Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun had set about an hour ago, its rays hidden now by the forest that surrounded the wooden cabin. The lights inside were bright from the crackling fire close by and a lantern hanging from the hallway ceiling. A man, dressed in a white blouse and dark trousers collected the plates from the table, setting them into the wash basin he had placed on the counter. He collected a couple more, setting them aside as well. He soon picked up a towel, after finishing up washing, when a clatter in the hallway caught his attention. Pinocchio looked over, seeing one of the windows open on the far side of the room and a cold breeze wafted through the room. Abandoning the dishes he moved to close it, ensuring it was shut tight before stepping away. A knock sounded on the door outside, Pinocchio looking over at the cuckoo clock hanging close by to check the time. They were a little earlier than expected. Still, that didn’t hinder the woodcarver from walking over and opening it.

Standing outside stood a boy looking up at him with a sheepish look on his face. Immediately a smile spread across Pinocchio's face.

“Your highness! Come in.” He immediately stepped aside to let the prince in.

“Right umm.. Thanks. And thanks for having me, again.” Henry murmured as he walked inside.

The boy had no armour on, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers. Pinocchio felt a weight lift off of his shoulders on seeing the woollen cloak thrown over Henry's; his only shield against the late evening chill. The snowfall from the previous day didn’t help much with the cold either.

The armed guard stood silently outside his house, as they usually would, but even with the added protection he could see the scabbard attached to Henry’s belt as he walked further inside. Despite the long strides the prince carried himself with, he seemed much younger right now than he did when clad in golden armour and serious expression. His arm was wrapped over the other as he looked around the room, and he hadn't spoken since the greeting. He took his cloak off without a thought and hung it onto the coat stand beside the door. Once upon a time he would have considered that to be somewhat abnormal, but over the last couple of months it had become a bit of a norm.

“Think nothing of it, Henry, go ahead and sit. I’m just cleaning up.” Pinocchio commented, shutting the door behind him. He led the teen through the house, offering him a seat at the table. He took the two plates he had previously left there, placing them into the tub of water he had set by the counter. There was a cauldron hanging over a fire pit relatively close by, the heat radiating from it from the glowing embers in it. He glanced over and grabbed a rag, which he carefully wrapped around the handle of the lid and lifted it up. A grin spread across his face as he looked at the water within. It wasn't boiling yet, but the rising heat and quiet fizzles forming was enough to leave him satisfied.

“Is your… partner around?” he heard Henry ask.

Pinocchio placed the cover back over the pot and shook his head. “No, he’s out like every dies Solis.”

“Ah, alright.”

A hush fell over them once more as Pinocchio turned back to the dishes he had been previously drying. The only noise that interrupted the lull was the crackling fire. Movement in one corner caught his eye, spotting the long-haired tuxedo stretching out of his little bed with a yawn. Figaro gave a quiet meow as he stood up, the large, fluffy feline making his way over and rubbing his head against the legs of the woodcarver. Pinocchio smiled, watching how the cat’s attention was immediately diverged at the subtle calling noises from Henry, and he ambled over to the prince. Pinocchio looked up and sighed quietly, as he turned back to the dishes.

“How have things been at the palace?” he asked as he picked one up along with a clean towel.

“Well, you kinda already know, you were there for the last meeting,” Henry commented, an irritated sigh making the woodcarver look over at him curiously, “It hasn’t changed since then. The Blue Fairy has sort of taken charge alongside Lancelot a little.”

Pinocchio’s brows creased sympathetically as he returned his attention to cleaning. “Your time will come, Henry. They’re only trying to help.”

“And since when was a fairy taught to rule?”

“Maybe you should ask her that.”

“I did!” he heard the boy call out while he stacked the plates. “She didn’t give me an answer and just changed the topic.”

Pinocchio could only hum in response to that. He knew very well how exasperating that could be. He hadn’t forgotten the questions he had laid out for Blue when he was younger. Back then he just considered that they were probably silly questions with obvious answers she didn’t wish to give to him. Answers he thought he should know the answer to, even though he didn’t.

But time had since gone by, and he had soon learned that it wasn’t his questions that were silly, but her simply not having the answer she would want to give him.

“And how are… you?”

Pinocchio glanced up from his thoughts at Henry’s sudden question, seeing the young charge with the cat by his lap. A smile pulled on his face as Figaro made himself comfortable next to the boy, paws gently kneading at Henry’s trouser leg.

“I’ve been well, thankfully,” Pinocchio commented as he turned back to finish the dishes, “Even if not booming, business has been moving. Not to mention having Lampwick back from his trip has brought some life back into the house.” He heard the tuxedo give a quiet mrrp at the mention of his partner. He wasn’t the only one that missed having that rascal around. “I’d say despite the previous circumstances, all is well.”

“Mhm,” he heard Henry hum, “When you mention those previous circumstances, do you-” he huffed out a laugh, “Forgive me, I asked this last time as well-”

“It’s no trouble Henry, I can understand,” Pinocchio interjected as he pulled a tray closer, “Though I’m sorry to say I don’t really know. It’s not easy to find out what’s happened in that world and how she’s doing there now. Much less if she’d ever return.”

He watched the boy’s shoulders sag, sympathy clouding his own gaze. It wasn’t easy to watch him like this, knowing there wasn’t really a lot he could do.

It had taken a good lot of convincing that what had occurred, that Princess Emma’s supposed kidnapping, had none but been a farce. The ‘Evil Queen’ that had taken his mother and killed his grandparents as well as, supposedly, his young uncle, wasn’t the same as the one that had been banished from this land, but instead came from a land where the two of them had become friends by this period of time. And yet, the news of Princess Emma’s absence and the fear of the Queen’s wrath returning had struck the kingdoms greatly, Hochwasser especially, and the news had circled around for weeks. It was only now that it had started to, for the most part, calm down. He wasn’t sure what story the council had been throwing around in their attempts to bring back order, but he didn’t dwell much on it. And it wasn’t necessary right now either, what with who was sitting down in front of him. While he wished he could give him some better news than the usual, he really didn’t have anything else he could say to him.

“All we can really do is hold out hope,” he mused, as he placed a smaller wooden plate on the counter. He heard a fist crash against the table, cringing at the sound. Startled by the noise, Figaro had jumped off as well, weaving around his feet and away from the tension.

“What kind of hope is that, though?! What’s the point of hope if it achieves nothing?” Henry exclaimed.

“Well that's it, isn't it? You can’t always know for sure if what you hope for can happen.”

“Well… I wish I could. Might make things a lot easier.”

“Ah, but easy doesn’t always mean good, Henry,” Pinocchio pointed out as he looked over. The prince huffed, pouting all the while, as the wood-carver turned back to the counter. He picked out a few of the cookies he had brought out of the tray, and laid them on the plate. His quiet gaze remained as he carried it over, Figaro meowing while dancing around his feet, and he offered Henry a smile as he spoke: “Have faith, your time is soon to come.”

Henry looked over at the plate, his eyes widening. “Oh uh… thanks.” he murmured, as he took one of the biscuits. His gaze wandered around the room, Pinocchio watching him curiously after sitting himself down. There was a cuckoo clock by the door, whose pendulum swung from side to side. He could see the couple of shelves lining the wall, where a few wooden dolls and puppets were stacked. A few of those being his late father’s masterpieces but some even done by his own hand, though much younger at the time. He considered storing some of those away, withholding the need to grimace as he pictured the errors on them that he knew were there, even just by looking at them from a distance. On the right he could see the staircase leading upstairs and beneath it a chest of drawers. He could see a couple of unlit candles sitting on top of the cabinet as well as a few rolled up parchments and quills that didn’t fit inside the cabinet itself. The hanger stood between it and the door, with his father’s coat as well as Henry’s cloak right now hanging from it.

On the opposite side of the room he could see the wooden workbench poking out from around the corner. Even if he couldn’t see it, he knew there were still various tools laid strewn about on it. He had attempted to clean up earlier before the prince’s arrival but had been moderately successful in that regard, knowing that he left a lot of the tools and the trinkets he was carving out for his recent commissions were still lying in a disorganised state on the desk. …at least it was empty of wood shavings so that was a plus.

“Are you working on something right now?” Henry’s question had him turning back to the table, where the prince was holding another cookie. He nodded quietly.

“Yes. I do have a commission I’m working on right now. You might have noticed it when you first came in.”

“Could I see it again now? Please?”

“Of course!” Pinocchio grinned as he stood up and moved away from the table. He stopped in front of his workbench, upon which was a small, grandfather’s clock. It wasn’t polished and there was a section that was still in the process of being whittled into shape, but the curving waves that shaped the body of the clock even now greatly pleased the woodcarver. “It’s almost complete, just needs some final touches.” he explained, watching as Henry approached it, almost mesmerised by the fish carvings on the head of the clock. He couldn’t help but feel a small ounce of pride as he witnessed the prince’s awe. It was hardly comparable to what his father had done in the past, but maybe he was starting to reach that path Geppetto once walked on. His fate was changing once more.

“Hey, I was wondering,” he started, making Henry look up from his admirement, “I’m heading out into the forest tomorrow afternoon. Would you perhaps like to join me? Step away from all of the chaos for a little while.”

“Oh that sounds great but umm… Lancelot promised me a lesson on jousting tomorrow,” the teen explained, albeit sheepishly.

“Ah, of course.” Pinocchio nodded. Despite the grievances Henry had with the individuals on the council right now, Pinocchio knew how much he enjoyed training with Lancelot. And the knight, even with his greying hairs and age, was as spritely as ever. Even if a lot of Henry’s more intense training was now done with younger knights, Lancelot still had the energy to keep up with most of the prince’s training. Especially when it involved horseback. Jousting tournaments and mounted spars were just a couple of Henry's favourite activities with his mentor, alongside leisurely rides out in the wilderness. He looked up to the knight a lot, and Pinocchio was glad that he had someone else looking out for him right now. Someone outside of offering him evenings full of chatting, cakes or tea.

As though on cue, he heard the lid shake over the pot, the man swiftly walking over to the cauldron and taking it off of the pit. He looked over at the prince and nodded to the pot he was holding. “Care for some tea?”

The prince smiled with a “yes please”, as he walked over. They settled back at the table, as Pinocchio poured them both a mug, enjoying the rest of the evening and passing the time with quiet chats and, occasionally, laughter.

It wasn’t until the clock struck past eight did Pinocchio bid the prince goodbye, watching after as he and his escorts disappeared into the night. He looked up at the sky, a couple of snowflakes falling on his face and hands, watching them pick up. He hoped albeit foolishly even, as he walked back inside the house, that Henry would get home sooner than the blizzard would set in. And he was sure it would, as he shut the door. No one needed to be caught in such a thing and he wouldn’t wish that on any poor soul out so late in the night.

— Several days ago —

He wasn’t sure how long he had been running for. Seconds? Minutes? Gods, even hours it felt like. The winding streets of the town seemed longer and more twisted than ever. That was hardly helped by the ever looming fact that he had no choice but to scour and hide in the shadows of the alleyways, out of sight of those that passed with their torches and clanks of steel armour. It was made all the more worse by the blizzard that had struck down tonight of all times. And he knew at this time in the year, this wouldn’t be the last just yet.

Gods, of all the times they could have decided to have it snow so heavily why now? Couldn’t it have waited until tomorrow?

Looking out, the man squinted at the stables across from where he stood. He turned, seeing the gates just up ahead as well. Just a few houses away from him.

Freedom.

Salvation.

The warning.

He was so close.

He turned, briskly moving forward, his foot catching on something and making him trip. The man glared down at the various array of small items, kicking the culprit. The offending object - a small instrument half covered by a fraying blanket - now lay broken on the ground.A brief flash of guilt moved across his gaze, but he darted away towards the stables before he could further think about it. He hastily grabbed a saddle, running to the first stall. Hearing footsteps up ahead had him gritting his teeth as he fiddled with the saddle’s straps, but on making sure that was secure he threw the door open and led the horse out.

Shouts of protest sounded the moment he mounted the steed but the man was already up and riding out, kicking down every shovel rake or obstacle he could reach for. He urged the horse forward into the storm, hearing it chuff as they galloped down the streets, passing the iron gates right as they fell over the bridge behind them. Still, the danger had yet to pass, and he knew the king’s knights would be on his tail soon enough. With dogs… gods above he hoped they’d somehow forget the dogs.

He reached a simple, wooden suspension bridge, eyes alight with hopeful malice as he slowed the steed down and led it across. Taking the first step onto the worn boards, he silently prayed that it would hold. The bridge however, even if older (he was sure of that) and held by rope, remained sturdy.

He couldn’t help but wonder…

On the other side he dropped the reins, grabbing the dagger attached to his side and rushed back to begin sawing at the rope. He could hear the dogs from far beyond, his breaths growing quicker as he worked through the second rope. His hand shook and the cold nipped at them as he continued to saw, grinding his teeth together.

Hold fast, gods give me strength to hold out.

The noise had gotten louder as he worked through the third, the individual casting a quick glance across the bridge, just in time to see the group draw towards it. His work hastened as he grabbed the fourth rope and began to cut, hearing the men’s shouting growing all the more louder.

Faster. Faster, he needed to work faster.

He could feel the rope bridge quiver under the weight of someone running across it, his hands shaking as he heard them draw closer. But as though the gods heard his silent pleas, the rope began to tear under the weight. It yanked out of his hold as another knight boarded the bridge, the severed ropes dropping towards the valley below, the knights hurtling down with a yell.

The man panted, wiping his palms across the grass as he watched the rest shout on the other side. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping from the thrill, but there was little time to rest and recover. He scrambled to his feet and ran back to the horse, jumping on and riding off and away.

He knew where to go and he knew which kingdom he was aiming for. If he could just get there in the next few days maybe it’ll still be soon enough to warn them.

Working late into the night meant he had slept in until the later hours of the morning, yet fallen asleep early enough to miss his partner's return. When he woke, however, Pinocchio found himself not staring at Lampwick, still peacefully dozing. A pout fell over his expression at his partner’s absence while he looked over at the end of the bed, seeing Figaro gone as well. Pinocchio puzzled silently, until he heard a clatter down the hall. With a sigh he rolled over, eyes shutting as he smiled softly. He considered sparing another minute resting, until he heard further noise and a loud exclamation of his cat’s name, which had him rapidly sitting up and moving across the room. Right, yeah, no rest for him if the house has decided to get active at this time in the morning. Gods know what state he’d find the place in if he left them unsupervised.

“Figaro, don’t even think about it!!” A voice called from downstairs.

Pinocchio chuckled as he changed, shuffling out of the room as the sound of chaos coming from downstairs started to wither away. A quiet whinny interrupted his journey as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He looked over and opened the top half of the half door, tall ears catching his attention the moment he did. The small silver pony on the other side gave him a light snort in greeting and he patted it on the head. As another clatter caught his attention, he turned around.

In the kitchen, just across from where he was standing, he spied a man with dark, messy ginger hair draped over his shoulders working to pick up the utensil he dropped. He was wearing a crumpled tunic to go along with dark-clad trousers, most likely the same ‘fit from last night as well.

Close by, Figaro was doing all he could to make the task of retrieving the fallen knife especially difficult. He was sitting up on the table and knocking items down, but the moment Lampwick had bent down to grab it he jumped up on his shoulders and started rubbing his head against the crook of the man's head, settling on his back and shoulder like a furry, one sided shawl.

Pinocchio withheld a laugh at the sight, seeing his partner resign to his fate. He turned back to the side door and gave the pony one last pet before shutting it. The sound was loud enough to interrupt the shenanigans in the kitchen, Lampwick straining to look up from under the purring cat. The woodcarver grinned as he approached with his arms folded over his chest.

“You’re up early,” he mused. The cat looked over with a chirp and hopped down, ambling over and weaving between his legs. He did his best to avoid the cat’s shorter paws with moderate success as he continued his off-beat dance around the cat. He quickly swooped down to pick the cat up, feeling him settle down quickly.

The taller man chuckled as he straightened up and dropped the knife back on the counter. “What did you expect? Lazing around ‘til mid-afternoon?”

“Something like that.” Pinocchio chuckled to which Lampwick only responded with a huff. He knocked his head against Pinocchio’s the moment he approached, Figaro taking the chance to bap at the necklace hanging from the taller man’s neck.

“Well, guess you weren’t expecting breakfast made for you either.” Lampwick smirked as he grabbed the empty bowl and ladle, “And if that’s th’ case-”

“Oh come on, no need to get hasty with that,” Pinocchio grabbed the hem of Lampwick’s tunic as he started moving away and pulled him back. He smirked up at him as he let the other go, taking the bowl and ladle and dumped the feline into Lampwick’s arms.

He rolled his eyes as Lampwick chuckled, only chancing a small glance from the pot he was standing at as Lampwick placed the tom down on the floor before moving to the bench.

“How’s our little prince?” Lampwick asked.

Pinocchio shrugged, stirring the contents of the cauldron and quietly humming thoughtfully under his breath, “Brooding.”

His attention never left the bowl he was filling, hearing Lampwick scoff a little ways away from him.

“Nothing new then.”

The woodcarver sighed as he covered the soup back up, placing the ladle into the wash bucket.

“Well with both parents gone, as well as his grandparents, it’s within reason. Not to mention someone else ruling the kingdom in his place he’s… antsy.” he shrugged again, placing the bowl on the table. “Can’t say Blue’s relentless attitude is of much help either.”

“Oh typical.” Lampwick huffed as he pulled out his pipe and matches. “You think she’s gonna learn t’ mind her own business eventually? Wasn’t she th’ one that had an issue with Nova getting involved with Grumpy all those years ago? Why is she getting involved in our affairs?”

“Hard to say.” Pinocchio hummed, ignoring the pout as he reached out and took the man’s pipe. “Guess she’ll be sticking around to help out until Henry’s old enough to rule.”

He paid no mind as Lampwick let out a noise of indignation from behind, the moment he dipped the pipe into the wash bucket and extinguished it.

“Isn’t he already old enough?” he heard him call out again, “What is he? 16? Pretty sure that’s enough to jump up and start ordering shit around.”

“He’s 14,” Pinocchio corrected, hearing the chair scrape across the floor as he worked to clean the pipe, “And not according to the rest of the council.”

“Gods he's not a mere babe!” Lampwick exclaimed, his voice growing closer. Suddenly the woodcarver found himself being pulled back by an arm around his waist, and from the corner of his peripheral Lampwick stood, smirking with his chin on his shoulder. “Someone should tell him that if he wants to take charge then he should do so already. ‘M sure they’d love to listen to their prince more than some fairy pretending to play regent.” the red-head continued, carefully reaching around Pinocchio to get his hands on the pipe, relentless even as Pinocchio pulled it further away with an amused grin of his own.

The woodcarver rolled his eyes.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing you weren’t here last night. You’d make a terrible influence on our future king.”

“I, for one, think I’m a brilliant influence, my darling doll,” he quipped while still reaching out for the pipe. “And who’s to say a woodcarver knows anything ‘bout regency as well anyway?”

“I don’t. I just know what it means to wait until due time.” Pinocchio hummed as he continued to hold the pipe out of reach. Lampwick only tutted, yet still held on to the woodcarver as he swayed them from side to side.

“Are you going to let me eat now?” Pinocchio chuckled, “Or do you plan on waltzing me across the room as well before you let me go? I still have one part of that commission to finish, but I’d also like to get a breather in the woods before nightfall. I don’t think I can do that with you hanging on.”

“Well maybe this is your calling to drop by the inn tonight instead,” the red-head murmured, earning a bemused chuckle from his partner.

“Not on your life.” Pinocchio huffed, reaching up and gently patting the other on the cheek. Lampwick grabbed the offending hand and held it, grinning mischievously before swooping down and planting a kiss on the other’s nose. Before he could react, the pipe from Pinocchio’s hand was gone and Lampwick had already bounced back and was heading towards the door.

“Aight, I’ll leave you t’ it then. And while you do that,” Lampwick grabbed the cap from the stand and fixed it on his head, “I’m gonna see what Eugene’s up to.”

“Didn’t see enough of him last night?” Pinocchio mused as he moved back to sit at the table.

The redhead scoffed as he pulled on his jacket. “That block head? Like hell I saw enough of ‘im, when he spent more time staring at his cards or with his back to me at the bar rather than conversing.”

Pinocchio laughed breathily. “Alright then, have fun. Sending him my well-wishes.”

Lampwick opened the door, grinning back at the carver with a cheeky grin, “I’ll give him your worst wishes too, just t’ see how he takes it.” With that, the door closed shut, leaving behind nothing but the sound of quiet.

A call for a new round of drinks was shouted from across the tavern, Lampwick paying little mind to it. With his feet kicked up on the bench beside him and his cap sitting on the table next to an empty glass, his attention was only on the cards in front of him, amidst the smokeless pipe he held between his teeth. In his hand, he held a 10th and 5th of spades, queen of hearts, and 7th of diamonds. There was an ace of clubs placed down in the centre. His lip twitched up into a snarl as he eyed the pile and the single card his opponent had. This was their… goodness knows which round they were playing now, it was hard to say, but what he did know was that since then, he’d lost more times than won. He huffed as he leaned further back into his chair, hanging his arm limply over the back of it. A shift in his lap had him looking down at the pony resting his head on it, having roused from its doze.

“Giving up yet?”

Lampwick looked up, watching the man across him lazily rapping his fingers on the table. He ruffled his shaggy, brown hair, the man pulling his bangs back as he watched Lampwick with an arch of his brows. Lampwick held back from biting harder down on the bit of his pipe, pulling out another from the hearts set… Only to watch as Eugene smirked, placing down his final card onto the table.

Fuck this.

Lampwick grunted, taking the pipe out of his mouth as he chucked his meagre deck onto the table. “Wasn’ planning on winning anyway,” he muttered.

“Sure you weren’t. Keep telling yourself that, Wicker.”

Lampwick scoffed and kicked his feet off of the bench before gathering up the cards as Eugene made his way back to the bar. The table cleaned, he grabbed his glass and trudged over to his friend’s side, sliding it over towards the bartender. He couldn’t help but glance at the clock, his frown deepening at the sight of the time. He didn’t even remember when it turned past midday, and yet here they were now. He pondered over grabbing some quick food, but a snort at his side had him consider otherwise.

“You wanna-” he held up the pipe, and nodded to the door. Eugene gave him a shrug.

“Could just do that inside like you were a while back.”

“Eh. Someone’s getting needy about stretching their legs.” he joked, jolting as Iskra butts her head against his thigh. He shrugged, stepping away from the bar as he made his way to the door instead. He heard Eugene sigh behind him, yet the man followed without any further protest.

The air outside was refreshing as he pulled out a match and worked to light the pipe. The streets bustled with activity, Lampwick spotting a couple of kids just feets away from where he was, playing in the bank of snow. Iskra was immediately on the case, hopping in joy with the kids; kicking snow up and prancing around them as though she was a newborn foal. Typical.

Ways from them, he saw a couple of women conversing, their voices were muffled but he could just about catch their laughter. A man walked by with a young boy in tow, discussing something to do with… finance keeping or whatever bullshit. The red-head’s shoulders relaxed as he took in the scenery from where he was standing by the inn, pondering in silence as he toyed with the silver ring on his middle left finger.

A sudden shriek had him whipping his head around, seeing a mare bolt her way through the square. Iskra jumped into action and grabbed the reins of the frightened animal in her teeth. A bright spattering of red upon the startled horse’s pale coat caught Lampwick’s eye, but before he could get a better look, a shout reached his ears. Before he can turn to register it, the source of which barreled into him, practically shoving him against the wall he was attempting to use to steady himself.

“Hey! Watch it-!”

“Please! Please, there’s not much time.” the man interrupted Eugene, clinging to Lampwick’s jacket. Dark eyes looked up at him beneath pale and messy hair, teeth gritted. The hand that gripped at his coat was equally spattered with blood which was now dry.

“What the hell, get off!” Lampwick glared, grabbing the stranger’s hands and yanking him off. The stranger stumbled and fell into the streets at the feet of a startled couple, but was quick to scramble upright again. The chaos continued as he drew more attention from onlookers with his eyes wide and laboured breaths.

“Listen to me!! Listen, you’re-you’re all in danger! We’re all in great peril!” the man called out, reaching out to every person he could, not caring if they pulled back. “A-a great evil sits on the throne of the high kingdom and has set his sights on us all! None are safe, you’re not safe!! Run, hide- take your children and run-”

“Alright, okay, that’s enough of that!” Lampwick hissed as he pulled the man back, gaze setting on the whispers that were now urgently rising in volume around them. “Calm down you lot, it’s just a ruse!”

“It’s the truth!” the stranger insisted, his eyes widening as he gripped at the red-head’s shoulder. “You have to believe me it’s true!”

Despite Lampwick’s insistence, several onlookers began muttering to each other in hushed discontent, clearly unnerved by the stranger’s agitating statements. Some were clearly sceptical, but others exchanged looks of horror and uncertainty as a crowd gathered around the doomsayer.

“What do we do?” one asked.

“We just had to deal with the royal kidnapping, are we really at the brink of war?”

“Enough!” boomed a voice from behind as Eugene pushed his way through the gathering groups. “Gods, above, it’s like all sense is gone on the first note of panic. There is no war anywhere near Hochwasser! Guards, see to the crowd. And get this guy to the council-”

“Eugene, leave that to me. I’ll deal with ‘im.”

Eugene huffed, already turning away as Lampwick grabbed the stranger by the shoulder and pulled him to where Iskra still stood with the other mare. “If you say so.”

“Jus’-” he jumped up into the saddle, pulling the man up with him, “let Pinocchio know where I am once he’s back, yeah? He should be returning soon.”

As Iskra tossed the reins up to him he urged the steed forward, jogging it down the trail and out of the village. He knew it wouldn’t take too long for him to reach the palace, Collodi residing a few hours' ride from it. He only hoped that certain individuals wouldn’t make the journey become a worthless endeavour.

A family of robins sat in the tree above Pinocchio, the group chirping merrily as he passed their perch. He looked up at them and smiled, one of them fluttering its wings down at him before swooping over. It perched on his shoulder as he moved onwards, singing its little song in tune with his humming as he moved through the forest.

It was good to be out here again. Especially after working non-stop until now. Of course, he’d take breaks and occasionally make his way out between the tasks, but that was made especially difficult during the winter months. Even moreso with the endless blizzards. Last night had been the third one that week, the second having happened the night before. He could only take the cosiness of the inside for so long, before the itch to walk outside took over. He was glad that it had ceased today, and the weather remained still even after he had finished that commission. He still needed to apply the varnish, however the time’s chimes as well as the calm weather had left him antsy enough to leave the house and finish up the final touches either once he came back or tomorrow.

He had little to no regret over his choice of action, trudging onwards through the thick layers of snow. The winter air chilled his breath with each exhale, and the cold, even under his gloves, nipped at his fingers. A breeze had him pulling his cloak up, the robin tweeting as it fluttered up from his shoulder to the top of his hat. The mountains were always so serene to walk through at any given time of the year, and the beauty they held was immeasurable. Not far from here was a glade he had discovered with his father all too long ago and had made it his personal space to visit. It wasn’t anything too big, the clearing surrounded by birch trees, with a couple of aspens scattered amongst them. One of those sitting off-centre in the clearing. During the summer he would sit in the grass with his back against it and either sketch the flowers that grew around the clearing or whittle into a block of wood, carving out small figurines he could either sell later, gift, or keep at home depending how they looked. In winter there was, since rather recently, a fallen log he could recline on and simply… exist for a while. This was something Pinocchio found himself doing even now as he stared up at the looming trees above him.

The grey clouds behind the bare branches clung to the sky they were part of as they shifted across in miniscule inches. Pinocchio pondered if there would be more snowfall later in the day. He wouldn’t be surprised if it did. Though given how light in colour they were, he reckoned that it wouldn’t be all that soon. So for now he could enjoy the sereness with no interruption, along with the winter songbirds that still stuck around. The robin from before joined him soon enough with a couple of companions, perching themselves on his lap and shoulders. He thought back to the times when his father was busy and he’d spend a day or so with the royals, going on walks with Queen Snow and later her with a young Princess Emma. The birds and animals overall were something he and the queen bonded over really, Snow often showing him and teaching him about the wildlife that surrounded them. The doves that would perch on them at times. She tried to teach him how to sing to them once but that didn’t really work too much at the time. He used to prefer whistling like Jiminy had taught him. It was only now that he tried again, and even then it wasn’t something he would always do. Still; those were some of his memorable moments with them. Outside of the gifts he tried to make for them. Gods, were those still there? Or were they put away, if not thrown out, after Henry and young Neal were no longer interested?

He thought back to the conversation he had with Henry from last night as his thoughts drifted to the young prince as well, a frown settling on his lips. He knew he was out with his mentor today but, like most days, he hoped the teen was okay. Like most of the kingdom, the disappearances of Princess Emma and Neal and deaths of Snow and David had been a difficult toll to take. But he knew the hardest to be hit with it would be the current young heir. What with a father long gone and now his mother…

He sighed, running a hand down his face as he stood up walking past the log and moving further through the forest.

The sun would start setting soon, he was sure of that, but he figured he had enough time to take a different course on his journey back. It was long and winding, but down towards Collodi it would follow the great river that ran through the forest, making it an easy route to follow and not get lost with.

He could hear the rushing of the river as he drew closer, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he would start making his way downwards. It wasn’t a way he took often, mostly due to the undergrowth that he needed to pay better attention to. The original path was a lot more worn out compared to this, as it would lead to a trial past the mountains, but this route one wouldn’t take all that often, making the chances of tripping a lot more prominent. Despite his caution, however, his foot got caught on an exposed root, making him stumble. The snow, despite its soft look, remained a traitor to his fall, Pinocchio still felt the undergrowth poking at him as he hit the ground.

Maybe taking the long route during this time of the year was a mistake.

He glared back at the tree root he had fallen over when a glint caught his eye from beneath it. His frown deepened, the man pulling himself up to his feet with a huff of annoyance at how soaked his coat and trousers were before moving back over to the root. He could see the metal from under it and as Pinocchio dusted off the layers of snow on top of it, his eyes widened.

A sword?

Pinocchio squinted at the silver object that had caused his tumble. Was that the glint of light he had seen earlier? He kicked the hilt, pushing the sword out from underneath the root and picked it up, gasping at the strange weight he felt on holding it. It didn’t feel… heavy, and yet it felt like if he wasn’t gripping it tightly enough it would drop from his hand. Power. That’s what it was. He felt it around the faerie folk or other magic users as well. Not to the same extent but the feeling remained similar. Hell, he remembered Lampwick once mentioning how he’d often feel an… essence or something even from him once he was made human. Not something intended as offense but more a curious observation; a hint at who he once was, for him. It would explain why the sword wasn’t rusting yet as well. He’d never seen anything like this before but he was certain that it had to have been crafted with some sort of magic.

His gaze drew from the complicated engraving down to the end of the blade, noticing the tip completely missing.

“Hm.”

He tilted the sword, feeling the end of it. The edge felt… mostly smooth. Had it always been like that? Was it polished off? He tilted the sword, squinting up at the end as best as he could. He was hardly an expert on the matter so it wasn’t like he could say anything more. He considered the blacksmith as he carefully tucked the sword between his belt, making sure it was secure before making his way towards the river. He was sure the blacksmith should know something.

Thankfully the trip back contained no further accidents and thankfully he had reached Collodi long before the sun would set. He sighed, glancing over at the inn as he walked passed, noting the figure that was standing idly by the door. He pondered if Lampwick was back at home already or still in there. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was still there really.

“Pinocchio!”

A part of him even considered walking in right now and actually taking up his partner’s offer about the night out today. And yet still, he knew how that would end; three beers in and a whiskey and he’d be wiped out, unable to finish up the commission and waking up the next morning with a splitting headache. And he had no plans to experience that when he was on a time crunch. Not to mention he could feel the coldness of his trousers from his earlier fall into the snow. And as comforting as it would be right now to just step into the warmth of the tavern, he’d much rather just get home.

“Pinocchio!!”

He stilled and glanced behind, seeing the figure running over. “Eugene, hey is everything-”

“You need to get to the palace. Right now!” the man exclaimed, making Pinocchio frown.“Something happened earlier. ‘Wick’s there already and I'm sure your presence may be needed as well.”

‘Because of course it would.’ Pinocchio thought, sighing with a shake of his head. He glanced up at the horizon. The sun had yet to set, but he knew it was only a matter of time before its final rays would disappear. Walking was not an option if he wanted to get there fast enough. He looked to the innkeeper, his mind made up.

“Could I borrow your horse?”

“Should be already saddled up.” Eugene nodded to the stables close by.

Pinocchio gave him an appreciative nod as he jogged back.

As promised, the stallion was already saddled up and ready for departure. He grabbed one of the lanterns as well, strapping it to the saddle for later use before he led the steed out of the stable and into the darkening light.

So much for getting home tonight, was his last thought as he jumped up and urged the horse forward down the road and away from the village.

By the time he had reached the capital, the light had begun to fade, with just enough left for him to be able to squint without a lamp. He quickly led the stranger inside, shouldering past any guard that tried to protest. He wondered if trying to get Pinocchio here was a good idea, given how late it was now, but he had little time to consider that as the council chamber’s doors came into view. What he cared even less about, however, was whatever he might have been interrupting as he barged through the door. In an instance the room fell quiet as he walked in, a few chairs pulling out from under the massive circular table, decorated with crests. The table itself contained twelve seats, with only three being occupied at this moment in time. He eyed the guards behind him already marching over, when Henry spoke up:

“At ease!”

He was the first to stand, from the right-hand side, Lancelot alongside him on his left. The guards gave a silent nod to the prince and walked back to their posts, leaving Lampwick to face the council itself.

The young prince’s seat was one of the three largest in the room, the furthest left remaining vacant, and the centre currently occupied by The Blue Fairy. He admittedly hadn’t stepped into this hall since he was younger and visiting Pinocchio. Geppetto had refused to leave the two of them at home alone. The assurance that Grace would be there didn’t help their case either, so all three of them were forced to sit through some boring meeting. He didn’t remember what the meeting was about but he didn’t count it as a loss. Either way, it wasn’t important, because the one thing he did manage to remember was the seating order.

The Ram crest was in the centre, and he remembered that as Snow White’s seat. On her right was the King’s in front of the bust of a Unicorn. On Snow’s left was once an unoccupied seat, later taken by Emma once she was older. The Dove-crested chair was once more empty now since the princess’ disappearance. He had to admit that seeing the Ram occupied with a fairy that grew smaller and flew out of its seat was rather unnerving. But he couldn’t say for sure if it was because of his own personal feelings against her or not. Seeing the prince still standing at the table almost scowling however, he figured the feeling was, in some parts, mutual.

Blue herself didn’t seem pleased either (most likely by his arrival), as she grew in size once more and stormed over. “You have no right to be here-”

“Oh sod off, Blue! I don’t give two shits where you think I should be right now!” Lampwick snapped at the fairy, and shoved the man forward. “This guy’s been spreading mass panic throughout Collodi. Maybe instead of sitting around you could do something about it!”

The fairy’s eyes narrowed, looking down at the stranger that was picking himself off of the floor he had fallen to. “Like what?”

He stood up, his stance shaking as his eyes met hers. “I seek aid! I seek aid against a kingdom I was forced to flee from. And the wars it waged against others.”

“What wars are you talking about?” she asked.

“I am Taliesin,” he bowed, “I-I worked inside the palace as the king of Camelot’s royal bard. And both myself and my colleagues have heard many terrible things.” “Plans, talks of infiltrations, invasions, and takeovers led at the hands of her king. M-most of the Northern kingdoms have been claimed already, and Camelot intends to lay claim on Royaume de Rose next.”

“That’s impossible though,” Lancelot spoke up. “We’ve all been at peace with Camelot for years. Aurora when the kingdom had woken… Snow White and David… they had all formed a truce with Arthur after King George was taken care of-”

“See that is where the problem lies now! King Arthur is no longer!” Taliesin cut in.

Lancelot frowned. “What..?”

“Arthur…” the bard’s gaze saddened, “he and his queen had been slain by Mordred.”

“No!”

“Wait, uh.. Who’s Mordred?” Henry asked, glancing up at the still surprised knight.

“One of King Arthur’s great knights. Him and I both sat at the round table together, each at Arthur’s hand. Formally great now, it would seem.” Lancelot sighed. “Though I don’t know what could have caused him to turn on the king like that.” He looked to Lampwick and the bard quizzically, the red-head only offering him a half-hearted shrug.

“I don’t know the story in full, I’m afraid. Only what has happened presently.” Taliesin admitted while taking a step forward. “Camelot isn't what it once was, a lot of its resources are now focused on invasions. With Arthur gone, Excalibur most likely now wielded by the tyrant king and any pleas to the gods, or even Merlin falling on deaf ears. We’re on our own. It’s already expanded its territories closer towards Arendelle, and Misthaven’s kingdoms are next.”

“How exactly-”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Blue cut the prince off, deaf to the indignant huff from him as she watched the bard warily.

Taliesin merely held up a scroll with a smirk. “Lucky for you, I was able to acquire this.” He placed it into Blue’s hand, who unfurled the scroll. Lampwick peeked around, looking at the varied notes on the map. Points and pins most of all. Probably something to do with battle strategy, he’d assume. But the one thing that caught his eye was the coat of arms that was circled not far from where their own stood. The three golden hawks; two small at the top cut off from the third, larger one with a yellow, wavy line to resemble water.

“Huh. Go figure,” he muttered, as the blue fairy shut the scroll once more.

“So why not warn ‘Rose’? Why come to us?” she queried. The scroll levitated in the air to the table.

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed as he watched the man seize up at the question.

“They requested I send word to Hochwasser, in hopes of a stronger force against the siege. Everyone in Misthaven knows the strength your kingdom carries,” Taliesin explained with a huff.

“That was under-”

“There’s no time to waste on further debates,” Blue interjected, remaining blind to the angry glare the prince shot her as he was interrupted. She shrunk once more and flew to the table, calling out loudly: “Guards, escort both Romeo and his companion out of the castle. Show him to the inn if need be.”

Lampwick scowled at the name choice while the guards approached. But before anyone could say or do anything more, the doors were thrown open once more. Striding into the room with his coat swaying behind him, was Pinocchio, his stepped hurried as he reached the centre. Lampwick sighed, abandoning the stranger and shrugging off the guard and marched to his partner’s side. He noted the almost bedraggled look he wore. Not to mention the damp patches on his clothing and dirt??? Was he in that much of a hurry on his way here that he fell off the horse or something? He arched a quizzical brow at him, but Pinocchio only patted his shoulder with a sheepish grin.

“What’s happened?” Pinocchio called out.

“Ah, Pinocchio. Good of you to join us at last.” Lancelot smiled. He gave the guards a curt nod as they closed the door, giving space for Lampwick to approach once more.

“Join you for what, exactly? I received a message that something happened in Collodi and needed to head here? ” he looked to Lampwick for answers, “What’s going on?”

Lancelot spoke up: “Seems one of our allies has turned their power against us. Camelot intends to lay siege on our neighbouring allies, and threatens to lay claim on Hochwasser as well.”

“Shit.” Pinocchio grimaced.

“Indeed yes, young sire.” Taliesin mused as he stepped up to the duo. “This is a troubled time we’re all faced with. And if Mordred continues his… his…” he trailed off, glancing to the man’s side. His mouth parted in silent awe. “Impossible. You. You got it.”

Pinocchio frowned. “I’m… sorry?”

Before he could react, Taliesin grabbed the side of Pinocchio’s coat and flung it back. Distracted in Pinocchio’s attempt to pull it back and step away, Taliesin seized the opportunity to grab the hilt of the sword and pull it out, knocking him against Lampwick. Unphased, Lampwick steadied the man, already reaching for the dagger hidden in his own belt with the other hand. He spotted Lancelot and the prince also grabbing for their weapons, as the bard held the broken sword in the air. His hold relaxed only a touch as he watched the man look around with a smile on his face.

“You had Excalibur. This whole time you had it! You have it in your hold, oh there is still hope!” Taliesin cried.

He what?!

Pinocchio, who he was still holding, gawked. “I-”

“How on earth did you find it?” Blue asked as she flew back down to the centre.

“I just-”

“That doesn’t matter! He must have pulled it out of the stone,” Taliesin cut the wood-carver off as he waved the inquisitive fairy away.

“Here. In our woods.” Lampwick commented as he reached out and snatched the sword back from the bard, handing it back to Pinocchio.

The stranger huffed as he straightened up, turning his nose up to the air. “The sword is a mystery as great as the magic that it wields. It’d be unwise to question its abilities like so.”

Lampwick rolled his eyes at the nonsense the stranger was spilling, seeing his partner looking up at him with equal doubt in his eyes.

Bullshit. This man was full of bullshit and he didn’t understand why everyone was taking any of it at all. Was this guy seriously insinuating that by some miracle Pinocchio had pulled a sword out of the stone? A sword that only a hero chosen by Merlin the Great could obtain? While he trusted the man with his life he was no knight in shining armour. Yes he could craft a bloody magical wardrobe that could take you between worlds or something, but this man refused to even leave the house with a dagger even if his life depended on it. Besides, how would he even accomplish that? How would he obtain a magical sword from a magical stone that was supposed to be in Camelot? A kingdom a good many days away on horseback?

He watched Pinocchio hold tightly onto the hilt, uncertainty swimming in his own gaze as well. With an arm still around him, Lampwick’s grip tightened a touch on the wood-carver’s shoulder.

He couldn’t doubt the power the sword possessed. He knew that kinda magic the object seemed to hold. Even if not to the same extent, he knew he felt it in the past elsewhere. So he was certain the sword held power.

Even so, the idea that he was picked was, frankly, ludicrous. Not to mention picked to fight a war for their kingdom. Looking at Pinocchio as well, he knew the man had come to the same conclusion.

“I-” Taliesin’s laughter however interrupted his thoughts, the hand he had on Pinocchio’s shoulder tightening more. “So many of us thought it to be lost to Mordred yet behold! Here it is, right before us, wielded by one of our own.”

“I’m not-”

“If the sword has picked out a new holder, then there’s still hope,” Taliesin continued, cutting the carver off once more. He looked to him with a grandiose gesture. “You, sir, you could still help us all. You could save Camelot from its tyrant master.”

Lampwick looked to the rest of the council. He noted the almost scrutinising look Blue had, eyeing both the sword and the Wood-carver that was holding it. He had to refrain from stepping in front of him just to keep that beady gaze away from him. So instead he turned to the rest of the table. Lancelot shifted uncomfortably next to the prince who was glaring at the group from where he stood. He always liked the kid personally—had spunk and he could respect that—but right now, the bitterness he seemed to possess wasn’t all that… pleasant to see. Especially knowing who it was directed at.

He should direct it at the guy that started this, actually. That would make this a whole lot better.

Pinocchio sighed in defeat next to him, running a hand down his face. Yet Lampwick couldn’t even think to say anything as the chatter around them started up once more.

This was going to be an interesting few days however.

That was for sure.

In the dark of the night, in a palace far from Hochwasser, heels clicked through the halls, as a man adorned in a yellow, sleeveless overgarment over a pale tunic, marched through a castle. The shirt in question carried a purple coat of arms, with a white chief on the top and double-headed eagle in its purple centre. His strides were firm as he reached a room where two knights were already puzzling over a map and scrolls. Even his approach was not enough to deter the knights from their work, engrossed in the load in front of them. He soon joined their side and heard their mutterings of placements and plans as he looked over the maps himself.

Vast lands, each marked with a pawn carrying its own flag were what he saw in front of him, each scattered around a marked kingdom far larger than any on the map. However, his focus wasn’t drawn to that, but instead on the flag closest to it. A land marked with the symbol of a gold hawk. His shadow cast a silent darkness over it as he toyed with its pawn on the map, a grin sneaking onto his lips.

“If we succeed,” he pondered, catching one of the knight’s gazes, “Camelot will be one step closer to becoming whole.”

Chapter Text

— Several days ago —

The door of the tavern closed to the laughter inside, as the individual threw his hood over his head. The winter winds blew sharply from behind as he darted through the streets, making his way up the hill with a small lantern to light his path. He stumbled as the wind tried to knock him over, yet continued to prevail.

Standing by the stables was another stranger, her hood down and her light, colourful hair reflecting in the light of the lamp the man was carrying as he got close. Next to her, stood a tall, pale-coated stallion with a single horn protruding from its head, the unicorn wearing nothing but a rein and blanket.

The man sighed, a smile hidden under the hood of his cloak as he blew the lamp out, the pitch darkness lasting only for a moment, as the second individual next to him started to grow brighter. She smiled at him, her skin pale and her hair and eyes a bright turquoise beneath the light she was beaming. He helped her mount up onto the steed before she held her hand out to pull him up onto the horse. The light the maiden was radiating dimmed before pulling away, a small orb of light now floating in front of them, lighting the path ahead. He sighed as he placed his head on her shoulders, laying his hands around hers as they steered the steed away from the town they were in, and out into the night in front of them.

“G-guys please this is…” Pinocchio chuckled nervously, “This is all a misunderstanding. I’m no… knight, I can’t-”

“But you shall.” Taliesin interjected.

“But I can’t-”

“But you must!”

It took all of Lampwick’s willpower to not snap at the stranger’s insistence of what Pinocchio should be doing, his blatant ignorance of what the man was saying made him increasingly more annoyed. It was as though all logic had left the room the moment this man had called attention to the sword. Neither the head knight nor prince had said a word since. Not that he could blame either, Lampwick himself was at a loss for words. There was a part of him that wanted to bring up how ridiculous this all was, cut in and interject, let his partner finally get a word in edgewise.

Just as he was about to, the Blue Fairy spoke up:

“If fate had smiled upon you on this day, you’d best heed her call,” she commented.

“Blue-”

But before Pinocchio could say anything more, Blue went on: “I’m not going to question the will of Merlin. Are you, Pinocchio?” Her gaze settled on the man, stern and unrelenting. Lampwick took the chance to look away from her to see his partner, as he stammered next to him.

“I-I—umm…” he clammed up, stiffening next to him.

There was that look. That wide-eyed look, with his jaw slightly parted but no words leaving Pinocchio, as his hesitation trailed off. The council itself was completely silent as though waiting for what he would say. But the man in question was motionless, keeping his gaze only rooted on the fairy.

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed.

He had long since forgotten that look. Maybe due to how long ago it had been since he last saw it. It was with her, it was always with her that he had witnessed it. He never understood what she gained from putting Pinocchio on the spot like this, almost daring him to make the move she believed to be wrong. It made his blood boil.

His hand hadn’t left Pinocchio’s shoulder since the chaos, and he could feel how tense he was getting next to him the longer this was going on. Hell, his knuckles were turning white from how tightly he was gripping onto the sword as well.

Pinocchio’s mouth pursed into a nervous frown, and Blue’s gaze intensified.

Enough of this.

In an instant Lampwick pulled Pinocchio behind him and stared the Blue Fairy down, gaze fierce and glaring. She wanted to try and dare Pinocchio, then he’ll dare back. Take your shot.

A cough caught their attention, looking to where Lancelot was standing still by the table.

“Maybe it’d be best if we adjourn for the night and give everyone a chance to sleep on this matter. No use prolonging this unexpected meeting without everyone else present, wouldn’t you say, Henry?” Lancelot pointed out, turning to the prince at his side.

Henry nodded. “Sure. We can continue in the morning.”

“How about the afternoon instead?” Lampwick proposed. “Sorry but I’m not riding the hell back to Collodi only to turn the fuck around and ride back here hours after. And neither is my betrothed.” He took great care to look at Blue as he stated that, seeing the way her expression scrunched up at the proclamation.

“There’s plenty of bedchambers here that you may borrow for the night if you wish,” Lancelot continued to prompt.

“I mean, I’d quite fancy the-”

“No, you won’t.” Lampwick interrupted the bard and he wrapped a hand around Talisin’s collar, dragging him behind. “You’re staying at the tavern, outside of which you created such a scene today,” He grabbed Pinocchio’s wrist, tugging him along as well as he marched away from the council’s prying eyes. “Anyway, thanks but… no thanks. We’ll be back here in the afternoon. Goodnight,” he called out.

The guards hastily pulled the door open as he got close, the red-head swiftly moving past them, releasing Taliesin once they were out in the hallway. Pinocchio however, he did not let go of; only lessened his hold. It allowed the man to slip his wrist out of his grasp and, instead, interlace his fingers with his own. Lampwick gave his hand a gentle squeeze, hearing the woodcarver breathe out softly.

“So… I’m finally your betrothed, huh?” Pinocchio teased quietly, Lampwick pursing his lips. Oh fuck, yeah he called him that in there. Not that it wasn’t true but realising that that word left him now-

“Don’t get used to it.” he huffed, hearing the other sigh quietly next to him. The man chanced a glance at his partner. The anxiety from before had faded, but the weariness remained. He refused to look up at him as he instead glanced down at the sword, brows furrowed.

“You alright?” Lampwick asked.

“Sure,” was the monotone response he received.

Hm.

He looked up as the arching doorway loomed ahead, the stranger that had started this whole mess walking very much ahead of them, strides much more confident now than they had been before.

The doors opened, Iskra standing next to the horses outside patiently. The moment she spotted them, however, the small creature zipped past the bard and made her way to the couple, hopping around them both. She nudged Pinocchio’s hand pressing up to his side as he petted her nose. His focus, from what Lampwick could tell, wasn’t on his present action; as he stared off into a distance he couldn’t see instead. He looked around himself, seeing the bard hop onto his steed once more and lighting his lantern. Despite the minimal light, the red-head could still see the dark splatter of blood on the horse’s side and he found himself for a moment wondering again what might have brought that about. Still the present situation called out to him more as he once more considered what the stranger had brought up in the council halls.

He sighed, turning away from the horses and the bard with them back to his finacé, nudging his arm. “Wanna talk about what really happened?”

Pinocchio shook his head as he pulled his hand out of the man’s hold, stuffing the sword back into his belt once again. “Just want to get home,” he said as he walked over to the second horse.

Lampwick ran a hand through his hair as he watched his partner light the lantern. “Sounds like a plan,” he huffed, as he followed him. He took it from him as Pinocchio mounted up onto the horse, letting him take it back before jumping up and sitting behind him. The three men, led by one tiny pony and the light of their lanterns rode their way into the night, the waxing crescent lighting their way.

It was dark by the time they saw the lit streets of the town they were approaching. The lack of heavy snowfall tonight made the travel at least a touch easier but a gentle breeze and a calm snow flurry did make the maiden wonder just how long that quiet will last. Still, as they reached the first lantern, the orb she had kept around throughout their journey dissipated. The unicorn stopped outside the tavern, the wooden sign above it swinging to and fro.

The Boiling Mosquito Inn. Who thought that to be a good name she would never know. But she supposed it may hold true to its name here, with the regulars always coming back every day and night for the same brews. As most pubs do.

The man behind her jumped down, holding his hands out to help her down too. As he threw the blanket off of their steed along with their saddlebags, she worked to unfasten the bridle. The moment it was off, the creature stepped back and shook its mane out, giving the pair a quiet snort. The woman smiled, nodding towards the woods, the unicorn turning and running back into the wilderness. With the blanket folded and tucked neatly into their bags, they walked inside, the merry cries of laughter among men and women alike greeting their ears.

She shut the door as her husband walked inside, hearing him shudder. “Stars, it’s good to be here at last! I don’t think I’d have survived another minute out in that cold.”

“Oh I'm sure you’d have made it another day out there, solnyshko.” she mused, as she held her arms out to help with the bags, “It was much worse up in the north.”

“Ah my moonflower, can’t you allow me to wallow in my melancholy just this once?” he sighed. With a tut he lay the bags on her arms with a shake of his head.

Malvina chortled under her breath as Pierrot all but waltzed further into the room. One of the tenders at the bar glanced over curiously, and she gave him a light bow of her head in greeting. The bun she had tied her hair up into, had gotten loose during the trip here, but she didn’t mind it, now that she was inside, even on feeling her red ribbon untie itself from her turquoise locks. With a quick flick of her finger, she had it floating up and draping over her arm. Right as she was about to lighten her load with the bags, however, the innkeeper moved over and offered a helping hand, the maiden giving him a grateful smile.

“A room for a couple of nights, if that would be okay,” she stated, the man giving her a quick nod.

“Taliesin! Well aren’t you a grand sight for weary eyes.” she heard Pierrot call out, the maiden looking over and seeing the bard make his way over.

The bartender was quick to reel her back in with offers on what sort of room she would prefer. Malvina asked them to hold the thought as she moved to her beloved’s side.

“It’s good to see you too, old friend,” Taliesin nodded. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“Ah, merely visiting home after so long,” Pierrot sighed, reclining next to him.

“Pierrot? What room did you want to grab?” she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. She looked to the other bard with a small smile on her face, the other returning it, even if rather warily.

Pierrot cupped her face, smiling serenely up at her. “One I can share with you, lyubimaya,” he simpered, Malvina scoffing quietly. Always with the romance this one. She playfully tapped his nose as she moved back to where the bartender stood. All the while they spoke, she listened to the conversation Pierrot was having with Taliesin.

“Still don’t regret the choice, huh?”

“And I never will. Our stars have yet to unalign since that fateful day,” Pierrot commented wistfully.

She shook her head with a wide grin, thanking the keeper as he offered to bring their things up to their room.

“So it would seem.”

“You seem rather out of sorts, my dear friend. The weather bringing you down?” She looked over curiously as Pierrot asked, casting a glance to the stairs she moved back to the men once more.

“Oh goodness I shan't bother you with my tale,” Taliesin dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Oh please.” Pierrot sat up, immediately interested. “It’s never a bother, Taliesin. Do tell; what’s been going on?”

“Ah well, I must warn ya it’s a tragic tale of woe and calamity,” Taliesin cautioned seriously with a hand to his head. Pierrot leaned closer with a gasp. Malvina shook her head with a grin.

Ever the theatrics from both of them. The sentiment was made worse as her dear Pierrot brought around the lute, still tucked into his bag, and uncovered it, already tuning it.

Still, as much as she wanted to listen to what story the two bards were to weave, another duty called right now. She wrapped her arms around her husband, swaying them both from side to side as she murmured: “I’m going to go and set our stuff upstairs, okay?”

“Of course, love. I’ll order your favourite in the meanwhile.” he winked up at her as she let him go, hearing the lute tuning proceed once more, followed by: “Do tell, Taliesin. What misfortune has befallen you, dear friend?”

She was too far to hear what travesty might have befallen the other man as she walked up the stairs, seeing the innkeeper still standing by with the door open. She gave him a few coins of gold and silver as well as a thank you before they dismissed the other—the man walking back down into the noise of the main diner, and she walking into the room. Their bags were both placed neatly down beside the bed, Malvina giving a quick flick of her wrist as she levitated what belongings they had. She took the first pile and tucked it into the chest of drawers, leaving the rest to levitate, before moving to grab the next. Satisfied with her work she sat down on the covers of the mattress, feeling the threaded cotton underneath. She looked at the bag, seeing the small stack of parchment inside and pulled them out. They were rolled up now, but she could still see the creases from when parchments were folded up multiple times to be sent to her. Always with some pigeon, one that the moment she let it go, it flew away as though it was never tamed. She never quite understood how he managed it. But then again she had no talent with animals so how was she supposed to understand it in the first place. What she did know is that it brought her immense joy when he wrote back.

She unfolded one of the letters, the writing faded but not quite just yet. The date at the top read August 2012 but her attention was more drawn to what was actually written.

“My lady?”

She looked up at the voice, seeing Pierrot leaning against the door frame. “Will you do me the honours of dining with me and my camaraderie on this fair winter’s night?”

Malvina chuckled as she tucked the letters back into the bag. She stepped over to him, hooking her arm around his. “Only if you would grant me the same,” she hummed, as he led them both down into the tavern.

Soon, Pinocchio. You don’t have to wait for us much longer.

It was the sound of something falling that had Lampwick blearily blinking awake. The place next to him was empty and Pinocchio nowhere to be seen. Most likely downstairs, from the sounds of it. Sitting by the steps was Figaro, the cat giving him a quiet “mrrp!” in greeting. He gave him a quick scritch behind the ears, pulling back just as the tom stood up and stretched.

The immediate thing that greeted the man as he made his way downstairs was the sudden very cold air that had seeped inside. The fire wasn’t stoked, but it was seeing the windows and the half-door both being open that took him by surprise. Iskra looked up at him from next to it, sitting patiently on the porch as she usually would every morning. She still had her large blanket on, having most likely bolted from the stables to get here soon enough, with her usual one held between her teeth. The winter wind blew into the room, Lampwick biting back a hiss as he crossed his arms over in order to shield himself from the cold. He looked to the kitchen where a broom lay abandoned on the floor, a dustpan and brush close to it too. Minimal dirt and dust was on the pan, with shards of broken ceramic (probably what caused the crash earlier?), as well as on the floor too, which he had expected. What he wasn’t prepared to witness was to see Pinocchio rearranging the chairs at the table.

Huh! He’d yet to witness that one.

He slammed the half-door shut, hearing the pony’s protests behind it but he’ll make peace with that after seeing to this catastrophic cleaning spree. He knew very well that they had tidied the whole house up properly just the other day: every corner had been dusted, every floor sweeped, dishes put away, and laundry done. Neither of them were neat-freaks, so it wasn’t something they would often do, only when it was necessary. Once a week usually … maybe two if they weren’t feeling particularly bothered about it. …Three if they were especially unbothered by it. (Well, except for the laundry.) So watching Pinocchio doing so now, two days after, and inarticulately muttering to himself, he knew this had nothing to do with the place being dirty.

Lampwick sighed as he leaned against the wall, watching his beloved as he moved swiftly past him to the workbench and reorganise his already arranged work tools. All the while he remained quiet as he let the man do his thing.

Actually, now that he was thinking about it; how long had he been at it? He wanted to guess that it hadn’t been too long, but frankly he was only woken by the sound of the vase breaking so it was maybe longer…? Hard to say. He pondered how long this man would continue to go at this. Maybe until he had turned the whole house upside down? Or until he wore himself out again? Part of him was curious to find out, but as Pinocchio moved past him still without a greeting and opened the trapdoor down to the cellar, he figured that maybe he’ll save that for… a better time. And one that didn’t involve a time crunch like he noted the cuckoo-clock showing.

Better wake up the prince from his trance he supposed.

He walked after him, watching him climb out right as he reached the trapdoor.

“So, you’re already up.” he commented, getting no reply even as Pinocchio moved past him and grabbed a bit of parchment. “Helloooo.” he called out a little louder.

“We’re running low on cheese.” Pinocchio muttered, stopping and tapping the quill feather against his chin. “Bread too, shit.”

“Uh-huh.” Lampwick nodded as he walked into the kitchen.

Pinocchio paused, the taller man wondering if he was finally done with his wild stress-cleaning session as he approached him. But as he wrapped an arm around him and was about to press a kiss to his temple, Pinocchio pulled away and marched off, leaving Lampwick to nearly fall against the counter’s cupboard instead.

“Hey was that the last of the lamb we had the other day?” he heard him ask from behind.

Lampwick pouted, offering nothing but a useless shrug in response. “I guess?”

“Damn it!” Pinocchio hissed, “Gods we need food,-” Did they though? “this place is a mess.” But was it really?

He sighed as he turned, seeing the wood-carver straighten the dish towels sitting on the end of the counter and narrowly avoid kicking over the bucket that stood by it. Still, Lampwick watched on, brows pinched above his laid-back gaze, and said nothing as the wood-carver continued to mill around.

“Where’s the-” Pinocchio paused, brows furrowed as he moved away from the kitchen and back to his workbench. Lampwick watched on curiously as he reclined against the counter, biting back a grin as Pinocchio rifled through some tools before abandoning them. “where are my bloody—” he turned to Lampwick as he asked, making a vague sweeping motion in the air.

The red-head’s brows rose.“Yes?”

“Gods, you know what I mean! The —” As he tried to gesture again, Lampwick feigned neutrality while Pinocchio looked to be painting the air.

“Try using words, Occhi,” he joked.

“I’m trying! It’s the—the …” he trailed off, massaging his temple. “The brushes!”

Lampwick hummed thoughtfully, taking long enough time to ponder, and watch the man walking towards the stairs. “Saw one on your workbench before.” he called out as he walked up onto the first step, watching him halt and walk right on back to that bloody workbench for the upteenth time.

“It’s not there!”

“Then I’ve no idea, Pinocchio.” Lampwick called back, hearing his partner groan from the other room. He watched as the man took the broom, finally putting it away and huffed. “Hey, speaking of suddenly lost items. Where’d you put that sword?”

The broom dropped from the wood-carver’s hand at his words, Pinocchio wheeling around with a glare.

“Do you mind not bringing that up right now?!” he snapped.

Lampwick blinked, taken aback by the tone, but he held his hands up in surrender as he spoke. “Alright I was just wondering-”

“Then don’t! It's too early for any of that shit right now!” the wood-carver continued, “That commission is still not done, I can't find my bloody brushes, there's shit to do around here, everything's going to hell and you're not even helping! Pray tell why in the blazes are you bringing up that wretched sword?! I’d hoped you of all people wouldn’t bother and yet- h-how is-how is that more important here?!” He was heaving by the time he was done, teeth grounded together as he glared at his partner.

Lampwick remained silent and unmoving from his spot, watching the other blink rapidly and his expression shift from anger to horror.

There was the fallout he was expecting.

From the moment he found him milling around to the blowup a moment ago.

The second he saw Pinocchio lean back against the railing with shuddering shoulders, Lampwick was on his feet and moving towards him. He sighed, as the wood-carver dropped his head in his hands, and he pulled him away from the railing, wrapping his arms around him to embrace the man tightly.

He knew it would happen. Fuck, he had deliberately brought it up for this reason. Better to get it out of his system and deal with the aftermath, with a far more focused mind than… when holding it in. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear his distress even now.

“I’m sorry,” he heard the muffled apology.

“‘Ts fine.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

They stood quietly by the railing with nothing but the gentle breeze still making their curtains shudder around the open window, and the calming yet shuddering breaths Pinocchio took. He never stepped away all the while, not even as he felt him start to settle. Still, as he lay his head on top of his partner’s he couldn’t help but grin.

“Stealing my thunder a little there, love. Usually I’m the one apologising for the stupid shit I’d say,” he huffed.

“Well right now you’re not the one with—” Pinocchio sighed heavily as he pulled away, the red-head finally able to see the unmasked exhaustion on his betrothed’s face. “Fucking hell, why did this have to happen? Is it too much to ask for a moment of peace around here just once?!” the man groaned as he pulled a hand down his face.

Lampwick’s brows creased sympathetically. He wasn’t sure what he could even say to make any of this easier. Not like this was a situation they were ever expected to face. They’ve been through hell and back, but to fight a war…?

“When has our life ever had peace?” Lampwick pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean it couldn’t have changed…”

“Yeah, see, that would be too easy.”

Pinocchio scoffed, “Could’ve fooled me.” His gaze dropped to the floor, where the broom still lay, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Lampwick smirked and moved away to pick it up and put it away. “Hey, it’s more entertaining, right?”

“For you maybe. Meanwhile I’m getting hailed a hero.” Pinocchio grunted.

“And boy is the big bad king in for a treat when he sees you stroll up onto the battlefield.” Lampwick’s grin widened yet the wood-carver remained unamused.

“Please be serious for once.”

“I am! I’ve never been more serious in my life than I am right now!” he proclaimed as he hopped past him, hearing the man groan.

“It’s not funny! I-I can’t even hold a knife to take down a rabbit and they’re expecting me to win in a war..? I’ll be dead before I can even pull the sword out of the sheathe,” Pinocchio pointed out.

“You know. I always wondered what it’d be like to die young and on the battlefield. Envying your chance and opportunity right now, Pinoke,” It was clear he was teasing as he walked by with the dustpan, winking down at his betrothed as he passed.

“I don’t. I was hoping to grow old next to the idiot I’m choosing to walk down the aisle with, both of us living in some colourful cottage with five cats and his pet pony,” Pinocchio lamented with a sigh, the tone alone making Lampwick chuckle.

“You’re adorable, doll.”

Pinocchio groaned as he moved to his workbench, poking at the chisel he had on there. Lampwick looked over as he went to the cupboard and started sifting through it. He hissed with annoyance, shutting it before returning to the kitchen. “I need more varnish. May just get a new brush at this rate.”

He watched curiously as Pinocchio placed his coin purse into the large coat hanging by the door, and moved upstairs.

“....So no breakfast?” Lampwick called up.

“Can't eat right now, it's too much.” Pinocchio called back.

The red-head sighed as he unhooked his cap from the clothes rack and grabbed his jacket. “Alright. We'll deal with that after we get the shit you say we don't have.”

He didn’t wait for a response, as he opened the front door, Iskra once more standing outside it. Her ears were pinned back as she stomped her hooves on the floor in irritance, her blanket still hanging from her mouth.

Oh, right.

This was the other thing he needed to do.

“Aight you little beast, turn around,” he sighed as he grabbed the red garment, waiting until she was standing with her side to him so he could throw the larger cover off, chucking it back inside and then draped hers over her back. “You wouldn’t have to fuss like this if you just let the stablehand take care of it.”

“Wouldn’t BE fussing if you just did it earlier,” she glared, her voice entering deep into his mind, a train of thought he knew wasn’t his own. Typical.

He turned as the door was locked behind him, Pinocchio once more dressed in the long jacket. Lampwick looked over at what was poking out of the belt, surprised to see the sword there.

“You’re taking it with you,” he pointed out, Pinocchio shrugging.

“Doesn’t feel right keeping it here.”

Lampwick nodded as he followed him away from the house, leading onto the path where the village and markets were. The streets were alive with people walking between stalls or their homes. A couple of soldiers passed them during their patrol, the duo giving them a silent nod. There was a couple sitting on one of the benches outside of The Boiling Mosquito and a whole group gathered around one of the stands, where he was sure the man had an entire cauldron of soup he was selling right now. Gods, that sounded so good right now.

Children’s laughter reached his ears, Lampwick looking over to the snowy bank once more. The same kids from yesterday, along with a group of others were throwing and playing around with the snow once more. One of them looked over as they passed and gave a cheery wave. He and Pinocchio returned it with each of their own. Lampwick huffed out a laugh as the boy was immediately tackled into the snow by his friend. Hearing a sigh next to him, Lampwick looked down at his boyfriend, whose hands were now stuffed in his pocket, and a distant look settled in his eyes. He gently nudged him, the man looking up curiously.

“So you gonna tell me what happened or are ya gonna make me guess?” Lampwick asked, receiving a scoff in response.

“It’s stupid.”

“Occhi-”

“I mean it.”

“Alright! Then we’ll have a good ol’ laugh about it and the inherent stupidity of everyone else for thinking you were some chosen one!” Lampwick proclaimed rather loudly, rolling his eyes as some turned in their direction.

“Lampwick!” Pinocchio shoved him with a hiss, but that wasn’t enough to kill the smirk on his face. In fact, it made it grow wider.

“Come on. Humour me for a moment, love,” Lampwick drawled, putting an arm around the man’s shoulder as he turned away with a pout. “So?”

Pinocchio exhaled. “It's fucking stupid. I never pulled the sword out of any stone.”

“I figured as much,” Lampwick nodded knowingly. Because how insane would that be, right?

“I tripped over it in the woods.”

Lampwick blinked. “Babe…”

“It was just there! I didn't see it until after I got back up and so I just you know! Took it! I didn't think it'd cause such a fuss but gods I should have just left it.”

Well that explained yesterday’s bed-raggled look when he arrived. Still– the immediate criticism that followed… Lampwick sighed.

“You didn't know-”

“Well maybe I should have. We wouldn't be in this mess now if I did,” he finished with a mutter.

Fucking hell who raised this guy for him to turn out like this?!

Oh wait, he knew the answer to that. And it certainly wasn’t Geppetto or the cricket.

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed, all joking now dissipating as he spoke sternly. “You're not omniscient, my guy. So stop beating yourself up about this already. What's done is done. We just gotta deal with it now. And deal with it we will.”

“Easier said than done.”

He followed Pinocchio’s gaze as he looked up at the clock tower, noting how much closer the fateful hour was now. His partner must have noticed it too, hearing him curse under his breath.

“Gods, that time. Can we split up? It’ll be done faster and we’ll have enough time to still get back and get lunch,” Pinocchio suggested, Lampwick already holding his hand out.

“Give me the list.” He looked over the notes the man had taken, nodding silently as he stuffed the paper into his back pocket. “Right well you get what it is you need and I’ll get the rest. Meet you back here in a mo.” He pressed a quick kiss on the man’s cheek as he walked off, hearing Pinocchio only hum in response, even as Iskra bumped her nose against his hand on their departure.

Cold. It was always really cold when the world was so white. And sitting hidden away in her little corner of the town made it no easier to deal with. She knew it would come the moment she had seen the leaves going from green to brown and falling onto the floor. That’s how it was all the time. When the white snow melted the flowers started blooming. When the flowers bloomed it would start getting warm. The trees would start turning green. When they start turning brown and the leaves start falling it would start getting cold. And even colder when snow started to fall.

It was a never ending cycle, and it was one this child was completely aware of, as she poked her head around the alley she was standing in. She shuddered, clamping her hands as she noted how red her fingertips were, even under the linen she had wrapped them in. The warm blanket she had previously had on her shoulders lay abandoned in the street, dirty, wet, and trampled over from steps, hooves and cart wheels. She would grab it now if it weren’t for all the random people still walking over it, until she watched with her heart hammering as someone picked the shawl up, and chucked to the side, into the snow on the other side.

The child’s bottom lip jutted out, her eyes watering. My blanket…

She sniffled and looked out at the various stalls, feeling her stomach ache as she looked longingly at the goods on some of them. The rolls… she could smell something so good further down the line. She couldn’t figure out what it was… soup maybe? Gods she’d love for it to be soup… But she knew it was a nice smell. The child’s mouth watered. She looked ahead, seeing a man walk past her to the nearest stall, the child’s head cocking to the side as she watched him, seeing him reach into his pockets and pull out some loose change.

Her eyes lit up.

Carefully, the toddler snuck between the many legs that walked around her until she reached the man standing at the stall, the child looking up before easing herself up onto her tippies. She wasn’t sure just how much this man could have. But his coat was nice and not damaged and he was buying something that looked reeeeeaaaaaaally expensive, so he probably had enough to share, right? She was sure he wouldn’t miss a few coins, as she eased her hand into the massive pocket.

Just a couple, just a couple- Her finger brushed over the hard surface and her eyes widened.

“THIEF!!”

The loudness of the voice alone was enough to startle her, and pull back, much less the sudden step back and the coat hitting her as well. She fell back on her rump, her eyes watering for a moment before she scrambled to her feet, glaring up at the man above.

“THIEF!”

Immediately Pinocchio whipped around, the small thief as the stallman had referred to it, stumbling back after. As the kid fell back, Pinocchio grimaced, watching her bottom lip wobble. But before he could say anything, she was up on her feet and glaring up at him.

While that would have been fine, he could take that, it was watching the child shift from human to animal that caught him the most off-guard. One moment he was looking at a kid, the next her dark face became covered with fur. She went from standing on two feet to four paws, both ears floppy and little, puppy teeth bared. Her hackles were raised as she snarled up at him. He stood frozen as he stared at the cold, ice blue of one of her eyes and the warm, chestnut brown of the other.

“Uh-”

“Guards!”

“Stop- No- wait, cease!!! Stand down!” he called out as he spotted the guards brace themselves and start to approach. The crowd as well seemed to slow as the shop-keep from behind him had called them to attention. He waved his hands around placidly. “It’s-it’s okay. It’s just-” A kid? A dog? He didn’t know anymore. What he did know is that he was being glared up by a very small creature that had supposedly robbed him and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with this revelation. He tried to crouch down, his movements slow as he did so as the dog tried to scramble back more.

“Shhh…” he hushed quietly, his hands still raised as he tried his damned best to calm the agitated animal down. “It’s okay. It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he murmured, hearing her growls grow a little softer.

“Pinocchio?!”

Oh Gods.

Any fear he might have quelled in her for that moment returned, the man pulling his hand quickly back as the puppy snapped her teeth at him. He could hear hurried steps slowing down as they got closer, glancing to his betrothed as he approached before looking back down at the kid-turned-dog.

Lampwick above him scoffed. “Abandoned shopping to adopt another stray? Aren’t Figaro and Iskra enough?”

Pinocchio sighed, but before he could respond, the dog bolted into the crowd.

“Wait!!” he shouted as he ran after it, hearing Lampwick curse behind him and give chase as well. He tried to wade through the crowd, just barely spotting the dark fur weaving between other people as he worked to catch up, seeing a couple of the guards that he originally told to let it be dart past him. They blocked the creature off in front of an alley, the shop-keep from before was still yelling in alarm as a couple nearby cut her off as well. He could hear her frantic yapping and caught sight of the dog snapping her teeth at another individual that tried to grab for her.

“Everyone! Oh come on, can we stop chasing it for a sec-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish as Lampwick, having run ahead of him, successfully grabbed her by the scruff, holding the dog up triumphantly.

“Lampwick!” Pinocchio exclaimed as he reached him.

Lampwick snorted, grinning at the dog that was wriggling in his hand. “What? It doesn’t seem all that bothered about it!” He jerked his head back as she snapped at his nose. “Well you sure are feisty!”

Pinocchio sighed, running a hand down his face. Gods this wasn’t the day to deal with shit like this. “Put the dog down, Lampwick.”

Lampwick’s laughter died down as the dog turned into a young girl.

“Put me down!!” She shouted as she continued to struggle against Lampwick’s hold, even going so far as to flailing her fists about.

“Not until she returns what she took from the good man!” The stall owner from before piped up.

Lampwick looked at the kid then at the wood-carver, an obvious grin bitten back. “Ya let yourself get pickpocketed by a puny toddler?”

Pinocchio breathed out heavily. “Lampwick-”

“Let me go!! I didn’ do not’ing!” The child squeaked again, drawing his betrothed’s attention back to her.

“Hard t’ believe if everyone’s calling out your crimes, kid,” he sneered, the kid's narrowed eyes starting to mist.

“Lampwick!!” Pinocchio barked, “Please, put her down.”

The red-head pouted yet relented. With a shrug he put the kid back on her feet, the child stumbling back before dusting herself off.

“Didn’ take anyt’ing. And yoo’d know tha’ if yoo checked!” She glared up at Pinocchio in particular as she spoke.

“And what made you think you should even try?” The shop-keeper spoke up.

Lampwick wheeled around and snapped: “Oh clam up, old guy! Isn’t it obvious? Look at her!” he gestured to the child who had grown stiffer by the minute.

Pinocchio massaged his temple, listening as the stall-owner continued to bicker with his partner. Gods, he should have just stayed home today.

“Can we all stop with the yelling?!” he demanded before returning his attention to the child.

Her shoulders were squared up as she toyed with the hem of her ripped shirt, tearing further holes into it. Her gaze was on the floor now, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to be scared,” he continued softly as he crouched down onto the ground again. The child’s glare had lessened at least, but still she didn’t approach. She let out a quiet whimper as she took a step back, Pinocchio noted how much she was trembling. Maybe the cold? Fear? Both?? Both seemed most likely.

She ended up backing into Iskra standing right behind her, the grey, spotted pony giving the girl a small nuzzle. He watched them quietly, seeing how quickly the kid took to patting the small, double hump-backed creature, Iskra fluttering her cheek wings playfully at the child.

The more he watched the more he realised he really hadn’t seen this kid around here before. Her dark-skinned round face, with pale patches, was thinned out like the rest of her body, the kid obviously not eating well for a while. The clothes she had on were worn down and old, and her hair was a complete mess. Dirt clung to every part of her, making Pinocchio wonder when was the last time she had gotten a bath. No, scratch that: when was the last time this child had been taken care of in general? It sickened him to even think she was out here until now and all alone.

“What’s your name?” he asked quietly, watching her shake her head. “Are you from around here? Where’s your home?”

She shook it again, the movements more frantic now as she continued to play with Iskra’s mane.

He heard Lampwick curse above him as the kid’s fingers grew more agitated in their movement. The red-head sat down next to him, despite the cold snow underneath them. It caught the child’s attention for a moment, her head tilting curiously. She seemed about to copy him when a sudden wind breezed past them, discomfort showing on the child’s face as she tried feebly to shield herself from it.

Gods…

Pinocchio hastily unveiled his scarf from around his neck and held it out to her. “Here. This isn’t the weather to wear something like that.”

He waited patiently as she eyed it with caution. One hand she still had wrapped in Iskra’s hair, the other she tapped her chin with. He continued to hold it out even as his arm started to ache, a small smile spreading across his face as she carefully eased closer and snagged it from his hold.

“She has no name, and seemingly no place to live,” Lampwick murmured next to him, “Pinocchio she’s definitely-”

“I know…” he muttered, glancing over at his betrothed. She was definitely an orphan, that much was obvious. There wasn't an adult in sight trying to claim her, and most of the crowd from up until now had dispersed. Aside from him and his partner, no one seemed all that bothered about the child. Even the shopkeeper from before had returned back to his duties after he had been cut off. It bothered him and reminded him too much of his time as a puppet, when he spent years wandering the world aimlessly with no one to guide him or at his side. He figured it was just because of his body made of wood, that no one was all too bothered or they were even… scared? Of him? But this was an infant of nothing but flesh and blood…

He wondered if Lampwick had been right all those years ago. That people simply don't care enough to notice someone so obviously in need of help.

But if she hadn't approached, he wouldn’t either, right? So who was he to judge others?

His chest clenched painfully as he turned back to the kid, ignoring the ill feeling as he breathed in shakily. “H-how long have you been out here for?”

He was almost scared to hear what answer the child would give. She looked up after fixing up the scarf some more, eyeing him warily. She shrugged silently and the knot of nerves in Pinocchio’s stomach grew taut.

She looked no older than… five at least. Maybe even younger. Four? Three? It was hard to tell, she was so small. The dirt and grime on her face did her no favours either as did her hair, black and white, and grown so long but was in knots. And yet despite all that, it was the shivering and seeing just how thin she was that made his heart break. Why didn’t anyone…do anything until now? How did she end up like this?

His thoughts were interrupted by a snort, Pinocchio looking up and seeing the pony stomp her hoof with her ears pinned back. Iskra suddenly nudged the child forward, forcing the woodcarver to catch her. He froze, his touch delicate as though he was holding glass. But in this case no, it was a small child that had equally seized up in his hold. He breathed in shakily as he wrapped an arm around the toddler, drawing her closer. The shivers he had only seen until now he could feel the moment his hand lay on the small of her back. And Gods she was so cold and underfed. Small hands tentatively gripped at his coat, the man drawing her even closer. He wasn’t going to leave her out here… He couldn’t leave her out here.

“Pinocchio?”

“She’s coming with us.” Pinocchio commented, hands still wrapped around the kid as he stood up.

“Where?” asked his partner as he too stood up.

“I don’t-” Shit, he didn’t think about that. “Where could we go?”

“Tavern’s closest. Could take her there. At least t’ get a quick meal,” Lampwick suggested.

Pinocchio frowned. “Pray tell; why would you think that’s even appropriate?”

“Eugene’s there. He’s got a great cook. And he’s a fairly okay one himself. My old man would do that too, so—” his fiancé shrugged.

“And that did wonders for you now, didn’t it? I'm sure the smoking there will do her great,” Pinocchio grunted as the kid’s arms wrapped around his neck instead.

“Beggars can't be choosers, Occhi. It's our best shot right now,” Lampwick pointed out.

Pinocchio wanted to argue but he knew the man had a point. For all he knew, maybe Eugene would be able to let them into the kitchen or… get a room for her to eat in peace and without the commotion, so maybe the idea wasn’t too horrible. But as he was about to relent, the belltower chimed a new hour. He stared up at the clock, the hands showing it was an hour before noon.

“No…” he breathed, as he stared at the time. Gods, can something go right right now?!

“You need to go, if you want to get there by midafternoon.” Lampwick sighed next to him. “I can try and get her something and then make my way to you, once that’s taken care of.”

As Lampwick moved to take the child from Pinocchio’s hold, she whined, her grip around his neck tightening.

Lampwick grunted, as she jerked out of his grip. “Kid-”

“No!!” she exclaimed, burying her head in the crook of the wood-carver’s neck.

He huffed, throwing his hands in the air as he stepped back. “Great! Now what?”

Pinocchio hummed, quietly thinking. “I’ll take her with me, And you bring us something once you get to the palace?” he suggested, “I could maybe ask Blue and see if she has any ideas on what to do with her.”

“Oh yeah because she has a great track record on being useful, doesn’t she?” Lampwick scoffed.

Pinocchio groaned. “I really don’t have time to think of anything else so unless you have a better idea on your mind right now, this is the best we've got.”

He watched his partner's face contort to further annoyance as he muttered under his breath. He knew the man wasn’t a fan of the idea. He himself had doubts about this, but this was the only thing he could think of that could potentially work. Especially if the child herself was proving difficult to convince right now.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way and then go from there depending on what happens.” Lampwick sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Pinocchio nodded softly. “Sounds good to me.”

Lampwick only hummed as he turned, hesitating in his walk before turning around and grabbing Pinocchio's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The woodcarver smiled, shifting the child's weight sitting at his side as he reciprocated the gesture, before pulling away and matching off to the stables.

After several double-checks and haggling with the merchant about woodworking tools for half an hour if not longer, Lampwick found himself drawn to the tavern, the sign's temptation irresistible after a morning like today's. Frankly he felt he should head off home but looking at the time, Pinocchio would still be on his way and he'd get there by the time the meeting were to start.

He had enough time after to give him what he got.

Though maybe the same couldn't be said about the kid… she looked like she could do with a feed. And gods if he didn't understand that. He remembered the few times the farmer once forgot the feed after returning from a drunken stupor. Horrifying was the workload the next day really… everything about that experience had been… not something he wished to think or remember anymore.

Iskra snorted next to him as they walked inside, the man giving her a quiet pet. He was glad she showed when she did. A total lifesaver is was she was but also the one friend he needed at the time.

Still the question remained was the kid they found as well as the ordeal they were already putting up with. He hoped Pinocchio proved him wrong about the kid and Blue. Just this one he hoped he was right about her. That would ensure they had one less thing to worry about.

He sat down on the bar stool with a heavy sigh, drawing Eugene's attention to him almost immediately.

“The usual, Wicker?”

Lampwick looked up, seeing Eugene still cleaning the tankard even as he spoke. He shook his head. “Nah, not today. I’ll jus’ have the mead.”

The innkeeper nodded quietly, snatching up a bottle from the shelf and a single shot glass as well. A man rushed up to the bar, a grin on his face as another bartender glanced over curiosity written on their speckled face.

“Another round for the gentlemen over there,” he proclaimed, placing down five tankards.

The man behind the counter scoffed as they grabbed the mugs by the handles, pulling up the lever and letting the drinks pour. “Gods, they’re gonna drink us dry,” they commented out loud, Lampwick looking over curiously as they glared.

“So long as they’re paying it’s fine, ‘Kin,” Eugene pointed out as he passed over the shot to the red-head.

Lampwick hummed, looking over at the group they were previously looking at, seeing the bard from last night as well as a couple of other individuals he’s never seen before. One of which had the brightest hair he’s ever seen. He downed his drink, looking at his friend who was leaning against the bar as well. “That sucker causing ya trouble?”

Eugene shook his head, his attention on the group. “Nothing I can’t deal with. Though what’s this shit I’m hearing about Pinocchio and some magic sword? That guy from yesterday came over to the bar and started talking about it.”

“Pinocchio and what?” A woman asked.

Lampwick glanced over, seeing the bright-haired woman he had noticed before, her eyes the same colour as her hair. There was something… strange about her. Maybe it was the pointed ears, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Who the hell are you?” he frowned, her grin widening.

“I could ask you the same thing, hm?” She leaned against the counter.

“He’s a regular. And also Pinocchio’s… is it ‘husband’ now already?” Eugene asked, glancing quizzically up at the red-head.

Lampwick snorted, unaware of how the woman’s eyes lit up. “What? Afraid we forgot t’ invite ya to the wedding, Eugene?” he jested, the other man letting out a scoff.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Ah, so you’re Lampwick. You fit the description he gave once,” she proclaimed, Lampwick’s attention immediately falling on her. She knew his bloody name. How in the world did she know his ruddy name?!

“Description? ‘He’? Who in the blazes are you?” he exclaimed, eyes narrowing further.

“Does your betrothed not speak of us as much as he spoke of you in our letters?” she asked.

“Let…ter……” he trailed off, glancing at the group. The woman’s smile seemed to grow as he looked at the two men playing on their designated instruments. The two newer strangers… Of course. His gaze cleared with realisation. “You… No, he’s definitely mentioned you before. You’re that fairy aren’t you? With the bard. The guys he met after-” he pursed his lips. No he’s not mentioning that shit. His back stung at the mere prospect of thinking back to that accursed place. Iskra nudged his palm, the man petting her nose as he kept his gaze trained on the woman next to him.

“Supposedly. Wouldn’t really call myself a fairy however.” The woman shrugged and held her hand out. “Malvina. It’s a pleasure meeting you at last.”

He was quick to take it, Malvina's grip firm as he shook it. “Likewise. What brings ya ‘ere to Collodi?”

“Figured it’d be obvious,” she scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest. “My beloved and I are here to see your betrothed actually. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Pinocchio.”

Lampwick huffed, looking over gratefully as Eugene passed him another shot. “Well good luck getting a hold of ‘im right now. Given the council has it out for ‘im.”

“Because of the sword?” Malvina asked, brows furrowing sympathetically as he nodded.

“Mal, my dearest, what are you doing all the way in the front there?”

Lampwick glanced over at the new voice, seeing the dark-skinned man watching them. He was sporting a purple beret now… something he was sure he didn't have on when he came in. The lute was sitting propped against his middle and he half lay and half sat on the bench, propped up both against the wall and the bench.

“Come and join us at the table!” he added, waving at them. Lampwick glanced at the woman standing next to him, noting the serene look on her face.

“How about you let Taliesin have his turn in the spotlight and you come over here! There’s someone here that you should meet anyway,” she called back, giving Lampwick yet another smile.

Without another word, the man at the bench hopped off, passing the loot to Taliesin as he walked on over. Lampwick could see that he was wearing a vest over the blouse of the same colour as his hat, gold embroidery decorating the shoulder edge and the hem of it. Even the buttons were golden. Very fancy. Clearly someone that's worked his way to the upper classes. Interesting.

“And who might this be, love?” the stranger asked.

Malvina swiftly gestured to the red-head. “Lampwick, I’d like you to meet my beloved, Pierrot. Pierrot, you remember Lampwick right? The one Pinocchio’s talked about often.”

Pierrot grinned widely, pearly whites showing. “Ah, so you’re the lucky lad he put a ring on a few years back.”

Lampwick arched a brow up as he held out his hand. “That’s one way to put it? Pleasure though.”

“A great pleasure it is indeed.” the cheerful man beamed, “And where’s the man now? Did he ditch you for something more interesting?”

Lampwick snorted. “Don’t see the palace as something considered ‘more interesting’. Though this is hardly the time for talks around the tavern.” he added, hearing Iskra snort next to him.

“When do you think he’ll be back?” Pierrot asked.

“Hard t’ say.” Lampwick admitted. He downed the second shot, throwing down a couple of gold pieces on the counter before standing up. “Tell ya what. If you’re waiting up on ‘im you may as well wait up on ‘im in the one place he will show up at. Th’ chances of him showing his face ‘ere are fairly slim.” he suggested, Pierrot shrugging.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. What say you, moonflower?” he asked, turning to Malvina.

“I’ll gladly accept the invite, if that’s what this is,” she said as she hooked her arm around the bard.

Lampwick stuffed his hands into his pockets, scuffing the floor. “Great. Then let’s not dwindle.”

The kid had mostly calmed down since they left Collodi, sitting wordlessly in front of him as he urged the horse forward. He did his best to not jolt the child too much as they rode, but the way she would grab for the reins the moment he slowed, made him wonder if she wasn’t enjoying the ride even just a little. At some point he had abandoned his vest, draping it over the child in an effort to keep her warm. It wasn’t much but she seemed to appreciate that, as well as the neck scarf he had previously given her.

Still, his nerves gnawed at the back of his mind as they spurred onwards, wondering what he’ll be doing next. He was hardly a parent and he knew that his betrothed was anything but responsible as well. What the hell would they do if this didn’t turn out the way he hoped it would?

Well, there was also the option of Malvina; and Pinocchio mentally kicked himself for not even considering that option first. He was sure she’d have some sort of suggestion. If there was one person he knew would help, that wouldn’t turn a kid away, it was her. She was like that with him all those years before and he was sure that nature of hers hasn’t changed even now. He was sure Pierrot would have a time trying to entertain her too.

But even so, wouldn’t that be too big a favour? Gods, he wasn’t sure. This wasn’t a situation he had ever thought he’d find himself in. First the whole debacle with the sword and now a child.

Fuck, the sword! The whole reason he was heading for the palace in the first place.

How on earth did he manage to go from a lowly woodworker that sat at the council table, despite him never really contributing and sitting only because his father once did, to some proclaimed hero of Camelot that’ll save them all? Every part of him wanted to just turn back around and forget about the whole thing. Cower and hide away from the world that seemed to just constantly have it out for him.

But he knew he couldn’t… he had promised to lead a… an honest and faithful life and doing that would just be the opposite… wouldn’t it?

Gods, he wished Jiminy was still here…

He only hoped as he reached the palace, that for once, Lampwick would be wrong about the Blue Fairy, that she would offer the assistance this child would need. And that everything regarding the whole Excalibur nonsense won’t go south either.

“So, how long has he been gone for?”

