Chapter Text
Large shadows stretched across the landscape of Melosia Realms. The once ever-clear sky, darkened by a vast array of menacing airships, glowing a sickly magenta.
Deep within the forest below, the hidden orchard known as the Rosarium, usually a place of romance and celebration, was being repurposed as a hiding place for some of the realm’s residences. Coaches from all over Melosia were huddled within the atrium, some sat in conversation with one another, while others passed around rations and supplies.
One such busybody was well-acquainted to the Rosarium, who encouraged coaches to shelter here in the first place. She was listening patiently to two coaches recounting their sights on the approaching armada, her velvet-gloved arms crossed in a stance of importance.
The Bride didn’t have a lot of experience in authority; she’d seldom conversed with any coach in the past few months, let alone give orders. But when Night Swan’s airships started roosting in Melosia’s sky, she knew trouble was on the way, and had to put her personal troubles aside for now.
Even now as the scouts recounted the status of other Melosian shelters, her eyes drifted briefly to a broken painting frame on the floor behind them, hoping no one had taken much notice of the Rosarium’s less-than-pristine condition; a result of her own actions.
“-still haven’t heard back from the genies, but we do know some of their coaches have taken refuge with Queen Nymph in the woods. We also finally got word from the Red Moon Shrines of a few coaches hiding out there.”
The Bride steered herself back to the conversation. “Good. The more of us are together, the better.”
“Um, your grace.” Another coach approached to the side. Many coaches used phrases of royalty to refer to The Bride, as she was considered a symbol of love and romance amongst Melosians.
“Relay your findings to the others” She dismissed the scouts with a nod, then turned to the newcomer. “How may I help you?”
“Well…apologies for bothering you, your grace, but…” this coach seemed incredibly nervous to talk to her. She tended to have that effect on people.
“Go on” She tried to reassure them while still keeping her authority, “Is there something wrong with the other coaches?”
“N-no my liege, it’s…” their pause started to put The Bride on edge. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Who? A new coach looking for shelter?”
“No. I mean potentially but…he just wanted to send a message…”
She studied the coach’s eyes closely, they didn’t seem concerned so much as they seemed…anxious.
Then their words hit her. He .
Her heart sank, surely not…
The coach looked back down and fiddled with their pockets, producing a bright red envelope.
She half snatched it, her brows furrowing as she studied it for a brief moment, before noticing the stamp of Winterhaven in the top corner.
A letter? How in the danceverses did he manage to get a letter over here while the realm was on lockdown? Plus, the nearest portal was miles away, and most of the way there was a thick maze-like forest. That’s part of the reason they took up shelter here, because very few coaches knew how to navigate the forest, let alone find their way to the…Rosarium…
The Bride’s face went stone cold, “Where is he?”
The cowardly coach looked up “Pardon, your grace?”
Without waiting for a response, she stormed off in the direction that they came from, down a long echoey hallway.
Her veil billowed in a self-contained wind, as her heels stomped louder with every furious step.
Her mind was racing in anger, partially still hoping he wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to come here at this of all times.
But as she turned to face the next turn off of the hallway, she saw another coach jump up from a chair, startled by her presence.
There he was, in all his blood-boiling glory.
The Bride and Rasputin paused for a moment, their gazes locked.
Her fury paused briefly as she took in his appearance. She could recognise that stupid beard a mile away, even in its current unkempt state.
His tall pompous hat was missing, showing even more unkempt hair on his head. His coat was undone; wait, it wasn’t even his coat! It was a teal leather jacket over a deep-neck shirt. His purple trousers were ripped, and he wore black leather boots with chains.
The Bride couldn’t even begin to comprehend his new choice in clothes. But then again, she failed to notice how much it resembled her own fashion breakdown.
He held his hands up half-heartedly below his chest, still bracing for whatever she was about to unleash on him.
She was still glaring daggers at him, expecting him to say something stupid that she could lash out at. But he too kept staring at her, his eyes darting around her.
They hadn’t seen each other since before…well…the last time they were both at the Rosarium.
She finally took a deep inhale, stowing herself as to not alarm the rest of the Rosarium’s occupants.
“For the sake of the Gods, you better have a good reason for being here right now.”
Rasputin looked away from her, seemingly stuck for words.
“Well…It’s good to see you too.” He half mumbled, putting his hands in his pockets.
The silence resumed for a short while. What an absolute imbecile The Bride thought to herself.
Rasputin finally looked back up at her. “I see you got my letter.”
The Bride completely forgot she was still holding it. “I did. But seeing as though you came all this way to deliver it, I have a feeling you can tell me what it says without opening it. Or was endangering the safety of my people only enough for a Winterhaven postcard?”
“I wasn’t followed.” He dejected, “I made plenty sure of it.”
