Chapter Text
“So what’s the fucking plan.” Stormy asks, eventually, because the ship’s been awkwardly fucking silent since they left orbit, besides the thing with the blind fairy trying to pilot the damn thing and Darcy freaking the fuck out, but -
“My plan, or your plan?”
“We’ll blab if you do because I’m fucking dying to know what the fuck just happened.” Stormy responds immediately. Darcy shoots her a sharp look, but she’s also fucking vibrating in place so.
The fairy pulls a face. Aisha, she’d said her name was. Stormy’s seen that exact expression on Bloom’s face before she dives into Earth history.
“How much do you know about Andros’ political situation?”
“Fuck all.” Icy rasps. Aisha nods sagely, like she’s jealous.
“If I had my way I’d kill them all and be done with it, but Tressa’s a bleeding heart. Nereus is technically Crown Prince beneath the waves, but it’s supposed to be Tressa, and she doesn’t want it, so we had to get rid of him and my aunt and uncle all together before Tritannus could claim it. And kinslaying isn’t looked at kindly on Andros. Tressa keeps us out of it but she’s been…agitating.” The fairy doesn’t specify who or what, but Stormy’s smart - can’t overthrow entrenched royalty without an army, after all.
“Nice.” Darcy says appreciatively.
“So the fucknut took them out of the picture in a way that lets you save face with the public. And with the Magix Council too, I’d guess. By the time they realize they’ve lost control of Andros your cousins will have calmed things down.” Icy says slowly. The fairy kind of shrugs, but her smirk is bladed. And she’s a fairy, Stormy thinks, which seems a goddamn crime.
“Can anybody track us in this thing?” Stormy asks. Aisha shakes her head immediately.
“No.”
“No as in, no, or no as in, probably not?”
“My parents are currently slug monsters, and they are the only other two people alive who know the codes for this ship. Father’s big into racing ships. He wouldn’t let anyone else handle his…baby.” Aisha sneers. Stormy thinks she’s a little bit in love.
“Right, well, for our part - Icy already demonstrated the use of fairy magic for you. A…friend of ours figured it out, brought us in on the discovery. That led to…” Darcy hesitates. She’s not a good story teller, she picked possibly the worst place to start, and Stormy rolls her eyes before jumping in.
“Magix Counsel stole the Ancestral Coven’s playbook and has been systematically slaughtering its opposition for centuries. We found out because Icy’s girlfriend has the Dragon Flame and wanted some fucking answers. We have technically been instigating a dimension-wide rebellion for a couple months now.”
“We have not, Mother has been. We’re just. The research team.” Darcy sounds almost offended.
“I’m sorry, is treason too scary a charge for you to handle? You’re a fucking witch!”
“I refuse to assume any responsibility for this trainrweck! I’m along for the ride, nothing more.” Darcy sniffs, and that makes Icy snort, so Stormy drops it.
“And the dipshit…somewhere over there?” Aisha asks, and waves a hand in a startlingly accurate guesstimate of the wizard’s location.
“Oh he murdered Bloom’s bio parents and Icy thinks it’ll get her laid if she brings him back for her.”
X
Aisha does not make her final decision until one of the witches, Stormy, asks her to unlock her mother’s tablet and promptly calls Zenith like it isn’t a big deal.
Not that she wouldn’t have joined, of course, but -
These witches are genuine, do not care to lie, and given that - well, she’d be stupid not to join forces with them. At least for the moment - their goals align.
And maybe their fairies can - help. If a fairy can use witch magic -
Maybe Aisha doesn’t have to be chained to Andros for the rest of eternity.
She’s still shuddering from leaving Andros’ orbit, feeling the weight of her planet slough off her shoulders and her connection to it stretch and fray to a thin point. She won’t be able to discard her connection to Andros, but for the first time she feels free, or at least as close to it as it’s possible for her to be.
And the Magix Council is largely responsible. If not for them - Aisha would not have been so desperately needed by Andros.
Her kin’s inglorious fall is on their heads. She’s not displacing the blame, because the Magix Council may have suggested but it had been her ancestors who had acted. She’d kill her ancestors too, if she had the chance.
The Magix Council just so happens to be breathing, currently. They’ll make a suitable replacement.
“The problem with our plan was always Andros’ subjugation to the Council.” Aisha says eventually. The witches are quiet. Mother hums softly, electronic static, but does not speak either.
“We could kill our parents and reform the government, but that would only last until the Council next had reason to speak with us in our parents’ place. I doubt we are the first royal blood to try and gain independence, though we have no records of any prior attempt to do so.”
a lack of proper records seem to be their calling card, Mother says, voice soft and electronic and - still cold enough to chill even Aisha.
