the hall, echoing back into the block of cells she'd been escorted from previously. The guard was still lying on the floor, limbs tucked safely inside his shell. His breathing had been slowly steadying again as his reflexes finally began to uncoil and allow him to extract his limbs to their rightful places.
All of this is so wrong, he seethed to himself, flexing his stubby little toes as the life returned to them. Rule number one, you never take the prisoner out of their cell! That's the first lesson they teach you at Prison Guard School!
He meshed his fingers together and cracked his knuckles.
She's got some twisted plot brewing under that pile of blond hair, I just know it...she's gonna catch my poor little numbskull with his shields down and then make a break for it while he's picking his nose, and then both of us are REALLY gonna hear it from the boss!
His head slowly popped back into place.
Worst of all, he's the COOK, and I'm the GUARD. He's supposed to take orders from ME! I should be the one calling all the shots when it comes to prisoners!
He made a motion to roll up his sleeves, forgetting for a moment that his turtle neck was, in fact, not wearing a sweater at all. He donned his best frown and marched headlong into the kitchen, with as much determination and dignity as a scrawny-armed turtle on two legs can display.
"Cook, you'd better have a DARNED good explanation for what you did back there! And I'm in a very bad mood, so I don't wanna hear more than five words!"
Cook held up a finger and replied, "Shhh, she's making the soup!"
"...soup?"
Peach turned around to face the guard and gave him a polite, but vaguely insincere, smile. "You'd be surprised at the dishes you could make with all these ingredients you've had just lying around in here!"
"...you're making soup??"
"I'm learning so much," Cook said excitedly, watching in fascination as Peach continued to stir the pot.
"...about soup???"
"Is something wrong, Guard?" Peach asked, poking around in the cabinet.
The guard's tiny hand clenched slowly into a fist and he slammed it on the counter. "All you're teaching him is how to make an even LESS filling version of a dish he already knows how to make?! What kind of rip-off teacher ARE you, anyway?!"
"Please don't shout, Guard," Cook said, holding him back with one arm. "This's really important to me."
"Well keeping my job is important to ME!" he wailed, trying, without any results, to shove his way past. "I'm telling you, this is all a TRICK!"
"No tricks here," Cook replied, shaking his head. "I watched her put everything into the pot."
"Put WHAT into the pot?!"
"Well, I started with an onion broth," Peach explained, lightly tapping the powdered contents of another jar into the pot, "And then I've added a few chopped vegetables, salt, a dash of pepper, and now, for an extra flavor kick, I'm putting in some crushed passionflower and these delightful numinous mushrooms! I can't believe no one ever told you about all these wonderful ingredients, Cook! You've been sitting on a culinary goldmine all this time!"
"Well," he answered, meekly, "I told you, the recipe never asked for them…".
"You should never be afraid to deviate from the recipe," Peach advised, stirring the pot.
"You should ALWAYS be afraid to deviate from the recipe!" Guard shouted, stamping his foot. "What if you go too far and it turns into a disaster and the boss hates it, hmm? You WANNA get demoted to laundry boy?!"
"You mustn't be afraid to try though," she replied, calmly as ever.
"You should only try if you know it's gonna work!" he countered, wagging his finger.
"You only learn by understanding your failures," she corrected, tapping the spoon against the pot.
"You don't get more than ONE failure!" he screamed, beating his fists on Cook's arm.
Peach flashed him a knowing smile, flicked the switch on the stove, moved the pot to the side, and dipped a ladle into the soup. "If that's the case, then please allow me to take the blame for this one!"
She offered a spoonful to Cook, motioning for him to give it a taste. No sooner had he taken the ladle than his companion slipped out of his grip and tried to swipe it out of his hand.
"Don't be stupid, Cook!" he snarled, waving his arms frantically. "How do you know she didn't poison that or something?"
"She wouldn't poison it, Guard!" he resisted, keeping it high out of his reach. "Can you really imagine a Princess like her poisoning anyone?"
"That's not the point, you bonehead! Make HER taste it first!"
"Umm...excuse me, boys?"
"How is THAT going to teach me anything? Don't you care about my culinary education?"
"Cook, that's not the point!"
"YOUR job is to guard the Princess, Guard! That's why your name is Guard, Guard! My job is to be a master gourmand, and that means I can't be afraid to learn from my failures! Isn't that what you said, Princess?"
"Well, yes, but…".