Malvina's question halted Lampwick in the process of his task, the man holding a knife over the onion he was slicing. They were in the house, currently residing in the kitchen, Pierrot and Mavina currently sat at the kitchen table while he worked at the counter. Around his feet circled Figaro, the giant cat mrrowing loudly as he attempted to plead out a morsel of leftovers from him.

Yeah keep trying, but he's gotten real good at resisting the pleading eyes now, small guy!

Next to him sat a plate with a currently half-eaten sandwich, while next to that lay a cloth, with another already. It wasn't anything too extreme, just some cheese, onion, and smoked ham he had managed to obtain right now, but it'd have to do.

Pondering only for a moment however, Lampwick continued to chop the onion, as he spoke; “A couple or so hours. I’d say he’s probably already at the palace, truth be told.”

“What did the palace want from him anyway?” Pierrot spoke up.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Lampwick grunted, unaware of Pierrot's shrug, “Some numbskulls don’t bother giving a guy the chance to explain, and came up with the convoluted scenario that he’s some chosen one.”

“Ahhh that. So the tales being spun around here are true,” the bard continued.

“If that’s what you want to believe. He found some magical sword in the woods and is now being asked to defeat a king in a war.” Lampwick continued, his movements growing more agitated as he spoke. He quickly pulled his hand back when the knife got a little too close to his fingers, breathing in deeply. The knife itself fell to the floor with a clatter, the man scoffing as he picked it back up. Least Figaro was in his basket now.

“Well he must be ruddy thrilled about that, I’m sure,” Pierrot continued, Lampwick looking over and seeing the shake of the man's head.

He snorted, laying out the slices of onion onto the sandwich as he continued to talk. “Indeed. Positively ecstatic.” Hearing footsteps, the man looked over, his frown growing as he watched the blue-haired lady pace. “What are you doing?”

“Just wandering,” she replied simply.

Lampwick's befuddlement did not, however, cease. “You looking for somethin’?” he asked again.

“She’s thinking actually.” Pierrot looked over.

Lampwick's befuddlement grew, the man pinching the bridge of his nose as Pierrot snickered. “Okay. What is she thinking about then?”

“Do you think if I tried to summon the Blue Fairy she would actually appear or ignore my call?” Malvina piped up.

“She’d be wise not to ignore it, moonflower,” Pierrot crooned.

Lampwick resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Gods, no wonder these guys were all friends once: They're all ridiculous saps. He's so glad Pinocchio wasn't writing him fucking… poetry at this point!

Still, the comment had him chuckling, snide venom on his tongue as he said: “Good luck. She’s currently pretending to play regent in the palace actually. The only thing that’ll be grabbing her attention right now is seeing just how wrong some people there can answer her insane requests.”

Pierrot clicked his tongue. “That sure sounds like her. Lies down impossible expectations and just expects people to accomplish them without a hitch.”

Lampwick smirked. “Jus’ as fond of her huh?”

“You have no idea.” Malvina replied with a smile.

The woman’s grin was wide and sweet. Too sweet, tittering towards downright fake. Once again, he was thrown back to what Pinocchio said about her. He kept calling her a fairy but Lampwick admittedly at first didn't see it. For starters, she had no wings. That was the biggest tell for him. … But he had no choice but to admit that the longer she was in his presence, the more off she seemed. Her ears were pointed, her curly hair turquoise, and he could not shake how weird it was to see turquoise as an eye-colour, even in a land where magic clung to every corner of the land.

That was the last thing. Magic. He knew for certain that she had it now. He knew the energy, having felt it from Pinocchio when they were still younger, when he was still nothing but wood. That was magic. And she was practically radiating with it. He was sure it could rival that of the Dark One even. No, maybe that was pushing it, but there was power there!!

So maybe what Pinocchio had said about her wasn't entirely off. What with the smile and how she spoke until now? He had a feeling that her being a fairy wasn't completely out of the question. But there was a little history there regarding that that he wasn't made privy to.

Suddenly she turned and marched to the door, hand already on the handle as she spoke: “Well, I’d best be heading off.”

“What? To the palace?” he asked, as he turned back to finish packing up the sandwiches.

“Of course. I can get two birds in one stone over there. See Pinocchio and her royal nuisance as well.” She struck a pose, throwing a curl back. “Think she’ll still recognise me, lyubimiy? Or chose to forget me.”

“Who could forget a beauty like you, Malvina?” Pierrot commented.

Lampwick couldn't help but groan. Gods help me. His eyes couldn't roll back far enough. “Well if that’s the case then come on,” he tied the last knot on the cloth and grabbed his satchel. “I need to drop this off for Pinocchio anyway.”

“Oh please, you’re not bringing him that pitiful looking meal are you?” Pierrot asked, a scoff on his tongue.

Lampwick glared back. “Do I look like I’m made of money enough to afford a fucking banquet?!”

Fucking nobility ass-

“Let him be, Pierrot. We’re not in the royal palace here,” Malvina interjected, having at least enough decency to look apologetic.

Lampwick huffed. “Right. It’s a decent meal and we’ve had worse. Besides; gotta give something to the kid we found and gods know what she could eat.”

“Kid. Well that’s new, ” Pierrot mused.

“How old was she?” Malvina's arms crossed over her chest.

“Beats me. Three? Four? Five?” he paused, looking down at the packed food in his satchel. “Do four year olds eat sandwiches or is it still milk?” he muttered.

“Ever met a five year old that’s still drinking milk out of a bottle?”

“...No?”

“Then that should answer your question.” Malvina concluded.

“So are we done with the speculations? Can we get going now?” Pierrot asked, already standing up.

“Yeah, may as well. Still need to saddle up the horse,” Lampwick hummed as he opened the door. Lo and behold, his tiny steed was already up and waiting. Little leech of a creature.

“For what?” Malvina asked.

Lampwick frowned. “What?”

“You don’t need a horse for how we’re going to get there.” She smirked and flicked her wrist, sparks and fairy dust flickering from her fingers.

Lampwick withheld a flinch at the sight, cringing. “With magic.”

“Scared?” Malvina asked curiously.

“Jus’ not a fan,” he muttered. He hated how hesitant he sounded, but gods, despite the years he still didn't like the idea of being around it. He was just glad it was kept minimum at home due to the lack of abilities either him or Pinocchio had, and Grace usually kept her potion experiment bullshit for when he wasn't nearby. Iskra he could tolerate; she kept whatever tricks she could pull to herself and far away from him but others…

“It’s just a little ol’ teleportation spell. You won’t feel a thing.” she assured

“Maybe you’ll get a little dizzy, once you get to your destination but eh! That’s a manageable side-effect!” Pierrot added cheerfully.

Lampwick hummed, looking down at the tiny mare next to him. Assurances were whispered in his mind, her voice his personal anchor. Iskra nudged him and stepped back, glancing at the door. With a sigh he shut it once more and locked it. “Fine. May as well get this over with.”

He marched over to the duo, Malvina holding her hand out to the both of them. The moment his fingers touched her palm a bright light engulfed the room. His eyes shut tight as he braced for impact.

No one was left inside.

The moment she had been taken off of the horse, she hadn’t let go of the big man’s hand. Her tiny fingers clasped tightly around his index finger as he led them through the halls. She didn’t like it…

She never liked places like this. The last time she was walked through a hall like this, she was then tied to a pole that was supposed to be set on fire. It scared her. The clanking sound of aamour made her afraid, and she subconsciously tried to press even closer against the big man leading her through. Her eyes were wide as she wildly looked around. Her heart raced faster as the man pulled his finger out of her grasp, until he carefully picked her up. She stiffened at first, wondering if this was something bad. Was he taking her to that bad place then? Was he like the big guards too and was taking her down to the cold and dark place right now?

But when she looked down at him, his face was gentle, and he looked kinda scared too. She didn’t think an adult could look scared like that. It felt weird to see. But the smile he had on; it felt nice. It reminded her of the.. the eseptions she knew that were nice to her. Despite her pout, she relaxed, feeling the tension leave him as well. She was ready to sleep if it wasn’t for them stopping and him setting her down on the floor. The kid looked up owlishly, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as the man patted her shoulder.

“Wait out here, okay? I’ll be back soon enough,” he said, before walking over to the door opposite to them.

The guard ousside it opened the door, and let him step inside before closing it again. The child pouted and sat herself down on the floor. She started-ed fiddling with the carpet beneath her, pulling at the strands silently as she did so. She didn’ know how long he was suppose to be gone for. The warmth of the hall made her eyes start to droop again, added in with the hunger that had been plaguing her since earlier in the morning. She was just about to curl up and take a nap when someone walked past. Their footsteps were heavy and it quickly roused her as she pushed he’self back against the wall, as though that wood prote’t her. Despite the scare, her eyes widened as she looked at the plate they were carrying, seeing the diffent foods that lay on it. The smell of the foods hit her too, making her mouth water. She smacked her lips as she watched them disappear down the hall, the ache in her stomach reminding her of how hungry she still was. She looked to the door then down the hall again, her mind made up. She was sure if she was gone a few minutes it won’t be a problem. So with a quick shake her body shifted to that of a small puppy and she ambled off.

She stuck to the wall, trying her best to stay out of the way, as she picked up the pace to catch up with the foods plate. She reached the end of the hall, looking down at the dark steps that circled around a stone pillar. The white-clothed man’s scent went downwards, the kid changing back as she carefully sat down on the step and slid down onto the next. And then the next. And the next. She continued like this until she reached the final step at the bottom, the person in white nowhere to be found. She looked around and sniffed the air, bouncing her legs excitedly as she got back up onto her feet and wandered over to the table. She pulled the chair out, climbing up onto it with a little struggle before standing on the seat, looking down at the diffent foods on the plates. Tiny hands grabbed for the closest bread roll, the hardness of the crust not bothering her as she took a bite. She was quick to grab a piece of cheese as well, trying a little of that too. The kid, with a grin plastered on her face soon sat herself down on the chair, ready to slide off of it when-

“Hey!”

The call made her gasp and jumped from the chair, mouth full of cheese and a roll in her hand, she took off down the door opposite to where she had come in from. She didn’t care if she knocked something over, or about the loud exclamations of surprise that she caused from passers-by in that hallway, just so long as she could get away the loud footsteps and the shouting for her to stop. She ran into the hall again, the man’s calls alerting some of the other guards too who jumped to action with big, metal weapons. She stumbled to a halt as they dropped the axes down before her path and blocked the way. She turned, seeing the guard from before and another cutting off her escape as well. She was panting by then, her legs giving in as she sat down on the floor in defeat, still holding the little roll in her hand as she did nothing but stare up at them, eyes glaring up at them. The knight sighed but came over and lifted her up, taking the bread roll from her. She reached out to try and take it back but to no avail.

Well… guess she was going to the bad place today anyway…

Was he stiff? Yes. Did he feel like his feet were made of lead? Most certainly. Was he sweating buckets as he led this tiny child through a palace hall that suddenly felt far too big for his presence? Immensely. And despite telling himself that everything will be fine, Pinocchio felt nothing but the deepest desire to turn around and walk back out, get back home and forget any of this was happening. Hell, even with the child he had. Just get a hold of Malvina and be done with it.

He knew he couldn't… he knew he had no choice but to keep moving forward, even if that was made quite difficult when every moment a guard walked past them, the girl pressed firmly against his side, making it even harder to walk. Least she was quiet though… even if that felt kind of wrong. He remembered vaguely how chatty Princess(?) Emma used to be when she was younger. Hell, even he never shut up either. This kid though…

He glanced down seeing her eyes wide and terrified as she grabbed at his trousers when another guard passed, the man glancing down in befuddlement before turning the woodcarver. Pinocchio could only shrug as he instead, finally relented and pulled his hand out of her hold and picked her up. She went stiff as a board at first, but was quick to calm down soon enough, relaxing in his hold. His quiet smile remained, a weight falling off of him as she lay her head on his shoulder and he carried her the rest of the way.

Outside of the council chamber he set her down, the child rubbing at her eyes blearily.

“Wait out here, okay?” He murmured, crouching in front of her, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be back soon enough.”

With that he turned and walked to the door, the guards opening it and letting him in. Seated at the table were pretty much all of the present council members, with four seats remaining empty. The Dove and the Ant… Emma and Jiminy.. The lion’s seat was empty too, Red presumably still away.

Blue looked over as the door closed, speaking up only once Pinocchio reached the table. “No Lampwick today?”

“He’ll be showing up later. Just needed to take care of some things at home,” Pinocchio explained, pulling the seat out from in front of the eagle.

Blue nodded. “I see. Well take a seat.”

As Pinocchio sat himself at the table, he noted the seat next to Henry was vacant as well. “Where’s Lancelot?”

“He’ll be here soon as well, just needed to check on something with the guards.” Henry piped up, the woodcarver nodding. “He said to start without him.”

“Our main concern right now is setting up defences in Rose especially.” a senior knight, sitting at Grumpy’s right, pointed out. Blue waved her hand over the table, a map appearing in the centre. The knight stood up, motioning around a castle, not far from where they were. “Despite the strength of their army, they’re the most in imminent danger right now.”

“I’d say we split our army!” one of the dwarves chimed in, Happy’s grin wide.

Ever the optimist, that one.

Pinocchio went to object, but Henry spoke up a little sooner:

“And leave ourselves defenceless?”

“I agree with Happy on this. That might give us all our best shot,” the knight next to him added. Pinocchio shuffled, noting the scowl on the prince’s face.

“I’m not sure. That sounds rather risky,” Grumpy huffed, another of the dwarves nodding his head from across the table.

“They have an army of-of maybe hundreds! How are we supposed to fight against a force like that?” Doc added.

“Well… we need only hold the defence up until the king is taken down.” the knight pointed out. He was young, that much Pinocchio was sure of. Definitely hasn't been on the field for long but while he got his logic he… well he couldn't say much on the matter either but from the rants and rambles Henry often dropped on him, it was safe to say that this probably… wasn't the smartest move? Most likely?

But no one seemed to be objecting save for Grumpy, so what else could he really say.

“Yeah? And who are you thinking should be thrown into that pit?” Grumpy quizzed.

“That’d be where Merlin’s chosen could come in, don’t you think?” Blue chimed in, her attention turning to the woodcarver. “If we could get you close enough to the king and you take him down, we’ll have a secured win.”

Pinocchio paled. He was supposed to reach the palace?! And kill the guy?!

Fuck, he should have just stayed at home today.

“Um-”

“That’s still insane, lady. Didn’t you hear what Doc said?” Grumpy butted in, cutting Pinocchio off (much to his relief). “This isn’t George we’re fighting, it’s a mass army here. Probably made up of several kingdoms. I don’t think a plan this simple’s gonna cut it.”

The rest of the council murmured quiet agreements to the dwarf’s statement, Henry’s arms crossing over his chest. But even he seemed to relax a touch. Pinocchio remained dead silent as he glanced between each and every individual. The jingle of her bells drew his attention back to the fairy at the head of the table, her neutral gaze stoic and stance as rigid as it usually would be. Her brows creased a touch as others turned to her, her annoyance seeping out.

“Well unless someone has something better to add as a solution, this is what we’re working with until then!” she stated.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Pinocchio. Don’t you have anything to add?” Doc asked softly, reeling the woodcarver’s attention to him.

The question was a loaded one. Because yes, he had some shit to say on the matter. He wanted no part of this. The last thing he wanted was to… was to kill something– much less someone. He left all the hunting shit to the local huntsmen, farmers, Lampwick or hell freaking Figaro who he knew was often catching the mice around the house. Being asked now because of… some destiny that didn't even exist was too much. He was supposed to kill a king. He was practically a lamb for slaughter right now, and it seemed only a fair few were perturbed by this matter.

No one was even bothered about hearing his side. Until now, he supposed. But even that was questionable given the look Blue was giving him. God above… he hated this.

He considered saying it, finally admitting the truth, but when his mouth opened a whole other set of words: “Seems you guys have it all figured out, so what's there to even say?”

A cough brought the council's attention to the prince, tapping his fingers expectantly before he spoke. “We do need to let Royaume de Rose know of the situation however. Let them know that aid’s on its way.”

“Good thinking, lad!” The senior knight smiled, receiving an appreciative nod from the teen.

“And another thing,” the boy pulled himself up to his full height in the seat he was in, “I want us to send some scouts out and survey the situation. See what we’re dealing with, exactly.”

Pinocchio had to refrain smiling even a touch. Despite the horror of the situation, and what was proposed earlier, he couldn't help but see more of the ruler that Henry was trying so hard to become in this moment. His authority shone through right now, and it made the woodcarver’s heart swell a little. His mother would be so proud of him…

“I sent out one of my own just last night. She said she’ll be back by sundown with updates.” Blue chimed in, Henry giving her a solemn nod in response.

“Well here’s to hoping,” Grumpy muttered, loud enough to be heard.

The doors to the council chamber suddenly opened, a guard striding in with a single bow on entering.

“Pardon for the intrusion, however, it would seem we had a bit of a… break in.” He stated, pulling out from behind him the child that Pinocchio had swore he left sitting outside. His eyes widened.

“Found her down in the kitchens,” the guard continued to explain.

Pinocchio's heart seized, eyes wide as he looked to the rest of the council. Henry looked surprised as did the dwarves, though Doc looked concerned. The knights looked perturbed as well but Blue… Blue was impossible to read. The emotion was null and void on her face, the fairy looking suddenly stiffer than usual. his chest tightened.

“What was she doing down there anyway?” Henry asked with a gentle tilt of his head.

The guard held up a single bread roll, already half-eaten, as he spoke. “Stealing.”

The minute his hand rose with the roll, the child was immediately trying to scramble up and grab for it, her hand reaching up to grab for it. Her other held what looked to be a piece of cheese. He could hear her whimpering from here as she was trying to get ahold of what the guard was withholding from her. Pinocchio went to stand as Grumpy from across the table scoffed.

“Well if it’s food she wants, she should have it, aye kid?” he pointed out, the other dwarves nodding along.

Henry exchanged a look with him and nodded in agreement. “There’s plenty to spare so I see no harm in doing so. Guards-”

“Take her away.” Blue suddenly spoke up.

The hall fell silent, all except for the kid still trying to get her snack. Pinocchio felt his blood run cold at the statement.

“What?” Happy asked, looking equally as astonished.

“I don’t know how she got in here but she— she shouldn’t be here. Anywhere near here,” Blue continued as she stood up.

Pinocchio was immediately on his feet and moving to the kid before Blue could approach, the kid growing still behind him as he spoke. “The reason she’s here is because of me. I brought her here.”

“You did what?”

“I…actually wanted to ask for your assistance,” he started. He carefully drew himself upwards as Blue glanced behind him, her expression a mixture of… fear? And horror? “She was outside by the market and needed help, so-”

“Pinocchio, what have you brought into this palace?” Blue uttered, the man’s face falling to blankness. “Do you have any idea who that is?!”

“She’s a… no?” He glanced down at the kid. He swore she was standing a little further behind the guard now. And truth be told he couldn’t blame her. He had no idea where any of this came from, like- “She’s just some child with no name, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but that is where you’re wrong, Pinocchio. You don’t know what devastation she may bring.” Blue explained with a sigh as she ran a worried hand over her face. “Gods, it doesn’t surprise me that this war is coming from Camelot if she’s here.”

What in the five realms was she talking about?! He glanced back at the kid who was frantically pulling at the thread of her thread-bare sleeves. Her bottom lip was jutting out and her shoulders shaking, clearly about to cry. Why was Blue… saying all of this? Where did she get this stuff from?

“Blue you’re- you’re not making sense she’s barely old enough to walk and talk, look at her!” he pointed out, looking over again as the kid sniffled, “Does this look like someone with a dark heart to you?”

Blue’s gaze softened sadly. “Evil can come in many forms, my boy.”

He-he–

He gawked. “E-evil?! This is a child we’re talking about! The only wrong she might have done is steal in order to survive!” he exclaimed, uncaring how he sounded now even as his voice broke a touch. Not as he stepped back to shield the child further. In a matter of seconds he felt something press up closer to him, the man not caring to shoot a glare at the guard that tried to approach from behind and pull the kid off. With one hand on her he held the other up, making the man step back.

“That! Is the daughter of the Dark One. The first to ever roam. And one whose very existence has brought such darkness to this very realm. This is not someone you should be trifling with,” Blue continued.

There were many terrible things that Pinocchio would have thought of. Maybe the daughter of the Evil Queen…somehow or Blue was still maybe reeling a little with everything to do with George, hell that she had something to do with that king he was up against. But this was hardly… one of them, especially given how young she was.

First Dark One. There were many things he took to looking into, whenever he was allowed to visit the library or learning at school. Or even when he and Emma were taking the time to do some joint study sessions together. But the history of the Dark Ones wasn’t one of them. Rumplestiltskin was the only one he had ever known about but as much as people spoke ill of him, the boy’s curiosity was always about him and that man. Not so much that he’d seek him out but he was curious. Especially given what was said about him… he wasn’t really doing anything to rain terror over them right now. But even then he’d… well no actually they trusted a child of Dark One’s blood before. So how was this any different? Why was she being punished?!

“That’s the issue with— with her? Because of who her parents were?!” Pinocchio asked.

“No one’s gotten off good around her-”

“Well, maybe it’s all just coincidental,” Pinocchio interjected, his chest unwittingly feeling like lead. Gods, gods why was this happening?! “She’s a child that-that needs help, that needs care, probably more than-more than anyone else! Why would anyone-” he paused and let out a quiet breath.

… No …

“That’s why she was alone out there, isn’t it?” his voice was hushed as he spoke, realisation dawning on his face, “Because people only ever saw the wrongs her parents did?”

“Let the child go.” Blue stated, Pinocchio shaking his head as he brought the kid just a little closer. Blue took another step forward and he took one back. “Pinocchio, it’s for the good of everyone that you do this. For everyone’s sake, you need to step aside.”

There was a sound of scraping chairs, Pinocchio noticing the dwarves on their feet now too. Gods, he didn’t want to fight if this is what it was coming to, but-

“I- I can’t. I’m sorry. Not while my own conscience is still trying to guide me right now.” he stated quietly.

And I'm sure Jiminy would have agreed… he wouldn’t throw her to the wolves like this either, would he?

Blue sighed, that saddened look on her face once more reappearing as she spoke: “I’m sure you mean well, but I need you to understand that your contact with that child? Will only bring you, and those around you, tragedy.”

A light shone beside the statue of the king and queen, the outline of a figure growing more solid as she stepped out of the glimmering sparks. Her gown was dark and pointed on her shoulders and her neck collar was wide, covered in sequins. Dark hair was pulled up in a bun as she glanced around. The snow covered area didn’t really stick out to her much and she couldn’t help but curl her lip up in a snarl as she observed.

Where in the world did her son drop her?

The Evil Queen looked up at the statue, unimpressed at the sight of the two royals carved in stone. She knew back at home they were still fighting off her little curse right now (whoops?) and trying to find a means of waking the other up. Yet over here they were painted as those great heroes of the realm everyone claimed them to be. Her eyes were drawn to the bronze plaque underneath them which read:

ON THIS SPOT SNOW WHITE
AND PRINCE DAVID
HEROICALLY DEFEATED
THE EVIL QUEEN

“Are you serious?” she muttered, with a roll of her eyes. There was a rustle behind her, Regina looking behind her at the man that had halted in his tracks with a crossbow in hand. He shot a bolt at her, the woman making quick work of catching it. Without a chance to say a word she watched the man flee, hearing his screams of her title for all to hear. Her grip on the bolt tightened, letting the flames growing in her palm incinerate it to ashes. Great, so over here she was still evil. Some fresh start, you guys. Thanks!

She figured “Fresh Start” meant being sent to some place no one knew her. Where her name was written in no books or story, where the words “The Evil Queen” and “Regina” weren’t synonymous like they seemed to be here. But it seemed “fresh start” didn’t mean that for those guys. And over here it would seem she wasn’t even going to get a chance to explain herself, who she was and that she was better.

What kind of fresh start was this? She’d been through this whole ordeal back in Storybrooke already. Was she really meant to rebuild all of that again?

She huffed, as she marched away from the statue, annoyed but her mind set. She was going to show these people that she was good now. She will show that she was worth their time and worth their forgiveness even if it was the last thing she did!

Chapter Text

— 1961 —

The woods were quiet at night. Always were. He never really enjoyed walking through them, not since what happened the last time he was walking around outside in the middle of the night… on his own…

… It felt strange to be out here in the first place, after spending the last few years part of a circus ring. The only reason he wasn’t there now was because it was soon discovered that their little wonder beast was actually a two-legged living puppet under the fur and cloven hooves. To say they were surprised was an understatement.

Pinocchio hadn’t run as fast as he did then. It was incomparable even to his escape of Pleasure Island, yet here he was now…. Alone again. Out in the world again, with no home, no papa, no—

“Zvezda?” Pinocchio called up tentatively, his gaze glued to the sky, “Zvezda!”

Nothing.

The young boy frowned as he stared up at the many stars above. He had hoped she would at least answer… She would usually answer…

“She’s not coming, Pinocchio.”

The voice from behind him caught the puppet off-guard as he jumped back, looking back with alarm. Wearing her usual blue and pink dress with a pale blue glow surrounding her, Blue stood still and unmoving, looking down at the boy in front of her. Her expression was void of any pleasure, something Pinocchio was used to but as he remembered what he had on his head right now he couldn’t help but shrink away from the fairy’s gaze.

The effects of Pleasure island had mostly worn away now, but the long donkey ears and tail remained still. He kind of wished it was Zvezda that answered now… maybe none of this would be as awkward as it was. It would be awkward but… But maybe a little less…

Still recovering from his initial shock, the wooden boy looked up with a smile, nervous as it may have seemed. “Blue! I… I wasn’t sure who else to call because you weren’t…responding,” he finished lamely.

The fairy let out a sigh, one that made Pinocchio want nothing more than to reel back more. “I know, Pinocchio. But you weren’t reachable,” she explained, the disapproval in her tone forcing the boy to drop his gaze to the floor. “Pleasure Island isn’t a place a fairy can step into, I’m afraid.”

Pinocchio looked back up and tilted his head curiously. “Why not?”

His words were met with silence, Blue looking thoughtful before she looked away.

“Zvezda isn’t coming.”

Pinocchio blinked. “Where is she though? Is she busy?”

“She is no longer, is where she is,” Blue continued, eyes narrowing.

“No— what? What does that mean?” he asked but got no response. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like what Blue was saying. Was she- did- could fairies die? Is that what Blue was implying what- “Blue. Please, what happened? What do you mean she’s no longer?” he asked, a little more desperately than he would have liked to admit.

Blue sighed once more, frustration and bitterness clear as she turned to look down at the marionette. “Sometimes there are choices made that can… have a very severe effect on those involved,” she explained, her expression unwavering.

Choices… was she… Did she mean his? Is this what this was all about? Had—

Pinocchio reached up, feeling at his ears. He could feel… what felt like the inside of his chest burning. A strange sensation but it hurt alot. Was this his fault? Did his time— had he— did he have a hand in this? With Lampwick? No, Lampwick couldn’t have been responsible for this, it was just him it was… i-it…

“I’m-I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking worriedly up at the blue fairy. “I can make it right. Can I try to make it right? I can fix this and do better I swear-”

“There’s nothing anyone can do,” Blue cut in, allowing the boy one last glance before she unfurled her wings. “In many cases, one simply has to live with the choices they’ve made.” The blue glow grew brighter engulfing the fairy in it entirely as she shrunk back to her usual, tiny size and flew off into the open air.

Pinocchio stood still, his gaze distant as his knees gave in beneath him. She was gone too now…? For good?

The same apology replayed through his head over and over even though he knew it was hopeless. It was all… hopeless.

The boy’s bottom lip wobbled tremendously as he drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head in them, shielding himself from the sudden, far more lonely world.

— PRESENT —

If he had been told that today would practically end with him trying to stop a kid from going to prison or thrown out onto the streets if not exiled, then he would have laughed, called it a cruel, funny joke and left. Never in his life did he consider that a possibility, and yet here they were now, dancing that very dance he never thought would occur.

Pinocchio’s hold on the toddler behind him hadn’t lessened, and as Blue took another step closer, he took another step back.

“This is insane!” Grumpy called out. “How the hell are you making a toddler out as the reason for a war!”

“It’s just the way it is, I’m afraid..” Blue pointed out, her attention still on the woodcarver. “Some decisions that are made can have serious effects on those involved.”

The woodcarver bristled. He’d heard those words before, and it made his chest burn. Just like it did all those years ago. It upset him believing it was directed at him but seeing it directed at someone else now for something they couldn’t even control—

At least he wasn’t alone in this argument…

Pinocchio swallowed thickly as he stared the fairy down. This was not a position he had wanted to find himself in. But feeling the child’s hold around his leg, he refused to back down. “Blue I don’t— know where you got all this but this is wrong,” he pointed out.

Blue sighed. “You need to understand that I’m doing this only because it is the right thing to do. And sometimes they aren’t all that pleasant for people involved. Guards-”

Before anyone could take another step a bright flash of light burst between Pinocchio and Blue. Pinocchio stepped back, shielding his eyes. The light faded and standing between them was a trio of individuals. The tallest of them, stumbled back with a grunt, tripping over and falling right against the woodcarver.

“Lampwick!” Pinocchio exclaimed, pushing the kid out of the way as the two men fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, Lampwick letting out a groan. Pinocchio looked down in surprise at his semi-conscious lover currently lying on top of him, immediately craning his neck to see where the kid had gone.

The kid had scrambled to her feet (or in actuality… paws now) and took off with one of the guards reaching to grab for her. Having gotten to her first, the dwarves however stood in front of the guard, shielding the creature from view behind a defensive stance and pickaxes.

“I wouldn’t try your luck against this, tough guy,” Pinocchio heard Grumpy warn. Just the knowledge that at least the child was out of harm’s way for the time being was enough to make him slump back down, still trapped under the weight of the taller man.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Blue’s shrill cry echoed through the chamber.

“Oh don’t get your wings in a knot, Blue. Aren’t you happy to see us? Together, on top of that?” came another all-to familiar voice.

Malvina?!

Pinocchio’s eyes shot wide open once more.

“Zvezda. How-”

“Ah, wrong name, honey. Have you forgotten that Zvezda is no longer valid?” Malvina scorned, as she stepped a little closer to Blue and away from the purple-vested man next to her.

“Pity really. Malvina is such a gorgeous choice too, if I may say so myself,” he said, looking over at Pinocchio with a grin on his face.

And Pierrot was here too?! Well, he wasn’t sure how this was about to go-

“Well this is-” Blue cleared her throat. “A interesting surprise, however we’ll have to save this talk for another time-”

“Why?” Malvina asked. “What could be so important that you need to put this lovely little reunion aside? Wait actually, don’t tell me. I think I can guess.” Her voice turned from sweet to sinister, Pinocchio’s heart picking up speed as she glanced down at both him and Lampwick still on the ground. Her expression was cold and unwavering as she turned back to the Blue Fairy and stepped forward. “Just what shit are you pulling him into again?”

Fuck. Oh, fuck, no, that was NOT good-

“We are in the middle of a war. I’d advise you to step back and not interrupt this meeting,” Blue stated.

“Oh suddenly you’re a battle strategist?! Since when?!” Pinocchio heard Malvina scoff unkindly as he worked to pull himself out from underneath Lampwick.

“Since never!” Henry shouted, Pinocchio looking over as he scrambled out from under his fiancé. “If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s her! I can plan this stuff with Lancelot and the rest just fine!”

“Ah, so bossing the Fae courts was no longer enough for you?” Malvina challenged.

“Seems she needed an upgrade, moonflower,” Pierrot added and, even if he couldn’t see how he was looking right now, he was sure the man was smirking.

“Yeah, by turning a whole kingdom into her own pawn,” Malvina added.

“I will not have either of you talk to me like that, you have no right!!” Blue hissed as she loomed over the both of them, her wings fluttering threateningly. Pinocchio refrained from trying to shrink back himself. And yet, Malvina stood defiant as always as she merely pulled Pierrot behind her and glared up at the fairy above them.

“After what you did to me?! And my people?! I damn well will speak to you how I like! And I will not have you ruin another individual just because you can!” she exclaimed loudly.

Energy crackled through the air, Pinocchio’s hands nervously balling into fists as he watched the sparks weave around Malvina’s. But before any further words and actions could be taken, the door’s of the council chamber were once more pulled open, a single knight bearing only his steel shoulder pads walking inside. The burst of magic fell flat as both the fairies turned to the man. The dwarves, still facing off with one of the guards, looked over as well. Pinocchio let out a sigh of relief as Lancelot stopped, looking between him and Lampwick on the ground and the rest.

“What happened here?!” Lancelot asked.

“Do you want that list alphabetised while we’re at it?” Grumpy huffed as Lancelot made his way to the men still on the floor..

“We started talking but then the guards came in, Blue said something about an evil child and then these guys showed up,” Henry exclaimed as he jogged to the centre.

Pinocchio, now on his feet, helped the knight hoist up his lanky boyfriend, who still seemed a little weak-kneed from the teleportation spell.

“Evil child? What evil child?” Lancelot asked.

“You of all people should know of whom I’m talking about, Lancelot.” Blue stated.

“Are you talking about-” he stopped, easing out from underneath Lampwick as he looked over to where the dwarves were.

Pinocchio stiffened, feeling Lampwick shift and look up at last, but the woodcarver’s eyes were only on Lancelot as he wandered over to where the dwarves were with the kid.

“That’s impossible! How did she-”

“Guards, have her escorted out.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Grumpy exclaimed, glaring at the fairy that had issued the command.

Pinocchio’s eyes widened once more. “Blue, this isn’t fair!”

“Everyone stop!” Lancelot commanded, looking to the guards that approached. “At ease, men, let me handle this,” he added.

Pinocchio watched with bated breath as they returned to their positions. The dwarves were still hovering over the kid from what he could see, their stance not shifting even as Lancelot tried to glance around them. Pinocchio watched warily as well, feeling Lampwick pull off of him now yet remained at his side. He was sure Lancelot meant no harm, given the way he spoke until now, but he couldn't help but feel a little afraid as he watched him.

His hand found Lampwick’s, his fingers looking for permission to curl around the other’s, which his fiancé granted and reciprocated the gesture.

“Bethan..?” Pinocchio heard Lancelot say.

“Bethan?” he repeated, looking up at his partner. The man could only shrug, equally perplexed.

“The kid's got a name then?” Grumpy asked, as the toddler peaked out from behind his legs.

“Lancy-lot…?” she croaked.

Lancelot smiled. “Hey, kiddo, it’s been a moment, huh?”

She crept out, all watching with held-in breaths as she got closer to the knight. A smile replaced the fear as she threw her arms around the knight’s middle. Pinocchio let out the breath he was holding as he heard Lancelot chuckle.

“How on earth did you get here?” the knight asked.

“Wanted to find you!!” she called out.

“You came all the way out here for me?” Lancelot asked, still grinning as he brushed her messy fringe back. The kid nodded and he sighed as he picked her up.

“Lancelot. What are you doing?” Blue asked warily.

“Greeting an old friend.”

The fairy’s eyes widened. “Friend?!”

The knight’s eyes looked colder as he stood up and turned to her. But his expression shifted to sadness as he sighed. “Listen, I don't know what truths and lies have been taking root here already, but if it's the same ones like back in our homeland, a lot of people seem to forget one crucial detail about this child.”

“And what would that be?” she quizzed.

“Who her father is.” Lancelot looked at the child he was holding, as she rested her head on his shoulder. He raised his head a little higher as he continued to speak: “While she may be born to the first human bearer of darkness, she is equally born to the first human bearer of light. It is the same man whose praises were sung just last night.”

Pinocchio puzzled silently. There had been a lot of shit mentioned last night really, the whole impromptu meeting mostly a blur as he tried to parcel out a name from within the mess.

“Merlin?” Lampwick asked next to him, Pinocchio looking over and seeing the knight nod in response.

“That’s right. The misfortune people claim she brings has always been baseless conjecture and cruel rumours. Her mother is the only thing people would focus on. And so she suffered. In all the years I've interacted with her, there has been nothing but joy in my life.” Lancelot explained, smiling at the kid whose eyes were closing peacefully.

“And yet you stand here, a banished knight from his homeland.” Blue pointed out.

Lancelot frowned. “That was a consequence created at the expense of my own actions. I will not place the fault in a child who’s heritage she can’t control and she herself has done no wrong.”

Pinocchio breathed a sigh of relief, a quiet “Thank you.” leaving his lips as he dropped his head on Lampwick’s shoulder.

Thank you.

“Evil is never born, no matter what one may be led to believe. It’s made.” he shifted the kid’s weight on his hips as he walked closer to the rest of the group, the kid’s eyes fluttering open again. “I’ve nothing but fond memories with this child. And no bad luck or unfortunate occurrence will change that.”

“You left though…” Bethan commented.

Pinocchio watched Lancelot’s expression grow downcast as he looked at her. “I know, and I’m sorry. I had no choice. But it’s good to see you again, Bethan.”

“So is that her name?” Doc called out as he walked to the knight’s other side and reached a gentle hand up to the kid.

Pinocchio smiled as he saw her wide eyes land on the dwarf and press her index finger against his. Her attention was quietly drawn to Lancelot, as she poked at his greying coils of hair.

“Bethan is the name we picked out together. After a good few hours of looking through a book.” Lancelot chuckled, glancing curiously up at the child. “She liked it the most so we stuck with it. Right, little bee?”

“Wh’ happen’ to your hair?” she asked, Pinocchio withholding a chuckle at how perplexed she was.

Lancelot huffed gently, “I’ve been growing older, kid. It’s been years since we last saw each other.”

Years?

Bethan’s smile faded, her gaze dropping. “Oh. Righ’.” Her expression was unreadable as she fiddled with the steel on the man’s shoulder.

“You keep saying years. But how come she’s—” Henry gestured lightly at the toddler, “small?”

“No one knows. Different assumptions sprouted around. No one can agree on why she’s still just a child. She just… simply doesn’t grow,” Lancelot explained.

That explained a lot then. How she was Merlin’s daughter just as much as the First Dark One’s. He was sure that would have equated her to being at least a hundred years old if not more. His gut twisted in knots as he watched the kid, now distracted by the patterns on the armour she was tracing to notice anything else. He remembered how agonisingly long it was being stuck as a puppet for a couple of decades. Never growing… never changing. It was like you were stuck in time and watching everyone and everything change around you. Watching that happen over the course of centuries? That sounded like a cruel, cruel curse. If she were at least an adult maybe it would have been more tolerable, but a toddler just barely starting her life?

Gods, no one deserved a fate like that…

His hand gripped Lampwick’s just a little tighter, his betrothed laying his head on top of his.

The door behind them opened and the group looked back and saw one of the guards walk inside.

“Pardon the intrusion. A-again,” he called, giving a short bow.

“Yes?” Henry asked as he shouldered past everyone.

“I was told to present this to the court. Said it contained an important message?” The guard presented a translucent bottle and held it out to the prince. Before Henry could take it however, the bottle was levitated from the guard’s hand and past the, now very irritated, prince.

“Thank you,” Blue quipped with a nod, oblivious to the judgemental gazes several had given her.

Blue worked to shake what was out of the bottle, her gaze narrowing as whatever was inside appearing to be stuck. Pinocchio heard Malvina scoff and watched her pull Pierrot to where he and Lampwick stood, the former-fae asking them both quietly if they were okay. Pinocchio gave her a quiet nod, looking down curiously when Lampwick nudged him and held something out. He smiled at the hastily wrapped sandwich and tucked it into his coat pocket, looking up when he heard Doc speak.

“So what does it say?”

“Can’t… seem to get it out, it’s— there’s something soft inside,” Blue grunted.

With a huff she pulled her wand out, magic twinkling into the bottle. She carefully let go of the bottle as she started levitating out what was within. As though the bottle had been uncorked the moment the item fell out, a piercing scream filled the hall. Pinocchio recoiled, his hands over his ears and eyes screwing shut as the deafening shriek continued to ring, other shouts of alarm resounding around him. Those were nothing though; they were nothing compared to the glaring pit of nothing that he felt forming in his chest, as though the wails from the bottle were trying to hollow him out from the inside.

“Shut it up!!” Grumpy yelled.

“I can’t!” Blue called out.

The cries continued until they faded out into nothing but an echo, leaving nothing but horror in its wake. Pinocchio’s eyes opened, seeing the same shock etched on his companions’ faces.

“What in the realms was that?!” Lampwick exclaimed.

“An omen,” Blue murmured, her voice quiet and fearful.

“Of what?!”

“Of death. That was the song of a banshee,” Malvina uttered faintly as she leaned back against Pierrot.

“I’ve only heard folk tales of the banshee’s scream but to hear it in these halls—” Lancelot trailed off.

A quiet sniffle filled the hall as Bethan began to cry, her hands still covering her ears.

“That was a banshee?!” Grumpy demanded.

Blue nodded silently, Pinocchio looking down at what had previously fallen out of the bottle. It lay on the floor, small and yet it seemed almost… human-like. The Blue Fairy waved her wand over it, the rest watching as it was enveloped in a pale blue glow.

With the spell having faded what had been in the bottle was up on display for all to see. Before them lay a fairy, donning a pink dress with gold lacing, patterned around her skirt in the form of small glimmering stars. Her face looked petrified, bright glassy eyes wide open and fearful and yet without a breath life within them. Her wings were disfigured and crumpled, the fae most likely having gotten picked out of the sky. But it was what remained of her bodice that the woodcarver found the most disturbing.

Carefully engraved into the centre her chest was a double-headed eagle, its wings spread out across her body. The blood had soaked into the material she had on, darkening it so it was almost black. Bile rose to Pinoccio’s throat as he stared before glancing away, taking shaky breaths as he willed the horrifying sight away.

“O-oh my gods!” he whispered.

“No, Sugar Plum,” he heard Blue murmur.

“....Is this the fairy that you sent out as a scout?” Doc asked.

“My other scouts were out of the question at the time,” she explained.

“So– so you sent the sugar plum fairy?!” Henry piped up, Pinocchio carefully trying to look around the desecrated fairy. He noted the boy’s frustration even as the fairy turned to him.

“She's resourceful. There's no one more observant on my staff. Goodness knows what happened to get her caught.”

The kid’s whimpers hadn’t ceased, attention not on the fairy that was now eyeing both her and the knight holding her. In fact, they increased, her head burying in the crook of Lancelot’s neck, her shoulders shaking as she cried, the knight wrapping an arm around her as he shielded her from the judgement of the fae. Pinocchio’s breath hitched, as he glanced down at the dead fairy again before back at the kid.

Shit. Shit, shit, she shouldn’t be here, why was she still here?!

“Take the kid and go,” Pinocchio murmured as he nudged Lampwick.

“What?”

He was sure Lampwick had looked over but in his daze he was barely paying attention, eyes glued to the child.

“You, Malvina, and Pierrot need to go home. Right now. Take the kid with you as well,” Pinocchio continued, breaking his gaze away to look up at the man. The same disturbed look clouded his fiancé’s gaze, alongside a look of hesitation. It was after hearing the kid take another stuttering breath that Lampwick sighed and pat Pinocchio’s shoulder. Malvina moved a little quicker as she took the screaming toddler from Lancelot, undisturbed even as she began to thrash, before she marched back to the group.

“Take her and go, I can teleport you back.”

“Not again!” Lampwick whined, but his anguish was much ignored, as Malvina placed the squirming kid into his arms. Pinocchio cringed as Lampwick struggled to hold her and yet Malvina remained unphased as she blew a gentle breath at the both of them. Speckles of stardust sparkled around the child, Bethan almost immediately calming down. Pinocchio let out a breath as Lampwick settled the toddler against his side. Satisfied, Malvina waved her hand, making the trio disappear in a burst of light.

She turned to the council and Pinocchio in turn, her gaze moving from Blue to Pinocchio before she spoke.

“I’m waiting outside for whenever you finish up here, okay? No buts.” she added, cutting back any remarks Pinocchio could make. He sighed as he watched her leave, before turning back to the gathered group around him, as the discussion rose up once more.

Leaning against the wall opposite to the door, a woman donning a black vest over her white blouse sat on the floor holding a stick at the end of which was tied a couple of feathers. She bobbed the make-shift toy up and down, prompting the large cat in front of her to sit up on his back legs in an attempt to grab for it. His purring was loud as he chased the feather around on the floor and earned himself little chuckles from the lady. Her attention on him remained until she felt the familiar thrum of magic fill the room. She looked up, curious as the light grew brighter and larger before evaporating and leaving a pair behind. She was just about to greet them both when she watched the taller of the two lean back and stumble, crashing into the wall behind him and falling to the floor, laying almost motionless where he was.

“Whoa there, Lampwick!” Grace exclaimed, jumping to her feet as the second man moved to help as well. He picked the kid up that had rolled out from Lampwick’s hold and was sniffling under her breath while she grabbed the ginger-haired man by the arm, grunting as she hoisted him back up onto his feet. Still wobbly, he ended up draping himself over the woman, Grace grimaced as she worked to hold both of their weights up.

“Fuck magic I want not’in’ to do with any of it anymore,” he muttered, earning himself a laugh from the woman.

“And yet your betrothed is practically made out of magic,” she commented, feeling him stiffen over her shoulder. “You alive?” she asked right as he pulled himself off.

“How the hell did you get inside?” he demanded, his knees buckling and almost making him fall again.

She carefully grabbed his arm in order to steady him, though her voice remained nonchalant. “Don’t act so surprised when you were the one that gave me the tools to get in.”

“Oh for peeve’s sake!” he grunted as he yanked his arm out of her hand and marched unsteadily towards the door. Grace snorted as he threw the door open and glared down at the lock, a noise of frustration leaving the man as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you broke in? Again?!”

She shrugged, her smirk growing. “And it’ll happen again until you finally give me the key to this dump!”

“Don’t be rude!” he quipped back, nodding towards the other man and child. “We've got guests over, have some manners.”

“You first, Wickers.” Grace hummed, as she watched him move back to the stranger duo. Before she even considered asking about the aforementioned guests, however, she spotted the grey pony standing by the door. She was crouching immediately, her eyes gleaming, and a wide grin spreading across her face. “Iskra heyyyyy! Come here, baby!!” She patted the floor beckoningly. Iskra squealed happily as she pranced inside and was immediately engulfed in the woman’s embrace, practically pulled off her hooves and reclining on the floor with her. A fate she happily accepted as she flopped down in her lap. “How’s my special little girl?”

“Stop spoiling her, she’s not a pet.”

“Oh boo you’re so boring with her! Isn’t he?” she continued to coo as she squished the pony’s cheeks. Iskra let out a snort, whickering quietly as her cheek wings flapped, all the while gleefully hopping on the spot as Grace continued to pet her. Lampwick could only sigh and roll his eyes.

“Alright kid, come on.”

Grace looked up as Lampwick spoke, looking over as he started walking off with the kid. Grace’s brows arched upwards as she stood up.

“What happened to manners, Wick?” she asked, hearing the man groan and look back at her.

“Could ask ya the same thing, Ace.” he sassed with a glare. “Given you just broke into my house.”

“Eh! You could at least have the decency to introduce this guy and this—” she gestured vaguely at the toddler currently curling up in the man’s arms.

“It’s a child, Grace. That’s a word you can use, you know,” Lampwick deadpanned, Grace rolling her eyes at his words.

“Well if you two are done bickering I would certainly not be opposed to a proper introduction,” the other man quipped, arms crossed. He didn’t seem upset given the grin on his face and the light snickers.

Lampwick sighed, as he pointed between the two of them. “Right. Pierrot, this is Grace. Grace—Pierrot. This is the guy that married the fairy Occhi mentioned a few times.”

Ah, that’s who this was!

“An’ this is jus’ a child Pinoke’s and I found earlier,” Lampwick added, as Grace smiled up at the kid and turned her attention to Pierrot.

“Hi! It’s great to put a name to a face at last!” Grace smiled as she held her hand out, shaking his.

“Likewise!”

In the time they were talking, Lampwick was already making his way upstairs with the toddler still in his arms. With a quick word to Pierrot, offering him a seat at the table she jogged up after him, bounding two steps at a time as she called out to him:

“Hey! Where are you going with that kid?”

“Getting her something clean to wear at least,” Lampwick explained as he walked into one of the rooms.

“I feel she’d do with a bath first at least,” Grace pointed out once she caught up to him.

He scoffed. “Yeah, don't think I can do that.”

“Oh, but you’re gonna help her get changed right?” she sassed back, watching him put the girl down before opening the wardrobe. She sighed as he started rummaging and her frown set in deeper. “Gods, let me-”

“I think I can take care of this, Grace,” he stated and shooed her back with a wave of his hand.

“Oh please, you were 13 and still couldn’t dress yourself properly,” Grace scoffed as she crouched next to him ignoring his indignance as she began to carefully place the clothing around in a much neater pile.

“Can you fuck off?!” he exclaimed, earning himself an unimpressed look from the woman.

“You mind not cursing around the kid? Gods, in your 40’s and still learning how to behave!” Grace huffed, seeing the child growing stiffer out of the corner of her eye. She shot her an assuring grin as she added: “Naw it’s alright kiddo, this tall beanstalk is as harmless as a fly. He can’t even hit a ball straight, much less someone else.”

“I sure can!”

“He’s a liar,” she winked, Lampwick grunting as he trudged out of the room. “Yeah that’s right go back downstairs and smoke while your fiancé’s not around to stop you! And get the water heated on the fire too actually!” she heard him huff from afar, satisfied with the answer as she turned back to the child in front of her. “Now! Let’s see what we can do about this, aye? Can’t have a lass around looking like that now can we?”

She crouched back down as she worked her way through the wardrobe.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Her question was met with silence.

Huh!

“Well where are you from, hm? How’d you wound up with these guys out there? Lampwick's the type to not notice a snake until it bites him, so I assume Pinocchio was the one who had something to do with this?” she continued, looking back and seeing the kid still unmoving from where she was standing. She had her head down and was toying with the hem of the fabric she wore, Grace noting the tears in the cloth.

Hm.

As the silence dragged on Grace turned back to the wardrobe, hearing the quiet scuffling of the child shuffling her feet over the wooden floorboards. Shy this one, huh? Is all she could think as her search had her placing the stacked clothes onto the floor. “Hmmm where’d that man put that old stuff?” she muttered under her breath as she continued to wade through. She’d assumed it would be in the back of the cupboard but so far she had no such luck finding it. With the wardrobe now empty she tutted, placing everything she had taken out back inside before she moved to the large chest of drawers and looked in there.

“And what of your parents? Are your folks not around right now or something?” she asked curiously.

“Don’t got ‘em.” the kid mumbled.

Grace paused and looked down. “Sorry?”

“Said I don’ got ‘em.” she mumbled again, still not looking up. “Ama died. Apa don’ exis’.”

The woman couldn’t help but frown as she turned back to her sorting. Didn’t exist? What? Was he dead? A deadbeat like some assholes out there? “What do you mean he doesn’t exist?” she asked.

“He’s a tree.” came the answer.

“I— see,” Grace trailed off, trying to hide her bewilderment but with little success.

Okay you learn something new every day. Some parents are dead, some refuse to show their face but apparently there’s a new kind that are actually trees. Alright. Okay. She can accept that, sure.

Her eyes widened on spotting a green vest, lifting it up and seeing the red trousers too.

“Aha! Here it is!” she exclaimed loudly as she pulled the parts of the outfit out. She held them up for the kid to see, looking between her and the stuff with a wide grin. The child’s expression hadn’t changed, only looking up with the same wide-eyed yet expressionless look she had been holding until now.

Grace glanced between the items and her again, cringing inwards as she held the vest up higher, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “It’ll probably be a bit… big. But we can make do! Now come on! We can get you nice and cleaned up and I’m sure you’ll feel a whole lot better once you do.” She pointed out as she folded the clothes over her arm and shut the drawer.

“Why though?” the child mumbled, still unmoving from the spot she was standing in. “Aren’t you gonna make me go away?”

Grace’s frown deepened as she looked back. “Why on earth would I do that? Why on earth would anyone do that?” she asked, watching the kid scuffle her feet. Her glare remained glued to the floorboards underneath her feet, her movements growing more rapid the longer Grace held her silence. The frown the child had on her expression pulled down even more.

Grace didn’t like this.

She didn’t like this at all.

She sighed crouched down in front of the kid, seeing her glance up a little. “Look, despite how he is, I know Lampwick and he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble of bringing you here and insisting he’s going to dress you up all nice like he wanted to, just to put you back out on the streets. He knows better than anyone what it’s like to be out there. As does Pinocchio from what I was told,” she added, shrugging as the kid’s surprised eyes finally met hers. “They’re gonna see to it that you’re taken care of first, alright?” she added with a smile.

Slowly a smile bloomed on the kid as well—the first she had seen since she showed up—her eyes creasing most of all as she nodded. Grace huffed and patted her shoulder. “Now come on! I’m sure the water downstairs is ready for use so we can get you all cleaned up!” She held her hand out for the child to take, letting the small fingers curl around her index finger.

— 1979 —

The boy froze, hearing the sound of a twig cracking close by. He didn’t think he ventured all that far from the farm he had been hanging around and helping out at yet. At least… he hoped he hadn’t?

Pinocchio looked back, seeing the buildings and field not too far off beyond the trees. So, he wasn’t all that deep inside yet.

Another rustle had him turning back to the woods, feet frozen to the floor as he watched. He didn’t… think it could be anything dangerous. The last thing he remembered encountering in this part of the woods was that snake from a few weeks back. But otherwise it had been relatively peaceful. Another shake of the bushes had Pinocchio looking around once more.

“Who’s there?!” he called out.

“You first!!” called back a voice soon enough.

To his left!

Pinocchio looked over, seeing the man with his back to him. He had a white tunic on from what he could tell but the voice he was…. He was so sure he had heard it before.

“...P-Pierrot?” He crept up slowly behind him. The young man ahead of him froze.

“Pierrot? There’s no Pierrot, only… S-someone not Pierrot!” the man stammered, Pinocchio smiling softly.“Where are you, mysterious voiceholder?!”

Pinocchio stopped just a little distance from him. “Behind you.”

The boy had half the brain to at least jump back when the older boy turned around, the flash of a knife stealing away the younger kid’s breath as Pierrot jammed it into the tree. “Oh.” is all the young boy could say, as he watched Pierrot turn around.

Recognition flooded Pierrot’s gaze, a grin spreading across his face and the fear was replaced by relief. “Pinocchio!”

Pinocchio grinned back. “Pierrot!!”

He was immediately swept off his feet, as Pierrot hugged him tightly, spinning them around on the spot with a laugh.

“Goodness, I thought you were something else!” he exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you!”

“And I you!” the boy beamed, as he was placed back down on the ground. “What are you doing out here though? Did you finally-”

“I wish! While I am free of the Fire-eater, alas, I’m in no better place than I was with him,” the bard sighed heavily. “In fact, I wound up someplace worse.”

Pinocchio’s eyes widened. “Worse?!”

Pierrot nodded gravely. “Turns out the Fire-eater has a younger brother. Ever heard the name Mstislav? Or his Puppet Show of Wonders that goes around?”

He certainly hadn’t heard such a name before. Much less about such a puppet show. He figured maybe they were too far off from the nearby village or something. That could be it.

He shook his head.

“Yeah you probably wouldn’t have,” Pierrot mused, “A lot of people tend to call him Karabas-Barabas anyway. And gods help us all; he lives up to it.”

“What do you mean?” the young boy’s frown deepened. “Why? What does he do-”

“He’s renowned for that puppet theatre of his, his puppets so lifelike they seem almost alive. But that’s the thing though: They are alive, Pinocchio. They’re not puppets. He was so determined to keep his shows so real he’s been using real people. And I was among them.”

Pinocchio froze, his breath caught in his throat. “They’re… really real?” he choked out.

“They are… I’ve been living among them since— ” his expression grew saddened, and eyes closed. “Gods, my dear Malvina… my morning star, how I miss thee…”

Pinocchio watched the older boy bow his head, grief so prominent in his usually happy gaze. He carefully reached out and patted the other’s arm awkwardly. It’s not like he could do anything else, could he? Actually… What could he do, really?

“Who’s… Malvina?” he asked.

He watched as Pierrot looked up at the sky, his smile distant and remorseful as he sighed heavily.

“The most stunning individual. But alas someone deemed our love unworthy and tore us apart. I was sent to Karabas’ theatre and I’ve no idea where she may be…” he shook his head, the distant look vanishing as he looked down at the boy once more. “R-regardless though, that’s a story for another time for this present one is dire. People have been suspecting what Karabas is doing and he’s sought out a deal with the Dark One to turn all the folks in his show into puppets.”

“Wh-!” he didn’t have time to finish as the boy grabbed his arm and pulled him along, letting go only as Pinocchio steadied his walk next to him.

“The Dark One showed him a couple he already had in his arsenal… he-he reanimated them. And plans to do that with the rest with an even more powerful spell. Gods bless Arlekin for helping me get out but we need to get the others or— or find help.” Pierrot explained.

Pinocchio stopped, and Pierrot looked back curiously.

“Well maybe— maybe I know someone that could help!” the wooden boy pointed out with a small smile.

“You do?!”

“Mhm.” Pinocchio nodded as he looked up at the stars. The brightest, one almost the shade of blue, is the one he focused on. But as he went to close his eyes and call for her, the distant sound of barking made him stop. He looked back, hearing it getting closer. “What’s that?”

“Dogs… Shit.” Pierrot uttered, Pinocchio looking up at him and seeing the horror etched into the boy’s expression. “They’ve found me! They’ve found us!!”

— PRESENT —

Without a moment’s haste, the second the meeting had ended, Malvina had grabbed Pinocchio by the arm and escorted him out, offering no one the chance to leave any further comments in his wake. The only reason she didn’t immediately resort to magic this time was at the insistence of the woodcarver wanting to at least get the horse he had left in one of the stalls. She obliged but only megrely, because the moment he had led the steed out into the open she had them immediately all transported back to Collodi.

Here they were now walking through the streets and down the road to where the little rundown wooden cottage of the man lay. No words had been spoken since they left. Occasionally Malvina would glance up, the need to speak up and ask the one question that was on her mind but seeing the disturbed look on Pinocchio’s still pale face she reluctantly decided against it. Better to give him space… at least for the moment.

She waited patiently as the man turned the key in the hole, frowning when it didn’t seem to really turn. He tested the knob, sighing quietly when the door opened, gesturing inside for Mal to step through. She smiled softly and walked in, the sound of the firepit greeted her ears as did the warmth, Malvina letting out a quiet breath as she looked around. Pierrot was sitting at the kitchen table while Lampwick was by the counter, both engrossed in some small talk they were having. She frowned, realising that there was one final person… missing.

“Where’s the kid?” Malvina called out, watching both the men pause mid-conversation.

“Upstairs. Grace is currently taking care of her,” Lampwick explained, eyes still down on the chopping board he was using.

“Grace is here?” Pinocchio asked as he walked in after Malvina.

“Look at the lock if you think I’m lying,” Lampwick snorted. Malvina glanced curiously behind her as Pinocchio paused and looked down at the lock again, watching the man chuckle softly.

“I swear, at this rate, I’m going to buy multiple spares if she keeps doing this,” Lampwick continued to mutter, even as Pinocchio walked past the woman and made his way to him.

“Or you could just give her the key,” Pinocchio hummed and wrapped his arms around his side.

“In your dreams.” the other quipped back, his process of chopping carrots coming to a momentary halt as he pressed a light kiss to Pinocchio's temple.

Malvina smiled as she made her way to where Pierrot was sitting, a tuxedo feline sitting at his side. The cat let out a curious ‘mrrow?’ as she sat down next to the man, who immediately wrapped an arm around her as well. Figaro was immediately sitting in her lap, kneading at her skirt and purring all the while.

There was the sound of footsteps thumping up above, travelling closer to the staircase before making their way down as a light-haired woman quickly made her way down to the bottom floor. Malvina looked on curiously at the individual, noting the garments that she held in one arm.

“Lampwick? Where’s the-” she stopped at the bottom step, Malvina looking over at the couple by the counter. The moment Pinocchio looked over she saw the blonde woman grin. The excitement was visible for all to witness, as she jogged over. “Pinocchio!”

“Hey, Grace,” Pinocchio sighed, as he was engulfed in the woman’s hug.

“So good to see you again!” Grace smiled, her tone softening as she gently rubbed the man’s cheek. “You look worn out, is everything okay?”

“Could say the same for you.” Pinocchio smiled back, looking back curiously as Lampwick snorted.

“She was trying to bathe a child, that’s probably got something to do with it,” he commented, earning himself an unamused look from Grace.

“Oh you’re sooooo hilarious, mister ‘faints after a teleport’.” She quipped back, Malvina stifling a giggle.

Lampwick, however, wasn’t as amused, as he glared at the woman. “Shut up!”

Seemed even Pinocchio wasn’t immune as he chuckled, earning himself a half-hearted glare as well. But his gaze quickly met hers as he gestured for Malvina to come over. “Grace, this is Malvina. An old friend of mine.” he stated as he pointed to her.

“You're the fairy I assume?” Grace asked, Malvina withholding a cringe at the word.

“Well… I guess you could say that.” she hummed.

Grace gasped. “Wait, do you have magic then? Can I borrow you for, like, five minutes?”

“Really?” Lampwick asked.

“Sorry your boyfriend’s baby clothes are too large for the scrawny kid currently sitting in your room!” Grace quipped back as she held up the clothing in particular. Ah. That’s what those were. “I just need to have them shrunken down a touch.”

Without another word Malvina took the items from Grace’s hold, her touch immediately levitating them in front of her. Carefully she began to close her fingers into fists watching the clothing slowly shrink. She was eyeballing it for sure, she didn’t really remember just how the kid looked like. Pinocchio had been pretty big for a puppet though that much she was sure but if she could just shrink it by a third…

“This’ll do?” she asked once she felt they were short enough. They were still probably going to be big but… better safe than sorry. Worse comes to worse, she’d go upstairs and join her to shrink them down more accurately.

Grace however, took the clothing back with a wide grin and nod. “Yes, absolutely! Thank you!”

As quickly as she had arrived Grace darted away, running up the stairs supposedly two steps at a time. As she left, Pinocchio moved away from the counter and sat down at the table opposite to the couple. The tuxedo cat immediately leapt out of its place between Malvina and Pierrot, making his home on the woodcarver’s lap instead, his tail waving contently.

“So how’d the rest of that meeting go? Actually how did it go in general?” Lampwick asked as he wandered through the kitchen.

Malvina grimaced as Pinocchio scoffed and his smile faded.

“Take a wild guess. Blue adjourned it after everything with Sugar Plum, wanting to have her buried and Gods know what she’ll come up with next now that we have an omen hanging over our heads.” Pinocchio explained, discomfort clear in his pinched expression. “And I’m being thrown to my death, meant to fight the king head on in the palace while the army’s supposed to handle the rest of the fight.”

“Are they real right now?” Lampwick asked, eyes narrowing. But Pinocchio’s only response to him was to drop his head in his arms, a heavy sigh emitting from him.

Malvina looked on sympathetically and reached a hand out, giving him a gentle pat on the arm. She exchanged a look with Pierrot, who looked equally troubled before he turned to the woodcarver in front of them.

“You alright?” Pierrot asked as he too leaned over the table.

Pinocchio huffed as he looked up. “What do you think?”

“Maybe they’ll prepare you for it somehow,” Pierrot added, getting a scoff from Lampwick in return.

“Oh you’re expecting too much out of Blue, if that’s what you think she’ll do. She’d want this sorted out as fast as possible.”

“Not so much Blue as the rest of the council, who I would hope would have enough brains to consider it,” Pierrot corrected with a waggle of his finger, Malvina nodding her head in agreement.

Pinocchio’s face was once more buried in his hands as he groaned: “I can’t do it! This is the fucking end and I’ve no say in it!”

“Maybe it could still end okay.” Malvina tried to reassure, but Pinocchio only let out a helpless laugh, a horrible grating sound to the woman’s ears.

“It really can’t. My end will be used as a cautionary tale for children:-” he looked up with a grimace, “Don’t pick strange fucking objects off of the ground because goodness knows if they’re not enchanted enough that they make everyone think you’re some hero until you die a bloody fool.”

Lampwick snorted. “Pinocchio, you’re rambling.”

“But am I wrong?” The woodcarver asked with a pointed look at his fiancé.

Lampwick sighed as he placed the knife down on the board. He seemed to pause suddenly deep in thought before he spoke up once more. “What the hell should the kid eat?”

Malvina’s brows shot up. “You can’t be serious right now-”

“Well sorry but not like I have all that much experience with 'em!” Lampwick shot back, annoyance on his gaze very quickly matching hers.

Malvina scoffed as she got to her feet and marched over. “Clearly you don't!”

“Oh cause you're in a better position to judge me on that, huh, fairy?” the man sneered as Malvina grabbed a dish towel.

The woman ground her teeth together, as she snapped back: “Seems I am, mate. I studied human society and how to raise children, because unlike most fairies taught by our dearly benevolent Queen, I wasn't there to just grant only the possible and not so morally questionable wishes, 'kay? I was in the business to actually help.”

“So why aren't you in it anymore?” Lampwick asked, eyes narrowing in turn.

She took a step towards him, expression cold and unwavering as she spoke: “And that, my friend, is none of your business.”

Pierrot coughed. “My dearies, is this really the time?”

“Well 't’s not like we’re not gettin’ anywhere right now, so! Plus the kid needs to be fed anyway, have you seen ‘er?” He turned back to Mal. “So what do you suggest, little miss knows-it-all?” Lampwick sassed.

Malvina bristled, the desire to whack him with the towel she was holding growing stronger. The nerve! The nerve this man had!!

She sniffed.

Fine. Want to act like a stubborn child yourself, then so be it. “Soup. Some nice chicken broth should do the trick if you have the ingredients to make it,” she explained, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yeah I got them. Most are already in the pot.”

“Then why were you asking again about what to give her specifically?” Malvina asked, amusement starting to rise back up again. “It’s not like her dietary’s are any different from ours. Thought you got all that before.”

Lampwick shrugged as he covered the top, Malvina tutting under her breath. Unbelievable!

He walked off to the pantry coming back with a couple more vegetables as he glanced with uncertainty at the pot. She quickly guessed what he was wondering about and found herself back at his side once more, taking the various array of items from him with a shake of her head. She paused, before huffing as she placed a carrot back down on the board and handed the rest of the ingredients back into the man’s hands and shooed him away. With nimble hands she had it cut up by the time he had come back, Lampwick glancing curiously into the pot as she stirred before turning back to the two still sitting at the table.

“The only thing I can really suggest, and I know you’re gonna hate the words that leave my mouth, love, but you’re gonna have to be honest with ‘em. And tell ‘em what you think of this shit-ass plan,” he stated, pulling out his pipe and toying with it.

Pinocchio said nothing, it was as though he hadn’t even heard what was said. Malvina looked over her eyes narrowing at the varying display of emotions that flitted across the man’s face, quickly dissipating as he walked off. “Gonna get changed.” he murmured as he made his way up the stairs.

Malvina looked up as Lampwick sighed, expecting to see frustration but only saw… a hint of sadness. The man rubbed a hand over his face as he too marched off, muttering something about a smoke break as he walked out of sight. Malvina only shared a look with her husband as the door in the distance shut tight and she leaned against the counter behind her.

If she had a nickel for every passerby she tried to stop and talk to, that ended up running off in the opposite direction or attempted to attack her with any range of weapons from swords to… buttering knives, she’d have about 5 nickels. Now she could continue the joke from there but in this case that was one too many cases of attempts on her life for her liking. And maybe it was warranted. Whatever. It’s not like they knew her intentions especially if they only saw one thing and that was The Evil Queen but that didn’t make it any more enjoyable when it happened for the millionth time.

She sighed as she reappeared in yet another location, looking down at the village beyond. A frown fell across her expression as she sat down on a tree stump, pondering.

She wasn’t going to get anywhere around here. But what did she have left? It’s not like she could teleport herself back to the real realm. She would need, like, a magic bean for that. Or a portal of some sorts.

But it’s not like portals would open up in random spaces like no tomorrow.

As she traced the rings around the wood a man on a horse darted past her, the woman looking up curiously. Her gaze trailed after him and back down to the village. Something about it seemed familiar. She was sure she had been here before. That or every village around here was just the same set up and form. She looked around, spotting the sign a little further from where she was and strode over, looking up at the arrow pointed down the road.

Collodi.

She remembered this one. It was the closest most village to the Royal Castle. A few hours worth by coach or horseback? And there was one other thing about the village that had her mouth curling up with a grin.

A certain boy and his woodcarver father were from here.

Or well, just his son now. August- no, wait, no, Pinocchio. It was Pinocchio here. August was from back there… (fuck, that’s confusing). Whatever. The more important thing was what these men were capable of: If there was one person that could design a portal out of here it was them. Hell, maybe they’d still have the one Regina and Emma had used to get out of here in the first place.

Oh the future looked so much brighter all of a sudden. Maybe she could make her way back. Or make her way to some place better than this!

She marched back down the path and into the village, her grin widening as she went along.

Now all that was left, outside of avoiding any further arrows and knives, was finding the house that belonged to the famed woodcarver.

“Aaaand here we are!” Grace called out as she walked down the stairs. “Ended up trimming her hair too so it could be brushed out easier.”

Lampwick looked up from the soup he had been stirring, his previous frown melting away to a warm grin as he looked at the kid now held in Grace’s arms.

“Oh she looks so much better now!” Malvina cooed as she looked up too, before turning back to the counter she was standing by.

She really did though. The hair was cut and mostly brushed out now. The dirt and grime that had previously clung to every part of the child was now gone. Her hands once red and bitten by the cold were a lot less red now. Even her eyes seemed to have a little sparkle to them now compared to how dull and hopeless she seemed before. Despite his lacking expertise in the field, he didn’t like the idea of upset children. Or children in distress, so seeing the situation this one had been in had been… nothing short of horrifying. Sickening even. It was nice to see her so comfortable again, as well as in fresher clothes, even if they were a little too big on her.

His smile was open and soft as he looked over at Bethan, the man ignoring the look of surprise Malvina was giving him as he asked. “How do you feel, kid?”

Beth’s large eyes found him, the toddler pouting a little as she nodded shyly. The grin hadn’t faded on the man even as he turned back to the cauldron, giving it another stir as Grace moved away with her.

“The soup’s done too. Excellent timing, Grace,” he said as he moved to grab a bowl.

“Oh my gods, why were you near the cauldron?” Grace suddenly asked, after sitting the kid down on the bench.

Lampwick paused, Malvina taking the bowl from his hands. But he had no means of fighting back because all he could really do was look stunned back at the blonde still by the bench. “Are you kidding me?” he asked.

“I’ve an eye on it actually, dear. It’s alright, nothing’s burning here today,” Malvina piped up as she filled the bowl up, the women exchanging a grin.

“Fuck you both?! I’m not that incompetent!” he exclaimed, arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re not?”

Lampwick looked over, seeing Pinocchio now dressed in a loose, green blouse and a sheepskin vest unbuttoned and over the top of it.

Lampwick scoffed. “Remind me: who’s the last person that started a fire here again, babe?”

Pinocchio gave him a look. “Not while cooking though, might I say. Something that I vaguely remember hearing about you doing from Jefferson-”

“Shut up.” Lampwick deadpanned, pouting a little as his partner grinned softly.

A giggle caught his attention and he whipped his head around to see the toddler laughing. She quickly stopped, her shoulders hunching over and looking nervous, her smile now gone. Lampwick gave her a smirk, teeth bearing in a grin, Beth’s eyes brightening as she imitated it, earning a chuckle from the man. The giggles were quick to come back then, Lampwick satisfied as he relaxed again.

“Good to see Bethan looking a little happier now,” Pinocchio hummed as he stepped up next to Lampwick as he leaned on the man’s shoulder, resting his cheek on it.

“So she does have a name!” Grace exclaimed as Lampwick dropped his head on top of Pinocchio’s.

“Something Lancelot gave her,” Pinocchio hummed.

The bowl of soup had been placed before the kid a bit before, Malvina sitting down next to her. Lampwick, noticing the kid’s attention was still on him and Pinocchio nodded his head to the bowl, seeing her glance down at it, perplexed.

“Go on then, kid! Try some,” Lampwick pointed out.

Bethan blinked, looking over at Pinocchio next to him. “Can I?”

“Of course. It's all yours,” Pinocchio smiled, watching the kid’s astonishment grow.

“Than’ you, misser Pinou!!”

Lampwick heard Pinocchio sigh next to him, the man’s head buried in the crook of his shoulder and arms. Carefully he wrapped an arm around him, eyes still on the kid as she sat up on her knees, until Malvina picked her up and sat her on her lap instead. The kid’s eyes, wide as they were, lit up with gratitude as she carefully pulled the bowl closer, taking a small spoonful of soup. The gratitude never left her face as she continued to eat, Lampwick huffing softly at the sight, his hold tightening around his betrothed.

His distraction was ended by a knock sounding on the door. He frowned, Pinocchio pulling away as he went to answer. When he opened the door he stepped outside, Lampwick’s frown deepening as he listened to the distant, hushed murmurs. He glanced at the others, Pierrot giving him a quiet shrug before looking back as Pinocchio stepped back in and shut the door.

When the man stepped back inside, he sighed, looking more tired than before.

“What the hell did they want now?” Lampwick asked, trying his best to keep his annoyance on a downlow.

“They were just alerting us of some… danger in the streets,” Pinocchio huffed.

“Like?”

Pinocchio looked up. “Like the Evil Queen seemingly back.”

Silence fell over the room, even the kid stopping her eating to look up curiously.

“She’s— She’s what?” Grace asked quietly.

“How is that possible?” Lampwick asked, eyes narrowing further. “You said they banished her years back. How the hell has she returned?!”

“I wish I could say… he didn’t give enough details. Jus’ that she was spotted up in Nottingham.” Pinocchio shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little at the strands. “Gods, one thing after the other here right now. First a war, now her.”

“I’m sure the council will find something of use to sort this out,” Grace suggested softly, Lampwick only giving her a scoff as he responded.

“Right. The council that’s throwing Pinocchio in as canon fodder because of some made up prophecy about usurping the king of Camelot?”

“Excuse me?” she looked over, horrified.

“Can’t say I’m all that surprised, given who was probably making that proclamation,” Pierrot hummed.

“Because of course it was her. No one in their right mind would consider an idea like that. I’d have Lancelot face him sooner or the prince but not— Well—” Malvina trailed off, gesturing lamely at the woodcarver.

“It’s fine you can say it. It’s not like you’d be wrong anyway.”

Quiet fell over the room once more, the only sound filling it being the occasional thud of the spoon on wood. That and Figaro’s meow, as he approached and circled around Pinocchio. Lampwick tapped the counter, his motions growing agitated the longer he did so.

This sucked. This. Fucking. Sucked. Absolutely nothing about this situation was remotely okay and it felt like it was only getting worse. First the whole sword, now his guy was being chucked headfirst into a war, followed by the queen’s return? Just which God did they piss off for all of this to be happening in the span of two whole days?

Lampwick sighed sharply, looking down at his partner. “You need to say something.”

“I can’t.” Came the simple response.

“Why? Pinocchio, look at me.” Lampwick asked, his eyes narrowed as the woodcarver’s sharp blue eyes met his. “What’s stopping ya right here and now from telling them that there’s been a mistake?”

“Because I– I-I don’t even know if it’s the right choice to make!” Pinocchio stammered. His eyes, once filled with gentle warmth, were full of nothing but worry and it only served to anger Lampwick more. Gods, he wanted nothing more than for it to stop. He just wanted to see him relaxed again.

“How is this the wrong choice? They’re putting their faith in an illusion some stranger conjured up! Stop playing along like you don’ know better!” he exclaimed, ignoring the looks the rest were giving them. Pinocchio’s gaze dropped from his and he let out a frustrated sigh. “I'd say follow whatever it is you feel is righ’. And ‘m sure the right thing is anything bu’ following this bullshit scheme!”

“But I don't know what's right here, I don't-- I don't know!” the woodcarver looked back up once more, “I don’t know what feels right to me!”

“Trust your gut then.”

“My gut's not saying shit.”

“You're lying to me, Pinocchio.” Lampwick ground back, watching the man straighten up. The anxiety was replaced with a cold, unreadable emotion, as Pinocchio did nothing else except step back and walk away. Lampwick sighed as he walked after him, ignoring the sounds of movements behind him. “Occhi-”

“Need a walk,” Pinocchio muttered as he grabbed his coat from the wrack and opened the back door. Lampwick faltered, teeth grounded together.

Shit!

“Have you forgotten who’s out there right now?!” Lampwick exclaimed as the door was shut in his face. He threw it open, watching the woodcarver march through the snow and out the back gate out into the forest. Lampwick tightly gripped at the door frame. “Pinocchio!!”

No response.

He whipped around and reached for his own jacket, giving a short whistle for Iskra when a hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him from putting the coat on. He looked down, seeing the blue-haired woman staring up at him. She nodded to the kitchen, where Grace now sat with the kid, looking faintly concerned.

“Stay here with the kid,” Malvina stated.

Lampwick glared down at her as he pulled his wrist out of her hold, and slung the jacket over him. “I think I can talk to him just fine, he’s my fiancé.”

“But he’s our friend as well.” Pierrot spoke up, Lampwick looking over at the man.

Malvina’s hand lay over his again forcing him to look back at her. “Let me try talking to him,” she said.

There was no malice or annoyance in her eyes. Much less that condescending look of someone trying to talk like they were above him, something he had gotten used to seeing around the blue pest. There was nothing but a sense of calm to her gaze. Serenity but also, more importantly, care.

He had never been fond of fairies. Always thought they were nothing but stuck up little overlords of magic that only ever saw what they wanted to see instead of what was there. The times he remembered wishing on stars and getting no response. Those were hopeless days. Days where he felt like there was really nothing else there for him. And those unanswered wishes only made it feel worse. The idea of having a wish granted since he was a young’un had always seemed like a childish thing to him. A blithering fairytale that held no water. Or at least he and other younger boys weren’t as privileged to be touched by such light.

They never cared, so he never cared for them. Nova had been the first he had any sort of respect for. But now…

Now he could see why Pinocchio liked this one. He thought her annoying and weirdly puffed up, almost similar to Reul Ghorm but in all honesty, that had been an unfair assumption to make of her. Because she seemed to actually… want to help. She wasn’t even being forceful about it. Insistent, maybe, but there was the feeling that he still had a choice to say no on the matter. An actual choice. Not a thinly veiled lie masquerading as a choice, when in reality there was only one correct answer.

A quiet whinny sounded behind them, Iskra standing by the door patiently. He nodded in the direction he had seen Pinocchio going in.

“Find him,” he murmured, Iskra giving him a single nod before she took off.

Lampwick sighed as he pulled his hands out of Malvina’s and took his coat off. “Alright. Maybe you’ll knock some sense into ‘im.”

Malvina smiled as she moved to the door and ran out. Pierrot snorted as he patted the man on the shoulder, giving him an assuring grin of his own.

“Believe me, he’s not escaping her until she does.” he pointed out, as he took off after the woman. Lampwick watched on silently, still standing by the door as they disappeared into the white landscape.

Well… maybe they had a point, and she’d be able to get something out of him instead of beating around the same bush all the time or saying the wrong shit.

Lampwick closed the door with a quiet click and moved back into the kitchen to sit down on the other side of the kid. He pulled his pipe out when he saw a small hand holding out a spoon to him. The kid looked up at him, odd-coloured eyes wide and round, as she nudged the spoon to him again. The man looked on in bewilderment, looking down at the soup bowl then back at the kid again. Grace was of no help either as she only shrugged at his predicament.

“It’s— fine kid, you can eat,” he said warily, watching the pout grow a touch more intense as she looked down at the bowl before sitting back down in front of it and spooning another mouthful. Perplexed by the strange encounter Lampwick absentmindedly put his pipe back into his pocket, the small distraction abandoning the need to find a different type of one.

Guess she was kinda right about this too: His understanding of kids was truly next to zero.

— 1979 —

The sound of the dogs snarling loudly told him that they were still hot on his heels, forcing the young boy to keep running. Running, and running as fast as he could.

Both him and Pierrot had split up, intent on finding one another once they lost their chasers. He wasn’t even sure why he was a subject of capture in the first place! It’s not like that guy was after him specifically. Was he? Maybe he knew about him given his goals and who his brother was. Gods, did The Fire-eater tell him? Oh gods, that’s probably why!

He heard the shout of a man, seeing him catching up from behind, as Pinocchio reached a bridge. He glanced to the other side then down below as he slowed to a stop. The shouting was getting louder. He looked back, seeing the man behind and then back at the surface of the water.

Maybe—!

The boy ran to the other side, spying a rock and hoisted it up. With a grunt he stumbled closer to the edge, looking down at how deep it was and, with his back to the lake and eyes closed, he hugged the rock tightly as he allowed himself to fall in.

Down Pinocchio went, sinking much faster than he had previously anticipated. At the speed he was sinking he had no time to move out of the way of it and before he knew it, he was at the bed of the lake, stuck under the rock he had used as an anchor to get here in the first place. The boy struggled against it, trying to wriggle out from under it but all he could master was miniscule movements that got him nowhere. He grunted, painted brows furrowing as he looked around for something to use as a lever to help aid his escape.

“Little boy made of pine… what brings you down below this lake of mine?” A calm voice called from behind. The puppet craned his head to look over, seeing a massive turtle, the BIGGEST he’s ever seen really wading its way towards him. He gawked as he watched it swim around.

“Your lake?!” he exclaimed, watching almost mesmerised as the bubbles rose up.

The turtle swam closer, a quiet huff leaving it before she pressed her shell against the rock that had trapped the boy below it. With a couple of nudges it rolled over next to him. Pinocchio immediately began to float upwards, the boy frantically waving his hands through the water. But the turtle swam up and remained hovering over him, keeping the boy under the water. She looked down, lazily watching him with a gentle tilt of her head.

“Lake Zolot has been my home for many a generation,” the turtle explained.

“Whoa!! I didn’t know you were so old! Are you old like my papa then?” Pinocchio asked.

The turtle chuckled. “Tortila is much older, dear child. Though I must ask,-” her head tilted in the opposite direction. “What’s a young boy like you doing down here?”

“I was trying to escape some bad people.” Pinocchio blinked up at her. “they were trying to hurt me and my friend-” he stopped with a gasp, “Pierrot! He’s still up there somewhere!”

Before he could push himself out from under the turtle a sudden splash rippled through the water, the boy hearing a distant howl above the surface. Tortila looked perplexed before swimming upwards with the boy holding on to her flippers. She turned and nudged him, grabbing the scruff of the puppet’s neck tie as they floated up. She guided him to the rim of her shell, letting him grab hold before she let go and swam faster upwards.

Not far from them a dog splashed around, frantically kicking up water as it tried to stay afloat. Pinocchio’s breath hitched as he clung onto the turtle’s shell.

“One of Karabas’ men. Must have fallen into the lake.”

Pinocchio looked down at the turtle when she spoke, her expression unreadable. He looked back at the dog again, eyes worried.

“Is he going to drown?” he asked quietly.

“I’d assume so.” Tortila blinked, before turning around and swimming in the opposite direction.

Wait!

Wait, wait! What is she-!!

“Are you just going to leave him like that?” he asked, worry oozing from his words. The turtle glanced up, her expression as placid as it was until now.

“It was his own mistake thinking he could come here without considering the price he may pay for trying,” she responded, before turning back as she began swimming towards the bank.

Pinocchio looked back again. Well… he supposed she— she wasn’t wrong.

But as that thought passed by he immediately remembered Pleasure Island. He remembered, how five months of fun turned to the most horrifying scenery he had ever seen. He remembered calling for her, crying, desperate for a way to escape but hearing no one. As though the world had turned his back on him for his mistake. He remembered Lampwick’s call for a mother that would never show. He remembered his own calls for a fairy that he figured had abandoned him… a father he had assumed to have lost the love of for good. And the only thing he had left was to fend for himself.

He turned back once again looking back at the dog.

He didn’t like this… He didn’t like the idea of leaving someone to a fate like that. And while maybe he was scared of what could happen if he did do something about this… the idea of the price of his safety being someone’s life…? He didn’t want that. He was— he was sure even his conscience shouldn't want that either, right?

Without another word, Pinocchio dived into the lake, swimming as fast as he could to reach the dark canine, and grabbed him by the collar. He struggled against the thrashing of the beast, yet relented as he hoisted him up to the surface again.

“Hold on!” he shouted the moment his head broke through the water. The dog had since stopped his kicking, all fight and will leaving him as he hung limp against the puppet’s shoulder. Pinocchio grunted as he worked to reach the edge of the water. There was a sudden force behind him that made it simpler to swim. The marionette looked behind and saw Tortila holding the canine’s torso, pushing them both from behind. A strange yet warm gleam danced in her eyes as Pinocchio’s met hers, the puppet turning away as he reached the shore. With a hand still on the dog’s collar he pulled him up to the shore, the animal spluttering, coughing up the excess water that had reached his lungs.

The dark curls on the poodle eased from its paws, confining themselves into long, black locks of hair instead. The paws themselves morphed into a pair of arms and dark-clad legs. The man’s eyes opened, dark grey against a pale, angular face as he looked up at the boy and turtle sitting next to him. He breathed in deeply and exhaled softly.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing, really.” Pinocchio murmured, watching the strange man wince as he clung to his ankle. “What happened to your-”

“Bad leg. Acted up the moment I stepped onto the bridge. The wood seems to have rotted or… s-something. It gave way the moment I hit it.” The man explained with a hiss as he settled down on the river bank.

“And what’s a dog doing so far away without his master, Artemon?” Tortila asked, making the dark-haired man look up with surprise.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know more than you can comprehend.” She explained, her gaze narrowing. “Such as the knowledge that Mstislav must be out searching for you.”

Pinocchio hunched back, drawing his own knees up to his chest. “You’re- You’re really his servant then?”

Artemon huffed, a weary look etched across his features. “Was… but I’ve questioned my loyalty towards Mstislav since his recent goals. I simply don’t wish to live in service towards such a man.”

The wooden boy sat up straight, his eyes widening. “You’re not helping him then?”

Artemon huffed. “Why help a man who’s care is only what he can achieve when you could help the one who simply could have left me to drown.” he bowed his head quietly, “I owe you much more than just a thank you, dear boy.”

Pinocchio blinked, looking down at the man with a wide-eyed gaze. Oh. Oh this was— He wasn’t sure what to make of this! He was used to scolding not-not… not praises??? “Um!!” he looked over at Tortila, who gave him an affirming nod of her own. Oh, he did something right then? He didn't— he didn’t mess this up? The boy bowed his head, pouting a touch as he spoke quietly. “It really was nothing.”

“You’re a good boy, Pinocchio,” Tortila praised, making the young puppet look up.

“I will be! I’ll be good like my fairy wanted me to be!” he exclaimed with a wide grin. He was going to be the best puppet they’d ever seen, just you wait!

Tortila’s smile never faded. “You already are. And you proved it further with that act of selflessness.”

“Selfless?” he immediately glanced down at his hands, seeing the smooth surface of wood that was always there still. “But I’m… not real yet.”

Tortila chuckled. “All in due time my dear. But you’re well on your way.” She tucked herself into her shell all of a sudden reappearing soon enough with a strange golden object. “I also want to bestow you with this.”

Pinocchio looked down at the item, tracing its shape before taking it. “Whassis?”

“A Golden Key. A Key that opens to a chamber that holds very powerful magic,” the turtle explained.

“That’s what he was looking for?” Artemon asked, Tortila giving him a silent look and a nod.

“Strange how he claimed you so close once and yet he never thought to share this part of his plan, isn’t it?” she asked.

Pinocchio’s attention was entirely on the key, unaware of how the man took the turtle’s words. The key… the one thing that remained between Mstislav and the magic he wanted to abuse. He was holding it… in the palm of his hands…

Oh gods.

He was holding it!

His hold suddenly tightened around the key in his hand, eyes wide as he stiffened. “I don’t- I don’t want this! I can’t, it’ll- I’ll-”

“Yes you can, and you must.” Tortila interjected with a serious look. “I know Karabas has been after me for a long time. The only thing stopping him from getting his hands on the key is not knowing my location. And therefore the key’s location. It must remain as such, but I know he’ll be well on his way here. It’s only a matter of time before his other dogs catch your scent-”

“And lead him right to this spot.” Artemon added, looking nervous.

Pinocchio’s gaze remained on the key before meeting the turtle’s eyes once more. “What if I lose it?”

“You won’t.”

“What if he gets it and bad things happen because I couldn’t keep it safe?”

“Pinocchio.” Tortila interjected, her gaze stern. “Have a little faith in yourself the way others have in you. I wouldn’t be giving this to you specifically if I didn’t think you could hold onto it and ensure it doesn’t end up in the wrong hands.”

The way she looked reminded him a little of Zvezda really… nice even if a little mean at times but she— she always seemed to have something nice to say to him despite that. She was… she was good.

And he repaid her with nothing but disobedience and probably death.

He dropped his gaze, wincing a touch at the slight pain in his foot as guilt seeped in. “You don’t know me…” he murmured.

“But you’ve shown me what’s in your heart.” Tortila murmured, as she lifted his head, making him meet her gaze once more. “And that’s more than enough.” Her smile was back and warm as ever. As afraid as he was, he couldn’t help but find himself smiling a little himself. Have faith. Have faith. He- he needed to have faith. He wasn’t sure if he could actually do this but maybe— maybe he could try.

He gave the turtle a timid nod and she pulled away, nodding in the direction Pinocchio had come from. “Now go. Take the key and find your friend!”