“I always assumed they would try to assassinate me. I never thought all of Andros would pay the cost.” She muses - more idle than she perhaps should be, but - Aisha would pay more than a planet as price of her autonomy, if she were forced to choose.
It’s - hard. To realize that every nightmare scenario she has spent her life considering will not come to pass. Not with these witches, not with Mother, not with their fairies - not with allies.
your arrival will be catalyst. all will be ready. it will be our first move.
“I would hope rescuing the pixies and the boys isn’t the end-all-be-all of your opening salvo.” Icy says sharply. Mother hums in response, a slow, lazy kind of consideration fit for a predator.
we have prepared our evidence, a statement, and allies. all will move in concert.
Mother does not elaborate, and the witches do not ask her to.
Aisha finds she does not mind; and so she doesn’t, either.
X
Their ETA is hours - even in a royal-class ship, Andros is far the fuck out of the way - which means this is the second long-as-fuck space ride they’ve been in in a fairly short amount of time - three if they were to count the whole prison thing as one - so Stormy is intolerable.
Icy is too anxious over reuniting with Bloom to deal with Stormy. This leaves Darcy in the back of a ship with her increasingly hyperactive and bitchy sister and a blind fairy seething with bloodlust, both of them radiating such intense emotion that Darcy has a headache and they’ve only just hung up on Mother.
She takes the tablet they’d called Mother on - mostly loaded with really shitty Androsian romance books; Aisha had said it’d belonged to her own mother - and loads up Stormy’s favorite app game, before hurtling it at her sister’s head.
The trip to Domino hadn’t been half bad, only because there’d been a shit ton of people. This time - if Stormy doesn’t have something to distract herself, she’ll start poking, and if she disturbs Soon-To-Be-Dead-Guy Icy will flip shit, and if she disturbs the Murder Fairy, Darcy’s not sure they’ll survive, Literal God on their side or not.
“Darcy - “
“Stormy, shut up and play your game. If you start something, we’ll all fucking die, and Icy will never let us forget it.” She’s a little sharper than she should be, but -
Stormy frowns at her, some of her energy fading, but she does nod and does take a seat between Darcy and the fairy.
And isn’t that - well. It isn’t really a surprise. Or, it shouldn’t be - to find another fairy so dissatisfied with her lot in life, with her position. Andros is isolated as all hells, but - Darcy is empathizing a little too much for her own comfort. Emotions are her whole thing and she never considered that a fairy would have to suffer the same kind of agonies a witch does merely for her magic.
“How do you think Selina’s doing? It’s been like. Fucking ages since we last saw her, right?” Stormy bursts out. Icy looks away from the navigation system, and shrugs at them.
“If she hasn’t figured it out by the time we see her again, I will eat my heels.” Icy’s being deliberately vague, Darcy thinks. Caution is a new look on her elder sister; odd, given the circumstances - they’ve already admitted to worse crimes in front of Princess Aisha - but Darcy is inclined to go along with it.
“Do you think we’ll have time to pick up some of our clothes?” She asks idly. They are, after all, still in the same outfits they were captured in - augmented only with prison outfits during their capture.
“The pixies have some of our stuff.” Icy says.
“Oh, the pixies - “
“Musa stole your jeans, I don’t even want to hear it - “
“Are you always like this?” The fairy asks. Darcy can’t quite pick up on the girl’s tone - probably for the better. If it weren’t for the Dragon Flame, she’d be magically exhausted by now. No need to strain herself, especially if they’re breaking into Magix and then fleeing.
“Stormy, play your game. Yes.” She points a finger at her sister when Stormy opens her mouth, and - thank magic itself, Stormy backs down. Grumbles as she shuffles over to a clear section of floor.
“What are you playing?” The fairy asks, head tilted, an odd expression on her face.
“Magic Dance. If anybody’s beaten my score, I’m going to be pissed.”
The fairy perks up, interest sharp and sudden and just as intense as her bloodlust.
Darcy does her best impression of a prey animal, and slowly begins slinking away.
“What server do you play on?”
“MC-8, why? Do you play?”
There’s only enough room for two-and-a-half people in the cockpit. Icy is courteous enough to wait until Darcy joins her before pointedly sealing the archway leading into it with ice.
“This is going to be a long fucking flight.” Darcy says, as the fairy’s voice gets louder and less distinct. Stormy’s voice is also raised, also fuzzed out with the ice between them - if only it muted the rising flood of competitiveness-challenge-rage-disbelief coming from the two of them.
“What are the fucking chances.” Icy mutters, and turns to glare out the front window.
Darcy makes the executive decision to take a nap.
“Wake me when we get close.”