"Fine!!" guard screamed, beating a tiny turtle fist against Cook's chest. "If that's how it has to be, then let ME taste it first, Cook! If anyone's gonna get poisoned and die from a lethal dose of sickly soup, then I don't want it to be you!"
Silence hummed in the air for a moment, accompanied only by Guard's faltering breath. His hands were trembling, and his eyes were strained, now clearly holding back hot tears.
Deep inside, Peach smiled...
"You're the one who's got a future here, Cook," Guard said, softly. "Me, I'm just a lowly prison guard, I'll never add up to anything big. But you, you're on the road to greatness already. So if anyone should take the plunge for some kinda poison soup, it should be worthless old me who goes first…".
He felt a pudgy finger tilt his head back up slowly. "Hey, don't talk like that, Guard...you know this prison would be a mess if it weren't for you, keepin' all these prisoners in line in that special way only you can do."
"Cook..." Guard started, trying to brush away a tear without drawing attention to it.
"Shh," Cook replied. "Your job's just as important as mine. Your job's very important...and YOU'RE very important."
Guard couldn't even respond. Answers kept forming in his head, but his mouth kept locking up, and no sound would come out. It was embarrassing. It infuriated him. But there was nothing he could do about that now...
His silence was at last interrupted by the sound of Peach politely clearing her throat. He turned to see her holding out a second ladle.
"Why don't you both try it together, then?"
They both stared back in a moment of silence. There was a certain warmth and sincerity radiating from Peach's smile that seemed to captivate them, even calm them. There was serenity and peace in her voice, a certain genuine feeling that couldn't be faked.
Both turned to look back at each other. The look they shared was one full of the history and deep friendship they shared. It communicated so many things without a single spoken word. In that single, binding moment, an amalgamation of their entire lives spent together, Peach could see that they really understood each other completely.
And without any further fanfare, they both shrugged and took the ladles from her, one apiece, then took a deep swig, allowing the warm soup to swish around and grace them with its magical, intoxicating taste before swallowing.
And intoxicate them it certainly did, for they both fell over in a heap mere seconds later.
"And now you know how to make the world's quickest sleeping potion!" Peach announced with pride, holding back the urge to giggle at her own handiwork.
She placed the ladles neatly back in the pot and quickly shuffled her way right out of the kitchen.
…but no, wait. Something made her stop and look back. Deep down, she sighed and cursed her eternally polite and benevolent nature…
With a quick dash back into the kitchen, she neatly jotted a few words on a scrap of paper, produced a lipstick crayon from her pocket, tucked the paper into Cook's unresisting hand, and THEN shuffled off down the hallway beyond the kitchen. The poor gullible Cook would much later awaken to find himself holding an apology note, followed by the preferred recipe for a very effective sleeping potion, signed in lipstick with a pink heart. It would remain one of his most cherished possessions for years.
Peach tip-toed on down the hallway, pressed as hard against the brick wall as her puffy bustle dress would allow without its inner framework making too much noise. This was a very ineffective outfit for a stealth operation, she noted glumly. Might need to either ditch this dress or prepare for another encounter soon…
She stuck close to the huge tapestries hanging from the ceiling, each one depicting a different close-up view of some horrible creature's face. Something halfway between a turtle and an ox, always leering, jeering, or sneering malevolently. Such tapestries lined either side of the hall, all the way down toward the open courtyard up ahead.
The list of suspected kidnapper identities narrowed considerably.
As the walls split farther apart and the ceiling disappeared overhead, she switched gears from sneak mode to proper Princess stride, walking cautiously along the wide checkerboard floor.
The courtyard was actually quite a pleasant place, especially contrasted against the dank and dim dungeon. The dark-light-dark slabs of the stone path went on to create a massive square in the center, with four stone columns pinning the corners. A series of carefully-trimmed rose bushes ran between each column in short intervals, and the bluest patch of sky hovered above with a gentle fountain of sunlight pouring down to complete the scene.
Add a few mushrooms and this courtyard could very well have been the sort of she herself would have built.
Questions continued prodding at her mind as she stepped between the bush rows into the central square. She now had a good idea of WHO had kidnapped her, but again, the more important mystery was WHY had they done it? For money? Maybe a certain lust for revenge, or spite? To inconsequentially dangle her on a fishing line in an effort to lure out a bigger, "more important" fish like Mario?
Answers weren't following, and she felt frustrations welling up in their place. So much frustration, in fact, that her guard fell for the duration of nearly four whole steps, and she almost forgot entirely that she was still on a stealth escape mission. She held a hand up to her temple for a moment to stop the tumbling thoughts, and return to alert and active sneak-stepping.