He gave the turtle another nod as she slid back into the water. The boy sighed as he looked back down at the key again, gripping it tightly. He could do this. He could do this.

“I can help you find him faster, if you were to allow me the chance to assist,” Artemon offered, as he stood up, transfiguring back into a dog once more. Pinocchio hung the key around his neck, stuffing it underneath his shirt as he gave the poodle a single nod with a grin as they jogged away. With the other dogs off their trail now… they could find Pierrot. Hopefully it wasn’t too late!

— PRESENT —

Since the two strangers and Pinocchio had left, Grace and Lampwick had yet to leave the kitchen, the two working to clean up the counter and tables. The kid behind them had eaten her meal in relative peace and since had settled down even if reluctantly at first next to Figaro. The tom cat had lain down almost immediately and curled up next to her, taking great pleasure in letting the child pet him and spoil him with affection. That was a mere ten minutes ago however, because when Grace checked again, she saw Bethan out like a nightlight and the tom cat lying still and unmoving like her personal guard. ‘Watch cat,’ she chuckled to herself as the thought crossed her mind.

Bethan. A child that had no parents. Further confirmed by Lampwick, who had taken the time to explain what it was that was going on. From the whole incident with the sword and all that that entailed, to the child they had found on the streets and who she seemed to be. Neither of the subjects were anything pleasant, and the man had very much shown exactly how upset he himself was about all of it. She could only guess how much stress the ones these incidences were affecting the most could have right now. But at least the kid was safe here… so that was one plus, she supposed.

There was a sudden knock on the door, Lampwick grumbling under his breath. Another, and this time it was much firmer, had him glaring at the door. Grace looked down at the duo previously asleep on the floor, seeing the kid’s wide eyes staring back.

“For peeves sake.” Lampwick muttered as he chucked the dish towel onto the counter and marched over to the door, hand over his dagger sheath. “If you’re here to bother him again-”

The cut in the man’s sentence had Grace pause and look over, right as she watched Lampwick collapse to the floor by the door, the knife clattering. Her heart seized to her throat on seeing who stepped over him, the dark-clad woman with long and equally black hair shutting the door behind her. The sound of the lock resounded and Grace immediately reached into her back pocket as she glared at the queen.

“Careful with that knife. Wouldn’t want someone to step on it.”

She heard her sneer down at the man, right as she pulled out the bottle of dust. With a flick of her wrist, she threw it in the path of the queen, making the woman yelp at the sudden burst of debris in front of her. Without taking a moment of haste, she threw an ounce of blue sand at her, the fireball sent her way vanishing into nothing but harmless sparks and embers.

“What the hell is that?!” The woman demanded, as Grace chucked yet another handful of blue sand at her fireball, dissipating it once more.

“My own brand of magic!” she barked back.

Grace grabbed a pinch of dust that was coloured green, snapping her fingers as an array of sparks were shot her way, the lightning hitting the wall she had been standing in front of instead. The woman reappeared behind the queen, standing in front of Lampwick with a smirk playing on her lips. It grew into a wide grin as the woman looked back at her in horror. But the horror quickly gave way to a sneer.

“See you’ve inherited your father’s genius, girl. But not his wit,” The Evil Queen jeered.

As Grace reached for the bottle of sleeping potion in her back pocket, she felt the wind knock out of her and her limbs grow heavy. The bottle dropped from her hand and shattered to the floor and Grace’s eyes rolled back as she slumped to the ground along with it.

— 1979 —

There was no sound of dogs, except for the panting of the one that had joined both him and Pierrot, as the boys ran through the forest. He wasn’t sure where they were going, their only goal being to lose Karabas somewhere and hope he would give up trying to retrieve them. He knew the chances of that happening were pretty slim. Karabas-Barabas giving up his search seemed frankly… unrealistic.

Pinocchio glanced back, missing the tree root in front of him and tripping right over it. The boy tumbled through the undergrowth, landing in a clearing with a quiet “oof!” and a pout on his lips. It didn’t hurt much (guess that was cool about being wooden…), even as he got up. He could hear the rest catching up as he looked around the clearing, seeing the lone cottage just off in the corner. Someone sat outside at the house at a little picnic bench, the boy wandering tentatively closer, before picking up speed. His eyes widened as he noticed the turquoise hair, the curled locks undeniably recognisable.

“Zvezda?!” Pinocchio exclaimed, watching the woman glance up from the bench. His jog turned into a sprint as he reached her, the fairy standing up and wandering over to close the distance.

“Hello, Pinocchio.” she smiled softly, “It’s good to see you’re well.”

“And I you!! I-I thought something happened to you from the way—” he slowed, grin decreasing as he took in her appearance. It was the same hair, those same light eyes… and yet— “You seem… you seem different.”

“And you’ve grown, my dear Prokopiy.” her smile grew saddened, “Your father’s kindness is shining through brighter than before. And I see you’re making new friends too.”

That name… she always seemed to use it with him. He couldn’t deny that it was pretty though, even if confusing as to why she used it. Maybe it was a title? He wasn’t sure… It was nice though. It made him want to smile for some reason no matter how he was feeling at the time.

Pinocchio’s gaze still however dropped to the floor as he shuffled his feet. “Thank you…” he heard Pierrot and Artemon catch up to them soon enough, Pinocchio glancing over at the two as they reached them. He turned back to the fairy with a soft smile to match hers. “I actually wanted to ask for your help if you’re okay with that.”

“Of course, Pinocchio. I can certainly try but… if it’s wishes you’re looking for, however, that isn’t something I am able to offer assistance in,” Zvezda sighed, her gaze growing downcast once more.

Pinocchio’s frown deepened. He had seen her sad once.. It was when he didn’t go to school like he said that he would. But this… this was the most upset he had ever seen the fairy.

“Why? What-” he paused as Zvezda shook her shoulders. And yet, despite her wings usually unfurling with that motion, nothing seemed to happen. He gasped, the boy’s eyes widening. “Your wings…”

“A lot has changed, my dear. Zvezda is… no longer part of the fae courts,” the woman sighed. “In fact she’s not a fairy at all anymore.”

Pinocchio took a step back, as he took her in. Really took in the fairy’s appearance.

“That’s what Blue had meant. That's what happened, Zvezda was… she —” Everything suddenly fell into place. The brightness of the once beautiful fairy dulled to grey almost, the distant sadness she wore, Blue’s comment about her not being around. His actions had not only caused scary things to happen to him but they also… they really affected someone else. His gaze dropped to the ground, bottom lip wobbling as he spoke: “I’m-I’m sorry.”

“What?” Zvezda asked, but he was so focused on his wringing hands to really see how she was looking.

“I didn’t—” he continued, his grip tightening over his hands. “I-I know I did a really bad thing when she told me, but I didn’t think it meant you lost all of this!”

“Hey, hey. None of this— nothing regarding this is your fault, my child.”

Suddenly he was looking down at Zvezda, who had crouched in front of him.

“Do not ever let that woman make you think otherwise. Do you understand, Prokopiy?” she continued, with her hands laying firmly on his shoulders.

He looked at her, seeing no hate or upset looking up at him, only the gentle kindness the fairy always seemed to greet him with. Even despite her strictness at times, she had only ever been nice to the puppet, a welcome warmth even when he expected nothing but punishment for the actions he had committed. Even now, she seemed to hold nothing against him even if he felt she should have. He sniffled, knowing that tears would never form behind his eyes like it would for other children his age, but the ache in his chest was still enough to overwhelm him, as Pinocchio threw his arms around the former fairy. There was no pause as he did so; Zvezda quickly reciprocated and hugged him equally as tightly, saying nothing as he whimpered.

Despite the guilt that still swam in the pits of his stomach, he was so, so glad to see her again.

“So are you going to introduce me to your tall friend?”

Pinocchio’s eyes shot wide open at the question, the boy looking up at Pierrot still standing by and next to Artemon. Even the former guard hound looked equally sheepish.

“Oh!” The boy smiled as he eased out of Zvezda’s hold, gesturing up at her. “Pierrot and Artemon, this is-”

“Malvina.” she cut in, giving a light little courtesy.

Pinocchio looked up, surprised. His confusion only continued as Pierrot gasped.

“Malvina… I knew someone called Malvina once. The most darling of souls she was. Even wrote a poem about her once.”

“You did?” Malvina asked, her smile still serene.

He didn’t get it. This was… was he talking about a different Malvina then? They didn’t seem to know each other so perhaps?

“Oh absolutely! If neither of you oppose, I would love to share.” Pierrot offered, as Pinocchio nodded excitedly.

Artemon transfigured from dog to human, offering his own silent approval of the act, before Malvina spoke up:

“I’d be honoured to hear it.”

Pierrot skipped merrily over to the bench, hopping up on the table itself as the rest sat around him. He cleared his throat and pulled his lute around to the front. Giving that a quick strum and nodding with approval at the tones, he fished out a little sheet of paper from his pocket. Pinocchio watched him glance back at them with a serene grin, before he strummed a single tone and began to read:

At the break of day her light will shine,

A star like no other,

A star I dare call mine.

Her wings delicate as gossamer which glimmer with a hue,

Spun from the dawn’s first rays,

And twilight’s deep blues.

-

Her locks are of seafoam as are her eyes

They shine and they shimmer, like the stars in our night skies

When she speaks it’s like honey touching each tone

And her smile is enough to banish evils alone.

-

Tell me, my dear, what's it like up there?

Among the stars that you walk,

along clouds so wisp and threadbare.

Is it as glorious as it looks from down here?

Or do the wonders of our world pull at you more,

Than the heavens above within your celestial sphere.

-

We talked that whole night about the way the world around us has grown.

Its beauties and lessers — both known and unknown.

The songs sung by nightingales and owls alike.

Oceans a’plenty and mountains so high.

We talked of dreams and of love,

of joy and of grief,

The many strange emotions some may bury beneath.

Until the sun’s rays were high above

And we bid farewell with hopes of another crossed path

-

A name she did not give, but our paths soon met again

And thrice more nights, followed by another when

I could no longer stand,

to last a night without you,

I wish for nothing but you here,

even as the skies turn bright blue.

-

You are my morning star,

My guiding light,

One I’d gaze at from afar, almost every night.

It’s been half a year since that grand day,

that moment when you first took my breath away.

I say this not with force,

nor with coercion.

But with respect for you,

I cannot stifle my emotion.

For my dear Malvina,

a sweet name you let me pick for thee,

will you do me the highest honours of loving me?

As the poem came to an end did Pinocchio notice the silence that had fallen over the grove around the cottage. None of the birds were chirping and no bugs were flitting around. It was as if the whole forest had stopped to listen as well.

Pinocchio noticed a couple of bluebirds nestling in the rim of his hat and on his shoulders, at peace where they were and listening. Artemon, who was sitting next to where he stood, had a quiet smile and Malvina looked astonished.

He didn’t allow the silence to drag on for any longer, however, as he began to clap quietly. “That was beautiful, Pierrot!” Pinocchio exclaimed, the birds taking flight around him.

“Your talent remains unmatched, young sir.” Artemon added as well, Pierrot giving a little bow.

“Thank you.”

“What did you think, Malvina?” Pinocchio asked as he looked at the former fairy. Malvina still hadn’t moved from what he could tell. The boy couldn’t help but frown with worry. He didn’t really understand what could potentially be the problem, or why the poem seemed to… bother her even? He watched her gaze narrow as she stepped closer to Pierrot.

“Malvina?” Pinocchio called out again.

“That poem I’ve— I’ve heard it before.” Malvina stated. “Years ago, but I’m so sure that I’ve heard it once before.”

“Really? But that’s… that’s impossible the only person that could have ever heard it was—” Pierrot paused, his jaw agape as he looked at her and jumped off the table. He breathed out sharply, clutching to his chest as though he had been punched and seemingly searched for something on the fairy’s face. Pinocchio frowned, looking up at Artemon who could only offer him a shrug.

What was going on?

“Bu-but I’d recognise you. I should— I should recognise you if you are who you say you are, but why do I feel like I’m looking at the wrong picture?” Pierrot suddenly asked quietly.

“Maybe… Maybe it’s to do with the wish that was cast on our names… I don’t know,” Malvina explained.

“Wish?” Pinocchio asked, his confusion growing.

Pierrot huffed, as he stood back and raised his head to the sky. “Well, if a wish is what got us into this situation, then maybe that’s what will bring us back!”

Malvina gasped. “Wait-”

“I wish to see my dear Malvina once again. Even if it were one last time!” he called out, his voice echoing through the air.

At first it seemed nothing happened. But then came a bright, blue gleam that enveloped the two before it dissipated in an array of glittering sparkles. As the light faded away Pierrot and Malvina stood quiet and still like before. The only difference now, were the looks of wonder the both of them were wearing as they stared at the other. Malvina gasped as she stepped back, hand over her mouth as tears pricked her eyes. Pierrot however: Pierrot’s grin widened, radiant with a joy Pinocchio had never seen on him before.

“It really was you–”

His voice cut off, Pinocchio’s smile disappearing. Pierrot had grown rigid, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he clutched at it. Before anyone could reach out a hand to help him much less react, he collapsed onto his knees, a yelp of pain leaving him. Pinocchio backed away, whimpering quietly under his breath right into the older guardsman, who looked down at him in surprise before turning his attention back to Pierrot.

The bard grunted weakly with his hand tightening over his chest, expression scrunched up painfully as he lay his head against the clearing ground. Words were beyond his reach it would seem, but no one needed him to say anything. What was going on, everyone could see it clearly for themselves.

His skin, normally soft and clear, was losing its youthful quality, as it began to shrivel and wrinkle on his hands and arms. The same phenomenon seemed to be affecting his face when he turned to look at them, his hair and beard growing longer and greyer with each passing moment. He gripped at the ground with one hand, and the other still to his chest, stiffened and grew more gnarled and shaky. Malvina dropped to her knees next to him and rolled him over, the man letting out a gasp of pain as she lay him in her lap.

Pinocchio looked over from behind Artemon, eyes wide as he watched the once spritely young man rapidly ageing right before their very eyes. “What’s-what’s happening?!” he asked, looking up as Malvina whimpered.

“No!” she breathed, “No! Pier–Pierrot!!”

— PRESENT —

The trek up through the mountains proved rather difficult, especially when there was very little knowledge of direction on hand for Malvina. Well, it could have been worse if not thanks to the footprints in the snow guiding her path around. Occasionally she would stop and wait for Pierrot, the two taking breaks whenever they needed them. Cause as much of a hurry as they were in… unfortunately walking through mountains wasn’t something either were accustomed to. Not when they had magic and a trusted steed that enjoyed the forest at their disposal. Neither of which they could use right now.

Still, they made do, eventually coming across a clearing with a single, leafbare aspen standing just off-centre. There was a fallen log close by as well, and the individual they had been after sitting on it. Pinocchio sat with his head down, still and unmoving. Next to him was the little creature she remembered Lampwick sending after him, her head in the man’s lap. His hand was on her head, and while previously Malvina thought him to be doing nothing, as she got closer she could see him quietly petting the little pony. She was the first to acknowledge their presence. the pony’s gaze trailing upwards. Her cheek wings gave them a quiet flutter but otherwise she didn’t move from her post next to the man she was offering her companionship to.

Pinocchio himself, however, didn’t look up, gaze seeming lost in thought. His expression exposed every feeling that seemed to be running through him right now: The worry in his furrowed gaze, the saddened glaze of his eyes, mouth pulled down into a permanent, bitter frown and his fingers tapping rapidly over his knee. Despite the many, many mistakes he had made growing up and even before he was made real, it always pained her to see him so upset. It was as though… all of the sun had been sucked away, leaving behind a withering sapling. Even now, despite how much they’ve aged and matured he seemed so small all of a sudden.

But even the winter needed to pass, and maybe she and Pierrot could find a means to poke some spring sunlight back in right now.

Pinocchio’s eyes closed as she crouched down in front of him, Pierrot sidling around her to sit at the man’s side.

“If you’re here to give me some uplifting hope speech… you can keep it.” Pinocchio murmured.

Pierrot huffed as he settled down next to the woodcarver. “You know I love my hope speeches, old friend. But I’m sure this situation doesn’t call for one.”

Pinocchio remained unperturbed, as he continued to stroke the pony’s head. Suddenly he laughed, whispered but one nonetheless, sounding as hopeless as he seemed to be. “What the hell am I doing?” he muttered, “I feel like I’m back a puppet again trying to achieve the impossible! And there’s nothing I can do to worm my way out, no other right way to go about it. Just me alone against fate’s sick game.”

“What do you mean?” Malvina asked. “Why do you feel like you’re alone in this, Pinocchio? Much less that you have something to prove? Look at me…” His gaze remained on the ground, prompting the grey pony to nudge him, but even that did nothing. Malvina breathed out softly, as she rested her hand on his knee, eliciting a reaction from the woodcarver and making him look up. “You’re not telling me something here.”

Pierrot’s hand dropped on Pinocchio’s shoulder, making him turn to look at him instead. “It’s clear this isn’t right for you. So why won’t you just tell them that it was all a misunderstanding?”

Pinocchio sighed, his gaze distant as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. “You tell me. Maybe it’s because I’m too much of a coward to tell them the truth. Maybe the idea of Blue looking down on me once more was and still is too much to bear ...Or perhaps it’s…” his shoulders slumped, his head hanging low as he sighed. “I didn’t want to— to make them lose that hope. You know what it feels like when you’ve hit a dead end, Malvina. You as well, Pierrot. What kind of person am I if I robbed them of the same thing by saying that this faith they put in me was fake? I can’t— I’m not a hero but the idea of taking that away when they’re counting on one— I don’t know what to do.” His voice was quiet and yet thick with emotion, making Malvina’s gaze furrow sympathetically.

So that was the problem here. While the fear was prominent, yes, there was another very messy layer added right on top of it, making it all the more complicated. Of course, she had partly expected the Blue Fairy to have something to do with all of this as well. She was sure most of them all knew who was responsible for most of this man’s troubles, and while she regrets little, her ultimate regret was not claiming the wish herself all those years ago… granting it for the old man, giving him the son he so wished to have and claiming the young boy he had created out of love and hope as her own charge instead.

Would that have made his life easier..? Made all the troubles seem less harder to manage? Would he be less afraid of the mistakes and consequences that they could ensue than the way he is now? It was hard to say. But at least maybe most of the underlying fear of disappointment wouldn’t have to exist.

Still though… this was the reality they were faced with and they’ve faced it before. And she’d be damned before she stopped trying to help him overcome yet another horrible obstacle that they’ve found themselves faced with.

Malvina shifted her weight, still crouched down in front of the man, hand resting on his knee. “Alright. Let me ask you something else then: What makes you think you have to do this on your own? Because Blue said so? Because this unreal destiny and people’s expectations say you should?” she asked. “You’re not going to get anywhere if all you do is bend back to the will of others, Prokopiy.”

The minute she voiced the name she heard the man’s breath hitch. She could just make out his expression on his bowed head, face scrunching up mournfully and bottom lip wobbling. Iskra from next to him whickered quietly, pressing her nose closer to his stomach, and didn’t flinch as the man’s grip tightened on her mane. Malvina waited patiently, unflinching. Even if he wasn’t her charge, the name she would use was something she never thought to change.

It was meant as a quiet, subtle reminder of what he was: not a wooden boy that causes trouble, but an individual that’s always working his way up, no matter the small intervals.

The man let out another breath, Malvina just catching him bite his bottom lip before he brought a hand over his mouth to stifle himself, head dropping lower, his knee bouncing as he quietly keened. She noticed Pierrot’s hand drop on Pinocchio’s shoulder and the pony pressing herself closer to him as well as she reached up, gently cupping the man’s face and pressing her forehead to the crown of his. She ushered him quietly, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks as she felt him shake, another hiccup shuddering through him.

All the while she continued to assure.

All the while they sat by, waiting out the storm.

And eventually the brunt of it passed, the tension lessening. Her actions never ceased, not even when she heard the man huff quietly and murmur.

“I got myself into this mess… it’s only right that I get myself out of it.”

Malvina’s gaze narrowed. “Fuck that kinda thinking, do you hear me? Stop with that. Prokopiy, please look at me.” she urged, as she pulled her hands away and placed them back on his knees. She didn’t think he would oblige to her request, but he very soon did as he looked up at the woman. Her expression, though soft, grew all the more firm.“A hole that you’ve dug yourself shouldn’t always have to equal you pulling yourself out of it. Not if someone’s throwing you a rope to help you back up in the first place.”

“Right!” Pierrot nodded. “Not every story means there’s only one hero triumphing against all of the obstacles on his own! Who’s to say he can’t have someone watching his back, or helping him carry the weight he bears?”

Malvina nodded with a smile. “Like Pierrot says. And you know, despite what all those stories and legends say, a lot of heroes usually win with help at their side. However big or small. A villager granting aid, a wish from a fairy, someone using magic… It’s rare for one to succeed seemingly on their own. And anyone that thinks they can, are, well, arrogant in their abilities at best.”

“And they usually pay for their arrogance very quickly. More often than not with their life,” Pierrot explained as he leaned back.

Pinocchio looked over at the man, before turning back to the fae. “What if we still fail? A whole kingdom’s fate is resting on my shoulders right now, Mal. And I don’t want to drag you both down with me.”

Malvina’s gaze softened. “You’re not dragging anyone down with you, Prokopiy… Not if we’re voluntarily stepping into this mess ourselves.”

“And what happens, happens. We’ve been in tough spots before, Pinoke! And I’d gladly walk through hell and back with you once more if you’d have me!” Pierrot piped up, leaning over the man’s shoulder.

“You’re not getting rid of me, either. Blue’s not getting rid of me, damned what she may think you should do. The Council can say whatever they wish, they're not getting rid of me. And I’m as certain of Lampwick not leaving your side either on this quest, the same way I’m sure of the sun’s rising every morning.” Iskra beside them whinnied, whispered agreements calling in the woman’s head. She looked to Pinocchio, who’s gaze was equally as tranquil and took his hands, making him look up once more. “You have people to help you, dear… use that to your advantage. And come what may… we’ll get through this all together.”

He seemed more… calm now compared to moments ago which was good to see. But still anxiety remained, though she wasn’t sure there was any way of getting rid of it until, well… until the deed was done. Still the calmness gave way to a smile, a genuine one, and nothing compared to the helpless ones she had seen until now.

Pinocchio huffed, the light she had so sorely missed seeing in his gaze returning. “I told you I wanted no hope speeches,” he commented, his words pulling out a bigger smile of her own.

“You’re stubborn, it’s not my fault I had to resort to it.” Malvina chuckled teasingly as she squeezed his hands a little.

Pinocchio laughed a little himself, a welcome sound to her ears. “Thank you though. Really. For everything.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She gave his hands another gentle squeeze. “Come on. Let’s get back home and devise our own plan.”

“Something that’s less ‘Hochwasser’s army style’ and more… ‘Village fools improvising to their heart’s content but still making it work’. Personally, I'm a huge fan of those happy accident stories really.” Pierrot hummed as he stood up and held his hand out to the maiden.

Malvina chuckled as she stood up and hooked her arm around Pierrot’s. “Hold back a little with the fantasies, we’re not in a fairytale book, darling.”

“Meh, to be fair we kinda are from what Princess Emma told me. But I don’t really know who’s the author of it,” Pinocchio pointed out as she held her hand out to help him up. He accepted it graciously, Mal quickly looping her arm around his as well before he could even think to pull away. Iskra hopped around the three of them, delighted whickers leaving her.

“Well let’s not worry about those questions and, instead, regroup and replan. Without the council’s noses sticking into it,” She hummed, smiling softly up at the two men she was sandwiched between. Pinocchio smiled, genuinely smiled for the second time now as he gave her a small nod.

Pierrot grinned as Pinocchio led them around and out of the clearing. “Sounds like my kinda plan!”

— 1979 —

Pierrot’s grunts of pains hadn’t ceased, as the man only seemed to grow wearier and older before them. Pinocchio looked up as he heard Malvina choke back a sob, her hand on her lover’s shoulder. Pierrot’s hand was on his chest, gripping tightly at the fabric as another pulse of pain seemed to rack through him, and Pinocchio watched him grow wearier.

“I’m sorry,” she keened.

Pinocchio turned his gaze away, tucking it into the fabric of the guardsman he was standing next to, his eyes screwed shut.

“Don’t be…” Pierrot gritted out, “You’re not at fault for any of this-”

“She warned me! ‘It won’t last’ is what she told me that day! And this is what she really meant with that,” Malvina exclaimed, bowing her head in shame. “Gods, I'm so sorry, It was my fault that this has happened, it was my fault!”

The action, the words felt so familiar. Too familiar. In fact, familiar enough that it was uncomfortable to bear witness on someone usually so tough. Zvezda was never ashamed… She had no reason to be ashamed like that… he didn’t like it in the least bit.

“Malvina… my dearest morning star, please don’t apologise for any of this. For I know, I won’t ever regret the day I met you. Even now… I'd give up…” he winced, Pinocchio peeking around and spying a pained smile on the ageing man. “I'd give up even a thhhhousand lifetimes for you, Malvina.”

The words seemed to soothe very little in Malvina, her cries heard loud and clear. It hurt. It hurt to watch and hear her like that. She was always so unphased… seeing her breaking wasn’t something Pinocchio thought an adult, much less a fairy could look. He really didn’t like it!

“And I would-” she choked back another sob as she pressed her forehead against the bard’s. Pinocchio sniffled, clutching desperately onto the hem of Artemon’s coat as he watched on and saw Pierrot tilt his chin up. He had a trembling hand on Malvina’s cheek, the fairy covering it with a hand of her own. Without another word she leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of the man’s nose, before placing it on his lips.

A hush fell over the forest followed by a sudden burst of light emitting from both of them.

Pinocchio’s eyes widened and he stumbled back at the sheer force of energy rushing past him, almost knocking the breath out of his lungs. He was steadied by Artemon and the two of them sat back. Malvina and Pierrot remained as they were before, glowing brightly, but slowly something began to change. Pierrot’s hand, once rapidly growing weary, was now juvenile and clear. The glow around them lessened as the spell faded away, and the two of them broke apart, looking as surprised as Pinocchio felt.

“Whoa…” he breathed, seeing Malvina as stunned as he felt.

“That was true love’s kiss, wasn’t it?” Artemon asked, the woman looking over.

Her breath hitched as she glanced down at her hands and pressed a finger to her lips. “H-how—”

Pierrot huffed under his breath. But then he started to laugh, his laughter growing in volume all the while. Malvina’s hands covered her mouth as she started to giggle herself, before she was suddenly pulled down by the man still sitting in front of her. Pinocchio stood up, giggling a little himself as he watched the two roll over on the ground, Malvina now laying on her back and Pierrot grinning up above her.

“Some fairies cannot love, huh?” Pierrot called out with another bout of laughter. “I think that proves our point about her well enough; she doesn’t know a damn thing.”

“Gods, I— I can’t believe it, I—” Malvina stammered, as she sat back up.

The moment she was sat up, she held a hand out to Pinocchio, the boy wandering curiously over. He took her hand, squeaking as she pulled him down into a tight embrace. Pierrot followed suit, encasing the small puppet between them. Pinocchio looked up at both of them, his grin widening as he reciprocated.

“Thank you. You truly carry only wonders with you, Prokopiy,” Malvina murmured, the boy feeling emotion swell at her words.

“Hey! I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it would seem we’re in a little bit of trouble here.” Artemon suddenly called out, drawing the trio from their embrace to look over at him. Sitting on his shoulder was a kingfisher, holding an opened small scroll in its beak.

Malvina frowned, looking from Artemon down to Pinocchio. “Trouble? Is this why you guys came to find me?”

“We were looking for a place to hide originally but— that also yeah.” Pinocchio muttered as he pulled out of her hold, rubbing the back of his head.

“Karabas-Barabas is after the golden key,” Artemon piped up once more as he approached.

Malvina’s eyes narrowed, allowing both Artemon and Pierrot to help her back up onto her feet. “What in the world does he want with such magic?”

“To turn the people in his puppet shows into true, walking marionettes.” Artemon explained, his expression grave.

Malvina’s gaze grew dark, the sereneness fading as she spoke: “He should have no means of receiving it. Tortila-”

“Tortila doesn’t have the key any longer. She placed it in the care of the young sir here.” Artemon gestured at Pinocchio, who shuffled his feet awkwardly. The man gave the boy a soft smile, but his seriousness returned as he turned back to Malvina, taking the note from the kingfisher and holding it out to her. “But it would seem Mstislav is relentless. Her companion came with a message, saying he had managed to get the location of where the key was now out of her, and intends to wait for us near the door.”

Malvina took the note, the kingfisher taking off as she rapidly looked it over. Her blue gaze grew harder and angrier and she suddenly snapped: “That bastard! If he knows of their locations then there’s no time to waste. We need to get the book before he reaches the door and get it to safety.” She scrunched the paper up, a bright flash of light incinerating it in her palm as she began walking out of the clearing, the rest jogging to keep up with her.

“Wait, do we even know where the door is?” Pinocchio asked as he ran to keep up with Malvina.

The fairy slowed down and matched the boy’s pace.

“Reul Ghorm should know if we’re up to calling for her. She might answer to you, Pinocchio. Do you think you could try?” Malvina asked, looking down at the boy at her side.

Oh. Pinocchio glanced up, but as he was about to nod quietly, Artemon spoke up.

“You may not have to do that, young sire. Despite the limited knowledge my former um… master had given me about his plans, this is one of the things I remember him telling me.” The rest stopped, looking back as the man tapped his chin. “He said something about a hearth. An unlit hearth that’ll open the doorway to the book’s chamber.”

“That doesn’t really help much. And where would we find such a thing?” Malvina asked.

“Well… before I left, I was able to catch the location, I think! He mentioned a village not far from here. Coll- something.” Pierrot tried, massaging his temple as he seemingly worked to remember.

“Collodi?” Malvina asked, Pinocchio freezing up.

He knew that village!

“That would be it! Something about puppet-making and woodworks?” Pierrot mused out loud.

If he could pale, the puppet would have turned white as birch, the boy letting out a gasp and drawing the rest’s attention onto him.

“Papa! Papa’s a woodworker in Collodi, he’s after my papa’s home, isn’t he?” he cried, Malvina grinding her teeth together as she took his hand.

“Then there’s really no more time to waste, we need to go now!” she commanded, holding out her other hand to the other men, and whisking them away in a bright, pale flash.

— PRESENT —

Maybe a terrible idea on his part but… Pinocchio found himself leading the group down the long route back to the village, the need for a proper breather far greater than the need to get home as fast as possible. Especially with knowing what’s to come once he got there. At some point he had broken away from the hold Malvina had, sticking ahead of them with his hands in his pockets as he led the group down the hill. He could hear quiet conversations between the couple behind him, seeing them still linked arm to arm as they looked about the scenery. Iskra whickered next to him, trotting close to his side. He smiled down at her as he held his hand out relatively closely above her, watching the little mare hop up in her attempt to bump her head against it, an action that elicited a chuckle from him.

Talking remained minimal as of now, the two behind him occasionally bringing up topics completely different from what was currently their main objective, but it was nice. It was… normal. It felt normal. It was good to get his mind off of the mess even for just a moment. The talks would restart at home again anyway and over there they’d figure out what to do next.

As they reached the centre of the village, they saw a couple of riders making their way towards them. And not just any kind–

“Pinocchio!” Lancelot called out from atop his mare as he drew her to a halt. Next to him, on his grey stallion, was the prince. Neither of them were dressed in their usual armour, and while Pinocchio had grown accustomed to it from Henry, it was still an odd sight to see outside of his house.

“Lancelot! What are you two doing here?” he asked as he looked between both of the knights.

“I needed to talk to you. After we adjourned the court so abruptly, Henry was able to fill me in on what you discussed. I wanted to see how you felt about that choice. How you really felt about it,” the senior knight added, his gaze earnest.

Pinocchio’s expression softened. “You want my honesty on this?”

“I know that what is being asked of you in there is a lot… Something that no one should have been asked for, much less one that isn’t even in our armed ranks. Prophecies be damned!”

“And easier to do that here without someone listening in.” Henry chipped in with a mutter.

Pinocchio smiled sympathetically at the boy. It wasn’t hard to notice how annoyed the teen still was, even now after how everything had gone down, his every comment or action dismissed or taken over by someone else. His heart went out to Henry, but he had hope that in just a couple of years time it would get better. If they get out of this hell of a situation alive, that is.

“Well…” Pinocchio paused. “Can we… talk about this in private, please? I owe one more person an answer and would rather not keep him waiting either.”

Lancelot held his hand out, hoisting the woodcarver up into the saddle behind him. “Of course.”

Henry reached out, offering Malvina a hand of his own, but she shook her head with an assuring smile.

“I can meet you guys there,” Malvina stepped back, Pierrot standing alongside her as she waved her hand, the duo disappearing before them. As soon as they vanished, Henry urged his horse forward, Lancelot following suit as they rode down the streets and further away from the more dense part of the village. The amount of houses began to lessen until there was only one left closer to the village sign, tucked away in the undergrowth of the forest it was hiding by. Malvina and Pierrot stood outside by the road to it, waiting on the rest as they reached them.

“I can put the water on, and we can discuss further actions as well,” Pinocchio stated as hopped down from the mare, leading the way down towards the door.

“Further? What do you mean?” Henry called out, jogging after him

Pinocchio slowed to let the boy catch up, resuming his pace once the prince was at his side.

“I’ll explain as soon as we’re inside.” he grabbed the handle but as he moved to turn it the knob didn’t budge. Pinocchio frowned. “What the-” He shook the handle but it still wouldn’t move.

“Is it locked?” Pierrot asked.

“It shouldn’t be.” Pinocchio stated as he pulled his keys out and stuck one of them into the lock, the key turning seamlessly but no lock click being heard. “The lock was broken earlier. Lampwick wouldn’t have locked the door if he already replaced it without giving me the key.”

“I’m mean… given how you walked out-”

“That doesn’t matter. He’s not that petty to try and lock me out of my own house.” Pinocchio interjected as he shook the key once more, a little more forcefully, but froze. He looked at the key in his hand, feeling the strange thrum of magic surrounding the lock.

No…

Malvina moved over and grabbed the handle, her eyes narrowing warily. “I don’t think Lampwick was the one that locked it.”

Pinocchio paled, nerves knotting tremendously in his stomach.

No!

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Malvina asked.

No!!

He hit the door a couple of times. “Lampwick?! Grace!! Guys, say something please!!!” He called out urgently, pressing his ear against the door in hopes of hearing something… anything!! Any signs of life.

Gods, please!!

“Let me!” Henry called out, the sound of a sword being unsheathed reaching his ears. But nothing from inside. Fuck!!

“Sire, I don’t think you’re not going to get a door, that’s magically locked, open with a sword!” Pierrot pointed out.

As Pinocchio pulled back and went to bang on the door again, Malvina grabbed his raised fist, forcing the man to look over. She had a hand on Henry’s shoulder as well as she pulled them both back.

“Better to use something more reliable.” she suggested. Pinocchio looked to the door one more time. He looked at the woman and gave her a single nod. She let the two of them go and stepped around to face the door, one hand raised and pointed at the lock.

“Keep back.” she cautioned, as a bright, teal-coloured light began emitting from the palm of her hand.

— 1979 —

The haste to reach home never left the boy, even when the village came into view. Malvina had worked to make the journey easier for them too, apparating them from spot to spot as they reached the sign pointed towards it. Pinocchio had taken off running then, the others hot on his heels as they dashed through the village and past confused passersby. He continued until he reached the end of the road on the other side, seeing the cottage hidden amongst the foliage.

Papa… he was going to see his papa.

Oh, Gods, it’s been too long would his papa even recognise him or want him back?

Still the urgency of Karabas’ threat looming over them had Pinocchio immediately banging on the door. “Papa?! Papa!!” he called, pressing his ear against the door but hearing nothing.

“Don’t you have a key?” Pierrot asked, the rest having caught up to him.

“No I—I haven’t been home for a really, really long while,” Pinocchio admitted as he pulled away from the door.

“No worries, step aside,” Malvina piped up as she shouldered her way to the door.

Pinocchio hopped back, as the fairy pressed her hand against the lock of the door. There was a bright flash! and Malvina pulled the handle down, the door opening.

“Whoa!!” Pinocchio breathed, earning himself a wide grin from the fae.

“Magic isn’t just for wishes afterall,” she explained coyly, as she ushered everyone inside.

Once in, she pressed her hand over the lock once more, testing the knob and nodded with satisfaction when the door didn’t open.

“Okay! Now to find that door with a hearth!” Artemon exclaimed, having turned back from dog to human and limped over to one of the spare rooms. The group split up, each taking a different corner of the house to search in. Pinocchio made his way into the kitchen, checking inside cupboards and under the counter for anything that could resemble a door.

“What are we even looking for?” Pierrot called out from elsewhere. “Like is it a-a door with a painted hearth on it?”

“That’s the fickle part.” Artemon called back. “Mstislav wasn’t specific either, because I don’t think anyone really knows. It’s just something about an unlit hearth that’ll open the doorway.”

Pinocchio stopped, looking over at the unlit fire pit in the centre of the kitchen. He strode over with a frown as he glanced into the pit, staring down at the metal railings. “How literal do you think it could be?”

His question had Malvina look over and jog to his side.

“Let’s find out!” she hummed and waved her hand over the soot and ashes that lay beneath unlit logs.

In the time she whisked those away, the boys had made their way to their side, reaching the pit right as Malvina pulled out the grate (with Pierrot’s immediate assistance). Engraved into the ground was an isolated patch of stone. On it, was what looked to be a latch and a keyhole. Pinocchio’s grin widened.

“Well. Guess it was quite literal. Great job, lad.” Artemon praised, patting the boy on the head.

Pinocchio moved to get the key out, when the rattle of the door from behind made him freeze. Another rattle and an aggravated shout followed.

“I suppose your dad’s not the kind to lose his key, right?” Pierrot asked quietly.

“Don’t think so.” Pinocchio murmured as another series of thuds followed.

“By order of the king, open this door!” boomed the voice outside, the intensity and gruffness making the boy’s breath hitch.

Oh, that was definitely not his papa!

“Karabas!” Artemon hissed.

“Prokopiy!” Malvina called as she looked down at the puppet.

Pinocchio fumbled with the key in his hand, the urgency of the situation and banging outside doing him little favours in making this easier as he gripped the key and shoved it into the hole, giving it a turn. The second the lock clicked, Artemon jumped forward and grabbed the latch, Pierrot offering him his assistance as they heaved up the stone trapdoor. With a nod, Malvina and Pierrot dart down the stairs, the door splintering as another thud hit it from the other side. Pinocchio struggled with the key, Artemon ushering him back as he pulled it out and handed it to him, Pinocchio darting in with the human now turned dog darting in after him. Malvina threw her hand up, straining to levitate the stone door upwards and back into place, right as the door was thrust open. Pinocchio quickly shoved the key into the hole, locking it as they heard someone trying to break it open.

“Won’t he-”

“No. Not without the key.” Malvina breathed quietly, placing a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“And what about us now? Are we trapped?” Artemon asked.

“I doubt it.” Malvina huffed, the chamber suddenly filled with a gentle glow. Pinocchio’s eyes widened as Malvina’s hair glowed a gentle blue, the boy looking around.

Down below them there were more steps, leading into a deep darkness he couldn’t see anything in. The chasm by the step wasn’t of much help either, the puppet backing up until he was pressed against the wall. He looked up as Malvina offered her hand to him, the boy graciously taking it and clasping it tightly as she took a step down. She looked back at the rest of the group, nodding down at the flight of stairs as she spoke. “I’m sure we can find some way out of here.”

Pinocchio looked back, seeing Pierrot from behind giving her a smile. “Lead the way, my lady!” he called back, Malvina turning back to the front with a smile. Hand still around the puppet’s, she started leading the way down the steps, the group following in a silent single file line behind her and the light she cast.

— PRESENT —

He didn’t know how long he had been out for, really. Seconds? Minutes? Hours even? Hopefully not hours actually, oh Gods! But what he did know was that, when he did finally regain consciousness, Lampwick was sitting on the floor with his hands tied behind his back. His feet were too, and rather tightly at that. He felt something brush over his wrists, the man looking over his shoulder and seeing that Grace, looking equally groggily, was tied up behind him as well. Lovely. Just how he wanted to spend his evening, actually!

Still, there was no queen around or anything, the house completely quiet. With a shuffle, Lampwick scooted closer to Grace, fumbling around from behind as he reached into his back pocket for the knife he knew he should have in there still. He was sure the one he had pulled out earlier was already confiscated, so he only hoped Queen Bitch was too stupid to check his pockets for anymore.

Lo and behold, there it was! The man grinning widely in triumph as he eased the knife out, being careful with the blade as he brought it closer to their hands. From there began his task, carefully working on cutting through the binding. The sounds of footsteps only served to make him work faster, hoping and praying that she wasn’t about to walk out and see them. Gods they’d be done for sure.

“The hell is she doing?” Grace suddenly muttered.

“What?” Lampwick grunted.

“Do you hear that scraping?” Grace whispered.

Lampwick stopped his frantic sawing at the rope, listening silently to the sound in the backroom. The queen seemed to be pulling something heavy over. He wasn’t sure what that thing was but it was big and honestly? He’d much rather not find out. Right as he started hacking at the rope holding him and Grace, he heard the door rattle then thud.

“Lampwick?! Grace!! Guys, say something please!!!”

Lampwick would have sighed with relief on hearing Pinocchio on the other side, if it wasn’t for the direness of the current situation.

“Don’t. Let’s not alert her that we’re up. Need more time,” Lampwick hissed, as he began working on the rope again.

“Time?” Grace asked but Lampwick only continued to try and cut through the rope. He hacked at it harder when she glanced over her shoulder, the man seeing her grin widely. “Ah, I see.”

“Help me loosen it,” he muttered, feeling the bondage starting to loosen. As the scraping got louder, the ropes were cut loose, Grace and him immediately moving to cut their ankles free as well. All the while, Lampwick kept glancing behind them, his movements growing more urgent as she got closer.

He looked over, still hacking at his rope when the Queen stopped by them, the woman raising her arms upwards as she stretched. Behind her was what looked to be a wide tree trunk, a door carved into its centre. Geez, was she using magic to lug that over? He could just barely put it away with Pinocchio last time!

Unbeknownst to her however, Lampwick noticed the black and white cat stalking the lady, the man holding back a smirk as he worked through the final rope. The moment he managed to get through it, the queen looked down at them, her surprise followed by a scream as Figaro leapt at her from behind. The queen flailed around, stepping around and knocking into the cupboard in her panic, one of the puppets sitting on there falling to the floor.

Grace jumped to her feet, grabbing one of the queen’s arms and pulling it behind her back, Lampwick reacting in sync with her the second he was on his feet again, ignoring the chair standing close by that was quickly knocked over. With both of the queen’s arms behind her, Grace hastily wrapped the rope around her wrists, Lampwick holding the dagger against the woman’s neck, with a glare in his eyes to match her sneer.

“You think a toothpick like that is gonna end me?” The queen taunted, Lampwick holding the knife and her wrist just a little tighter.

She jerked her shoulder up, hitting Grace in the jaw and swung her other arm around to throw Lampwick off. As he hit the ground, he felt an invisible force pull him to the floor, the man dropping the knife as he pushed against what seemed to hold him against the ground. He heard a gasp, glancing up and seeing Grace grow stiff, the woman struggling to breathe despite no hand holding her neck. The Queen’s fist, however, tightened.

Lampwick grunted, feeling like something heavy was sunken deep within his chest and making it difficult to move. But Grace’s distress kept him struggling against the impossible weight as he cried out: “Let her go!!”

“You’ve half the mind to pick a fight with me!” The queen sneered.

There was a large, blinding flash catching the queen off guard as the door was thrown open, and out of the beam, Malvina darting in. Without a moment’s hesitation she threw her hand out, throwing the Evil Queen back into the wall, her hand remaining out as she approached. The hold the queen had on the two didn’t seem to lessen, as the sorceress curled her lips up in a snarl.

“Fucking— fairy!”

“Not quite, Your Majesty,” Malvina snipped back.

The queen scoffed. “And what are you gonna do? Kill me? How far you must have fallen, dear.”

Lampwick’s breath hitched as Pinocchio ran in, the man coming to a stop on seeing the commotion. His gaze darted from Lampwick to Grace, before looking down at the wardrobe, his eyes widening.

As relieved as he was to see the man alright, Grace’s struggle remained and Lampwick found his heart seizing in his chest.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!!!!

“No, but at least I can hold you down till we get the authorities to show their faces.” Malvina exclaimed, breaching through the woodcarver’s dazed attention. Lampwick looked over, noting the sudden anxiety that clouded the other woman’s face. “Scared now, aren’t you?”

“That’s enough! All of you, enough!” Pinocchio commanded, his voice loud and clear as Malvina turned to look at him. Her hold tentatively pulled back, but it was the Queen’s that Lampwick was concerned about the most. But the feeling that kept him from being able to pull himself off of the ground grew weaker. Grace crumpled to the floor in front of them, Pinocchio dropping to the floor to help her, but Lampwick had scrambled to her side faster, pulling the girl closer to him as she coughed and spluttered. Her breaths were shallow but she held onto his jacket. He paid no mind to the hand suddenly on his shoulder as he looked up at the sorceress that had caused all of this, his arm wrapping tighter around the woman he was cradling as he glared up at her.

The hand on his shoulder left, Pinocchio’s horror turning to frustration. “.....Is this how you pay people a visit?!” he asked harshly.

Lampwick looked up, almost as surprised as the queen that answered with a huff. “Well you're a lot sharper than Regina made you out to be”

“You magically locked my house up and attacked my friend and fiancé! Wh-what were you expecting after that? A warm welcome?” The man asked, the anger remaining.

Lampwick scoffed, glaring up at the queen once more. “Enough with the pleasantries, can we just get this bitch out?!”

“Watch your tongue before I take it, boy!” The Evil Queen snapped back, Malvina taking a step back and shielding all three of them from her view.

“Don’t even think of laying another hand on him!” she exclaimed.

“Stop!” Pinocchio exclaimed, the room falling quiet. He sighed, Lampwick looking up curiously as the woodcarver turned to the front door. “You three: get in and shut the door.”

Pierrot arched a brow up. “Seriously?! Shouldn’t we be tying her up and-”

“Shut the door! Just— just trust me here, Pierrot, please,” Pinocchio exclaimed. Pierrot sighed, ushering Lancelot and Henry in before hurriedly closing the door. Pinocchio looked around the room before moving across the kitchen, sidestepping the chair still on the floor, as he reached the windows, pulling the curtains over. “Close the rest of the curtains, no one can know she’s here. The uproar she’s already causing in town is insane.”

“We could just hand her over and be done with it all,” Grace croaked, looking up at the man. Lampwick nodded in unison.

Why in the blazes were they trying to hide her all of a sudden?

Pinocchio huffed. “Yeah well if she were really looking to hurt us, the house would be up in flames already, believe it or not. Besides, this isn’t the right queen we’d be handing over.”

Lampwick’s gaze narrowed following his lover’s line of sight to the massive tree trunk sitting in the corridor. He let out a breath as the pieces fell into place. Oh!

“Wait. Is this the other realm Evil Queen you were talking about for weeks on end?” Henry asked, looking warily between both the woodcarver, the wardrobe and the queen.

“I’d assume so. The, uh, evil half of her. No offence,” Pinocchio added, Lampwick withholding a scoff at slight doubt in his voice.

The Queen sniffed. “Offence taken, I’m doing better now!”

“Mhmm right.” Pinocchio hummed, as he looked around.“Where’s the kid?”

Lampwick hissed as he helped Grace to her feet again. “Oh shit, I’ll go find her!” With quick steps he darted away from the group. Figaro meowed from next to the counter, pawing at something from underneath it. There was a quiet yap, Lampwick smirking with a “Nevermind! Cat beat me to it!” as he crouched down to take a look himself. Sure enough, Bethan sat cowering as a puppy under the counter, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. He carefully reached under, grabbed her by the scruff, despite her whining protests and pulled her out.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he heard Pinocchio ask, as he pulled the squirming canine now turned child out, before setting her down on the floor. “Half the town is looking for you, Regina. Why’d you come back?”

The child sat glaring up at him before she crossed her arms over her chest, turning her back to him. Oh great so he’s got a child that hates him now? Great!

“Well actually, Regina and our son sent me away to get a fresh start elsewhere. I figured my life would be a lot easier. Turns out the good guys still have their twisted sense of humour and sent me here instead.” The queen explained in the background. “I came over to find the wardrobe and make my way back or find some… other realm.”

“I see.” came Pinocchio’s response.

The man looked up, seeing Grace standing and looking down at him curiously, before she crouched before the child, holding her arms out. With a little hesitance, the toddler wrapped her arms around Grace who embraced her in an immediate hug and lifted her up. The man pouted up at the duo, seeing Grace grin smugly back as she walked to the rest of the group. 'Damn what’s he gotta do to earn some trust around here?’ He wondered as he jumped to his feet and followed suit.

The Queen sighed. “Well if that’ll be all. Sorry for the… mess, I think.”

“Actually. What if you had another alternative?” Pinocchio asked.

“Like what?” She stopped and looked back. “Got yourself a spell that could alter everyone’s memories around here or something?”

“Well— no. Nor would I want one.” he paused, Lampwick withholding a chuckle at how baffled his beloved looked. “And… that wasn’t what I was looking to suggest either. Perhaps you could try and better your name around here instead?”

What?

The Queen scoffed. “Thanks but no. I’ve been through that already.”

“Then prove it.” Grace piped up as she shifted Beth in her hold. “Prove that you’re as good as you claim.”

The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t it enough that I kept you alive?!”

“Not to the people of this realm it isn’t. Not for the crimes you committed, not for the curse you almost cast, and the lives you took. Not to mention you murdered my grandparents and freed the Dark One!” Henry exclaimed, looking equally as annoyed as Lampwick felt.

“That! Wasn’t me-”

“But they all think it is,” Pinocchio pointed out.

“Well we’ve— I’ve already made up for that! In my realm,” The Queen claimed.

Lampwick ground his teeth together. Always about the other realm. Fuck the other realm it’s not like that’s been shown here after what she just did! He stepped up with his hands in his pockets as he exclaimed: “Then show it! Why keep claiming you’re good when you’re not doing anything!”

“How! How do you want me to show that?! What, you want me to start sprouting angel wings? Maybe a halo for good measure? Give all the money out to the poor, what the hell do you want me to do?!” The Queen ranted.

“Could help us save the kingdom.” Pinocchio shrugged.

Okay. Now he definitely wasn’t mistaken on what he thought he heard him say the first time around.

“What?” The Queen asked.

“Pinocchio..? What are you doing?” Lampwick added carefully.

“What I’m doing is… well actually I don’t know what.” The woodcarver sighed as he leaned against the wall, “I’ve not been sure since the start but maybe instead of just setting out like the council had planned we try something else.”

Lampwick couldn’t help but smirk. “We, you say?”

“This is hardly a one-man job and admittedly I’m not cut out for this in the least bit.” Pinocchio admitted, looking down at the Prince standing close by, guilt shining in his bright blue eyes. “I’m no hero nor is there any prophecy that tied me to this sword, it was all a huge mistake. I only found it.”

Henry bristled a touch, looking surprised. But his surprise faded as he narrowed his eyes up at the woodcarver and pointedly asked: “Then why didn't you say anything?”

“With all eyes on you and you’re nothing but a cowardly fool, take your shot at disappointing everyone. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, knowing it’ll probably crush them, regardless of what weight I had to bear instead. Even if it was at the cost of my own life.” Pinocchio huffed, Lampwick noting the brief flash of fear across the prince’s gaze before it disappeared into nothing.

“Whatever, what’s done is done. But perhaps we could find our own means of taking down this Mordred. And not just through direct action like the others wanted.” Pinocchio continued.

“How then?” Henry asked.

Lampwick wandered over to Pinocchio as the room fell quiet.

“What if we freed Merlin himself?” Lancelot piped up, his words causing the child in Grace’s arms to sit up. “He’s trapped, he’s still stuck in Camelot as a tree. If we could break him out of his prison, maybe we stand a better chance against Mordred?”

“We’re getting apa back?” Bethan asked.

“That actually doesn’t sound half bad!” Pierrot added with a grin. “Maybe we’ll get another chosen one out of this too that will take the tough guy down! What say you, Pinoke?”

Pinocchio stood still, seemingly pondering. But when Lampwick looked down at the man, he could see a small grin spreading across his face, growing wider as he looked up. “I’d say let’s get ourselves a powerful sorcerer.” he nodded. “He might be our best chance. Not to mention the kid’s finally got a chance at getting her family back.”

Lancelot exhaled with his arms crossed over his chest. “Guess that settles it then. We can set out in the-”

“Pinocchio? Are you there?!”

Blue’s voice along with a knock on the front door, had everyone freezing up and glancing over.

“Yeah I don't think we’re getting a say in the matter.” Lampwick muttered, as the knocking persisted. As luck would have it, it seemed she wasn’t alone, the sounds of other people filtering past the door being heard as well. From the back as well.

“Shit.” Pinocchio grimaced, as Wick turned his attention to the assumed source of this occurrence.

“Well thanks for leading the mob to our place. Didn’t think to be discrinct, queenie?” he sneered, earning himself a glare from the woman.

“Regina. And that’s discreet, you half-witted mule. A queen must always ensure her entrance is remembered.”

The snobbery was already enough to make Lampwick pissed, but being labelled a jackass— He stepped a little closer, hand balled into a fist, when Pinocchio pulled him back.

“There’s no time for this. Queeni- uh, y-your majesty. Are you in or are you out?” Pinocchio asked quietly.

The Queen scoffed quietly. “Well not like I’ve anywhere else planned to go anyway, so.” she shrugged, Pinocchio giving her a nod as he pulled a string out. On that string was a large, golden key. Lampwick’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen that key in so long. Yet the man always seemed to have it on him, never taking it off, keeping it hidden from the world’s prying eyes. He looked on curiously as he gave it to Malvina.

“You know what to do, Mal. And not a word out of anyone right now, understand?” Pinocchio added, as Malvina walked over to the firepit, and waved her hand over it. There was a click as a trapdoor was opened from inside the fire pit. Huh. How long was that there?!

Pinocchio hurried over, waving the rest to his side. “Go. She can’t know you’re here. We’ll join you soon.” he whispered, ushering the Queen through. He looked up at the Prince as he was about to step in as well. “Henry, you need to go home.”

“No chance. I’m coming with you guys. I’m not a baby that needs shielding. This is my kingdom first and I will help protect it,” The prince exclaimed in a harsh whisper. Pinocchio looked like he was about to relent yet stopped with a sigh.

“Fine. Go in as well. You too Lancelot. Actually no you both stay put.” He shooed them back. “Wait! Regina, take the kid with you.” he called quietly into the gap.

“Pinocchio?!” Blue’s voice sounded from the other side albeit more urgently this time.

“I’ve got her, don’t worry.” Grace whispered, readjusting Bethan in her hold as she stepped down the stairs.

Pinocchio grabbed the table cloth and threw it over the tree stump wardrobe, ensuring it was all completely covered by it before breathing in deeply and opening the door. Lampwick shut the trapdoor, as Pinocchio opened the front.

The fairy stood by the door, albeit impatiently, waiting for the house’s residence to open up. A couple of guards stood at her side, one of the villagers standing closeby. The stir that had been caused by the war was one thing, but the mentions from many that The Evil Queen had been walking around the village was a threat that no one had wanted to put up with. The hopes that she wasn’t at full power remained strong, Blue hoping that this would be a simple matter, easily taken care of. The mentions of her reaching this house in particular, though, concerned her. She knew what Pinocchio had in store in his household. And she knew what dangers lay if the Queen had found it.

Who knew what sort of beyond realm catastrophe the queen could have unleashed if she reached beyond their realm.

The consequences could be endless.

And, well, nevermind what might have happened if Pinocchio had stood in her path. Gods help them if he wasn’t okay. Especially with their chances of ensuring the realm’s future and ending Mordred’s tyranny being at stake too.

Her anxieties were quickly qualmed however, when the woodcarver himself opened the door, the fae’s shoulders relaxing.

“Oh Blue!” The woodcarver grinned softly. “Is— there a problem?”

The Blue Fairy straightened up, her relief fading to nothingness as she addressed the man. “There were reports of The Evil Queen being seen around here, particularly making her way to your door. Came to check and ensure that everything was alright.”

Pinocchio’s expression barely changed as he waved dismissively. “Oh yeah everything’s just fine! There was no queen around here.”

Blue’s gaze narrowed. “Are you certain?”

She watched a little of the casualness start to fade, giving way to a brief flash of nervousness. Still, the response she received was as carefree as the last. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”

Hm.

“Then what was with all the commotion that I heard!” one of the villagers called out from around the building, Pinocchio looking around to see who it was.

“Not to mention you were outside!” cried another.

“With the prince too!” added one more, the very one standing next to Blue.

“I’m here every other week! Why’s that an issue right now?” Henry called out from inside the house. Blue looked around the woodcarver to see the prince with his foot tapping with annoyance.

“Also the door got stuck. Happens quite often, especially in the winter.” Pinocchio added with a shrug. “As for the commotion we were… putting on a puppet show!” he added with a grin.

“Right and imitating a woman's voice.” The same villager asked, Blue looking over and seeing the doubt in their gaze.

Pinocchio’s grin only seemed to widen. “Yep!”

“A man of remarkable talent as you can see.” Lampwick peeked around, wrapping an arm over the man’s shoulder with a grin.

Pinocchio smiled, Blue’s gaze narrowing at how almost forced it seemed. “Of course, Malvina helped a little but yes that was... It was all my doing. There's no one else here except us six.”

A quiet neigh drew their attention downwards, Iskra standing at the doorway all of a sudden, large ears attentive and tail swishing behind her.

“Well, seven.” Pinocchio corrected with a chuckle.

Blue remained doubtful as she looked around behind the man. She spotted the varying items on the floor. There was the back of a chair poking out from around the corner and the puppets that Pinocchio was talking about, she assumed, lay discarded on the floor close by. Further down the corridor she could see something large but obscured by a tablecloth. The villagers milling around her kept her mouth shut about that for the time being as she turned to the couple still standing by the door.

“And the mess?” she asked.

“We’re renovating a little too, see. Jus’ doing a little reorganising. Started getting everything out and make sure all’s forcounted,” Lampwick explained, Blue arching a brow up at his words.

Forcounted. What did-

“Accounted for, dear.” Blue heard Zvez- no, Malvina state.

Ah.

“Shut up.” Lampwick said, his smirk and eyes still glued on The Blue Fairy. “We’re just taking a break for a short second, after we got the puppets out.”

Blue sighed, the taller man still refusing to break eye-contact with her. Typical. “Right.” She hummed, as she stared back, unimpressed, at the man standing at Pinocchio’s side. Interactions like this with him weren’t a rarity really. Despite the lack of any… real hostility it was still a clear sign that she wasn’t welcome here right now. But she knew for certain that something was definitely going on here. And she wasn’t the least bit of a fan of that either.

Still, she huffed and turned her attention back to the woodcarver as she addressed him once more. “Pinocchio, I also came here because of one other matter. We intend to have another discussion tomorrow. Regarding… delicate matters. I can expect you to be there, yes?”

“Of course, Blue,” he nodded.

Satisfied, she turned and walked away, hearing the door close behind her. She heard the villagers muttering amongst themselves as they left, less than pleasant comments leaving their mouths about the altercation that had occurred. She paid it little mind. To each their own, she supposed, as she waved her wand, portalling herself and the guards back in front of the Royal Palace.

She mulled over the woodcarver’s words quietly as she walked back inside, growing more and more certain that there was something entirely amiss. That he might even be lying to her. She couldn’t help but feel a touch disappointed in him as she pondered. Years have passed and it would seem that the man had yet to learn from past mistakes. But even now it would seem he had yet to change still. A shame really.

It was that and the feeling of how… flighty the man seemed. It left the Blue Fairy with a bad feeling of what may come. While she wasn’t one to deny a prophecy, she wondered if this really was the right choice, if Pinocchio would do as requested, or if it’d once again take until the near bitter end to approach for him to finally rise up.

She stopped once she was inside the council chamber, her eyes drifting to the crested table. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, their table will contain a full house once more. Maybe they could make better progress then.

Pinocchio watched on as the Blue fairy walked away, the tension he had worked to hide finally leaving him the further away she left.

Gods, at least that was over.

“So fucking glad that whole shit with your wooden nose is no longer a thing, or we’d be done for.” Lampwick murmured above him, as the woodcarver closed the door.

The minute the door clicked shut, he looked over, unimpressed at his beloved.

“Renovation? Really? Does it look like we’re renovating?!” he asked.

Lampwick shrugged. “It’s an okay excuse to make, I mean-!” he gestured to the space around them and the strewn around items still on the floor. “It’s a better excuse than ‘We're putting on a puppet show’, Pinks.”

Pinocchio scoffed as he picked the chair up. “At least it's more believable than reorganising or renovating when our house doesn't even look it??” he rolled his eyes as Lampwick waved a dismissive hand.

“Semantics, darling. She took the bait, so why worry over everything else?” he laughed until he saw Malvina and Pierrot walking to the door.

“Where are you two going?”

“We’ll go around and meet you at the cave.” Malvina explained, Lampwick noticing from the corner of his eye, as Lancelot opened the trapdoor once more. “We need to retrieve our stuff anyway.”

“Think you could maybe take a few of our belongings as well?” Lampwick asked as he pulled a sack from the rack when they opened the door. Standing outside was Iskra once more, having not left her post. The minute she spotted the bag, she hopped over the threshold and walked over.

“Just let the little steed of yours take it,” Pierrot commented as he gestured at her.

Lampwick took immediate offence, as he ground back a- “She’s not a pack mule?!”

“It’s fine, I can take it.”

Pinocchio paused as the thought entered his mind, looking down at the little mare standing in the middle of the hallway. He shrugged, looking up at Lampwick to see what he had to say on the matter. The man in question sighed, muttering something under his breath as he jogged up the stairs, the pony following quickly behind him like an eager puppy.

As Malvina gave the woodcarver a wave, she flinched back in surprise at something at the door, Pinocchio looking up as she suddenly exclaimed.

“Oh, Taliesin!”

Pinocchio frowned. Why was he here?

The man in question was panting, gulping on air as he spoke. “My fairest lady, what brings you here?”

“Visiting an old friend. And you?” Malvina explained, with a glance at Pinocchio as he walked over from his scavenge for supplies.

“I witnessed the bustle and heard the calls of our dear chosen here fending for his life against an evil sorceress. My natural curiosity got the best of me, you see, and I couldn’t help but sate it with the knowledge of whether he had fared successfully or not so much,” the bard explained, Pinocchio’s smile slightly fading.

Lords above, there wasn’t even that big of a commotion! Nothing was set on fire. Just what sort of fight were they expecting? If the queen had really picked one, they’d all be burnt to a crisp already before anyone here could even unsheathe a blade. Much less a broken one.

“Right, thanks for that, I think, but we’re sort of busy right now so I’ve no time to-”

“Oh, where is it that you’re headed?!” Taliesin interrupted as he walked inside. “Don’t tell me our fair hero is running away from his duties.”

Pinocchio stopped his packing and looked over. “No.” Not that I don’t want to. “Actually, we’re on our way to Camelot. Lancelot suggested freeing Merlin as a means of taking down this Mordred.”

“Now that is some genius thinking indeed!” He heard the bard exclaim, as he continued to grab for the essentials, seeing Lampwick climb down soon enough, Iskra hopping ahead of him. “Oh goodness! Suppose I should grab my belongings.”

“The f- why?!” Lampwick suddenly asked, looking down at the bard already merrily waltzing towards the door.

“You’re coming with us?” Pinocchio added, finally making him stop.

“I simply can’t resist the call of adventure, young sir.” Taliesin proclaimed with a hand on his chest as he looked back with a grin. “And besides. While Lancelot may know the realm from the past, Camelot’s grown and changed since then. You’ll need a proper guide across those plains.”

Pinocchio shrugged. Suppose that was a good point to make. And it wasn’t like he was really able to argue.“Suit yourself. Just stick with the other two, they know the way to the cave.”

“Of course, of course!” he waved dismissively as he ran after Pierrot and Malvina.

Pinocchio let out a breath as he shut the door. Looking at the varying items in the bag; extra clothing, food, camping supplies. As Lampwick walked past, he handed him a knife, much to the man’s displeasure. But he supposed there was no way around it. He was going to have to hold a weapon of some sorts throughout this whole ordeal anyway. May as well get used to it.

So he strapped the sheathe to his belt, noting one very important thing missing.

Shit, he left the sword upstairs!

“You haven’t!” Iskra’s voice murmured in his head.

Pinocchio stopped his walk to the staircase, the little pony pulling out the bundle from Lampwick’s bag. The moment she did, the linen that was wrapped around it fell, revealing the sword it was hiding from all. Pinocchio let out a quiet sigh of relief as he approached.

“Oh, thank you both!” he sighed as he took it from the pony, giving her a pet before strapping the sword to his belt. A hand found his own as soon as he had it on there, seeing his betrothed looking at him, his expression full of concern. “Are you sure about all of this?” he asked. “Is this something that you want to do?”

It was moments like this that made Pinocchio truly realise just who he had fallen for. Nevermind the rambunctiousness and stubbornness, those were the man’s core traits and while he didn’t always agree with them he still adored him for them, but when it came down to it, he always knew that there was one person that was standing by and ready to help him back on his feet and stand at his side. The concern was genuine. As much of a jerk as he could be, his worry and concern for others had always been genuine. And it was a rarity to bear witness to, but being a subject of it always brought the man’s heart up to his throat. Even at the brink of a war his worry was first for him…?

Gods, what did he do to deserve such a thing in his life?

He smiled, turning his wrist and taking Lampwick’s hand giving it an assuring squeeze.

“I’m sure. This is something I want to do. I want us to do.” he concluded, Lampwick smiling in turn.

Lampwick pulled back with a cough as he rummaged through his back, his usual frown returning as he muttered a checklist quietly to himself. “How dark is it going to be down there?” he asked out loud.

Pinocchio slung his bag over his shoulders, despite the insistence of the tiny pony at his feet. “Pretty dark but I’m sure, umm… Queenie, could perhaps offer some assistance down there.”

Lampwick nodded, as he too was about to throw the bag over his shoulder, only for Iskra to jump up and grab it, glaring up at him when he attempted to protest. Pinocchio laughed, shaking his head at the exasperation of his betrothed, watching the pony stomp around the kitchen proudly bearing the satchel as though it was a badge of honour.

“Okay. Are you two ready?” he asked as he walked over to the firepit, opening the latch once more. He gestured with his hand, looking and seeing the glow from further inside already. “After you, love.”

Lampwick eased his way into the trapdoor, walking down the steps as carefully as he could. Iskra hopped in after him, Pinocchio seeing her float around through the air. The man sighed, about to walk in as well, when a shrill meow caught his attention. He looked down at the cat circling around his feet, realising one grave issue with his plan.

He had nowhere to leave Figaro.

He could leave him here, he knew Eugene was often walking through town and gathering strays and to look after —frankly he’d see him more than hear of their landowner— so he knew the Prince and Lancelot’s horses would be fine outside. And he’d gather that if he hasn’t left the house in, like, two days, then Eugene would find the cat. But did he really want to give him that kind of burden to deal with?

He sighed, shaking his head as he picked the tom up.

“You may as well come with, Figaro.” he murmured as he placed the cat to wander carefully down the stairs and grabbed the latch above him. The trapdoor closed, with a click of its lock muffled by the stone, and the only sound remaining in the room, was the assortment of ticking clocks on the walls and cupboards.

— 1979 —

With nothing but the dark chasm surrounding them, and Malvina’s cool yet gentle light to guide them, the group walked on down the steps. The wooden puppet hadn’t let the fairy’s hand go since they started walking, Pinocchio sticking close to her all the while.

“It feels as though we’ve been walking for hours!” Pierrot proclaimed, looking around.

“We might have. It’s hard to say.” Artemon added.

The group fell quiet again, until there was a sound of shuffling from behind the wooden boy. It was followed by the sound of a rock hitting the stone floor, and someone giving a low whistle.

“Huh! Not far now.” Pierrot exclaimed.

The quiet continued, until the boy heard Pierrot start to sing quietly to himself, joined by the guardsman walking alongside him. Their energy was contagious, Pinocchio having to stop himself from bouncing along as they walked the steps. Next to him, Malvina let out a breath, the woman smiling all the while. He couldn’t help but smile as well, especially when she glanced down at him and gave the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze.

They reached the bottom of the steps, but the song never ended, even as they wandered deeper into the cave. Pinocchio’s eyes were wide as he looked around, until he saw something that caught his attention.

“There it is!” he pointed, letting Malvina’s hand go and running closer to inspect the item. He reached a stone pedestal that was about twice the boy’s height as he reached it. On it sat a massive book, wrapped in leather. He strained to look up at it, Pierrot swooping in and, picking the puppet up, sat him on his shoulders. Scrawled on the top were strange markings, ones he’d never seen before. They weren’t like the letters or numbers he’d learned about in school. It was strange but also… he couldn’t help but feel wonder on seeing such a thing.

“It’s a lot bigger than I expected it to be.” Artemon commented.

“Given it’s most likely filled with a lot of potions and powerful spells, it’s not really much of a surprise.” Malvina pointed out as she looked at the two still holding one another up and looking at the book. “I feel you may be the only one that can take it off the pedestal, Prokopiy.” she stated, Pinocchio looking over and then down at the large tome itself.

“Should we take it though? Won’t that— isn’t that going to put it in even more danger?” Pinocchio asked.

He expected Malvina to grow annoyed at his question, but all he was met with was a quiet calm as she looked between the tome and him. “I can’t really say because I don’t know what could happen once we have it.” she admitted, the boy looking up in surprise. “I can’t say if it’s worse if we take it in hopes of getting it some place safer, or if the journey there is what would end up costing us our lives.” she sighed, “You’re the keeper of the book right now however, and despite us having come all this way, you have the freedom to say what you want to do. Choose what you feel is right, Prokopiy. And we’ll follow.”

The look she gave him was quiet and genuine. Nothing about it screamed that there was only one choice. It took the puppet off-guard. Frankly the fact that she gave him such an answer at all, much less one that was as uncertain as he felt, was strange enough. Pinocchio remained quiet as he looked between the book and Malvina. He had a choice. He was… allowed to make a choice.

He breathed out as he nodded, as Pierrot held him out towards the tome, Pinocchio lifting it up with strain off of the pedestal. The second it was away from it, the grimoire slipped from the boy’s hands, falling to the floor with a clatter. He grimaced as Pierrot placed him down, gathering the tome up and holding it close to his chest.

“Okay. What now?” he asked, looking up at the Fairy.

“Now you’ll give it to me. And be on your merry, ‘erry little ways!” a new voice chimed in, with a strange giggle accompanying his words.

The boy froze as he turned, seeing the tall man standing in front of them. His hair was wild and his skin seemed to strangely sparkle. But it was the strange grin he had on his face that made the boy even more nervous. Malvina’s hand grabbed Pinocchio as she pulled him behind her.

“How in the world did you-”

“Why, through the cave of course!” The Dark One interjected, teeth showing as he gestured grandly towards a chasm far beyond them. “The minute that book was taken off of the pedestal, the cloaking spell the cave had over itself faded so I simply— walked on in.” The grin never faded as he looked down at the puppet hiding behind the fairy, Pinocchio shrinking back further. “Now hand over the book.”

“As if he’s foolish enough to do so!” Malvina exclaimed sharply, Pinocchio smiling up at her.

“Well, I’m sure if there was a little— initiative.” The man smiled slyly as he held up a single little string necklace, waving it around with a hum on his lips. Pinocchio blinked, looking down at his chest and seeing that his necklace was gone.

No, no!!

“That’s-!”

“Fascinating how the smallest things can matter to a person, hm?” The Dark one mused as he played around with the item. “You know, I’ve seen the old man recently, actually. Said something about setting out to sea to look for his dear boy.”

Pinocchio stopped, eyes wide. “You’ve seen my papa?”

“Or was it years ago…?” The Dark One continued, as though he hadn’t even heard him.

Years…? Was— did his-

“Please… where is he, have you really seen him?” he asked quietly as he peeked out more from behind the fairy.

“Ah-tah-tah-tah-tah!” The Dark One tutted rhythmically, waggling his finger to the makeshift beat. “Not something for nothing, little puppet.” he grinned. “The book, and I can show you where he is.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Pierrot asked, making the strange man scoff.

“Do I look like a man not of my word? How about this instead? A show of trrrust!” With a wave of his hands the necklace started to glow, before the glow faded. “You give me the book, and this, now, enchanted necklace will show you the way directly to your father. The brighter it glows, the closer he is! What an easy, peasy, funny game of hide and find!” The Dark one chimed, holding the string towards the exit of the tunnel, Pinocchio watching with wonder as it faintly started glowing again. He pulled it back as he leaned closer towards the little wooden boy, Malvina leaning back in tow to further shield him, though that did little to deter him as he smirked. “Do we have ourselves a deal?”

Pinocchio looked on at the string, then down at the book again. He hugged it a little closer to his chest. He didn’t know what to do!! He wanted to find his father but …. But there’s also the people that may be in danger if this got into the wrong hands. And this man was working with Karabas from what he gathered which is the exact wrong hand and he shouldn’t give it to him. A small nudge had him looking up, seeing Malvina’s unrelenting gaze still staring off with the man.

“Pinocchio. Remember what I said earlier? About making a choice?” she asked, her gaze still trained on the Dark One.

“But what if it's wrong?” Pinocchio asked.

“In the end, it's up to you to decide what seems right and wrong here to you. You're the keeper of the key. And also the keeper of the book. Trust your heart, Prokopiy.” She continued, finally glancing back and giving him a smile. The same one she gave earlier.

Pinocchio looked down at the book in his hand before peeking around Malvina once more, staring up at the Dark One. “...What are you going to do with the book?” he asked quietly.

The Dark One scoffed. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you made a deal with a man that wanted to use this book to hurt people!” The puppet cried, holding the book a little tighter as he glared up at the man.

“Well, do you see him here?” The man scoffed, gesturing wildly to the open space around them. “Do you see him present? A deals a deals, a deal! He was supposed to bring the book to me himself. But since he failed to do so, the deal is off. Happy now?”

“Just like that? The deal's off, just like that.” Artemon asked, his voice sounding as disbelieving as Pinocchio felt.

“Yes, yes, just like that. Now hand over the book, boy!” The Dark One waggled his finger at the puppet.

“Wait so— you’re not gonna help Karabas then?” Pierrot interjected, the Dark One letting out an impatient scoff.

“Well, I can’t do anything with a man that can’t keep his word. Besides there are much more— interesting subjects that I could be working with than some crazed puppeteer.” he grinned widely, once again dangling the string over the boy as though it were his greatest prize. “So?”

Pinocchio looked down at the book again, then up at the string. His gaze travelled to his companions, and he whipped around to look up at the man again, eyes wide as he asked: “Could you… maybe help Malvina, Pierrot and Artemon get home too? Back to the cottage in the woods?”

The Dark One scoffed, irritation starting to really show. “Oh I’m not some fairy wishing well! You either get the string or they get home! Unless this is you looking to make another little deal with me, hm?” he added, as a smirk snaked across his face.

Pinocchio reeled back, humming softly under his breath as he looked at the string again.

“It’s okay, Pinokes! We can find our way back. Take the string if this is the choice you’re making.” Pierrot assured, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“But-!”

“It’s okay, Prokopiy. Your papa needs to be found too, dear,” Malvina murmured as she glanced down as well.

Pinocchio looked at the string again. Papa or getting his friends home… Gods, so many choices right now and none of them felt right! He wanted to find his papa, so so very much but—

Pinoncchio looked at the book again, glancing back at Malvina before he sighed, his mind made up as he stepped up to the Dark One. “I— I accept the deal. I’ll give you the book, if you send them back home.” he stated, unaware of the shock the rest wore.

“Pinocchio?!”

The Dark One only giggled. “Wonderful!” With a skip and a wave of his hand, the trio behind the boy disappeared, Pinocchio looking behind nervously for one final time.

“Thank you.” Pinocchio bowed his head, not seeing the surprise the man had as he did so.

The light in the room had disappeared until the Dark One produced a fireball in his hand, tossing it at the pedestal where it remained alight. With another breath, Pinocchio readjusted the grimoire in his arms, standing up on the tip of his toes towards the man who swiftly snatched it up in his hold. He noticed on his chest that the string had returned, the boy touching it silently yet gratefully. Without a second more wasted, he turned towards the path the man had previously pointed out as he started walking, unaware of the look the Dark One gave him as he walked.

No, his focus was on his papa. He needed to find his papa. He wanted to- it was much needed-!

“If you keep due Northwest, you’ll come across Cane Bay. The locals may be able to further point you on your way.”

Pinocchio whipped around, eyes wildly darting around the cavern. But the only one standing there was him and him alone, with a path leading deeper inside the cavern suddenly illuminated by torches.

Chapter Text

The steps had been equally as exhausting and long, like he remembered them being that first time. But they soon made it down with little hassle. The group of seven and their furred companions stayed the night inside the cave itself, embarking on the journey out after sleeping off the night. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep for, before he was shaken awake by Lampwick. But the group was eager to get out of the tunnel and back out into broad daylight. Here they stood now, waiting by the cave for the remainder of the group to return.

It had been a good few hours now as Pinocchio shifted his weight. Next to him, Bethan had sat on the ground, much to his dislike. He reached down and hoisted her up, settling the toddler on his side as he heard a sigh from the group. He could see the impatience on some of his companions' gazes, already bracing himself for the inevitable question that was to come from any of them.

“How long is it going to take them?” The Evil Queen scoffed as she glanced around.

This was the third time that question had rung out and it was starting to annoy the woodcarver. Patience was a virtue barely anyone here seemed to possess. He heard his fiancé grunt next to him, the man wearing the annoyance Pinocchio felt clear as day on his face as he piped up:

“Oh quit yer whining, Queenie!”

The queen glared. “It’s a simple question! Can’t I ask one simple question? We’ve been here for hours at least. It can’t take that long to pack up and get over here!”

“And?” Grace chimed in. “It’s not gonna make them get here any faster if you keep asking. Let them reach us at their own pace. It’s not gonna kill you.”

“You never know.” The queen muttered as she walked a little distance away.

“Don’t get my hopes up.” Pinocchio heard Henry huff, seeing the prince with his arms crossed over his chest. His own annoyance with the situation was visible, as he tapped his foot impatiently on the ground.

Lampwick huffed as well, staring after the queen with a sneer on his lips. “Jus’ be glad you’re down here and not up there and getting arrested. Again. And getting banished like you deserve to!”

“I said I was doing better!” The queen spun around and snapped, electricity crackling through the air.

Pinocchio groaned as Lampwick straightened up. He was quick to step in and cut off any retort his lover could even hope to say.

“Guys enough, please!”

Lampwick looked over before scoffing, as he sat back down on the ground. The Queen’s hand relaxed as well as she turned away and walked off a short distance. Pinocchio sighed as he shifted Beth’s weight in his arms, frowning at the way she huddled up close to him.

Shit, maybe he should have taken a coat for her.

“So you mentioned discussing more about this whole… plan.” Henry piped up, successfully pulling the man out of his thoughts.

Pinocchio nodded. “Yeah, I did. And I still want to. Once Malvina, Pierrot and Taliesin catch up, we can set off and discuss along the way.”

“Taliesin?” Henry frowned. “He’s coming too?”

“He insisted. Said he knew the way best.”

“Like we’re so incompetent that we can’t read maps.” Lampwick muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Well that statement may ring true for you, Wicky,” Grace retorted with a smirk, Pinocchio shaking his head as Lampwick glared at her and the two devolved to childish bickering next to him.

“Ta-taliesin?” Asked a small voice, Pinocchio looking away from the distraction and down at the toddler. Her little arms clasped tightly around his neck, head resting on his shoulders as she stared up at him with wide eyes. “He’s here?”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her, feeling her shiver against him and shut her eyes once more. “Is that good or bad?” he asked quietly and watched a smile spread across her face as the toddler wiggled happily. Good. So that was… that was good then.

“Feels weird seeing her like that. In the old realm she’s bigger.”

Pinocchio looked up as the queen spoke, her words drawing others' attention as well.

“Wait, she got to grow up there?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Broke the curse the second she crossed the realms.”

The man looked on in astonishment, Bethan shifting in his hold and glancing up as well.

“Though her closeness with you hasn’t changed, it would seem.” The queen concluded, grinning.

Pinocchio frowned, exchanging a glance with Lampwick who could only offer him a shrug. “We literally just met.”

“Well over there it was much different. Like I said, you two were close.” The woman snorted, grin still on her face. “Snappy little woman, that one. Picked a good person to keep trouble away from you; she was very stubborn on that front.”

“Well that’s… not the case here. She’s just a kid that we’re trying to get back home. Back to her family,” Pinocchio explained, looking down at the small hands curling more into his vest.

The queen snorted again, much to Pinocchio’s befuddlement. “Well good luck getting rid of that puppy now.” she muttered, making him frown further.

Okay. That was weird. He looked away, as he focused on trying to warm the kid in question up instead. He wasn’t sure what the queen had meant with that. They were getting Merlin back and reuniting this family. The kid could have a proper home then. What was so unbelievable about that?

He looked up as he heard a horse, surprised at the tall, dark unicorn that trotted alongside the palomino towards the cavern. He smiled as Pierrot hopped off, Pinocchio standing up and walking to them.

“Finally!” He heard the Queen sigh, but his focus was only on the arrived group.

“Sorry it took so long!” Malvina exclaimed, as Pierrot helped her down. “Wanted to ensure no one was going to follow us.” Her gaze grew troubled as she eyed Pinocchio, the man looking down at the shivering bundle he was cradling. A guilty grimace fell over his own expression, Malvina immediately ruffling through one of the saddlebags.

A gasp sounded nearby, Pinocchio looking over curiously at Taliesin. The man in question had grown stiff and was staring fearfully at the woodcarver as though he had seen a ghost. Pinocchio’s eyes widened as the man reached into his scabbard, and pulled a dagger out.

“Whoa, what’s with the knife?!” the woodcarver asked, his arm covering the toddler protectively.

“Why-why do you have that?!” Taliesin stammered.

“What do you mean?”

“That-” the man cleared his throat, bearing a grimace. “I’d hate to use such a word among good folk, but that demon that you’re holding far too close to your chest right now.”

Pinocchio’s shoulders couldn’t tense more than they did as he took a step back, eyes narrowing once more. His throat closed up, words a jumble in the back of his mind.

“This again.” he heard Henry comment.

Not again, not again, not again!

He already had this fight with Blue– he didn't need this nonsense from someone that insisted on tagging along. He could see Pierrot and even Malvina look over in surprise and from the corner of his eye; he saw Lancelot reach for his sword while Grace and the queen braced themselves; one with her hand in her pouch while the other was already sparking with energy. He didn’t want a fight to break out before they even got to Camelot. This isn’t how he wanted the journey to go at all.

His focus entirely on the bard, he hadn’t noticed anyone approach until suddenly he was pulled behind Lampwick, a comforting shield to the beady-eyed look the man was giving him (or, more specifically, the child cradled in his arms).

“What the hell is your problem?!” Lampwick demanded. “How dare you even look at a kid and call ‘em that.”

“That is no child of anyone’s!” Taliesin exclaimed, which didn’t impress the man, as he merely scoffed.

“Oh yeah because mother dearest was a foul bitch and passed that onto her blood relation, huh? Don’t make me laugh!” Lampwick jeered. Pinocchio jumped a touch on feeling something brush up from behind him, looking down to see Iskra with Figaro sitting on her back. She gave him another nudge to his side, eyes bright and cheerful before giving an indignant snort of her own in the direction of the bard.

In his arms, Beth whimpered as Pinocchio leaned his head against the back of his lover and looked down at her. Her gaze had gotten glassy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or the harsh words the man had been using to talk about her. She huddled even closer as a small breeze blew by, Pinocchio’s own coat ruffling in it. ‘Both’, he figured. It must have been both.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Taliesin continued, interrupted by Malvina as she shoved past the men, with nothing but a scowl for both of them. “You haven’t seen what she’s capable of!” he prattled on.

“Save your worthless jabber.” Lampwick scoffed in response, Pinocchio relieved once he turned around and ignored the rest of what the bard was saying. Malvina continued to fuss over the child in his arms with a soft smile as she put a little coat over her.

“I could see her shivering from there.” she murmured.

“I know. Thank you.” Pinocchio sighed.

“Just let her freeze and we’ll be free of another curse.” Taliesin called out, making the woodcarver stiffen once more.

He found himself immediately thinking about the state they found her in. Because she had been freezing. Freezing to death and starving as well. He wagered it had gone on for an increasingly long time.

Just how many days did she have to deal with people that… that genuinely seemed to want her dead like this? How did she make it for such a long time with nothing at all if this was the attitude everyone in that wretched kingdom seemed to wear?

He could hear Malvina speaking, knowing she was responding to what Taliesin had said, but Pinocchio’s mind had drifted far away to really focus on what it was. Nausea rose as the thoughts continued to spin and turn his own head, his gaze fixed on the child sitting in his arms. She had the cloak on now, and looked more comfortable but her gaze had yet to stop tearing up since Taliesin had started talking.

He wondered, despite the conclusion he had come to earlier, if he even wanted to take the child back anymore. To have her live amongst senselessly cruel people like… like this! Wasn’t he just punishing the kid by making this choice? Just because he thought it would be better if she was with her own family?

But at the same time.. Would it be better if she stayed with people that didn’t even know how to take care of a child? Or was he only going to make the toddler’s life more miserable if she stayed with them? Neither he nor Lampwick knew how to care for a kid. And he certainly couldn’t just hold Malvina hostage just so she could help them take care of her. That'd be foul of him… Not to mention he knew what it was like to be separated from his father for so long; wouldn’t it be better if she was allowed the chance he had to work towards for two whole decades? Something she had probably been waiting for even longer?

She’d be better off with her own father but… but even that was starting to feel bleak now, given Camelot seemed to have it out for her.

“Trust this from the words of a man that’s lived around her! Your contact with that child will only bring you, and those around you, nothing but tragedy.”

Pinocchio recoiled, the words gripping at his throat like a tight noose. He’d heard those words before, and they made him as upset as they had the first time they were spoken in his general vicinity. His shifted his hold on the child, eyes narrowing angrily now as he held her protectively. He shot a glare up at the man that had spoken them, paying little mind to anyone else.

This was wholly unfair. And he hated just how… casual the bard sounded as he said all of this. It was as though this wasn’t a child with nothing to even call her own, but a vicious creature that needed to be locked away. It was sickening. It was horrifying.

He had every ounce and desire to speak up himself but as the words spun in his mind, exhaustion was quick to follow after.

Blue had been relentless in her conquest… there was no telling how stubborn this man would be himself.

Pinocchio reached and grabbed for Lampwick’s sleeve, feeling it grow taut as the man had taken a step or two towards the bard, hands balled into fists.

“Ignore him, love.” he whispered, his hold tightening on Lampwick’s sleeve almost desperately. Lampwick’s gaze shifted from anger to resigned on seeing the pleading look on the man’s face before he looped an arm around the woodcarver and began walking him back to where they had left their things. He heard Taliesin scoff, but the bard seemed to have nothing left to say to the lacking attention on him as he turned back to his horse once more.

Pinocchio sighed quietly and looked down at Bethan who was still quiet and subdued in his arms. He saw her bottom lip wobbling even as she tried to hide her face in the crook of his arm. His heart went out to the kid, who had seemed so happy about the prospect of this man coming with them and having that joy entirely crushed. Guess some people changed for the worse…

As Lampwick slung the man’s bag over his back, Pierrot wandered over, holding an arm out in an offer to take the child. Pinocchio carefully placed Beth in his hold, Pierrot sighing quietly as he adjusted his hold on her, offering the man a look of sympathy. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he’d say stuff like that.” he murmured.

Lampwick scoffed. “Camelot is full of half-wits if they’re all so willing to fold over on rumours about a bloody toddler.”

“Hate to agree with you of all people, but hear hear.” Pinocchio looked over as the queen spoke, seeing her waggle her fingers down at the toddler the bard was holding. Bethan sniffled watching the queen behind sad eyes reaching up and copying the woman’s gesture.

With the bag settled on his back, he looked down, Figaro giving a quiet mrrow from on top of the pony he was comfortably riding on. He turned back to the bard, watching the rest of the group already moving along into the forest. He held his arms out, taking the kid back and adjusting the cloak so it properly covered her.

“Comfy?” he asked, Beth giving a quiet nod. Pinocchio smiled, brushing away a couple of her stray tears that had managed to escape, before hugging her tightly, feeling the kid’s arms coil around his neck in response once more. He sighed, rubbing the kid’s back as he murmured. “Let’s keep going.”

The door opened a little too easily for the Fairy’s liking, as she looked inside the house. Empty. One could safely assume that everyone was asleep upstairs, but Blue had a feeling it was anything that simple.

For starters: Neither Pinocchio nor his partner had shown up at the meeting today, despite the promise of doing so. That was immediately suspicious to the Blue Fairy. But, sadly, it was also unsurprising. Looking inside the house now… well she already had a feeling she had been deceived when talking to the couple yesterday, but looking around now she saw nothing of the aforementioned “renovations” they said to be making around the house. It was barren of any life and deserted. Blue looked at the coat rack, seeing the jackets all missing.

They were gone. And goodness knows for how long they’ve been gone now.

She huffed, shaking her head in disappointment.

“There’s no one here at all.”

Blue looked up as Red called out on her way back down the stairs.

The blue fairy hummed. “I feared as much.”

“Do you think they were taken?” The woman asked, brows knotting worriedly.

“It’s hard to say.” Blue admitted as she strode through the room. “He’d been acting off since yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was of his volition.”

“Didn’t expect him to be a runner.” Red commented, eyes narrowing slightly.

“That’s because you don’t really know him like I do.” Blue pointed out. And know him she did. She had feared this would be too much on Pinocchio, but to see him take such an approach to the situation at hand was beyond disheartening. She wondered if anyone else had helped him come to such a dismaying decision, but who was she to say…? She wouldn’t be surprised if his lover had a hand in it however. That man had a way of meddling in matters that didn’t concern him all the time; steering the boy far from the path he was supposed to be going on.

The Blue fairy glanced at the back door, touching her wand to the chisel the woodcarver would use but watched as the path of light made no connection with the threshold of the door, and instead turned and moved towards the firepit instead.

Hm.

She strode over as the path faded, spying the stone trapdoor.

…

Well, there was no point in trying this. She didn’t know how he had discovered this passageway, but there was little she could do to try and pry it open. Magic had its limits, and the cavern's magic was even more powerful than hers. Without the key, she wasn’t getting in. She huffed, her mind set.

“Red. I want you to continue the search for them.” she requested as she walked back to the door, where Red stood.

“How so, Blue?” the woman asked.

Without another word Blue took the woman’s hands in one of her own and pressed her other palm against Red’s forehead. A calm, blue glow bathed the area where she applied pressure.

“I don’t usually use this spell, but it’s a matter of utmost importance.” she explained, pulling her hands away once the glow faded. “Follow the path your heart is leading you on, and you should be able to find them. I would assume they’ll be walking out of the cave by the time you get to them, but they could be further along. I’m not sure.

Find out what it is they're doing and why. We can’t afford any chances of this war ending us all.”

Red nodded silently as she strode out of the house and broke into a sprint to the forest. Blue watched after her, easing the door shut on her way out.

She hoped she’d find them. And find them before it was too late.

— November 1983 —

Lancelot’s feet crunched in the dense leaves around him, a brisk, chilling air breezing past him as he walked.

He had been walking around for the last couple of days, with no end to his journey in sight. Though he wasn’t even sure if there was an end.

End… everything ended eventually. His time in Camelot ended over five years ago… and now, so has his time in Hochwasser. So his journey from moons ago began once again, after all was said and done. Yet he couldn’t help but glance back at the distant path he had trekked across for the past many days, the longing hard to dismiss.

The sound of a rustle caught his attention, the man looking over and seeing the bushes waver. He reached for a dagger in his pocket, bracing himself and ready to apprehend any assailant that may step out— only to find himself face to face with a familiar face, cloaked in a red hood.

“Hey! What are you doing out here?” Red asked, looking surprised.

Lancelot sighed quietly with a smile as he let go of the dagger and approached. “Could say the same thing about you. I didn’t expect to see a familiar face so far up north?”

“Yeah– well… A lot of things have changed.” Red said, her expression dimming. “What about you? I could ask you the same thing, why aren’t you at the castle?”

“I can’t say, mostly because I don’t… know.” Lancelot admitted, shifting the bag over his shoulder. “I was considering going home but even that doesn’t feel right.” he paused, watching Red nod quietly in understanding. “The curse wasn’t cast.”

“I heard… and it’s… it’s great news.” Red hummed, her gaze distant once again.

He couldn’t deny the change of mood any longer, as he watched Red comb an agitated hand through her hair. His frown deepened as he stepped closer, brows furrowed with worry. “Everything alright?”

Red waved him off. “I just needed some time away. That’s all.”

“Well perhaps I could interest you in a little company out here?” He offered, nodding towards the path he had been walking on.

Red sighed with a nod and smile. “I think I’d like that a lot, yes.” she responded as she fell into step with the night, the sun dimming to their left horizon.

— PRESENT —

It had been closer to the middle of the day when they had left the cave, traversing down a length of a beach and through the forest for the rest of their journey, right up until the sun had started to set and forcing the group to settle down for the night. There had been yet another fight over who was doing what, from setting up the fire, gathering firewood and water or hunting for food, the lack of organisation from the whole of the party leaving Lancelot pinching the bridge of his nose. It was like he was dealing with the young squires, unable to figure out how to not squabble amongst one another enough to complete one simple task. It felt homely, but also quite tiresome, and he was more than relieved to finally sit down on the fallen log from close by. The queen had magicked up a few stools despite the wariness some had to her magic, and they had all settled down, quiet at least for the moment. Malvina had soon excused herself as had Taliesin, the two setting out to get more firewood for the night.

Lancelot glanced over as Pinocchio settled down on the log next to him with Bethan, who was practically swaddled in furs now, peacefully dozing off in his lap. He couldn’t help but smile. She had been clinging to the woodcarver since the cave, refusing to leave his side even for a moment.

It reminded him of a time so distantly long ago, where she’d do the same with the young squire he had been at the time, not too long after he had arrived in Camelot with nothing but a letter from his mother and the hand of his mentor held on his shoulder, after he had arrived from another kingdom. She was a strange familiarity he had in the village he was basically a stranger to. As he grew older and dubbed a knight, he got more distant, his duties preventing him from spending as much time as he would have preferred with the toddler. Though that never stopped him from stopping by the outskirts of the village and seeking her out, smuggling out food almost every night for her. If he wasn’t settled in the large house that had been cleared up and refurbished to house all the knights and squires under one roof, he would have given her a home… he wasn’t sure for how long she would have been able to stay in it, especially after his departure but she would have been warm there.

She would have been safe…

“How is she?” he asked, making Pinocchio look up from the girl.

“Much warmer.” he smiled, eyes growing saddened. “Gods, I should have grabbed my old coat-”

“Don’t worry about it, Pinokes!” Pierrot waved him off as he settled down next to the woodcarver. “Mal had you covered. She went back near instantly after you guys had left. She was really worried about that kid’s well-being. You know what she’s like.”

“Yeah, good thing too. No need to add frostbite to her already healing scars.” Grace muttered as she walked passed, and sat down on the stool next to Lampwick, who had chosen to stubbornly sit on the grass instead.

Pinocchio nodded quietly with a sigh. “I’ll have to thank her properly then. And for always looking out for the kids even now.”

“You know she cannot help it even to this day.” Pierrot murmured.

Lancelot frowned at the sad gazes the men had exchanged but the conversation was cut short by Henry coughing and drawing their attention to him.

“Okay, can we finally discuss our most pressing matter please? So, we’re gonna free Merlin.” he asked, looking over at the woodcarver, who nodded. “Okay. What then?”

“Then. Umm…” Pinocchio’s face fell blank. “I’m not really sure.”

Henry’s own frown deepened. “So you really have no other plan outside of that?”

Pinocchio shrugged quietly, the prince only scoffing in response. Lancelot looked over with sympathy, dropping a firm hand on the man’s shoulder in assurance. But before he could even think to say anything, someone else beat him to the catch.

“Cut him some slack! If you’ve got some bright ideas, spit ‘em out then!” Lampwick exclaimed. Lancelot frowned at the sharpness of his tone, noticing even Henry caught off-guard by it for a moment but recovering quickly.

“Watch your tone.” The Queen retorted, much to the knight’s dismay.

Here we go again.

“Lampwick, it’s fine.” Pinocchio murmured quietly.

“Watch my tone?! An’ who suddenly made you the authority?!” The man, previously smoking a pipe, abandoned it on the grass as he stood up, sneering at the woman. “Kid’s got a mouth don’ he? Think he can hold his own enough without some bitch speaking in his stead again.”

“Oh cause you’re any different. Thought the jackass would learn to speak now instead of braying nonsense every minute he gets!” The Queen retorted.

Lancelot noticed Pinocchio pursing his lips together and looking a little annoyed.

“Just say please next time if you wanted a fight instead, eh?” Lampwick drawled, hands balled into a fist as the Queen also stood up.

“Guys-!” Pinocchio’s voice was almost pleading as he dropped Beth in Pierrot’s lap and planted himself between the queen and Lampwick. He tried to will The Queen back, while Grace pulled the ginger-haired man away from behind. Lancelot could only sit back and prop his chin up, almost bored as the scene unfolded. He looked over on hearing a whimper nearby, seeing Beth still held by the bard but seemingly reaching out towards the woodcarver.

“Guys you’re scaring the kid-!” Grace exclaimed.

“Like I'd waste my breath and power on the likes of you. But maybe we could find out how it looks to choke on your own tongue instead.” The queen bit back at Lampwick as though no one had said a word.

“Oh a great show of good will huh, queenie?” The taller man sneered

“Keep trying my patience, you oaf, and the show of good will I give these people will be your eternal silence!” The queen threatened, her hands sparking with magic once more.

Bethan whined, Lancelot glancing back and seeing her now with her face buried against Pierrot’s shoulder.

“What are you guys doing?!”

The knight looked up on hearing a woman’s voice call out, seeing Malvina and Taliesin march back onto the scene, the woman holding a decent amount of wood in her arms.

“Oh my, is everything alright?” The bard asked, Lampwick wheeling around and turning his glare to him instead.

“Stay the hell out of this!”

“Hey!” Pinocchio exclaimed, grabbing Lampwick by the arm and tugging him away out of the centre of the group. “Hey, why don’t you go take a walk and cool off?” Lancelot heard Pinocchio murmur as he walked past with his fiancé. He looked up, seeing the taller man looking to protest, but Pinocchio’s hand seemed to tighten as he nodded to the forest. “Go.” he urged, voice still quiet but a little more forceful. Lampwick looked between the campsite and his lover before scoffing loudly as he pulled out of Pinocchio’s hold, fixing his jacket while marching off. The pony that often stuck his side was quick to spring to her hooves, prancing after him as the man disappeared into the woods.

Pinocchio let out a breath before moving back and settling back down between Pierrot and Lancelot once more.

“What in the realms was his deal?” Pierrot asked.

“I’ll talk to him once we’re done here for the night.” Pinocchio sighed as he wrapped his coat tighter. Lancelot glanced around him, watching with light amusement as the toddler still sitting in the bard’s arms immediately proceeded to reach out towards Pinocchio once more, much to the bewilderment of the woodcarver. A chuckle drew Lancelot to look up at Malvina who was watching the two almost gleefully so.

“If we may continue...” Lancelot cleared his throat, finally drawing attention to him as he settled back into his seat. “While I can’t advocate for whatever plans Merlin may end up having in store for us, until then I would definitely urge you all to ready yourselves for what may come. You especially, Pinocchio.” he glanced over at the woodcarver in particular, seeing the man having caved to the demands of the toddler but looking up at the knight in surprise.

“I know sword-fighting isn’t a strong suit for you, but it’s going to be something you’re going to need out there if we wish to survive. And I don’t think we’re getting out of this whole mess without a fight.”

“Well… suppose there is no escaping that.” Pinocchio sighed.

“You alright with that then?”

Pinocchio shrugged. “It’s as you said; if we’re gonna make it out of this alive, we’ll need to learn how to defend ourselves. I don’t have much of a say in the matter either, even if I wanted to get out of doing something like this. Just don’t… expect me to kill anyone yet.”

Lancelot chuckled. “Let’s figure out how to hold the sword first, yes? We can worry about that later.”

“For now you can leave the killing to those that can.” Henry called out, a smirk on his lips as he shifted the sword still strapped to his hip. Pinocchio smiled back at the teen in tow.

“Or to your attack hound back there.” The queen added, drawing a frown from the woodcarver.

“Gods, need to go find him. Who’s taking the first shift?” Pinocchio sighed.

“I can. I was going to offer regardless.” Lancelot said, holding his hands out as an offer to take Bethan, Pinocchio placing her carefully into the knight’s arms. She seemed to have dosed off once again thankfully, making Pinocchio’s leave less of a hassle this time around. Lancelot nodded to the forest. “You go find your guy, we don’t need to lose someone so soon out in the wilderness.”

Pinocchio nodded as he took the lit lamp Malvina had offered to him and set out on his way. His cat was quick to jump to his feet and bound after the man, the two disappearing into the night. Lancelot shifted back to see the rest readying to retire, Malvina stepping up and taking the now sleeping child from his arms. He settled back as the rest settled down for the night, poking at the fire to ensure it remained alight.

Camelot… after so long he never thought he’d be going back there.

— Winter, 1983 —

Their journey carried them across the snowy plains, until they had reached yet another village. It wasn’t anything large, in fact, it was pretty small. The duo walked quietly on through, their eyes settling on a bannered sign not far from them. It read “The Frozen Rose”, a blue rose with three icicles hanging off of it accompanying the title below it.

“Well, would you look at that!” Red exclaimed with a beam, jogging down the path towards the inn.

Lancelot smiled softly as he followed after, but more slowly. He walked in right in time to see Red already at the bar, requesting a room for the night. He was about to step up and at least get them some food when he noticed what was on the tables. The knight’s eyes widened as he approached one of the vacant tables, staring almost mesmerised by the rose that sat in a vase. It was dry now, most likely to keep it preserved, but he could still see the way the dark pink from the inner part of it, spread out across to the ends of the petals, fading to paleness as it reached the tips.

He smiled almost mournfully as he carefully tilted the pressed flower closer to him, hearing it crackle a bit at his light touch.

“What is it?”

Lancelot looked up, seeing Red staring down at him and the flower curiously. In her hand she held a couple of bread slices, the man realising she must have already ordered the food for them as well. He huffed as he pulled away from the memorable flower.

“Nothing. It's just… Don’t worry about it.” he concluded with a huff.

A light cough drew their attentions to the innkeeper, who jangled the key by the flight of stairs he was about to walk up. With a quiet exhale Lancelot followed Red as they made their way up the stairs.

“It just reminded me of something.” he explained as he walked after the woman up the stairs.

“Yeah?” Red called down, looking over the railing as she waited for the keeper to open the room. She smirked. “What, tried to court a lady with roses or something? Can tell you it doesn’t work on most.”

“Oh goodness no!” Lancelot chuckled, as the keeper nodded to the now open chambers. He gave the man a nod as he walked past, seeing the second barman rush up with a couple of plates of soup. Lancelot nodded once again, as he sat down, placing the bowl down on the stool as Red shut the door.

He sighed as he ate, pondering silently. “Did you notice the way it was darker in colour in the centre?” he asked, seeing Red nod in turn. “It reminded me of Middlemists.”

“Middle-what?” Red frowned.

Lancelot smiled. “A rose-like flower native to Camelot. There’s a whole field of them grown there. People would say Merlin helped create it but, heh, who knows how much water that truly holds.”

“Wow!”

“Indeed.” Lancelot nodded, finding himself once again losing himself to his thoughts.

Remembering what it was that he left behind back then. What it was that he left behind now… He knew it was for the better in both cases; To allow Guinevere to live unperturbed at Arthur’s side (and he was sure the king would rather not have him anywhere near now, from what he’s gathered from rumours that followed out of Camelot) — Let Snow and David move on without any bitter reminders sticking around in the kingdom. It was better like that. It was better like this.

But it also reminded him of what he never wished to leave behind. Little Bethan in Camelot… he hoped Gwen had kept her promise and ensured the child was well-cared for, but he couldn’t help but worry. And Hochwasser as a whole. He knew the king and queen recently had a child and Regina was sent away for good. Yet the safety of these people still weighed heavily on his mind.

Curse his attachment to them all!

“So what happened?”

“Hm?” Lancelot looked up curiously, seeing that Red had finished her bowl of soup as well.

“What happened to make you leave?” She frowned before placing her own utensils and bowl into his. “Why’d you come all the way to Hochwasser?”

Lancelot fell still for a moment, propping his chin up on one hand. “There was a woman.”

“I figured.”

“The queen, on top of that.”

“Oh, aiming high, huh?”

Lancelot huffed out a sad laugh. “Not really. I didn’t wish to get in between her and the one she ended up choosing. So I left. Ended up taking on some mercenary jobs along the way. No one knew my name, they only knew of The Leviathan.”

A pause.

“It was better that way that they didn’t. I’m sure Arthur would not have appreciated further soiling of his knight’s name, but so be it. And then—”

“And then King George happened.” Red filled in, the man giving her a nod.

“Yes.” A sigh. “He made me an offer, and I took it. It wasn’t pleasant, especially after what he did to Snow, but— what can you do?”

Red shifted over the covers. “He’s gone now. You’re free of him.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not free of the sins I committed under his command. I am not free of the burden that weighs on my soul, and when I look the now newly named King in the eye, all I see is the wrong I was made to commit against him.” Lancelot admitted.

“Well, maybe David doesn’t think that.” Red pointed out, but Lancelot only scoffed.

“No, it’s better off if I leave and start again. I’d rather not reside in a kingdom I was once the enemy of.”

The woman remained silent, pouting before she spoke up again. “Is that really the right choice?”

“I could ask you the same thing though, couldn’t I?” Lancelot retorted, Red’s frown deepening. The man sighed as he sat back. He had no intentions of getting into debates about his actions. There was no point to it. He had made his choice. He was going to stick to it. “Get some rest. Best not waste our energies before the sun is up.” he murmured, reaching for the lantern by the bedside, and turning the flame down.

— PRESENT —

The first rays of the sun were peeking out from behind the trees when Pinocchio finally ventured back to camp, his steps weary as he yawned.

Nothing.

There had been no sign of the man anywhere. He knew that maybe the wiser choice would be to stand by camp and wait for him, but the gnawing worry over something happening to him kept him walking until he could walk no longer. He had almost dozed off standing by a tree at some point, which was never good in weather like this, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him from continuing the search. He was more worried about Lampwick than anything else, and coming back to the camp empty-handed left the already tired man feeling rather hollow. The rest had started to pack up, the fire from last night reduced to ashes. His approach was acknowledged almost immediately by the toddler they had with them, who wriggled out of Malvina’s hold immediately and made a direct beeline towards him. Pinocchio sighed, gently patting Bethan on the head as she gripped at his trousers.

“Hey. Where’s Wick?” Grace piped up, drawing the man’s attention to her.

Pinocchio sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed tiredly at his face. “Couldn’t find him. I don’t know where he went.” he admitted quietly, watching as Grace’s brow furrowed.

“You’ve been out all night?!” she uttered, Pinocchio only shrugging.

“Wasn’t gonna forsake him just cause it was too dark.” he sighed, the woman only looking more and more concerned. But her gaze cleared suddenly, as she gestured behind him. The woodcarver looked over, letting out a breath of his own at who was approaching.

It was Lampwick himself—in all his lanky glory, hair a mess and clothing bedraggled.

Pinocchio had no idea where he had been all night, which had him concerned, yet the red-head hardly seemed bothered. He supposed a man that was practically like a holdable furnace at night wouldn’t be troubled by the cold often, even if there have been moments where he caught him shiver. He only hoped he hadn’t been out in the open air at least.

Next to him trotted Iskra with Figaro on her back, something that was another added relief after the tom cat disappeared from his side in the middle of the night as well.

Pinocchio pointed to Grace, urging Beth to go over to her before he turned and marched over to the approaching group, grabbing the man’s attention with his exclamation “Oh thank the Gods!”

Lampwick looked up, Pinocchio already dragging him out of the clearing and ignoring the looks he received as he pulled his lover along and away from prying ears.

“Come on.”

Lampwick sighed, expression unchanging from its frown as the clearing disappeared behind them. It was only when Pinocchio couldn’t hear the chatter from the folks at the camp, that he slowed to a halt and let the man go. Lampwick only stuffed his hands into his pockets, lips curled up in annoyance as he scuffed at the snow.

“If you’re gonna berate me-”

“When have I ever done that?” Pinocchio asked, scoffing quietly as Lampwick only arched a brow at him. The man sighed. “What happened last night?”

“Am I supposed to be a fan of working with people like that?” Lampwick challenged with a nod to the clearing. “We’ve no idea what some of their intentions are right now.”

“I know. I know.” Pinocchio groaned. “But I really don’t think fighting back like that is going to help anyone.”

“What did I say about berating?” Lampwick’s eyes narrowed as he quipped, Pinocchio’s shoulders dropping.

“I’m not-”

“Look, I get it, it was a stupid decision, I’m sorry. Now let’s go-”

“Lampwick please…” Pinocchio exclaimed, brows furrowed after Lampwick had turned to walk away. The woodcarver didn’t move from where he was, watching silently as the man before him merely hunched his shoulders. Pinocchio walked quietly over and placed a hand on his shoulder, the touch getting Lampwick to turn around with a bitter frown.

“Sorry.”

Pinocchio smiled softly. “Well… it’s sweet you were trying to stick up for me back there, but-”

“If you’re not gonna stick up for your own ass, who is?”

“But I’m not gonna fight a young boy over an opinion, and neither should you. He’s just stressed. Try and tone it down with him, you know he’s trying.” Pinocchio interjected, giving his man a look. Lampwick sighed, scuffing his shoes on a small rock. “We were basically going in without a proper plan.”

“Did you end up finding one?”

Pinocchio shrugged. “Well we can’t figure out how to free Merlin until we’re there. But Lancelot made a good point that we can’t go in there defenceless.”

“Wait. Are you saying that you’re-” The man blinked up at him in surprise, laughing the moment Pinocchio nodded. “Oh my gods, has Pinocchio finally woken up and decided to learn how to fight? Didn’t even get the chance to get the rum out to celebrate!”

Pinocchio rolled his eyes at the proclamation. “You’re terrible.”

“And yet it was you who decided to put the ring on me all those years back.” Lampwick grinned widely, Pinocchio suddenly pulled in closer. “So I’d say your taste is equally terrible.” the taller man added, his voice hushed as though he were telling a secret for only Pinocchio’s ears to hear. He leaned in, grin widening further and prompting a small smile from Pinocchio himself.

Satisfied, Lampwick pulled the man back once more before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him along. Pinocchio simply let it happen, too tired to really lead on his own, as he let his beloved drag him through the small woodland depths back to the group.

They slowed once they arrived at the clearing, Pinocchio hearing Lampwick gawk in surprise next to him the second they reached the rest. Pinocchio frowned as he looked over, seeing Lancelot talking with someone in a red cloak. His frown morphed to curiosity as he pulled out of his lover’s hold and walked over. The rest had finished packing up, some sitting while others were waiting around and pacing. As he made his way by Grace, the toddler in her arms reached out, but he sadly didn’t have the time to stop right now as he walked over to the senior knight.

“Lancelot?” he asked, both the knight and the stranger turning. Immediately Pinocchio found himself relaxing. “Oh! Red!”

Red Riding Hood grinned as she waved. “Hey there, Pinokes!”

“What are you… what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Oh, I was just on my way back to the citadel actually, when I noticed your campsite! Figured I’d check out and see what’s going on.” she explained, looking around at the group. “What are you all doing out here in the first place?”

“Not important.” Lampwick piped up, Pinocchio looking up at the man as he approached from behind.

Red huffed. “Well, do you guys need any help? I can get you to the main road if you want! I know this neck of the woods like the back of my hand. It shouldn’t be far.”

“Suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Lead the way, Red.” Lancelot responded with a smile.

Pinocchio sighed as the rest stood and approached, looking up curiously at his man, the red-head giving a quiet scoff.

“I agreed to toning it down. That doesn’ mean I’m trustin’ everyone in sight.” he murmured to the woodcarver, Pinocchio nodding with understanding. That made sense, he supposed.

“Shall we then?” Red piped up.

“We’re just waiting on someone.” Pierrot chimed in while helping Malvina up on the unicorn once more. Right as he spoke, Taliesin ran into the clearing, Pinocchio realising with embarrassment that he hadn’t even noticed him gone.

“Apologies my fellows, but… nature was calling.” the man exclaimed as he grabbed for the reins of his horse.

“Spare us the details and let’s go!” Lampwick drawled out as he gestured to the departing group. He quickly reached for his fiancé’s hand, Pinocchio gratefully squeezing it as they continued on their venture through the woodlands.

— 1983 —

The duo waded through the undergrowth with little fuss, Lancelot quickly taking up the lead. Despite the expeditions he, and a couple of the other knights had gone on not long before he moved down to the little quaint village that was Camelot, they had never really ventured further than beyond the borders of the dark forest, the dangers that lurked there being a hard to deny warning given to them by the seniors. They were all young and reckless boys, and if it weren’t for a mentor of theirs or two sticking around with them for every expedition, the group would have absolutely embarked further than they probably should have dared. As it were though, they didn’t go very far beyond their borders, so the vast territories up north like the one he was in now, were foreign to the knight.

He had travelled around since then, but never this far from the south before. Not that he minded in the least bit. The strange surroundings were like a breath of fresh air to him; exhilarating and full of secrets he had yet to discover. It was all rather exciting really.

“Do you hear that?” Red suddenly spoke up.

Lancelot stopped, looking around with a frown. He didn’t hear anything himself, only the rustling of the thickets and the screech of an owl that had come out earlier than the sun’s setting.

“Hear what?” he asked, the woman wasting no time breaking into a sprint through the undergrowth. “Red! Red, wait!” the knight called, running quickly after her.

The further they went, the sooner the man heard what it was that Red had been talking about, Lancelot’s eyes widening at the sound of a child’s voice breaking the silence of the forest. They reached a clearing spotting a boy dressed in wool and fur standing crying in the centre.

“Oh.” Lancelot breathed out, Red wasting no time to get over any shock as she approached the child, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing out here? Are you lost?” She asked softly, the kid pulling out of her hold with a startled yelp. “Oh, it’s alright.” she assured, placidly holding her hands out as the kid stumbled back.

“His parents must be around.” Lancelot hummed, looking around the slowly darkening woods.

“Nothing. I don’t– there’s no smell leading from here, I think he might have gotten lost because I can track his scent, but his only. Might get us back home.” Red exclaimed, turning to the little boy with a reassuring smile. “Come on. It’s okay, no need to be scared we’re gonna get you back to mum. How’s that sound? Good, yeah?” She offered, holding a hand out to the crying boy. The kid hiccuped eventually moving a little closer, clasping his own smaller hand around hers as she led him out of the clearing.

Lancelot looked up at the sky above the treetops, brows furrowing with concern.

“Red, it’s getting dark-”

“I’m bringing the kid back, even if it means travelling all night.” Red called back from behind.

Lancelot sighed as he moved to catch up. “I was only going to suggest making camp and continuing when it’s light.”

“No, I’m getting him back now! Lord knows if this won’t be our last chance and we don’t lose the way for good. So, are you coming with or not?” she challenged, turning back with a glare.

The man paused as he stared back at the unrelenting look the woman gave him, any further words or protests or suggestions lost. He considered saying something else, but Red was soon traversing down the path only she seemed to know how to follow, leaving the knight behind in the greying light, Lancelot soon quick to follow.

He didn’t understand the art of “wolf senses”, so there wasn’t much he could argue on when it came to the woman’s used logic, much less her determination to have this child returned home as fast as possible. She didn’t even stop to catch her breath at any point in time. Only if the child slowed down did she do so as well. But otherwise the group marched on with a purpose, Red taking up the lead.

The woods soon thinned out, the sun’s rays having disappeared long ago, leaving behind nothing but the barely hidden light of the moon and a warm glow coming from further ahead. There was a small cottage with a lantern lit outside it and a woman pacing in front of the door. Red let out a breath as she trudged forward, the kid she had been leading around breaking from her hold as he yelled out to the woman, sprinting towards the house. The lady stopped her pacing, looking over at the approaching group before darting forward herself.

“Richard?!” she exclaimed.

“Mother!” the boy cried out, throwing his arms around the woman who returned the embrace, picking the boy up and holding him tightly. She looked over at Red and Lancelot, letting out a shaky breath.

“Thank you for finding him! My husband’s been out all day in the woods looking for him.” she sniffed.

“They’re pretty vast, so that’s of no surprise. I’m glad we could help you guys out.” Red smiled, the woman taking her hand and squeezing it gratefully.

“Thank you.” The lady paused, before her grin widening. “Why don’t you both come in?” she offered, stepping aside.

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly-”

“Oh no, I insist. It’s too dark now to travel and the least I can offer is a warm bed for the night and a little food.” the lady continued, cutting off Red’s refusal. Lancelot looked over at the woman, giving her a shrug, before she sighed.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” she eventually relented, the woman’s grin widening as she placed her son back down and led the way to the house.

She was quick to get them situated, offering them each a bowl of warm broth while she milled around. Richard sat by on the floor, playing with one of his wooden toys, Lancelot noticing the kid looking up at them and eyeing them every so often. Everytime he did so, the knight would flash the boy a quick grin.

He couldn’t help but ponder about another child, equally wide-eyed and curious like this one. He knew, if it weren’t for the magic that plagued her, she would be older than this boy, but there was still joy that the knight felt looking at this kid right now.

“Good to see the kid back at home now.” he murmured to Red.

“Hm?” Red hummed, looking up from the bowl she was absent-mindedly stirring. “Oh. Yeah, it’s really good.”

Lancelot paused, watching her continue her distraction from the soup she was originally eating. “Something on your mind?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“If you say so.”

With that he turned back to his own food, continuing to eat. If she wanted to talk she would, there was no reason for him to beat around the bush needlessly just to see if she would give him the answer he was looking for.

The door to the outside soon opened, a man stepping past the threshold. His wife greeted him, offering him an immediate explanation over why there were two strangers sitting at their table. Richard was quick to jump and throw himself into the man’s arms, his father giving him a tight embrace. They all settled back down once the man sat himself at the table, making pleasant conversation with the both of them, before retiring once he had finished his meal. Lancelot and Red were quick to follow, the woman of the household showing them to the guest room before shutting the door behind her. Lancelot took off the shoulder plates and chain-mail, hearing Red sigh behind him.

“I left because… Well, something happened, and it involved children as well. I got into a fight with Snow over the whole matter. Seeing the relief on that woman’s face just reminded me of returning another child to a mother that thought she’d lost her daughter for good.” she explained, Lancelot’s frown deepening as he turned around.

The maiden was sitting on the bed now, chin propped up on her knees thoughtfully.

“What happened?”

Red huffed. “Snow and Charming, they held certain… prejudices that I didn’t approve of towards an, at the time, still unborn child. I got angry because they claimed it to be born a monster and just-” She grunted, glaring up at the knight all of a sudden. “What does that say about me? I am a wolf, and at some point I was equally as dangerous because I had no memory of what I’ve done, of the lives I’ve taken or held control over my transfigurations and actions. I— I ate my boyfriend for God’s sake! Snow even witnessed it! Yet I’m not held at fault for it by the people I thought to trust. But a child who we have no idea what their future might be already being met with hostility before she could even open her eyes to this world? It’s cruel.”

Lancelot fell quiet. None of this was anything new to him really. Oh, he knew plenty of people that would hold such prejudice towards children for something they couldn’t even control. It was cruel to watch, he had to agree, and it almost left him feeling bitter hearing that people he respected were no different.

If he had brought Bethan along, would she have been treated the same in this kingdom too like she had been in their homeland?

A subtle ache settled on his chest at that thought, finding himself missing the child he once called a friend.

He only hoped she was safe somewhere.

“Do you think they regretted it?” he asked suddenly. He didn’t want to believe that these people were similar to what he knew others to be like. He hoped they would be different, that they wouldn’t let their opinions cloud their judgements forever, maybe even their choices changing them for the better.

He hoped.

He hoped for that so badly.

Red sighed. “I think they regretted it the second they committed to what they did, but by then I was too angry to care. Now? I don’t know if they’d want to face me any more.”

“Well, do you?” he continued to prod, as he settled down on the bed opposite to her.

“Maybe… it’s hard to say.” Red admitted, as she lay down, gaze staring up at the ceiling.

Lancelot hummed softly. “Give it time. Situations like these aren’t always easy to figure out, but I’m sure whatever you end up deciding will be the right choice for you.” he pointed out.

“I hope so.” he heard her murmur, as he reached out and extinguished the oil lamp sitting at the bedside.

— PRESENT —

With little fuss the group had set off, each sticking with their own pairs. Henry himself had settled for walking alongside Pinocchio, the two walking peacefully along. Every so often the prince would glance back, seeing Lampwick’s friend walking behind them, the toddler now trudging along as a puppy next to her. Taking up the rear was Lancelot, his hand on his sword similarly to that of the prince. Henry smiled as he looked ahead, the two bards and the blue-haired lady walking along in front of them, and the queen just off to the side of them. Just in front of Lancelot and behind Henry walked that friend of the woodcarver’s fiancé, the woman keeping pace with the small child that trudged along next to her, a frown stuck permanently to her face and stubbornly refusing to take the woman’s hand.

It had been a relatively peaceful journey, everyone minding their own business. If he wasn’t grateful for the peace, Henry would have found himself feeling a little bored at this moment in time. He didn’t mind idle chatter, accustomed to it when he would travel with the younger squires while he had still been training. He preferred it even; it kept him alert instead of mindlessly drifting. So the dead silence amongst the group was nothing short of rather annoying. But if he had to choose between the silence and the childish bickering they had until now, he’d definitely go for the dead silence over everything else.

“So why were you out here, huh?”

Henry withheld a sigh as he heard Lampwick speak up. Well then, guess he spoke too soon.

“I was out on a mission.” Red responded, still facing the front.

“I see.” The man hummed thoughtfully with a nod.

The teenaged prince rolled his eyes, looking to the man’s fiancé beside him. Pinocchio’s expression had yet to change, stuck permanently in an emotionless frown. He wasn’t even sure if he was listening to the conversation that was happening ahead of them at all. Maybe that was a good thing really. It probably wasn’t worth the attention at all.

“So why not report your findings then? Why suddenly take interest in helping us?” Lampwick continued.

“Because I wanted to help? Is there a problem with that?” Red asked as she turned over, perplexed.

Lampwick shrugged. “Not at all. But I guess it wasn’t anything urgent then?”

“What’s your point?” The woman’s eyes narrowed, as the red-head hopped to her side.

“It’s just a simple little question is all! Consider me— a curious guy.” he grinned widely. “So?”

Red huffed. “Yes, it’s important but it’s nothing that couldn’t wait.”

“I see, I see.” he nodded.

Henry scoffed as the lanky figure fell back behind their little guide, his grin still in place.

Yeesh what a clown.

He admittedly didn’t have a lot of experience with the woodcarver’s partner, but the few times he did speak to him, he found him to be a tolerable guy. But in this particular moment, the constant yammering nonsense was just plain annoying. Even despite having received an apology for the unsavoury reaction he had towards him for simply trying to plan ahead, something one should do if they’re planning an invasion, he had yet to feel anything short of annoyance around the tall man.

“Don’t worry your little head, Lampwick. You know I’m not one to forget my duty, much less abandon it or something for anything else.” Red suddenly piped up, shooting the red-head a look.

Henry’s brows shot up.

Huh.

Hearing Pinocchio’s breath hitch next to him the teen looked over, watching the man’s expression shift from surprise to wariness. As quickly as that happened Pinocchio's gaze seemed to drop a touch, the hold he had on the sword suddenly tightening.

Huh! Curious.

Though he wasn’t surprised really, as his own eyes narrowed in tow. Something was off about what Red had said. And he wasn’t a fan of it either. Lampwick on the other hand, looked almost pleased with himself over the whole ordeal as he glanced back, meeting the prince’s eye. Despite his feelings about him, Henry couldn’t deny that he was a little impressed. Guess the yammering served a purpose this time around. He gave the man a nod— silent agreement with what he was sure the both of them were thinking about. She was definitely not here just by chance.

“So why are you guys out here?” Red asked, grinning casually.

“We’re just out and about scouting the local area for a few days.” The boy prince cut in before anyone else. “Needed an escape from the castle.”

The woman looked surprised. “Really now? With this whole group of yours.”

“Well it was originally just myself with Lancelot and Pinocchio with his fiancé. The rest sort of joined in.” he explained, keeping as straight a face as he could.

Red didn’t seem impressed. “The Evil Queen too?”

“She became our prisoner.” Lampwick chimed in.

“Fascinating, given she’s not bound with anything.” Red hummed.

“Don’t need rope or anything to bind magic when you have other means of doing that.” Malvina called from behind, twirling her hand in the air and allowing a shower of sparks to fall from them.

“I see.”

The doubt was still clear on her face. Whatever. It’s not like she could be trusted right now either. And while he was sure she wasn’t working for Mordred of all people, he had no intention of getting dragged back to the palace by Someone who thought they knew better than any of them.

“You done interrogating us?” Lampwick asked.

Red laughed, sounding almost forceful. “I’m not the one that started this, remember?”

“Well sorry, but you kinda showed up outta nowheres so I got curious as to why you’re even ‘ere.” The red-head pointed out.

“You must forgive him, my lady. Some of us are simply a little cautious as travellers, I suppose it’s rubbing off on all.” Taliesin chuckled, “Perhaps it would be better for all if-”

“Shut up.” Lampwick stated.

“I was only going to suggest-”

“Enough. No. Did anyone here ask for yer input, bard?!”

Henry looked over as the man snapped, seeing him glaring at the bard up front.

“When I want someone’s opinion on some matter I’ll ask it, ‘kay? I don’t give a damn about what you think of what I’m saying or not, aight? Stay the fuck out of it!”

“Gods above, you lot are animals.” The Evil Queen spoke up, Henry’s own lips curling up in a snarl at her grating voice.

“Says the bitch who’s first immediate thought after something going wrong was to destroy multiple lives. But of course, we’re the animals, queenie.” Lampwick sneered.

“Do you ever shut up?!”

“Do you?!”

“Can’t we all just calm down?” Pinocchio whined, Henry stopping his walk to see the woodcarver make a grab for Lampwick’s arm and pull him away from the queen.

“Tell that to the man that started this whole thing!” The Queen exclaimed.

“Hey! I was talking to little miss red riding hood over there, never once did I turn it into a public discression.” Lampwick retorted.

“Discussion!”

“Shut it!!” Lampwick snapped back, his words amplified with a hiss from the woodcarver’s cat.

“Perhaps it would be better if one of you two walked with me in the back instead?”

Henry heard Lancelot suggest, glancing over as Pinocchio reached down to pick his cat up off of the pony’s back after Iskra had planted herself between her charge and the rest with her ears pinned back.

“Absolutely not!” The Queen shot back.

“What? Afraid you’ll be considered beneath us all if you did?” Lampwick jeered next to Henry, the boy sighing loudly.

Was it so hard to get five minutes of peace with these people?

“Lampwick—” Pinocchio groaned.

“Who would she even be beneath anyway?” Grace chimed in with a chuckle, as she picked the toddler up, after the kid had worked to try and hide herself behind her. “She’s no queen of this land any-more and hasn’t been for a long time. You have little authority here, and it doesn’t matter how many party tricks you can pull, so stand down, your majesty.”

“I’ll show you party tricks you little wench!” The Queen hissed, Henry’s head whipping up at the cat in Pinocchio’s arms letting out a yowl. “Keep your beast under control!”

“Hey that beast has a name you know! And he’s only reacting cause someone here doesn’t know how to keep her threats to herself!” Lampwick jeered, glaring pointedly at the queen.

“Oh, cause you’re the shining example of a well-trained pack mule!” The queen sneered back in return.

“Enough!!” Malvina’s voice cut through the argument like a knife, the group falling silent and still. “Unless you people want to turn back around and go back home or the dungeons I advise you all to hold your tongues right now!”

“Don’t patronise me!” Lampwick argued, but the woman’s eyes only narrowed.

“Then control yourself, for goodness sake! I don’t want to hear another fight amongst any of you today or you’ll be back on your asses at the house again before you can utter another word! Is that clear?!” she demanded, the group falling into quiet murmuring.

But no one objected anymore. Henry himself found it difficult to try and say anything, the woman’s words cutting any retorts out of his mind. He wasn’t sure if she had used some sort of magic to do it or her ability to take authority was just that strong, that it was enough to even make a senior feel like a scolded kid.

She let out a breath. “Now. I’d suggest we start making camp for the night before it gets too dark.”

“I agree.” He muttered, Malvina giving him a stoic glance and nod of approval.

“Same duties as yesterday. Red you can help set up camp with Taliesin, Sir Lancelot and Prince Henry. And no more bickering amongst any of you while you do that or I will make good on my word.” She concluded, marching over and grabbing Pinocchio by the arm before she walked away.

The group as a whole let out a collective breath of relief the moment she was gone, falling into quiet murmuring as they dispersed into pairs. Henry quietly joined Red’s side as they started setting up camp with both Taliesin and Lancelot, rolling out the tents they had and bed rolls. Well, he wasn’t sure about the rest but he hoped they could avoid such a scene ever again. He didn’t think himself afraid of fairies, magical as they may be, but this one that Pinocchio was close with? Yes; she just might become an exception.

The clock had struck the third hour after noon, the council once more sitting at the table. Most were preoccupied with their own distractions and paying little mind to the wait they’ve been enduring since gathering over an hour ago, as Blue opened the door and marched inside. She frankly had no idea what they had hoped to gain from being here. There had been no reports from Red at this moment in time, and she was sure they wouldn’t get anything until much later. It was frankly hopeless to sit here. Still, they had established the meeting time yesterday and so here they were now.

Blue heard a heavy sigh at her approach, the fairy blinking to the dwarfs that were fidgeting in their seats (most likely eager to return to their jobs than to sit here and do nothing). She could understand their impatience, wanting nothing more than to return back amongst her own people to continue with their preparations of this… upcoming siege. It wasn’t in fairies’ natures to fight. But they’ve covered the bases of a battle once before, and she was sure they could do so again.

“Any news at all?”

Blue didn’t even look over as the question rang out, unbothered by the need to grace the dwarf with an answer as she moved to her seat. She simply sat down in silence with nothing but a cold patience about her.

“Really? Nothing?” Grumpy asked again, Blue’s eyes closing as though to ward off her irritation.

“It’s been only a day, Grumpy.” she pointed out.

“Yeah and two since those guys suddenly disappeared without’a trace.” the dwarf pointed out, Blue letting out a huff but saying nothing. “Think we wouldn’t have noticed?”

“I don’t need you to tell me what I already know, sir.” she retorted, eyes narrowing as her wings flared out. With a deep breath she straightened up once again, before speaking more calmly. “I trust Red to get what it is we need.”

‘And to bring them back in one piece,’ went unsaid.

— December, 1983 —

His eyes were glued to the burning flames in front of him, Lancelot as rigid as though made out of painted stone. Despite his stillness, his mind continued to race, endless thoughts that reached no conclusion, like the flames that simply flickered into non-existence. Similar to how his journey had done so as well.

He sighed, resting the stick against the log he was sitting on, staring lost in the embers. He pondered about returning to Viviane… Maybe the nymph would have a direction to point him in so he didn’t have to wander aimlessly no more. That might be the more sensible decision really. But as always he found himself hesitant. He’d never been so indecisive on anything but it would seem his fate was an exclusive.

“You should sleep. Let me handle the shift tonight.”

He heard Red prompt.

Lancelot breathed out deeply, as he rested his chin on the knuckles of his hands. “Not possible, there’s… there’s a lot to think about.” he responded, his gaze still not leaving the flickering flames.

Red sat down next to him, Lancelot feeling her searching gaze despite not seeing it.

“Still thinking about those flowers?” Red asked, but received no answer. “Or even what’s related to them.” She continued with a tilt of her head.

“Hard not to. There’s not a day where I don’t think about what was left behind.” he admitted.

Silence prevailed soon enough, Red herself glancing down at the flames they had stoked earlier.

“Do you really still think this was the right choice? To leave.” she asked quietly.

“I chose to leave, so she may-”

“Not Camelot. Hochwasser. David and-and Snow’s kingdom.” Red interjected, Lancelot pursing his lips together.

It’s funny that… despite trying to deny it to himself, he really couldn’t help but think about the new kingdom he left behind. Snow… David… he couldn’t deny that he missed them both dearly, having departed so suddenly once the curse that wasn’t cast, had been all but a thing of the past.

“It’s not my place there.” he restated once more.

“Maybe it feels that way but you could… you could have made it your place there. David trusted you. You might have met under awkward circumstances but he trusted you. Snow trusted you. She told me long before how you helped them. That you officiated their, well, unofficial union.” Red commented, even as the knight huffed. “Go back. I’m sure the kingdom could use a knight of your expertise around.”

“And what of you?” Finally he turned to look at her, his dark oak-wood brown eyes silently searching her face.

“I don’t— I just needed to think really.” Red admitted.

Lancelot nodded quietly. “Well… maybe now is a good time to push all of that behind you instead. Thinking so long about the past isn’t good. You can’t change what’s happened, only work on doing better now. Maybe it would help if you and Snow talked about what it is that pulled you away. Settle the dust for good.”

He dropped a hand on her shoulder, Red, giving him a quiet smile and nod. She seemed more at peace now at least. That was good. He was really glad to see that.

“If we set out tomorrow we may make it in time for Yule. I’m sure granny would be delighted about that company.” Red exclaimed, grabbing the stick they had between them to stoke the flames some more.

Lancelot’s smile grew. “Sounds delightful.”

— PRESENT —

‘The fire needed more wood,’ Lancelot told himself as he poked a stick at the pit. He sighed, sitting back as he gazed over the sleeping groups. He didn’t expect to be as exhausted as he was after a journey like so, but with the endless fights and squabbling, it left him ready to sleep at any given moment. Still though, his body despite the pleas still refused such a notion. So he sat by to watch over the rest.

The comments made today rolled around in his head all the while. He had noticed all too soon how much quieter some of their group had gotten. While Pinocchio hadn’t been the most chatty even until now, he seemed a lot more drawn to himself as he stuck close and worked with Lampwick or the couple that had shown up rather than anyone else. He figured it was just exhaustion, given he also had been up the previous night, but it was hard to say with him.

Still, it was nice to have a little peace now, as he wandered and checked the tents. The kids were tucked amongst the adults, Henry having surprisingly settled down with the woodcarver and his fiancé and Beth safely snuggled in Pinocchio’s hold. Grace lay in a tent nearby with Taliesin sleeping on the opposite end, the bard and his wife were in their own tent and Regina remained in a tent of her own. No one stirred as he walked by, frowning as he glanced around for the last member of the group.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Heard you had the shift last night.”

He turned on hearing Red ask from behind, the woman grinning a touch as she sat down on the log he had left. He huffed as he moved to sit next to her.

“You of all people should know that during moments like these, sleep never comes easy for me.” He gave the woman an assuring smile at her concern. “I will catch up later, it’s fine. And besides, with the rest asleep now, I get to talk to you.”

“Well… suppose it has been a while since we spoke.” Red mused.

“I’m afraid this isn’t me trying to catch up right now.” Lancelot stated, watching the bemusement fade. His own expression dimmed to seriousness as well as he continued. “You might have fooled most of them, but I know you’re not here by chance. If you were just on your way back, then you’ve taken quite the long route, old friend. Should have been coming from the East of the Kingdom, not the South.” He pointed out, his thoughts confirmed as the woman grimaced.

No, she really wasn’t here by chance. And he was sure some of the others had realised it as well, given what had happened earlier. He hadn’t been blind to the look the prince and the woodcarver’s soon-to-be shared after her comment. Maybe it had been coincidental, but the way she had spoken was eerily familiar to the thinking of someone else. And he was sure he and the other two weren’t the only ones that noticed it. Red was just lucky no one else mentioned it.

He turned to face the woman completely. Her gaze was no longer on him, facing instead the dancing flames of the fire.

“So. Why are you really here?” he asked.

“It’s not important.” came the quick response.

“It frankly is, given no one really understands your motive.” Lancelot countered. “Despite that, however, I don’t think ill intentions are behind your appearance here.”

Red scoffed, a smirk on her face as she looked away from the flames. “Well that’s reassuring.”

Lancelot chuckled, shaking his head. “Enough with the hiding, Red. Who was it? Who sent you?”

Red sighed quietly. “The Blue Fairy. She grew worried after finding Pinocchio’s home empty.”

“I figured as much.” he sighed. Because of course it had been Blue. Talks of abandonment and sacred duties… There was only one that was concerned with such matters on the council and he had his money on the fact that it wouldn’t be the dwarves. If it had been anyone else they wouldn’t have found them in such a short amount of time on top of that. She must have sent her off that same night even.

“Why are you really out here then?” Red’s question came, successfully pulling him back out of his thoughts. “Are you really running away?”

“If that’s what she claimed us to be doing then she thinks us even more shallow than I previously assumed.” Lancelot retorted softly. “The answer is no, however. No running is going on here. It is not my place to share all our plans without the others’ input on the matter; but we are looking for a solution to our issue. If you wish to leave and inform her you may, maybe it’ll leave her more at ease to know her little… chosen one isn’t cowering as she seems to think he will. Not to mention the prince is safe. The choice is up to you.”

“And what will you tell them if I leave without us even reaching the main road?” Red asked with a frown.

“Just that you gave me the information and that you were called back.” he responded with a smile once more. “and all will remain none the wiser.”

He sighed giving Red a pat on the shoulder and a comment about firewood as he walked away from the clearing, both him and his companion unaware of the dark eyes under shaggy hair that were wide awake from within one of the tents, their eavesdropper moving not a single inch even when the clearing grew still again.

It wasn’t until Lancelot had left did Red let herself breathe again, a quiet jingle sounding behind her ear. She looked up seeing the small fae with dark hair and dressed in yellow looking back at her, a bit of fox fur tufting on their shoulders and fur-lined boots on their feet. They fluttered around, before settling on the woman’s shoulder. Red’s gaze never broke from the tents where she knew the rest were sleeping. Hearing nothing still, she looked to the fairy on her shoulder.

“Did you catch all of that?” Red murmured quietly.

“Loud and clear, Red,” they whispered, Red letting out a sigh of relief.

“You know what needs to be done then, Lupi. Go.” She nodded her head back the direction they had come from, Lupi giving her a silent nod and grin as they took off into the air. It was only once Lancelot had returned did she finally take to retiring for the night, giving the man a silent nod as she left.

The move from the castle had been a three day trip, but they were making leeway as they were. Mordred was in no such hurry. From what he could gather, they were well on track, even despite their previous little… interruption. Still. It was of no bother. He knew, outside of his two generals, the rest of the army would still need to catch up to them. But it was no trouble. After all: they were well ahead of their initial plan. And as he heard the call of his name he looked up from the plans he was observing, seeing Sir Kay approach with a massive smirk on his face, Agravain not far behind.

“Look what we have here!” the knight called out proudly, holding his fist up in victory.

The tingling was like music to the man’s ears, a sound he seldom got to hear often any more. A sly smile crawled onto Mordred’s lips.

“Caught another, have you?” He asked, as he looked down at the fairy currently struggling against Sir Kay’s fist.

“Was in quite the hurry too, this one,” Sir Kay commented, giving his hold a quick shake, watching with sickening glee almost as the fairy grew dazed in his hold.

Hm, not as tough as the last one. “Well, best we don’t keep it waiting then. Wouldn’t want it to be late.” With those words, Mordred gestured with his finger, delicately picking the fairy up in his own hold.

He didn’t remember this one. But then again the fae came in hordes all the time, so maybe he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Sugar Plum had been ancient, but this one still appeared quite young and maybe even inexperienced. It didn’t take long to catch it, after all. His grin widened, watching the little fairy shrink back nervously.

“So why don’t you start singing like a canary so we could prevent that from happening, hm?”

— December, 1983 —

It was late in the night when Lancelot and Red walked on through Hochwasser’s palace, walking down the winding halls, following the knight that led them on through. They spent the first half of the festivities with his companion’s grandmother, before they set off once more in hopes of reaching the castle by the new year. Sure enough here they were, the eve of the last day and making their way through The Royal Palace. It felt strange to walk through here now, remembering how the castle looked last.

There was no torn tapestry or broken through stone walls like there had been during the invasion. Everything was new, not to mention decorated, in time for the Yule tidings that had swept on through several of the kingdoms. This one being no exception to that. The walls were decorated with red banners and ribbons, all of the chandeliers lit brightly despite the late hours. It was cheerful, and despite not yet knowing what awaited them, Lancelot couldn’t help but find himself relax.

That was until they were led into the great hall, seeing the whole of the council and their guests seated and dining. The minute the door had opened, the chatter died down, all gawking at the arrival of the two, some annoyed but most surprised. Lancelot cleared his throat awkwardly as David stood up from his seat.

“I guess this was very horrible timing.” Lancelot commented, his voice ringing out.

But the king standing at the head of the table only let out a laugh.

“Nonsense! Come and join us, the festivities have only begun.” King David called out, waving a beckoning hand over at the duo. The chatter resumed once more, as Lancelot and Red stepped closer to the round table, Lancelot finding himself relaxing a touch at the smile on the king’s face. “For how long do you plan to stay for?”

Lancelot looked to his companion, the woman giving him a shrug as she moved off to the side where Snow White sat. Lancelot could let out a breath as he looked over at David with a smile. “Well, it depends on how long you’d have us.”

“I’d say forever sounds splendid, then.” Snow chimed in, with a grin of her own.

He looked over at the queen, Snow sitting and donning a pale pink gown. Her hair was half pulled up and half down, the remaining dark curls falling like a waterfall to the small of her back, while the braids were weaved with silvers and gold strands, creating a makeshift circlet. Baby’s breath blossoms decorated the braids (probably done at the courtesy of the fairies).

There was no baby cradled to her chest or in a crib sitting next to her, like he had expected there to be. But the hour was late, so the infant might have been placed in the care of caretakers and sleeping the night away.

As they drew forward, Red’s approach towards Snow hastened, taking the queen’s hand.

“Snow, I did want to talk to you.”

Lancelot heard her murmur, as she pulled the woman to her feet and away from the table.

“Come.” The king patted the seat next to him. “Sit at my left.”

The knight obliged, sliding into the seat marked with a bull. The wood felt… fresh, the table most likely finished fairly recently. He looked across, seeing Emmet empty next to him, but the elderly woodcarver sitting in the seat next to it. The Knight offered Geppetto a smile, noting the absence of one other individual.

“No boy here tonight?” he asked.

“Oh goodness no!” Geppetto chuckled, “My boy’s already at home asleep. Jiminy has his eyes on him.”

“Always good to hear a clear conscience is what accompanies the boy’s dreams at night.” David commented, “Reul Ghorm is keeping watch over our daughter tonight, along with her nursemaids.”

“Ah, then she is in good hands.” Geppetto huffed quietly, Lancelot nodding in agreement.

The knight turned his full attention to the king. No more wasting time. It was either now or never. “David. I did actually want to talk with you. About everything.”

David huffed as he clapped a hand over the man’s shoulder. “Fear not, my friend. What’s in the past stays in the past. My wife vouches for you and so do I. There’s no reason to dwell on it further.” he explained.

“You’ve forgiven it all.”

“If you don’t believe me—” David hummed, as he poured mead into the knight’s goblet. “I had hoped for your return actually. Would be a shame if our kingdom was without a proper captain of the guard.”

“What?” Lancelot looked over, eyes widening.

David’s grin widened. “Would you accept?”

Lancelot paused. He considered declining, but… it had been too long since he served a king like this. An honourable one on top of that; the kind of king he had hoped to see in Arthur, only to watch it decline. He and Red had returned with the desire for another chance as well; maybe accepting wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’d— I’d be honoured.” he nodded, David’s smile widening.

“Well guess that settles it, hm?” David proclaimed. He brought a teaspoon to his goblet, clinking metal against metal before rising from his seat as soon as the hall fell quiet. “My friends, both old and new, all gathered here! Let us usher in the New Year together and hope that it’ll bring forth great gifts of Peace and Prosperity to our newly thriving kingdom.”

“And less curses!” Grumpy called out, holding his own goblet up.

David chuckled. “Right, and less of that.”

Snow walked over and picked her own goblet up with a grin on her face, Red taking her place at her side. “To Peace and Prosperity.”

“To Peace!!”

— PRESENT —

The group trudged on as the day went by, the trees eventually thinning out as they moved on. Lancelot marched ahead, stepping out onto the winding road with Red soon joining him at his side, eyes bright as she turned back to the group moving out from behind the thickets.

“And here we are!” Red grinned as she stepped out onto the path, her hands behind her back.

“Thanks again, Red!” Lancelot sighed.

“No trouble at all.” Red chirped, swinging back and forth on the balls of her feet. She looked a lot less tense compared to yesterday, which was a relief for the knight to notice. Guess the talk last night had benefited the both of them. As he was about to step up and offer a final goodbye though, the woman continued talking, still bright-eyed and lively. “So where to next?”

“Sorry?” Lampwick asked, the man’s annoyance clear as day as he stepped out of the undergrowth.

“What’s next?” Red asked again. “Do you have something like… a destination in plan or something for your scouting trip?”

“It’s fine, we have what we need, thanks.” Pinocchio proclaimed, stepping up from behind Lancelot.

The knight looked over as Lampwick held a hand out to the woodcarver in mock courtesy, the brunette rolling his eyes as he took it and let him be pulled out onto the path. Bethan hopped out from the grass and out onto the gravel as well, shuffling up a little closer to the woodcarver once more. The man was sandwiched between both the children; Henry standing dutifully at his right while Beth reached out to cling to the man’s left hand. The man himself didn’t seem too bothered by the set up as he gently took the kid’s hand, much to her delight.

“You sure? I could offer backup if the need arises. It doesn’t look like you have many that can hold up a fight on their own if it came down to it.” Red continued to insist, a couple of the others from ahead looking back curiously.

Pinocchio hesitated for a moment, looking ready to relent, before shaking his head once more with a smile. “We’ll manage.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna have anything to do back there anyway. I can just send Blue a message about what I had to say and be done with it. They’re not waiting on anything else over there.” Red pointed out, her comment receiving a scoff from Lampwick.

“Yeah, I doubt that.” he muttered, the woman glancing over at him with an arched brow.

“And how would you know that, hm?” she quizzed, Lancelot hearing the man grumble.

The knight sighed, giving the couple a shrug. “She’s going to find out eventually.”

Pinocchio seemed to halt again, a glance between both the knight and his lover before sighing. “There’s no— impromptu scouting trip,” He admitted, Red perking up immediately with intrigue, “Camelot’s proclaimed war on Royaume. Seems it’ll be waging against Hochwasser as well soon enough.” he explained, Red’s frown returning once more.

“And where are you guys going?”

“We’re gonna find a different means of stopping it.”

“How?” Red asked, her eyes narrowing as the man said nothing. “Pinocchio, you guys aren’t giving me much intel to work off of.”

“Then go home.” Lampwick piped up, already marching ahead of the group, Pinocchio and the children picking up the pace to catch up to him. “We don’t need more people here anyway.”

Lancelot looked over as Red scoffed, the man glancing back to see if any stragglers were left before striding after them.

“You’re no boss of mine, Lampwick.” Red sniffed as she jogged ahead, the tallest of their group coming to a halt.

“And where the hell do you think you’re going?!” he exclaimed, Red turning with a smug grin.

“Getting ahead of you so you can no longer stop me.”

“You don’t even know where to go!” The red-head pointed out.

Red waved a dismissive hand, Lancelot biting back a grin at the annoyance on the man’s face.

“Then get leading, genius! We’re wasting daylight standing around like this anyway!”

“This is a terrible idea.” Lancelot heard Lampwick whisper harshly to Pinocchio. The woodcarver only sighed.

“Well, seems we’re not getting rid of her so—”

Lancelot walked ahead, moving past everyone to catch up with Red once more. He glanced back, seeing the couple and children now joined by the red-head’s friend Grace as well, who had slowed down for the group to catch up. Lampwick’s pet hopped around gleefully, the cat the men had brought along still sitting on top of her back. Pierrot and Malvina were serenely walking just ahead of that group, the two holding hands. The unicorn they had brought along walked along the sidelines, no reins keeping it tethered to the group. The bard, Taliesin, walked near to the couple, while The Queen walked along the sidelines herself. It was nice to see. And while he shouldn’t say anything on the matter lest the spell were to break, but it was nice to see the group just getting along as best as they could right now. Lord knows, maybe they could get by without a headache today.

He looked to the woman trudging dutifully next to him, her hood over her head and eyes glued to the path they were walking along. He huffed, offering her a smile as he murmured. “Nice to walk by your side again, Red.”

Red’s seriousness melted away, eyes softening as she looked up at the knight, giving him a smile of her own. “And I yours.”

Chapter Text

— WINTER, 1954 —

A quiet melody played into the night, where the stars seemed to shimmer. Below them, was a single birch tree, from which the young song was sung. The ground was covered with snow, but one individual that sat in the tree hardly seemed to mind as he strummed on his lute, humming to the moon that hung above him. His dark face was illuminated under her blue light, curly black hair poked out from under his hat and a woollen cloak sat draped over his shoulders. Pierrot sang a quiet melody, his chorus ringing into the night even now as it faded. With the dying night, he sighed, patting his lute absent-mindedly. His gaze trailed to the wagon below, knowing his master would still be asleep at this time. Perhaps, if he snuck in quietly enough, he could still catch a few minutes himself. Even if the urge to continue his nightly song grew all the more stronger.

“That was very beautiful.”

Pierrot whipped around at the ringing voice, seeing the tiny creature hovering behind him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened at the small human-like figure. But he knew that was no human at all:

The blue dress she was wearing was just above her knees as she stared down at him, pale frills encircling the bottom and her wide sleeves. Her wings were coloured a gentle yellow, with an eye on both sides and her hair was bright turquoise, waves of it inching down to her waist and glowing brightly even in the dawning light. A bright smile sat comfortably on the fairy’s pale face as she landed on the branch, the wood barely moving underneath her.

“Oh, my, I-” the boy laughed and shifted his weight to face her, “I didn’t realise I had an audience.”

“It’s alright. I’ve been, admittedly, listening to you play all night. I’m used to the owls calling at this hour so hearing a human’s song at such a time was unexpected.” she admitted.

“Ah, but how could one simply resist singing to the night? Especially when she’s so beautiful.” Pierrot mused as he hastily sat back against the trunk, giving space for the fairy to settle down.

Without another word, a bright aura engulfed her and suddenly there was a young maiden sitting across from him, eyes the same colour as her hair. Sparkles of fairy dust sprinkled the two of them, landing on the boy’s clothes and hands.

“I don’t see many people watching the night like this. Much less seen you around before.” She grinned, tilting her head curiously.

“Ah, sadly this is the first time I’ve been able to get out like this. My master isn’t pleased if his little puppets get out into the open. Thinks we’ll make a run for it.”

“How did you get out?”

“Found the key. Seems the master forgot it.” Pierrot mused as he strummed over the lute with a grin.

“You won’t get in trouble for it will you?”

Mischief flashed across the boy’s eyes. “Who’s to say he has to know?”

The fairy laughed, the sound warming the boy’s heart and he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I’m Pierrot.”

“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance, Master Pierrot.” she bowed her head in greeting.

“And how about you, lovely miss?”

The Fairy grinned as she sat up. “I’m a fairy. The first star you see before the dawn.”

As she pointed up to the sky, Pierrot followed her gaze, breathing out softly as he looked up at the mass array of stars.

“Beautiful. I’d best be out before then if I wish to see you.”

“Oh please, don’t do that you need some rest yourself!” The fairy exclaimed, making the man chuckle.

“I merely jest. But maybe once in a while if the master were to misplace his keys again.” He couldn’t help but wink as he said that, watching the fairy chuckle once more.

“You’re funny!” she commented, but before either of them could say anymore, the fae looked up, suddenly alert as she looked towards the horizon. He wasn’t sure what it was she heard or even saw, but whatever it had been, her expression contorted to a small frown at it. She soon pulled out her wand again and shrunk herself. “I’d best get going!”

“Ah, of course!” he nodded as she took to the skies. His smile never faded as he watched her take flight.

A fairy. He had spoken to a fairy. He rarely spoke to strangers that were willing to lend him an ear, much less such an incredible creature of magic. And on top of that, he managed to make her laugh? Oh goodness, what a night! Yet as he began to strum once more, he was hit with a sudden realisation, the one thing he never got an answer to.

“Hey! Wait! I didn’t catch your name!” he called out to her.

“That’s because I never gave it!” she stopped and shouted back.

“Well it’s never too late to share, miss!” he cried again but she only laughed as she flew away.

“Until next time, Master Pierrot!”

She was soon gone, growing into nothing but a speck shimmering in the dawning light. Pierrot sighed as he leaned back against the trunk once more. He grabbed the branch and hopped off the tree, stumbling once his feet hit the ground but stayed upright. He couldn’t help but look up at the sky one more time, eyes softened and heart warm. Despite staying up all night he felt more energised than he had ever done before… he wondered how much of that was his own excitement and how much of that could potentially be the fairy magic that had touched him. His hand rested over his heart, feeling it beat rhythmically as he walked back to the wagon where his master slept.

“Until next time… my lady.”

— PRESENT —

Pierrot sat on the log with a woollen cloak over his shoulders, stopping mid-strum at the sound of varying chirps and meows that came from behind. He looked over and watched the tuxedo feline trudge across the snow with a plump dead bird in his mouth. Gone was his taste for music for a moment, even hearing Taliesin pause in their improvised duet to watch the cat, as it made a beeline for the lanky figure sitting just across from them. Lampwick smirked as he flicked his cap up.

“Would you look at that! Figaro is earning his keep.” he exclaimed, earning himself a disgusted grunt from next to him.

“A dead bird. He brought you a dead bird. What? Are you planning on cooking it?” The Evil Queen quipped, Pierrot soon turning back to his lute even as he heard the other man chuckle.

“What do you think Chickens are, huh, your majesty?” Lampwick taunted.

“You are revolting.”

“And you're picky!”

Pierrot shook his head as the queen scoffed, the man glancing up just to see the woman walking away quickly. Lampwick remained where he was, still smirking, before reaching out to pet the cat the minute it was sitting by him. The bard’s gaze trailed lazily around camp as he watched the going on all around.

His dearest was nowhere to be seen, having said something about taking a walk around the forest for a moment, with the unicorn having gone with her. Lampwick and Grace sat close by to one another, the ginger-haired man’s attention now on the cat that had unfortunately claimed him his new victim for attention, with the bird laying abandoned on the floor. Grace was sharpening a knife, lost in her own world as she studied her blade, with the man’s pet pony watching her with equal intrigue.

To his left, the prince was sparring with Pinocchio; though rather… sloppily, he must say. But then again, practice made perfect, and the woodcarver had hardly ever held a sword in his hand much less fought with one, so the sloppiness was to be expected. Occasionally, Pierrot could catch mentions of tactics and commands thrown by the prince as they worked. Judging by Pinocchio’s bafflement and Henry’s ever growing irritation, however, he could guess that it wasn’t going all too well. He watched the sword fly out of the woodcarver’s hand and Henry throwing his hands up into the air while he worked to pick it back up.

Lancelot sat off to the side with their newly added companion, the two conversing but also keeping an eye on the sparring duo. Far on the right side of their set up camp was the last of their meagre little party. Bethan had taken to sitting by herself on the stool that she had been provided with, playing quietly with the wooden toy the woodcarver had quickly managed to make over the last couple of days between practice and trekking. It brought a smile to the bard’s face as he watched her pick at the wood with small fingers. The man’s grin widened.

“Hey! Hey, Bethan,” He called out, the toddler looking up, “why don’t you join me?”

“Master Pierrot, with all due respect, I’m not having that… thing playing anywhere near us!” He heard Taliesin exclaim and nudged him lightly in the arm.

“Oh come now, Taliesin, you know you needn’t be so formal with me!” Pierrot called out with a laugh. “And besides! It’s rude to be so crude with our miniature guest.”

“She’s no guest of mine.”

“Now my friend, there’s no need to be such a spoilsport,” the bard chuckled, shaking his head as the man only turned away from them. The bard looked over at the kid that had stopped her approach the moment Taliesin had spoken up, wringing her hands nervously.

“Here, idi siuda, pchelishka nasha,” he murmured softly, patting the spot next to him. The toddler shuffled closer looking ready to bolt if he moved too quickly himself. He waited patiently as she seated herself next to him, the man grinning down at the wide-eyed little girl as he brought out his lute.

“Do you know what this is?”

The toddler’s eyes widened. “Loot?” she asked, Pierrot beaming down at her.

“Well, aren’t you a clever girl!” he crooned, watching the child smile widely and swinging her feet out. He ignored the disgusted scoff from next to him, as Taliesin left the two of them, Pierrot shuffling a touch closer to the child instead. “Ever tried playing one?”

The toddler pouted. “Yu-huh! Mistruls showed me once.”

“Would you like to try playing one again now?” the man asked softly, holding the stringed instrument out for the child to take.

Bethan looked stunned, tiny hands looking to reach out and take the instrument but stopping mid outstretch and looking up at the man. He nodded, holding it out even more and watched the toddler’s grin widen. But she pulled back immediately when she heard a clatter followed by a shout.

“Concentrate!” Henry exclaimed, Pierrot looking up curiously at the noise. Pinocchio stood opposite to the boy, the sword he had been practising with tossed to the side—most likely knocked out of the woodcarver’s hand again.

“Hey, maybe it would be good if we took a break perhaps?” Lancelot suggested as he approached them, only to wince as the prince rounded on him.

“No! I want to see him successfully parry first!” the boy prince cried, Pierrot watching with mild intrigue. “I’m not taking a break until then!”

“Take it easy with him, kid! He’s not gonna learn all the moves in one day like that!” called out the woodcarver’s betrothed, still sitting with the cat in his lap and a bemused smirk on his face.

“We don’t have months to learn things the way we should! He’s gonna have to pick up on this stuff faster or end up with a sword in his back!” Henry shot back with a glare.

“It’s alright, I can try again.” Pinocchio piped up, giving his fiancé a shrug as he walked back over with the sword in hand.

The prince scoffed. “Yes, you will! And focus this time!”

A cough sounded from close by, Pierrot looking over at Taliesin curiously as he toyed with the flute still in his hold. “Perhaps I could intrigue you all in a few notes to settle the tension-”

“No!” “Go away!!” Henry and Lampwick yelled at once, glaring at the bard before he could even finish his sentence, Figaro letting out an agitated meow soon after.

The man sighed as he shook his head, smiling up at the woman that moved to sit down next to him. He chuckled at the whispered comments she made, gently toying with the turquoise locks of hair as she settled her head on his shoulder.

“Do we have t’ fight?”

Pierrot looked over at the toddler next to him when she spoke, pausing his play. Bethan sat watching the rest with her bottom lip jutting out and eyes narrowed. Her hands were wrapped up in cotton and fur with her fingers digging into the bark they were sitting on. He nudged her, successfully getting the kid’s attention as he grinned. “Pay them no mind. I don’t think it’s going to become a fight this time. They’re just talking.”

“Pierrot, take your friend already!” came the prince’s call, Pierrot looking up and seeing Taliesin fussing around both him and the disconcerted woodcarver, Pinocchio continuously pulling back when he got too close. Pierrot hummed, hearing Malvina sigh next to him as she sat up.

“How about you walk off instead for a change?” The Evil Queen’s voice rang out, Pierrot closing his eyes with a sigh.

“And who asked for your involvement?!” Lampwick snapped back.

“On second thought-” Pierrot started, only to be cut off by a loud-

“Hey!!”

Pierrot watched as the group was pulled apart, the man glancing up at Malvina as she glared at the group with her hands spread out wide and energy pulsing around her.

“How’s anyone supposed to concentrate if all you do is bicker all day?!” She called out.

“We’re just talking-”

“Sure, you are, and I’m just here to sit and look pretty!” Malvina cut in, jutting her hips to the side in mock of her sneered words.

“I expected nothing short from Blue’s little progeny,” The Queen sneered, Pierrot letting out a low whistle as his wife bristled.

Oh that was a step too far.

“You’d do well to bite your tongue for once, Regina.” the blue-haired woman retorted, eyes narrowed. “Unlike my ex-superior, I’m not above dirtying my hands if you can’t keep yourself under control! Anyone wishing to test that theory is more than welcome to. I’m not one to break my word so don’t push your luck!”

That seemed to do the trick, as the group dispersed once again, the clearing falling into quiet murmurs. The man sighed as he massaged his temple.

“Told you.” said a young voice next to him.

Pierrot looked over and saw the toddler scowling at the rest of the group, still pouting as she crossed her arms over her chest. He chuckled and gave her a little nudge watching Bethan glance over curiously but lighting up a touch. He looked up on hearing a disgruntled sigh, Malvina sitting down next to him. Her annoyance was still plastered over her face.

He wrapped an arm around her, feeling her immediately return the embrace as she simply buried her face in his shoulder. The man relaxed as well, watching as the prince settled next to Lancelot. Lampwick nowhere to be found. Red as well really. Must have stepped out for a moment, he decided, as he turned back to the girl, once again working to show her how to hold the lute, with the now welcoming comfort against his shoulder.

— SPRING, 1955 —

There was no greater sound than children’s laughter, and Zvezda couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two girls talk to her between bouts of it. Once again they were telling her about one of their latest little adventures; something about a bear that had been visiting their home throughout the cold, winter nights. She nodded along as they spoke, one merrily talking over the other with moments that gave Zvezda space to say something as well. The girls had called for her aid after their mother had taken ill, something she was all too willing to take care of.

The family was one that she always loved to see and be called by. The mother, an older widow, was left to care for her two daughters after her husband’s untimely passing a few years ago. The girls themselves were quite opposite of each other. They were twins though not entirely identical: one with bright blond hair and the other dark brown. Snow-White seemed to take most after her mother, her dark hair a contrast to the pale tunic she wore and a whole lot quieter, while her sister, Rose-Red (though preferred just the name Rose), wore darker clothes. Currently she was dressed in a red skirt which was already covered with splatters of mud from being outside. She was sure that would greatly please their now recovered parent, who had insisted on doing the cooking despite being bedridden hours earlier. Ever the hard-worker.

Her attention was pulled away from the girls on hearing the bushes rustle. Zvezda’s eyes narrowed, straining to hear any noise above the chatter of the girls talking amongst themselves, as she looked for any further movements. But there was nothing there.

“You should come inside with us!”

She looked back at Rose’s suggestion, a smile returning to her lips as the girl swung on the balls of her feet.

“Yes! Mother would be greatly pleased if you joined us tonight for dinner, Zvezda,” Snow chimed in with a smile of her own.

Another sound of the bushes rustling caught the fairy’s attention, but she worked to hide her growing wariness behind a delicate grin.

“That’s greatly tempting, but sadly I have other places I’m due to arrive at.” she explained, watching the two girls deflate immediately. The woman pouted as she reached out a hand and dropped them on their shoulders. “Hey, chins up, my little star-buds. This isn’t the last time you’ll see of me I’m sure. Perhaps I can try and come by a different time instead.”

“You promise?” Snow asked, looking up at her with those large doe-like eyes.

Zvezda smiled widely. “I’ll do whatever I can to hold myself to my word.”

The girls’ faces lightened up almost instantly, Snow wrapping her arms around the fairy, while Rose stood by with a grin. There was a call from inside the house, Rose shaking her sister’s shoulder before jogging towards the door. Snow was quick to follow, giving the fairy one last wave before she ran indoors, the door closing behind her.

Zvezda let out a sigh as she looked to where she heard the noise earlier, her face falling into a tentative frown as she inched closer. Instinctively she shrunk herself, reading for a quick escape if necessary as she approached. But to her relief, she quickly recognised the hat hiding the black coils of hair the man from a few days ago wore, and the fairy relaxed. She grew in size once she was past the undergrowth, a smile playing on her lips.

“You do know it’s rude to eavesdrop on people’s conversations.” she teased, drawing Pierrot’s attention to her.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I was sitting far away and simply waiting for you to finish?” The man responded, with a coy smile of his own. Zvezda only sighed with a shake of her head as the man looked out to the house once more, gaze softening. “They seem sweet.”

“Ah, they are.” she nodded. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your untimely visit, Master Pierrot?”

The man softly chuckled, much to her confusion. “Oh please, you needn’t be so formal with someone like me.”

“I find it polite to address someone by title.” Her confusion remained even as the man smiled that same nice smile from the other night.

“Well, I must say I’m quite flattered. However it’s not exactly custom, especially when the one you’re referring to is hardly of any high rank.” he explained Zvezda’s frown only growing.

“What do you mean?”

The man let out a breath as he leaned against the tree. “I am no lord nor master. I am simply someone still learning the trade and stuck with a puppeteer, for whom I play music for at his shows. We aren’t a rich bunch, him and I. Hardly worth such delicate words.”

The fairy’s gaze cleared, nodding along. “Ah. Of course.”

Right. Customs.

While she considered herself well-versed in the ways humanity worked there were many things she had yet to really understand. Classes and ranks weren’t inherently important in the art of wish-granting. Yes there were, well, rules on who’s wishes may get granted or not it was never about money or wealth or anything of this sort. Titles were mere words of politeness to her, she never knew they held a greater significance outside of that.

“And besides,” her thoughts were interrupted by the man speaking up once more, the honey coloured eyes meeting hers once more, “I feel it’s more friendly when one is referred to just by their name don’t you think?” he grinned a little wider, Zvezda unable to bite back a grin of her own.

“I suppose so. Still, you haven’t answered my question; why are you here?” she asked once more.

Pierrot’s smile still remained. “My master—Lorenzini—is performing here for the next couple of days.”

“And why are you up here instead of with him? Won’t he come looking for you?”

“Not if he thinks I’m simply gathering wood for the fire.” Pierrot grinned, batting his lashes innocently and earning himself a chuckle from the fairy. “The show continues tomorrow anyway, I will not be missed. But I heard your voice and, well, forgive for the intrusion but I simply couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you again after so long.”

Zvezda smiled, her eyes crinkling at how wide it got. “Well, I can’t say it’s not a delight to see you as well, though unfortunately I cannot stay for long. I know The Blue Star will be awaiting my return already-”

“Wait!” Pierrot exclaimed before she could shrink. “When could I see you again?”

She sighed as she was engulfed in a pale light, Zvezda now hovering in front of the man. “When our paths cross next, I’m afraid.”

“Then I shall look forward to that day.” the man smiled, Zvezda’s breath hitching. Her chest felt so warm all of a sudden, a feeling she had yet to experience. She nodded her head as she took to the sky.

“Until next time, Pierrot.” she called back, just barely catching sight of his little bow before the ground too small to see.

— PRESENT —

With one hand propped under his chin, Lampwick poked the stick at the kindling wood, a grimace plastered on his face. Never thought he’d live to see the day where he was sitting down in front of the fire intending to keep watch. He was surprised even at himself for offering. The big reason was because he saw Pinocchio ready to offer again after doing the shift just a day or so back alongside Lancelot. Given their options were three untrustworthy bitches, the bard and his wife, a teen, a toddler and the two animals, both he and Grace jumped up to offer instead. If it meant his own partner could rest, then he’d gladly take the task on… just this once.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t bored already. Most had retired for the night, except for a choice few, leaving him with little to do.

Lampwick stiffened for a moment as he felt something wrap around his shoulders from behind, relaxing all too quickly on seeing the mess of dark brown hair just off the side of his vision. He knocked his head against the man’s temple, hearing Pinocchio hum softly as the red-head buried his face against the man’s hair.

“Not like you to surprise me like this. What’s gotten into you?” he murmured teasingly.

“What? Can’t a guy give his fiancé some love for a change?” Pinocchio mumbled against his shoulder.

Lampwick huffed, leaning back into the arms that held him for once and relished in the moment. But only for a moment. Because when he looked over his smile faded, noticing how dim his beloved’s grin was. “Not when he’s looking at me with a face like that.” he pointed, rubbing his thumb over the frown lines forming on Pinocchio’s forehead. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong-”

“But something is wrong.” he insisted, eyes narrowing. “You’ve been out of it for the last couple of days. What’s going on?”

Pinocchio sighed, Lampwick’s eyes narrowing as he watched the man mull his thoughts over. He already knew what was about to come out of his mouth before he even sat down. It always came up. Every single time without fail. “It’s nothing of importance.”

“It’s important to me if it’s bothering you.” he retorted instantly as he took his hand in his own. “Talk to me, Pinocchio,” He paused as the brunette’s gaze dropped to their hands. “If it’s the training, it’ll get better-”

“It’s nothing to do with the training, I already knew I’d struggle there. It’s not like I’ve ever held a sword in my hands before.” Pinocchio cut in with a scoff, gaze still on their interwoven fingers. Lampwick could feel the tickle of the man’s index finger as he drew circles over his knuckle.

“Then what is it? Is someone annoying you?” Lampwick guessed, watching the man’s expression crumble a little. His eyes narrowed. “Maybe… invertently.”

Pinocchio let out a scoff, his head hanging in defeat. “I’ve spent… my whole life seeing the one person I saw as a caretaker look at me with nothing but disappointment in her eyes. All I ever wanted was to obtain her approval, hear her at least once say she was proud. And it just feels like—like even when I’m trying to do something right for once I can’t.”

Lampwick let out a scoff of his own. Of course it was Blue. He had an inkling it would be because of her. Red’s comment had been sudden and uncalled for. For someone that apparently knew shit about what they were doing she sure didn’t give off that impression with her words. No, he had a feeling she knew. And he was sure the fairy had been putting thoughts in her head like she usually would with everyone around ‘em. Anyone that knew Red well enough would know what she said weren’t entirely her own thoughts. Or at least knew the one that would often say ‘em might have had something to do with it.

“Fuck her, Pinocchio, you know how she gets.” he exclaimed.

“I can’t. I can’t!” Pinocchio ground his teeth together as he glared up at the man, Lampwick feeling his fiancé’s grip tighten on their hands. “Pray tell, how do you want me to do that? I had hoped for a moment that I could just do this one thing right but even now it seems like I’m failing…” he let out a heavy breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it would have been better to go forth with her plan instead.”

Lampwick’s own breath hitched. “And let yourself die before you even get a chance to do anything?”

“Least I’ll be remembered as something else rather than a coward.” The man muttered Lampwick’s grip on their hands tightening. He said nothing, even as Pinocchio dropped his head on his shoulder; even while he wrapped an arm around his back. “She already thinks we abandoned the cause.”

“But we didn’t.” Lampwick insisted as he pulled Pinocchio back and tried to catch his gaze. “She doesn’t know that, so don’ think she knows all when she doesn’. You’re not a runner. Not anymore,” he added, grinning cheekily at the look Pinocchio gave him. “Look, we’re gonna get t’ Camelot, find that tree, and free Merlin, then take on that dumbass king and he’s gonna regret thinking he could ever mess with us. Blue’s gonna not only have t’ respect you for once but witness a whole ass kingdom worship you. There’s no greater irony than tha’ situation actually. I can picture her astonished face already.”

Pinocchio straightened up, though he hardly seemed convinced.

“Unless we fail.”

“But we won’t.”

“You don’t know that-”

“And you don’t know if we will succeed or not.” Lampwick argued as he gently squeezed the man’s shoulders. “Quit the negative thinking, my dear. It’s gonna turn out okay. We’re gonna get out of this okay.”

“Now that’s the kinda thinking this mission truly needs.” said a voice from behind.

Any assurance on Lampwick’s face vanished in an instant. Seemed peace with this bard around was next to impossible to find. The man sucked in a deep breath, refusing to hide his annoyance.

“Not senseless thoughts of a defeat that’s yet to happen.”

“Do you mind?” he grunted as he turned to glare at the man.

“Oh don’t mind me! Just simply wandering around.” Taliesin grinned, which only irritated the red-head more.

“Take your wondering elsewhere, I’m trying t’ have a conversation with my guy.”

He heard Pinocchio chuckle and turned his attention to his man. Gone were the saddened eyes now replaced with mirth. Whether he was faking it or not it was hard to say right now but the noise was still a welcome sound to his heart.

“And we’re back to ‘my guy’.” the woodcarver teased.

“We never left.” Lampwick winked, ignoring the shuffling behind him.

“Seems rather disrespectful to demean your relationship with someone like your beloved like that, don’t you think?” Taliesin piped up again, Lampwick’s mouth pursing together. Even Pinocchio’s smile vanished.

Gods give them strength.

“I’ll call him what we’re both comfortable doing, got it? So stay out of our business.” Lampwick called out louder this time, his annoyance seeping into his tone and Pinocchio’s attempts to talk him down falling on deaf ears.

“I’m only looking out for our hero here, ensuring he has the support he needs in his time of need.”

“I can do that plenty fine myself thanks! We don’ need a third pair of hands and another mouth here.” he continued to argue, the bard only laughing.

“Oh, I’m- Forgive me, I was simply offering more given how much a rarity it is from you. Ensure our hero has support that’s most genuine and constant.”

Lampwick’s frowned deepened.

“I’m surprised by how much support you seemed to show for once. It’s not an unwelcome sight, of course,” the bard continued with a grin, his attention turned to the woodcarver now, “but I honestly thought he didn’t have a caring bone in his body.”

The red-head’s shoulder’s stiffened further, jaw ajar a touch. “What?” He dared look over at the man as he spoke, seeing Pinocchio frowning as well.

“I’m simply making an observation.” Taliesin explained, but his attention was still on the woodcarver rather than the man he was answering. “Forgive my boldness, but with such a difficult journey ahead, it’s only natural to be concerned if the one we’re all relying on has the support he needs.”

There was an air of haughtiness to the guy as he raised his chin up, and it made Lampwick bristle. He found himself remembering why the hell he was so against hanging around nobility: always thought they knew better somehow—always thought they’re the ones in the right in any situation.

… But maybe that rang true for this moment though?

He pulled his pipe out as he turned back to the fire, unaware of the way Pinocchio’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course, this is only what I’ve noticed, don’t take it as fact,-” he heard Taliesin continue, as he stuffed his pipe and lit it, “-but all this tension with the queen and our lovely new stranger around makes for a difficult atmosphere to work with, especially when the one that you needed most is only making it worse-”

If the man had anything else left to say, he had swallowed his words back the minute Pinocchio stood up as swift as a flying arrow. Lampwick glanced up, seeing the hard stare his partner had fixed the bard with, the red-head’s expression barely masking his surprise.

“As my beloved previously stated, you may take your pondering elsewhere and out of our private conversation. I have no interest in what you have to say about him, much less his relationship with me.” Pinocchio stated coolly.

“My apologies, sires I was simply trying to make conversatio-”

“Take it elsewhere, I do not care for it.” firm was the response Pinocchio gave, Lampwick noting how unwavering was the man’s glare.

“Yes! Yes, of course! Goodnight, sires.” Taliesin responded hurriedly before quickly shuffling away.

The look Pinocchio had remained as he watched the bard leave, standing still with his hands still balled at his sides until the man finally disappeared into the dark. It was rare to see him get so intense. Yes, he knew he had it in him of course, the man was no wimp, but it wasn’t always something Lampwick was able to witness. He couldn’t help but admire it a little. Man’s got guts…

“Gods, some people.” Pinocchio scoffed as he dropped back down on the log.

“Can’t help but to judge, hm?” Lampwick asked, realising too late how hollow he sounded. His gaze remained trained on the fire, pretending he couldn’t feel Pinocchio’s eyes on him.

“You alright?”

Fuck.

He scoffed, giving Pinocchio a look. “The day I’m gonna let some numbskull that doesn’t know us get the better of me is the day I finally let you kiss me, mouth on mouth, in public.”

Pinocchio let out a noise, Lampwick sticking his tongue out at the man. He ignored the ache in his chest as Pinocchio simply laughed at his antics, nudging his shoulder gently.

“You’re impossible.” Pinocchio grunted.

“Yet you love me,” Lampwick countered. ‘Don’t you?’ His mind filled in, the man turning his gaze back to the fire in front of him. He put his pipe to his lips and took a good few drags from it, somehow hopelessly hoping that the smoke would drown out the endless noise in his head right now.

Pinocchio huffed next to him, Lampwick feeling the sudden weight on his shoulder as the woodcarver lay his head to rest on it. It should have been comfortable… And usually it would be— but right now it just made him feel anything but. He almost wanted to shrink away, disgust seeping into his bones as the bard’s words rang in his head like a never-ending death bell. Yet he forced his shoulders to relax despite it all, not wishing to poison whatever atmosphere remained.

“Okay I’d best get some rest.” he heard Pinocchio murmur, feeling the brunette's breath as he leaned over and gently pressed his lips against the corner of the red-head’s mouth. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Lampwick whispered, the smile slowly fading as the man left. He rubbed at his mouth, the taste of the man’s lips still fresh on his own… and yet for the first time in so long it held a bitter aftertaste. Sour almost. Not so much because of who gave it but the words that came before it.

Unsupportive. Making things worse.

Was Pinocchio really better off without him being here? Was he not doing enough…?

It’s not like he was stupid enough that he didn’t know how judgy people were of him and of Pinocchio for being around him. Hell he had his own transgressions about it. Often wondering… No. No, now wasn’t the time to wonder.

He scoffed, glaring into the fire as he refilled his pipe and lit it once more. His brooding was quickly interrupted by a meow, Lampwick grunting as he pulled back when Figaro leapt into his lap without prompting.

Lampwick huffed with a smile, while the tom pressed himself against the man’s chest, purring while he wrapped his tail around the red-head’s shoulder. Lampwick shook his head, giving in to the demands of the feline and he wrapped an arm around him, pulling the pipe out of his mouth and leaving it on the log. “The one guy that can’t disappoint a single fool,” he muttered, giving the cat a scritch under his chin. The purring from the tuxedo amplified as he pulled his head back, exposing more of his neck to the man to get and carelessly pressing his furry head against the man’s cheek. “Not a care in the world in ya, so long as yer getting spoiled.” he rolled his eyes as the cat let out a little “A!” in response. His gaze trailed to his shared tent with Pinocchio, gazing sadly at it. He knew the man was probably already asleep while in his bedroll would lie Iskra. The toddler was, presumably with Pinocchio as always. The little tyke rarely refused the hold of that man. Couldn’t really blame her on that front.