Immediately, the floor sank down on the next step.
She threw herself backward as an enormous chunk of stone in the shape of a horrible turtle-ox head sprung out of the ground - quite literally, it was attached to a spring - and bobbled menacingly above her, that same diabolical grin from the hall tapestries now staring her right in the face.
And it was laughing hysterically at her, too.
"WAHAHAHAHAHA!!! The look on your face!! WOW!!!"
Peach slowly lowered her hands and stopped shouting when she realized it wasn't going to gobble her up. It just bounced limply back and forth. She also realized it wasn't the one actually doing the laughing.
The sun vanished behind a cloud she was certain hadn't been there before as the voice echoed and cascaded off the castle walls. "What a SUCKER!!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!"
The giant stone head eventually stopped wobbling and slowly retracted itself back under the surface of the stone floor. She had gotten a good look at its face though, and recognition kicked in. It didn't even have to kick in, because that same face appeared atop one of the stone pillar behind the head, still cackling like mad.
"Sorry if I SCARED ya, Princess!!! HAHAHA!!" said the little Koopa, waving his hand in greeting. "Hope I didn't make ya pee your pants!!!"
"Actually, I'm wearing a dress," Peach replied, pulling herself to her feet. "Which is more than can be said for you, Iggy Koopa…".
"Hoo hoo hoo!! Ya got that right!!!" Iggy hollered, wiggling his backside and slapping it with the wand. "Naked is freedom!!!"
"Nude is rude," she replied, rolling her eyes.
"So I gotta say, Princess, this is a COMPLETELY unexpected turn of events!!" Iggy said, hopping down from his perch and landing with a smash. "I kinda figured you'd just wait around for Mario to show up, but SURPRISE!!! You escaped on your own!!"
"Yes Iggy, I know," she said, patiently. "I was there for the whole thing."
"Hehehehe, you musta got FED UP with Guard and Cook, eh??? WAHAHAHAHA!!! FED UP!!! GET IT?!?"
She only smiled, rather fakely. She knew from past experience that Iggy was impossible to take seriously, not only because his personality matched that of a small child who found everything in the known world utterly hilarious, but also because his head looked like a rutabaga with glasses.
Best to play along though, on the off chance he might accidentally let slip why he'd kidnapped her in the first place...
"Well then," she said, straightening up as princesses often did, "What happens now?"
Iggy stopped laughing long enough to roll back to his feet and look the princess in the eye, crazed grin to royal smirk, his head barely level with her waist and his sprout of hair brushing against her chin. "Now?? Now you get back in your CAGE, Princess!!! Before I have to get ROUGH with ya!!!"
He tried to spin her around by latching on to her legs, but due to a very handy height advantage, she remained firmly unmoved. "I'd really rather not go back in the cell, Iggy."
"Tough beans!!!" he shouted, pushing hard with his shoulder. "You gotta stay locked up!!! At least for now!!"
"For now?" She asked, picking up any context he might accidentally be laying down. "Is something going to happen later?"
"MAAAAAAAYBEEEEEE!!!" Iggy sang, giving up on the pushing and instead tapping her on the hip with the wand. "Or maybe you'd better just SKEDADDLE before I have to use THIS bad boy on ya!!!"
"I'm fairly certain you won't use that on me," she said, wagging her finger and maybe wondering if she should have saved that card to play a little later. "If you're keeping me prisoner, I'm sure you must also need me unharmed, right?"
The smile he gave in response was twisted and toothy and terrible. "...who said I needed you UNHARMED???"
With a few back handsprings and an unnecessarily flashy twirl, Iggy took a stand at the base of the stone pillar, artfully bounced and juggled the wand between his hands, then quite suddenly flung a neon green fireball at her from the jewelled tip.
Peach hopped deftly aside and watched the fireball bounce and skitter until it faded away before turning back to Iggy, who was once again giggling like mad. Gears in her mind were already spinning, logging and sifting through every word he said in search of some kind of context or clues. The trick would be to keep him talking…
"Is that all you're going to do, Iggy?" she asked, as close to middle ground between politeness and challenge could be attained. "Zap me with a fireball and lock me up in a cage?"
"Sure sounds like a solid plan to me!!!" He laughed and fired another shot.
A solid plan. This had probably been a premeditated venture.
"I have to say," she had to say as she dodged again. "I'm a bit offended that you'd just stash me away like that. After all, I'm your guest!"
"I didn't invite you, dummy, I KIDNAPPED you!!!"