He sighed as he placed the cat on the log—much to Figaro’s protest— and inched towards the tent. He glanced inside and saw that the kid was, in fact, not with Pinocchio this time, but curled up shivering next to Iskra who was nosing her in her sleep. Yeah hard to get warmth if you’re laying on the bedroll rather than in it. He reached out, carefully holding the pipe between his teeth as he tried to, as gently as possible, pick the toddler up and pull the cover out from underneath her. He quickly tucked her in on seeing her stir.

He paused for a moment, before reaching for his bag and shuffling through their supplies in search of the blanket he was sure he had packed. He didn’t know shit about kids, but he did know something about keeping warm. So he draped the blanket over the kid, seeing Bethan looking up from beneath half-lidded eyes. He gave her a grimace and pulled his hands away as he backed out of the tent, watching her fall back to sleep. The man let out a breath at his completed little quest. Now, back to-

A rustle of the bushes had him instantly on his feet and reaching for his knife as he spun around, seeing movement in the dark shadows.

He edged closer, eyes narrowed as he looked over to where he left Figaro. The cat was licking at his paw and grooming the top of his head carelessly, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The man’s eyes darted back to where the noise had come from but saw nothing.

‘Prolly jus’ some wild animal,’ he thought as he forced himself to relax, going back to his spot at the fire. Guess he was still on high alert after that unexpected interruption from the bard, who seemed to love doing that. He rolled his eyes and sat down by the feline to take up his vigil once more.

— SUMMER, 1955 —

Zvezda had no idea what she had been expecting when the man had called upon her. Frankly, she never knew what to expect with him. That was part of the allure of their meetups really. It always brought about something new and exciting. Each talk with the bard made her eager to come back again. Each look in his eyes and the sound of his laughter always made her heart flutter. It was a strange experience but one she cherished with delight.

What she hadn’t been prepared for this time, was to end up blindfolded and led around. He was a gentle guide, of course, but the fairy wasn’t known for her patience when she was determined to understand something. So carefully she worked to peel the blindfold up, just barely catching the man’s eye as she did so.

“Stop trying to peek!” Pierrot laughed as he pulled the blind fold down once more.

The fairy’s cheeks puffed out as she pouted. “We’ve been walking like this for so long! Where are you even taking me?” she exclaimed.

“Shhhhh, patience, zvezdochka moya. It’s a lovely virtue to have.” he chuckled as he heard the woman sigh. “We’re almost there.”

She let out another huff, but remained quiet. She could still hear Pierrot’s chuckles as he carefully led her towards wherever it was. She had no idea where he was taking her. All he said was that she needed to keep her eyes closed and started pulling her along. She didn’t know for how long they could have been walking for until they at last stopped. She waited for something to happen, head turning left and right but was met with nothing.

“Now may I take it off?” she asked.

“Yes!”

She quickly pulled the blindfold off and opened her eyes, squinting against the lamplight as she looked around. A gasp left her.

“Whoa!”

She was surrounded by an array of colours—blues, pinks, whites and greens— shimmering around her amidst the stones of the cavern. In the distance she could hear the quiet dripping of water echoing through the cave, a sound that only added to the beauty.

“Oh, this looks like the Dwarven mines with all their diamonds!” A grin spread across her face as she stepped further inside.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She turned back, eyes gleaming. “It’s amazing, Pierrot!”

“I’m really glad you think so. Because it means my plans aren’t ruined.” Pierrot mused with a grin as she turned back.

“What plans?”

The bard said nothing as he only stepped around her, leading her through the cave. Her breath hitched as the light landed on the spread out blanket with a small basket, casting a shadow on the few bits of bread, grapes and cheese present.

“It’s not much but— sadly there was only so much food I could smuggle out.” the man chuckled sheepishly, as he gestured to the setup. “Care to join me for a little picnic under the cavern’s glimmer?”

Zvezda’s grin couldn’t get wider as she stepped closer to the man and sat herself down.

“This is all — it’s so lovely.” she breathed as she gazed around, eating at the handful of grapes she had taken.

“Well, I wanted to commemorate our time better given we haven’t really had much of a chance in the past, lyubimaya.” Pierrot admitted as she turned back.

“Thank you. Though what’s with all the sweet words all of a sudden?” Zvezda asked, tilting her head a touch.

“Well I unfortunately never received the honour of learning your name.” Pierrot pointed out with a laugh. His gaze grew gentler as he spoke once more, the look once again melting the woman’s heart like it always would. “Is that something I may earn now?”

“Well…” she wondered.

Her name… it wasn’t something that was given out willingly to all of those around her. ‘Zvezda’ was one she used among her charges. And while she could give him that, for strangers and friends alike… it wasn’t common. She wasn’t one to uphold all the rules the fae had, but the power names had was one she really hesitated testing.

Despite her unwillingness to be the Blue Fairy’s puppet, the caution all the fae had about their names, and the ability for it to be abused was something that haunted her even when she was still just starting out as a dust fairy. It was hard to forget the rumours of what happened with Sugar Plum when King Lukotorix had gotten a hold of it… and used her goodness and magic to reign terror over the kingdoms. They said Reul Ghorm had been the one to strike the king down and strip him of his power, returning what remained of Sugar Plum’s back to her… but she wondered just how much of that was true and how much was an exaggeration to up the Blue Fairy’s ego.

She trusted Pierrot, of course, but her caution remained even now. The power of a fairy’s true name, even in the hands of a good and pure mortal, could still be used against them.

“How about you give me a name instead?” she suggested, smiling even as the man’s brows shot up in surprise.

“Sorry?”

She shrugged. “Why not? One could say it’s like those nicknames you folk love to share, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” Pierrot nodded, yet his hesitance remained. “Are you sure of this?”

“I’m positive.” She nodded, the man’s smile returning.

“Alright then! Hmmm…” The man hummed thoughtfully as he searched the woman’s face. Zvezda couldn’t help but chuckle a touch at the scrunched up thoughtfulness Pierrot wore the longer he thought, watching a grin trying hard to break out from beneath the frown lines. “Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalvina.” He concluded with a nod. “I’ll call you Malvina.”

The fairy’s brows shot up in amusement. “What? Like the bride of the late Oscar?”

Pierrot’s smile widened. “Ah, you’re familiar with the tale as well.”

Zvezda huffed, “Mostly. It’s been a while since I’ve read that man’s tale.”

“Well I know the college had the scrolls with it, if you wish to find and see it once more.”

The fairy’s eyes widened. “I would love that. But wouldn’t-”

“Listen, I have no intention of staying with this man forever.” Pierrot started, his expression suddenly so serious that it had the fairy with turquoise hair sitting up just a touch straighter. “I know it’s only been a short while, but the time I’ve spent with you has been the most glorious of times. I feel free when I am with you, Malvina. Like I could touch the stars—little as they may seem—swim the oceans, I could do anything!! So long as I am with you. I could be me. Not just ‘Pierrot of Lorenzini’s Great Puppet Theatre’, but just— Just Pierrot.”

“What are you trying to say?” she asked quietly.

“Forgive me, I ramble too much,” the man chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “These are not feelings I’m ultimately familiar with if I’m honest but I— I adore our times together. And while I certainly wouldn’t push you if you don’t desire the same, I'd love to make our time together more… eternal.”

A deep breath. “Malvina, I love you. I don’t know for how long it’s been, but I love you, I know this for sure. You are the brightest star I see every night, your voice the sweetest lullaby but more importantly… Your kind and gentle nature is beyond compare. Maybe it’s typical for fairies but I’ve never felt treated like I was an equal before, not even by my peers. You’re the first to make me feel… feel like I’m more than just nothing. I know I said it wasn’t common for folks like myself to use honorary titles but,” he laughed, “I don’t know. I don’t prefer them, but it was nice to hear it for once. I fear I’m repeating myself now, but I truly am grateful for the times we’ve spent together, and it feels so bold to say this but I really would spend eternity with you, Malvina. If you were to allow it.” And so his speech came to an end.

Zvezda stared with her mouth agape at the man sitting before her. If her heart raced any faster she was sure it would beat right out of her chest. Her face was warm, maybe even hot enough to burn. The cavern seemed a lot brighter all of a sudden, Zvezda quickly realising that her hair was glowing bright as the feelings in her heart. Words were beyond her. Any thought she might have had was replaced with a fluttering feeling in her chest. And soon the fairy found herself laughing, the sound ringing loud and clear throughout the cavern.

“What?” Pierrot asked, looking baffled.

“It’s just—” she breathed in quietly as she forced down the giggles once more. “I can’t help but remember what The Blue Fairy would constantly insinuate. Fairies can’t love, they’re not supposed to love. And I could never stop questioning that. She claims that we mustn’t love, yet I feel adoration for the few charges I got to watch grow up and experienced the ache when they stopped needing me and my guidance. Why is that not allowed? It feels so wrong. We’re giving humanity wishes and a chance of happiness, so why aren’t we supposed to feel the same?” Zvezda shuffled, her smile never fading as she toyed with the hem of her dress.

“No fairy ever talks of these experiences. It’s always their duty, their work and what needs to be done, it’s like they don’t experience it. Blue always claims that I’ve grown and changed in ways that she never considered and, well, I’m not stupid enough to see that she’s not too fond of that. It often made me wonder if… because of how close I tried to be with my charges—if my studies and experiences amongst others— made me lose my likeness to other fae for good.”

“You are right just the way you are!” Pierrot protested as he reached for her hand, fingers delicately held out and inches from hers but never taking them. “Forget those naysayers that claim otherwise, you are a fairy of your own choosing.”

“Pierrot but that’s the thing. Because whether that is the case or not; I don’t care!” Zvezda grinned, as she took his hands. “I don’t care, I am… I know who I am. I am Malvina! And I could be a-a troll, or a human, or a fairy and it wouldn’t matter! Because I am who I am and I’m okay with that no matter what. If I stopped having wings tonight, it wouldn’t matter, because I am still me. And the individual that I am… she says she-” she breathed in deeply, her grin matching the man’s. “She says she loves you too. I’ve met many kind souls but never one as wonderful as yours. And I would gladly stay at your side as much as you allow me to.”

Pierrot’s jaw dropped, surprise apparent even as they both sat in each other’s comfort in silence.

“Oh, Gods, I-” he suddenly said with a chuckle, “I didn’t expect to get this far.”

Zvezda chortled. “You didn’t?”

“Well I’m a ‘takes things as they come’ individual! I wasn’t ready for anything, so now I’m— oh, what next?”

Zvezda chuckled. “Could I perhaps offer a suggestion?”

“Always.”

“Well,—” the fairy eyes fell to the man’s hands, her heart hammering as she considered her next set of words, “—isn’t it often custom to kiss? So maybe you could try that.”

Pierrot gawked. “Are you- are you asking me if I could kiss you?”

“I’ve never really tried it before so you’ll have to lead really.” she glanced up with a shy grin. “But yes, I suppose I am asking that.”

The man’s smile widened. “Well then! You need to lean closer.”

Zvezda chuckled, but complied. “Okay? What now?”

“A little closer, as though we’re about to tell ourselves a very special secret.” Pierrot murmured as he drew closer himself.

Zvezda’s grin widened. “A secret you say?” she whispered, their noses now touching.

“Yes. A secret about-” he pressed his lips against hers, pulling back as Zvezda took a sudden breath. “Our sealed declaration.”

The fairy’s lips remained parted as she exhaled, eyes wide in wonder even as the boy pulled back. She was quick to cup his face, searching his face for any hesitation or anything. But no, all she saw was adoration, his brown eyes warm and smile so soft. She pressed her forehead against his, humming softly under her breath as she closed her eyes.

“Consider it a secret well kept.” She whispered, as she pulled him in for one more kiss.

— PRESENT —

Day six. It had been six days but there was still no response. She wasn’t one to consider the worst case scenario like every half-minded fool, but she couldn’t help but feel concern over the growing silence from Red. She had expected to receive an answer by now. Something. Anything! Whether that was by her return with the rest of them or Lupi alerting her of their whereabouts. And yet, there had been nothing.

The Blue Fairy stepped over to the window, eyes narrowing up at the stars, as though the constellations dotting the blue would provide her with an answer. She had no reason to believe that Red would deceive her. She of all people knew how important this was.

So why the silence?

She wouldn’t expect this sort of thing from another fairy such as Sugar Plum. Scout or not, she knew she could rely on her. Yet that wasn’t possible any longer. The Blue Fairy sighed, sadness flickering across her gaze as she rolled her sleeve up and pulled out the silver band on her wrist; a single strip of gold weaved around it. It was still in parts speckled with dark blood… but she was glad to have at least saved this before she went and had her buried.

She huffed, her gaze turning icy cold once more as she pulled out her wand and gave it a twirl, the cloud of blue dust enveloping her before dissipating. Gone was the palace window she had been standing in front of, replaced by the wooden cottage of the woodcarver. It stood abandoned—dark and cold—with no one in sight near it.

‘Six days.’ She wondered as she twirled her wand once more and saw the path leading towards the forest. She’d waited six days but she couldn’t wait any longer.

Her choice made, the fairy shrunk to the size of a small pinecone, Reul Ghorm zipping through the treelines and following the path she had conjured.

— SUMMER, 1956 —

Another scratch on the parchment could be heard as Pierrot scribbled out yet another unsavoury line. He never thought he’d live to see the day where writing a song would prove so… challenging. Was he going through a case of the block? He couldn’t say for sure. But this was the third line he had scratched out now just this evening.

Perhaps it was the block… or his simple stubbornness to wanting this to sound nothing but perfect.

The young adult sighed, as he glanced down at the lute illuminated by the lamplight. To think that nine years ago he had merely started his journey as a musician… he was a mere babe of ten at the time and here he was now, years later, writing a song about love. Love that wasn’t even just some made up fantasy. It was real; she was real. It felt like such a dream to him really. He never would have considered it possible back then and yet… truth was as bright as the star that shone the most for him.

Pierrot smiled, eyes sliding shut as his thoughts drifted away. Malvina, his dear Malvina. Truly a one of a kind individual. He could feel his heart race as he pondered about their short little meetups, her smile, her laughter, her… her everything.

Gods above, how was it that a mere fellow like him had gotten so lucky?

“Your heart is so loud, mo chuisle. There are fairies that wish to sleep.”

He opened his eyes on hearing Malvina’s voice, seeing the small creature flutter down in front of him. The boy chuckled, as he hastily folded the parchment still in his hand and stuffed it into the back of his inner pocket.

“I hope you weren’t one of them. I’d hate to wake you from a well-earned rest.” he mused as he watched her glow, her size changing right before his very eyes. Suddenly sitting on the window sill was a full grown woman, until she slid down onto the terrace itself. Her yellow wings glimmered in the light cast by her hair.

“No, it’s alright. My time is through the night.” she assured him with a smile. “So what’s keeping you up so late, hm?”

Pierrot shook his head with a loving smile. “Oh nothing special. Just musing through the night.”

“Once more?”

“Isn’t that just so typical of me.” he simpered, making the other giggle. The bardling leaned back against the railing of the wagon, his gaze still on the fae. “To what do I owe to such a lovely visit?”

“Well, aside from your yearning soul-” she started, the man chuckling a little at the comment, “I did actually want to tell you something.”

“And what might that be, my moonflower?”

“Well…” Malvina sat up on the railing, her wings fluttering almost excitedly behind her. “you know what’s happening next week?”

He smiled “I might have an idea of what could be happening. But it depends on whether that is what you were thinking about.”

Another giggle emitted from the fae, the bard’s heart racing once more. “Maybe. It’ll be a year since, well–” she reached out, taking the boy’s hand and quietly playing with his fingers.

“Indeed it will be.” Pierrot nodded along.

“Well… That day you showed me a wonder of your own world, and this time, I’d like to repay you by showing a little of mine.” she continued, her eyes still on his fingers as she slowly closed his hand.

The mans’ eyes widened. A chance to see her world?! Was this real or was he dreaming? “But the fairies,-”

“Oh you needn’t worry about that! Where we’re going it isn’t a place they’ll frequent much, especially during the night.” Malvina assured, grinning down at him.

His curiosity peaked as he leaned a little closer. “And where would that be?”

The fae’s smile grew, as she closed his hand up and lay her other over it. “You’ll see. Meet me by the birch tree that resides nearby next week, when the moon’s at its peak. I will show you then.”

Pierrot carefully pulled his hand, still held in the embrace of hers, to his lips and gently kissed the top of hers. “I will do as my lady requests.” He murmured, meeting her smile with his own.

— PRESENT —

Lampwick was acting weird. Weirder than usual.

For starters, the bastard never woke her up halfway through the night like they agreed for her shift. Grace, instead, found him first thing in the morning still sitting on the log and staring at flames she had presumed died earlier with his empty pipe still stuck to his mouth. His brown eyes were bloodshot and skin so pale his hair and beard seemed even brighter than usual.

Iskra hadn’t left his side, continuously trying to get his attention but even that seemed to take little effect. The man practically reeked of whatever bloody shit he’d been smoking, enough that plenty of their group avoided being anywhere close by him as they walked. She wondered if that wasn’t almost deliberate. But that was the thing with him; it was hard at times to tell what shit he’d pull being his typical self and when it had a purpose. And all of this, strange as it all was, was one of those many moments. When she looked behind and saw Pinocchio’s furrowed gaze, however, she considered it being the latter option.

“You wanna tell us which path you’re taking us on?” Lampwick suddenly piped up, his voice so hoarse he and Iskra sounded like siblings. It left her cringing. Maybe his fiancé should have discarded that stupid pipe of his for one night like he usually would.

“I firmly believe that surprises are a welcome treat, especially when it comes to the journey.” Taliesin responded from the front without a minute glance behind.

Grace watched the taller man’s lip curl upwards in annoyance. “That’s the most stupid logic I’ve heard coming out of yer mouth lately, ya hear? Especially when we’re in the midst of a war.”

“I have to agree with him.” Prince Henry chimed in, carefully sidling up to Lampwick as he looked around. “This place is looking strangely like the road to Royaume de Rose. You know, the kingdom you told us was about to be under siege.”

“Yeah, why the hell are we going through here? And where’s the fuck are the armies?” Lampwick continued, looking equally annoyed.

“Probably still preparing.” The bard stated, making the prince scoff. Even Grace had to admit that sounded ridiculous.

“It’s been seven fucking days and you’re telling me the kingdom you came from with a warning’s still got not’ing ready for a war that is t’ be waged on them?! That sounds like bullshit!” Lampwick exclaimed a little louder.

“No, that’s simply you not understanding how preparations work.”

“I don’t need to understand shit to sniff out a fucking liar!” The red-head sneered, Grace subconsciously glancing back at his boyfriend, who was watching his own fiancé with plenty of concern. “It shouldn’t take ya ten bloody days to tell the men of the castle t’ start readying and seeing camps set up.”

“Oh, suddenly the woodcarver’s husband is well-versed in war strategy, huh?” The Queen piped up, Grace biting back a groan.

“And who asked for your imput?!” Lampwick snapped back at her with a glare. “An’ with THAT logic in mind, why’s the bard suddenly knowledgeable in how battles work?! Shouldn’ you be practising a new song or kissing it up to every lord like some court jester?”

“Hey! That’s not all we do!” Pierrot called out from the back.

“Enlighten me then.” Lampwick scoffed as he looked behind, only to wave an impatient hand at the man before he even had a chance to get a word out. “Actually don’t, I couldn’t give less of a shit. Because my point is, we’re walking past what’s supposed to become a warzone yet no one’s here and not’ing’s going on. Where the fuck’s everyone?!”

“He does make a point.” Lancelot chimed in from next to the prince.

“Thank you!”

Taliesin sighed. “Sire, I can assure you that the route we’re taking is entirely safe right now. Mordred doesn’t even know that Rose will be ready and waiting. And is coming in from an entirely different angle.”

The reasoning made Grace scoff, noting the disbelief on both Henry and Lampwick’s faces. Yeah, that didn’t sound quiet right to her either.

“If you wish for further proof, then I could simply show you where we are and where Camelot’s king is marching through. Who has the map?” Taliesin continued, glancing back around at the group.

“It should be on me,” Grace piped up, immediately dropping down into a crouch and searching the bag. Her eyes narrowed the longer she rummaged, movements growing more frantic. “I don’t-” she shook her head and frowned as she moved through the stuff once more. But that didn’t help at all. The map was gone. “It’s not here.”

“You lost it?!” The Queen shouted, as the woman stood up.

“What?” Grace heard Henry ask, seeing him frowning from in front of the bard.

“Oh dear.”

“Not intentionally!” her eyes narrowed as she answered the calls of astonishment, feeling her face burn with embarrassment regardless.

“You still lost it, you foolish girl!” The Queen continued her angry retorts, the light-haired woman bristling. She had half the mind to say something to the witch but her brother in arms was quick to beat her to the punch.

“Don’t you dare speak like that to her!”

“To be fair, I don’t think you were the last to have it, miss.” Taliesin spoke up once more, “I remember seeing our lovely new-comer have a hold on it just last night.”

Grace froze as she turned her attention to Red. “What?!”

The red-cloaked lady shuffled awkwardly in place, looking a little guilty at least. “That… Well yes, I can’t deny that actually. I wanted to check and see where we were.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were borrowing the map?!” Grace snapped as her grip tightened on the backpack. Was it THAT hard to just ask instead of rummaging through someone’s belongings?!

“I was going to give it back to you come the morning, because I didn’t get to catch you that evening. Hold on-” Red sighed as she reached into her own bag and rummaged around. As her eyes widened, Grace knew exactly what she was about to say. “No. Not possible I had it, it was here!”

“Oh great! You showed up and now we’re mapless!” Lampwick spat, throwing his hands up in the air. “Now we have to rely on this guy t’ get us there!”

“I take great offence to that! I can lead plenty fine.” Taliesin bristled.

“Then why are we going through Rose?!” both the prince and red-haired called out, one angry while the other irritated.

“Good grief!” Red huffed as she turned to the knight. “Lancelot! You’re from Camelot as well! Surely you remember a better way back right?”

Lancelot could only grimace as he responded; “I wish I could say yes, but it’s been so long since I was there-”

“Spare us the lament!” Lampwick cut in sharply, glaring around the whole of the group. “Anyone else know how to get to that blasted kingdom?!”

Grace froze on feeling something clinging to her coat, the woman whipping around and seeing the child peeking out from behind her, brows furrowed but eyes alight.

“Maybe I could help-!”

“Like hell I’d follow a child!” The Queen huffed, Grace biting back a curse aimed at the woman. Especially on seeing the child frown and shrink back.

“I will not be following after the curseling either!” the bard from the front called out, making the kid shrink back even more. “You’d best stick to the back.”

The dark blonde’s hands balling into fists. The desire to punch the bastard was only growing more, the woman saved from any foolish actions by her loyal idiot wheeling around and retaliating:

“You leave your biassed shit out of this, Taliesin!”

“Oh for gods sake! If we can’t figure this out, let me take the lead.” The Queen exclaimed as she shoved her way through the middle. Protests quickly followed her words, Grace’s annoyance chorusing alongside Lampwick and Henry’s. But the queen was no longer listening as she moved to the front.

“What?! Got any bright ideas, Tweedle dumb and Tweedle dumber?!” she retorted, sneering at the two adults. “If you wish stand around all day then be my guest! Anyone stupid enough to consider that as their option can just stay here and screw around for all I care.”

“Pinocchio, say something!” Henry whipped around and called out, making the man pause.

“Um-”

“You’re the one that got this group together! What do you think we should do?” the prince continued, pointed gaze at the woodcarver.

But the brunette had his gaze traversing between both the boy and his boyfriend. Grace could quickly see why; the red-headed man expression was entirely blank, unreadable even by those most perceptive. Pinocchio stiffened as the silence continued, shooting the prince and Lampwick an apologetic look as he spoke; “I don’t think we have much of a… choice. If the map’s gone we’re really on our own here.”

Grace bit back a comment. There was no helping it, he had a point, much as the idea of following the Evil Queen pissed her off. She noticed Henry’s annoyance as well, but he too remained silent, even when the queen let out a huff and started striding forward. But it seemed one person had other plans on his mind as he scoffed.

“Lovely. But guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d let her pull your strings if you still let Blue do the same.”

Grace’s blood ran cold as she gawked.

“What?” Pinocchio uttered, but Lampwick had already turned around and marched off.

Grace watched Iskra look between the men, a quiet whicker leaving the pony until she darted after Lampwick as well. The blonde, however, found herself rooted to the ground. She knew him to be an asshole, but that had been too far even for him. Pinocchio’s expression still carried the opened-mouth shock that eventually faded to nothingness, which only added onto her annoyance. She glared up at the red-head as he walked past her, Grace grabbing onto his sleeve.

“What is your-” she had no time to finish her sentence as the man shoved past her without another word, Grace’s scowl growing. There was something definitely wrong here.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She looked behind on hearing the worried question, seeing Malvina leaning heavily against Pierrot. Her brows furrowed worriedly at the pale woman, the bard looking equally concerned as he held her up.

“Just a bit tired.” the fairy said. And she wasn’t entirely wrong; she looked wiped out almost. She couldn’t even call that an exaggeration because even as Malvina tried to right herself up a little more; her weight was still heavily held up by Pierrot. “I’ll be okay solnyshko, I just need a little quiet.”

Pierrot smiled softly and kissed her on the temple, Grace turning away from the private moment as she marched forward.

“Then quiet I shall provide you with.” she heard the bard say, the woman picking up her pace.

She had her mind set on just one individual right now, and it was the idiot that stuck to the sidelines alongside his pony. His fiancé had remained in the centre, walking alongside Lancelot and The Prince with his gaze trained ahead. But she wasn’t stupid to think he hadn’t felt the sting of Lampwick’s words.

Her goal was certain; she wasn’t about to give him any peace or quiet—not until he caved and started talking.

— SUMMER, 1956 —

Blue wasn’t one to fuss over all of her fairies, as much as others liked to claim she does. It’s the younger ones she’d usually have her eyes on the most. The ones that were still growing used to flying and carrying the fairy dust from place to place; the ones that followed her or the other older fairies around, looking for advice. Those she deemed responsible were of little concern to her. But seeing and hearing that the brightest among her junior fairy godmothers had forgotten three requests she had been given today already, that made her reconsider her stature on watching over all of them.

She knew Reul na Maidne to be responsible, it was hardly like her to act foolishly. Not often, at least. They’ve had their differences, and would sometimes disagree on points (especially when it came to that one Woodcarver’s puppet), but she knew well enough that the fairy had only the best of intentions in mind. Not to mention her charges were all quite happy.

That should have been enough; but it wasn’t, not when she watched the fairy move around her on entering the library, turquoise hair swaying behind her as she hummed a quiet melody.

“Reul na Maidne? Is everything alright?” Blue asked, looking over and noting the scrolls in the girl’s hand.

“I asked you not to call me that,” Came the quick, curt response. as expected from her, “But yes, I’m fine, it’s just been a very thrilling night.” The fairy smiled, looking down at the page she was reading.

Blue carefully looked over, just barely catching a glimpse of what was on the page before the younger fairy pulled it shut.

A map. She was looking at a map.

“So it would seem.” she hummed. Her expression remained neutral as Zvezda giggled, and walked back out with a little wave.

“Well, until tomorrow, Reul Ghorm!” Zvezda chirped as she skipped out of the library.

“Until then.” she turned back to the books she was sorting once more, her expression clouding more and more.

A map. Why on earth did she need a map? Logically she could potentially be planning an outing with one of her charges. She knew the fairy wasn’t above that. But the way she had been acting lately… it was starting to worry her. The fairy was distracted, clearly, and her focus wasn’t on her tasks like it should be.

“Blue? Is everything alright?”

She heard a voice from behind and glanced over. Standing just a few inches below her was another fairy, dressed in pink with gold trimming patterned around her skirt in the form of small glimmering stars. Her short, ginger hair was pinned back, any loose curls cascading over her shoulders. Her smile was small but sweet under the freckles that dotted her whole face, eyes bright green and joyous. The fairy’s wings, shaped similarly to that of a mayfly's, glimmered a soft pink in the morning light, and judging from the satchel she had at her side, she was either just about to set out to start her day or just returned from her duties in the night.

“Perhaps.” Blue mused as she turned away from her old friend.

“Perhaps? You don’t sound so sure.” Sugar Plum chuckled, but her smile faded the moment Blue looked over. ‘It would seem her concern was quite evident,’ is all she thought as she turned back to the books.

Blue wondered carefully, hearing the careful footsteps approaching until she noticed Sugar Plum leaning closer. She sighed and shook her head as she continued with her sorting. “It’s Zvezda. She’s been acting strange lately. She doesn’t seem as focused as she usually would, and I’m starting to wonder if she hasn’t taken on too much.”

“But Zvezda’s usually-”

“Yes, I’m aware. Which is why I’m rather worried.” The Blue Fairy cut in, meeting the other’s gaze. She watched the worry swirl in the Sugar Plum’s eyes, feeling the fairy’s gentle concern emitting between them. An idea crossed her mind. She knew it was a lot to ask, but if there was one fairy she knew to count on for anything, it was Sugar Plum. “Do you think you could speak with her for me? I’d do it myself but, well, I feel she’d be more inclined to speak with someone she’s close with compared to myself.”

“You are her superior, Blue. I’m sure she’s willing to be open with you.” Sugar Plum murmured softly, Blue letting out a huff.

“She wouldn’t. I know this better than anyone. You of all people should know, given how unwilling she was to tell me of her late night studies on humanity.” She shook her head and watched as the pink fairy grimaced. “She’s young, eager, and willing to learn, but she will not take orders or advice from me I’m afraid.” Blue rested a hand on Sugar Plum’s shoulder. “She’d trust you. I’d just hate for there to be an accident to befall her or someone else due to a careless mistake.”

Sugar Plum remained unsure, irritating her bottom lip until her gaze flicked up, the woman giving the fairy a nod. “I can certainly try.”

Blue sighed quietly. “Thank you.”

She only hoped that her worries were nothing but irrational.

— PRESENT —

Dilemmas. Those weren’t something the pony often battled with. Her sole focus had always been on the boy, well man, that The Great Mare left her to look after. Always had been… she was never one to change trajectory no matter what may come, no matter how stupid he’d act and how much he’d try and push her away.

And right now he was trying very hard to do all of that at once.

For once in her life Iskra found herself… conflicted. The look of her charge’s beloved had rendered her frozen for a moment before she remembered her purpose and followed after Lampwick. It wasn’t an unusual situation, frankly quite typical but it was still a surprise at how… intense the man had been with his fiancé. She considered whispering into his own mind, seeing what it was that he was even thinking by saying such a thing but the look on Lampwick’s face said it all for her. He was not a sensitive individual, but the regret was still evident in the tight-lipped frown that threatened to pull down further; in the way his shoulders tensed despite trying to relax them; in the way he reached for his pipe—something that Iskra found herself so desperately tempted to grab a hold of and take away from him—and lit it once more, drowning himself in the smoke once again. She knew the man was foul-mouthed and foolish, she knew him to be reckless but those weren’t words he meant in earnest. She wasn’t ignorant to the fact that he was hurting as well right now, and it hurt her beyond belief to watch.

The pony gave a quiet whicker up at Lampwick, but received no response as they continued to trudge forward. Fast approaching steps had the mare looking behind, seeing Grace reach them and grab a hold of Lampwick’s sleeve.

“Hey! What the hell is up with you?” she hissed, eyes narrowed as she held on even when he tried to pull out of her hold.

“Nothing? What are you on about?” Lampwick grouched quietly, staring the woman down as the rest walked past them.

“You and your provocations are back like a terrible habit.” Grace continued, grimacing in disgust as Lampwick childishly blew the smoke out at her face. She relented and let go, the man righting his jacket as she coughed. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Nothing! There’s nothing going on!”

“You just brushed Pinocchio’s point off and talked back, did you even see the look he gave you?!”

“It doesn’t. Matter.” Lampwick’s eyes narrowed further “He thinks this is right then by all means I shouldn’t have t’ support every whim of his.”

“That’s not my point!” Grace snapped angrily, Iskra taking a short step back as the arguing ensued. “It’s not like you to disagree with him so outwardly like that! At a time like this!”

“And I’m suddenly in the wrong for not wanting to follow Little Miss ‘will curse the whole kingdom if you look at her wrong’?!”

“No! But that doesn’t mean we have much of a choice in the matter right now!”

The pony nodded her head quietly. She had little experience of what the Queen was like. Mother Mokosh never spoke much of what the realms were like and their trials… so the Queen’s actions were beyond her comprehension. But she remembered one thing; The anger that Grace felt when the Queen was mentioned throughout their youth. She could understand why that may be, of course, after her father had been stolen away from her for so long. Even now the bitterness remained, even if her anger seemed mostly at the pony’s charge.

“The least you could have done was keep your damn mouth shut!”

“Oh yeah play the sheep role like everyone else in this fucking group.” Lampwick scoffed, scuffling his boot over the dirt.

Grace’s lip pulled upwards as she sneered. “I’ll take the sheep over the jackass you’re being right now!”

Iskra couldn’t help but snort in offence, cheek wings flaring. There was a brief flash of hurt on Lampwick’s face but it was gone as quickly as it showed, giving way to a dangerous smirk.

“Oh those are some big words Jefferson’s little girl is using.”

“Don’t bring my father into this!” Grace warned.

“Why? I’m sure he’d love to hear you bitch about me once again.” Lampwick huffed out another puff of smoke. “Honestly sometimes I wonder if your whining wasn’t what made him leave in the first place!”

Iskra whickered in surprise, her ears pinning back and watching as Grace stiffened. The man in turn ground his teeth together, regret shining in his eyes but just a little too late. The damage was already done. Grace’s shoulders fell, the shock fading to anger as she glared up at the red-head.

“You know what? Forget I even cared.” Grace scoffed, shoving past him. “Sometimes I wonder why anyone bothers with you at all!”

Iskra watched her move past, her strides quickening until she saw no more of her. The pony glanced up at the man, who hadn’t moved from his spot since the woman had pushed past. His expression was unreadable once more, the pipe back in his mouth, and each puff of smoke coming out faster than the last. She sighed, nudging the man’s leg until he glanced down at her.

“Was that worth it?” was the question she tried to drop on the man’s mind. But he only stared placidly down at her. Lampwick sighed, stuffing his hands back into his pockets as he moved forward.

Iskra’s ears drooped, wings trailing along the breeze. Without another sound she lowered her head and followed after the man.

He had locked her out.

The same way he was doing with everyone else.

— SUMMER, 1956 —

Well. The talk itself could have gone better.

That was all Sugar Plum could think as she carefully followed after the fairy from behind.

The talk with Zvezda had resulted in her learning… nothing. Either there was nothing going on or she was hiding something and not wanting to talk about it, which she knew Reul Ghorm wouldn’t be too happy about if she simply reported that. So here she was, trying to follow after the fae as quietly as possible. Her confusion grew and grew the longer they flew, spying the old birch tree and the man that stood by it. A young one on top of that, maybe no older than Zvezda herself. Was this the new charge she had taken up? Most likely. That was the only thing that Sugar Plum could explain, even as the fairy grew in size, grabbed his hand and darted away through the trees, their laughter heard from a distance.

The small fairy flew after them, still keeping a careful eye on them as they reached a clearing. A circle of mushrooms lined the centre. A fairy circle… Why had she taken him to a fairy circle?

“Usually it’s the man leading, my lady!”

The exclamation had the fairy dart into the hollow of a birch tree, watching quietly from within it. She watched Zvezda reaching out and placing the instrument on the ground and grabbing the man’s hand.

“Well you can’t lead if you don’t know the dance!” Sugar Plum watched Zvezda step back and twirl her hand, the lute levitating upwards. Next to it appeared a couple of violins as well as a flute. They all started playing a tune of their own and creating a harmonised melody. She watched the fae hold her hand out to the man, leading him around in a simple little dance around the fairy circle. She knew the dance, of course, every young fairy learned it at some point, it was inevitable. But to see one teaching it to a human was beyond baffling.

“I do have to say, you are quite the talented lead.” The young adult chuckled.

“Why thank you, I try my best.” Zvezda responded with a grin, as the dance came to an end. Sugar Plum noted the mischief that danced in the boy’s eyes as he pulled the fairy over and spun her one more time, Zvezda squealing with delight. She looked up at him, her back still pressed up against the man, as he leaned down and kissed the fairy’s nose.

Sugar plum’s blood ran cold, brows shooting upwards. What were they doing?!

“I actually did have something for you as well.” The boy said, as he pulled back, and reached into the inner part of his jacket, pulling out a scrap of paper.

“Oh? What is it?” Zvezda asked, already trying to peek around only for him to pull the little scrap of paper away.

“Something a little special, if I may have my lute back.”

She wearily watched the fairy hand back the lute and chuckle, the two sitting back down on the ground. The man plucked at the strings before strumming a single tone as he started reciting.

At the break of day her light will shine,

A star like no other,

A star I dare call mine.

Her wings delicate as gossamer which glimmer with a hue,

Spun from the dawn’s first rays,

And twilight’s deep blues.

On and on the poem seemed to continue. Endless words of affection and love ringing through the clearing that sat at Sugar Plum’s eyes widening the longer she listened.

For my dear Malvina,

a sweet name you let me pick for thee,

will you do me the highest honours of loving me?

“You wrote all of this? And it was for-”

“For you. All of it is for you.” The man answered, Zvezda’s joy heard through ringing laughter. “Happy anniversary.” She heard him add, but Sugar Plum found herself unable to share their joy.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing right now. Of all the scenarios she could have considered since talking with the young fairy… this wasn’t one of them.

How could she?

It didn’t seem real and yet… here she was, bearing witness to it. She knew the fairy to be defiant but this wasn’t a step she thought she’d take, she knew what she had acclaimed to be the moment she became a fairy godmother. And yet the image of the young protégé, as Reul Ghorm used to refer to her as, felt suddenly so… wrong.

Quickly, the little fae snuck out of the hollow she had been hiding in and flitted away.

She was in love. That’s why she had been so distracted. And Sugar Plum felt discomfort grow deep within as she realised this. She knew the feelings themselves weren’t wrong but… Oh this was so unheard of. And she knew Blue wouldn’t be happy to hear about this.

Was she really so willing to tell her?

The Fairy had asked her to find out what was going on but she had expected it to be something unserious and this was—

Sugar Plum looked back, hearing the laughter behind her.

“We could do this again tomorrow!” She heard Zvezda call out, the little fairy coming to a stop, “Meet me by the old birch tree once more when the sun starts to set.”

Tomorrow… Sugar Plum stilled and looked up at the sky. She would—she would talk to Blue, as promised. And figure out what they’ll need to do from there.

— PRESENT —

Malvina had yet to leave Pierrot’s side since the last altercation, feeling like her feet were unreliable on the walk through the woods at the time. Her head felt less lighter since then, but it still felt like her bones were made out of stone, exhaustion making her slower than she usually would be. The former fairy was forever grateful for Pierrot’s unending support, even despite her offering little explanation for what was going on. Not like she really could explain it without feeling her own annoyance about it increase.

The curse of having once been a fairy she supposed; the emotions of those around her would still affect her. Where positivity—joy, excitement, love— replenished one’s soul, the negativity—hate, anger, jealousy and even deep grief— drained it. That was the basic idea of it. Most fairies would have been drained long ago being in the present of such an atmosphere that she had been exposed to for over a week now, but having lost her fairyhood, Malvina assumed that her immunity to it had gotten stronger. But then again, strong as it may be, the way these people acted was bound to take a toll on her eventually.

As her strength returned Malvina pulled away, yet kept her hand on the bard’s as they marched on. Trudging behind them and taking up the rear were the prince alongside Lampwick, who kept as far from the main group on the side as possible. The knight and Red Riding Hood walked alongside them with the queen upfront. After having caught up Grace had stuck herself firmly at the woodcarver’s side. While Pinocchio looked mostly unperturbed, the woman looked like she was fuming, refusing to glance anywhere except forward. The child had taken up the side outside of the group as well, her pout evident even from the distance Malvina was from her.

“Where. In the blazes are we?” Lampwick grunted out, Malvina withholding a sigh. The man had truly gone out of his way to make the whole journey as uncomfortable as possible today and it was starting to get on her nerves. Especially when she looked forward and noted the blank expression on Pinocchio’s face. She was no fool; she knew the words had hurt him back there. And she had half the mind to get on his fiancé’s case about it, but she figured she’d let him try and sort it first. If there was no change by tomorrow then she’ll make it happen herself.

“The forest.” The queen called back, Malvina rolling her eyes as the man scoffed.

“No, really? I thought we were out on the fucking tundra. I swear we’re going around in circles.”

“Leave the pathfinding to the professionals, why don’t you?” The queen called back.

“Yeah, ‘cause the princess that roamed around her claimed kingdom by horse and closed carriage knows how to track very well, huh?” the man continued to snark. “Just admit that we’re lost, Queenie!”

“We’re not lost!”

“You took us off of the main road and into the woods, which we’ve been roaming through for hours now!”

“And who’s fault is that, huh?” the walk stopped as Regina turned around and shot the man a glare. “Have you forgotten already who wanted a different route?”

“Well that didn’t mean taking the fucking scenic route or whatever!!” he argued back as she merely turned around and continued walking.

Malvina had hoped so, so much that that was the end of it. But of course, nothing could ever go right with this group, huh?

“Nothing is ever to your satisfaction! Literally how does anyone put up with your bullshit?!” The queen sneered, still marching forward. “You didn’t want to go through Rose so we’re taking a different route! Deal with it. What’s the worst that can happen anyway?”

“Careful what you wish for, dear.”

The stranger’s voice had Malvina whipping around, hearing swords pulled behind her and seeing a stranger holding onto the prince. The man’s grin widened as he held the blade tightly against the young boy’s neck, Henry grunting as he struggled against the hold.

“Let him go!” Malvina heard Pinocchio warn, Malvina taking a step back as she watched the undergrowth rustle, and a few others stepping out. She considered using her magic, but with most of it having gone to preserving herself she wondered if that was even a wise choice to make.

Not that she really had much of a chance to think about that. Because next thing she knew, the red-head’s steed had taken the grand opportunity that everyone had been distracted with to sneak up and ram the knight from behind, making him stumble and let go. Malvina threw her hand out, pulling Henry towards her with the help of a magical force right as a fire-bolt struck the ground between them and the knights, engulfing the ground in flames.

“Go! Go!!” she heard the queen call, Malvina pulling Henry in front of her before breaking into a sprint herself. Gone was the need for wise choices as she watched the balls of fire land around her and the cries uttered by what she assumed were Mordred’s men, the fairy clenching her fist before hurling a bolt of lightning herself when one caught up to them.

“The Queen has her magic?! You told me she was bound!” she heard Red call out as she barely avoided stumbling over a tree root.

“Oh cry me a river, Red, is that really what yer concerned about ‘ere?!” Lampwick called back.

“Can we not have this conversation right now?!” Malvina exclaimed as she looked for an out. Gods now would have been a brilliant time to use magic and get them out. There was a stumble and yelp behind them, Malvina coming to a halt and looking back. Her eyes widened on seeing the toddler on the floor and scrambling to her feet.

“Leave her. Mayhaps we’ll have better luck-”

But Malvina stopped listening to Taliesin on spying two of their attackers gaining on them. With a wave of her hand the fairy reappeared before the kid, grunting as she threw her hand out. A blinding white flash in front of the soldiers had them yelping and stumbling back, giving Malvina enough of an opening to scoop the toddler up and sprint away, catching up to Pierrot and the rest.

“Over there!”

She looked over at what her husband had called attention to, spotting the mouth of a cave. Malvina’s pace hastened to get there, her hold tightening on Bethan as she did so. The fairy stopped the moment she reached the mouth of the cave and watched as the rest ran in one by one, making sure no one was left behind. As soon as Malvina ran in, she heard the cave around her rumble. The last thing she saw was the queen with her hands raised, as the ceiling collapsed right before them and turned the world black.

— SUMMER, 1956 —

As Pierrot sewed the button onto his vest, his neck prickled with the familiar sensation of magic around him. It was something he had grown so accustomed to after all of the times Malvina would come visit him. It had become custom at this point. He couldn’t help but smile, his attention still on the vest as he heard the individual approach. He had been ready for either a greeting or tender hands to wrap around him in a soft embrace… but he was given neither, his attention welcomed by something else.

“Hello, Pierrot.” said the individual.

That… wasn’t Malvina. Their voice was an unfamiliar song to the bard’s ears.

He stilled in his work, head whipping around with his eyes wide, finding himself looking up at an individual he had yet to ever see.

Her hair was much darker, and pulled up into a bun. Her wings were like a dragonfly’s as they folded back but it was the blue dress that especially caught his attention. The skirt was wide yet short, puffed out around the bodice with streams of ribbons dangling down from it. It reminded him of the little dolls on music boxes— if he excluded the ribbons. The man smiled regardless as he put his work down and gave a little bow of his head in greeting.

“Hello, miss. Have we… met before? I apologise, but your face doesn’t-”

“No, we’ve not met. But I know you,” the fairy cut in with a smile. It wasn’t as soft as he knew Malvina’s to be. There was a certain… coldness to it. It wasn’t as warm and welcoming, it felt much more reserved, as though all emotion simply didn’t exist in this fairy. A huge opposite compared to his. “You’re Lorenzini’s accomplice. Providing musical ambience to his many shows.”

Oh my, she already knew of him! That was a first!

“Ah, that I am.” he nodded with a humble smile.

“And you had taken a great interest in befriending one of my fairies recently too.” The strange smile never left, even as Pierrot frowned.

“Who?”

“My dawn star.”

Her dawn star..?

His eyes widened as realisation sunk in. Her dawn star. This had to be Malvina’s mentor right? There was only one fairy that showed at the break of dawn like so that he was well acquainted with.

“Oh! Right, yes! We have definitely gotten very friendly.” he chuckled, albeit nervously. He wasn’t sure what it was that the fairy had come here to do, but last he remembered she shouldn’t know of them. How she found out about his, uh, friendship, he couldn’t say. Best to tread lightly.

Still her expression softened a touch, which brought a sense of relief to the boy as she spoke.

“A very sweet thing to do, dear boy.” her smile faded to a worried frown. “But also quite dangerous to her.”

Pierrot’s smile faded. “What?”

“Oh shame, she never shared the… complications your relationship may bring?” the fairy tilted her head a touch, looking curious even as the man slowly shook his head. “Her duty as a fairy godmother is a wonderful blessing on this world but it’s also incredibly important, and must not contain any distractions. Fairies falling in love can jeopardise their mission to grant wishes as well as bring children happiness. And that in and of itself is already a great loss, incomparable to the loss of their wings.”

Pierrot’s breath hitched. Lose her wings?

“What?!” Pierrot’s eyes widened, the fairy nodding gravely.

Would she really… could she lose her ability to be a fairy much less a fairy godmother if he stuck around?

“I’m sure you can understand.” The fairy explained, but the man’s attention was on the ground as he wondered.

Just how strong was this… Blue Fairy? That’s who this was, wasn’t it? She didn’t seem all too out of the ordinary, but he was no naive fool to the power he could feel radiating off of her. This one had more magic than he could ever consider. And the way she spoke made her seem much older and wiser as well. Whoever she was, she was for sure powerful and most even likely a higher up. Like a Queen in their kingdoms even. It was unnerving to be in the presence of such a creature, Pierrot feeling almost too humbled by it.

“Right.”

The fairy nodded as she shrunk back down once more. Pierrot looked up as she pressed a tiny hand under his chin and lifted it. “Love is a beautiful thing and I’d want nothing more than for you to cherish it, but this one is a very dangerous one to keep. Her future rests on your choices, my dear.” And she quickly fluttered away.

Pierrot let out a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding and stepped back. He wasted no time in turning around and sprinting down the path to the village, ignoring the protesting shouts as he moved onwards. He knew where he was going. Of course he did. He’d been to this particular region before a handful of times, the puppet show frequenting here quite often given how popular it was. And knowing that Mal was here too, the two having agreed to meet out back once the day had come to an end, made it all the more easier for him to find her.

He didn’t need to summon her at least. No, he simply had to make his way through, past “The Whispering Pear” and to where the woodcarver’s cottage lay. He quickly spotted Malvina talking to an older man just outside it and the bardling stepped back behind a building, staying well out of sight and listening around quietly.

There was no ringing around, so he hoped he was safe for now at least—that the mentor wouldn’t try and find a way to stop him from doing anything at all. His attention quickly drew to the conversation Mal was having with the woodcutter of the village. He recognised the guy even if he didn’t know him by name; the man being the one that had also provided Lorenzini with quality wood for his puppets. But he was quick to notice how distraught he looked, Malvina offering quiet comforting words to him as they spoke. Something about keeping an eye out for the woodcarver and his… son? Huh!

The moment the woodcutter stepped away and left, Pierrot ran forward, grabbing the fairy by the arm before she could pull her wand out.

“Mal!” he exclaimed, his hold still on her arm. She looked ready to hit him but recovered all too quickly as her expression relaxed. Still, her surprise was evident even as he let her go.

“What are you doing here-”

“She knows.”

Malvina blinked. “Sorry?”

“I don’t know how she found out but… your mentor came after me.” Pierrot explained, watching the fairy’s expression morph to horror.

“What?”

“I thought you said it was safe-”

“It should have been! Blue was away, and I’ve been careful. There was no way for her to find out about us.” Malvina exclaimed as she stepped back. He watched her brows crease upwards with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Pierrot hesitated, but sighed as his shoulders fell. There was no use denying it, he was sure she could see right through him anyway. Ever a man with his heart on his sleeve. “Is it true? If we stay like this, will it truly cost you everything?”

He watched the fairy’s eyes narrow, an anger he had not seen on her before clouding her features as she asked: “She said that, didn’t she?”

Pierrot hummed with a nod, Malvina scoffing loudly as she glared up at the sky, probably silently cursing the star that was interfering. But Pierrot couldn’t find himself to join her on that. No, his mind was still fixed on what the fae had said. Their love was dangerous. And that continuing on with it would cost his beloved everything…

“Be honest with me right now; How great would the cost be if we stuck together?” he asked softly, the fairy whipping around almost immediately.

“Far smaller than losing you!” Malvina exclaimed as she cupped his face. “I meant what I said that day so long ago, Pierrot. I don’t care for my wings and my title. If she wants to take them for simply being in love then so be it. I will not be held back just because someone wishes to stand in our way.”

Pierrot placed a hand over hers. “Are you sure of this?”

“More sure than I have ever been, my love.” Malvina ascertained softly, her hands still cupping his face oh-so gently as she smiled. “Let her come for me if she so desires. I am not letting go of you.”

Was he the fool for choosing to defy the words of the great fairy? Maybe. But as he looked at the swirling hues of turquoise that twinkled under pale lashes, Pierrot found himself unwilling to care. This woman… This incredible woman was so willing to give up everything to stay with him. Maybe it was selfish of him to sacrifice all that she was to stay at her side but… he was also a man unwilling to go against someone’s wishes. Would it be worse if he betrayed Malvina’s trust, or the one that wished to stand in their way?

With a quiet sigh he pressed his head against hers, feeling her relax against him as well. “If that is your wish… then I’ll stand with you.”

Until the very end.

— PRESENT —

Pierrot could hear his heart hammering in his chest as he caught his breath. The lack of light in the cavern he refused to move away from his spot. He felt someone jostle next to him, the bard grunting as he worked to stay upright.

“Did you trap us in here?!” He heard the red-head’s friend (Grace?) snap.

“If you’d like I’m more than willing to trap you out there!” The queen called back.

“At least over there there’s a less chance of being eaten by a cave bear!”

Pierrot groaned. Every moment, every conversation. Was it so hard to just be nice?! “Ladies!! Please!”

“Could we at least get some light if we’re going to be stuck here?” spoke up the knight from elsewhere.

In an instant, the cave was bathed in a gentle, blue glow. He looked to the woman whose hair it was coming from, noticing the way her hands shook under the weight of the toddler. Without a moment’s thought Pierrot moved to Malvina’s side, holding his arms out to take the child, propping her up on his left side, while offering his shoulder for the fairy to lean on; an act Malvina gratefully took.

Only once she was comfortably leaning against him did the bard look around. It was no extravagant cave; mostly limestone and rock all around. In the distance he heard water dripping down onto the cavern floors, the sound echoing throughout the tunnels.

“Where does the cave lead?” Henry asked with a frown.

“Maybe instead of asking questions we go and find out, huh?” Lampwick gruffed out as Pinocchio marched forward.

Pierrot and Malvina quickly fell in step behind him, keeping the glow in the centre of the group. He had soon let Beth hop down onto the floor, the girl fixing up the furs she was wearing while he returned his attention to his beloved, voicing his concerns quietly. She reassured his worries, through quiet murmurs and a smile. All would be fine, she was just tired.

“Well now that we’re someplace private;” Red started as she marched past the duo, and glared up at the woodcarver “You lied to me!”

Pierrot winced at the tone she had used, Pinocchio looking back guiltily.

“We had no choice-!”

“Yes you did!” she cut the woodcarver off with a glare. “You had the choice to be honest with me!”

“Oh because you’re the paragon of honesty, huh, Red?” Lampwick chipped in from behind.

“Gods it never ends…” he heard Malvina whisper next to him, the man kissing the top of her nose in sympathy.

He heard the kid whine close by, looking over and seeing the near pleading look she was giving the adults at the front. “Please stop-”

“What the hell are you talking about, Lampwick?” Red asked, her voice deafening the child’s comments as she looked back.

“Hm, lemme think: Talks of abandoned missions, duty, and that shit ain’t really like you unless you’re parroting someone else’s fucking words!” The man sneered, Pierrot hearing his musical companion scoff from elsewhere.

Oh gods, here we go.

“Perhaps because that’s exactly what she had been doing, after following the orders she was given by another.” Taliesin pointed out, Pierrot’s frown only deepening.

Red looked back, horrified. “What?!”

A huff from the queen. “Well looks like the cat’s out of the bag, dearie.”

“Don’t you start!” Red snapped at the queen before turning back to the bard. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Some people simply use their eyes and ears more than you would think, my dear. I overheard you and our dear knight here talking.” Taliesin explained nonchalantly, Pierrot spotting the aghast look on the prince’s face.

“Lancelot?!” Henry called out, Lancelot looking a touch guilty. But that was quickly overshadowed by Lampwick speaking up once more.

“And neither of you thought to let anyone else know?”

Taliesin let out a huff. “Well it hardly seems like you’d be willing to listen, good sir. Especially you.”

“Well don’t blame us, given most of your concern was on getting us to leave a damn toddler out in the woods.” Grace pointed out, Pierrot taking initiative to hide Bethan from view as the second bard glanced their way.

“Well if you listened, maybe the misfortune that has befallen us now wouldn’t happen.”

“Enough!” Pinocchio cried out, the cavern falling silent around them. “Arguing about this and throwing blame around won’t help anyone! No, we’re not leaving anyone behind and yes, you should have made mention of it regardless.”

“And sorry, Red, but given how much you’d been kissing it up to the fairy even during Snow White and David’s reign, I wasn’t about to take a chance of you snitching back to her.” Henry chipped in, his gaze still narrowed.

“I don’t do that!” The woman in question protested, making the prince sigh.

“Well it wasn’t worth the risk anyway. But suppose given we’re talking about Her,” he nodded towards the queen, “yes, she’s here and she’s got magic but she’s not this realm’s Evil Queen or… something.”

“Henry’s right. She’s a different one. And that’s why she was able to walk through the kingdom without issue.” Pinocchio added in.

The bard huffed. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t believe his oldest friend but the whole idea that there was another realm that carried individuals with their names was still rather baffling to him. One that was considered “Real”, while theirs was not—because their’s was a realm only born from the wish of a princess. Their experiences were different; because the curse here never happened. He was a believer in the grand scheme of things, but it was still a rather confusing concept to him. Much less that the queen never received her just desserts there and was simply… left to live among them. It was all very strange. But ah; such were the ways of life, he supposed.

Red, however, wasn’t as ready to let go of that as her eyes only narrowed up at the woodcarver. “How can there be more than one?! That makes no sense!”

Pinocchio sighed. “Nothing here makes sense, Red. This destiny, this gathering here, nothing makes any sense. But there’s no point in looking at that now cause we’re here and we’ve no choice but to be here. She’s got magic and we’re stuck with her until further notice. Maybe a foolish choice given everything, but it can’t be helped now.”

“You act like I’m some useless log to you, woodcarver.” The queen sniffed, Pierrot looking back and noting her offence.

“Cuz you haven’t done anything.” Lampwick deadpanned.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “I keep saying-”

“I don’t care what you’re saying!! You’ve shown zero good will or anything around here so why should anyone here believe ya or trust ya even still?!”

“Unlike you, right? With all your complaints and negativity, you’ve sure contributed a lot to the team. All your thoughtless planning and bitching, yeah that’s sure something.” the queen denounced.

Pierrot pursed his lips as he looked to the red-head, who simply turned around with a huff. No retort from his mouth this time around. While disliking the idea, however, he couldn’t help but agree with the sorceress. Lampwick had been the main instigator for a lot of their senseless bickering. He wouldn’t admit it outloud, knowing for sure that his woodcarving companion would find annoyance in such commentary. He remembered trying that once, when they were younger. The defence that Pinocchio had immediately jumped to at his judgement had taken him by surprise. Even back then, there was no individual that held a great deal of passion for the guy compared to Pinocchio’s. And sure enough, as soon as the queen’s words rang out, the brunette had turned around and fixed the queen with a look.

“Do you have to keep insulting my partner every time he says something to you? Because sorry to say this but I am in agreement with him. And it’s all from that example alone.” he explained.

The queen huffed. “Yet you let me lead us.”

“You’re right, I had. But that was because we really were out of options. But that doesn’t give you a free pass to have a go at those in this party either.”

“They’re both right.” Grace added. “You want respect? Show that you’ve earned it. You’re still an enemy to this land and there are many that would probably love to get their hands on you and take you down, if given the chance.”

“I still think we should have given her in to Blue.” Lampwick chimed in. He wasn’t sure if it was just the light cast around them but he swore the man seemed more tired than moments before. “Much as I would rather have not’ing t’do with that bitch.”

“And what would that have achieved?” Pinocchio quizzed, his soon-to-be simply huffing.

“We’d have peace and bloody quiet for one!”

“That’s true!” Grace nodded.

The woodcarver ran a tired hand down his face as he groaned. “Listen; we can look at that past all we want but like I said before, it doesn’t change the situation we’re in now. We’re wasting time and goodness knows how long this cave is.”

“It’d be good if we could get through without potentially getting lost.” Henry pointed out.

“Well perhaps I could help with that.” Red suggested, giving a shrug as the rest glanced over. “I’m fast, I'd be back in a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t consider that wise. Given you have already been going behind our backs.” Taliesin pointed out, the woman rolling her eyes at him.

Pierrot heard a small gasp, the bard looking down as Bethan moved forwards, eyes aglow with mirth. “Maybe I could help?” she asked, looking up hopefully. It was enough to make even the bard wish to cave.

Pinocchio seemed hesitant on his answer as well, until he grimaced. “Kid-”

“Absolutely not!” Taliesin interjected once more, glaring down at Bethan who was quick to recoil. “If that accursed wretch intervenes, we will surely all be doomed to fail!”

“Can you hold your tongue for five minutes?” The Queen retorted as she shot the bard a glare. “You’re starting to sound like a broken radio.”

Pinocchio hummed, brows creasing upwards in sympathy as he looked at the toddler. Perhaps even pity. “Bee, I… have to agree that that’s not a good idea. Not with the doom stuff but… I’d rather an adult do this. It could be dangerous.”

Beth’s eyes widened. Gone was the smile now and her shoulders fell as well. “Bu’ I can do it!! I’ve been in a cave before, I can do it!”

“That’s great and all, but maybe let someone else take care of this so we all can get back in one piece, yeah?” Grace chipped in, looking pitifully down at the child as well.

The girl’s reaction wasn’t immediate; Pierrot watching how Bethan’s face fell even more and her shoulders tense. He braced himself, feeling Malvina stiffen as well, as a scowl scrunched up the girl’s face. He was ready for the loud screaming of an upset child, but much to their relief, she only stepped away and moved to the back of the group instead, not a peep to be heard.

Malvina seemed uncertain but the expression quickly vanished as she turned to Pinocchio and dropped a hand on his shoulders. The woodcarver had deflated the moment the girl had stalked off, Pierrot noting the guilty look on his face.

“Let me go and take a look instead.” Malvina suggested, the man letting out a sigh as he nodded.

“Okay. Be careful though.”

Pierrot watched as Malvina took a deep breath and stepped away from him, taking a few careful steps before picking up the pace. As she walked away, the light faded with her, soon replaced by a warm flame that the queen had conjured up.

‘Well, no use standing around,’ Pierrot thought as he leaned against the wall and watched the rest settle down too. He watched curiously as the woodcarver’s fiancé approached Pinocchio giving the man and Grace a quick shake.

“Can we talk?” he heard the man ask, looking tiredly between both of them. “In private.”

With a nod, and a lamp pulled out of one of the bags, the three of them disappeared into one of the tunnels, Pierrot watching on curiously. Wonder what that was all about…

— SUMMER, 1956 —

The moment he felt the air tingle he knew magic was settling down behind him. And not just any sort of magic; It was fairy magic. But hearing the lack of laughter or call of his name he knew it wasn’t her this time. The evening was approaching on the horizon as the man sat by and tuned his lute, his back still turned to the individual as he heard the twinkling coming closer.

Pierrot looked behind, seeing the lady from the morning approach, still wearing the strange looking blue dress like before. He smiled, albeit a little forcefully, as he placed his lute down and stood up, giving the lady a bow. “Ah, good evening, miss.”

“Good evening to you as well, Pierrot.” The fairy nodded her head in greeting. “I was wondering if you’ve seen my fairy anywhere.”

His smile grew. He was not one to feel any particular poisonous emotion, but the conversation he had with The Blue Fairy hours before remained fresh on his mind even now; boiling the blood in his veins as he thought about it. “Nope! I have not,” he shook his head.

He watched her shoulders relax right before he turned back and picked his lute up once more.

“I see you made your choice?” she asked, the bard giving a nod.

“Yes. Yes, I have. And so has she as I’m sure she planned to tell you once she was done with her duty for the day.” The young adult frowned a touch as he turned back around. “And that choice is I don’t wish to let go of the love that I’ve at last found, and I know is returned to me in kind.”

As he spoke, he watched the blue fairy’s smile melt away, expression stony and even a touch annoyed.

“Do you understand the cost your actions will bring?” she asked, her tone carried a cold sharpness to it now.

“I am. And my dearest is aware of them as well. I wouldn’t be making the choice I am making right now without her knowledge nor consent,” he replied confidently, feeling a hint of satisfaction at how taken aback the fairy seemed. “And with that thought in mind, I stand at her side.”

The Blue Fairy hummed, her wings folding against her back as she stepped onto the ground, her wand held at her side. He couldn’t help but feel even a bit hopeful, despite the lack of any expression the fae seemed to show. He couldn’t quite parcel out what she was feeling but he hoped that she would at least be understanding. Perhaps even forgiving. That’s what fairies were supposed to be like, weren’t they?

But then she looked up once more, her face morose as she spoke with a strange sympathy to her raised gaze. “I understand that what you feel may seem right for now, but those emotions will eventually turn fleeting. For her as well. You’re both very young still and these feelings are new and maybe even exciting. But such ones like these are prohibited among our godmothers. She wished to become a fairy godmother and that is part of the deal. My dawn star is young but the brightest stars among my fairies, and I’d hate for her to lose that to feelings she cannot quite understand. Much less for you to lose any chance at becoming the star you so wish to be.”

“Perhaps she could even help you grant this wish, but not if you continue to pursue this.” she continued, Pierrot’s eyes widening as Blue nodded her head gravely. “The cost will be great and it will even result in her losing her right as a fairy. I cannot stop you, but understand that this is the fate your actions may lead her to.”

So this really was the price for their love..? He had thought Malvina’s words were a mere… exaggeration at the time. Not as a means of doubt but he still found it quite hard to believe a fairy, creatures known to spread joy and love wherever they go, would punish one of their own like that. It sounded wrong. It was wrong. A part of him now considered going back and pulling away from the woman he had come to love over the year they’ve known each other.

But then he remembered what it was that Malvina said; ‘I will not be held back just because someone wishes to stand in our way.’ Her eyes, her beautiful ocean-like eyes, were filled with a burning passion he could never resist. I will not be held back, are the words she said and he knew she meant every last one of them.

So who was he to go against her wishes? Who was he to cower while she pushed onwards? He was a man that had dreams he wished to achieve; some possible and some maybe less, but he wasn’t about to give up on them for their mere obstacles! If she was willing to stand up for what they had… then so would he.

“My feelings come above all else when it comes to my job. I am not a bard if it wasn’t for my heart. Music and tales are, of course, how I express those feelings within.” He explained, finally looking up once more. He knew the fire in his gaze was nothing compared to that of his beloved, but he was willing to fight for their love the same way she was. He stepped forward with a smile on his face. “If she wishes to stay at my side, then I will not push her away, no matter what may come. Her life is her life. I will not take her chances to make the choice to love if she wishes to experience them.”

There was no applause following his words like there would be for a hero on the stage. No thrill of a grand performance. There was nothing but the silence of a dying day. He didn’t feel any grand victory as the Blue fairy’s expression remained unchanging while she stared him down. He felt nothing; nothing but the hammering of his warming heart.

She hummed as she looked around and tapped her wand against her other hand. “Well, if push must come to shove.” she sighed, the boy’s blood running cold.

“What?”

Her gaze burned like ice as it returned to him, the fairy speaking with finality. “I’m sorry, Pierrot. While I know there’s good in your heart, I cannot allow it to grow alongside hers and force her to lose all she achieved.”

“No-!” His exclamation is cut back as he chokes, feeling his body seize up. He clutched his chest, feeling it tighten as his knees gave way. He wasn’t sure what this was! Was he dying? Did fairies kill when they saw fit?!

“Mal—” he wheezed, as his sight blurred and fizzled out to darkness, the boy feeling himself fall and consciousness leaving him. It felt like he was sinking into water, drowning as it filled his lungs. But like waking from a terrible nightmare, his eyes shot wide open as he sat up with a gasp.

“Malvina?!” he panted and looked around, realising that he was inside some room rather than on the ground still.

“Hey, you doing alright, youngster?”

The boy’s head whipped around at the gentle voice and his shoulders stiffened. Sitting before him was a handsome young man with long, curly, black hair. His eyes were grey—an interesting colour— and brows knitted upwards with concern. He wore a red jacket, looking almost like a toy soldier brought to life if it weren’t for the lack of wood.

Pierrot breathed out, “Who are you?”

The man’s frown grew as he leaned closer. “You don’t remember?” Pierrot pulled back, the stranger pausing only until he settled to rest a hand to his forehead and turned the boy’s head. The bardling realised all too quickly that he had a bandage around his head. H-how long had he been out for?!

“How hard did you hit your head, Romeo?”

Pierrot recoiled. “Whoa whoa, Romeo?! I’m not-”

“Artemon!” a voice from afar called out.

It sounded strangely familiar but also not so much the same. He was sure it was Lorenzini, until-

“He’s awake, Mstislav.” The stranger called back, Pierrot’s eyes widening. Mstislav?! Oh gods. Oh dear gods, where had she sent him?! This was not his master-

A man, large and round in the face stormed into the room, his dark beard nearly trailing down to his feet. He looked eerily similar to his old master had it not been for the less colourful clothing that he was wearing. Were they perhaps related?! He couldn’t say for sure but the resemblance was uncanny!

“About time. Now up with you!”

Pierrot stiffened. “Up? Where? What? Who are-”

His stuttering was met with laughter. “Listen to him babble like a toddling fool.”

“I don’t even know you!” Pierrot exclaimed, hoping that maybe the man would at least be somewhat merciful.

“Perhaps he had hit his head a little too hard. Seems he’s forgetting stuff now. Or thinks he can play dumb.” The bleary man’s frown deepened as he roughly grabbed Pierrot’s shoulder and pulled him out of the bed, the bard falling to his knees with a yelp. “Up!! There’s a show to run. I won't have any slacking around here.”

The boy remained where he lay with his head bowed to the floor, even as the master took his leave. His shoulders shook as he heaved in a breath. How could this have happened? How could he have so foolishly expected the consequences of loving to be not as great as they were? Here he sat now, an unknown man in an unknown world with no hope of finding his way back. And Malvina, his dear Malvina, was she even okay? Would the fairy come for her as well…? Did they doom each other in their attempts to not let the other go?

Stuck in his silent wallowing, he didn’t hear Artemon gingerly crouch down, looking up only once he heard a cane fall to the floor. A tentative hand cupped the bard’s shoulders, as the man helped him back up onto his feet, Pierrot seeing nothing but gentle sympathy in his gaze.

“The costumers are ready for you. Best do as he says, Romeo.” Artemon explained as he nodded to the door, the bard giving a quiet sniff as he walked out. Guess his name is another thing he’ll have to let go of now…

— PRESENT —

The moment she had found herself out of sight, the fairy had collapsed against the stone wall, panting and letting the light from her hair dim away. Gods, that had been a lot. It didn’t take her long to slide down to the floor, Malvina breathing in deeply as she looked into the dark. She pressed her hand into the dirt, watching the faint blue trail snake away down the tunnels.

No longer being a fairy meant there were limits to her magic now; the lacking of wings and ability to shrink for one. Dreamwalking was another but that one was hardly ever necessary anyway. Pathfinding was no simple spell, but it was one that was accessible to anyone and not just fairies. The specifications could change but it wasn’t anything too extreme.

So Malvina curled her fingers into the palm of her hand as she closed her eyes, The world shifting from pitch black to silhouettes bathed in pale blue. She watched the path weave through the cave, going left, right and centre. Perhaps she could have done this next to the rest, but she was willing to take any chance she got to get away from the chaos even for a moment. She wasn’t one for lying often but just this once she’d let it slide. Every shout and angry tone had used up the last of her energy, and she was just glad to get a moment of peace when she could. The path soon reached what looked to be the end, a silhouette of trees—embraced by her magic’s blue light—just outside of the opening. Her eyes shot wide open and Malvina took another deep breath, before clambering to her feet and marching back the way she came.

Coming back to the group she was surprised by the lack of any sound at all. Pinocchio was sitting with his companion, the carver’s head on Lampwick’s shoulder and Henry shuffling next to them. Pierrot and Taliesin were whispering amongst each other while Red and Lancelot sat by. Grace and the red-head’s companion were sitting together, Iskra’s head in the woman’s lap as she petted her and at their feet sat the woodcarver’s cat. Bethan was sitting off on her own, fiddling with a stone she most likely had found on the floor, the toy that Pinocchio had made her discarded on the ground close by. It was she that spotted her first, but said nothing. Pierrot was next, who called attention to her presence immediately. As the rest picked themselves off of the ground, Mal moved to where the toddler was, holding her arms out as an invitation to be picked up. But Bethan only scowled up at her and stood up, marching past without another word. The fairy sighed as she watched on, her worries melting away the moment Pierrot reached for her hand.

Without haste, the group set out again, Malvina leading down the invisible path she had discovered until they weaved out of the tunnels and into the break of evening light.

“Gods, it’s good to be out of there.” Grace breathed out, Malvina nodding in agreement.

“Good. Now it’s time to turn back and go home.”

Malvina’s smile faded as the call echoed amongst them. The sky above them was still growing purple, colours of orange, pink and periwinkle still working on shifting their hues. Laying on top of it was the crescent moon, still waning in growth, was very pale. Yet one star shone brightly next to it, looking almost blue in contrast to the rest of the sky’s colours. The star of blue seemed to grow larger, as the light from it descended to the forest floor. The glow expanded, revealing the shape of a human before fading entirely.

Reul Ghorm shook her wings out and folded them, her mouth pursed in a thin line and her eyes narrowed as she stood before them. Of course it would have only been a matter of time before she showed up…

“H-how did you-” Grace started, but was cut off by the Blue fairy’s reply.

“I have my ways. Now you have some explaining to do. What were you doing down there?”

Pinocchio stepped forward. “Blue, I can explain-”

“Really? You can explain this whole get together you have here? Because I think it’s quite clear what you’re doing and I’m frankly very disappointed, Pinocchio.” The Blue fairy condemned, Malvina’s eyes narrowing. She watched the woodcarver stiffen under the woman’s unrelenting gaze. “You all disappear without a trace for days during such a dire time for what exactly? I know this is a difficult thing I asked of you but I had hoped that just once you’ll keep in mind the lessons I had taught you.”

“Listen here-!” Lampwick sneered.

“You’ve also been hiding the queen, as the many townsfolk had claimed. So not only did you betray my trust but you also lied to me? I thought we were past this.” The blue fairy continued as though the man had hardly spoken, Malvina’s gaze flicking between her old mentor and the man she was talking to.

Pinocchio’s hands were balled into tight fists until his knuckles had turned as white as his face right now. His gaze flickered between Blue and his background, floundering for an explanation he didn’t seem to have, all the while the fairy stood on and watched patiently, waiting for the answer Malvina was sure she’d disapprove of. As she always would. There was nothing more that Mal wanted right now than to grab the man’s hand and get him far away from her. But she knew right now that she’d still find them again anyway…

She heard a loud scoff from behind, Malvina looking over at the ex-queen of Hochwasser as she fixed Reul Ghorm with a judgemental glance.

“And which monarch died and made you suddenly the queen, fairy?”

Blue’s eyes narrowed. “Are you really asking that? After murdering King David and Queen Snow-White in cold blood only months ago?”

“That wasn’t me-”

“And Red! I’m frankly appalled, I expected better out of you as Snow’s confidant.” Blue exclaimed, Malvina withholding the desire to drag a hand down her face. “You know how urgent the situation was so why did you never send me any sort of information at all?”

“So you really were snitching on us!” Henry called out from behind.

“I did tell you.” Taliesin muttered from Mal’s right.

“And you helped her on that too!!” Lampwick added, as he looked to the prince’s knight.

And here comes the uproar. Malvina closed her eyes, silently counting to ten as the arguing persisted.

“I was only giving her vague information, nothing specific, to settle the dust. And ensure that Blue knew not to panic.” Lancelot explained.

“Yet she’s here!”

“Because nothing came through.” Blue pointed out.

“But I sent it! Lupi was supposed to reach you!” Red protested with her brows furrowed.

“So you don’t deny it!” Lampwick sneered.

“No, I fucking don’t!” Red snapped back with a glare. “Cause unlike some people, I don’t go out of my way to turn my back on those that need me-”

“And who’s doing that here, huh?! Which person in this entire group gave you the impression that they’re abandoning their cause!”

“Beats me if none of you are bothering to be honest with me!”

Pierrot groaned next to Malvina, who was starting to wonder if counting to ten ten times would suffice- “Cut it out you two-”

“Well look where honesty got us, huh?! Seems your fairy mail wound up in the wrong ruddy hands, Hood!” Lampwick continued as he ground his teeth together.

“What are you talking about?!” Blue cut in, but the red-head only jeered at her.

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know!”

“We were unfortunately ambushed, the prince almost abducted.” Taliesin chipped in, the former fairy gaping at his words.

She heard her lover curse next to her as the clearing fell silent, Malvina spying the horror on the Reul Ghorm’s face growing.

“Oh yes, let’s just tell her everything she doesn’t need to know cause that’s going to help everyone!” The queen deadpanned, as Reul Ghorm wheeled around and turned back to Pinocchio once more.

“You did what?!” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing angrily.

As fast as a flash of light, Lampwick had pulled Pinocchio behind him, looming over the blue fairy with unhidden animosity. “Do not put this on him, fairy!”

“This is why you guys should have listened! Instead of wandering off on your own and leaving behind what plan we’ve already settled on! We could have already taken care of this whole ordeal!” The blue fairy cried out, staring up at the red-head with annoyance, her wings flared out.

“And what?! Get your precious saviour killed in the process?!” the man challenged, Blue having the gall to scoff.

“Sometimes a sacrifice is necessary, he would die a hero!”

Malvina’s fists tightened as she listened, watching the careful blankness wash over Pinocchio’s pale face. An expression perfected with time and practice, to hide whatever it was he was feeling within. Anger? Hurt? Who knew… All Malvina was sure of was that he really was just an extra component to that fairy and it angered her beyond belief. She had counted up to two hundred by now, but the burning in her chest had yet to ease away as the prince called out from the back:

“Well I don’t want him to die like one! And neither does anyone here!”

Blue’s expression softened to that of pity as the prince approached. “Henry, dear, sometimes what we want is different from what needs to be done-”

“No!” Henry violently shook his head, “I’ve had enough of you bossing me around and running my kingdom for me! I won’t have you sacrificing those I still have around for whatever destiny there is when there could be another way to take care of it!”

“Tell her, kid!” Lampwick cheered on, even when his fiancé willed him to stop.

Malvina listened to the bickering continue around her, the endless string of voices and yelling loud in her head. It was loud in her chest. It was one of the few things that would upset her. It burned deep within her like never before.

Endless.

The fighting was endless. She could take senseless bickering in small increments but this had gone far enough that it felt like each accusation and bitter word would be the one that would cause her knees to finally buckle.

Yet she remained rooted to her spot as though she were frozen in stone, eyes shutting as she covered her ears. She could hear the blood rushing to them like this. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest and her whole body felt like it was on fire. The discord faded to a distant echo in the back of her head.

This needed to stop.

They. Needed. To Stop!

“Malvina-” She didn’t even bother to find out who’s voice echoed by and the hand had tried to to take hers as she chucked it back, her eyes opening as she glanced down at it and seeing how bright it glowed. She let out another breath, her hands curling tightly into fists as she felt magic pulse through her entire being.

“Zvezda-”

She heard the warning tone from the woman she called her superior decades ago. Of course, that woman would know what was going on right now. She’d have seen it a hundred times over by now.

But even back then she deigned to listen to the woman, so why would that change all of a sudden?

The air burst around Malvina like a newborn star, the sudden pulse of energy throwing everyone in the group to the ground. The only one left standing was her; Malvina’s hair still gleaming angrily along with her skin as she glared at each person that lay on the floor. Her gaze spared no one.

“Consider this your final warning! You will listen and let me talk before I make it bright enough that the after image lingers!” The woman exclaimed, teeth grounded together.

“This is unacceptable-”

“I’ll tell YOU what’s unacceptable here, Reul Ghorm!” Malvina cut the fairy off sharply as she looked down at her with a glare. “How dare you show up here, laying out your assumptions and giving no one a chance to explain! And you wonder why no one even bothered to give you the details if this is how you chose to behave.” she chided. “You request an explanation yet don’t even wait for someone to hand it to you! If you gave Pinocchio even a moment to get a word in you’d know the truth! Or are you so hell-bent on your own fantasies that you refuse to see it!?”

“All I request is your honesty!” Blue exclaimed.

“Then give us the chance to give it to you without jumping to your own conclusions!” Malvina shot back and ground her teeth together.

Her arms and face felt hot. She knew it had something to do with her magic, given how much Blue was squinting up at her. Yet the former fairy didn’t relent as she continued; “You wanted the truth? Well here it is! We’re on our way to end it all! At the source of the problem! There will be no fights on Rose’s land. There will be no sacrificing a hero because he holds the sword. We intend to free Merlin and find a way to end this whole charade with as little bloodshed as possible! Including Pinocchio’s!”

She took a deep breath and stepped back, counting down yet another set of ten and letting the glow that had surrounded her fade away. She looked back at the group, most everyone already picked off of the ground, until she spotted Pinocchio. Seeing him unhurt had her turning back to the fairy once more.

Malvina straightened up and met the Blue Fairy’s gaze levelly. “You can’t stop us, Blue. We’re going to Camelot, and that’s that! You either stand with us or against us. But step the fuck out of our way or I’ll make you do so myself!”

— SUMMER, 1956 —

The sunset came and went, yet when she looked down from her cloud cover, there was no one standing by the birch tree below. She considered that maybe his master had other plans for the evening and he didn’t get to tell her? That seemed plausible for sure. But that was a rarity. And if that happened he’d have let her know somehow. The last person that would ever leave her without an explanation on anything was Pierrot. It was one of the many things she liked about him. Along with his singing, and beauty, and kindness and joy- oh! She couldn’t help but flutter her wings with excitement as she waited.

“Good evening, Reul na Maidne. What are you doing out here?” Zvezda hastily looked behind her on hearing the voice speak from behind.

Standing on the cloud next to her was her own mentor and watching her curiously. The fairy couldn’t help but feel a touch panicked. Reul Ghorm was supposed to be away, why was she suddenly here?

Still, she straightened up as she turned to face her, schooling her expression to a peaceful smile. “I could ask the same of you, Reul Ghorm. To what do I owe this sudden visit? I thought you were training with young Green tonight.”

“I was, but there was a matter that came up and was a lot more urgent.” Blue explained, her own smile starting to waver.

“Like what?”

“I think you know what.” The fairy stated, Zvezda’s eyes narrowing as she looked back to the tree once more. He still wasn’t here. And she was starting to think that maybe the other fairy had something to do with it.

“He’s not coming, Zvezda.”

Zvezda glared up at her. “What the hell did you do?” she asked, shaking with anger.

“Calm yourself, I only spoke with him-”

“What did you do?! Why?!” the turquoise-haired fairy demanded as she stood up, glaring at the fairy before her.

Blue only looked on sympathetically. “I did not do anything. I merely spoke to him and he chose to leave. Sadly, it would seem that meant without talking to you about it.”

“Yes, because that’s believable!” Zvezda’s wings flared out as she glared at the older fairy. “Don’t lie to me, you sent him away yourself!” she spat, shoulders rigid as the area seemed just a little brighter all of a sudden. But she was quick to realise that the one making it so was she herself. Reul Ghorm’s eyes narrowed.

“Control your emotions, Zvezda! You won’t speak to your superior like this!” The Blue Fairy stated, wings flaring out as well.

“Why are you even meddling with this at all? What’s the problem with my choice here, why can’t I be free to love him?” Zvezda continued to shout, ignoring the warning she had received.

“Because fairies aren’t supposed to love-”

“WHY?! You keep saying that but why can’t we feel love, why aren’t we supposed to?!”

“Your duty comes before all else Zvezda-”

“And what? Have I forsaken that? Have I neglected anything at all throughout this whole year, Blue?!”

“You of all people should know the rules, my child. Continue to act foolishly and you know I’ll have no choice but to act on them.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re so looking forward to enacting such a punishment on me!” The fairy beseeched, ignoring the hurt that flashed across the other’s gaze. “You haven’t answered my question! Why?! Why is it so bad that I love him?” But her words were met with silence. “Answer me, Reul Ghorm!!”

Blue’s gaze remained cold, only a sigh leaving her before she responded; “It won’t last.”

“Because you said so, right?” Zvezda scoffed, the older fae remaining silent. “You don’t know that! You’ve never even met him, you haven’t even given it a chance!”

Blue’s eyes narrowed. “You are a fairy godmother. You’re among my brightest stars that shine even in the daylight. You are supposed to be dedicated to the cause you serve above all else. This is hardly something one should question. Understand that this is only for your own good.”

Zvezda could only laugh and shake her head. The nerve of this woman. “No. No, it’s not. In the past I might have believed you but not anymore. You’ve always been against my choice of actions, always! Reading about humanity was wrong; trying to be close to my charges and help them when they needed it was wrong. Trying to teach that young puppet you created so he stood a better chance of upholding your insane requests was a wrong choice too! Everything I do is wrong to you! I don’t care for it any longer! I’ve made my choice and I refuse to let go of him.”

Gone was the cold mask, giving way to unhidden irritation as Reul Ghorm straightened up. “Enough with this foolishness, Zvezda. Consider this my final warning. I really don’t wish to do what I will be forced to do if you keep going down this path.”

“I’m done caring, Blue. I know he loves me, more than you could try and convince me otherwise.” Zvezda scoffed, defiant even now as the Blue fairy’s face fell, looking almost regretful.

“Then know it will lead to downfall for you both.” With a wave of her wand Zvezda felt her breath leave her lungs, as the cloud gave way beneath her and she plummeted towards the earth. Her drop was halted before she could hit the ground, a peach-coloured aura surrounding her and gently setting her down on the grass.

Zvezda felt… strangely heavier. And empty. Like something was missing. Her hand reached for her back, but she felt nothing there anymore. Her breath hitched as she worked to look behind, seeing the wings that should be there now gone. How did she-

She glanced up, seeing the tiny fairy that was still watching her with concern. The peach glow that surrounded her and her pink dress was one she recognised on the ginger-haired fairy, Zvezda’s shoulders falling.

“Sugar Plum…?” she murmured.

The fairy seemed to hesitate, looking out after the fae that had already left then back down at the woman, her expression scrunched up with upset as she bowed her head. “I’m so sorry.”

Without another word she flitted away, leaving the now fallen fae on the ground. Zvezda watched on… wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she glanced around. The noises of the world seemed a lot louder and less pleasant now that she was grounded. And the lack of her companion, whom she wondered if he was even alright, made it so much worse...

— PRESENT —

The silence dragged on after Malvina’s proclamation, the two fairies still staring one another down. Since then, the rest had managed to get back to their feet again, Lampwick still sticking rather close as he beadily eyed the blue fairy. He couldn’t blame him too much, feeling a little of the tension she had brought forth.

But who else could he blame for it but himself?

Maybe he should have been honest with her back then… but there was no telling what would have happened if they did. He never enjoyed going against the fairy’s wishes, no matter how unpleasant were the requests she might have had. He knew what it was like to defy those requests; there were still nights where the rope around his neck would haunt him even now, pulling taught around it and leaving him breathless. Or the lashing of the ringmaster’s whip… His actions had consequences; whether for himself or others, and it was simply wiser to just listen rather than act out on his own. He wasn’t sure what this choice would bring about and while he didn’t speak and showed no signs of distress, Pinocchio still carefully reached around and grabbed for his fiancé’s hand, subconsciously squeezing it tightly as he waited for the inevitable.

Blue watched on, Pinocchio soon finding her looking at him. But her anger dissolved into resignation with a deep sigh.

“If this is your choice, then so be it.”

Pinocchio let out a shaking breath at the fairy’s conclusion; a weight off his shoulders.

“I don’t appreciate that you guys went off course. Much less without discussing it with the rest of us. Frankly I’m still quite disappointed that you went off on your own like this and even lied to me, Pinocchio,” The Blue fairy eyed him in particular, the woodcarver trying with all his might to not drop his gaze to the floor like a scolded child. His grip tightened on Lampwick’s hand once more. “However-”

“Spare us the guilt talk, Blue!” Lampwick spat from next to him, Pinocchio feeling at least a touch of relief to hear him speak up again.

The Blue Fairy was anything but, though, as she looked behind the man, unimpressed. “However, if I may finish, Romeo, while I don’t think your plan is wise, I will accept it. Maybe if you were to get Merlin out we could sort this mess out easier.”

“Wise, my ass,” Pinocchio heard Lampwick scoff under his breath before speaking up, “because using your chosen one as canon fodder was wise, huh?”

“It’s not a pleasant idea, I know, but it was our best chance of getting out of this situation with as little casualties as possible.” Blue explained, making the red-head scoff loudly once more.

There was something about the way she spoke and what she said that Pinocchio couldn’t help but feel upset about. Angry was too strong a word for the sinking feeling in his stomach right now. No, it was something else. He cared about the Blue Fairy, truly he did, he knew she meant well with her choices. She was looking out for the whole kingdom, so it was well within reason that the ideas that she may have wouldn’t satisfy everyone. And yet— he couldn’t help but feel betrayed almost. Like he was so easy to cast out when the time felt right for it. So easily disposable…

He remained quiet, his expression placid and emotionless. He knew feelings of any sort weren’t worth showing here. They wouldn’t help him right now anyway.

“Well, let’s try and sort this mess out with no casualties then, huh? Instead of sacrificing one person, the result may not even be what you desire it to be.” Malvina chimed in. Though her tone was level there was a little force to it. Pinocchio blinked over at her, seeing the glare and too wide smile that the former fairy fixed his godmother with. Her posture was tense and gaze unblinking, almost as though she was daring Blue to say anything otherwise to their choices. Blue stood unflinching as she looked between the two with nothing but a shake of her head.

“I see there’s no convincing any of you to turn back and reconsider.” Blue sighed, “Pinocchio—”

The man looked over.

“I only hope you know what you’re doing. We cannot afford anything going wrong right now. The dawn of the final day is slowly approaching. If we don’t get Merlin, if we fall to Mordred, the realm as we know it will no longer remain.” She was gone in a blink of an eye once she had finished speaking.

Awkward silence was all she left in her wake.

“No fucking pressure of course!”

Pinocchio heard Lampwick call out, but his attention was still clinging to her words. Because that was it, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like he didn’t already feel the pressure. It was as heavy as the sword at his belt. The fate of the whole kingdom rested on his- on their shoulders; one mishap and it would all come crashing down. They could lose their homes, families, everything.

One little mistake…

It could take one little mistake and they were all done for…

“Hey, pay her no mind.”

Pinocchio whipped around on feeling someone shake his shoulder, warm brown eyes staring back at him below dark hair. Lancelot kept his hand on the man’s shoulder, giving him a small grin.

“We’ve got this handled! Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks.” Henry chimed in.

“Jus’ say the word, Prokopiy. We’ll go wherever you go.” Malvina called out, Pinocchio looking over. Gone was the tension, Malvina—though still looking rather exhausted—was smiling gently up at him once more. Her words and gaze were just enough to ease his mind almost entirely, the man returning the grin in kind as he nodded to her.

“So long as it’s forward cause personally, I don’t fancy going back there again.” The Queen huffed, Pinocchio looking over with a grimace as she spoke.

“Shut up, this isn’t about you or what you want, Queenie!” Graced called from the back.

“Well, I don’t fancy going back either.” Pinocchio commented quickly, hearing the prince scoff.