Didn't invite. He was probably ordered to do it.
"But you haven't even told me the occasion!" she said, swaying back to avoid another shot. "Surely you didn't just kidnap me so you could throw fireballs at me!"
"Hmmm...you're RIGHT!!!" Iggy said, scratching his tiny vegetable head with the end of the wand. "...I did it so I could watch you DANCE!!!!"
And with yet another bout of maniacal laughter, he began rapid-firing shots aimed at Peach's feet. Just as he'd wanted, she started dancing swiftly on her tip-toes, keeping just out of harm's way.
"Come on now, Iggy!" she half-shouted, suddenly grateful for every single dancing lesson she'd forced herself to take over the years. "If you're just going to toy around with me, let's at least play a two-player game!"
The fireballs ceased. A glint of light beamed off Iggy's glasses. "...a game?"
Deep inside, Peach smiled.
"Well, if you won't tell me what's going on, and if you're just going to lock me up in prison otherwise, then let's at least play a game to pass the time," she suggested, fixing her dress back into place. "I'd never forgive myself for being a boring guest."
"That's the first sensible thing you've said today, Princess!!!" Iggy said gleefully. "Let's play a game together!!! How about--"
He clapped his hands together three times, gave a shrill whistle, then blew a raspberry with his tongue. As if they'd been waiting in the hall somewhere, an entire platoon of koopa troopas emerged into the courtyard, lining up in a formation of four rows, two on either side of the center square. It didn't take Peach long to put two and two together when she realized each turtle was standing on their own square of the checkerboard, the ones on her side dressed in red shells, and Iggy's in green.
"--a game of CHESS!!!"
He took up position in the back row and motioned for Peach to do the same. "There's no official chess piece called 'Princess', but you wouldn't mind playing as the King, would you??? AHAHAHAHA!!"
Peach nodded and began automatically striding over to her assigned square on the checkerboard. Her mind was running gymnastics trying to figure out how to stay on top of the situation, so she'd let her default Princess skills autopilot her body for the moment. She just needed a way to make sure she'd win the game…
"Hey Mister Referee!!!" Iggy shouted, hopping excitedly in place. "Get in here and tell us who gets to go first!!!!"
Right on cue, as if descending down from the very sun itself, the cloud Peach had seen block out the sky earlier was now making its way down to the courtyard. As it hovered between the four pillars, a small Lakitu face bobbed up from within the cloud and waved to both armies.
"In accordance with the official rules as stated in 'Iggy Koopa's Laws of Chess, Vol. III'," the referee announced, "Green comes alphabetically before red, and thus Iggy will have the first move of this exciting match!"
I could have told you that, Peach thought with a smirk. Her eyes darted back and forth, comparing her options. Chess or not, she knew a game with someone like Iggy wasn't going to have time for thoughtful and strategic moves. This would be a game played on impulse and random arbitrary moves, something Peach was not particularly good--
"MAKE YOUR MOVE ALREADY, SLOWPOKE!!!!"
She blinked. Iggy had already moved a pawn forward and was now impatiently tapping the wand in his hand with a surly glare trained on her.
She blinked again. Then, remembering her rank, puffed up her chest and pointed to a pawn koopa in the front. "You, forward please."
Without so much as a second thought (or even a second's thought), Iggy sent another pawn to take hers.
"HAHAHAHA!!" he cackled, waving the wand over his head. "Now, watch THIS!!!!"
He spun around in one more circle, then flung a huge fireball forward, crashing it head-on with Peach's pawn. The terrified koopa ducked into its shell in just the nick of time as the collision sent it flying across the courtyard, where it ricocheted off the wall and ended up skidding down the hallway back toward the kitchen.
"WAHAHAHAHA, oh wow, that NEVER gets old!!!" He hollered, lying on his stomach and beating the ground with his fists. Then he stopped and looked Peach directly in the eye. "...imagine how much fun it's going to be when I take YOU!!!!!"
Alarm bells, red flags, and big flashing ALERT! signs were all going off in her head, but she allowed none of them to pass through to her face. She had to keep that perfectly serene royal demeanor she'd perfected instead. Calmly, eloquently, she called her next move.
And immediately, Iggy seized that piece too, amidst more laughter.
Not good, not good, she whispered to herself, trying with every fiber of her being not to sweat or fidget. I can't allow myself to be nervous. I have to show him I'm in control, even though I'm clearly not.
Another move, another fireball.
The calmer I remain, the more it feeds his need for chaos. Soon he'll just get so hyperactive that he'll move without even thinking about it first.