“Good, because me neither.”Henry warily looked around. “Does anyone know where we are right now?”

“We’re-”

“We’re nearing the forbidden forest from the looks of it.” Lancelot spoke up, Pinocchio just barely catching the start of the toddler’s words before they were interrupted.

“Oh? Finally figured out how to track back to Camelot again, sir knight?” Pinocchio heard Red tease, the knight chuckling.

“More like I remember going by here often. We’ll need to be careful.” Lancelot warned, as he took a step forward.

“Don’t need to be told twice.” Red huffed, as she and the rest followed the knight onward.

Pinocchio watched quietly, his hand carefully reaching for the sword and readjusting it on his belt with a grin. Pierrot and Malvina were walking together again, the latter laying her weight on the bard as they did so, with Henry, Lancelot and Red taking up the front. Taliesin clung to the back of the group with the queen off to the side. Pinocchio sighed as he looked back behind him, seeing the little toddler with her gaze dropped to the floor still standing around.

“Beth? Come on!” The woodcarver urged with a smile, but the smile quickly faded on seeing the glare the girl shot him. Pinocchio froze, his eyes wide as she stalked past.

He stood by in silent astonishment, watching as the kid transfigured into a dog once more and stuck to the far side of the whole group. Was she still upset about the cave? He didn’t think it was something really worth getting upset about for so long. But he supposed he never really had the pleasure of experiencing the mind of a four year old so maybe… that was something she’d be holding onto at that age…? He’d have to ask Mal, really. He was so distracted that he almost jumped on feeling something brush up to his legs.

Pinocchio looked down at the cat next to him, who mrrowed amidst the purring. He dropped down, picking the long-haired feline up as he moved to follow after the rest of the group. But stopped and looked back, seeing his lover hanging by the cave still. His eyes were narrowed and his pipe was once again lit as he stared wearily at the mouth of it, Iskra standing close by next to him. Since the fairy left he had barely said anything. Frankly, even before her arrival he had been unusually quiet. He had figured that after the talk in the cave it’ll be fine but he supposed a sour mood was hard to lift. His assumption further confirmed by the droopy-eared look Iskra was still giving him.

“Lampwick?” he called out, the red-head turning lazily to look at him. Pinocchio, adjusting Figaro in one arm, held out his other to him, Lampwick frowning as he took it. With a cheeky smirk, the woodcarver snatched the opportunity as his betrothed breathed the smoke out to pull him even closer. The man barely stopped himself from crashing into the woodcarver but Pinocchio couldn’t care less, as he stood up on his tip-toes and, with his arm against the other’s chest so they didn’t squish the cat, pressed his lips against Lampwick’s. The taste of smoke hit him like an ocean wave, but he found himself closing his eyes and relishing in the moment regardless, ignoring the stench that had engulfed the taller man.

“G’nna force the public kiss on me now, ‘uh?” Lampwick muttered, eyes opening slowly as they pulled apart.

“Can’t really call it ‘public’ if nobody is here.” Pinocchio smirked, feeling his cat struggle in his arms until Figaro freed himself from the hold, though didn’t distance himself. The woodcarver watched as Lampwick’s expression softened, a gentle yet small smile resting on his features. Lampwick shook his head with a light huff, but was stopped in his attempt to take another drag from the pipe as Pinocchio stood up and rested his forehead against his, the woodcarver feeling the other relax almost instantly.

“Should get goin’ b’fore we lose ‘em.” he heard Lampwick whisper, Pinocchio nodding silently and pulling back with one final peck to the man’s pointed nose. With a hand still on his he led them forward, Pinocchio only glancing back to see Iskra trotting behind with Figaro on her back once more. He smiled as they caught up to the rest.

Free Merlin, end the war, and get all of them back in one piece. That was their goal for this whole quest.

He only hoped they could fulfil it.

The glee on the king’s face was hard to hide as he watched the image on the crystal carefully, the words filtering in. He heard the footsteps behind him but his focus was entirely on the man with the sword strapped to his side, sitting between the red-head and the dark-skinned bard. The woodcarver lay with his head on the red-head’s shoulder and a hand over the sword, as the bard played and sang loudly for his gathered audience.

“What’s got you smiling, brother?” Mordred heard Agravain ask as he smirked. “Has she finally gotten back to you?”

“Seems the last piece of the puzzle is returning home.” The king explained and looked up.

Galehaut, with his mouth pursed in a placid frown, looked on, hand permanently strapped to his sword. The knight wasn’t the most interactive compared to his other men, but even so; the council he was willing and able to give was always indispensable. For once he approached the two, looking down at the crystal himself before looking up at Mordred. “Are you planning on going back for it?”

“No.” The rogue king shook his head as he put the crystal back into his pocket. “She said to wait and continue on with the original plan. That sword won’t remain with them for very long now, with her plans now set in motion.”

Then all that remained was taking down the final kingdom… and the realm would be whole once more.

— SUMMER, 1956 —

Her heart was as heavy as the steps she took. She didn’t know for how long she had been wandering for, but that mattered little to the fairy as she trudged on. She found her slow journey leading her to a cottage, now abandoned and dark as she walked inside. The floorboards creaked with each step she took, Zvezda keeping one hand out as she felt her way through the dark. The night was in full bloom, and while the moon shone through the window of the room, there was only so much light that could filter into this house. And sadly… she had no means of a light source.

The fairy let out a shaky sigh as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shuddered. She was glad it wasn’t winter but the night air still held a chill to it. But there was nothing she could do about that now.

There was nothing she could do about anything…

Oh, Pierrot, her dear Pierrot, what an injustice had been dealt to them for having what they had done? Was it really so wrong to have loved him…? No, and she still didn't regret it. But that didn’t stop her chest from aching so bitterly.

Why…? Why, why, why?!

She found herself staring at the moon again, gaze trailing lazily towards the bright star next to it. Her vision blurred as her shoulders trembled, the woman shakily breathing in as a sob wracked her body. She found herself on her knees, still clutching tightly to herself as she broke under the light of the night.

She didn’t regret it… but the pain her choices wrought up was still a lot to bear.

Chapter Text

— August, 1983 —

The sudden, urgent knocks on her door drew Red away from the meal she was having. She paused, looking over at the door. When she heard it banging again she got up with a sigh.

“Coming!” Red called as she walked to the door, fixing her belt along the way. She hadn’t expected any guests today, so she wasn’t sure who would be dropping by so suddenly. The only ones she’d figure would visit were Snow or David but last she remembered, they were still away on some journey they vaguely mentioned. To her pleasant surprise, however, she opened the door to the very duo themselves. Immediately her face lit up.

“Oh! Snow what’re you-” her smile faded, alarm replacing it as the dark-haired woman sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She opened the door entirely inviting both of them inside. David’s concerned look hardly reassured her either.

“Oh Red! Something terrible has happened,” Snow exclaimed, Red noting the way she clutched at her stomach.

She couldn’t help but stiffen, looking between both parents as her worry knotted itself tighter and tighter.

“What? What happened? Is it the baby?”

“Yes. Yes it is, and I don’t know what to do!”

Her worry grew greater. “Whoa, slow down, what- what happened? Did- David?” she looked up at the king, watching him sigh wearily.

“We had a run-in with Maleficent and her kind,” he started, Red pursing her lips together. Oh, this could only go so well. “And they brought us to the Tree of Wisdom.”

“No, no, forget that! What’s more important is that she told us that our child could turn dark and that’s something we can’t afford!” Snow interjected fretfully. “So we went and found a unicorn to see our daughter’s future. It was just to be sure but-” her voice wavered, “The unicorn- I watched my daughter rip my heart out and crush it.”

Oh. Red’s heart sank. “Did you both see that?” she looked over at David, just barely hiding the dismay in her voice.

David, however, smiled softly. “I saw the most beautiful little baby girl. So sweet, so joyous.”

She couldn’t help but waver, the fear ebbing slowly away. So they weren’t done for then? “They’re hypotheticals then, aren’t they?” she asked, the royals exchanged a look of puzzlement. That was the only thing she could really consider but she never tried working with a unicorn. Even then, if she grew darker, surely there was still a way out of this, right? “Well, regardless, maybe she won’t fall to such a fate with you guiding her-”

“Red, we can’t take the chance to let that happen! Not with the curse so close by.” Snow exclaimed.

Red’s expression softened. “They were only trying to scare you. You’re good people, I’m sure you’ll be able to show her how to be a good person herself.”

“But what if we can’t?! What if she goes dark cause we didn’t do this right?”

“I-I can’t say,” Red’s shoulders dropped, watching the two deflate as well. “because I don’t really know.”

— PRESENT —

Two swords clashed together, the wood thumping against the other as Pinocchio and Lancelot face off. The woodcarver held his blade firmly, his grip wavering as the senior knight pushed harder against his own and drove them both to the ground. Pinocchio spun away from the knight as Lancelot recovered, his cloak billowing behind as he clumsily stepped out of the way of a kick from the other and swung his sword out at him from behind. The knight whipped around, colliding his blade with the brunette’s once more.

Henry couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two continue their improvised dance with his hand under his chin. The fire next to him crackled and spat, casting shadows all around and he could hear chatter behind him. Every member of their little group was engrossed in their own evening activities similar to how they were just yesterday… as well as the day before that. But his focus remained on his shared apprentice, nodding approvingly when Pinocchio successfully ducked away from another one of Lancelot’s blows.

“Well your dodging’s gotten better!” He called out, seeing the man smile as he relaxed. That single lack of focus was all it took for Lancelot to snatch up the opportunity and swing his blade at the brunette once more, the sword falling out of Pinocchio’s grip. Henry cursed it inwardly and sighed as the woodcarver scrambled to grab it. “You really need to work on keeping a hold of that sword though. Tighten your grip!”

“I’d suggest giving it a rest! You’ve been at it all day.” Henry looked to his left as Malvina stepped over, depositing her load of firewood next to the stool the prince was sitting on. Her eyes were brighter, much more so than when they first arrived at the campsite, seemingly recovering from whatever fairy-related ailment that had been bothering her. She was even smiling again, as she looked down at him.

As much as he didn’t enjoy feeling like he was being coddled or patronised, he couldn’t deny that the woman had a point. Despite taking the time to rest before they continued on their journey, both the Prince and Lancelot had been taking turns in sparring with Pinocchio and anyone else that wished to learn, but they had been at it since the sun rose, right until the rays of light indefinitely disappeared for the night. So while he’d like nothing more than to continue with practice and make sure they were as prepared as they could be for the upcoming battle ahead, rest was equally as important. At least both her and the men were all waiting on his final say. He huffed, giving them a nod.

Pinocchio immediately relaxed, handing back Lancelot his practice blade and strode over to his tent, tightening the cloak around his shoulders.

Lancelot, in the meanwhile, packed swords back up into his bag, smiling all the while. “We can continue first thing tomorrow, then.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure on that idea either, Lancelot.” Henry heard Red say. He looked up as a shadow fell over him, seeing the red-cloaked woman hovering above him yet her gaze focused on the knight packing the swords up. “We’ve been here for a couple of days now, it might be in our best interest to move forward. Who knows if Mordred won’t be on our trail soon.”

“Why the sudden rush, Hood?” Lampwick chipped in, Henry looking over as the man flicked the hood of his hat up. He held one of Iskra’s feathers in one hand while the mare rested her head in his lap. The man’s focus was entirely on the cheek wings of the little creature, carefully arranging and grooming out new feathers that had grown into the wing’s plumage all the while Iskra relaxed next to him.

Red huffed. “I’m not rushing anywhere! But while we might have lost them in the cave back then, I can’t help but worry if they won’t try and find our trail again.”

“It would be good to keep going, so we don’t end up losing our chance to win the war in the first place,” Pinocchio pointed out as he sat down next to the prince.

“That also. Where to next, Lancelot?”

Lancelot emerged from his tent as Red called out to him, gazing up at the endless wood around them. “We’re still deep in the forbidden forest. There’s a river nearby that we’ll need to cross but the forest will clear once we reach the base of the mountains.” he explained, before crouching next to the fire, poking a stick at the burning embers.

Red hummed. “We’ll have to be careful around there then given that’s where Maleficent’s nest lies.”

“She’s here?” Lancelot looked up.

“Maybe not, if we’re lucky, but I know her well enough to know that she doesn’t like strangers on her plane. She should be dormant right now, something about a dragon coma and she won’t wake for a while or she’ll be away entirely, but best to remain cautious and get past as quickly as possible without waking her.”

A dragon, and so close to where they were journeying past on top of that. He remembered hearing the tale his grandfather told him about defeating one, the young prince since then dreaming of someday taking down such a beast himself. To protect his kingdom from such a threat. In a way, one could say his dream was becoming partly true, despite it not involving any heroic victories against a dragon. But still; protecting his kingdom was still something he strived for, even if it meant going to war for it with the most ill-fitted group he could have ever hoped to work with. Of course they had their skills… just not the ones they needed here.

“Is there no way around?” He asked, Lancelot giving a helpless shrug.

“There is, it’ll just take us longer.” Red explained, the prince leaning back with a sigh.

“Well then, guess that’s it. You hear that, guys?”

The chatter around camp died away as Henry turned to the rest of the group.

Lampwick, once deeply engrossed in his pet’s preening session, stopped and cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“We’re going past a dangerous region tomorrow so you better shut up for the whole of the journey!”

Lampwick scoffed, grin still intact. “No promises, my lord!”

The prince tutted. Typical. “Well then, if you wish to burn to a crisp then by all means!”

Frustratingly enough, the man’s grin seemed to widen at that, Henry wondering if tying the man to the other couple’s unicorn would be an overkill to keeping the man in check.

“There will be an attempt at keeping the promise, my lord.” Lampwick corrected, throwing a wink towards Pinocchio.

The prince rolled his eyes, the woodcarver knocking his shoulder against his and shaking his head, Henry quickly understanding that the wiser choice for them would be to just ignore the snickering red-head. As much as he was eager to take on a dragon, he wanted nothing more than for them to get past it in one piece tomorrow.

— August, 1983 —

Fires be damned, as Red marched through the woods. Not even the scorched earth deterred her through making her way towards the dragon’s cave. She hardly remembered when she decided to start talking to these women, it happened so suddenly. One moment she was at home the next she and Maleficent had started talking. A part of her wondered, guiltily almost, if what she was doing was wrong. Fraternising with the enemy so to speak. But not only did all three of them know her mother… but a lot of what they said had her almost questioning whether they were as bad as what others made them out to be. Almost. Catching wind of them upsetting her friend was not something she stood for. No matter how much they claimed to try and change for the better.

She spotted Cruella and Ursula first, the Sea-witch and fur-clad lady making pleasant conversation just outside the mouth of the cave. Her eyes narrowed.

“What the hell did you three do with Snow?” she demanded, Cruella looking over surprised.

“Perdita, darling, do you really have to ask that with such an accusatory tone?” she asked.

Gods, that name. She only ever heard it from these three, given her Grandmother deigned to use it. She had gotten so used to hearing ‘Red’ it felt odd to hear it now.

“Don’t know. Maybe because you’re not exactly known for having the best intentions! What were you trying to do with them?” Red continued, Ursula giving her a bemused glance.

“Mind giving us a hint on what it is we did?”

“The tree of wisdom? Ring any bells for you?”

Ursula sighed. “Ah, of course, the tree.”

“Well nothing bad of course! I am, if not, a whole new woman.” Cruella placed a hand to her chest as she spoke, mock offence clear as day on her face.

“Like anyone’s going to believe that, Cruella.” Ursula snorted. “You wear the darkness like your fur coats.”

“And you know how much I cherish those.” Cruella crooned, hugging the coat tighter around herself.

“Oh enough of that.” Maleficent chastised as she marched away from the entrance. “We were only looking for answers. And given the only “purest” ones known to us was those two-”

“You decided to use them.” Red concluded.

Of course, what else could she have expected out of them? She should have known goodness was too much for them. Predictable. Maybe she shouldn’t have wasted a minute with any of them. It was only a matter of time before they started falling back again.

Maleficent’s eyes narrowed. “It was for the good of everyone.” she explained, Red scoffing doubtfully, “Not that it matters any longer. We couldn’t get an answer out of that tree given Snow’s little condition.”

“I still think she could have done better than take the shepherd.” Cruella huffed.

“I don’t think that holds any importance to this conversation!” Red bit back. “So that failed. What are you going to do now?”

Maleficent shrugged. “Nothing. Just sit and wait for the inevitable.” the dragoness’ frown deepened. “Why are you so worked up about this matter anyway?”

“Because having your best friend suddenly knocking on your door claiming her daughter could potentially become evil after being told such a thing may get you worked up, Maleficent.”

“Oh what a drama queen.” Ursula scoffed.

“Like you have room to talk, darling. You turned yourself into a squid after daddy took your singing.” Cruella countered, her chuckle turning to a strangled gurgle when one of Ursula’s tentacles snaked around her neck and squeezed.

“I’ll take your tongue if you keep talking!” Ursula hissed, her grip tightening.

“Girls… girls… Play nice,” Maleficent hummed, Ursula huffing as she let the other go. The dragoness’ attention remained on Red, gaze unblinking as she spoke. “It was only an observation of what could potentially happen-”

“Yes, well, your observation had set her on a spiral to prevent that!”

“Well that’s hardly my fault-”

“But you shouldn’t have said that to her!” Red shot back, before breathing in deeply. Now was not the time to anger herself. It wouldn’t help. It doesn’t help. As annoyed as she was at how unphased the women were.

“Oh suddenly you’re back on Team Snow huh?” Cruella quizzed, the wolfborn bristling.

“I’m not siding with anyone!” Red snapped. “Stop making it about either one side or the other! You guys shouldn’t have told them that!”

Maleficent sighed. “It’s not my issue that your beloved queen is so worked up over being the purest of pure that she’s blind to how she could avoid it! Nurturing goodness goes a long way. You told me that.”

“Well, try telling that to miss ‘pampered princess’ over there.” Ursula chortled unkindly. “If you’re not “born good” you’re born evil. That’s how it is with those good guys; everything has to be right from the very beginning or it won’t ever be good at all.”

“That’s not true.” Red’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh really?” Cruella challenged. She leaned closer with a smirk, Red grimacing at the stench of smoke coming from the woman’s breath. “Seems you’re not as all-knowing about your kind’s opinions like you’d think. That’s all they’ve ever seen. To them, if an apple is rotten it’ll always stay like that. Just ask Maleficent about what Princess basically said to her about wanting to turn a new leaf for her own daughter.”

Red blinked, any defences she had in regards to Snow fading away. “Daughter?”

“Oh my, did you forget to share the news with Anita’s darling?” Cruella gasped, looking over at Maleficent before grinning back at the hooded maiden. “She’s already incubating, ready to hatch any day now.”

The sea-witch chuckled. “Really had to present it like that, didn’t you?”

“That’s why there’s all the scorched trees around here?” Red asked, ignoring the remarks as she returned her attention to Maleficent.

The dragoness scoffed. “Well I don’t need some halfwit wandering into the cave now, do I?” but her expression softened, even a smile worming its way onto her expression as she asked: “Would you like to see her?”

Red nodded softly and followed her inside. The cave itself was dark and cold, Red drawing the cloak she had on around her all the more. But any thoughts she had about the cold melted away as she saw the egg in the centre of a nest of stones. Her eyes widened, finding a strange sense of… wonder as she stared at the shell. She ran a finger over the bumps and scaliness, feeling it quiver under her touch. Immediately she pulled her hand away as her eyes widened, hearing Maleficent chuckle.

“So you already know what she’ll be?” Red asked, watching the dragoness nod.

“Yes. I do already know. My dear little Lilith.” She held a hand over the egg, her expression oh-so gentle. It was serene enough that Red found herself almost forgetting who she was here with. Forget that this was someone that was insistently endangering their kingdoms until now. Of course, her wariness remained but… it was nice to see someone that seemingly willing to take a step in a better direction for their child, rather than fight against them.

Red sighed.

Good and bad; dark and light, it was always one side or the other. At one point she found herself falling prey to the same mindset, fighting even herself on what she was. Was she good or bad? After all the lives she took as the wolf? The wolf… she had been afraid of it for so long.

Because the wolf killed, it harmed, it was an untameable beast full of rage and a thirst for blood that could never be fully quenched. It hurt so many people she knew…. It hurt… she hurt the one person she loved the most. It took her mother’s pack to realise that the wolf she was just simply needed a guide… a gentle hand willing to give it a chance and work past its nature.

But that’s where the problem lay in the end. For the pack they preferred the wolf, the angered beast that could not survive among people that strived in the daylight. Her grandmother preferred the girl she was, hiding this part of her, lying to her about what it was that hunted their village under the light of the Wolfstime moon. But Snow… It was Snow who showed her that despite what others might have thought of her first, there were still those that would look past it all. That wanted her for who she was as a whole rather than any specific part of her.

It felt almost ironic that the same person that taught her to accept herself was now fighting to keep a child good. She understood why… But if she was willing to look at the beast that’s harmed countless lives and still call her a friend, why would she think a child born with a touch of darkness to her soul was something to be shunned? Someone that cannot be saved?

“Are you missing your own mum?”

Red blinked at the question, realising that she must have spaced out.

“I was just…” she let out a breath, “I can’t stop thinking about what Snow said.”

“Push it out of your head, dear. There’s nothing you can do to change the mind of someone that doesn’t wish to change. If she wants to believe that the potential for her daughter to turn evil is inevitable and there’s no going back from it, that’s her fate to deal with, no one else's.” Maleficent explained, giving another huff as she looked down at the egg. “I know I’m done with revenge. I want my daughter to be loved, to feel joy, to feel goodness throughout her whole life, not burdened by anger and hatred.”

“You’ve let go too?” Red asked quietly, Maleficent only shrugging.

“Mostly. I am trying. I don’t want my child to suffer for my choices as much as I can help it.”

Red couldn’t help but smile at that. It made her feel… hopeful. That even the darkest of souls could still find the light they needed with time and kindness…

— PRESENT —

They packed up and set out much later than originally planned, leaving their little woodland camp and started working their way through the forest. Malvina scouted ahead to ensure all was well for when the rest would show. Red and Lancelot stuck to the front together, the two exchanging small talk as they led the rest, hearing the occasional chatter behind them. As they spotted the break in the woods, Malvina returned, her expression troubled.

“Got some bad news for you folks,” she announced.

Red’s brows furrowed with worry.

“Well that’s always pleasant to hear.” Lampwick muttered in front of her as Pinocchio spoke up.

“Is the dragon awake?”

“Worse.” The fairy grimaced, “Army up ahead.”

Red stiffened.

“How far ahead?” she heard the Prince ask.

“Close enough. Camped in the direction we were heading in.”

“Damn it,” Pinocchio sighed. “Well, guess that second option’s the only one left now.”

“Perhaps not.” Red chipped in, looking hopeful. “Remember what I mentioned last night? About what dragons are like when it comes to their regions?”

But her joy ebbed away as the group exchanged nervous glances. Perhaps she should have expected that no one would be particularly thrilled by the notion.

Lancelot’s brows knotted with discomfort as he spoke up; “That’s really risky, Red. There’s no telling what could happen if we disturbed her.”

“A little destruction never hurt anyone,” Lampwick chipped in, but held his hands up in surrender when Pinocchio cast him a look. “Hey, I’m just saying-”

“I’d like for everyone to keep their head on. And without third degree burns on top of that.” he held his gaze with the red-head, looking only once Lampwick conceded with a huff, before turning to Red, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry but waking a sleeping dragon up would be too risky for anyone here.”

“I could go!”

Red looked behind at the small voice that had spoken up, about to comment on what Bethan had said when she heard the prince sigh.

“We’ll just go around, make camp here for the night and then start fresh tomorrow. Minimise any risk of being found.”

“We could minimise that risk further,” the queen spoke up, Red missing the look of annoyance the prince had, “I could perhaps put up a cloaking shield around us, and keep us hidden. The only issue is, once it goes up, you can’t step out, or the shield will fall.”

“Right. You do that.” Lampwick nodded, an off-set grin on his face, “Right now even, so I know just where I’ll be sleeping tonight to avoid it.”

“Oh don’t be such a child!” the queen scoffed “even your other half seems content with the choice here.”

“Sorry, does it look like we have th’ same face?”

“Give it a rest, you two!” Pinocchio groaned. “I’d say we make camp further away from any risk of scouts finding us. We won’t need to use a shield then either.”

“Suit yourself then. I was only trying to be helpful.” Red couldn’t help but roll her eyes as the queen added a snide look directed at the red-head while talking, Lampwick childishly sticking his tongue out at her.

Grace clapped her hands together. “Right! Who’s gonna get that firewood?”

“I volunteer! Allow our saviour time to continue his training before the sun sets.”

“Please don’t call me a-” Pinocchio sighed as Taliesin disappeared into the woods. “Nevermind.”

“I’ll go with ‘im. Make sure the fool doesn’ get himself lost.” Lampwick looked back with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh like your sense of direction is any better!” Grace retorted as she jogged after him. “Wait up!”

Red watched on silently, thoughts still ruminating over her idea as the group dispersed. It could be so much easier for them all if they had the dragon on their side. No need to prolong their stay here just to avoid Mordred’s army. She stepped up to the Prince and the Woodcarver, interrupting their private conversation with a quiet clear of her throat. “If you’d just let me go over there, we wouldn’t need to take such measures,” she offered, “She could even fly us over to Camelot.”

Pinocchio exchanged a look with Henry, who sighed sharply.

“I trust you mean well, but I’m sorry, I’m not willing to risk our lives and stuff just for an easier way out.” The prince pointed out.

“Flying will attract attention as well, I’m afraid. And goodness knows what’s awaiting us over there.” Pinocchio added

“They’re right, I’m afraid.”

Red looked behind as Lancelot approached, the knight laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Best we play it safe.” He smiled sympathetically. She offered one to him in return but it wasn’t as great as it could have been. It was a shame really. They could have had this sorted out quick and easy. But she supposed one can’t have her way all the time.

— August, 1983 —

When she heard a knock on her door that evening, Red wasn’t surprised to find Snow outside it once again. The only thing that caught her off-guard was how perked up she seemed now. Red couldn't help but smile. Maybe she shouldn’t have worried so much, seeing that Snow herself found peace in her heart about the uncertainty too.

“Hey! You look happier, how are you?” She asked.

“Oh, more than alright. Red, we’ve found someone! Someone that can help us with our plight.” Snow exclaimed almost too joyously.

Red’s smile waned. “That’s-that’s wonderful!”

“Now all we need is to find a vessel. A living one.”

And thus her smile vanished. “S-sorry what? A vessel? For what? Why are you-”

Snow breathed in deeply. “For the spell the wizard intends to use, he said he’d need a living vessel to transfer the darkness potential into it.”

Any relief the wolfborn had previously felt vanished, a cold sense of dread replacing it and rippling down her spine. “Whoa, hold on! Transfer? Living vessels? What are you guys talking about? What are you doing?” Her voice wavered as she spoke, looking between both the royals. They weren’t seriously considering what she thought they were considering… Right?

“We found a man, in the infinite forest, after being forced to flee our journey back home, who told us of a spell that could banish our daughter’s potential for darkness.”

“But in order to do so he’d need something to transfer the darkness to. He said something about a blank slate like her?” David added with a puzzled look directed at his wife.

Blank slate?

“Right!” Snow nodded. “Something untouched by darkness or light.”

“Someone else’s child?!” Red uttered. “Do you guys- are you guys hearing yourselves at all?”

“It’s for the good of all of us, Red! Please, you know what’s at stake. If we don’t ensure that every risk is eliminated, we may never have a chance at defeating the Evil Queen’s curse or the likes of her and Maleficent!”

“No, there has to be another way for you to do this! Not sacrifice someone else’s child for something that may not even happen!”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Was this how far they were willing to go for a—for an assumption?

“We can’t afford that right now, Red!” Snow continued, “We can’t afford to lose everything.”

“Your child turning dark doesn’t even have to happen!”

“You don’t know that for sure!”

“But you don’t know for sure if it will even happen!”

“It’s too risky to leave it as an uncertainty!”

“So you want to condemn someone else’s kid just so you can be sure? Snow, please, that’s not the way to do this.” Red continued to argue, grinding her teeth together as she saw the queen ready to counter back, but her husband was quick to beat her.

“We can barely even return home right now with Maleficent burning our kingdom’s grounds down.” he chimed in, Red panting for breath by then.

“She’s not burning the grounds down, please you have to trust me!” she exclaimed.

“And how do you know this?” David asked, his eyes narrowing, Red pursing her lips together. “You know something don’t you?”

Red dropped her gaze to the floor as Snow spoke, “Red, talk to us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She countered.

“You know something though, don’t you?”

But Red remained quiet.

“Please, if you know something don’t keep it from us. Why is she doing this? One moment she wishes for mercy and an alliance because she’s becoming a mother, the next thing a part of my home’s getting torched!”

“Well then mother to mother you should understand! She’s only doing that to protect her egg!” Red exclaimed, the queen’s eyes widening.

“She laid an egg?”

“That’s why the land by our kingdom is scorched to the core?” David added.

The wolfborn froze. Oh no. Oh no, no, no! She should not have said that. Not when she noticed the contemplation passing across Snow’s face.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop! I really don’t think this is the way to go, Snow.” Neither responded, as Snow and David exchanged a glance with one another. Red bit her bottom lip nervously. “Please, forget I said any of that, this is not a choice you need to make!”

“No, you’re right, a child doesn’t need to get hurt by this.” Snow hummed as she turned around and walked away, almost in a daze. Red could only watch on, feeling the tension in her stomach growing. Oh. Oh she had a really bad feeling about this.

— PRESENT —

The group had settled for the night, Red taking on the first part of the shift. She stared at the flames absent-mindedly, thoughts anywhere but on the lookout she was supposed to be. She couldn’t help but wonder about them, about Lilith and how much might have changed. It had been a couple or so years since they last saw each other really, but she was sure the younger dragoness had yet to forget her. It made her smile thinking about those first steps she took and being able to witness them. She supposed the sudden company would throw her off, the dragon preferring solitude over groups at any time but maybe it would have done her good too!

“Mind a little company?”

Red looked up, seeing Grace looking down at her with a grin. Without a word, the older woman pulled over the second stool, Grace nodding quietly in thanks.

“Are you upset that we’re not gonna wake up the dragon?”

“Oh! No, it’s fine I figured that would happen.” Red smiled. “I mean maybe it would have been nice, we wouldn’t have to go around now if we did that, but I can understand why the rest may not agree.”

“Yeah…” Grace sighed, turning back to the fire with a slight shiver. “It’s just not worth nearly dying for you know?”

“I understand.” Red nodded, her gaze still stuck on the fire.

It could have been nice if she could have introduced her to some of her friends too. But maybe it was for the best. There was no telling what could come of it either. And she’d rather risk on one getting hurt. Whether that meant Lilith or their little party.

“Besides, there’s other ways and times we could do something stupid and reckless.” she heard Grace continue, the wolfborn giving a huff.

“We’re walking into a fight I feel only four of us are experienced enough to handle.”

Grace scoffed. “Well the fairy’s got magic at least. But believe it or not, I know my way around with a blade or two on hand as well. Wickers and I had to get by on our own for a while, so it was a good skill to learn.” Red looked over, seeing Grace smirking down at her. “And hey! Maybe we could surprise them with a handful of these!” she shook her bag, the sound of clinking bottles coming from inside it. Red looked on, cocking her head to the side with a perplexed frown. But her confusion melted away as the woman pulled out one of the bottles, showing off the sparkling dust inside it.

“And Lampwick? Or is he the same as his fiancé and can’t even keep a grip on the blade.” Red asked, Grace tapping her chin with the cork of the bottle.

“He can catch a rabbit but I’m pretty sure he’d run from a wolf. Though it’s hard to say. Once tried to take a knife to a royal guard as a threat. So one can only guess what his skills are like, really.” she concluded with a shrug, Red humming softly in response.

So out of all of them, the only ones that stood any chance were Lancelot, Henry and the Queen. Grace and Malvina as well, she supposed. If they were lucky to attack at Wolfstime she could offer her own form of assistance but the rest were going to be trouble.

“Speaking of that fool; looks like someone’s not allowing their beauty a chance to sleep,” Grace chuckled, nodding ahead when Red looked over, perplexed. The older woman glanced to where the tents stood, seeing Pinocchio standing outside his and straightening his coat out.

Grace snickered next to her, Red shaking her head as she raised her voice.

“Hey! Pinocchio! Stop standing around over there and come here!”

“Yeah, take a break from babysitting for a moment.” Grace chipped in, the brunette striding over to them. He smiled softly.

“The kid isn’t all that much trouble-”

“Oh I’m not talking about Bethan!” Grace laughed, Pinocchio’s smile waning to befuddlement. “It was about time Lampwick stopped hogging you. Now it’s our turn.”

The woodcarver shook his head, an exasperated chuckle escaping him. “If you say so.”

Before he could move to grab another stool, Grace had already shuffled over, patting the other half of the stool for him to squeeze onto. Despite the tight fit, neither appeared bothered, as Grace leaned against the woodcarver’s shoulder contently. Red shook her head at the antics, turning her attention up to the man.

“Is Lampwick really not letting you sleep?”

“Only on some nights.” Pinocchio commented, eyes glinting with a touch of mischief. Red scoffed at the woodcarver’s smile only growing, before he shook his head. “But no, not tonight. I just couldn’t find myself able to sleep yet.”

“You need to stop worrying, we’ll find Merlin and all of this will be sorted soon,” Grace chipped in.

“’cept I still can’t fight.”

“You’ll figure it out! You’re already getting the hang of parrying, you’ll get there!” the woman continued, Red offering her own nod of agreement.

Pinocchio sighed, his smile barely reaching his eyes. “I can only hope.”

“Don’t just hope. Know that you are getting there.” she continued, rapping her knuckles gently against the back of the man’s head. “It’s only been a week but you’ve improved since. Like you can even hold that blade now. The Prince himself praised you too. Come on, Pinocchio, be proud of yourself for once!”

“I’d rather not be too overconfident,” Pinocchio huffed, Grace waving her hand dismissively.

“Oh please, like your modest ass could ever do that,” she scoffed.

Pinocchio huffed, turning back to the flames. Red looked on as well, grabbing the stick she had nearby and giving the pit a good couple of pokes. Her attention remained on the duo, however, as she listened to Pinocchio speak up once more. “But it’s nice to hear that it’s getting better. Maybe we really could stand a chance against Mordred.”

“Exactly!” Grace exclaimed. “And we’re already so close now! We keep our eyes on the prize, and I’d say we’ll be getting out of this thing all still whole.”

Red smiled. Whole. That would be nice. If they play their cards right, they just might get out of this alive.

Her slip away went by unseen. Or if the people saw her, they didn’t really care. Not that it mattered to her, because the child turned dog was quick to scamper out of sight of the camp and down the path she rememers the blue-haired lady coming down from when telling them about the army.

She knew Pinoo said something about it not being safe for them, but if she was extra careful, maybe she could help! She looked on at the army as she reached past the forest, smelling the mix of smells from the soldiers. She could smell smoke too as she looked out at the mountain, the little girl marching her way closer and started climbing.

— August, 1983 —

“So how long do you think she’ll have us out here for?”

Ursula sighed. This was the third time she’s heard that question ring out. It made her skin crawl with annoyance on hearing it as she slowly turned her head, casting an unamused look at the fur-coated woman. “Are you that bored?”

“I can’t just sit here all day and do nothing.” Cruella whinged, Ursula rolling her eyes and looking away with a huff. “Come now, Ursula, even you have to admit that this is getting tiresome.”

“It shouldn’t be long now I’m sure.”

“Oh you said that a few hours ago.” Cruella huffed. “How long can it take to hatch an egg?”

“Ever laid one before, dear?” The sea-witch raised her brows up at the woman, hearing her only grunt in response. “That’s what I figured.”

With another loud huff, Cruella leaned against the wall of the cave, stroking the layer of white fur she wore. “A shame Perdita isn’t here. Maybe the wolf could have provided some entertainment.”

Ursula couldn’t help but scoff. “How? Did you plan on teaching her some new tricks? Maybe the ones that didn’t work with Anita? The moon’s not full tonight, Cruella. Just stick with Dalmatians.”

“Well none of them can talk.” Cruella grumbled. The sound of the thickets moving grabbed Ursula’s attention, looking ahead. The leaves on the bushes moved, but there was little to no movement in front of them. “Oh what now?”

“Must have been the wind.” Ursula grunted, flinching as a breeze blew past them. “The least that Maleficent could have done for her guards is to throw a little dragon's fire our way.”

The undergrowth shuddered again, Ursula looking to her left. She heard the intruders before they saw them. But that was late enough as her chance to warn Cruella fell short the moment dust was blown in her face. The last thing she noted was the woman saying something about mittens made of puppies, before her eyes slid shut and she hit the ground with a thud.

— PRESENT —

The rumbles of the sleeping dragon emitted throughout the cavern as she slept. It was peaceful, in spite of the falling dust onto her back. Not that she felt any of it. Dreams were null and void in the state she was in, providing her with just the right headspace to nap.

Yes, nap. That was what one could call it, but it was more than that. And she knew she’d reawaken once the first blossoms bloomed.

That had been the plan at least….

But when the sudden smell of human flesh hit her nostrils, the beast’s eyes opened wide.

— August, 1983 —

Wrong. Something was so, so wrong! She didn’t know what but she could feel it in her gut.

Her feet led her down the familiar pathway, past scorched trees until she reached the cave, the faint smell of her friends suddenly so prevalent. It made her stomach twist in fear. She worried they would try something, but she still had that inkling of hope that they’d let the sorceress be.

A wail, loud and mournful, reached the woman’s ears, a chill running down her spine and making Red sprint the rest of the way there. Maleficent was on her hands and knees and holding the baby rattle, the handle broken in two.

“Maleficent?! What happened? Where are-”

“They took her! They took my daughter!” The dragoness cries.

Red froze. “Who?! Who took her?”

“Those merciless heroes! They took her from me!” Maleficent ground out, her voice sounding raw. From crying or shouting, Red wasn’t sure, nor did it really matter, as the reality of the situation dawned on her. “She was a child, that was just a child! They call her a monster but how does that make them any different?!”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, turning her attention to the forest, where the scent seemed to lead. “I’m getting her back.”

“Cruella and Ursula already went, I fear it’s too late-”

“No! I’m getting her back!” Red snapped as she took off after where she assumed the group had gone. “And I won’t return until I do so!”

— PRESENT —

The roar behind her nearly had the child losing her footing out of surprise, Bethan gripping tightly to the stone as she worked her way down the same way she climbed up. The dragon peeked out, Beth squeaking when it craned its neck over the ledge and snapped at her, startling her enough to make her let go. The toddler tumbled down the stones, falling graciously onto a ledge. She ducked into the crack in the stone, as the giant creature snapped at her, trying hard to stick its muzzle into the hole the child had hidden herself in.

Bethan’s heart raced, hiccuping quietly even as the dragon relented its attempts at reaching her and took to the sky. The toddler whined as she rubbed at the sore spots where she hit the stone, blinking back tears as she narrowed her eyes. With a sniffle she crawled her way towards the mouth of her crevice, and looked around outside.

She whipped her head around on hearing it roar, Bethan’s eyes narrowing in the dark in her attempts to spot it. As quickly as as her gaze narrowed it soon widened, the toddler watching in awe as the dragon circled around the clearing before hovering just above it. Bethan couldn’t look away, enamoured even as fire reigned down on the big bad camp below.

She found herself smiling, wiping the back of her hand across her face to rid it of the dust that clung below her nose.

She did good. She did something good.

Maybe now, Pinoo and the others would see that she could help them too!!

— August, 1983 —

Red’s pace never slowed as she ran through the bushes, ignoring the pain in her side from an oncoming stitch. All she could think about was finding Red’s speed never slowed as she ran through the bushes, ignoring the pain in her side from an oncoming stitch. All she could think about was finding the rest of them. She needed to. She needed to- to stop this!

Gods, Snow, why? Why of all things would you drag an innocent into this? Gods she should have kept her mouth shut! She never should have told them about the egg. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if she never let slip the news about Maleficent’s baby… If she had stayed quiet—

A bitter pang struck her chest.

She remembered the tale Snow used to tell her, of what happened between her and the Evil Queen. Had she gone and done the same? Ruined the lives of someone else all because of one slip-up after thinking they could be trusted? Because she didn’t consider that, maybe, the ones she thought would remain kind to this day would turn on something out of fear and hatred for who it was related to?

No. No, now was not the time to think about that!

Right now, she needed to focus on getting the child back—and get her back before it was too late to try.

Her sprint grew faster, the trunks of trees and undergrowth blurring around her, with nothing left on her mind but needing to reach the child.

Reach the child. She needed to get to the child!!

— PRESENT —

The strange uneasy feeling is what had awoken Iskra. But it was realising that the child was missing what ended up keeping her away. She didn’t waste time creeping out of the tent, glancing back at her little family as before darting into the woods, following the trail left behind in the dust, the mare’s nose just barely catching her scene. It carried her through the woods to where they thinned out, the mountainside outcropping the edge and a clearing, where masses of tents lay. The sight had the mare freezing, her ears pulled back as she glanced around. She had hoped the youngling hadn’t wandered closer, fearing what these strangers would do with a child, but felt relief when the trail continued away from it. Thank the Gods. But before she could take another step, the sound of a loud roar pierced the heavens.

The mare’s ears pulled back, head whipping up as black wings shadowed the stars above her, before the sky was set aflame. She watched in horror, as fire rained down on the camp below her, the pony ready to make a mad rush for the mountains, hoping that she’d still find the child, only to see that the dragon above was heading towards her.

Iskra squealed in alarm and dashed for the camp hearing the great beat of wings above her growing closer and closer.

“Lampwick!! Lampwick!!” She called silently, hoping the echo would reach the man’s mind. Heart racing and her hooves carrying her through the undergrowth faster, the little pony zipped between trees and bushes, her ears pulled tightly back as the beat of wings above her. Oh, oh oh!! She never liked hearing those! Not one bit!

She could hear the shouts right before she charged into the clearing, the group already backed up into the centre. The small mare made a beeline for the red-head, burying her face in his thigh as though that would be enough to shield her from the dragon’s wrath. She could hear the cat yowling loudly in protest as Pinocchio held tightly onto him, Lampwick holding one hand around the man while the other scratched at the mare’s head; a simple comfort even for her.

“Can’t you-”

“There’s no time for that!” Iskra heard the queen shout, cutting off Grace and any question she might have had and watched her raise a hand to the air.

Lampwick stiffened against her. “You’re not about to-”

“Unless you wish to burn alive, then stay close!” Regina snapped. A bubble, crystal-like in colour began to expand above them, and enveloped the group entirely. And not a moment too soon, as the dragon reached their miniature clearing with an angry rumble that reached Iskra’s ears.

Her eyes shut tightly right as their world was set ablaze.

— August, 1983 —

Faster, faster, she needed to go faster!

She could feel her lungs heaving with each breath as she ran, yet she didn’t calm her pace. No… not on seeing the storm above her and hearing the screams from nearby.

The egg She needed to get to the egg

She needed to go faster. She couldn't fail, she mustn’t!

The woods cleared out, Red spying both her friends and the dragoness’ companions pulling away from a hurtling vortex in front of them. Opposite to them stood an older man dressed in red, but that didn’t matter to her, because the one thing she had her eyes on, the one thing that made her heart hammer even faster was seeing the broken egg, wobbling dangerously near the edge of the wormhole in the ground. A child’s wails reached her ears and as the portal’s edge tilted it closer to its yawning open, Red urging herself forward.

Like a flash of lightning, the woman zipped past the group and over the gaping hole, the crackling eggshell, now babyless, falling into the void. Red rolled across the floor on the other side with the screaming infant held tightly to her chest.

The cracking of the void continued breaking the floor closer towards them, Red desperately clinging onto the child as it reached them, only for the cracks to stop. The effects of the spell faded away, the ground beneath them suddenly whole once more. Red lay panting not daring to relax as she crawled to her knees, still clinging onto the wailing infant.

“Red-”

“A monster like her?” Red interjected, looking appalled down at the baby before up at the queen. “That’s what you called this child to her own mother?”

Prince Charming stepped in front of Snow, shielding her from the growing anger Red could feel nagging at her heart like a restless hound. “We didn’t know this would happen-”

“You didn’t?! Why would you steal a child from her mother!”

“We weren’t expecting the baby-”

“And?! So-so if it had been a dragon that makes this okay?! You-you…” Red inhaled, moving neither forward nor backward. “Moons ago, you showed me compassion in the wake of my own actions. You looked at the wolf and you accepted it. And yet you took an innocent and condemned her to whatever fate you almost condemned her to! How can you act like one’s a monster and the other is not?! How is a dragon a monster just because it can breathe fire as part of its nature?!”

“We couldn’t afford the chance of our daughter going down the wrong path. You know this.” Snow explained softly.

Red shook her head sadly, turning her gaze away from the tears that the queen’s eyes were shining with. “No. You just wanted to get that easy happy ending. And in the process force a punishment on someone else that didn’t not deserve it.”

“Maleficent is-”

“And why would you punish her child for crimes she committed years ago?! Why fill her heart with darkness before she could even open her eyes?!” she demanded, ignoring the way her voice broke as she shouted. Her hold on the baby didn’t lessen as she marched past, casting a glare up at the stranger along the way.

“So you’re just going to turn on us?” She heard David call, her gaze narrowing. “I thought you were on our side!”

“I take my own side!” She whirled around and snapped, “Whatever that may mean I-” She was panting by then, as she looked up. She could see the queen’s lip wobbling even from here. She hated this, she hated upsetting her, but gods, she felt so angry too just— she hiccuped as she met their gazes, meeting Snow’s especially. “I chose me years before when my mother made me choose sides and I’m doing so again. If that means you hate me—” Red shut her eyes and turned away, “Goodbye, Snow,” she uttered quietly as she walked away.

— PRESENT —

Pinocchio had never held onto Lampwick as tightly as he had. Not since years ago when tragedy struck his life, and the man had comforted and supported him through it all. His head remained buried against the other’s shoulder, one hand gripping the back of the red-head’s collar, while the other held tightly onto the squirming feline pressed tightly between them both. It wasn’t until he felt Lampwick shift and the pulse of magic ebb away did he allow himself to glance up and see what had happened. Everyone stood under what was the only unscorched part of their clearing, a very visible ring around them all showing where the magic had started and where the fire could reach. But the sight that horrified the brunette the most was what remained of their actual camp.

If Lampwick hadn’t still been holding him, Pinocchio was sure he’d have sunk to the ground, his feet suddenly as stable as a broken table, and the air ripped out of his lungs. All that was left was burning fabric and tents that could no longer shelter. Some of their bags were burning even now, the food that was most likely inside them providing the flames with the tinder it needed to keep going. Grace from next to them raced by as she reached one of the tents, pulling her cloak off as she worked to put the flames out. The others followed suit, some stamping over the smaller fires while some worked to smother the rest. Pinocchio, however, still couldn’t move. His eyes remained glued to what was left of the tent he and his partner had been sharing, a shuddering gasp leaving him as he watched it smoulder.

The cold air, in spite of the fires around them, nipped at his neck and arms, the woodcarver taking shelter in the warmth the red-head provided. The coat he wore was still inside that tent… The last thing he still had of his father, the one item he had sworn to care for and never let it wear out… was now, most likely, burnt to ashes inside the tent he had been forced to run from. He didn’t know if he wanted to scream or cry more as he watched his friends work to extinguish the flames, feeling like his chest would burst from the aching inside it. Of all things he had… how could he have been so careless with that…?

He could feel the scratches on his arms from where Figaro had lashed out, the tom now hiding behind his legs. Iskra stood at his side, offering a comforting weight against his thigh, and all the while Lampwick remained with him, arms tightly wrapped around the woodcarver and easing him back towards the present.

‘So much for getting out of this whole.’ he thought sadly, hanging his head low.

“Do you have the sword-”

He buried his head into Lampwick’s shoulder on hearing him speak, a silent response to the question the man was trying to ask and heard him sigh quietly. A hand rubbed his shoulder, Pinocchio huffing shakily as he leaned into the action more, his arms tightening around the other. Figaro meowed at his feet, Pinocchio taking the chance at a distraction to crouch down to pet him. The peace was short-lived however, the dragon above giving another roar as it made its way back towards them.

A faint thrum of power pulsed around them, Pinocchio looking over and seeing both the Queen and Malvina with their hands braced and ready with magic. Grace, having stepped away from the carnage, had one hand in her bag as well, most likely reaching for some sort of dust he was sure she had in there. But before anyone could make any advancement on their target, Red ran forward.

“STOP!! Don’t hurt her!!” she called out, waving her arms up at the reptile as she landed back on the breaking tree. “Lilith, it’s okay!! It’s me!! It’s okay!!”

The dragon startled, Pinocchio hearing the quiet rumble emitting from her as she looked down from her breaking perch. Her wings flared out, Lilith giving a couple of swings on the branch before jumping down. Smoke engulfed the reptile as it fell, a woman with brunette hair and clad in dark leather stood before them. She marched closer, her teeth ground together and brows knitted downwards in a scowl. “What the hell is going on?!” she demanded, Red meeting her halfway.

“I’m sorry we were just trying to pass through.” she explained, the shorter woman huffing as she nodded past their clearing.

“And that army over there? Are they with you as well?”

“No they’re… not with us.” Red mused before shrugging with a little grin. “Kinda did us a favour really, by taking them out. So thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose.” Lilith grunted. She pulled a strand of dark hair out of her eyes as she glanced around the wreckage.

With the scare out of the way, Pinocchio worked to help with the relief efforts, deliberately avoiding his tent so he wouldn’t have to find the unfortunate state his father’s cloak remained in. He chose to ignore the biting cold still nipping at his ears and body, yet despite his teeth starting to chatter, much less find anything else as a substitute to his problem. Instead, he moved in to look through Grace’s, stifling coughs as the smoke reached his lungs. Gods above he’d never understand the pleasure Lampwick took in inhaling this kind of stuff.

“Guess they’re the ones that sent the little scout or something.” he heard the woman ask and frowned, ducking back out into the open fresher air.

“Scout?” he asked.

“Yeah. Short thing.” Lilith described, holding her hand up just above her waist. “Thought it was a dwarf or imp or something. Hard to say I didn’t get a good look at it. All I know is that it woke me up.”

Pinocchio felt his blood run cold for the second time that night, as he looked around the desecrated camp, realisation dawning all too quickly. He thought he misheard her when Red mentioned waking the dragon but when he looked around now, Pinocchio very quickly realised that one person had yet to be seen since the rush to take shelter under their magical forcefield. He figured Malvina had her taken care of, but when he looked over he saw no sign of the last member of their whole group.

“Guys? Where’s Bethan?” He asked, hearing a curse to his left as the rest halted their efforts. The clearing was soon filled with calls for the toddler, Pinocchio feeling his stomach twist in knots as he turned left and right, but saw nothing of the little girl anywhere.

She wouldn’t have done that, would she?

The undergrowth rustled, the woodcarver letting out a noise of relief as the child stumbled out towards the camp, rubbing her dirty hands into her trouser legs. He jumped to his feet and strode over, seeing the toddler look owlishly up at him, cheeks scratched up as well as little tears in her shirt.

“Ah,” Lilith behind him hummed curiously, “she’s with you then?”

His steps came to a halt as he turned back to the dragoness.

“What did you just say?” he asked, hoping that by pure chance he had misheard her. The woman only shrugged.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you or something?” she quizzed, Pinocchio feeling his shoulders tense once more as he looked down at Bethan.

“You woke the dragon?” he heard Malvina ask, watching as Bethan’s little hands scrunched up into fists. Her gaze dropped to the floor, that being all he needed to see to know her answer.

She did that… she risked getting hurt and they lost everything to this single choice. Other times he was sure he’d be angry but right now all he could feel was confusion and shock.

Why?

Taliesin behind him scoffed. “Of course she did. How are any of you surprised by this?!” The sound of a blade being pulled out of a sheath brought Pinocchio out of his whirling thoughts, the woodcarver spinning around and planting himself firmly between the approaching man and the toddler who had shrunk back behind him. Shit, now would have been a great time to have something on hand!

“Not another step!” he barked, the bard scoffing a second time.

“Move aside, saviour, and allow me to end our never-ending suffering.” he proclaimed, even daring to point the blade at him.

“Taliesin that’s enough!” Pierrot called out, yet the bard kept his gaze on the brunette still standing in front of him.

Pinocchio wasn’t sure if it was the cold or fear shaking his body as he held his hands up, refusing to move away from the kid still standing behind him. “If you lay a hand on the kid you can pack whatever you’ve got and go!” he ground his teeth together, hoping his voice was a little firmer than his nerves right now. “Make your choice!”

The man laughed wildly gesturing around him. “There’s nothing left to pack! Look around you! She just lost us everything! Why do you continue to defend such a wretched thing?!”

“She’s a child! I’m not gonna go out of my way and punish a kid for one mistake!” Pinocchio exclaimed, watching the man laugh once more.

Once upon a time, when he had been young and received such a reaction, he’d have deemed it acceptable, given his body of wood. He was hardly worth the time and his mistakes were always a reason for outrage. His mistakes hurt people; his mistakes hurt him. But watching a man act so carefree while bullying the little girl behind him— to him, that was now inexcusable.

“I’m either a child or a monster righ’?” Bethan asked, hearing the frustration in her voice. “Tha’s all I am to anyone!!”

The kid’s sudden exclamation angered the bard further, Pinocchio bracing himself for the pushback that was sure to follow. “How dare you talk back, you-”

He was cut off the moment a blade was held to his throat, Lampwick having wrapped his arm around the bard’s neck, a dagger held firmly against his neck, as he warned, “Take another step and I’ll have you walk right into the knife.”

Taliesin flinched when the knife was pressed a little harder against his skin, and glared up at the red-head. Pinocchio let out a breath as he looked behind him and down at the toddler. The little girl’s face was almost concealed entirely by the fur coat she wore, her mismatched eyes looking up at him with a glare. She stepped back as he crouched down, Pinocchio’s expression shifting to soft concern. Forget what they had lost, he wasn’t about to force blame on a kid, as much as their losses pained him.

“Hey, it-it’s alright.” he murmured, holding his hand out similarly to when he first met her. The only difference then was she had been scared and refused to come closer. Now? She was tense as she looked before—without the dog hackles— but also glaring up at him with such immense anger, her cheeks were blotching deeper in colour.

“No!!!” she exclaimed, her eyes glassy as she looked up at him. “I’m not bad, I—” inhale, “I wanna help, I can help!! I’m not jus’ a kid or-or a-a moster I can help! The bad people are gone, I helped!”

“You’ve doomed us all is what you’ve done. Left us with nothing but the mercy of nature’s elements!” Pinocchio heard Taliesin exclaim and grunt, looking behind to see the knife pressed to the bard’s neck held a little tighter against him.

“Can it, bard!!” Lampwick snapped.

“I jus’ wanna help…” The child mumbled, Pinocchio turning away from the ongoing chaos back to her. His shoulders dropped as her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Kid-”

“Stop saying that!” Bethan’s head whipped up as she snapped, Pinocchio grimacing.

“Beth… I-I understand, but-”

“No you don’! You’re big you can’ get i’!” she continued, Pinocchio pausing.

He couldn't, huh? He supposed he understood where she came from. Several decades ago he'd have said the same, mourned the same issue. No one could understand, because there was no other person like him. He was one of a kind; a boy carved out of enchanted wood and brought to life by an older man's wish for a son of his own. Not even… not even his father could understand. Hell, not even Jiminy! Yet he accepted it all; He was a strange being; he was something new and odd, and most people weren't fond of that. Back then all he could do was keep his thoughts to himself. What good would it do to voice them, right? Yet here he was now, decades later, hearing those same bitter frustrations thrown back at him from someone that hadn't even been made of pine. She was real as real could be; Yet in the back he heard someone curse her out for something she couldn't even help and the child shouting for someone to hear her. He wanted to say something. There had to be something he could say, right? But he found himself almost frozen to the floor he was crouched on. What..? What could he say? What should he say?! His shoulders dropped, watching as the toddler backed away. “Beth. Please, it’s okay.” she shook her head harder as she continued to skitter back. Her transfiguration was fast as she jumped to all fours and bounded out of the clearing and back into the wood.

“Bethan!” Pinocchio was on his feet in an instant, ignoring the call behind him to stop as he ran after the girl. “Bethan, come back!!”

— August, 1983 —

The return took them until the break of dawn, Red feeling the exhaustion from the long night endeavour weighing heavily on her—as though her very limbs were made of stone. The child in her arms, now swaddled in furs that Cruella had somehow… swiftly fashioned up, slept soundly in the wolfborn’s arms, all the way to the cave where Maleficent sat. The woman was leaning heavily against the yawning of the cavern, eyes rimmed red and glanced up only when they got close. She gasped, scrambling to her feet as she darted forward, arms out and reaching towards Red.

“My Lilith!” The newborn was quickly taken from Red’s arms, Maleficent cradling her to her chest and pressing her forehead to the sleep child’s. As she exhaled she looked up, with a quiet “Thank you.”

Ursula grunted. “We almost lost her back there, had it not been for Perdy here.”

“What do you mean?” Maleficent asked, her eyes narrowing and lips curling upwards in a snarl. “What were they trying to do to my daughter!?”

“What they did to her…” Red hesitated. She knew what could come of this, and she couldn’t help but feel afraid of the dangers her words could bring. Red dropped her gaze.

In spite of her anger at the royals, she still didn’t want them getting hurt. She ignored the scoff from Cruella as she watched the infant twitch in her sleep.

“I’ll tell you what they did.” Ursula chimed in, “They transferred their own child’s darkness into her.”

“Heavens! And they think us sick and twisted. Least we don’t steal children for our own schemes like some Black Fairy actors.” Cruella commented, retaliating her words with a glare.

“Don’t speak that name!” Ursula hissed.

Red ignored the bickering as it continued, her eyes only on the mother as she cradled her sleeping infant, her gaze soft and gentle. “No amount of darkness they could have given you would stop me from loving you, my dear.” she crooned, delicately brushing a finger over the little girl’s face. Once gentle her gaze hardened as she looked up at Red once more. “Thank you for getting her back.”

“What are you going to do now?” Red asked, watching her warily. But Maleficent only sighed.

“Well, I’d like nothing more than to burn them alive for what they had done. But I’ve learned since then that won’t help. No sleeping curse or cruel act can turn the tables for what they did.” She shot Red a glare, the weight once eased off of her shoulders returning. “I don’t forgive them, and I don’t think I ever will. But I won’t give them the satisfaction of thinking they’re right.” With a sharp huff, the sorceress turned back to her daughter as she readjusted the blanket she was swaddled in. In an instant her expression softened once more. “She is no monster… she will be loved, she will be adored and she will grow up stronger than anyone. No matter how dark they tried to turn her heart. I will make sure that she is happy.”

Red sighed quietly. “I’m glad.”

Maleficent straightened, her hold on her child never relaxing as she nodded towards the cave. “Come my dears, There’s still the feast I promised to celebrate the hatching.”

Cruella sighed loudly. “Oh, the one good thing that came out of this whole ordeal. Shall we, darling?” She looked over as Ursula took a step to her side, the two making their way in. Maleficent moved to follow but stopped and turned when Red didn’t follow.

“Are you coming or not?”

Red looked up, expression still downtrodden. She still couldn’t believe that had happened. After everything they’d gone through… She shook her head. “No, I think it’s best if I take my leave. There’s some things I need to figure out for myself.”

“Far from Hochwasser I’d wager.” Ursula quipped, sharing a look with her fur-coated companion.

Red remained mum, only giving the group a final nod and marching away.

— PRESENT —

Everything about this whole mission sucked. She was forced to wear clothing now stained in dirt, Her hair was a mess and she reeked of old sweat and, now, bloody smoke. She missed the streets of Storybrooke, her son. Though she couldn’t help but wonder if that was even her son anymore, since that separation. In spite of the light that was placed in her heart, she couldn’t help but curl her lip in distaste over Regina. Regina, the one that had it all; Love, family, friendship, light. And what was she left with? A “fresh” start, with people that wanted nothing to do with her. It pissed her off to no end.

“Found anything?” she called out, seeing Lampwick crawl out of the tent he and the woodcarver shared. He cast her a look of annoyance and huffed, holding up broken Excalibur in his right.

“Well, sword’s still in one piece, I guess. Though nothing otherwise substantial.”

She scoffed. That was another thing she was left with right now: Absolute nothing. The queen crossed her arms over her chest, hearing Taliesin scoff nearby. And also that, which made her blood boil.

“This is what happens, when you allow the-”

“Do you have nothing better to do with your time than bitch about the kid?!” She cut in sharply. Gods, every minute. It was like the clown had nothing better to do with his existence except sound like the world’s most obnoxious preacher! “Every moment you bring her up! No one’s listening! Stop blaming a gods damned child for every bad thing that happens.”

“Like you have any means of talking given who the hell you have a grudge on.”

Regina whipped around at the sound of the dark blonde speaking, seeing Grace glaring over at her.

With a sneer, she glared back. “I’m over it!!”

“Must we dance the same waltz every time?” Pierrot groaned as he shuffled out of his tent ruins. “Haven’t we got better things to focus on right now?!”

“We do. Just these fools are too blind to see it-”

“Gods above, give it a FUCKING rest, Taliesin!!” Lampwick snapped, one hand gripping onto the sword while the other held some burnt to shred garment. “She’s a kid for crying out loud! That you and your whole damned city left to survive or rot on ‘er own! What the actual fuck had she done that’s so evil to you guys? Except maybe beg you for food!”

“Her mere existence is a plague to our city. Farmers losing their crops after talking to her, kids and others getting hurt just from being close by.” Taliesin argued, the red-head scoffing in response.

“That’s a whole load of bullshit!”

Much as she hated to do so, she had to agree with the guy. She knew the adult, she saw the effect her life had on her, and all her life she seemed nothing but willing to help and to serve. And yet all this talk of curses, she thought back to how Bethan in the real realm acted; distancing herself when things went wrong, fearing like her actions were the cause. It was bullshit, but that bullshit had poisoned not just the minds of Camelot but the one they chose to condemn as well. And it pissed her off to no end.

“That’s enough.” The ex­-fairy called out, but much to her already severing nerves, the bard called out once more.

“Right! The moment the saviour brings her back it’ll be at last the end-”

Enough was enough, was all Regina could think as she shoved the man roughly against the charred bark of the tree, yet before she could get close, Lampwick had beaten her to the punch, holding the broken blade against the throat of the bard.

“Keep talking. I dare you to!” she heard him hiss, the man’s grip tightening.

“Knock it off!” She heard Grace call out.

“Lampwick! That’s quite enough. No one’s going to kill anyone here!” Malvina called out, yet Lampwick’s hold didn’t relinquish.

“Hey! You heard her; back off!” She called out, watching Lampwick stumble back, seeming almost stunned. She held her hands up in mock innocence as she walked away, ignoring the looks the two men exchanged now that they were apart as she strode towards one of the burning tents. Yikes.

“Guys? Can we focus?” Grace asked. “What are we doing? We’ve got nothing! And no, we’re not killing a child cause that’s not gonna solve our problem of having nothing to survive the night with!”

“There’s the other camp maybe. The big one back by my cavern.” Lilith suggested with a shrug. “Most of the guys either burned or fled, maybe there’s still something salvageable over there.”

“It’s worth a shot. We’re not going to get anywhere else right now like this.” Henry agreed, others humming and nodding along with him.

“Well then no time to waste! Best we get on our way.” Red urged, taking the lead alongside the dragoness as they disappeared into the dark wood. Regina moved to follow with a sigh, glancing back and seeing the Red-head still standing where she last saw him. His eyes remained glued on the sword in his hand, the queen huffing as she watched on. He looked dazed even now brows knitting together worriedly, strangely enough.

“Hey, beanpole! Are you coming or not?”

He looked up, expression still without change even when he turned his attention to the campfire. “Gonna stay and keep watch of th’ camp.”

Wow no biting remarks this time? Who’d have thought he’d have it in him? Certainly not her. In fact, it was almost strange, she kind of missed it now. “Suit yourself!” Regina shrugged before marching past.

— August, 1983 —

“Perdita! Perdita stop!”

Hearing Maleficent call for her made Red want to almost pretend like she never heard. But still… The guilt from earlier continued to swell, and a part of her felt she owed the dragoness. Whatever that would end up meaning.

“What do you want?” she asked, looking back.

The woman had no baby with her, much to the wolfborn’s surprise. She figured she’d want to keep her close right now given the situation. But then again, there wasn’t a chance of anyone else wanting to steal it now.

“I need a favour.”

Red turned fully around, her expression wary. “Okay? And what’s the favour exactly?”

Maleficent sniffed. “Well, originally I had wanted for my daughter to meet the princess. But given the circumstances. I don’t want those people anywhere near her.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“You understand this whole ‘being good’ thing.” The older woman explained, Red’s eyes narrowing, “Perhaps you could help show my child what that is like.”

“She’s your kid-”

“I’m not saying you’re going to raise her.” Maleficent’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t have someone rear my child for me. But, maybe you could show her what it’s like to love. What it is that makes a person good.” the dragoness sighed heavily, “I wish to change but I also wish for her to have some influences that aren’t just myself, one spiteful cecaelia and a woman that enjoys skinning animals for a living.”

Okay. Maybe she could have expected this. And yet, she still found herself rather stunned. Her jaw remained askew as she spoke up.

“So you’re going to ask the wolf.” Red tilted her head curiously, “Why do you want me?”

“Well apart from knowing your mother, you’re one of the few good people I know that has been willing to give me or Lilith the benefit of the doubt. And not turn us—turn her—away.”

“I know what it’s like to hate yourself for something that you are… And feel like you can’t have a second chance. Feel like an uncontrollable monster. Snow taught me… all of what I know now.” Red admitted quietly. “She made me feel accepted. And made me feel like I had a choice to be who I want to be rather than just… whatever others saw me as.”

“And yet she couldn’t spare the same mercy for an infant.” Maleficent bitterly scoffed. “Whatever. I know I can’t rely on her the way I once hoped to.”

“No. I suppose that trust had been severed.” Red murmured as her shoulders fell. Which she could understand as well. Why? Of all choices, why that one, Snow? Had that really been worth it? Though she wasn’t without blame either, was she? She never should have said anything…

“So what’s your answer, Perdita?”

Red’s gaze rose at the question, looking thoughtful. She wanted to refuse, yet… the idea of doing so made her feel sicker. She sighed, head rising a little higher as she nodded.

“I can try.”

— PRESENT —

The man panted as he stumbled against a tree, watching the dog continue to run from him. He ground his teeth together and pushed off of the trunk, taking off into a jog once more.

“Bethan!! Bethan, wait!” Pinocchio called as he caught up to the toddler. “Please, just let me talk to you-” he stopped the moment Bethan whipped around, the gaunt face of the toddler now covered with fur and floppy ears on the top of her head. The dog snarled up at him, her hackles raised.

Like he had done so before, Pinocchio held his hands out placidly as he slowly moved to crouch in front of her. “Hey… I get it. It’s not easy when you have to watch everyone get bigger while you’re just stuck like this. I understand.”

“No you DON’!” Bethan snapped back after turning human once more. “Because you weren’ like this!!” she gripped at her shirt, so tightly Pinocchio thought she’d rip a hole into it. It didn’t lessen, her scowl only dropped to the ground in front of her, and didn’t look away. The man sighed, suppressing a shiver and crouched down in front of her.

“I know it doesn’t look believable, but I’ve been there. I k-know what it’s like to watch people growing up around me for years and years and not being able to do so.” His explanation was soft and quiet, almost like if he would talk any louder, Bethan would run away again.

A lull fell in the conversation, the child’s jaw parting in surprise. Her previous glare morphed to eyes that were wide as saucers, looking down at her hands before back up at his again. “Were you bad too? That why you couldn’t grow up?” she asked quietly.

The question, innocent as it might have sounded, knocked the breath from the man’s lungs. He knew she was stuck but it being that…

“Do you think that’s why you’re stuck?” he asked, unable to hide his sadness as it clouded his features.

Bethan shrugged, Pinocchio cringing as she plopped herself down onto the forest floor. “They don’ like me. An’ don’ like that I’m like this. That I’m here forever stuck a …a bad thing. Were you a bad thing too?”

Pinocchio sat back.

Was he bad…? Gods that was a loaded question.

Time and time again he’d have his friends claim that he wasn’t and yet… when he thought about the reason why he had been stuck… He was supposed to be brave; he was supposed to be truthful and he was supposed to be selfless. Those were the three conditions he needed to meet in order to become real. And a big reason why he hadn’t been able to grow was because he could never meet those requirements. It was an endless uphill climb for him. The fact that he was human now… it was astounding to think about. But Bethan’s situation. That was different. And he couldn’t just bring his terms in because that probably wouldn’t work on her. Not to mention it would be cruel to do such a thing to a young, very alive, and very human child that wasn’t made of just wood and love.

“Kinda?” he started as he scratched at his head. “That didn’t really— At least I wasn’t… Well, I wasn’t the most obedient of sentient puppets.” He chuckled, watching the confusion grow on the child’s face. “I was carved out of wood, Bethan.”

Bethan blinked, looking the man up and down before approaching him and poking a small finger at his knee. “But you’re real.” She mumbled with a pout.

Pinocchio’s gaze grew sympathetic. “I am now. But it took a while to get there too. But we’ll get you to that point as well, I promise.”

The child was still focused on the knee she was prodding at, Pinocchio simply letting her do so. She quickly looked up, that wide-eyed curiosity stuck on her face once more.

“Did they say you couldn’ help?”

“Well… actually it was kinda the opposite. I had to help or I’d-” he stopped, mouth still parted midresponse but no sound left him. ‘I needed to because I or someone else would end up hurt… because no matter what action I’d take, if it was wrong, it had some dire consequence that resulted in terrible things happening.’

A shudder coursed down his spine, and he was sure it wasn’t just because of the winter freeze chilling him.

He couldn’t say any of that. Just the thought of saying it, much less to a child small enough for him to cradle in his arms, had his throat tightening painfully. But the child’s eyes were already on him, peeking curiously up at him. Pinocchio pulled his own eyes away, muttering quietly. “It… doesn’t matter.”

The toddler glanced away herself, Pinocchio no longer feeling tiny hands prodding at him. “I jus’ want to help. That’s all.” he heard her croak.

His shoulders sagged, the man looking down pitifully. “I get that. And if I could I’d let you help but there’s just— It’s just that you’re-”

“Small? Not strong? Both of those?” she asked as she glared up at him once more. Pinocchio remained quiet even as she turned away from him. It wasn’t as intense as it had been before. But trying to find an appropriate response even now proved difficult. She wasn’t wrong. She was young. And small. It was hard to hold or do things where you only came up to everyone’s waists and your hands were tiny enough to be held in the palm of one’s hand. But that wasn’t right to say… He knew that wouldn’t help. So instead he hung his head, shamefully.

Bethan drew her knees up to her chest, her hold on them tightening as tears clung to her lashes and dribbled down her face.

“I want to grow up… I want to grow up already, why can’t I grow up?!” she ranted, angry fists colliding with the ground as she cried.

Shit! Shit, oh this is not what he wanted!!

The man’s teeth grounded together, feeling his shoulders tense. “Hey, hey. It-it’s okay!” he exclaimed, his brows pulling upwards. “We’ll find a way to break whatever this curse of yours is.”

“No you won’!” she wailed, “No one’s ever could do tha’!” a hiccup. “All you will grow old, shivel up an’ die an’ I’ll still be stuck with this!” she gripped to the fabric of her shirt. “I don’ wan’ i’... I don’ wan’ i’ anymore!”

He didn’t know if it was possible to wilt more than he had, as he listened on to the child’s crying.

“Beth-”

“I don’t wan’ i’—” she shook her head, the sobs sounding amidst the babbling.

Pinocchio’s heart was racing. Oooooh Gods, this was the one situation he had hoped to avoid! He reached out, gingerly laying a hand on the toddler’s back only for her to shake his hold off. As though he had been hit with a whip, Pinocchio pulled his hand away. He wanted to try again, but… would that help or make it worse? This wasn’t something he was good with. Upset children— or, well, children in general—were Malvina’s expertise, not his. He could barely keep his household together. And that involved two grown ass men, a cat, their pet pony and one fairy that would show up from time to time. The prince as well now, he supposed, but even that was minimal and he was fourteen; not four.

Still, as his breath showed and he clasped his hands together in some feeble attempt to warm up, the man relented and tried once more, in spite of her protests. He grunted as the kid fought, holding on even as she kicked and thrashed. Her battle soon wavered, as tiny arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and Beth nuzzled up against his shirt. It’d do neither of them good to catch their death out here right now. That was what Pinocchio first thought, but it was quickly followed by the reminder of why he was without a coat. His hold on the child tightened, eyes closing as grief sunk in.

His papa…

For the first time in years he found him missing him more than anything. His gentle smiles, his “It’s okay, we can still make this right” when something had gone wrong, and now the cloak… the one he’d wrap him up in when the outside world was cold and the young boy he had been had gotten his clothes wet from playing in the snow. It used to engulf him entirely; a little cocoon of warmth his father would carry him back home in. His reminders and constant belief, even in the wake of Pinocchio’s waning patience of wanting so badly to be real, he clung onto them heavily even now when he was gone.

Even when he messed up or did something wrong, even when he expected his father to grow irate and disdainful towards him, that day never seemed to come. Even then he’d cup the back of his head in comfort, saying they’ll fix it all. But he knew not others felt the same way with him…

Curses and Screw-ups. Some of them were just that for the rest of their lives, since the moment they were born. As though trouble was written right into their hearts and there was nothing they could do to change that. In spite of what he had lost, he found himself gently cupping the child’s head in comfort, ushering her quietly as she cried.

But the words he so badly wished to use slipped away from him like a whisper in the wind. Because could he fix this? He couldn’t get his coat back, if it had even survived. And he had no idea how to make the child grow. Wishes on stars didn’t always work and he knew in this case it would go south. With the sword lost as well…

What else could he do for either of them? They were stuck in the middle of a strange world cursed with their own burdens and no means of solving them. He could do nothing but let Beth burrow her face against his neck as she wept, each sniffle like pin-pricking daggers to his chest.

There was only hope; but even that felt so bleak now.

Chapter Text

— 1956 —

The boy grunted on hearing the urgent knock of his room door, before rolling over onto his side to face the wall. He wasn’t exactly sure of the time right now, but that didn’t matter. However much it was, he deemed it too early for him to get up just yet. Whoever was at the door would just have to come back later.

Another round of knocks had him groaning, the red-haired boy moving to cover his ears. The softness his palms were met with, however, made him pause. Lampwick’s eyes opened wide as he carefully patted at what were supposed to be his ears, feeling the strange texture up to the very tip above his head. He looked around for a mirror, spying it close to the door. Ignoring the knocking once more he approached the looking glass, his eyes widening in horror at what he saw.

Sitting in place of his ears were a pair of long ones resembling that of a donkey’s. He pulled them down, stiffening on actually feeling the appendage move as he did so. Was it part of him?! He was sure someone had stuck them on when he was asleep or something. But no, they were actually his?! Was he stuck like this?! How did this even happen? He didn’t remember drinking any potions yesterday… Did he?

Another round of knocking had Lampwick grinding his teeth together, feeling a distant pressure rising up in the back of his head. Gods, who was so insistent that they couldn’t come by later?!

He looked around and grabbed the scarf, wrapping it around his head before marching across the room. He just barely avoided the one broken plank in his haste to reach and swing the door open with an insult ready on his tongue. That was until he saw the wooden puppet staring up at him with a wide grin.

“Hey!” Pinocchio exclaimed.

Most of Lampwick’s annoyance disappeared on seeing his little friend. Out of everyone on the island, he should have expected Pinocchio to be the first to come knocking in the morning, already set for the adventures they’d go on with every ride and stall on the island once again. Over the last five months, he had hung out with him more than ever. But then again, unlike before, they didn’t have anything distracting them here. No school, no pesky fairies or pesky crickets chirping about bad influences or nonsense like that! It was just him, Pinocchio, and all the fun and play they wanted to experience. And it was amazing!

But something felt different today. And that was outside of the strange pair of ears on his head that he’d hidden away. No, something was odd about Pinocchio.

The puppet wasn’t bouncing from toe to heel, like he usually would every time he was about to ask what they planned to do that day. Instead he was standing mostly still, his hands behind his back with worry etched across his face despite the wide smile trying to hide it. But that wasn’t what bothered him the most. It was what sat on top of the wooden boy’s head.

In place of the usual little cap he had, Pinocchio was wearing a hat so tall it looked like it could touch the top of the doorframe. He wasn’t sure when the boy had got his hands on that and Lampwick found himself eyeing it curiously.

“Wh’t’s with the early morning get-up?” the red-head nodded to the tophat.

The smile disappeared for a second, only to grow wider. “Oh! I was just-” Pinocchio shifted the hat on his head, bright blue eyes still wide. “How-how are you, Lampwick? You ready for what we’re going to do today?” and so the bouncing started, but it was too late by then. Lampwick knew now it was all just an act. He rubbed at the back of his head, feeling the pressure still there. He wondered if they had anything around here to kill the pain. He was sure his mum used to have some crazy weird remedy for it or whatever. If only he could remember that right now.

“Sure am.” Lampwick grinned anyway, pulling at the knot he made on the scarf. “What’s up with the cap?”

Another hasty fix of the hat. “Oh! Just felt like… like a change of style!” Right as the words left the puppet’s mouth, the red-head watched his nose grow a couple of inches.

He bit back a grin. “You sure about that?”

“Yes, yes, I’m quite sure!”

The nose split into two twigs right before him and Lampwick snorted. “Your nose says otherwise.”

Pinocchio pouted. “Hey leave that out of this! It just does that sometimes!”

Lampwick watched it branch out just a little more, the boy snickering louder now even as the marionette glared up at him. Oh, he was too easy to rile up, it was great!

“What’s up with the scarf then?” Pinocchio squinted up at him.

Lampwick shrugged. “Nothing. Jus’ something I thought was nice to wear.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep!”

“It looks stupid.”

“Says the guy wearing a tophat and a long nose.”

“Shut up about that!” the puppet cried, Lampwick biting back laughter once more.

He backed into the room as the wooden boy leaned closer, mindful of the bloody branch that the boy was now sporting. The red-head was suddenly very aware of how the fabric of the scarf pressed against the long ears it was hiding. It felt weird the more he thought about it. The feeling was above his head, something that shouldn’t be happening. Gods, he hated weird magic tricks like this! He hoped the effects of whatever this was would wear off soon. And that that headache passed too.

“What’s underneath there?”

“Nothing you need to see!” Lampwick pulled out of the boy’s reach.

“Well I want to!” Pinocchio huffed. “Take the hat off, Lampwick.”

“You first.”

“No chance!”

“Then I’m not doing so either!” He crossed his arms over his chest once more, raising his chin up as he loomed over the puppet. Pinocchio remained unfazed, outside of the annoyance growing on his face. His eyes narrowed and narrowed, hands crossed over his chest in an effort to mimic the older boy’s stance.

“Then how about this? On three we take them off together.” Pinocchio suggested, as Lampwick groaned.

“Gods, you’re persistent.”

“Do we have a deal?”

He rolled his eyes but reached for the knotted cloth under his chin. “Fine. On three.”

The boys counted out loud, Lampwick unknowingly bracing himself as he untied the scarf and pulled it off. He looked down at the puppet, seeing the same surprised look on his face he had. Because much like him, Pinocchio was also sporting a sudden set of donkey ears on his head. He blinked, mouth opening and closing like some fish without water.

“So, you got them too, huh?” Pinocchio’s question broke through the silence, Lampwick clicking the roof of his mouth.

“Seems like it.”

He pulled away when the boy tried to reach out and touch the ears, Lampwick retaliating by flicking the boy’s still longer nose. It elicited a giggle from the puppet, as he toyed with his own ears instead.

“You look like a jackass,” Lampwick snorted, Pinocchio continuing to laugh and prompting the boy to join him. Soon they were both laughing hard and loud enough for the whole floor to hear. But the laughter was broken by the bray that left the red-head’s mouth.

Both boys were stunned to silence, Pinocchio the first to break it with another bark of laughter.

“And you sound like one!” he exclaimed, Lampwick chuckling along. That was until the same noise left the puppet this time. He covered his mouth in surprise, Lampwick’s grin fading. What the fuck was actually going on?

“Lampwick? What’s that behind you?” The marionette asked, the boy’s frown deepening as he turned. The boy’s eyes widened.

Sticking out from his trousers was a single little tail, twitching as though it had a mind of its own. Except it didn’t have one, because Lampwick could feel the way it moved. This wasn’t funny anymore.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Pinocchio asked, his voice much more timid now.

“I don’t-” The rest of the sentence was lost to another animalistic cry leaving the boy’s mouth, Lampwick finding his breath coming out in shorter and shorter bouts. What’s going on, what is happening?!

The pressure behind his head was growing unbearable, which made the boy feel no better about whatever was happening. Lampwick stifled a wince as he clutched at the back of his head, feeling it grow and change behind him. The headache only seemed to grow and expand, the boy feeling like his whole face was on fire. What was happening to him?!

“Lampwick?” He heard Pinocchio call out worriedly. He felt a hand reach out for his but jerked out of the puppet’s touch.

His foot caught the uneven step and the boy fell back. Yet he didn’t get up, only curled inwards and drew his knees up to his chest. It felt like his very bones and body were breaking. He could no longer withhold his cry as he gripped at the back of his head. The pain coursed down to his hands and legs forcing the boy to pull them to his chest, only to see what they had become. Hooves. He had hooves.

He was sure Pinocchio was calling out to him, more than certain of that, but the boy couldn’t get anything else out except a cry for help. Anyone! Just Anyone!! He’d take the fairy, he’d take even his mum, just to make it stop! He wanted it to stop!!

His desperate calls for help turned to broken brays, daring to glance up at the puppet only to see the same horror on his face as he looked down at his own hands-turned-hooves. He could see the terror on Pinocchio’s face, and without another word he had fled, Lampwick hearing the door slam shut in the distance. His calls falter and break, the young little donkey left heaving as he remained laying where he was, with his head bowed and unwilling to get up.

He was alone.

He was all alone again.

Hearing footsteps in the distance made him stiffen the boy-turned-beast daring to glance up as they moved up the stairs towards his room. He couldn’t help but shrink back when the coachman peeked in, seeming curious. The man smiled.

“Ah, I was wondering where I heard that lovely sound coming from,” the smile turned sinister, Lampwick spying the halter in his hand. He brayed, though he quickly realised that that would not be enough to alert the coachman of his mistake. There was no escape for him. He was trapped in the room and there was no chance for him to make a run for it. “Best we get you with the others before the auction starts, hm?”

— PRESENT —

A sigh escaped him as Lampwick pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel his eyes drooping, but he knew he had to stay awake. Even closing his eyes for a second posed a threat. The man shook himself awake the second his eyelids drooped. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, really, but the idea of doing so not knowing where and how his partner was doing left him feeling worse than the lack of rest. He sighed again as he poked at the fire for a moment. Maybe the movement will be enough to keep him upright. Iskra lay, passed out, next to him, most likely dreaming if her twitches told him anything. Yet Lampwick continued his vigil and stared at the distant spot he remembered Pinocchio running into the thickets from.

Maybe it was stupid of him to stay back, but he needed to see him first… He had to. The last thing he was going to do was leave Pinocchio to come back to an abandoned camp.

If he even-

The huff that left him had him gripping his coat.

The moron. Of all the stupid things that man had ever done, even compared to him, this was by far the most stupid. Defenceless and without a coat, he had decided to run out in the middle of a winter’s night. Seriously, what was he thinking?

Clearly he wasn’t.

He only hoped the man would get back sooner than the rest would. Gods willing for once that his half-hearted request be answered-

Lampwick looked up on hearing the undergrowth rustle and reached for the broken blade until he watched the brunette stumble out into the dim light. He couldn’t help but sigh very loudly in relief before he jumped to his feet and ran to Pinocchio’s side, abandoning the accursed sword next to his sleeping companion.

“Oh thank the ancients!” he exclaimed, Pinocchio looking almost dazed.

He didn’t bother to think twice as he pulled his coat off, seeing the never-ending shivering and how stiffly the woodcarver held the child to his chest.

“Lampwick-”

“No, you’re not gonna refuse! Come on, ‘fore you catch your death out here.” He ground his teeth together as he wrapped the coat around his beloved. He had an arm on the man’s side, leading him back to the campfire and settled him by it.

“You’re gonna get cold now too.” Pinocchio stammered quietly as he looked up at him.

“Yeah well, out of both of us, I’m currently still looking fine and well and not frozen solid like you!” he retorted sharply, wincing on spying the child flinching in the man’s arms. He sighed as he sat with both legs out on either side of the log, and beckoned Pinocchio closer. The other relented with a tired sigh as he dropped his head against the red-head’s chest, Lampwick wrapping his arms tightly around him. He rubbed his knuckles up and down the other’s arm and back, hoping to warm him up faster.

“Where’d the others go?” he heard him ask, Lampwick letting out a huff.

“Checking the other camp. See if there’s anything salvageable.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

“Not while you were out in th’ woods with the girl freezing your ass t’ death I wasn’t.”

“Well aren’t you sweet.” he heard Pinocchio hum.

He didn’t say anything more. The emotions he once successfully obscured by dark clouds of smoke, now threatened to make themselves known, as he settled Pinocchio’s head against his shoulder and leaned down to press a rough kiss to his cold cheek. He was sure he betrayed his concerns well enough; whether thanks to the shaking of each breath he took or how long he held the kiss he wasn’t sure. Maybe even more when he cradled Pinocchio’s head against the crook of his elbow and buried his face in the dark curls of hair, breathing in the other’s scent. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. For once, he couldn’t care. Feeling tender fingers brushing against his arm in response was enough of a comfort to him, and that was all he needed right now.

“Is that the sword?” he heard the man murmur, Lampwick’s gaze darkening as he looked down. The sword, with its end chipped and embroidment lay at his feet, taunting him almost.

“Yeah… Seems it survived,” he sighed.

“Makes sense, given it’s magical.”

“Guess there’s no getting rid of that.” the man huffed, his glare growing with intensity.

That bloody sword. Had Pinocchio not found it they wouldn't be in this mess. They wouldn’t be out in the freezing cold, far away from home on some insane quest to save a kingdom. There was no telling if they would succeed or even come back alive, And the longer he looked at it, the deeper the anger grew in his chest. He let out a low, long breath, looking down at the woodcarver sitting in his lap. His free hand fiddled with the ring on its finger, a desperate attempt to keep his calm before he did or said anything he would regret. There was plenty of shit he wanted to say. Whether about the sword, the cursed situation they were in or the company they were surrounded by.

But that feeling quickly faded away on seeing the look his lover had. The man’s expression held little readable emotion… but he was sure he also felt the pain the sword had brought them. Even if he wouldn’t fault the blade itself.

“I’m sorry.” Lampwick muttered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah well…” he shook his head with another quiet sigh, his hold tightening a touch around the man. “What even happened?”

Pinocchio’s expression hadn’t changed. His brows were furrowed and mouth pulled into a guilty frown. The woodcarver’s gaze dropped to the child in his arms, yet continued to say nothing. Lampwick pursed his own mouth into one thin line, assuming that would be the end of the conversation. But Pinocchio sat up with a sigh, Wick’s hands lingering in the air where the warmth of his beloved’s presence was now gone. The woodcarver sighed again and stared morosely at the fire.

“Remember what I told you all those years ago?” he asked, Lampwick snorting as he picked his stick up and poked at the fire.

“You’ll have to refresh my mind, love.”

“When we were on our way to Pleasure Island.”

Lampwick’s grin disappeared.

It felt like a stone had been dropped on his stomach at the mere mention of that place. The sting on his back, and the tightness of his chest was all he could feel. He was lucky to be sitting down because the sudden dizzying panic that overwhelmed him was enough to make his knees buckle. Pleasure Island. That was the last thing he ever wanted to remember. Especially with the ill feeling rising up to his throat once more. The man dared close his eyes, hoping that by some miracle his beloved wouldn’t notice his struggle to take a breath, as the onslaught of memories thrashed throughout his mind.

He yelped and let the stick go, having not realised that he had it so close to the flames it had caught on fire, reaching the tips of his fingers. Shaking his hand out he stuck the part that hurt most to his lips. He withheld another wince as the tip of his fingers continued to ache, the man pouting down at the redness of them. Yeah, he’ll live.

“It’s the clearest thing I could remember from that time.” He heard Pinocchio say. “Where I said how I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait too long to become real.”

Lampwick breathed in deeply as he shook out his hand, before looking over amidst the silence. Blue eyes stared back at him under dark brown hair, looking hollow and afraid all of a sudden. He was sure that he looked no different from the woodcarver right now; two men suddenly haunted by the past of what their younger selves had been through. Pinocchio went to speak again but stuttered before exhaling shakily as he closed his eyes.

“I spent another two decades in that state, Lampwick. Two decades of-of frustration. I watched people growing around me and felt envious. Because at the time, I could not. Bethan’s spent maybe centuries like that.”

Lampwick looked away, running a hand down his tired face. “Why are you bringing all of this up now?” He paused. Wait- “Is that what that is about?” He looked over once more. “Because Bethan wants to grow up?”

“Imagine sitting by and all people do is tell you to stay out of the way. For multiple decades. I’m not even surprised she reacted the way she did.” Pinocchio moaned, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace. “She wants to help but what can you give a four year old to do in situations like this? It’s not like I can tell her to start a fire, or-or catch a boar or something, or set a tent by herself! What should I do? She’s four! And goodness knows how long she’ll stay like that!”

Lampwick could feel the ongrowing agitation coming from the woodcarver, the red-head glancing down at the brunette’s hands. The toddler was still cradled close to his chest, but he could see how Pinocchio’s fingers shook a little. Whether it was still the biting cold or the tight hold he suddenly had on her he wasn’t sure, not until he watched the man’s expression morph from furrowed brows to them pulled down so harshly he wondered if that wouldn’t be permanent.

“We’re gonna fix this, love.” Lampwick assured, resting his hand on the man’s shoulder. “She’ll be growing up soon enough.”

“She claims no one can fix this. How many people like us had promised her something like this and died before they could succeed? Or left, even!” Pinocchio’s mouth pursed into a tight frown as he bowed his head, his eyes drawn shut. “I’m starting to think maybe no one can.”

“Maybe Merlin’ll have something.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

Lampwick scoffed. “What happened to believing?”

“I’m just worried. Like even… fairies seemed to have it out for her,” he watched the man brush a strand of the kid’s hair away from her eyes, Bethan still very much asleep. “You would think, if no one would help, the fairies would, but not even Blue seemed inclined for such a thing.”

Lampwick couldn’t help but bristle. While he couldn’t fault the man… he couldn’t help but feel frustration well up within at the mention of fairy kindness.

Kindness… What a load of bullshit.

If they were as merciful and gracious as everyone loved to make them out to be, he wouldn’t have been stuck in a household with his mother screaming his ear off at every turn. Maybe he’d have been gone sooner. Maybe— Oh fuck it, what’s the point of thinking about it?

He exhaled, biting back the bitter bile as he looked over at Pinocchio, his expression dark. “This is Blue you’re talking about. Reul fucking Ghorm, that left you hanging on a tree until some stranger got you out.” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the snarl back, his voice sounding suffocated as he refrained from getting too snappy with the man. “The same bitch that said she couldn’t reach you on Pleasure Island Even though you begged her forgiveness.” Something you shouldn’t even have had to do!! “Her word is about as useful as a wet log one would try to light a fire with. Don’t bother with anything she claims.”

Pinocchio sighed curtly looking away. “You’ve seen how Taliesin acted with her. Explain to me why a force as great as Merlin, who has been sending out prophecies left and right to kings, knights, and shit wasn’t able to stop his daughter from experiencing the prejudices of the people she was surrounded by. In a kingdom he’s practically worshipped in no less. Tell me,” he looked back up at Lampwick again, “why had no one done anything about it? Why hadn’t he? What if he doesn’t wish to help, and we’re only leading her to further disappointment?”

Lampwick’s mouth pursed closed, all anger washed away as though he had been doused with water. He… actually hadn’t considered that. Which is rather ironic really. Out of both of them, the one to express their doubts about people would usually be him, not Pinocchio.

The man sat back, going completely silent.

If some big wizard like Merlin, who happened to be her father on top of that, won’t help her then that was it; they were done. How were any of them supposed to look the child in the eye for failing this? Failing to get her home?

His mouth felt dry as he propped his chin up on the palm of his hand.

“You see the issue, don’t you?”

“Kinda wish I didn’t,” Lampwick scoffed, looking over as Pinocchio dropped his face into his hands with a sigh.

“I don’t know what to do…”

He watched the man silently for a moment, worrying the ring on his finger once more as he looked at the creature sitting by his feet. Iskra remained asleep, curled around the cat at her side all the while, leaving him to his own devices to get out of this situation. He considered waking her up, wanting nothing more than her wisdom right now, but decided against it. This was something he needed to do. He needed to be supportive and not… not expect someone else to do it for him. Despite it being a situation not so easily fixed. What could they do anyway?

The red-head breathed out heavily.

“Look, we really can’t hythesise any other options until the inevitable happens.” Lampwick huffed as he reached for the man’s hand. “And until then we just gotta hold out and believe it’ll turn out okay.”

“Since when were you the hopeful one?” Pinocchio asked, his gaze on their interlacing fingers.

“Since the moment you stopped pulling your weight on that front five minutes ago.” Lampwick retorted, hearing the man snort. He smirked at that, before gently cupping the man’s face. The red-head’s expressions softened as the woodcarver’s weight leaned a little more against his touch. He could feel his heart race.

Gods, he felt like he was in his twenties again, and getting impossibly mesmerised by the gentle softness of the man’s features; from the way his jawline rounded out, to the brunette locks falling a touch over his gaze and the round almond-shape those blue-coloured eyes had, as they opened. What did he ever do to deserve him?

The flames cast a flickering light over the both of them, Lampwick feeling the warmth from it, despite the still icy cold of Pinocchio’s face. He smiled as he caressed a thumb over his cheek. “Try and get some rest, baby. We can figure out what to do next come the morn.” With that he brought the man closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the man’s forehead.

Pinocchio hummed softly to himself, as he shuffled closer, one arm wrapping around Lampwick’s shoulder, offering the man permission to pull him closer once more. “Thank you… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Lampwick chuckled as he squeezed him as tightly as he dared, given the child still tucked between them. “Be glad you never have to find out.”

Well, that went about as great as she had expected. What they found was barely anything. Grace was glad they had the magic users with them, making the search a lot more easier to manage with and get it done as fast as they could. Because not only was it cold, but combined with exhaustion, it made things a lot more harder. She kinda wished the kid hadn’t picked the middle of the night for this act, and instead had led the dragon to them during the day. Least they wouldn’t be losing sleep over this matter.

But what was done was done… She only hoped they’d come back to the camp with their pitiful find to Pinocchio and the kid back once more. The dragon lady had also offered her assistance, and they were quick to find the supplies they needed at least for one night, before heading back to their camp a couple or so hours later. She didn’t really know what time it was now but she was sure “late” was as accurate as she could get.

Grace withheld a sigh of relief on seeing the fire, eager to bask in its warmth, her relief growing on the sight she was met with.

Lampwick sat stoking the flames, with Pinocchio lying fast asleep next to him, his head on his boyfriend’s thigh. The child was equally passed out in the woodcarver’s hold, clinging onto his shirt. On any other occasion, she’d grin, wide and toothy, but tonight, all she could muster was a small smile… and a scoff.

“Wow. We’re out here doing grit work while you get to cuddle your boyfriend? Now how’s that fair, Lampwick?” She teased, her smile quickly fading when the man looked up. The lack of a sneer at her joke was the first thing she realised. And while it’d annoyed her when he’d get on her case for them, seeing the plain look on his face bothered her even more.

“Did you take your coat off?” Red chipped in before she could think about it further, the red-head shrugging.

“Wasn’ about t’ let him freeze.” is all he muttered, Grace’s eyes narrowing on seeing him stifling his own shivers. A certain bout of bitterness welled up at the reasoning for the man’s actions, but she was quick to quell it. In the past she might have dwelled a little longer on the feeling but she was both no longer a teenager nor was this the time and place for such matters right now. She willfully ignored it, watching on as Red stepped forward and held out a jacket she had picked up in the other camp. “I was able to find a salvageable coat from the camp for him if you’d-”

But Red’s comment was quickly cut off by Lampwick wrapping his arm even tighter around the man, glaring up at the group like an angered wolf.

“I can take it. He’ll wear mine.” he stated curtly, clearly not looking to argue. Red shrugged as she chucked the coat at him, the man almost letting it drop to the snow in his caution around the sleeping duo. The mare—previously sleeping next to him—jumped up onto the log, using her side to support the back of the sleeping woodcarver, while her charge pulled the coat over his shoulders. She heard him whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ to her, as he settled back down again. The rustle of the thickets, had Grace reaching into her pocket for a knife, letting out a sigh when Taliesin stepped out. She glanced back at Lampwick, surprised to see him still tense and watching the bard a little too warily for her liking.

“Where the hell were you?!” Regina demanded.

“No, don’t start, that’s not important.” Lampwick cut in, pulling attention away from the bard. “Did you guys find anything useful out there at all? Or are we sitting around the fire until the break of dawn?”

Grace couldn’t help but grimace as she looked down at what supplies they got. They didn’t find much that was salvageable. The tents furthest in the back were the ones in better shape, so they were quick to snag those. But food was scarce, tools even more so. Sure, this was nothing compared to the situation she and Lampwick found themselves in as pre-teens, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to work with. Okay, maybe a little easier given they were older and had more experience now, but still; they were in no shape to make any long journeys like this.

“Not a lot, but it should be enough to get us through the night.” she explained, nodding to the tents Lancelot was holding, “We’re gonna have to share a couple of the tents we were able to get and it’d be good if we stopped by a village tomorrow or something to resupply. Who’s gonna-”

“I’ll take it.” Lampwick interjected, the darker-haired maiden laughing unkindly.

“Right! After the shit you pulled the last time you took the shift? I don’t think so!” she scoffed, watching his gaze narrow.

“It won’t happen again. I can take it.” Lampwick insisted. Grace couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She had her doubts about that, but there was hardly any time to argue here. It was late and she wasn’t about to lose more sleep because the idiot decided to do something stupid. She’ll just have to deal with whatever drama his cranky ass self planned to throw at them come the morning.

With another shrug she watched the group disperse, The Evil Queen, Lancelot and the Prince working to set up the couple of tents alongside Pierrot. Red and the dragoness soon joined in after setting the supplies down next to the log nearby Lampwick. The fairy approached him, but drew to a halt when he pulled the woodcarver and child closer to his chest.

“I’ll keep ‘em with me too. Make sure they’re warm.” he explained.

Grace frowned, wondering if she was just imagining things or the man had gotten stiffer. Ignoring the signs, the bard next to her scoffed as he walked towards the red-headed man. “It would be wiser for our saviour to sleep some place more comfortable-”

Any words Taliesin might have had were silenced by the swiftness of Lampwick grabbing for the broken sword. As though synchronised, Iskra was quick to take his place in holding up the duo behind him as Lampwick stood before them, jabbing the blade at Taliesin before he could take another step closer. “Lay even a finger on either of them, and I’ll chop ‘em off.” the man hissed, pressing the jagged edge of the sword against the other’s chest.

Grace stiffened as she watched the bard take a step back, a careful look on his face and hands placidly held up before him in surrender. She looked to the taller of the two, noticing how Lampwick’s hand shook. Obscured by the hat and shadows cast by the fire and night, it was hard to say what his expression was, but she was sure she didn’t really need that to guess. Malvina, in spite of the sudden outburst, stepped forward again.

“Let me at least take-”

“No!” he snarled, still firmly holding the sword up at both of them, the rest pausing in their work on the camp. “They both stay with me for the shift. I don’t care what you think of that, you’re not taking ‘em from me. Back. The hell. Off!”

Grace’s eyes widened. She found herself suddenly faced with another feeling; one she knew all too well as much as she hated to admit it: Uncertainty… maybe even a little fear…. But Uncertainty was affirmative. She knew it was late… so maybe that had to be it, but since the incident with the bard earlier… She thought he had seemed distracted but originally thought she was just imagining things but now? Now she wondered just how much that thought held water.

When he looked around, Grace could see Lampwick’s teeth grounded together, the red-head refusing to move away from the man that lay behind him, as though he was shielding him from some invisible danger no one else could see. His little companion whickered quietly, but even that didn’t make him turn around.

“What is the matter with you?” Regina’s voice interrupted the still tense air, Grace letting out a breath as she whipped around to glare at her.

“Oh do be quiet, your majesty!”

The woman threw her hands up in the air, muttering something intelligible for the distance they were at as she turned back to what she was doing. Grace looked back at the red-head once more, his silent refusal to back off remaining. She didn’t like this. It was strange and wrong. All she could do was scoff, shooing at the duo equally as baffled next to her.

“Right. You heard the man! If he wants a guy to sleep on him all night I’d say let him. He can regret the stiff neck in his own time if that’s what he wishes, and we have a camp to finish setting up anyway if we want even a couple of winks before dawn.”

Taliesin huffed as he marched over to where Pierrot and the prince were working, Malvina only turning to look at the woman as she approached. She looked as worried as Grace felt, but there wasn’t a lot that could be done. All she could really do was drop a hand on the fairy’s shoulder and guide her away, watching Lampwick settle back down with Pinocchio and Bethan in his lap again from the corner of her eye.

She helped with the final set-ups, distracted by what had happened earlier but soon they had two large enough tents to sleep in. She watched the rest retreat into the tents, but couldn’t find it in herself to follow, as she looked back at the still burning campfire.

He hadn’t looked up since then, one hand on Pinocchio while the other toyed with something on his finger. The ring, she figured; it was the one thing she always noticed him playing with when he was distracted, ever since the betrothal. His pet humpbacked pony sat closely next to him and rested her head on his knee in silent comfort. Figaro had settled down on the log next to them, oblivious to all the tensions around them. She sighed, her hands deep in her pockets as she marched back over to the pit.

“Alright. What the hell was that about?”

Lampwick continued turning the ring around on his finger, His eyes never leaving the firepit. “None of your concern.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Really? You’re gonna play that game with me again, Wick? Start talking.” With one boot on the log she leaned closer, squinting all the more as Lampwick held his woodcarving boyfriend just a little closer. “It’s got something to do with Taliesin doesn’t it? What did he say to get your hackles raised?”

“Nothing!!” he hissed, up at her with a glare, before letting out a slow breath as he looked back towards the open fire, adding on just a little softer. “It’s nothing.”

Grace remained still, watching as the man turned the broken blade in his hand, tracing a finger over the hilt. She wasn’t about to give up, oh no. That was the last thing on her mind as she leaned closer with a hushed whisper.

“Is it really nothing…? Or do you just feel like you can’t talk here?”

“Some people simply use their eyes and ears more than you would think, my dear,” he sneered, Grace rolling her eyes. But when she looked back again, she saw how tightly the man’s brows were pulled down. Once again his hold remained tightly on the man in his arms.

It was always talking in riddles with him; it’s like he had no idea how to be upfront about anything at all. And it always pissed her off beyond measure. She huffed as she stepped off the log. Whatever. It was too late for this and she wanted to sleep. Whatever the man was trying to hide she’d have to deal with later.

“Okay, fine. If that’s how you wanna be then so be it. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

No response—not even a whisper—as she marched back towards the tents, hearing only a shuffle and the sound of small steps rapidly moving towards her. Grace looked back, seeing Iskra quickly catching up to her. She frowned at the young mare at first, glancing back at the red-head but the man had his gaze permanently fixed on the flames. To his mouth he held his pipe, smoking billowing from it. It was a surprise he even had anything to smoke, after the fire. Whatever. She shrugged, nodding towards the tents as she and Iskra took their leave. She didn’t know what he was playing at, but she’d be damned if she won't find out in the morning.

There was a time that Malvina had been used to little sleep. She ruled the nights back then, staying up from early dusk until the late dawn. Sometimes even longer. At times, even for two days. But after losing her wings, her ability to work until such times began to vanish. The changes were minimal but given how long she lived on this earth and wingless the more mortal she became. The blue-haired woman was much older now and with it came more sleep.

While it could have been worse, being woken up when she was last night, she felt the tug and need, despite the sun glaring down above them. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to will the tiredness away, enough to keep her focus about, even if she felt so sluggish.

The group had worked to pack up soon enough. The one good thing to come out of the exhaustion was the lack of complaints. For once the morning with this whole party was peaceful, and she was willing to enjoy that for as long as she could. With the last of their two tents now tucked away, Malvina looked to where the rest were.

“Do we have everything?” she called out, hearing someone grunt behind her.

“It’s not like we had anything to begin with!” Grace scoffed, fixing the bag she had on her to her back. “We’ll need to find a means to resupply because I don’t see us making it to Camelot with nothing to eat.”

“I believe there’s a village not far from Camelot, we should make it there by dusk. It’s not big, but I think we can find at least something to work with.” Lancelot chipped in, the blonde nodding as she straightened up.

“Well no time to lose then!”

Malvina sighed as she looked to the rest. Lampwick was once more sitting on the log, the pipe in his mouth smoking like a billowing chimney. Pinocchio stood by him, watching him curiously with one hand held out to him and the other holding tightly onto the toddler’s, who remained quietly at his side.

The child had yet to say anything, much less move from her spot next to him. And Malvina was sure after what had happened last night she had no plans on leaving his side any time soon. Lampwick wore the jacket that they had found amongst the wreckage in the other camp, with his fiancé sporting his. Her brows rose sympathetically as she watched Pinocchio pick absently at the pockets, once Lampwick stood by him. He looked so small, shuffling with discomfort in that jacket and she wondered how much of that was because the fit was much slimmer compared to what he was used to and how much because of the unfortunate tragedy that befell his father’s old coat.

She looked to her left when feeling something brush against her arm, smiling as Pierrot reached for her hand. Taliesin stood quietly close by but kept to himself. It was the one relieving thing today; Neither him, Lampwick or Regina had picked a fight yet, and she so greatly hoped it would stay that way. Well, no time to waste, she thought as she reached for the little bag her beloved was handing her.

“Wait, where are you going?” Red called out.

The fairy looked over curiously as she fixed her satchel to her side, seeing the dragoness stop and look back.

“Back to my cave? Seems all is sorted here, so-” she shrugged.

“I mean, what’s one more party member?” Red asked, looking back at the rest of the group. “We could use all the help we could get.”

“Why?” Lilith’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you trying to do here?”

“We’re trying to win a war. In a way.” Red exchanged a glance with the woodcarver, the man only offering her a shrug.

“Just you guys?” Lilith asked, looking thoroughly unimpressed as she glanced around at the rest. “Seriously?”

“No!” the red-caped dame exclaimed, “But we’re hoping to gain an advantage for our kingdom.”

“Uh-huh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that? I don’t exactly see how a group like yours, which includes kids on top of that, can exactly find any advantage in the war.”

“Watch it, I’m the prince.” Henry cut in, Lilith rolling her eyes at the statement.

“That changes nothing, kid.”

“Look,” Pinocchio started, “all you need to know right now is that we’re heading to Camelot and hoping to free Merlin. With him we do stand a better chance.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to help with that?”

“As…back up?” he finished lamely.

The woman scoffed, already turning and walking away. “Sorry, but I’ve better things to do than run across the realms on some suicide mission to talk to a man in a tree. So good luck on your little journey, have fun but I’m not interested.”

Red sighed as she called out. “Lilith, hear me out.”

“Whatever it is that’s about to come out of your mouth, you can keep to yourself, Red. I couldn’t give less of a shit.” Lilith retorted.

“When you were still a kid your mother had me promise to look out for you-”

“That was to my mother.”

“And ensure you were set on a better path than the one she ever had to walk. If there's any time to do something good it's right here and now.” Red continued in spite of the indignation, watching the woman hopefully.

Lilith seemed to consider her words for a moment, Malvina thinking that this may be what turned her around, only for the dragoness to laugh as she looked back and rolled her eyes up to the sky. “Look, I’m flattered you’re still thinking about that but the thing is? This isn’t my problem! I don’t care. I did what your mini accomplice here led me to do,” she gestured vaguely down at the toddler choosing to hide behind Pinocchio, “and thanks to that, your army problem’s cut down by, give or take, 500 men. What you do now is up to you. I’ll see you around.”

Malvina’s eyes narrowed as the woman stalked off once more, breaking away from where she stood by Pierrot and moved on after her. “If you think it’s not your problem, then you very much have not been paying attention to what’s been going on!”

Lilith scoffed. “And that’s not about to change.”

“His war doesn’t end with Royaume de Rose. The same way it won’t just end with Slavia, with Corona, Avonlea and it sure won’t end with Hochwasser either. Mordred seems to be after complete power over the whole realm, and there’s little he’s letting stand in his way to gain it. And what comes after that? Only the gods know. He’s willing to kill a fairy to get what he wants, and I’m sure it won’t stop at the fae. There’s little hope standing in the way of that man but at least there is some still around.”

The dragoness cast a brow upwards and started laughing again. “If you lot are the only hope that Hochwasser and the rest of us have, then I feel sorry for us all.”

“Why? Think you can do better than that? Why don’t you go ahead and prove it.” The queen called from behind, Malvina steeling her breath. Gods, here they go.

“I think I’ll pass.” Lilith scoffed.

“Oh what? Can’t be assed to dirty your claws a little?” Regina continued to sneer, “Don’t tell me Maleficent raised a coward.”

The dark-haired woman’s eyes narrowed, as she snapped. “Say that to my face one more fucking time!!”

“And what? You’ll burn me to ashes? I dare you to try.”

“Let’s NOT do that!!! Hasn’t our shit suffered enough?” Grace called from behind, but the queen didn’t relent as she reached Malvina’s side.

“Oh come on, she’s harmless, look at her.” she continued to taunt, smirking widely as she gestured at the seething woman behind her. “All bark and no bite. At least your mother was willing to show the realms that she had some fighting spirit left. And you’re just gonna go back into your little hovel and take a nap? You’re weak.”

“You failed to cast your curse!!” Lilith hissed, “So who’s really the weak one here?”

The queen only laughed. “Did I?! Maybe the queen in your realm here had, but that isn’t me, sweetie.” Her grin widened gesturing grandly as she looked around the whole group. “I am the real deal! I destroyed a whole kingdom’s worth of happy endings for twenty-eight years.”

Malvina resisted a shudder. To find pride in such an act despite claiming to be redeemed was well and truly something else. She wanted nothing more than to say something about the matter, but the queen turned around, looking back at the dragoness with disdain.

“And what have you done? What have you to show for the pride you carry yourself with, huh? Being Maleficent’s daughter means nothing if you’ve done jackshit with that title!”

“Stick around and you’ll find out, witch!!” Lilith snapped, hands curled into fists as she marched off. She turned back, glaring at the rest of their party. “Hello?! Are you lot moving, or what?! The tree man isn’t waking up by himself!!”

Huh. The blue-haired dame looked back at the queen, the woman smug as ever as she moved to follow. The rest of the group were soon picking up what meagre supplies they had on them and followed after. Malvina heard steps from behind, the woman shrouded still in her red cloak reaching their side.

“Thanks for the help.” Red sighed, the queen letting out a huff.

“I wasn’t helping. I was just sick of your whimsical magic of friendship talks and figured she was too.” she turned to her, sneering, “Maybe figure out what will actually motivate someone before trying your hand at it, wolfie.”

And with that she marched ahead, Malvina quickly reaching Red’s side.

“You did good,” she murmured, the red-caped woman smiling softly back at her as they moved to catch up to the rest.

Lampwick’s hands twitched in his pocket as he walked next to Pinocchio, the man occasionally glancing to the rest of the party in front of them. With the desecrated clearing behind them they had found themselves amongst the trees once more. A lot of the branches hung low, forcing the tallest of the group to duck under them at every corner.

The long night and the never changing background left the man’s eyes closing all the while he walked. Pinocchio looked unwilling to talk and Grace seemed equally distracted, given his previous attempts at any conversations resulted in two short responses and nothing else. Out of everyone there that left him with no one to talk to; The prince was up in the front leading the party alongside the knight, Red and her little dragon friend were walking behind them and the couple were just in front of them, hand in hand and talking amongst one another alongside the other bard. The queen was far to his left, like he preferred her to be. He glanced at his pony companion, who was—as always—carrying their cat, Figaro giving a mrrp! in acknowledgement when Lampwick clicked his tongue at him.

The red-head let out a grunt as he rubbed at the side of his face, like that would be enough to draw him out of his tiredness… and the ever growing amount of thoughts that continued to try and drown him. His eyes narrowed when Taliesin glanced behind, Lampwick trying so damn hard not to just walk ahead of Pinocchio just to keep those beady dark brown eyes off of him. Yet he relented. He didn’t need more unwanted attention from the woman next to him.

He was so focused on restraining his need to draw said attention that Lampwick had hardly any time to notice the branch until he walked right into it. He startled and whacked at the twigs he got a face full of, only for the branch to hit him a second time. The man grabbed it and dragged it down until it broke off, glaring at the tree that dared distract him. He heard a snort behind him, the rest of the party either withholding snickers or already chuckling. Even Pinocchio bit back a grin, Lampwick feeling his face and ears already burning but still resisting the urge to pout at the betrayal. With one final glance at the tree he slunk over to his partner, still sure his face was as red as he felt.

“You okay?” he heard Pinocchio murmur, the red-head rolling his eyes. He flashed the man a silly grin as they continued onwards.

The snickers soon calmed down, Lampwick once more left to the boredom previously killed by the attacking tree branch. The pout wormed its way onto his face as his body started aching for rest once more. Gods, he was regretting staying up a little now— maybe it would have been better if he had just let whoever else take the shift for him. But there was no going back on that now. He looked to his partner, spying the toddler walking quietly next to him, her gaze downcast on the floor. An idea hit him, and Lampwick swooped down and scooped the child up. Bethan yelped, flailing at first until he sat her on his shoulder. Pinocchio looked up in surprise as Lampwick settled his hands around the girl’s little feet, feeling the tension slowly ebb away. He glanced up and saw the surprise on her face, only for it to darken as she scowled down at him. Her hands balled into fists as she crossed her arms over her chest, the toddler looking away from him.

His grin dropped, Lampwick left pouting once more.

“If you’re planning on winning her over like that, then you’ve already lost.” Regina scoffed, the red-head’s annoyance growing as he sneered at her.

“Yeah? And what would you know about that?”

“More than you do, it would seem!” he looked to the left, seeing the blue-haired dame watching him with bemusement. “If you’re so rough with a child you won’t gain their trust by any means possible. She needs someone to be gentle and kind to her. Not treat her like some object.”

His eyes narrowed. Seriously? “I’m not treating her like an object!” he exclaimed.

“But you’re not gentle with her either.” Malvina pointed out, her gaze growing sympathetic. A part of him wanted to be annoyed about it but he really didn’t have much going for him. Suppose him just grabbing the runt like that didn’t help.

“Make yourself more approachable. Maybe you’re used to company that can take your brashness but she’s not one of them.”

He heard the comment but deigned a response, simply rolling his eyes at it. He looked down on feeling something brush against his arm, his lover smiling up at him.

“You’ll figure it out, love.” Pinocchio murmured. “Give it time.”

The brunette reached up, Lampwick hearing the toddler above him giggle and found his annoyance only growing. ‘Right, yeah, nice of you to rub it in,’ he thought, as the man moved away.

“Wait.” he heard the child above him whisper.

“What is it, Beth?” Pinocchio asked, Lampwick looking up as well. He watched how Bethan glanced around, her gaze wide and hands clasping tightly to his fingers. He stopped and turned around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe it was the wind?

He heard a growl behind him, the red-head seeing their black and white cat snarling on top of Iskra. Even the mare looked unsettled, though he wasn’t even sure by what. Realisation hit too late as the child, sitting on top of his shoulders, suddenly jerked forward, causing him to stumble right into Grace.

“Watch it!!” The woman grunted underneath as he worked to right himself again, looking back and seeing the man with an axe dug into the ground right where he had previously stood.

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed. “How the-” He found himself jumping back as another soldier lunged from behind him once more, hearing a terrified shriek behind him as he did so. He looked up to see Bethan struggling against the hold the man had around her.

“Hand over the sword and no one will get hurt!” he heard someone call from behind, the red-head looking around their group, seeing their attackers surrounding them all. He looked back at the toddler, his fists balling tightly as her holder laughed and readjusted his hold on the struggling girl to draw a knife to her neck. He heard a grunt next to him, Grace glaring up at the man in front of them with one hand still in her bag.

“You’ve your own blades, why would you need another?” Grace called out, earning a scoff from the man on their left.

“Don’t play dumb with us, lass. You know what we’re talking about!”

“Do we?!” Henry called out.

“The engraved broken blade your little peasant boy here possesses.” the man crooned, pointing the tip of his sword at Pinocchio’s chest and brushed it up right to his chin. Lampwick ground his teeth together, the whimpers from the child behind him along with watching his lover stiffen making his blood boil.

He wanted to reach for the knife in his pocket, but found himself unable to really move. One wrong choice and someone would end up dead. He glanced back at the toddler, seeing her grow limp in the man’s hold, but her scowl growing angrier. He knew they’d need to do something sooner, but right as he was about to turn and make a dive for the man still holding the child he heard a shriek before him. Lampwick whipped back, seeing the child having sunk her teeth into her captor's hand. That was all the opening he needed to reach for the knife in his pocket, grab and pull Pinocchio back, and slash the blade across his offender’s chest.

Chaos erupted, Lampwick hearing an explosion from somewhere behind as he ducked out of the way of the man’s strikes. Blocking another attempt to cut him, he kicked the man back, stealing the opportunity to look back at the rest. Predictably, both Queenie and the fairy seemed the most responsible for all of the explosives, one with her lover behind her as she shot a ball of light at anyone that got too close, and the other either setting people alight or putting them in some magical choke hold.

“Wick, to your left!” he heard Grace call, turning around just a little too late. The blade came in contact with his shoulder, Lampwick grunting at the sharp sting. He fell back, the wind knocked out of his lungs as his back collided with the dirt floor desperately shuffling to get out of reach of the man who raised his sword for another blow. His eyes screwed shut as he braced himself for the hit, only for it to never happen. He heard the man yelp and opened his eyes once more, Grace now planted between him and whoever it was she, presumably knocked down. In her hands she held a pair of short swords (When the fuck she managed to get her hands on them he didn’t know).

He exclaimed as someone ran at her from behind, the blonde spinning and plunging one of the swords into the man’s chest and kicking him back. She turned back just as swiftly, crossing the blades over to block the sucker she previously threw back. He could see her arms shaking as she held the man’s sword back, teeth ground together. Lampwick rolled over when someone ran past him, kicking his foot out and making them fall before they could go any further. He grabbed the dagger he spied in the man’s scabbard as he turned him over, and plunged it into his chest, grimacing at the spatter of blood on his hands.

“Grab the kid!!” he heard Grace call out, Lampwick wiping off what he could as he glanced back. Bethan, still holding up her canine looks, hopped around the dancing feet, one foot raised and seeming hurt. He grunted as he scrambled to his feet, taking the dagger with him as he lunged for the dog, and grabbed her by the scruff. She struggled at first but changed back, allowing the man to sit her on his shoulders. “Stay up there and don’t move!!” he grunted, a hiss leaving him and making him reach for where he had been struck. He glanced down at his hand still coated in blood, wondering just how much of it was his and how much the other guy’s. With a deep breath he looked up, searching the chaos for one face.

Spying the brunette holding off another man with the prince at his side he found himself a touch relieved. Well… the prince was holding him off more than his beloved; Pinocchio didn’t seem exactly sure what to do with the blade he was holding, despite their previous training sessions. Guess they still had a long way to go on that front. He noted the knight with Red and the dragon not far off from them but his attention was caught by the bard, cowering in the corner and out of the way of the fights.

“Behind you!!” Iskra cried in his head.

Shaken from his stupor he turned, hearing something topple behind him. Iskra stood below him, with the man laying under her hooves. She hopped off with a snort, casting a glance at the red-head. He gave her a thumbs up, patting the knees of the girls still sitting on his shoulders as he reached out for his dagger once more. But before he could even take another step into the fray, a guy swung an axe at him, effectively blocking his way. Lampwick cursed under his breath, before ducking out of the way of the blade again. Spying Iskra grabbing for the sword of the man she had just knocked down, he whistled at her, catching her ears pricking up in attention. He didn’t have time to say shit before the madman with the axe swung out again, the red-head hearing the child above him cry out as he did so. The axe was inches from his side this time, Lampwick feeling his heart up in his throat as he turned the dagger around in his hand. He grunted when the larger blade made contact with his flimsy choice of a weapon. Gods, he may have to take Arlekin’s bloody advice about getting a bigger blade for his travels.

“The fuck’s our plan, you guys?!” He called out, feeling his arms shake under the weight of the man’s axe against his petty little blade.

“Left!” he heard a call up above him, the red-head growling.

“Then do something ‘bout it, aye?!” he snapped at the toddler, feeling the weight from his shoulders move as Bethan jumped from him onto the other, a dog once more. He grunted, lips pursed together as he shoved the man he was still locked in with against a tree. He tripped back, reaching out and scruffing the toddler-turned-canine once more.

“Get closer to me!!” he heard the Evil Queen call out, a sarcastic comment ready on his tongue. As another blade barely grazed his other shoulder he jumped back, reaching for Grace’s arm the moment she was close enough. He looked back, seeing the queen’s hand held up above them and twist, the group engulfed in a cloud of dark purple smoke and the world before them vanishing.

The sudden transportation was bad enough to make Pinocchio stumble. He breathed in deeply as he glanced around at the rest of their party. They all seemed equally as bewildered as he had been but no one looked worse than that. His eyes met Henry’s, the boy looking startled even from afar. But he was unharmed, which was all that mattered to him. Seemed like they had all gotten out of that in one piece. Which left them with just one last thing.

“Where the hell are we?!” Red exclaimed, the queen dusting ash off of her dress.

“From the looks of it— we’re in the Dark forest.” Lilith called out from elsewhere, Pinocchio stiffening at the proclamation.

No way-

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“She’s not.” Regina scoffed,

“Are you out of your mind?!” Grace exclaimed, echoing the distress the woodcarver felt. Of all the places they could have ended up, this was the last one he wanted to be in. “Why did you drop us here?!”

“Hey! A thank you would be nice for getting you away from that mess!” The queen retorted, Grace scoffing.

“By dropping us in the middle of the one forest that’ll have you ripped to shreds at any given moment?! Give me a break!”

“Guys!!” Malvina shouted, Pinocchio whipping around as though he had been scolded as well. The woman was glowing brightly, sparks flying off of the aura around her as she glared at the group. “We’re achieving nothing with all this arguing, alright? What’s done is done. We’ll find a way to manage.”

He looked behind him on hearing a groan, seeing Grace already holding his fiancé up who looked very faint.

“Lampwick!” Pinocchio’s eyes widened as jumped to assist them.

The man was pale as snow with his body trembling; and the hold he had on the child sitting on his shoulders looked like it was moments from slipping. Beth whined above him, clinging onto his hands for dear life, as he draped over the blonde.

“What a drama queen.”

“Oh shut up, your majesty!” Grace quipped back at Regina, grinding her teeth together as she held up the man’s weight. “Can someone take the kid-”

Pinocchio immediately reached out and took the toddler off of Lampwick’s shoulders, the man letting himself sag against Grace’s instead. “You okay?” he asked quietly, reaching out and carding a hand through the red mess of hair.

Lampwick breathed out a chuckle as Grace set him upright once more. “Never been better.” he grunted, the woman’s hold not relinquishing as he stumbled backwards. Pinocchio held a hand out, adding a little extra support as Lampwick steadied himself.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” Grace muttered, her palm red as she pulled away from him. The woodcarver’s breath hitched at the gash on his fiancé’s arm, the red-head huffing in surprise.

“Yeah, seemed the sucker didn’ just nick me.” Lampwick winced, his expression contorting with pain as he reached to wave off Grace’s hand. Pinocchio set Beth onto the ground and shrugged off his jacket. The brunette reached for his lover’s knife and tore into the sleeve of his shirt before wrapping it over the man’s wound.

“It’s not bad, but we do need to get it treated.” Pinocchio murmured, eyes still stuck on the bandaged arm, brushing his thumbs around the injury. He felt the cold nip at his shoulder where half of Lampwick’s coat no longer concealed it, but he couldn’t care less. A small hand, still covered in blood, lay over his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey who knows, maybe a kiss could make it better.” he heard the man above him mutter, Pinocchio withholding a scoff on seeing him wink. He felt something cling to his cloak and, on fixing the coat back on, he picked the toddler up once more, settling her on his side.

“Hello? Was anyone listening to me?!” The prince called out. The brunette turned around to where the prince stood, noting the grim expression on the young boy’s face. “I’m not the only one that thought that was weird, right?”

“What are you talking about?” The dragoness frowned.

“How did they know we have it?”

“No, the prince is right. How did they know about the sword? That wasn’t- that shouldn’t be information they’d have, should it?” Pierrot asked, Pinocchio shaking his head. No, that wasn’t something they could have known about. He subconsciously reached out for the broken blade still strapped to his side.

Taliesin let out a breath as he shrugged. “Guess word travels fast with them?”

“How? And from who?!” Lampwick ground out with his eyes narrowing. “Red, did you mention the sword in those letters-?”

“No! What’s a sword got to do with all of this anyway?”

“Maybe they just assumed, given Mordred doesn’t have it.” The bard chimed in once more, remarkably unfazed.

“So they see a random group of travellers and think they must have some magical sword? I call bullshit!” Lampwick exclaimed, Pinocchio stepping up as he reached for his fiancé’s arm.

“Stand down, this really isn’t the time-” he started, his soothing halted by Taliesin speaking up once more.

“Sire, I hardly blame the enemy for obtaining word of it, given how sudden your absence from the village was and how quickly word of the sword got around there. It was only a matter of time.”

Pinocchio groaned as the red-head pulled out of his hold, the woodcarver already seeing how swiftly he’d fallen prey to the easy provocation. His hold on the toddler tightened.

“Lampwick, don’t-”

“Oh and you had nothing to do with that, huh?! It was you that started spouting the rumours, don’t play fucking innocent wit’ me! For all we know, you had been the one to snitch to the enemy in the first place!!”

“Lampwick!!” Pinocchio shouted, the taller man looking over. The woodcarver’s shoulders fell, his brows furrowed and mouth pulled downwards. “Please…” he beseeched softly.

There was a flare of what looked like sadness that blazed across his lover’s face. But it was quickly replaced by nothingness. Pinocchio almost thought it to be his imagination given how quickly it had passed, letting out a quiet breath when the red-head shouldered past him. He never took any enjoyment in moments like this, but infighting right now wouldn’t help anyone involved. Yes, he could agree that having a snitch among them wasn’t something he liked. It left them more vulnerable than they needed right now. But figuring out who it was proved difficult when they didn’t have enough evidence to start pointing fingers. Save for Red, but that was unlikely. The Queen, perhaps, but if she claimed she was trying to do better, why would she squander her chances like this?

Bethan’s hold around his neck tightened, the woodcarver giving her a small apologetic look in response.

“You must be awfully whipped for your lover boy, if he's the only one you'll take orders from.” Taliesin piped up once more.

Pinocchio’s frown twitched downwards, hearing the steps behind him stop. He dared glance behind, but saw that Lampwick’s back remained turned to him, though his hands were starting to shake. The woodcarver carefully reached out, pulling back when Lampwick jerked his hand away from him. As upsetting as it was, guess it was wiser to let him be for now.

“If you two are done with your petty cat fight, can we get moving already?” The queen chipped in.

“She’s right, guys. We’re losing daylight and are stuck in the Dark Forest.” Henry spoke up, straightening further when the attention landed on him. “It’d be in our best interest to keep moving.”

No one took to arguing with the prince thankfully; most nodding or murmuring their agreements. Lampwick—having shaken his arm out of the woodcarver’s hold—stood silently next to him, his eyes only stuck on the bard.

A cough caught his attention, Grace rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Actually while we’re here, could we maybe drop by our place?”

“Weren’t you just offended by us being here?!” Regina asked, the maiden shooting her an immediate sneer.

“I think being magically transported to the Dark Forest of all places would cause some outrage, don’t you think?”

“So why the change of heart?”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know!”

Pinocchio couldn’t help but sigh as the bickering continued. He wasn’t sure how he could have expected anything else out of this.

The queen huffed. “Actually I very much do, given the mere hairs we just escaped by and now you’re asking for another delay!”

“Piss off!” Lampwick’s voice rang out from behind, having turned back to the group instead. “What’s she got to do with that ‘uh?!”

“I just think that we should continue without any further distractions!”

“No one’s asking for what ya think, your majesty, just get us to that house!” Lampwick continued to snap, Pinocchio pinching the bridge of his brow. The gods preserve them.

“What exactly did you want from there?” He asked, the glare Grace had fixed on Regina ebbing away. Yet her frown remained.

“Well given the situation we’re walking into I figured I could grab a few more of my essentials so we’re ready,” she explained. “I can get his arm treated there too, so we don’t have to worry about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Pinocchio mused. He was sure whatever they could get their hands on, would prove useful. Least there was a higher chance of them getting out of it alive… he hoped at least. And he was sure the maiden had some healing potions lying around somewhere, and goodness knew what else. Not to mention it’d be good to not worry about his lover’s arm growing infected along the way. He knew the man wouldn’t accept a magical method of healing, but he knew he’d be unable to sleep if they didn’t get that seen to fast. His sleeve was only a temporary bandage to stop the bleeding until they found something better and cleaner. He looked to the prince, Henry giving him a silent nod of agreement.

“It’s not far, we could probably get there by foot.”

“It may be better if we travel by teleportation.” Lancelot interjected, “The path may be the safest during the day but that doesn’t make this forest any less dangerous than how it is in the night.”

“Lancelot is right. Best we get through this as fast as possible.” Pinocchio nodded. Grace looked ready to argue, something he wouldn’t have held against her knowing what would come of this, but was relieved when she stepped off to the side and firmly held onto his fiancé instead. He let out a breath as he readjusted his hold on Bethan, giving Regina a quick nod.

Annoyed as she may have seemed, she took to the centre once more with nothing but an added huff. “Hold on to your ragdoll there, yeah?”

“Just get us to the gingerbread house.” Grace huffed, Pinocchio noting the surprise on the queen’s face. Yet she chose to say nothing. Instead, she reached out, letting the rest take her hand, as they were all wrapped up in a dark cloud of purple smoke.

Lampwick didn’t even bother to brace himself this time around. He knew what was coming the second the spell warped their surroundings. One moment they were in the forest, next thing he knew he was seeing doubles of a cottage and the rest of the party. The man’s eyes rolled back as he leaned against his partner, breathing deeply in and out through his nose, and waiting out the horrible dizziness that came with every teleport. It felt worse than the last time, he was sure, his insides turning as he wondered if each warp would get harder to deal with. ‘Manageable side-effect’, that fairy’s bard said. Yeah right. If this was “manageable” by his standards then Lampwick wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was a worse one.

“Wickers?” a woman’s voice echoed, accompanied by a hand on his arm. “You still with me?”

“Sure.” he slurred, eyes still drawn shut. Just need the world to stop spinning. A cold hand touched his clammy cheek, before moving to comb through his curls. He couldn’t help but hum and lean a little into the touch, the action somewhat soothing.

“Do you want to sit down?” he heard Pinocchio whisper. Lampwick contemplated the suggestion for a moment, but feeling like his knees would give way any moment he relented, letting the woodcarver guide him down to the cold forest floor. He remained reclining next to him, eyes still shut as he waited for the dizziness to finally stop.

“Light that torch there!” he heard Grace call out, the blackness behind his shut eyelids looking a little brighter. “I’d like for us to not get attacked a second time, you know? And stay close by. Don’t need anyone getting dragged into the woods.”

“How in the world did you manage to find this damn place?” He heard the queen ask, scoffing in unison with Grace above him.

“Take a wild guess, your majesty.” he heard the blonde sneer, “Did you think the fatherless kids wouldn’t find each other eventually? After you ripped their families apart.”

“That wasn’t me here.”

“But you don’t deny it, do you? That you dropped Hansel and Gretel off where you did. That you killed their father-”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t do it here, right?!” Grace filled in, sounding angrier. “But do you deny that you did it anyway!?”

Silence met her words, followed by steps moving away. The hair petting never stopped, but it did seem to slow a little. The strokes grew softer, as though he was barely touching him, Lampwick finally daring to look up, and saw what he expected to see.

Pinocchio’s gaze was trained ahead, staring at the house made of stale bread and sugar, looking almost lost. He was just about to ask him if he was okay, until-

“You guys never told me you were living in the Dark Forest,” the woodcarver asked quietly, his gaze meeting Lampwick’s. The man could only shrug as he shut his eyes once more.

“And in the Blind Witch’s house no less.” he heard the fairy adding in.

“The witch wasn’t there by the time we got here.” Grace explained, her voice growing louder as she continued, “And Wick knew you wouldn’t take it well, Pinocchio. Besides, we found a way to manage until father finally came back.”

“Great. So how about you go and get whatever it is you came here for so we can move on?” the grating voice of the queen reached his ears once more, “Don’t worry, your mannequin can recover in that time.”

“Actually I’m taking my mannequin with me, if you please.”

He frowned at Grace’s response, feeling another hand grip his shoulder.

“And why would you need to do that?”

“His boyfriend just used his sweaty ass sleeve as a makeshift bandage, isn’t that reason enough?”

If he could roll his eyes he would. Instead, the red-head sat by quietly, breathing deeply in and out. At least the nauseating dizziness was finally gone.

“Point taken,” he heard the queen say and sighed.

Lampwick picked himself off of his fiancé, feeling the woodcarver’s hold firmly on his shoulders as he moved to stand up. With a final breath he dared straighten up, ignoring the way his hands still shook, as he grabbed a hold of Grace’s shoulder and marched her forward.

“Come on.” he muttered, walking them both towards the house.

Grace hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath in until she shut the door behind her and found herself letting out a long sigh of relief. Lampwick marched past her, the blonde hearing him mumble something about the general state of the place as he marched up to the stairs. They were back here again. Back… home.

It was just how she remembered it, weirdly enough. The house still smelt of cookie batter and strawberry frosting, the walls built of gingerbreads and gumdrops that didn’t seem to mould and rot. The table was still holding that plate of cupcakes it had since they got here. The oven, though empty, was still in good condition; unrusted and clean. The stairs leading up to the attic, that the two of them turned into a makeshift bedroom, she was sure would still hold their weight even now. She figured the house wouldn’t be standing any more, especially with how much time had passed. Hell, when she and Lampwick showed up here the first time after finding the twins she had her doubts about the house being habitable at all. And yet… seemed, despite the witch no longer living here, her magic held up very strongly. It was kinda creepy… but also very relieving.

While she didn’t particularly like going to this forest—given all its dangers—she knew the path to this house was worn from how often she did find herself coming here. Whether the air in Collodi proved stifling or being around her father made her feel… uneasy, it was strangely enough a good escape place. Though unsafe on the outside that didn’t bother her, not even now. For a moment, just like any other times when she stood inside these walls, she found herself relaxing completely and able to ignore what was waiting for them outside. And her chest tightened at that reminder.

Grace wanted to stay where she was and never leave. To lock herself and Lampwick inside and never step out again; just… wait this whole ordeal out until it was all over. Every moment with this whole group was growing more and more suffocating. Lampwick was his own brand of unbearable but she knew how to deal with him at least. But since everything that happened last night and earlier she found herself growing more and more wary. More and more… afraid.

With another breath she marched away from the door, following after Lampwick.

“Take your shirt off, let me see what you did.” she exclaimed as she shoved back the spiralling thoughts and approached the man. Lampwick let out a huff as he sat down on the step and took the layers off. Grace frowned, unimpressed. Gods, why was she the only one with a brain in this dynamic? She propped her hand on her hip, gesturing to the bench just behind her. He sighed and clambered back to his feet before sitting down on that.

Sometimes she wondered if this man ever planned on growing up.

Grace rolled her eyes as she stepped closer, carefully unwrapping the cotton fabric around his arm. She peeled the cloth off, grimacing at the smeared blood all across the cut and around it. It didn’t look too deep, thankfully, but she was sure it would scar, eventually fading to match the rest of the old injuries he carried on his arms and back.

Unless… she reached into her pocket, looking down at the little bottle in her hands. “Guess you don’t want me to use the potions, huh?”

“If you want to keep them intact you’ll keep that shit away from me!” he hissed, Grace pulling the bottle far away from his reach.

“Alright, okay! Keep your head on, it was just a suggestion.” she retorted as she reached for the water jug.

“You should know the answer!”

She scoffed as she filled up a bowl with water, grabbing a clean rag and some cloths along the way before moving back to the table and started carefully dabbing at the injury. She felt the man flinch under her touch, but that didn’t stop her from continuing to press at the blood, washing it away. Her scowl hardened as she pulled away and set the bowl down, procuring the clean strip of linen she found and carefully began bandaging the wound.

“You’ve been prickly since last night.” She stated, as she tied the knot, “You mind telling me what the hell’s got your hackles up, Wick?”

“Is that what you called me here to do? Interrogate me?”

“Oh yeah that’s precisely what I came here to do and ignore the damned cuts on your arm, right?” she sneered. The man only huffed as he got back onto his feet and marched towards the stairs.

“I just want to understand why you’ve been so cagey and distracted.” she persisted, as she followed him upstairs.

“I’m just being cautious.” she heard him say once they reached the top, the woman scoffing once more.

“Really now?! That’s your answer?! You threatening to cut someone’s fingers off if they so much as breathed near Pinocchio last night is your definition of “being cautious”?!”

She flinched as she found herself with a face full of spider’s web, grimacing as she hastily wiped that off. Well… guess the magic didn’t stop the house from showing some semblance of neglect.

“Oh what?” Lampwick mumbled, swatting at a particularly low cobweb. “What’s the problem with that, aye? You saw what Taliesin did back there. He was ready to get at both ‘im and the kid!”

Grace’s brows narrowed.

“So this is about Taliesin, right?” she asked as she walked over to the chest of drawers in the far corner and started digging through it. She undid her backpack, placing in a couple of potions, her frown growing deeper the more the silence behind her persisted. “Gods, Lampwick stop being so avoidant of the matter, what is going on?!” She crossed her arms over her chest as she turned around, pushing the drawer shut from behind.

Lampwick was scrounging the wardrobe, Grace seeing the jacket she had found on a dead soldier laying discarded by his feet.

“Well?” Grace tried again, as he shouldered on a new jacket and gave a huff.

“Don’t you have better things to do? Like find the shit you dragged me into this house for?” he retorted.

Grace’s shoulders fell, her expression falling as the man trudged back towards the steps. “Why do you keep doing this?” she asked quietly as she ground her teeth together. She marched after him, as she called out, “What’s so hard about being upfront for once?!”

“Cause it’s none of your business!!” he snapped back.

“It becomes my business when you thrust a broken sword in my direction!” Grace grabbed for his arm, the man swatting her away.

“That wasn’t at you!”

“It was at all of us!!” she exclaimed, Lampwick letting out a scoff. “Talk to me, please!!”

“Grace-”

“Please!!” she begged loudly again, Lampwick throwing his cap down.

“Gods above, Grace! Any louder and I’m sure even the rats in th’ floorboards’ll hear ya!”

“Well maybe they’d be more cooperative than the piper that’s drawing their attention!!” she shouted again, her eyes narrowed. “Start talking!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!! He’s just—” He faltered, refusing to even look at her.

Her patience had long since run thin, and seeing the man struggle to get the words out only served to make her more frustrated. “Spit it out!!!” she exclaimed, seeing the red-head’s brows knit tightly together.

“There’s just something odd about him, okay?!”

Grace’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…” The man ran a hand through his hair, practically tugging at it as he shuffled. “when I shoved him against the tree he had this, like, look. And, I don’t know, the feeling he had about him was… familiar.”

Her brows arched up. “Familiar?”

“I don’t know, Grace! I can’t answer cuz I don’t know, it just felt wrong!”

Her arms dropped to her sides. Truth be told, she didn’t know what to expect out of this. A part of her had hoped he was just holding a petty grudge but this was even more incomprehensible. This was vague even by Lampwick’s standards. Of course, she didn’t like the bard herself, his aloof attitude at times made him frustrating to talk to. But it never left her with any feeling? At least, she… never paid attention to any? She felt… uncomfortable after his attack now, sure, but… Gods has she really not been paying enough attention to catch anything?!

“A feeling isn’t enough, Lampwick.” she quietly commented, the man letting out a laugh.

“You think I don’t know tha?!” he roughed at his hair once again as he shoved past her to the other side of the attic. “It’s why I don’t want this conversation t’ happen! Just leave it. Let’s find what you need and go.”

Grace hummed softly as she walked after him, shuffling through the various drawers. Her brows furrowed as she opened every last one, before moving to the next. She huffed as she started her search there, her movements growing rushed the longer she looked. Gods, where was it?

“You know, I don’t trust any of them.” she mused out loud.

“Huh?” The man grunted behind her.

Grace hit the cabinet as she shut it, pouting before she darted to the wardrobe. “Look I’m—I’m with you on this. There’s something going on and the fact that that squadron showed up moments after we had that army burned down— There really might be something going on here. But I can’t point fingers at any specific individual.” she turned around, seeing the red-head watching her curiously. She held the gaze a little longer before looking away, realising then just how hard she was digging her nails into the handles. “Have you noticed anything about any of them at all?” she asked, daring to look back again.

Lampwick scratched at his head, seemingly giving her words thought (for once). “Well there’s that whole thing with Red’s letters if that’s anything. That bard weirdo though. I’m telling you, something’s off there.”

“But why is the same guy that came to warn us seemingly leading us to our doom?” Grace pointed out. “That makes no sense.”

“Have you seen him? Nothing about that guy makes sense. Fucker shows up and calls a woodcarver the saviour of a whole kingdom after seeing one broken sword attached to his belt. Doesn’t even consider any other possibility for why he had it.”

Grace shrugged.

She didn’t think it abnormal for people to make ridiculous presumptions like so. And from what she gathered, that whole kingdom was full of idiots like this; given they all shunned a child, claiming she was “cursed” due to her heritage. It was pretty fucking stupid. Abandoning the wardrobe, she moved closer to the drawer Lampwick was standing at, as she spoke: “Well what about the queen?”

“She could have decimated us in our sleep already. You’ve seen her magic yourself.”

“She could be biding her time.”

“Are you suddenly a queenie expert?”

“No! I’m just– going off of what we’ve heard in the past.”

“Gods know how much of that was baseless rumours. B’sides, that was our queen. Remember, this one’s different.”

“Let’s be real here, how much different could she possibly be? She literally admitted to cursing the kingdom.” The blonde couldn’t help but scoff, rolling her eyes when Lampwick only gave a ‘eh!’ and a shrug. Helpful as always. She looked up at him, her arms crossed over her chest. “We can’t just remove the possibility that she could still try and hurt us.”

“S’ppose.” the man muttered, as she turned around and started rummaging. “You think she might have something to do with it?”

“Hold this.” she passed him a bottle of liquid, hearing it clink against the other bottles inside her backpack. And yet the one item she was trying to find was nowhere to be found.

“Honestly I’m still placing my bets on Taliesin, Ace.”

Hearing the man’s words, Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “Gods you’re obsessed with him. Maybe Pinocchio should be the one worried about Taliesin getting too close to you.”

“Piss off?! I’m telling you there’s something wrong with that guy!” he exclaimed, turning even redder than before. “I just don’t want him anywhere near Pinocchio.”

Grace sighed as she shut the drawer. “Well I’d say we keep ‘n eye on all of them. See if we can’t figure something out.”

“Honestly that doesn’t sound like a bad idea. What exactly are ye looking for?”

“Ugh, you know what!”

A pause. “Wouldn’t it be back in Collodi?”

“No, I moved it back here months ago.” she breathed out, as she opened the wardrobe again. “Stashed it somewhere no one can find it.”

“Not even you?”

Wooooow someone got his sense of humour back. She rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Lampwick. Tell me, how's the search for your dignity going?”

“Fuck you.” The scowl he gave made her smile wider.

She paused, her eyes widening. She tapped the side of her forehead as she backed away from the wardrobe, and ran back downstairs. She reached the oven, feeling the wall around and below it. She was sure Lampwick was watching her but she didn’t care. She knew it had to be here somewhere, it just had to be. Come on, come on, one of these had to be- one of the stones shifted at her touch, the woman grinning widely as she carefully eased it out along with another. She reached inside, her eyes lighting up.

“Tada!!” she held up a cylindrical object, the inside of it swirling like the night sky. “Open the bag.” she called out, Lampwick flipping the flap back as he walked over, letting her drop a couple of orange dust filled bottles into the backpack.

Lampwick frowned. “Sleepless potions too?”

“I—” She paused before shrugging. “I have a feeling that we’re going to need them.”

“If you say so!” Lampwick shrugged as well when she pulled her hand away. She couldn’t help but frown as the flap fell over the opening, covering the hidden contents of her bag once more. “Alright. All set?”

Grace said nothing. She couldn’t! That feeling; that deep, sinking feeling hit her like a stone falling to the bottom of her stomach and left her almost frozen in place; her lungs unable to catch a breath and making her feel light-headed. Her gaze had yet to turn away from the bag and what had just put in there with her hand still hovering above it.

Was she all set? She wasn’t sure anymore. She felt even less sure now than when she first came in.

Despite laughing at him, despite questioning the shit he brought up, she couldn’t help but have second thoughts about what Lampwick had said. And for a moment she couldn’t trust herself to step back out there again and be near the man the red-head was most bothered about. Be anywhere near any of them actually. The mere thought of opening that door and continuing onward made her feel suddenly so nauseous and yet she couldn’t quite figure out why. Something was wrong, that much was sure, but… keeping them both in here felt so much safer than stepping out there.

“Grace?” The man’s voice had the woman’s gaze whipping around. Lampwick watched her silently, his eyes narrowing as she stared back. Gods, what is she doing?

Grace quickly pulled her hand back as she took a deep breath before shaking her head with a laugh. “Sorry, yeah.”

The man’s frown deepened, lips twitching as though he was going to say something. But before he could even consider anything to say their conversation was cut short by a loud shriek coming from outside. It was quickly followed by a snarl, making the blonde stiffen. She knew that sound all too well. And from how rigid and horrified Lampwick looked, she was sure he knew too.

“Shit! Pinocchio-!” he bounced past her and threw the door open, leaving Grace in the midst of the shock and realisation.

Of course, how could she have forgotten who that man’s first priority was?

The thought was bitter and sudden, but was quickly replaced by immediate guilt. It’s been years.. She should be over this, she was over this. Why now? Maybe she was just tired, really. The woman shook her head. There were far more important things to do than meltdown over shit she hadn’t thought about since she was twenty. She looked down at the case in her hand, its weight a comfort sitting in her hand. She sighed again, eyes closing as she closed her palm around the object, feeling the gentle pulsing aura underneath her hand where she knew the top was. With another breath she dropped it into her pocket, her expression numbing as she followed in pursuit of the red-head. No wasting time on feelings… They had a job to complete. And she’d be damned before she left both of those two fools to continue without her. Gods know what they’d get up to if she wasn’t around, afterall.

The rustle of the undergrowth made Pinocchio stiffen, only for a crow to fly out from inside it. He couldn’t help but feel antsy as their wait continued, each sound making him feel more and more nervous about standing around. Yet he knew they had no choice but to wait. He was sure it wouldn’t take much longer, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what they were doing in there. Perhaps Grace had found some extra supplies they could take for the journey; that wouldn’t be all that bad to have.

Another rustle had him stepping just a little closer to the lit torches, hearing a heavy sigh nearby.

“This is taking too long.” Regina grunted behind the brunette.

Pinocchio looked behind him, seeing most either pacing or holding quiet conversations with one another. Lancelot was next to the prince, one hand over his sword and gazing over the undergrowth every moment he turned back to face it. Red and her dragon friend stood closer to the house, whispering amongst one another. Taliesin stood off to the side, far from the rest of them but still within range of the torches. Speaking of the torches, Malvina’s gaze hadn’t left them, and while she seemed composed, he could see how tersely she was holding her hands. Pierrot stood by like a silent pillar of assurance next to her; one moment he was playing on a flute, the next he was looking up at the queen.

“Keep your patience, your majesty,” he chimed in.

The queen glared at him. “They’re taking years trying to get whatever it is they’re looking for! And we haven’t got a whole day’s worth of journeying to get to that village. And I’m sure none of you want to be stuck out here after dark.”

“As soon as they’re out we can go. But until then, we’re going to wait.” Henry exclaimed.

The woodcarver could see the teen’s foot tapping on the ground. Seemed he wasn’t fond of the current wait either. The queen’s annoyance didn’t rest either as she turned her back to the cottage and marched off away from the rest of the group instead.

Pinocchio could only sigh as he sat down on the doorstep, Iskra quickly hopping over to his side along with Figaro. He smiled as the feline made himself at home in his lap, kneading into his leg and relaxing. He spotted Bethan standing relatively close by and paying little attention as she fiddled with the furs of her coat. He frowned.

“Hey, don’t you have your toy with you?” He called out, seeing her stiffen as though she had been caught doing something wrong. Shoulders remaining hunched, the toddler shuffled silently, eyes dropping to the floor.

Pinocchio tilted his head to the side, trying again. “Did you lose it?”

“I think it burnt.” Bethan mumbled, the man’s brows furrowing.

O h. Suppose he wasn’t the only one to lose something important last night.

“Shouldn’t have led the beast towards us then, huh?” Taliesin called out, Pinocchio breathing in deeply. Perhaps it was a blessing Lampwick had gotten injured and had Grace drag him inside. Breaking up yet another spat between both of them was something he’d like to avoid, personally.

“Be careful, that ‘beast ’ has ears, you know.” Lilith called out, shooting the bard a glare.

Another sigh left the brunette. He turned back to the kid, her large eyes already welling up despite her attempts to hide it. His expression softened as he reached out to the girl, cocking his head to the side in hopes of catching Bethan’s gaze.

“Hey, chin up, kid. We can still fix this.” he assured with a smile. Bethan sniffled as she looked up, rubbing at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. His smile widened as she took his hand, letting him pull her closer. “How about this? If we find some good wood where we settle tonight, I’ll show you how to make something new. Would you like that?”

Even if there was no smile on her face, the rapid nod and wide-eyed look was enough to tell him that the idea was well-received. His heart ached warmly, thinking back to a time when his father had first taken up to teaching him how to work with his tools long before his passing. He was sure papa had received an equal amount of joy back then the way he had just now.

He suddenly found himself longing for that touch again… his chest aching harder as he realised he couldn’t even feel the weight of the leather coat on his back anymore. He knew they never liked him eavesdropping but he wondered if this was how his father felt after he lost his parents… every time he and Jiminy got into spats over the matter. Whether he had also yearned for something with them again… no matter how small it might have been. He gave the child a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, a simple reassurance for her but also his subtle attempt at comforting his own self; selfish as it felt to do.

“Pinocchio, that’s hardly safe for a toddler!” Malvina cut in, the woodcarver seeing the horrified look on her face.

“My father, he-” he cleared his throat, hoping the shake it seemed to have won’t be notable, “h-he showed me how to carve with a knife when I was around her age, Malvina. I’ll be holding the knife with her.” At Bethan’s little demands to be picked up as he hoisted her up onto his lap, much to Figaro’s displeasure who hopped off. She giggled when Iskra drew closer and nuzzled her cheeks, the child huddling closer to the man. He smiled sadly and glanced up at the fairy. “Please trust me on this.”

Malvina looked ready to protest, but her words were cut off by a shriek. Pinocchio was immediately up on his feet the rest also turned where the noise came from. Taliesin backed away towards a tree far from the light circle. Cornering him was what looked like a large rodent, dark pelted tendrils of what looked like smoke fuming off of its body. Its attention was entirely on the bard, crooning almost curiously up at him.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, get back into the light, you fool!” The queen called out.

“It won’t leave me be!!” wailed the bard.

“Just move around it, it’s not hurting you!!”

And yet the bard still refused to move. The curious beast edged closer, giving him another sniff, though that was too close for the bard’s liking, as he kicked out at the animal. The dark creature shrunk back, startled. Its calm demeanour shifted to aggression, as it snarled up at the bard, dark frills on its cheeks flaring out. As the bard yelped and jumped back, Pinocchio heard the door get thrown open behind him. He barely leapt out of the way as Lampwick jumped down the stairs, eyes on the commotion. He grabbed one of the torches and ran to where the bard remained cornered, swinging the flame in front of the creature’s face. It screeched in terror, the frills on its cheeks flaring out as it hissed at the red-head. But Lampwick didn’t relent as he brandished his fiery weapon, even bringing his foot down right before it and glaring down at it. The beast took off into the dark of the forest yet Lampwick didn’t move from where he was. The noise died down, the forest growing dead quiet around them once more.

Pinocchio moved to reach his fiancé, afraid for a moment that he had been hurt again, only for the man to turn around and grab Taliesin’s arm before shoving him back into the light.

“What the hell?!” the red-head snapped, the torch still held firmly in his other hand. “The light’s over here, is it that hard to stay in it for you?!”

The door closed behind Pinocchio and made him jolt, seeing Grace looking out at the rest.

“Is everyone alright?!”

“Yeah they’re fine, just some here can’t understand basic fucking instructions!” Lampwick called out, issuing another glare at Taliesin before marching back to where the woodcarver stood.

In a matter of seconds, the red-head had looped his arm around Pinocchio’s and was pressing up against him with nothing but a scowl on his expression as he eyed the rest. The brunette smiled softly and moved his hand to interlace around Lampwick’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. The scowl melted, leaving the man relieved. But when he looked over at Grace who was still hovering around the door, his expression fell once more.

The unwavering confident air she had walked into that house with was gone, the woman seeming lost as she moved down the steps. Her brows were knit downwards hard enough that her forehead was creasing and mouth pursed in a tight-lipped frown as she walked down, hands stuck deep in her pocket. She had yet to look up. It wasn’t a look Grace would wear often; and between that and Lampwick’s sudden, dare he call it, clinginess, he couldn’t help but worry.

“Are you okay?” he asked, Grace’s eyes finally flicking upwards. Her frown quickly melted away, but the forlorn look in her gaze had yet to fade entirely, even as she nodded.

“Yep! Got all we needed, we can get going.” She explained, moving around and taking up Lampwick’s right side, linking her arm with his much to the man’s bafflement. Pinocchio’s lips pursed together, seeing the blonde’s smile falling, clearly unaware that he was looking. Just what was going on?

“Couldn’t take any supplies for us, now could you?” Regina asked, Grace giving a shrug.

“I got gold and it’s not like we’d find much here that isn’t spoiled or unusable. We’re gonna need to restock elsewhere.”

“That’ll be our next stop then.” Lancelot chipped in.

Lampwick sighed, rolling his eyes back as the group stepped closer together. “Let’s get this over with then.”

Pinocchio smiled sympathetically, pressing just a little closer to him as Regina flicked her hands upwards, purple smoke consuming the whole group.

Pierrot had never been more relieved to leave a forest behind compared to right now. The moment they had reached the town he found himself immediately relaxing… maybe a little less than the red-head who’s tolerance to each use of the transportation spell seemed to weaken by the minute. At least he was given a moment to recover while both himself and the young miss, Grace, stopped by the blacksmiths and bakery. It certainly wasn’t as much as what they had when they first left Collodi, but it was an improvement compared to last night. By the time they had finished the sky had grown dark, the group collectively agreeing (for once) to stay at the inn for the night. But at the first break of light, and the chime of the giant grand clock tower outside of the inn, they were off.

The chatter was kept minimal, whether it was the added tension of how close they were on enemy grounds or just having little to talk about, Pierrot wasn’t exactly sure. The sun shone high above them, even if its warmth was hardly felt, but as the treetops began to thin out, its light faded away. Pierrot frowned, looking up at the sky as he walked, surprised to see the sky growing darker.

Strange, it was hardly noon yet, wasn’t it? He looked ahead, seeing Pinocchio reach into his trousers for his pocket-watch, muttering inaudibly when he couldn’t find it. He reached into his own coat, relieved to find the little clock and pulled it out. Just as he suspected, the hands had just passed twelve. And yet—

“Where’d the sun go?” he heard the prince ask, finding himself asking the same question.

Malvina waved her hand in the air, a single ball of light forming in front of her. The orb floated above them, casting just enough light to let them see what’s up ahead. The region was completely silent, as though the whole world was asleep here.

“Come on. Best we get through this as fast as possible,” it was Lancelot that exclaimed that. Pierrot looked over at the knight seeing his sword drawn and braced as though something would attack them from the shadows at any moment. He could understand though; the unease that continued to grow throughout their group even as they walked, their pace growing quicker. He himself felt almost… afraid to be here. Like something had happened. But despite the tension, the bard couldn’t help but look around at what it was they were passing through. In the dark haze he saw structures of stone. Some boulders were scattered around while others looked like intact structures of what he assumed were once houses. He even spotted a staircase still standing, even though all it led to was thin air.

“What is this place?”

“Looks like it was a village.” Pierrot heard Malvina speculate, the bard letting her hand go as he approached one of the ruins.

He brushed a finger over the stone, grimacing at the ash that clung to his fingers. He rubbed it off over the grass, looking around the rest of the area. He squinted against the darkness seeing nothing but rubble surrounding them.

“Someone tore this place to the ground.” he added as Malvina’s hair lit up next to him.

“Mama…” The quiet murmur had Pierrot looking down.

“What?” He heard his woodworking friend echo his thoughts.

Bethan stood still next to the woodcarver, her eyes wide as she stared at something in the distance. She gripped tightly onto the furs she wore and buried her face against Pinocchio’s trouser leg.

Taliesin scoffed nearby. “Of course the Dark One had something to do with it.”

Pierrot’s frown could only deepen on seeing the glare the older bard shot the toddler. The amount of times he’d turn his frustrations on that child have gotten, in his eyes, excessive. He never knew his musical companion to be so begrudging. Just what happened since they last saw each other to cast such suspicion on her?

The toddler shook her head violently, her grip tightening on the furs, and jabbed her finger at one spot among the ruins.

“Mother’s here.” she proclaimed, Pierrot finding himself stiffen all the more. He was not about to cast judgement on someone he didn’t know. But the idea of meeting the Dark One anywhere at all was not something he wished to experience. Especially not somewhere where the darkness around them seemed to suffocate the whole area.

Before anyone could stop her she marched forward, stopped only when the tug she pulled on Pinocchio’s hand didn’t have him following her. She looked back, her bottom lip jutting out as she continued to pull at the man’s hand desperately. The dark-haired bard could see the amount of confusion on the younger man’s face as he stepped forward, smiling sympathetically as he walked over. He didn’t like this… but it would seem they weren’t getting much of an explanation. With a pat on Pinocchio’s shoulder, he reached out for the child’s hand, letting her lead them forward.

“Can we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps.” Lampwick called out into the dark.

“Hate to agree with him, but we best keep moving. This place is teeming with dark magic.” Regina spoke out as well.

“That explains everything.” Pierrot hummed softly.

Pinocchio nodded quietly in agreement, and yet, the concern fell on deaf ears for the young child still leading them along. The bard’s eyes narrowed at what looked to be light in the nearby distance, widening as they reached closer.

“Pinocchio, come on!” The woodcarver’s lover called out.

Pinocchio looked back and exclaimed, “There’s a spot of light here!”

Sure enough, amidst the rest of the ruins stood a single little flower, shaped like a rose yet the petals weren’t coloured like one. While it was pink closer towards the pistil, it faded to white as it reached the end of its heart-shaped petals. The flower itself looked to be glowing, no shadow or anything touching the ground its roots must be growing under. It was the only part of this whole place that the sun seemed able to reach. Was this what she was leading them towards? Why did she mention the Dark One then? What did she have to do with the flower?

Bethan let his and Pinocchio’s hands go, drawing closer towards the little blossom. Her eyes were glued to it, mesmerised by its beauty almost. And yet her frown never faded. She crouched down, dropping her head on her knees as she wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.

“It won’t help it, believe me. This place is shrouded in magic, one little light spot won’t save it.” The Queen called out, Pinocchio glancing back at the toddler.

“Kid?”

But Bethan wouldn’t move; only crouched by the single little flower that grew from its light spot, even going so far as to sit down in front of it. Her gaze remained distant, no added hint of joy or anything to be seen on the kid’s expression. All she did was bow her head a little, Pierrot’s eyes creasing with sympathy. Maybe it wasn’t her mother being here, but only a part of her?

“What is it?” Pinocchio asked as he kneeled next to her.

The bard looked back on feeling a touch from behind, Malvina nodding to the departing group. He wrapped an arm around the former fae, basking in the added light she brought to the scene, as he pressed his nose against her shoulder and felt her fingers tickle the lower part of his back.

“No!!”

He looked back on hearing the kid’s call, seeing her hovering over the flower, staring tersely up at the woodcarver. Pinocchio had his hands held up looking equally surprised.

“I… thought she wanted to have it, but—” he trailed off as the child plopped back down on the floor.

“If she wishes to stay there she may, but we have places to get to. Come, we’re not far now.” Taliesin called out from behind, Pierrot pulling away from his dear as he crouched down at the toddler’s right.

“Hey. If we walk this way again we can stop by if you’d like. What do you say?” he offered, Bethan giving him a nod. He held his hand out for her to take, helping the child to her feet and following the rest of the group out of the desecrated village. The moment they stepped past the last of the stone ruins, and the clearing disappeared, the sun greeted them once more.

He relaxed his shoulders, surprised at how tense that area had left him. A part of him almost wished they’d never go by this place again. Something truly terrible had happened there, and the lack of any natural light had made it feel all the more unnerving to be there. He was glad to get as far away from it as he possibly could.

“Thank you, Pierrot.” he heard Pinocchio sigh. The dark-haired man shot him a simple smile.

“Ah, what can I say? I can recognise that forlorn look. This place holds meaning to her, even if we aren’t sure of what that meaning is. Dark as it may be.” he explained, hearing someone tut in front of him.

Perhaps it had been a home to them once and now all that remained were lightless ruins and a single blooming blossom… he couldn’t really say.

“The only reason she’s drawn to it is because of the dark magic.” Taliesin pointed out, Pierrot shaking his head sadly.

“And yet she chose to sit at the only light spot in the area.” he countered, pulling away once Bethan took hold of the brunette’s hand. He approached his friend, hearing him mutter.

“Her attempts at snuffing it out.”

“I can’t find it in my heart to agree, my friend.” Pierrot shut his eyes as he turned to the man. “I’ve seen that look before, even if not on someone her age. In fact, I’ve worn it myself, once upon a time.”

He looked back with a gentle smile, reaching out and letting Malvina take his hand and squeeze it.

“I am no stranger to the sight of grief, you of all people should know this.” he added, frowning at the look of surprise that flashed across the other bard’s gaze. It was brief, but it lingered long enough for Pierrot’s attention to be woefully caught; even after Taliesin bowed his head in understanding and looked apologetic.

“Ah, my apologies, Pierrot. I forget myself. Of course, it’s just not always easy to tell, especially in an area like that.” he explained hurriedly as he moved quickly towards the front. “We’d best continue, before the darkness of it truly does consume us.”

Curious, Pierrot wondered as the bard left his side. Yet he didn’t move to follow, waiting instead for the rest to catch up and walk alongside them. For a man of such impeccable memory and experience, he was sure something so major wouldn’t have been missed by the bard. But suppose it had been a while since they last spoke properly. Not to mention the stress of the impending war… That would have effects on the mind, he supposed. He shook his head softly with a smile. Taliesin had been through enough; he can make an exception for a single, forgotten detail.

“Do you plan on holding onto my arm until we reach Camelot?”

Pierrot looked behind at the hushed question from Lampwick, seeing him looking down at the woman who had, at some point, hooked her arm around his, and was now refusing to unlink it no matter how much the red-head tried to get free.

“Oh shut up. Like you don’t do that with your boyfriend,” she quipped back.

“Yeah, cause he’s my boyfriend! What are you? Five? Need someone to hold your hand so you don’t get lost in the scary woods or something?”

Grace groaned. “Just this once can you not make a spectacle of everything, you ass?”

“You’re the one clinging onto me like I’d disappear if you don’t!”

“Fuck off!” she hissed as they passed the bard, Lampwick rolling his eyes.

He shot Pierrot a look, gesturing down at the girl in frustration, but the bard could only shrug with a grin. Despite the looming dread hanging over them, their minds were set at ease by the familiarity of their usual bickering, distracting their thoughts from what was to come.

He had yet to hear from his companion, but that wasn’t of much bother to the king. He watched as the sun began to set, his eyes on the castle in the distance. They should be there by the next morning.

“Any news at all?” The king turning as he heard someone behind him ask.

Sir Agravain stood by, tapping his foot impatiently behind him. Ever the antsy one, his brother. Mordred shook his head.

“Not yet.”

The knight huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s been four days since we last heard anything!”

“Patience, my dear brother.” Mordred crooned, “It’s a brilliant virtue to have.”

But Agravain scoffed again, louder this time, as he turned away. Mordred let out a calm breath as he looked up at the horizon and at the castle silhouetted in the oncoming moonlight.

“I feel surprises are always a welcome treat. We all know how this will end, after all. It won’t fail.”

As the evening stars began to dot the sky, the trees thinned out once more, the group finding themselves walking along an empty plane. Far ahead of them, Pinocchio could see the turrets of a castle, unable to stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief. At last… they were almost there at last. He smiled, ignoring the rising dread of what’s to come for just a little bit. They were almost there. And he hoped, if they got Merlin out, that he’d be able to fix this situation as fast as possible. For everyone’s sake.

He was pulled away from his thoughts on hearing a sudden gasp from Beth next to him. He looked at what she was staring at, his own eyes widening.

“Whoa,” Lampwick breathed next to him.

“Ah, the glory that is Gravestone Pass.” Taliesin called from the front.

“Lovely name for it. Doesn’t evoke fear in the slightest.” Grace drawled behind him. Pinocchio couldn’t help but hum. The gorge itself was very large and very long, spanning the horizon as far as he could see. He didn’t even want to think about why and how it got such a name.

The bard huffed as he marched onwards. “Only a fool wouldn’t think to fear it. Many a traveller and hero had fallen victim to it. Ah!” He held a hand out when Pierrot leaned closer, “careful my friend. You don’t want to get too close to the edge there, it’s fairly unstable.”

Pinocchio looked over from where he stood, shuddering at the sight of the edge. He inched closer, freezing when the stones underneath crumbled. A hand grasped his arm, Lancelot issuing a smile from behind. The woodcarver returned the gesture before looking over the edge. His stomach dropped at the sight. Okay, it really did seem like a long way down. He couldn’t even see the bottom of the pit. Guess Taliesin wasn’t exaggerating the warning about it.

“If we’re done admiring the gorge can we keep going?” Regina called from further up front, the knight and woodcarver pulling back as they moved to catch up.

But Pinocchio stopped walking on feeling something tug at his trouser sleeve, seeing Bethan looking around nervously. He frowned as he looked past her, one hand on the hilt of the sword as he tried to spot whatever it was that had startled the child. But spying nothing only made his confusion grow.

“What is it?” he asked, Bethan looking up at him with a glare.

“The bridge is gone!”

His frown deepened. “What?”

“Maybe it’s just somewhere else?” Lancelot called from the back, but the kid shook her head even harder.

“It was here!” She pouted, jabbing a tiny finger to her left. “Look there!”

Pinocchio looked to where she was pointing, only now noticing the two small beams of wood sticking out of the snow. “Huh!” He walked over, noticing the spliced ends of the rope. “The ropes were cut cleanly off.”

“Ah! Yes, my greatest handiwork I must say.”

Pinocchio looked over, seeing Taliesin puffing his chest out proudly.

“You did this?”

The bard shrugged. “Well I didn’t have much of a choice! It was either that or end up getting chased across the whole of the realm.”

“Fat lot of good it did you, huh? Given we’re still being chased.” Lampwick snorted, Taliesin sniffing impatiently.

“Well it wouldn’t have held them off for long!”

“Which would explain the blood on your hands and horse, huh?”

Pinocchio frowned at the question his fiancé posed. Blood? Gods, had he been that tired that day that he didn’t even notice it? “Who’s blood?” he asked.

Taliesin’s carefree attitude remained. “Most likely the man’s that I fought.”

He watched Lampwick’s expression darken. “You fought him off.”

“Like my very life depended on it.” Taliesin suddenly grinned.

“Since when were you so talented with a blade?” Malvina called from ahead, Pierrot nodding in agreement.

The bard paused, as though the question had caught him off-guard. But he shrugged. “Ah, desperate times call for desperate measures, my dear friend. It was either fight like startled prey, or die like one.” the bard quickly explained before marching past them. “Besides, this was just the shortest way across, we’ll simply have to go around.”

“Then I guess you can lead the way.”

Pinocchio looked behind him, surprised to see Bethan standing further away with her back to the group, crouching next to a cluster of trees. He puzzled as he wandered over, the toddler hastily straightening up when he got closer. Her eyes were blown wide open, her shoulders squared up, like someone had tried to hit her again. He slowed, seeing Bethan’s fist tightly curl inwards. This was the second time that day the girl seemed troubled by something. But given the region they were in now… he wondered if being so close to the place that hurt her may have something to do with her attitude. He wouldn’t be surprised. He was sure if he hopped onto a cart pulled by donkeys or headed anywhere near that island he’d feel the same. Time may pass, yet despite it being several decades, the pain Pleasure Island brought him remained raw.

“Hey,” he murmured, the young girl glancing up at him, “you okay?”

The child opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words or sound left her. She only shook her head as she shuffled closer, stuffing something into the inside of her furs before grabbing for the hem of his coat and hiding behind it. His brows creased upwards as she peeked out, gaze stuck on the group that was growing distant from them by the minute. He rested his hand on the back of her head, Bethan once again burrowing her face in the coat he wore.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” he murmured softly, feeling the small hands inch around his waist. He moved his hand to her shoulder as he gently held her close. “I promise. You’re safe with us.”

The sound of armour had Pinocchio looking up, Lancelot casting a sympathetic look at the toddler. All the woodcarver could do was shrug, as he followed the knight to catch up with the rest.

A sigh left the fairy as she stood by the balcony, her foot tapping impatiently. Each day found herself growing more and more weary. The waiting… it was insufferable at this point. Each moment that passed had her wondering if he had succeeded, if they were on their way back, if he was even alive at all. She remembered a time not too long ago when Pinocchio’s calls were far more consistent. By then it felt like a familiar prickle under her skin, urging her to seek him out wherever he may be. Nowadays… the sensation rarely showed to not at all. Perhaps he grew up, but another part of her couldn’t help but fret that there may be something else at play here, making him feel less inclined to reach out. It worried her… especially now with what was at stake here.

“Watching the skies won’t make them come back sooner.”

Blue looked over on hearing the bell-like voice, seeing the pink-cladded fairy giggle. The laughter died as quickly as it started, Nova ducking her gaze to avoid the steely look the head fairy was giving her. Blue sighed, looking at the darkening horizon once more, her hand on the bloodied wristband There were times where she may accept a break of tension, but this was hardly one of them. Sugar Plum would know that. She always knew when her light-heartedness was acceptable.

“Did you need something?” Blue asked, still keeping her gaze on the horizon rather than the fairy shuffling behind.

“I didn’t need anything.” she heard Nova say, a reprimand on Blue’s tongue already prepared for the fairy’s child-like behaviour, until- “Someone else wanted to speak with you, however.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Who?”

“The queen. Aurora.”

The fairy stiffened, looking back at her younger addition with her gaze suddenly very wide.

They soon burst into the throne room, Aurora, dressed in less formal attire with a scarf around her neck and dirt clinging to her clothing, looking over with worry etched across her face. She looked dishevelled, hair pinned back but messy and a sword clutched tightly at her side. The queen did not relax even when she realised who had walked into the room.

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Blue asked as she reached the queen, wary of the strange look Aurora gave her.

“Yes, that’s… actually why I’m here.” she frowned, “I’ve been trying to get a message to you since we received yours, but it’s been almost impossible to get here.” the queen fixed the veil she wore over her shoulders, “I barely made it past the army surrounding your border myself.”

Blue’s own frown deepened. “What are you talking about? What army?”

Wordlessly, Aurora pointed the sword towards the window on the far left of the throne room, Blue marching her way closer. Even from afar she could tell there was something distinctly off about how the outside looked. And on reaching the ledge, the sight before her made her stiffen.

“There’s no war in our kingdom. Or anywhere near it.”

Blue heard the brunette say, but found herself unable to turn away from the sight of the fire in the nearby distance, hearing the shouts and trumpets of an ongoing battle. Her fingers curled into the palm of her hands, the fairy growing more and more still. No calm on her face remained as she looked back at the queen. Though not dishevelled, she still found herself clutching her wrist band just a little more tightly, her mouth pursed in one thin line. The queen herself looked worried, as the calls of war continued to sound outside.

“Who told you we needed any help at all?”

Bethan had yet to move away from Pinocchio, one hand still holding tightly to his coat. She didn’t want to get up to the front or anywhere near it. Her other hand gripped at the furs she had on her, the child looking around uncertainly. She was glad that both the mister and Lancy-lot were still next to her and not somewhere in the middle.

She didn’t want to be in the middle.

She didn’t want to be near the front.

She didn’t want to be anywhere near Taliesin.

She remembered when he used to be nice to her and even gave her a pretty little violin once. He tried to show her how to play it but it was really difficult at the time. And since then she hadn’t seen him. Until now. And since that moment on the beach he had been really avoidant and mean to her. She didn’t know what happened and didn’t like it.

It made her want to cry so much thinking he had gone away too. But now she was even more scared of him. There was something wrong about him and she didn’t like it. She wanted to be as far away from him as she could. And make sure Mister Pinoo did the same too.

A tingle ran down her back, the child glancing up behind her. The stars twinkled above them, bright and nice. But one seemed bigger, and was even growing. She gasped as she came to a stop, tugging urgently at Pinocchio’s coat.

“Pinoo! Pinoo!!”

The man turned around curiously. “What is it?”

Bethan pointed up at the sky, the man stopping as well.

“Oh what does she want now?” She heard the tall, orange-haired man say.

As the star got lower, Beth found herself squinting in the light of it. It was really bright. Even brighter than the last time she saw the star show up. Not to mention, it wasn’t blue this time.

The star grew as big and as bright as it could, the child forced to hide her face in Pinoo’s coat from how bright it was. But when she looked back, her eyes widened.

“That’s not Blue.” Pinocchio breathed, as the fairy approached them.

This wasn’t the same one from last time.

Instead of a nice, blue almost green-blue dress, the fairy had a blue almost grey one, with white laces. Her hair was pinned up like the other one had but it was silver, and decorated with clips. It looked really sparkly, like she was covered in stardust. Her face was round and her smile soft, and her eyes were really bright blue. Kinda like Pinoo’s eyes! She was really sparkly from head to toe, and Beth found it hard to look at her for long without her eyes hurting.

“Hello, Pinocchio,” she smiled, her gaze trailing to the rest of the group, “and the rest of your party.”

As soon as her gaze fell on her, Bethan found herself avoiding looking up at the fairy, choosing to instead hide behind Pinocchio once more. She never really met any fairies. A lot of the big kids would usually say only good kids would be able to see them and that she couldn’t. She tried figuring out once how to see one anyway, but it never worked out. Seeing this one… she was supised. But she wasn’t good, so maybe she shouldn’t look at her at all.

“Polaris!” Pinoo above her exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“We were misled! There was no oncoming siege in Rose.” She heard the fairy say, Bethan daring to look up at her. Her smile was gone now.

“What?” Bethan heard one of the ladies ask. It was the one in the red cloak. She looked behind her, seeing the stunned look on her face. “But-”

“We were all deceived. Aurora just managed to reach us.” The fairy continued, her expression looking more and more worried. “They never sent for any aid, Pinocchio.”

“There was no war there?” The prince asked.

“No.”

Bethan stared up at the man she was still next to, his face blank. But it changed, the man looking more sad than anything else as he turned around. “You lied?” he asked, Bethan looking at the bard he had faced. Her grip on the coat tightened.

As she looked on the image began to change and she found herself biting back a whimper as she saw them. This was the second time the images happened. The first time had been when the orange man had her sitting on his shoulders and she saw him falling to a bad man’s axe. She was only glad he had listened when she tried to pull him away. But this time… this time it was different. When she blinked she saw everything so well. And what she saw really scared her.

Beth didn’t waste a second as she jumped behind Pinoo’s orange friend and the lady that stood with him, the dog keeping herself hidden away. Taliesin looked on and hummed, his expression moving away from that terse grin he was wearing since she saw him, and changed to something darker and yet much calmer than she’d seen on him before. He was neither smiling or frowning and she wasn’t sure which was worse.

Suddenly, he thrust his hand out, Beth bracing herself as she shut her eyes and heard several bodies fall to the ground. The pup’s eyes shot wide open as she bolted, taking cover in the nearby bush and looked on fearfully at the remaining party still standing; surrounded by their friends laying unmoving on the ground.

There was a lesson her father once taught her: If the rabbit doesn’t wish to be shot, he must always stay three steps ahead of the hunter. He must turn right before the gun could fully turn left. Time was precious, and being a late thinker was a sure-fire way to die.

A part of her always felt like a little of that lesson had to do with his type of work in the past. Because a thief needed to be smart and predict any sort of situation that could potentially happen. He needed to be ready and swift on his feet and his mind agile, always a few steps ahead of the foe with a little extra trick up his sleeves. It was advice she never let go of, even if the idea of using it for selfish reasons at first scared her. But as time went by and desperate times called for drastic measures, she found herself resorting to it more and more. This situation was no different.

She wasn’t sure what it was. A sixth sense? Sorcery? It didn’t matter, because since the other day she had a feeling something was going to happen. Last night proved restless, as though they were being watched, the dread and—dare she say— paranoia over things going south clawed at her stomach like an angry wolf desperate to escape. So when the fairy showed up with the news of Taliesin’s lies she wasted no time. The moment she saw the bard throw his hand out, she reached into her bag. She didn’t need to find out what he was about to do. Somehow she knew… She had an inkling; an idea. And that was enough to pull her hand out of the little satchel and grab for the red-headed figure still standing next to her, tossing the orange dust above her head and covering them both. In a matter of moments the rest of their group had collapsed, leaving their little duo and hooved companion as the only ones standing.

Grace took off sprinting towards where Pinocchio lay and lunged for the sword, tumbling over him and scrambling to her feet as soon as she had the hilt held tightly in her hands. She swung the blade out at Taliesin, the man disappearing before she could slash him, nothing but his laughter echoing in her ears.

The woman whipped around, braced and alert for the moment the man would reappear. Iskra was off to the side, unsteady as she clambered back onto her hooves, but otherwise unharmed. Everyone else remained unconscious. Even Pinocchio at her feet hadn’t roused, despite her tumble over him.