The number of koopas left on the board was dwindling fast.
And that's when I can lure him into a trap! ...but what trap? What do I have to work with?
One piece left.
I didn't have time to plan any traps! This game has been rigged in his favor since the start! He's got complete control of the board! What could I possibly spring on him this late in the game...?
Her eyes lit up.
"Looks like you've only got ONE MOVE LEFT, Princess!!!!" Iggy said, dancing in place with maddening anticipation. "Any last words before I blast your pretty blond hair into ashes?!?"
Peach gave him a warm, friendly smile, complete with a wave of her hand. "Thanks for the game, Iggy! Good match!"
And with that, she reared back, then launched forward, dashing across the board to a single unoccupied square. The green koopas all stepped aside, keeping out of the imminent blast proximity. Iggy charged up the shot. The floor sank beneath Peach's foot.
The referee had been recording the match from his hovering cloud the entire time, in hopes of later broadcasting the event under his own name to gain some new followers, and he couldn't have been more proud of his decision to save recording space on his camera for the finale, because the moment that followed was sure to be movie-making gold.
The giant stone head sprung up out of the checkerboard floor, same as it had before, and this time it was carrying the Princess with it. And when its spring had reached its limit and pulled back, Peach kept flying forward without it, stretching her hand out to grab the target she'd been aiming for. Somewhere inside her brain was a part of her that still questioned how anyone could "grab" a cloud as if it were a solid surface, but that part was quickly shushed and ushered out of the room by the more important ones.
Fingers deeply dug, she swung herself back and forth, building up momentum and trying to ignore the Lakitu bent over the edge of the cloud in an effort to get a shot of her for his movie. Far beneath, she could hear Iggy shouting rampant nonsense about "rules" and "fairness". She didn't even have to guess what he would do next, and she was indeed ready for it...
When the bright green fireballs inevitably came rushing forth, she swung forward and pressed herself up against the underside of the cloud, firmly grasping it at the edges as spread-eagle as her dress would allow. And when the shots flew past, just barely missing her head, they crashed into the peeping Lakitu instead, knocking him out of his perch in a wild cartwheel spin.
Peach quickly unhooked her feet, swung back, then forward again, kicking up into the body of the cloud and climbing inside to take his place. Again, she didn't bother to question the physics involved. Especially with Iggy readying another salvo of fiery green pain down below. It was time to go.
It was then that she realized she had no idea how to drive a cloud.
There were no labels or switches in front of her, just little rounds knots of whatever substance cloud was made of. Maybe they functioned like buttons? No time to think about it. She placed her hands into what looked like a particularly important mound of fluff, and testily poked it with one finger.
The cloud rocketed off into the distance.
And far down below, a very frustrated Iggy Koopa hopped around on the floor and cried like a sore loser. The referee watched his very first cloud, given to him by his loving mother for his birthday, disappear out of sight with a lonely tear in his eye.
After a moment, the statue head slowly receded into its underground bedroom, the chess koopas all reemerged from their collective shells, and Iggy's wailing slowly relaxed into pouty sniffling. The usual calm - if 'calm' was what you called it - returned to the castle courtyard. The sun had even come back into view.
...just in time for the castle wall to crumble with a loud "BA-BOMB!" sound. Bricks flew in every direction, thick dirt and dust choked the air, and a silhouetted figure stood menacingly in the newly-formed opening.
Iggy watched in amazement, rubbing the debris from his eyes as the figure approached him.
"What did you go and do that for?!?!" he shouted, rubbing his vegetable of a head. "And who the heck ARE you anyway????"
The figure made no response, except to start running faster.
"Whoa, hey now!!!!" Iggy reared back and raised the wand. "You'd better back up right this MINUTE!!!!"
He fired a warning shot. The shadow dodged gracefully and continued barreling toward him.
"HEY!!!!"
Before he even had the chance, the stranger jumped into the air, knocked Iggy to the floor with a kick in the head, and landed just behind him.
He felt a pair of hands pick him up and spin him around.
And he looked into the eyes of his attacker.
"...M-MARIO?!?!?!"
Mario quickly snatched the wand from his hand and stuffed into his back pocket. "I heard you captured the Princess! Where'a you keepin' her?"
No longer frightened now that things had returned to their usual ways, Iggy's expression slowly melted back into its familiar twisted grin. He licked his lips, adjusted his glasses, then said with an almost eerie calm:
"...sorry Mario, but your Princess is in another castle!"