“Hm, you’re smarter than I initially thought.” She heard Taliesin comment and looked up. “Now you’d best use that wisdom for what you do next, lest you want to see this man’s head roll across the floor.”

Grace almost lost her hold on the blade as she turned back to the gorge. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, feeling the horror wash over her like an ice cold wave.

Taliesin stood with a firm grip on Lampwick, a blade pressed to the red-head’s neck. Her heart leapt to her throat, stifling a quiet whimper. No. Not him, not him!

“Grace! Grace don’t-” his words were muffled by the bard’s hand pressing to his mouth.

“Do everyone a favour and be quiet for once.” Taliesin warned. “Or I’ll make you do so myself.” with those words he turned the hilt, pressing the edge of the dagger to the man’s throat.

“Lampwick-” Grace withheld a wince as the knife held to the man’s throat seemed to tighten, hearing the red-head’s muffled struggle against it. In spite of the fading light, she could just barely see the trickle of blood where the blade must have cut into the skin.

Of all the situations that could have happened… this was the one she feared the most. Her vision hazed. Her lungs felt like they were on fire from how little air they seemed to retain. And yet she couldn’t move; she couldn’t look away. It was as though time itself had frozen on this one moment. Like it was some horrible nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

“Your choices are simple, dear. You give me the sword and he may walk free. If you don’t, well, I can show you exactly how this gorge received its name.” Taliesin’s grin grew sickeningly wider as he spoke, “It’s all really up to you.”

Her gaze trailed down to the sword, lingering on its chipped-off hilt. The last time she felt this helpless… It was when she thought she had lost the only means of getting her father back. Here she was again. Another bargain that could go horribly bad if she made the wrong choice again. If she trusted the wrong person again. She thought she’d never see Jefferson again back then… Now she was being asked to choose between her friend and what this damned blade was supposed to do.

“Grace?! Don’t you ffffucking dare!” Lampwick calling out to her did little to change her focus from the sword, her grip on it tightening once more. “That sword is our one way out of this, if it ends up in their hands we’re all fucked!!”

Hearing the red-head struggle had Grace look up, seeing Taliesin looking back at her curiously. “And how’s a broken sword supposed to help you, hm? All its done is hurt your cause. None of you would have been involved had it not been for that sword, so why keep it?” He laughed, “You can’t change everything with a-”

“Oh, will you shut up!?” Lampwick exclaimed beneath him, “You keep repeating the same bullshit over and over, no one cares what you think!”

She wasn’t sure what the bard had done, but hearing the red-head suddenly cry out in pain only scared her more. Lampwick reached out for his arm, but Taliesin yanked it back, the girl hearing him grunt.

“Did no one teach you any manners?!” he ground out, still keeping a tight hold on him, “Lest you no longer want your tongue, you keep it behind your teeth!”

“Fuck you!!”

With another tug, he turned his dark-coloured eyes back Grace once more, his expression pulling back into that tight grin again. “It won’t answer your pleas to save a friend, you know! Are you really going to risk his life, their future,” -he nodded to the man at her feet- “for something that only causes strife?”

The bard drew closer to the edge, still firmly holding Lampwick against his chest. He turned the blade, pointing its tip at the man’s throat. The red-head struggled, yet the bard’s hold on him remained firm.

Grace bit her bottom lip as her eyes darted around madly, trying to find something, anything that could help her now! Her bag was still next to Iskra, who hadn’t moved from it either. The pony looked at her, ears pinned back anxiously before looking back at the subject of her current worries. She eyed the sword again, lips pursed together as she turned her glare to the duo.

“And how do I know you’re not lying again?”

Taliesin scoffed. “Well you’re just going to have to trust me now, aren’t you?”

Trust… That word… it haunted her like a restless ghost. Trust. Her father always taught her it was important to trust yourself first, when it came to any decision, more than someone else. Whenever he talked of his earlier adventures in Wonderland he always cautioned her about that. Know where you put your trust, because one wrong sip of a potion and perhaps instead of one made of growing mushrooms, you could perhaps drink poison. He always said it with a smile, so light-hearted back then when she was still seven. But she wasn’t so foolish. She knew a part of that had to do with her mother’s death. She didn’t remember much back then and Jefferson was cagey about it too… but she could piece things together well enough: He trusted the wrong kind of people in an act of desperation, and in turn their family of three became a family of two. And later a family of one, her mind added in bitterly, realising just why she was stuck all alone for so long.

Trust. It failed her back then. It became less of a tale of caution and more of a warning, especially as she grew older and experienced her own betrayals, caused by those she thought she could trust. And they had yet to earn it back. Yet there was one person she wasn’t willing to let go of, even now. Even after putting her into this horrible situation in the first place. One wrong move and she would lose him. And yet, no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t tell which was the wrong move to make!

There were times where she could rely on her senses, a hint at what she could do, but for once it was as though they were all blocked off. It was like she was under a spell, the spell being the worst thing she could ever experience according to her father; Panic.

She couldn’t think. She didn’t know what to think!! Her friend was in danger and yet no answer felt right. If it had been the queen, then maybe the answer would have been simple.

If it had been the prince… maybe she could have forgiven herself with time, even if she was sure no one else would. She could learn to live with herself, if they’d even let her live, for allowing the crown prince to perish.

If it had been Pinocchio… perhaps that was an option she shouldn’t think about.

But not with this man. Not him. Gods… why this?!

“Grace-”

Her eyes screwed shut as she heard Lampwick yelp in pain once more.

“Clock’s ticking sweetheart. Won’t be long before it stops.” Taliesin taunted. Grace looked up and saw the blade raised right above the red-head.

“Okay!! Okay.” She was panting by then as she stammered. She readjusted her hold on the sword and tossed it forward. “Just—take the sword and let him go!”

As it landed on the ground, she watched red smoke engulf it, leaving naught a trace of it. She looked up at Taliesin once more, seeing the broken sword in his hand now, the dagger having dropped at his feet. The moon, bright as it was above them, wasn’t enough for her to see his expression but the scoff the bard let out made her stiffen.

“You people are always so predictable; placing one another before anything else. The old king was like that too, as much of a fake as he was. And he was a fake. No ruler, not even Hochwasser’s little shepherd, was as two-faced as the so-called Good King Arthur. And yet, in spite of that, he still had enough heart to pull his wife behind him before receiving the final strike. Not that it would have helped him. The same way it won’t help you.” Taliesin chuckled.

Grace found herself unable to breathe, hearing Lampwick gurgle as he struggled against the man’s hold. She felt sick as she watched the bard with his elbow pressed against the red-head’s neck hold up Excalibur, its gleam once so regal now looking so tainted in the pale light of the night—ready to strike down her only friend. And all she could do is watch once again.

“Such a shame the woodcarver isn’t awake to see this now, huh? To watch his disgraceful lover fall to the very blade that ruined it all for them.”

The bard chuckled again, Grace’s head spinning as she watched.

“Please,” she whimpered, unable to tear her eyes from the view she was being forced to witness. Her hands shook and eyes stung. She didn’t know what to do. She had no idea what to do!!

The laughter of the bard was cut off by a choke and she watched him stumble to the side. His hold on Lampwick released as he fell forward, Grace squinting at what hung from the bard behind. A rather small creature and dark in colouring had sunk its teeth into the man’s neck, not letting go until he hit the ground.

“You little wretch!!” she heard the bard curse, the snarls sounding familiar. It was… it sounded like a dog.

Taliesin grabbed for the dagger at his feet and chucked it at his mini assailant, the canine bouncing back and then towards him again. Grace heard him cry out and kick his feet when the little beast grabbed for his ankle. She heard it yelp when the man’s boot collided with its snout, another cry, sounding less animalistic and more human, was issued by the little creature as it slipped over the edge, the blonde’s eyes widening and realising just who that could have been.

Shit, that had been Bethan!!

Without thinking twice she took off into a sprint. She wasn’t exactly sure how the kid managed to avoid the spell the bard had cast, but that didn’t matter right now. And it wouldn’t matter at all if the rocks gave way beneath the kid before anyone else could reach her!

Lampwick also dragged himself back onto his knees with a grunt and scrambled over the bard, just barely grabbing onto the kid’s hands before she slipped, and worked to pull her back up. Taliesin from behind them had recovered as well and reached for the broken blade. He staggered to his feet and loomed over the unsuspecting two hanging over the edge. Grace picked up speed, hoping so badly that she could still make it.

What happened next felt like a blur; one moment she was running the next she was on the ground with her vision swimming. She couldn’t move, her arms and legs feeling like lead, and her lungs unable to take in a single proper breath. She lay there panting, listening and waiting for the inevitable. But it was Taliesin's shout of terror that greeted her as she worked to open her eyes again. Grace’s arms struggled to lift her weight as she looked up, realising all too quickly what had rammed into her, having forgotten the only other individual that had remained awake.

Iskra hovered over the edge where she remembered the bard standing, her tail lashing behind her as she whinnied loudly. The woman choked back a sob, her weight giving way beneath her once more. Thank the gods for that creature. She was sure they’d be lost without her.

Yet her relief didn’t last long.

Not when she saw the rocks beneath the man and child start to crumble, and heard them tumbling down the gorge.

The horror was enough to get her back on her feet.

“DON’T MOVE!!” she heard the red-head yell yet she was unwilling to listen. Though it seemed the ordeal had finally taken its toll, as her knees gave way beneath her anyway and Grace crumpled to the dirt. All she could do was watch as Lampwick looked back, unable to catch the last look in his eyes as the ground crumbled beneath him and the girl, Iskra diving down after them the moment they fell.

And all Grace did was watch… as the last of the rocks crumbled down the cliff edge and the world grew still and silent around her once more.

Reul Ghorm was on alert the moment she saw the three stars float from the heavens towards the window sill, changing shape right before her very eyes. She sighed as she approached the window once more, watching Nova step off the ledge followed by her two companions. Though similar in facial features, the two fairies still had their differences. While one was short and wore dark blue clothing, the other stood much taller than even Blue herself and wore dark red. They both had black hair, yet it was styled remarkably differently; The shortest, wore it down, while the taller favoured having it pinned up in a bun. She was relieved to see all of them back unharmed, especially the siblings. She only hoped the third sister of their little triplet group remained unharmed wherever she was.

“Any news?” She stressed, as the three fairies stepped onto the window before her. The dark-blue fairy exchanged a grimace with Nova, and Blue found herself growing more and more impatient the longer the silence continued. At that point, she didn’t need to hear anything to know what their answer was. And it was not the one she wished to hear.

Her wings unfurled.

“Blue, wait!” Nova called out from behind her right as she strode towards the window.

“This is taking too long, she should be back by now.”

“It’s only been a couple of hours, Blue. Give her just a little more time!”

“There is no more time!” The older fae barked, her gaze cold as ice as she stared the younger fairies down from the window sill. She gestured outside, pointing towards where the smoke billowed in the near distance. “We’re already under siege and it’s only a matter of time before they reach the citadel.”

“I understand-”

“It’s quite clear to me that you don’t!”

“The situation is dire but please listen to me!” Nova exclaimed, the blue-clad fairy’s expression unchanging as she waited for her to continue. The younger fairy took a deep breath. “Give Polaris a little longer. Maybe until the eighth hour and then you can search for them. But for now it’d be best if we put our focus on what we can do to help here.”

She understood where the younger fairy was coming from. She knew she meant well. But unlike Nova, she was also aware of what could potentially happen if they strayed too much from fate’s design. That’s the thing with destinies and life; if you don’t follow the road the way you should, if you run too far off-course, the consequences can be dire. It was the one thing Blue had tried to teach Pinocchio when he was still just a moving puppet… though given the way he continued to act, she wondered just how much of that he retained and how much he was just wilfully ignoring in an attempt to do what felt easier for him. Easy didn’t always mean good; she wished he would just understand that.

The fairy wondered if Arthur, the former king of Camelot, had also gone astray—given the sword was lost to him and he fell to the blade of what once was his fellow comrade. She had been aware of the great deeds he was supposed to do, but she had also heard of the king’s never-ending quest to complete the sword. She didn’t know all of the details, but hearing of his death was enough to tell her that something must have gone wrong there. She was certain that Merlin’s powers weren’t incorrect in their assumption to pick him that day. But it would seem the great wizard hadn’t accounted for the King’s actions leading to a war led by his usurper on the rest of the realm.

She let out a breath, the agitation growing with intensity the longer she stood by. But before she could say anything else, one of the guards marched out from around the corner, calling for her attention.

“Reul Ghorm, there’s someone here that wishes to speak to you.”

Blue’s gaze narrowed. “Unless it’s dire, I ask that we aren’t disturbed.”

“He said it was urgent. One of the villages requests immediate aid.”

Her eyes drew shut as she let out a slow breath. She found herself gripping the wrist band once more, her mind a brewing storm. She let out another sigh, turning to the three fairies still standing at her side. “Flora and Merryweather,-” the sisters straightened, “go find your sister and set out for Rose with Aurora. Send word to those we sent out that they are needed back home. Maybe they can still make it back in time before they reach the castle. Nova, find the rest of the council. Polaris has until the eighth hour. Until then, we hold the fort on our own.”

With a quick nod the fairies before her shrunk and flittered out of the window, the older fae turning back to the guard once more. With nothing but a simple nod, she followed him down the hall. But her gaze continued to look out through every window, trying to spot the one star she needed to see right now.

Pinocchio, wherever you are, for what it’s worth, don’t fail me now.

— 1983 —

It had been a little over a week since Lampwick had ended up at this house. Over a whole week, since the ordeal with his… transformation had ended. Maybe even two. Who the fuck knew at this point. It was strange these people hadn’t kicked him out after the first night of him sleeping there. But then again, guess it was kind of hard to do that to someone that spent most of the day coughing his lungs out and couldn’t even climb out of the fucking bed. But he was sure the old farmer he’d been with before would have had no trouble hauling his jackass self out into the open, in spite of his donkey barely being able to stand. As it turned out, outside of whatever bloody ailment that got him, the injuries he had on his person had been infected. The reactions he received from those would haunt him for days.

But the days went by, and eventually the red-head found himself starting to heal again. The wounds, once red, swollen and, in some cases, looking extremely gross, were starting to scab over. An apparent sign of healing. His headache from the fever his body had decided to wrack up was finally fading, and he found himself able to breathe again. He still wasn’t moving around as much yet, but even going from the guest room to the kitchen was an improvement, according to the lady of the household. Almost all seemed well.

Almost.

A part of him now dreaded what would happen now that he had recovered. If this night, the next, or the one after would be his very last; and he’d be thrown back out with nothing but that horse to keep him company. It was only a matter of time anyway. They had their own shit to deal with that wasn’t to do with him. He was pulled out of his gloom by the door creaking open, a blonde girl, no older than he was, peeking in at him.

“Wh’ do you want?” he muttered, only for the girl to glare at him and dart out of sight. He heard the front door open then shut, and found himself rolling his eyes. Typical. This happened more often than he could count. Even more frequently now that he was starting to feel more coherent. The girl would look into the room and, at the first anowledgement he’d give her, she’d bolt out the door. It was strange. She never said or did anything else. Of course, he’d known she existed and knew her name. The woman always had some sort of comment for her daughter so it was hard to miss it. It just wasn’t worth remembering it. To him, at least. Once he was out, he’d never have to see the couple again or the girl.

He heard a whicker outside followed by laughter, the boy pouting as he realised what was going on.

Guess once he was out he’d be rid of the horse too, from the looks of it.

He huffed and turned over, covering his hands over his ears to block the annoying noise out, choosing to both ignore that and the constricting feeling in his chest. He chalked it up to him not being well just yet. Nothing more, or less.

It wasn’t worth a single bit of acknowledgement.

He shut his eyes and pretended to sleep on hearing the doors creak open, still keeping his back to whoever had walked over to his room. The door opened a little more, yet the boy refused to turn, his frown only growing when he heard a strange set of footsteps approaching him. He froze as something tickled his neck, his eyes flying open when he heard a snort behind him. His fake sleeping charade ended as he rolled over, finding himself face to face with a spotted muzzle, the creature soon coming into focus, as she fluttered her cheek wings in delight above him.

“Isk?” he mumbled, hearing a shush closer to the door. The girl, with her finger pressed to her lips nodded behind her, before carefully closing the door behind her. He couldn’t help but watch on in bafflement at the unfolding scene, wondering just why she even did that. What did she get from doing this?

He didn’t have much of a chance to really dwindle on that, as Iskra quickly hopped up onto the bed next to him and lay down, resting her head on top of his chest. She felt strangely heavy and yet… It felt nice. Suppose he couldn’t complain about what she had done… He probaly should thank her later…

Grace. He needs to remember to thank Grace.

Lampwick sighed as he combed his hand through the mare’s mane, his storming mind calming enough for him to doze off once more.

Grace… Perhaps the girl’s name was worth remembering afterall.

— PRESENT —

She had yet to look away from the crossing, her eyes darting from one point to the other as she waited in awful silence. She could feel her arms shaking beneath her once again as she continued to search. As she continued to hope for what she knew would not happen. In fact, she was foolish to even think anything better would come from this. She heard his last call even if she couldn’t see the last look in his eyes. And yet she sat waiting for something she knew wasn’t happening.

He wasn’t coming back…...

Grace drew her chin to her chest, eyes screwed tightly shut.

He was never coming back.

Her chest heaved painfully as she sobbed, her attempts at stifling them failing.

Just like she failed him.

The girl collapsed to the floor, letting the tears flow freely as she drew her knees up to her chest in an act of comfort that helped so little. She knew it wouldn’t help. It didn’t help when her father left and it sure as hell wouldn’t help now. All she could do was cry, until the tears ran dry and her consciousness shut down.

Chapter Text

Pinocchio woke up with a start, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared up. The sky above him was covered with stars, all twinkling down upon him. For a moment he found himself wondering what he was doing. Why was he lying on the ground; on the very cold and very hard ground? When did he even lie down in the first place? He heard a mrow behind him, Figaro rubbing his face up against his head. Did he pass out or something?

His eyes narrowed as he counted the stars above him, trying to remember. Someone… did something. Someone he thought was good had- He sat up rapidly, looking around at the rest, seeing others equally disoriented getting up.

Taliesin. The bard had fooled them since the beginning.

“Is everyone okay?” The woodcarver called out, looking around the open plain as the rest started to rouse.

“Where is he?” He heard the prince call out, his words met with a scoff from Regina.

“Not like it matters anymore! He probably fled the second he realised the jig was up.”

Pinocchio sat up on his knees, giving Figaro a few strokes as the tuxedo mewled and arched his back under the man’s touch. He tip-toed around him, further shoving his head towards Pinocchio’s hand. The distraction lasted for only a moment as the woodcarver stiffened and patted his side. A curse played on his tongue as he ground his teeth together. “He took the sword.”

“Oh even better!”

He couldn’t help but grip his belt a little tightly, the now empty scabbard resting heavily against his side. They lost the one upperhand that they had against Mordred. The one thing that might have been of use against the enemy. They still didn’t have Merlin and with Taliesin gone there was no telling how much time they still had before Mordred knew of their plans.

But if he had magic, he was probably at the king’s side already.

Pinocchio sighed heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. He couldn’t believe this. Actually no, he sure could. His luck was as sour as it was when he was a kid, given he had managed to lose the one thing they needed right now. Just great. Maybe he should have listened to Lampwick that day and just obliged to the idea of a tavern date. Lord knows when they last went there. At least it would have spared them of this travesty involving magical swords and false prophecies!!

He glanced up, noticing the crumpled heap of someone still laying on their side not far from him still as a statue. His heart jumped to his throat as he staggered to his feet.

“Grace!!” he exclaimed as he ran over and dropped to his knees at the blonde’s side. His hand hovered over her shoulder as he desperately scanned for any signs of injury before giving her a quick shake. “Hey! Hey can you–” Oh please be alive, “Can you hear me?!”

“I’m sorry.” she murmured quietly, Pinocchio sighing with relief. She seemed fine. Mostly, at least.

“There’s nothing you have to be sorry for, there’s nothing any of us could have done-”

“No.” she rolled over, “I— I should have done something while I had a chance.”

The brunette frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Taliesin fell from the cliff, a-and Lampwick, h-he-” she hiccuped, Pinocchio feeling like his heart had stopped.

“Wh-what about him?” His eyes widened as he realised one crucial thing about their situation. “Where is he?” he looked around, eyes scanning the open plain but saw nothing of his betrothed. Grace beneath him whimpered.

“The cliff. I couldn’t reach them before it crumbled, I’m sorry.”

“What?” He whispered, feeling like any louder would make the words more true. He could hear his heart hammering in his ears now, as the words continued to whirl around in his mind. Lampwick was gone? He had fallen? He was-

“No,” he shook his head, his mouth pulling down into a hard frown. “No way, you- this is some sick joke you’re playing, you’re-”

“You really think I’d joke about something like that?!” Grace exclaimed, her glare meeting his. Only one of their looks weakened, and he was sure it wasn’t the woman’s.

His shoulders sagged the longer the silence surrounded the clearing.

If it were a prank, he’d have expected the man to step out and say so already. If it had been a joke, Pinocchio would have for sure already had said some choice words at the red-head for scaring him so badly at a time when it was least appropriate. If it was just these two being silly, he’d have heard laughter by now. If it were a joke- if it… if it weren’t real…

But Grace’s red-rimmed eyes were misting again, and the lack of any loud, rambunctious calls remained. No one was laughing, least of all the individual he just accused of toying with him.

“He’s actually gone?” he uttered.

Grace’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry. I watched him fall before I could get to him.”

Pinocchio swallowed thickly as he sat back on his haunches. Each breath he took felt more difficult than the last, and he could feel his head spinning from it all. His knees were growing numb from the biting cold of the ground, and yet he felt his trembling hands sweating. The cloak around him suddenly felt too tight and hot around him, suffocating him inside and yet he couldn’t move to take it off. His vision grew hazy and he felt just a little too sick, as the realisation sunk like a heavy stone within.

He was gone. Lampwick was gone. He didn’t want to believe it but Lampwick was actually gone-

“Pinocchio-”

He held a hand up, stopping Malvina before she could say anything more or rest her palm on his shoulder. He knew what she was going to do, what she wanted to do but right now he just couldn’t… he couldn’t accept it much less take it. His hand shook profusely, yet he clenched it tightly. His chest was aching as well. The man stood up and glanced back at the rest of the group.

“Best we set up camp for the night, we’re not going any further right now.” His own voice sounded so far away as he spoke.

The noise in his ears buzzed and his body moved as though with a mind of its own, the man ignoring anything the rest may be doing. He only hoped they’d take a hint and do something and leave him be to hopelessly search his bag for the supplies he knew he hadn’t been carrying.

Her impatience with the situation was apparent. To her at least. It would seem no one else had caught on that Reul Ghorm, despite her wings flared and fingers tapping harshly on the round table, was anything but calm and collected. She wasn’t. Every moment they sat here felt like their chance of putting a swift end to this was slipping away. And yet she couldn’t walk away. Not while the two individuals from one of the larger villages had come through with a plea for assistance.

Nova hadn’t been successful at reaching all of the council in their hour of need, but with both Pinocchio, young Prince Henry, Red and Sir Lancelot out of the picture, the number had dwindled into low digits. She had successfully reached both Grumpy and one of the knights; the younger of the two to be exact. Blue couldn’t say she was exactly pleased with who the fairy had gotten, but that was the least of their worries now. At least she had gotten someone, she supposed.

“We’re stretched thin as we are. We’ve already sent scouts out to the village nearby, sparing another fleet will only put us in further jeopardy.” She explained.

The shortest of the two stepped forward, face twisted in a scowl. For a moment, they reminded her of Pinocchio’s fiancé, the defiance in their stance and the beaming red, curly hair doing them no favours. However it was their choice of very extravagant looking clothing and rounded face that really brought out the difference between them. There was no slouch to their posture either, even as they marched forward and snapped:

“So what the hell do you expect us to do?! Collodi’s full of young families and elders, we stand no chance against a bunch of wizards and men trying to ram us down!!”

“Kin, if I may.” The other man lay a hand on their shoulder as he stepped forward.

He was a lot more soft-spoken than the other, his medium brown hair softening the otherwise sharp features of the man’s face. She knew him to run the inn around Collodi and how the whole village seemed to rely on him in a sense. They had personally never really interacted, Blue having most likely missed anytime the council’s attention was drawn to that village, but she found herself being a little curious of this individual.

For an innkeeper that looked like he was working with more than he could handle (if the eyebags under his hazel eyes were of any indication to this) he carried himself with a similar poise that a lot of the upperclassmen possessed around the castle. “I understand your concerns, but you leave those regions unprotected, you’re without any extra shielding that could keep the king from reaching the citadel.”

He was quite well-spoken as well.

“See, we’d do that, but don’t have exactly enough men to spare for such a thing.” It was the knight that chimed in, the innkeeper’s attention turning towards him.

“How so?”

Grumpy tsked as he kicked a leg up over the other, ignorant to the Blue Fairy’s disapproval. “Cuz half our whole armada’s in a whole other kingdom, that’s why.”

The innkeepers’ brows shot up, casting the group at the table a look of bafflement. His companion seemed equally as bewildered.

The red-headed figure laughed. “And who’s bright idea was that?! I’ve never heard something so ludicrous in my life!”

“Arlekin.” The Innkeeper murmured, his hand still on the other’s shoulder. He turned back to the council, tired hazel eyes looking especially at her. “Is there no alternative here then at all?”

Blue sighed. “I’m sorry. But until Pinocchio comes back, our hands are tied.”

“Forget Pinocchio!” Arlekin chimed in once more, “How’s one man supposed to turn the tides on this whole attack?! Who’s he supposed to save once he returns anyway, given you’re leaving all us to the wolves?”

“We’re doing all we can-”

“Really?! This is what you call, ‘doing all you can’? Sitting here with your little armada around the citadel while the rest of us are fighting for ourselves out there? That’s the help you’re giving to us?!” In a matter of seconds, their grin was gone, a scowl locked in place as they took a step forward. “Least the Prince wouldn’t think twice to send men to our aid. Nor would the old King and Queen!”

The man, once with one hand on the shorter individual’s shoulder, now had both hands behind his back. “Have a little more consideration. While there are abled men willing to fight for our home, we have no means of fighting back against magic.”

“And you think we have it?” The knight countered, the innkeeper’s eyes narrowed.

“Well you certainly have a lot more experience with fighting against such forces. Am I wrong to think that, Grumpy?” his gaze trailed to the dwarf, whose eyes only narrowed.

Blue cleared her throat, drawing the attention back to herself. “There’s nothing more that we’d like to do than offer our help. But again, there’s little resources that we can offer you right now. I’m sorry.” she nodded her head gently.

“Well that sure sounded convincing.” Arlekin sneered.

“I must agree with them. I had hoped for more action than just sympathy for our plight. Suppose I was mistaken to think we’d obtain any help at all.” the innkeeper stared unblinkingly at the fairy.

“Don’t waste your breath on them, Eugene, let’s go.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Arlekin reached out and grabbed the taller man by the arm as he walked by. “I forgot the ones that actually give a shit about the rest of us were not here.”

Eugene didn’t need any more prompting. With a curt nod to the table, he followed Arlekin to the door. Blue let out a long breath as the duo left. Of course, she felt remorse for their plight but… right now there was very little that could be done about it.

She figured everyone else at the table had agreed, even as she heard one of the chairs scrape across the floor and she watched Grumpy march across the room.

“Wait a second, you two.” he called out gruffly, “Let me get my brothers. We’ll go with you.”

Blue’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you heard me, lady.” The dwarf sneered as he looked back, “When Snow White was trying to get her kingdom back, we were right there with her. And I speak for all of us when I say a Dwarf ain’t gonna sit back and wait for whatever will happen. Magic or otherwise, it’ll take more than a fireball to kill me. If there’s a chance to hold the king’s forces off even for a little while, then you can bet my pickaxe that I’ll be there on the frontlines. Not hiding away like some common coward.”

“Thank you, Grumpy.” Eugene nodded, the gruff dwarf huffing in return.

“Don’t thank me till the fighting’s done, now let’s go!”

Blue remained stoic in the face of the trio leaving, her expression showing her disappointment at the reaction. The knight had followed suit soon enough, whether after the three that had already left or presuming that the council meeting was over it didn’t really matter. It was just her left inside now, with Nova standing behind her. She could hear the young fairy’s feet shuffling. She was sure the young godmother had something to say, right as she heard her speak:

“Blue, maybe we should do something.” Nova murmured. “We’ve helped fight before, why are we holding back now? We can’t wait forever.”

“We’re not going to. The eighth hour has passed. I’m going to get Pinocchio back myself.” Reul Ghorm’s wings fluttered as she stepped away from the table.

“And what then? We can’t just- leave him to deal with all of this alone! Grumpy’s right, we need to help the people we have here right now. Maybe they can help too.” The pink-cladded fairy exclaimed as she flitted after her. “Wouldn’t Snow have wanted that too?”

Blue’s eyes narrowed as she turned back. “Are you trying to talk down on me?”

“No!!” Nova stiffened as she exclaimed. “But are we really going to leave people that asked for help without it? I thought, as fairies, it was our sworn duty to aid those that requested our aid. Why are we ignoring them? N-not to mention they’re up against magic. That’s something we can help with. Please, Blue. We have to do something!”

This made the older of the two pause, Blue looking back at the determined glare the younger was wearing. It wavered when Blue’s unrelenting coldness remained still, but she didn’t step back. Blue couldn’t help but ponder.

Naive as she was, she knew the Pink Fairy was serious about her job, and she couldn’t deny that what she had said was a good point. In the end, she wanted nothing more than to end all of this— To bring back Pinocchio and the party that had led him, the prince and Lancelot so badly astray from what they were supposed to accomplish— but in the end… what kingdom would they be saving if those that remained at home abandoned any attempts at helping its people?

She sighed, folding her wings back.

“Then best we don’t keep them waiting, right? Return to the court and have as many of our fairies come back with all the dust as we can spare. There’s no doubt we’ll need it.”

Nova gaped at first, Blue withholding a comment of disapproval, as her expression slowly turned into a large smile. Her wings fluttered rapidly, the dust coating the floor beneath her in a sparkling flurry. “Of course!” she nodded as she waved her wand hastily. The fairy, now the size of a faraway star, took flight out of the balcony.

Reul Ghorm couldn’t help but hold back following her. She glanced at the stars, searching them as she pondered. They’ve strayed far from how this event should have gone down. It was the only explanation she had for the direction they seemed to be headed. Before it had all seemed so simple, and now…?

She sighed, as her wings flared. It had always been difficult, she reminded herself. The course of fate was supposed to change, it could never go so smoothly. She only hoped the boy would have some sense enough to set things back on course before it was too late.

The gathering around the fire was quiet. Silent almost, outside of the crackling flames that sat in between the group. Anytime before now, he would have considered this a blessing in disguise—peace and quiet between their travelling party was a rarity at best. But not this time around. The heavy feeling of loss clung to the air like a dark cloud. Grace had wandered into the woods beyond, mentioning something about firewood but she had yet to return. Though it would seem the rest of their party had yet to be pulled out of their own heads to really notice. His focus however remained on the one that was affected the most.

Pinocchio’s gaze never left the flames of the fire, his eyes glassy and distant. Since his proclamation to set up camp, the man hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone, much less done much to help either. He had kept his distance until the fairy had finally gone over to at least have him sit by the fire. He fiddled silently with the ring on his finger, the brunette completely unresponsive to anything around him.

For a moment, the senior knight felt like he was looking at the boy that just lost his father again. Pinocchio showed up barely a fortnight after the loss of Geppetto and Jiminy, looking almost identical back then; lost and unsure. But back then he showed up with that obnoxious red-headed boy he had only considered a friend at the time. The spark in his eye wasn’t entirely gone at the time; it would show up here and there during that meeting—specifically whenever Lampwick made some sudden quip or point, even if it held no other purpose other than to make the grieving boy smile.

There were no attempts at light-heartedness now, not with the very man that caused that sort of mischief now gone. All that remained was the hollow sorrow he had left behind.

“I’m sorry. I fear I picked a bad time to come here.” Polaris chimed in. Her wings drooped behind her back, the fairy having lost some of that sparkle she first arrived with.

With one hand on the grieving man, Malvina looked up with a soft frown. “This isn’t your fault. Thanks for coming here as quickly as you did.”

“Yeah there’s no telling what that fucker would have done if you got here later.” The queen added, as she chucked in a single twig into the flames. “For all we know we’d all be down at the bottom of that cliff right now and not just three people-”

“This really isn’t helpful at all right now.” Malvina interjected, even Lancelot hastily glancing back at the woodcarver.

But the man gave little reaction. It was like he hadn’t heard them at all. The knight watched the man stand up and walk off, his back to the group as he disappeared into one of the tents. Probably looking to get a little privacy. Not that he could blame him.

Pierrot reached out and took Malvina’s hand before she could move to follow, the woman relaxing at her own husband’s touch as the group was drawn back to the conversation by the prince’s careful intrusion.

“Um… before, well, everything, you said something about Aurora only now being able to reach us. What was that about?”

Polaris straightened as the boy addressed her. “Our border is completely blocked off from their side by Mordred. The war was never supposed to be there, it was all a lie since the beginning.”

“Then where is it?”

Her expression pinched with discomfort. “At home.”

Lancelot’s breath bated, as the prince’s eyes widened.

“What?!”

“He barricaded us on the inside, And with half of the army still in Rose-”

“We’re left practically defenceless!!” Henry exclaimed. He stood up abruptly, one hand on the hilt of the sword as he looked to the rest almost desperately. “We need to leave-”

“I don’t think that’d be wise-” Lancelot spoke up.

“You heard what she just said! Every second we spare here, Mordred’s probably laying siege on Hochwasser!” The boy prince continued to point out.

The knight was not unfamiliar to the boy’s fire. His passion to be there for the rest of his kingdom was admirable and showed he would do all it would take to protect it for years to come. Even if the council found him not yet suited to lead, Lancelot was sure he’d get there once he was a little older. But even despite his devotion to his kingdom, the boy’s brashness was still something he struggled to contain when it came to decision making. “Henry, I understand your plight but… look at us,” the knight gestured to the rest of the party. “It’s late, and we’re all ill-fit to make the journey and fight right away.”

“But-”

“We need rest. There’s still plenty at home that will hold the fort down at least until you come back and give them their next order. But for now, we need to rest until the morrow. Because at this rate we’re only running to our deaths.”

Henry stared him down, eyes locked in a glare on the knight, as though waiting for the older man’s resolve to break and resign to his demand. Another thing he was used to. Henry had energy to spare and was eager to spend as much of it as he could, even when rest was necessary. A lot of their sessions ended like this. Yet Lancelot, still sitting on the stool the queen and fairies had conjured up for them, remained unrelenting against the hazel eyes that were fiercely set ablaze with the desire of what the prince wanted to do. But seconds ticked on by and the boy’s shoulders soon fell, Henry letting out a huff.

“Fine. But at first light, we’re going!” he stated, looking back at the rest of their gathered group for anyone that dared challenge his word. But his words caused little stir, the rest of their party taking that as a signal to retire.

Lancelot turned back to the fire in front of him as the plane grew silent, interrupted by a muted screech in the distance. The knight paused, mid-picking up a single piece of wood and looked behind him. He couldn’t see anything from where he sat, only the gorge silhouetted in the distance. Another squeal sounded, equally as muted, and yet the area around him remained unmoving.

‘Must have been a wild animal elsewhere,’ he wondered, as he chucked a single log into the flames he was keeping watch of.

Pinocchio bolted upright, his heart racing and his eyes glued to his feet. His hands pressed into the back of the bed roll, his fingers curling into the fabric. As the initial panic of his waking faded his mind finally caught up to his need to breathe, the man taking a deep breath in and exhaled equally as slowly. The spinning of his head ebbed away, as did the sick feeling that had accompanied his feelings of terror. His hand clutched to his chest, feeling his heart beating amongst the warmth.

Warmth, not coldness, warmth… he was whole… It was just a dream. He was still human… he was okay.

…Well as okay as he could be.

Pinocchio wearily glanced to his left, seeing the blonde woman with her back to him sleeping soundly, something he wished he could do himself.

This was the third time since he retreated to his tent that had been woken up like that. And yet he still couldn’t find any peace within himself. Not without-

He sighed shakily, knees drawing up to his chest as he rested his chin on them. He wrapped one arm around his legs and the other his head, his fingers gripping tightly at his hair.

Gods, Lampwick… He had really fucked things up this time. If they never left—

He sniffed, daring to peek out from his temporary hiding, and looked to the ring on his finger.

Just a month ago he remembered the two of them finally setting down a date for the marriage, something he remembered hearing Arlekin cheering about at the inn. Malvina had responded to his letter, saying she’ll be over to see them, and he had planned to tell her the news then, knowing she’d want to hear about it and even offer to help. But now—

Now there was nothing. Just a hollow… pit of nothing, that made his chest hurt. The ache was familiar and yet still different. Maybe because when he lost his father there was still someone to fill the emptiness and make the pain feel a little easier to manage. He didn’t have that anymore. He didn’t have that person anymore. And as much as he would like to push the fault onto the one that betrayed them… in the end he only had himself to blame.

This was his doing… if he had never left town, if he just followed along with Blue’s plan, maybe Lampwick would still be here. The kid would still be here.

Gods, the kid. His promise—small and hopeless as it was before—at least it was still around and he was willing to do all he could to make it come true. And yet he managed to break that deal as well. Hundreds of years she had been forced to live on this realm, yet the minute she came into contact with him her life had ended.

People were foolish to call her the curse that brought about everyone’s misfortune; especially when all he seemed to excel at is failure. He was supposed to be honest, selfless and brave. Yet here he was, cowering away once more like the child he once was, all because he thought he found an easier way around. But much like back then, the easy path came at a high cost. He may as well be that wooden boy again; he didn’t deserve any better after this.

Pinocchio’s breath hitched as a sudden bolt of pain shot through his foot, his heart spiking in speed once more as he drew it closer. His eyes screwed shut as he gripped at it, suppressing yelp as the pain continued. He knew he wasn’t dreaming now, not with how real the pain was. And yet he didn’t wish to look and find out just what’s become of him. He didn’t wish to see the result of his mistakes just yet.

But either the Gods were playing him for a denying fool or he could still feel the warmth of skin under the palm of his hand, the feeling of flesh still very apparent.

The woodcarver dared glance down, dared move his foot a little, seeing the way it bent fine and well.

He was still okay. He was still… him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying hard to get himself to relax.

But the damage was done, the ill feeling from before rearing its ugly head once more, and he knew that there was no way he was getting back to sleep now.

With another sigh Pinocchio got up and carefully inching out of the tent. He walked out of the camp, ignoring the curious look the knight that was keeping watch had shot him, as he moved far away from the warmth of the fire.

It was hard to say if he had gotten any rest. Frankly, it was difficult to tell if anyone in the camp had gotten any sleep either. The group had started packing up their two tattered tents and stuffing the sleeping rolls back into the bags, movement sluggish and lifeless. They all looked even worse than the morning after their camp had been burned down. It was like no one had the energy to wake up today at all.

Pierrot rubbed the sleep from his eyes just as Red got the fire going, roasting a couple of rabbits she and Lancelot had gone and caught earlier. He noticed how Grace’s face scrunched up in disgust when the woman asked who wanted anything, moving far off from the campfire as her only response to it. She pushed past the bard but her quick departure was interrupted by Pinocchio, Pierrot looking as surprised as the blonde woman, when the brunette walked past him without even looking up.

“Have you been out all night?!” Grace exclaimed.

“Doesn’t matter.” Came Pinocchio’s response. But Pierrot couldn’t help but disagree.

The man’s dishevelled state had barely changed since last night. In fact, he looked so much worse now. Dark circles clung to the bottom of his eyes, his hands stuck permanently in his pocket. His complexion was pale as is, yet he looked as white as the melting snow around them. The coat he was wearing was now tightly pulled around him, all buttons done up right to the collar, even if clearly it was made for someone with less broader shoulders. It was a strange sight to see on someone that usually kept it undone. To top it all off, the man was walking strangely, as if he was too nervous to put too much weight on his right leg. Pierrot couldn’t help but feel concerned about that, feeling a sudden grip on his hand when Malvina drew closer to his other side. Had the man hurt himself on the way back? Before he could think to ask, however, the prince spoke up.

“He’s right. Our priority right now is getting back home!”

“Since when?”

“Since last night?” Henry’s frown deepened as he stepped away from Red, who was still dividing up the rabbit. “You’d know this if you stuck around.”

Pinocchio only blinked in response, before giving a quiet: “What happened?”

“Hochwasser is under attack.” Lancelot explained, Pierrot noting how the woodcarver stiffened. “It was never supposed to Rose that Mordred attacked, Taliesin led us astray.”

“And with half the army now cut off from the kingdom due to him surrounding us, our people are stranded and without aid.” Henry added on.

In spite of his initial reaction, Pinocchio’s shoulders quickly sagged. He rubbed at his face, a slow, silent breath being let out. Pierrot pitied his old friend, knowing the pain he was dealing with was already bad enough. And with their home in peril on top of that? He couldn’t imagine shouldering this kind of burden at the moment.

“Right.”

“We need to get back.” Henry picked his bag and scabbard up.

“What we need to do is keep going.” Pinocchio countered.

The bard frowned, the prince’s eyes narrowing as well.

“Have you heard anything I just said?!”

“Of course. But not only are we without the sword but we’re only, what? Nine people?” The woodcarver pointed out, “What difference can we make? If we get Merlin maybe we could stand a better chance against Mordred and his men.”

“Like that’s ever stopped folks like you.” The Queen chipped in with her arms crossed over her chest. “You heroes will always go on about never giving up or some bullshit. How you can still achieve the impossible.”

“Well I’m no hero. I never was and I never planned to be, so your point is worthless.” Pinocchio responded with nothing but a wry glance her way as he moved back to where his bag lay unpacked.

The Queen scoffed. “Well someone’s hope sure died today. Where’s all the ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ bullshit I’ve always heard Snow spouting?”

Pierrot couldn’t help but grimace at the woman’s choice of words. Not really something he would have used on a grieving man personally. And from the looks of the growing stiffness in Pinocchio’s shoulders and barely schooled expression, it seemed like he didn’t appreciate it either.

“Do I look anything like the former queen? We came here to do one thing and I’d like to at least finish what I started for once.”

“Do we even know where we’re going?” Lilith cut in. “It’s not like any of us here had been in this Camelot Kingdom before.”

“Lancelot should know, right?” Pinocchio looked over at the knight as he asked.

The look the man held told Pierrot all he needed to know. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but this kingdom of Camelot I’ve been hearing of is very new to me.” he admitted, “When I was still there, 30 or so years before, it was still just a village. I don’t know how, or when, Arthur managed to raise a whole citadel or anything but…”

“What about you?” Pinocchio turned to the couple, “I know you’ve travelled around and you seemed to know Taliesin?”

“Our travels never took us near Camelot, I’m afraid.” Pierrot admitted, “Taliesin and I grew acquainted at other taverns and palaces throughout the realms, but never near his hometown.”

Pinocchio blinked, his bag laying abandoned at his feet. “So you’re telling me the only one that knew his way around there, was the man that just betrayed us?!”

“The kid too probably.” Regina added on with a shrug. “She’s been living there for a while so she was probably familiar with it too.”

“I- No.” The woodcarver shook his head, Pierrot feeling nothing but a pang of sympathy for his oldest friend. He shook his head again, more intensely this time as he exclaimed: “N-no! I-we can’t stop here!”

“I think, out of all of us, you’re the last person that should be making these calls, Pinocchio.” The queen chimed in once more.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” the brunette asked with a bite to his tone.

“You just lost your lover. You’re bitter, upset and look like you haven’t slept a wink. Your choice making right now is as reliable as a fish without water.”

“What? Because you think I’ll go on some revenge quest? Is that what you’re suggesting?!” The woodcarver exclaimed.

Pierrot pursed his lips, gripping Malvina’s hand tightly when he felt her try to move. He knew if it had been the red-headed lover of his friend, The Queen probably wouldn’t hesitate to make a scene already. But everything had been civil between her and the woodcarver. It was hard to say how it’ll be now.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed and her hands balled into fists, yet she made no advancements towards the brunette; only breathed in deeply. “No, but you’re not exactly in a state to make any reasonable decisions.”

“Losing Lampwick has got nothing to do with why I want to keep going! We’ve lost the sword and now you think it’s good to show up without at least some sort of aid?! I’m not stopping here, and I’m sure as hell not letting you talk me out of doing so.” Pinocchio continued, eyes misting and his voice shaking as he backed away from the group. “If any of you wish to go back home… do so, I won’t stop you. But I’m not going back until I at least try to fix this.”

His departure was as swift as his arrival, the man marching past and towards the forest that cropped up behind the bard. Pierrot let out a breath, feeling his beloved easing the hold she had on his hand as well. Regina let out a scoff, looking annoyed. And yet she moved to follow the woodcarver.

“You’re going after him? Even after all that?” Malvina asked.

“Well someone needs to make sure the block head doesn’t get himself killed. And no one else seems capable enough, so.” She raised her hands up in mock surrender, as she continued on her way along.

Grace walked by again, reaching for Pinocchio’s bag that still lay on the floor, Figaro proceeding to weave around her legs. Henry watched after the woodcarver, Pierrot watching the way his brows knotted tightly together and how tense his hold on his sword was. Lancelot cleared his throat, as he stepped closer to the prince.

“If you’d like to go back home, Henry, you lead the way. I’ll follow.”

The prince straightened up, casting one more glare after the brunette before turning back to the rest of the back. “Are the rest of you coming, or what?”

“I came here with Pinocchio and intend to stay at his side, come what may,” Malvina exclaimed, Pierrot giving her hand a tight squeeze.

“Wherever my friend, and lady, go, so do I.” he added on, barely catching the small smile Mal gave him.

“So this is where we part ways.” Henry nodded. “Good luck to you, I guess.”

Polaris had until then been standing off in her corner, looking like she wanted to say something and hopping from foot to foot. Her wings fluttered anxiously as she shuffled closer, holding her hands out for anyone to take. Lancelot and the Prince immediately reached out, Red soon joining them alongside the dragonness the moment the fire was put out. Malvina moved past as she walked after The Queen, Pierrot moving to follow her.

“Lancelot, before you go-” Grace exclaimed, Pierrot looking over on hearing the quiet mrrp of the woodcarver’s cat. The blonde handed the feline to the knight. “Get him to the innkeeper in our village. He’ll know what to do.” With a nod, Lancelot stepped back, carefully holding onto the squirming feline, as Polaris ushered them even closer to her, the group blinking away in a matter of moments.

The moment the group had disappeared in a bright flash, Grace took off, quickly catching up to the rest of the retreating party. Pinocchio had seemingly slowed his pace down with the queen now in the lead ahead. The fae couple walked closely behind her, yet Grace couldn’t be bothered to move any faster to get ahead of anyone. Instead she chose to trail behind next to the woodcarver.

Pinocchio had yet to acknowledge her presence, his brows furrowed and gaze fixed ahead. His hands were curled into his pocket from the looks of it. Clearly lost to his own mind. Wordlessly she held out the bag he had forgotten, Pinocchio blinking blankly down at it before taking it slowly.

“Where’s Figaro?” He mumbled.

“I gave him to Lancelot. Told him to get him back to Eugene.” Grace shrugged.

The man scowled. “And you didn’t think to ask before doing that?”

Lords above, he didn’t even give her a thank you for the bag fetching and was already giving her attitude?!

She spun round and glared at him. “Don’t take this out on me!” the woman snapped, grinding her teeth together when she realised just how loud that was and how taken aback the brunette looked. “We’re about to walk into Gods know what and bringing the cat along would only bring it harm and us more stress. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want any more of that.”

Pinocchio remained quiet, before silently hoisting the bag over his back and sighing.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” he murmured, Grace resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“It’s fine, I’m used to that kinda shit.” Not that the apology helped much anyway. The misery of what occurred last night had dug deep, and the woodcarver’s annoyance did little to curb her own frustrations about their current predicament.

It had been a long time since she and Pinocchio had a row of any sorts; it was usually her and Lampwick that got under each other’s skins nowadays. In the red-head’s case, it was mostly over petty shit, but still. Without him here now, it felt like whatever relationship she and the woodcarver had built was quickly eroding, leaving behind what foundations they originally started with.

She didn’t even know where the outburst had come from. Lack of sleep, maybe? That was probably it. She was usually composed enough, even in situations like this. Which made the bitterness she was already dealing with feel all the more worse.

“Was it wrong?” The woodcarver asked after a moment of silence.

“What?” she grumbled.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea for us to keep going?”

“I’m not the decision maker here, Pinocchio. If you thought it was a good idea to keep going then trust that choice.” She quipped back, sparing nothing but a glance the man’s way.

“Yeah well-”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She said nothing as the man looked away, his gaze trained on the trail they were walking down instead.

Grace sighed. She knew it was wrong to be getting snippy with him. None of what happened was his fault either. She probably should have just gone with the rest—the fight itself or whatever would have kept her distracted, she was sure. Better than feeling like she needed to babysit a man whose decision-making relied only on those around him rather than trusting his own thoughts for once in his life. Acting without thinking; that was a phrase she’d usually use on Lampwick, not his fiancé. But guess they weren’t that different. Guess that’s what drew them closer together than compared to anyone else.

Even her, her mind added bitterly.

She glanced back when she watched the man stumble, sighing noisily when he crouched down and clutched at his foot, wincing quietly. Gods was he always this dramatic and she just never bothered to notice or was this only right now?

“Pinocchio, it was probably just a tree root-” But she paused in her commentary on seeing the wild panicked look on the man’s face as he clung to his leg, all blood having drained from his face. He looked haunted… by what she couldn’t quite figure out. She froze, looking back the way they came. She didn’t really get why he was freaking out all of a sudden. A trip over air even wasn’t going to kill him.

“H-hey.” her expression softened, hearing the rest of the group ahead stop as she dropped down to her knees and reached out for the woodcarver’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re—you’re alright, Pinocchio.” her tone softened, even on hearing someone else approach. Malvina stepped around her, offering her a small smile as she turned to the woodcarver.

Grace could take a hint, she wasn’t that foolish to see she wasn’t needed here. So she backed off and continued onwards, her pace quickening in an attempt to escape the sounds of the man’s ongoing panic and the woman’s quiet assurances. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she let out a shaky sigh. That display was the last thing she had needed amidst everything today.

Gods, she should have gone back with the rest instead.

Even after calming him down, Malvina chose to stay at Pinocchio’s side. Or at least just a little behind him, given he didn’t seem willing to let anyone near him right now. He seemed… as okay as he could be, but that didn’t stop the old fae from worrying. She knew Pinocchio was often worried, even as a kid, that the slightest mishap could lead to an irreparable change. But for him to think an accident would be enough to do it…

She wasn’t upset with him, oh no. She knew exactly who had caused such strife, and if they weren’t making their way towards a kingdom set in a whole other land, she wouldn’t have hesitated to teleport back and give the wretched woman a piece of her mind. To have instilled so much terror over something that could happen in a boy… It was inexcusable!

Still… There was nothing that she could do for him at this moment, except reassure. The humanity he so desperately wished to never lose wasn’t going to go away and especially not after the events that occurred here. Lampwick, Iskra and the kid’s death were an unfortunate accident; he wasn’t at fault for it.

The group stood outside the massive citadel, looking past the gate that The Queen had left them after saying she was going to make sure they weren’t hit with any surprises. It didn’t take long for the ongoing active chatter behind the walls to fall silent, Regina walking out soon after.

“The coast is clear,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Grace muttered, the queen giving her a shrug.

“No, but if we come across anyone still wide awake as someone high on caffeine, then we can use that pretty little dust of yours, okay? Now let’s go, before those single digits double back to one hundred percent again.”

Without comment they walked in, Regina once more taking the lead ahead of them. But Malvina found herself pausing and glancing the opposite direction they were heading in.

She could see a village spread out, spying a few folk slumped against walls or stalls, all very clearly asleep. She looked down the road the others were walking down and saw the massive palace looming over the town.

“This place is a lot bigger than I expected.” She heard Pierrot say as she caught back up with the group.

“Well a kingdom doesn’t sound like it’d be the size of a village, now would it?” The Queen pointed out.

Malvina huffed, as she reached out and took Pierrot’s hand. “And yet thirty or something years ago it was exactly that.”

“Yeah. Makes you wonder which God Arthur made a deal with to build this Rome in a day?”

The blue-haired maiden frowned. “What?”

But her question went unanswered, when the sound of something falling made the rest of the group come to a halt.

“What was that?” Grace asked right as Malvina glanced back.

There wasn’t anyone or anything behind them. The road behind them was as deserted as it had been when they first walked through.

“Stay alert. Like I said, there was no guarantee I got everyone.” The queen warned, prompting the rest to follow wordlessly after her.

The longer they walked the more wary Malvina found herself growing. The Queen hadn’t even bothered to check any alleyway or anything, as though she had the whole of the kingdom mapped out and was just following those directions. She quickly moved around the group until she caught up to the dark-haired woman, looking down at the lack of any directional tools. Her eyes narrowed.

“How do you know your way around here so well?”

“Because I’ve been here before.” The queen responded simply, Malvina straightening up.

“And you didn’t think to say anything?”

“Would you have agreed to me leading you guys along?” The Queen looked over, her expression deadpan.

It made Malvina pause. Would they have let her lead? The last time she insisted on taking the lead the group had protested, more or less. But in this case it was hard to say; they were desperate and had no clue where they were actually going.

And yet the feud earlier came to mind immediately, and it made her wonder some more. It probably wouldn’t have been the most appreciated idea if she thought about it some more…

They reached what appeared to be the town square, Malvina coming to a halt when she spied something on her distant right.

“Is that a statue?” She asked, hearing the others stop as well. She couldn’t really parcel the figure out but it stood pretty still beneath the tree it was under. She was at least sure it wasn’t a person that might have gotten hit by the queen’s spell.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Said the queen, as the ex-fae took the lead towards it.

The closer they got, the easier it was to see what they were looking at. Malvina gasped, noticing that the figure wasn’t standing on anything, but instead just hanging under the tree to which it was tied to.

She heard the queen scoff, “What kind of people leave a corpse hanging on the-”

Her commentary trailed off. But not without reason. Malvina could feel her own heart coming to a complete halt as she stared up at the forgotten body in horror.

The bruising under the rope that wrapped around the body’s neck was as black as night, and their pale skin looked almost blue; whether because of the cold or how long it’s been without a pulse it was hard for the fairy to say. The rot hadn’t had much of a chance to set in under the sheet of snow on his shoulders, but that didn’t mean his fingers or leg weren’t missing. Malvina noted the blood on the floor as well, and looked up at the large gash on the individual’s shoulder, drenching his torn coat even more in red. She stepped back, her head spinning as she took in the dead man’s appearance. It was strikingly familiar. The pale hair and lifeless dark eyes… She knew she had seen him before. And the coat he wore was unmistakable. But it couldn’t be! It shouldn’t be possible.

Before she could say anything, Grace had shoved her to the side, managing to catch the crossbow bolt that had previously been aimed at her.

“Go!” The Queen exclaimed, the rest wasting no time in taking off into a sprint. She cast a ball of flame, throwing it at the perpetrator that had taken them off-guard, but that was the last Malvina saw of her as they ran for the castle. Grace wasted no time in throwing out the sleeping dust, the former fae helping the woman with a sprinkle of her own magic at anyone they crossed paths with, right until they ran into the palace and shut the door behind them. Malvina pressed her hand to the keyhole, hearing the lock turn successfully.

“What about the queen?!” she heard Pierrot call, right as a cloud of purple smoke formed next to him.

“Thanks for ditching me back there!” she snapped, shaking out her ash-coated skirt.

“You’re the one that told us to go!!” Grace countered loudly.

Malvina leaned back against the wall, blinking rapidly as the arguing continued. The adrenaline was quick to fade, the woman watching the world spin once more.

“You could have helped at least!”

“Oh yeah, with what exactly?! I’m not about to become a meat shield against an archer.”

“You have a sword and you could teleport last time I fought you!!”

“And you think that that dust is so easy to get a hold of?! Give me a break your majesty, were you that helpless that your fireballs couldn’t handle one guy?!”

She needed to sit down.

Malvina slid to the floor, feeling her arms trembling beneath her as she did so. She ignored the bickering women altogether as her eyes drew shut. Pinocchio was hopelessly trying to mediate the situation, and maybe Mal could have tried to help him out with it, but right now she just— didn’t have the will-power to do so. Not after what they had seen. The state he had been left in… she could feel her insides curling at the reminder. She didn’t dare close her eyes as she breathed in deeply, the image of the poor, dead fellow still strongly imposing her mind.

She looked up when a hand touched her shoulder, seeing her dear Pierrot looking down at her with concern. She leaned more into the touch and reeled in the man’s warmth and eager understanding of what it was she needed right now. He settled down next to her and curled his arm around her shoulder. But despite how much she wanted to, she couldn’t relax. Not after what they just saw.

“That happened, right? We all… we all saw the same thing at that tree, didn’t we?” She asked, for once not daring to speak any louder.

The hall calmed down right away, Grace giving a scoff in response.

“Wish I hadn’t. That was horrifying.”

“That-that’s not the point. I mean, yes it was gross, but— how is that possible?” Malvina continued, shaking her head sadly. “How is it possible that we saw Taliesin hanging and looking like he had been doing so for days if not longer just now?”

“Not to mention he fell from the cliff last night as well, didn’t he?” Pinocchio pointed out quietly as he looked at the blonde, Grace only glaring down at the ground before turning away from the conversation entirely.

“… Unless the one we met wasn’t actually him?” Pierrot guessed, Malvina looking up curiously, “Taliesin may have magic but it wasn’t so strong that he could cast a sleeping spell.”

“You never know. He could have been practising.” The Queen shrugged.

“No, no I- I know him. I knew him, long before this. He could conjure up some mini little instruments or music as accompaniment when we were short on numbers, but nothing grandiose. And besides,” Pierrot’s brows furrowed further, “I thought it was just my imagination at first but now… the person we travelled with recently? He seemed unknowing of knowledge he should have possessed, his attitude overall was strange at the least. Not to mention he was no fighter.”

Malvina nodded her head in agreement.

“So you’re suggesting that the one we saw was a fake?” The Queen asked, “Someone that shape-shifted to look like him?”

“I don’t know… maybe. How else would you explain the phenomenon we just saw in the town square?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay?!” Grace cut in, Malvina looking over to see the woman glaring at the group, her hands stuffed in her pockets. “Whatever happened, happened. It’s not up to us to solve every fucking mystery Camelot throws at us. Let’s just get the wizard out of the tree and get home to the people that need us. And before the city wakes up.”

She then shouldered past them and took off walking down one of the halls. Malvina watched on, distracted only by The Queen’s grumbling as she marched after the blonde, quickly taking the lead ahead. The blue-haired maiden’s eyes narrowed.

The group’s insistence on wandering off in any and all directions they wish to, pissed The Queen off beyond belief. Neither of them knew where they were going yet they marched down some random hall without any second thought. It didn’t take her long to catch up to the blonde incessant on putting as much distance between herself and everyone else in the room, taking the lead down one of the many halls. Anyone they ran into Regina took great pleasure knocking down in what way possible. Mostly with a quick snap of her fingers to magically knock them out. Or with that dust Mad-hatter junior had, if she beat her to the punch.

Their maze run of the palace finally reached the door of the courtyard, Regina looking up at the giant willow tree that stood in its centre.

“Is this it?” she heard Grace ask, The queen humming as she looked the tree up and down.

“I’d say so.” She pressed her hands to her hips. Same strange aura, same looking tree. She scoffed loudly. “Well, guess the Wish Realm gave up with Camelot’s originality I guess.”

“What?”

The fairy asked, but Regina ignored her question altogether. Her attention was on the top window of the tower not far from where they were standing.

“Give me a minute.”

With a flick of her wrists she disappeared in a cloud of smoke, finding herself in an all too familiar room. She didn’t even bother looking around for what she needed, only reached for the book on the shelf she knew was on there and took out the ingredients written on its pages. Everything she was looking for was exactly where she had expected it to be. Did this place forget about originality? It was just too easy.

With her hands loaded she breathed in deeply, The Queen getting engulfed in purple smoke once more and reappearing next to the group. She let the spell tome fall out of her hand and float in front of her. Seeing a bright flash of white light next to her, The Queen looked over curiously, seeing the table that had materialised right next to her. She smirked.

“The Spell of Lost Love?” Malvina asked, Regina laying the ingredients out onto the table. She flicked her hand to pull the book away from the nosy woman, frowning when she felt a resistance and saw that Malvina was holding onto it.

The blue-haired woman frowned, “How did you know what spell you’re looking for?”

The Queen scoffed, giving another tug on the book and relinquishing the fairy’s hold on it. “Consider it first-hand experience.” She commented as she ran her finger over the words on the page, seeing the fairy doing the same over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve all the ingredients we need. Don’t worry your little blue self, fairy.”

“Really. Even tears of lost love.” she asked, sounding sceptical.

Oh she couldn’t be this dimwitted.

Regina stepped away from her work with a sneer. “Why the fuck would I say I had everything if we didn’t have that?” She pointed at the woodcarver, “We have a perfect source for them right here, have you all forgotten that?”

Pinocchio’s already downcast frown deepened. “Excuse me?”

She gave the woodcarver an unimpressed glance. “What? Did you need them?”

“And you’re sure this is going to work?” Malvina asked, as The Queen worked to stir in the ingredients she already had.

Regina scoffed again. “Oh please, your little realm isn’t as creative as Isaac tried to get with ours. Everything’s been the same so far, so I’m willing to bet Merlin was locked up after having his heart broken. So as long as we have the tears of another broken heart then everything’s fine.”

“Can’t you just use someone else’s? Not… torment them out of someone who’s grieving right now.”

The queen sighed. “If I could I’d have already done it. But it doesn’t work like that, the feelings need to be fresh. And the fresher the feelings are, the more chances we have of succeeding. Again,” she looked back, “first-hand experience.”

“Kind of strange that we’re using the same thing he was trapped with to get him out, don’t you think?” the bard asked.

The Queen withheld the need to roll her eyes as she scoffed.

Yeah that’s because you don’t understand shit about magic, despite who you decided to marry.

“Have any of you been bitten by a venomous snake before?” She quizzed as she looked back at the bard. Pierrot shook his head.

“I was.” Grace chimed in, “When I was really young.”

“And what did father dearest use to cure you, huh, junior?”

The blonde’s lips curled upwards. “He used the same venom that I was poisoned with to make an antidote. An anti-venom in that case.”

“I don’t really see where you’re going with this.” Pierrot commented. Pinocchio nodded along.

The Queen relinquished another sigh.

“Gods above guys, does it really need to be spelled out for you?!” Grace snapped, much to the Queen’s surprise. “An antidote to snake venom is created from the very same poison you would be struck with. It’s called ‘Anti-venom’ for a reason. It’s literally in the name. If he was put under with tears of lost love-”

“Then we need a spell using those same types of tears to counteract it.” Malvina concluded.

The queen smirked. “Huh. Madhatter’s got quite the bite for the rabbit her father used to see her as.”

“Can it, your majesty!” The blonde spat, the queen rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, yes, that’s exactly it. The spell was a matter of the heart. And the deeper the wound is the stronger this spell will be. I don’t know how strong Merlin’s love was for whoever it might have been but I’m not stupid enough to see how much agony your little woody friend is in here.” The queen pointed out, gesturing at the woodcarver as he grew all the more stiffer.

“Your heart has broken, Pinocchio. And I’m not saying any of us had our hearts broken at any point in time either, I mean,” she huffed, “I crusaded against a ten year old girl for almost fifty years after what pain she brought about. But that was a long time ago and I’ve since moved on. The fairy and her theatre doll here have done the same since they were ripped apart from one another. but you— Your heartbreak isn’t just intense but also very fresh and recent. And will be for a while.”

“You don't have to tell me. I know. I know what it feels like.” Pinocchio murmured, his head dropping low as he did so.

Nothing. Not even a sniffle. What a pointless waste of ingredients. The Queen sneered, as she backed away from the rest. “There’s no other way around this. But I can’t force you and neither can anyone else here. It’s got to be willing. But if not, unless we find another solution to this matter, then we may as well consider this quest a fucking failure and go home.” With that she marched into the tower, slamming the door shut behind her.

He wasn’t sure what it was, whether the stifling awkward air outside or the need to know, but not too soon after The Queen had departed, Pinocchio had found himself following after her. Maybe it was a case of both, even. He knew what Malvina would want to do right now and as much as he appreciated her comfort he couldn’t accept it at that moment. It was all too much. The journey throughout the unknown land had drained him of what little energy he still seemed to have… and that’s not accounting for the toll of what had happened to cause him such strife in the first place. To reach Merlin they needed a broken heart to weep, so they can use their tears for the potion. He wasn’t exactly looking to become the sacrificial lamb here tonight no matter what was at stake. It was the last thing he needed right now. It was the last thing he wanted…

He really didn’t know what to do at this point. It seemed like no matter where he looked and what choice he made it led to another dead end. He really had no other choice than to face the inevitable and go back home to tell Blue how badly he fucked up this time. Guess that’s the one thing that would never change about him; he was a good-for-nothing pile of sticks back then, and still is now. He disobeyed her request, lied, lost the sword, hell, even defied the prince, and, on top of that, failed to get Merlin out despite saying he would. Some of those in the span of one sun-rise to sunset. He may as well turn as solid as the tree trunk in the courtyard right then and there. Yet even now, here he was, opening the door, still eager to hold off the inevitable for a little longer with the distraction that the queen had, perhaps, unintentionally placed forth before them.

He peeked inside. She sat by the window with her back to him, drumming her fingers impatiently against the wood of the table. He could barely catch a glimpse of his reflection from behind her, the woodcarver wondering if she had noticed the same before he could even speak up.

“Regina?”

The drumming stopped.

“What?”

Pinocchio breathed in as he shut the door behind him and walked over to the table. He couldn’t help but glance at the various beakers and tomes sitting on top of it, now covered with dust from lack of use. But that wasn’t why he was here.

“You mentioned something about first-hand experience and I couldn’t help but wonder about what you meant with that.”

The queen let out a breath. “Let’s say The Camelot in the real realm? It wasn’t so different from this one. Of course Mordred wasn’t a threat, it was someone else, but… we tried to get Merlin out. And succeeded of course but it took… certain measures to do so.” The queen turned around, her expression morphing from her usual scowl to something more solemn, even regretful. Pinocchio sat down on the stool next to her as she shrugged. “I suggested at first that we used my tears for the spell but it failed to work. Because even recalling the pain and moment of what happened that day years later… I had still moved on since it happened. As had Daniel.”

Pinocchio frowned. “Daniel?”

“He was my fiancé.”

The man’s heart clenched immediately. “I-I thought you said-”

“The little wretch at the time broke a secret that got him killed.” She spat vehemently, Pinocchio’s eyes widening. Regina scoffed, “Suppose she never told the people her little secret, huh?”

“Not like I had any reason to ask.” The brunette shrugged. Why would he? It wasn’t any of his business. What transpired between the Queen and… well… the Evil Queen bore little weight for him. His father concerned himself with those matters while Pinocchio was still a child. By the time he was old enough to handle the burden of sitting at the stone table, The Evil Queen of their realm had long since been banished. The hatred the older folks had for her still remained, but he simply didn’t find it in him to be bothered with it. She was gone for good. Why think about her past transgressions any further?

Regina scoffed. “Daniel and I planned to elope. Snow White found out. I made her promise to not tell my mother knowing that she wouldn’t approve of our relationship. Turns out the little kid felt like she knew my mother better than I did and told her of our plan.” Her eyes narrowed, Pinocchio watching her clench not just her jaw but also her fists, “I watched that witch rip his heart out and crush it right in front of me. For decades I couldn’t find it in me to forget about that pain. How would you even go about doing such a thing after seeing something like that?!”

Pinocchio’s shoulders dropped. So that’s what happened? That’s what turned her?

“I’m so sorry.”

The Queen breathed out a laugh, though she didn’t seem to find anything about this funny. “I only ever wanted to be happy, to find that happy ending. Turns out no matter where I turn the universe had decided I just couldn’t have that. There’s no happiness set aside for Regina Mills. I’m ‘The Evil Queen’ afterall. It’s the only title to my name. Why should someone like that achieve what only heroes could have?”

“Guess that’s something we have in common, huh?” Pinocchio hummed softly, his eyes falling on the ring that now sat so heavily on his finger.

“You’re a hero, Pinocchio. Just because you don’t feel like one that doesn’t change what your role already is. You achieved your happy ending, you became real-”

“And yet despite that, time moves on and anytime I still make a choice for myself someone gets hurt. Is that really a happy ending, or an ever-looping curse?” He quizzed as he glanced up. Regina’s mouth clamped shut, the woman saying nothing even as he turned back to his lap again.

His eyes were drawn back to the ring again, feeling his chest grow tighter and tighter.

“How long?”

He looked up when the queen spoke. She nodded to the betrothal ring on his finger.

“How long would you guys have been...?”

Pinocchio’s shoulders drooped. “We never got around to it either,” he explained, looking back down at the ring he was twisting once more. “We planned for next year but now…” His eyes closed as he breathed in, a soft smile gracing his face. “He was so mad when I proposed, you know. Said he had a whole plan set up, apparently. But I swooped in and stole the show before he even got a chance to enact it.”

“Apparently?”

Pinocchio chuckled, feeling his eyes sting. “It’s such-” a sharp inhale “-such a typical Lampwick thing. He’s a ‘spur of a moment’ kinda guy. He’d look for the right moment and spring it, acting like that was his plan the whole time. But it’s all an act. It was cute though. Would have been… four years this summer…” The smile faded and his grip on the ring tightened. “I wasn’t ready to lose him.”

“Yeah, well, who is ready for this kinda shit, huh?” The queen pointed out, “You’ve no choice but to move on now.”

“You make it sound like it’s the easiest thing on the planet.”

As his eyes closed, the queen sighed. But there was no response he could give. His throat was suddenly so tight, that the mere idea of talking sounded impossible. He could feel his hands trembling. He had to hold out… but it was growing more and more difficult to do so.

“I’ve lost more than I could count.” He heard her explain. “My fiancé was murdered by my mother, I killed my father to enact a curse as a form of revenge, I watched someone I had grown to love, someone I was told was my second chance at a Happy Ending, die right before my very eyes as he rushed to protect me. It’s never gotten easier.”

“Well, isn’t that quite disappointing.” The man bit out, feeling the something warm trickle down his cheek, but no longer had the will to stop it. Gods above, why him? Why now…?

He sniffed, hearing the queen sigh and get up.

“.........It'll heal with time.” she assured. Pinocchio glanced up right as she reached out and carefully wiped at the tears that trickled down his cheek. She gave him a strange smile. “But for now, your heartbreak is what we needed. So thanks for that little moment, I guess.”

She was soon out the door, leaving the man to the misery he had inevitably led himself into.

Malvina let out a long breath as soon as The Queen walked off, watching Pinocchio disappear into the same tower soon after her. It left her curious, but she figured giving him space right now was what he’d most need. Especially after the show Regina had just put on. Her focus instead fell upon the blonde woman, who after her own little display had moved to the very far side of the courtyard with smoke rising around her. The former fae’s eyes narrowed.

She had been concerned since hearing her snap at Pinocchio on their way towards the citadel, something she had wished she relented on, given how much the man was already putting up with. But guess it couldn’t be helped now.

She approached quietly, the woman paying her no mind as she gazed into the faraway distance, her eyes looking sadder by the minute. She noted the pipe in her mouth, a puff of smoke leaving her. Malvina reeled back. For a moment she reminded her a little too much of the man they had just lost; from her pensive expression and dark, angry eyes, profusely refusing to look at her.

“You smoke?” she asked before she could stop herself, the woman practically bracing herself the moment she had spoken. The sadness dissipated, leaving room for annoyance to take root instead.

“Does it bother you?” Grace muttered.

“No, just- I don’t remember… seeing you with a pipe until now.”

“It’s not exactly a daily activity, but sometimes the need arises.” She shrugged, Malvina’s frown deepening. The need seemed quite obvious to her, but she didn’t expect that comment to go over very well. As the silence prevailed, the blonde grumbled.

“What do you want?”

Malvina tilted her head to the side curiously. “Can we talk?”

The woman snarked, “What? Your husband not up for a chat all of a sudden?”

The fae couldn’t help but sigh. A part of her had hoped she’d be more… easier to talk with, compared to someone else. But alas, suppose she was expecting reason from an unreasonable situation.

“He is, but we can talk at any time. I don’t think I’d get another chance with you from the looks of it.”

“Cute.”

Malvina pulled herself up onto the wall, watching the woman pat out the remains from the pipe, and extinguishing any embers with her boot in the snow. Mal only watched on. She noted the dark circles under her eyes, the way her hands shook just a touch as she began fiddling with her nails, her expression a reigning storm. “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed rather… off today.”

The blonde rolled back her eyes. “Brilliant observation skills, my lady. I wonder why that could be the case.” She sneered, casting a quick glance the blue-haired woman’s way.

Malvina’s expression softened, feeling the guilt rise up as she realised one very unfortunate fact. In her attempts to look out for Pinocchio, she had neglected the other person that had been affected by the loss. And it seemed no one else had checked in on her either.

“I understand you’re hurting right now. Really, I do. I’ve been there I’ve felt… responsible for the fate of someone I loved too.”

And she did… in the end she knew the one to blame was the unfair system she was born into and told to just accept. The one that claimed that love just wasn’t something she could have. But that never stopped those spiralling thoughts when she was forced into sudden solitude. The thoughts of how she had been responsible for whatever might have happened to Pierrot. It only grew worse when they finally lay eyes on one another again, and he had almost lost his life right then and there. Pierrot never blamed her for it. No matter how much she insisted, he never wavered on that. It helped her to overcome her own feelings of guilt. But before then she had been devastated and angry at something she felt she should have controlled.

Grace hadn’t elaborated on how things had gone down when it came to the confrontation between… whoever that might have been, much less how things went with Lampwick. But she hadn’t been deaf to her apologies last night. And watching the guarded display she was putting on today—

“But taking it out on others-”

The picking stopped as Grace whipped around. “Oh, so Pinocchio can throw a whole hissy fit because things weren’t going his way, but I give one person the stink eye or react wrongly once or twice and get reprimanded for it? Give me a break!” She exclaimed with a glare.

The blue-haired fairy’s eyes narrowed, straightening up indigently as she exclaimed:

“That is not what I’m trying to do!”

“Then what do you want?!” Grace demanded, her tone louder than the fae’s, enough to grasp the bard’s attention nearby. “What are you trying to say here?!”

“Just—,” Malvina took a deep breath, speaking softly once more, “know that there are folks here that you can talk with about this. You don’t have to put up with everything alone.”

The woman had grown beet red by then, her fist coiling tightly at her side, threatening to break the pipe she was still holding. Malvina could see she was just barely holding onto whatever composure she still seemed to have, even when she inhaled sharply and pulled away from the wall she was leaning again.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about this, okay? Not with you, not with anyone else here. I don’t need it.” Grace hissed, looking more tired than ever before. Even the glare she was trying to give was weak compared to how she probably wanted it to come across. “You came here for one person and one person only, so just stick with him and don’t go nosing in my business. If he wants to talk, by all means, but I don’t need your help with my shit.”

She stalked off before Malvina could say anything else. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She had hoped the woman would be a little more willing and cooperative. But there was nothing more she could really do here. She hopped off the wall, ready to move back to her lover’s side right as The Queen marched out of the tower, holding up a single handkerchief triumphantly.

“Got what we need. Now stand back, this spell was pretty intense the last time.”

Malvina froze, her teeth grounding together. “What did you do?!” she demanded, already making her way towards the tower.

The Queen scoffed. “Don’t worry I didn’t hurt your little marionette for this, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

The assurance wasn’t well received, as she opened the door to the tower anyway and quickly disappeared inside.

Grace watched on as the fairy disappeared into the tower. Unsurprising to her really, and yet quite ironic that that happened right what she just said. Despite her bitterness over the matter, however, her gut churned guiltily, still hoping the woodcarver was okay after whatever had transpired there.

“And you’re sure that this is what he was trapped with? And it wasn’t anything else?” Pierrot tested, pulling Grace’s attention onto the queen now picking the beaker up.

The queen shrugged. “Well consider this our first take on this little experiment of ours, huh? We have the whole night to fool around if I end up being wrong.”

And so she dipped the handkerchief into it. It didn’t take long for the rest of the potion to react to the touch of the tear, The Queen enveloped by a haze of purple and white. The beaker fell from her hands and broke the moment it collided with the ground, but her attention remained on the swirling light and darkness. Grace couldn’t help but squint and grip at the wall behind her, as the pull of magic grew stronger and stronger. She braced herself as The Queen thrust her hands forward, the blonde shielding her face as soon as the tendrils made contact with the tree. The courtyard was engulfed in a blinding light, forcing Grace to look away.

But as the blaze of light faded she peeked around, noticing the bard turn back as well. The queen hadn’t moved from her place, her chest puffed out proudly. And when Grace looked to where the tree once stood, it was replaced by the silhouette of a crouching figure.

She heard the door to the tower get thrown open, Malvina and Pinocchio presumably finally joining them. But she paid them no mind. Her entire attention remained on the stranger crouched before them, shrouded by a dark material, whose embroidery sparkled in the distant starlight. She waited with a bated breath as they rose up from the floor, the individual still covered from head to toe in their blue and gold cloak. The material sagged the moment they straightened, falling like a waterfall around at their feet. The sleeves drooped even as they raised their arms up and slowly pulled their hood down and revealed their face. The man let out a breath, as he dusted his coat down.

“Well now, this is quite the turnout.”

“That’s it? No— flashy entrances?! No “I’ve been waiting for you”?!” The Queen exclaimed, Grace withholding the need to roll her eyes at the woman’s out-of-nowhere outrage.

The once trapped man blinked and smiled. “Well I can’t say that when I wasn’t expecting this, your majesty.”

Now, Grace could be picturing it, but she swore there was a certain amount of mischief twinkling in the older wizard’s eyes as he spoke, even when The Queen pouted.

“There were many paths I witnessed that brought about this event, but it would seem the one you all took had eluded me.”

“Well that’s fucking disappointing.” the witch muttered.

This time Grace couldn’t hold back as she scoffed loudly. The woman needed to get a grip of herself; not everyone was going to wait on her with a red carpet or something.

“You’re really Merlin?” Pierrot asked, the man grinning.

“Suppose you were expecting someone… older?” He guessed, Pierrot giving a shrug in response. “Let’s say being a tree for five hundred years is good for your skin.”

“Yeah and it seems eternal youth runs in the family.” Regina added on snidely, perplexing the older wizard. But he quickly shook his head, giving another soft smile.

“In spite of how this turned out, I do believe I owe you all a thank you, for setting me free from my prison. I trust it wasn’t an easy feat to do so.” Merlin nodded gratefully, and Grace couldn’t help but scoff again, maybe louder this time.

‘Yeah, let’s say certain sacrifices shouldn’t have been made to accomplish this.’ She pointed out bitterly daring to glance back at Pinocchio. The man’s gaze was locked on his shoes. The wizard looked over in surprise, maybe even a touch of guilt before he turned to look around the rest of the party. Seemed their less than good state hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“You all seem troubled. And I don't believe it to be whatever ever foreboding events await us now.”

Pinocchio sighed, finally looking up. “It's been a long day. And night. And we lost some that we cared about along the way here.”

Merlin’s expression dimmed. “I'm truly sorry. It is never an easy experience to deal with grief so great.”

“Funny you say that yet seem to be in little pain over the loss of your own child.” The queen quipped, Grace for once finding herself in begrudging agreement with the woman.

“My-” The old wizard’s eyes widened, “My daughter? Bethan is gone?”

“She fell along with my betrothed on our way here.” Pinocchio hung his head once more as he spoke, his eyes stuck to the toes of his shoes.

Grace felt like she was looking at a petulant school child being scolded when she looked at him, not that she didn’t understand the feeling right now; what with the biting ache that had sunk its teeth into her throat once more and made it hard to breathe.

She should have been faster; she should have been stronger.

“I'm really sorry.”

Merlin shook his head solemnly. “I do not fault you for the tragedy that befell her. It’s only a shame that it came to be before I could at last see her.”

“You’ve never seen her?” The bard chipped in once more.

“While being stuck as a tree gave me the power to hand prophecies out to kings and heroes alike, I had no means of being able to watch over her. I had only hoped she was alright until now.”

Grace’s fist curled tightly in her pockets, her mind broiling by the man’s comment.

“Define ‘alright’, given she was starved, covered in scars, freezing and wearing rags until we found her.” she exclaimed, her voice shaking. The sudden anger was unexpected but not unfamiliar. She wanted to shout, yell her frustrations at the man, similarly to how she had done years ago at yet another man that had left his daughter for years, and acted so very casually as though nothing had happened between them. As though she hadn’t been forced to grow while he was… somewhere else.

The state of the child and her scared gaze and questions would haunt Grace for days to come. Even now she could remember that moment before the bath—how ready she had been about being sent away; cast out like some… old rag no one needed or wanted. No child should have felt like that! No child should have been forced to survive out there on their own!! Especially not one who’s parents should have been making a difference.

As though reading her very mind, Malvina spoke up. “For such a powerful wizard, I’m surprised your fate is what hindered your ability to protect her.”

Merlin sighed. “I’m afraid that is something we’ll have to talk about once all else is taken care of. We have little time to waste, because Mordred is not working alone.”

The Queen huffed. “Given he has a whole army at his disposal-”

“The army is hardly our concern, their numbers aren’t that large.” Merlin interjected as he walked by, prompting the group to follow him out of the courtyard and back into the palace halls. “But there’s something else. Someone far more dangerous at his side than just the knights he’s convinced of joining his quest.”

“Oh don’t bother with hints and guessing games, my dear, they’ll never get it right.” The voice of a woman echoed through the halls they were walking in, the group halting in their tracks. Grace couldn’t help but find herself growing stiffer as she looked around. The call was followed up by a bout of laughter.

“Behind you, my dear.”

Grace froze at the grating voice in her head and she involuntarily whipped around, looking at the cloaked stranger that now stood in the doorway they previously walked down.

They stepped forward, their feet barren of any covering. The hood carefully slipped off of their head and revealed a mess of dark, almost black hair on a woman’s head. Under her unkempt fringe, only one, blue eye stared unblinkingly at them, the other permanently shut. She looked no older than Grace, yet the blonde couldn’t help but ponder if she wasn’t older. The woman’s smile grew.

“Isn’t it a shame, dear Emrys? How little these younglings seem to know about us? But I suppose our history is as unknown as how you ended up stuck in your five hundred year prison.”

“What brought about my fate is unimportant right now.” Merlin stated, as he pursed his lips together. “Not while you falsely lead your son down a road far from what the prophecy foretold, Morgause.”

Son?

“Oh yes, because your prodigy had it all figured out, didn’t he? Chasing after a broken dream until it killed him.” Morgause continued, her smirk growing.

“Arthur was misguided, a mistake of my own doing.”

“Well nice to see you own up to it. Now how about we leave the ones that understood the matter better to complete your prophecy and restore Camelot to its true former glory.”

“If you believe conquering the rest of the realm is the one way to accomplish this then you’re no more misled than Arthur had been. Mordred has no claims over the Kingdom. Not the way Arthur had. This wasn’t how the prophecy is supposed to go.”

The witch laughed, “Uther Pendragon had no rightful claims to a throne which he stole!! And even if he did, there’s no telling whether the sword will answer to just his blood alone or that boy’s mother’s! You were unwise to think this was the only way the prophecy would go.” She cocked her head to the side, curiously so, “No event is ever set in stone, old friend. Not even the sword you struck into these lands centuries ago. My son has set out to complete what the old king had failed to accomplish, and this time, he will succeed.”

Grace could feel a headache forming the more this went on, The onslaught of information was continuous and each word that left the immortals’ mouths were even more confusing to figure out than the last. Prophecy? Uther?

“Mordred’s role was supposed to end at Camlann. You and I both know this.” Merlin pointed out.

Morgause’s smirk immediately vanished. “You’re a foolish man, Merlin!!” Her expression morphed to a snarl, “You may have received your might from the gods themselves, but that does not make you one of them. You may pass the messages on but not dictate how one should follow through with it! Your view of the future means nothing!”

“And neither does yours, Morgause. May I remind you where your place lies, when it comes to spinning the threads of fate.” In the face of the woman’s anger, the wizard’s calm demeanour remained, “You’re blinded by your need for revenge, and so you seek to destroy what the future was supposed to hold.”

“You understand nothing. You sacrificed your daughter’s chance at a life for the love of a woman that was long gone. Trapped as the willow you wept to become for five centuries, all the while your lover’s blood tainted that child’s very being until her death.” The woman continued to snap, her words hitting some mark, if the man’s sudden flinch indicated anything, “I won’t take words of wisdom from a man that’s lost it all, because unlike you, I’ve yet to lose again.” With her head held high she pulled her hand out from beneath the cloak, Grace letting out a strangled gasp at the familiar weapon.

“Here I am, on my son’s side once more and holding the sword. We have nearly the whole land to our disposal while you’re still holding on to whatever string you think is the right one.” Morgause cast a glance her way, Grace feeling a sudden chill at the weirdly familiar smirk she was giving her. She blinked as the witch held the sword high above, the chipped end gleaming in the setting sun.

Something felt wrong about this. Something felt… she felt almost delusional feeling like she’d seen this display before. But-

“And I have these simple individuals to thank for it all. Especially her.” She pointed the broken tip at Grace, the blonde feeling everyone’s eyes fall on her. “I have to admit, your cooperation was quite the surprise, but certainly not an unwelcome treat.”

Her blood ran cold. Those words… that wasn’t the first time she heard them be said. “You… It was you.” she murmured, her eyes widening in horror. “You were him this whole time? You impersonated Taliesin with magic?!”

The woman’s smile curled wider. “I wasn’t wrong to think you were the smarter one.”

“No, I wasn’t the one that realised something was going on, it was the man you got killed!” Grace ground out as she looked back at Pinocchio, “Lampwick said he had felt a familiar feeling around him when he got close to Taliesin, back at the gingerbread house. He must have meant magic!” She watched her brother’s fiancé’s eyes widen, the colour draining from his face as reality sunk in for him as well.

It should have clicked back then. Out of all of them, Lampwick would recognise the feeling of magic in a heartbeat. He had always been strangely adept to the aura it carried since the moment she knew him. It made sense that he’d probably pick up on it.

The now familiar stranger before them feigned surprise, before letting out a short breath.

“Such a shame you didn’t bother to listen to him before it was too late then, hm? He could have still been here with us.”

Grace could feel her hands shaking. She reached for the knife strapped to her belt, her blood boiling dangerously as she gripped at it and watched the woman brush a finger over the blade of the sword. She wasn’t wrong, Gods if she had given his words more than just a benefit of the doubt then maybe Lampwick would still be here. How stupid was she? She’d never ignore a strange feeling when she got one; why did she dismiss his?! What was she thinking?!

“Ah well, you can’t turn back the clock now, dearest. The same way you can’t wish the dead to life.” Morgause crooned mockingly, Grace’s grip tightening on the knife. “The sword is in the right hands now and that’s all that matters. Wouldn’t you agree, Merlin?” she straightened up once more, her tight-lipped grin widening once more. “And oh, Arthur was a coward to keep this glorious blade in all its broken glory hidden away from the world, pursuing a life-long quest and achieving nothing. We’re ending this. And with Hochwasser and Prince now in our reach, our quest is almost done.”

  — CENTURIES AGO... —

A voice echoed through the cavern, where a middle-aged woman sat on a boulder, rocking a little cradle made of vines and thorns. In the guarded cot, lay a child wrapped in cloth up to his arms, whose hands were tightly closed as he slept. The little boy slept peacefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, with only occasional twitches and furrowed-brow frowns.

His mother sang a melody that seemed to cling heavily to the walls it reverberated against, voice deep and yet soft.

“Am loch i m-maig,

Am brí a ndai,”

I am a Lake on a Plain,

I am a Hill of Poetry

She smiled as the words rang out. She had to trust what her sister once said about Uther’s legacy falling at their hand. Especially after watching her kin's lives fall to that man’s wrath. He may have thought he’d destroyed the throne that day, but if she was right, then his days would soon be numbered.

“Am bri danae,

Am bri i fodb fras feochtu,

Am dé delbas do chind codnu,”

She could wait an eternity for that day to come, if she must. For the same way he had taken her King Lot and son, he will suffer the same as she had. She will make sure of it. He may have taken a son from her that day but they will even out the odds. The throne will no longer be reigned by the boy of a man who could not give what he equally took, and she would be ready for the day her son made sure of that.

She looked behind her, seeing the ring of toadstools growing just behind her. Morgause smiled, her singing ceasing to a mere hum as she carefully picked her baby out of the cradle and moved over towards the ring. She lay him into it, feeling the familiar sensation of the ring’s magic lace around her fingers as she pulled away. The boy’s hands stopped their twitching, the only movement remaining being the gentle rising and falling of the baby’s stomach as he breathed. Her singing ended, as she looked back at the now empty cot.

She will wait for an eternity if she must. A mortal turned immortal wouldn’t remain so forever. The cruel king might have taken her throne, but she will get it back. He might have killed her son, but she’ll take him in return.

An eye for an eye; a son for a son.

She will take back what should have been rightfully hers, no matter the cost.

I am a Word of Skill,

I am the Point of a Weapon (that pours forth

combat),

I am God who fashions Fire for a Head.