“Oh of course not. Rasputin, the great prince of the Winterhaven wastelands is so much more cunning than Night Swan’s army. I bet you took on a whole airship on the way over.”
She waved her hands around sarcastically. He didn’t respond.
“You have no idea what danger you’ve caused us by coming here. Do you know what kind of a threat Melosia Realms is under right now? If they make ground here, we need to be ready to defend or evacuate, and by strolling on through to the Rosarium, you’ve risked the chances of either option for everyone here. If the reason you’re here is to finally make up for what you did, then you should’ve kept waiting. So whatever it is, it better be worth it for your sake.”
“That’s exactly why I’m here.” He replied, finally gaining the courage to step forward. “Look, we don’t know how long they’re just going to hover around waiting for the right moment. All I know is that they haven’t done it yet, and if we want to evacuate, then there’s still a sliver of time left for you and your coaches.”
“Ok, and where exactly are we evacuating to?” The Bride scoffed. “We’ve got just under 50 of us, most of which would much rather the ‘stay and defend’ option first. Are we just leaving Melosia without a plan? Or do your unnamed friends have a place in mind?”
She spat out the phrase ‘unnamed friends.’ It caught him off guard, like he wasn’t expecting to be called out on it again.
“This has nothing to do with them” he replied cooly. “You know perfectly well that my castle in Winterhaven has plenty-”
“Oh your castle? ” She chuckled fakely. “Yeah sure, let’s chuck a bunch of Melosians in an unfamiliar castle in the middle of a frozen wasteland while their homeland is being taken over. Sounds peachy, Raz!”
“Hang on, I thought you said you wanted a place to evacuate?”
“Only as a last resort, we’re not giving up Melosia without some kind of a fight. Besides, Liza has already arranged a space for us in Dancity.”
“Oh and Dancity is supposed to be safer?”
“Night Swan hasn’t gone anywhere near Dancity.”
“Not yet anyway. You know as well as I do that Dancity is a massive target. If she manages to capture Melosia, then where do you think she’s going to set her sights next?”
“We won’t let that happen. That’s why we’re going to stay here and defend it. Dancity is just a precaution.”
“Like it or not, neither of us have ever faced her soldiers before, and as I’m sure Liza has told you, they’re growing more powerful by the day. If you can just hide in Winterhaven until everything blows over-”
“ Me? What do you mean me? ”
The Bride studied his face for a second. Then she scoffed loudly.
“You don’t actually care about saving my people, do you?”
“That’s not true” he bit back, but she continued.
“You just want an excuse to hold me captive in your castle while my realm is being destroyed long enough for Stockholm syndrome to set in!” She yelled, loud enough to echo down the halls.
“I just want you to be safe!” Rasputin raised his voice to her level.
“Since when did you care about my safety?!”
“Because I still care about you, Bridie!”
“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT!”
They both paused, her scream rattling the paintings on the wall.
The Bride panted to catch her breath. She could feel tears well up in her eyes, as hard as she tried to hold them back.
Rasputin was also breathing hard. He shrunk back from her, not meeting her gaze, but spoke up quietly.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I know I’m the last person you want to see right now. But I’m telling you, Winterhaven is going to be the safest place to hide in the long run.”
She rolled her eyes. He continued
“You can claim any part of the castle you want. You can take as many Melosians as you want to take refuge. You can do whatever you want there and I won’t go anywhere near you. I can stay in the dungeon for all I care. I’ll be invisible to you and your people if that is what it takes. I won’t exist to you if that is what you want…But despite what you may think…”
He chuckled slightly.
“...You still exist to me.”
His voice strained as though he was holding back a sob.
“I know I screwed up in the biggest way possible, and there’s no coming back from that. But if I lose you to Night Swan’s army…I don’t know what I would do.”
He approached her; she was too busy holding back her own tears to avoid him.
“Please, Bridie.”
That name made her heart sink deeper. She’d only ever allowed him and her closest friends to call her that.
She kept her head down, as every emotion from the past few months started to bubble back up to the surface. She tugged on her veil, almost contemplating the idea. Staying in that luxurious cathedral in Winterhaven, warm and toasty in an eternal blizzard, permanent hot cocoa weather, a lavish ballroom to dance all night in.
But with every good memory that resurfaced, all the pain and anguish of his betrayal came back with it. There was no entertaining this idea.
After a moment to compose herself, she looked back at him, regaining her professionalism.
“I appreciate your offer, Raz. But we already have our plans in place. And until it’s time, I’m not leaving my people or my realm.”
His expression dropped.
“Then what if I stayed here? You’ll need all the help you can get once the soldiers make ground-”
“No!” She replied sternly. “We have all the coach-power we need here.”
He looked defeated. But to his surprise, she reached out to grab his hands.
“And as much as it pains me to say it…” She chuckled, knowing she would regret saying this “...I still care about you too.”
She met his gaze again. A small smile grew across his face.
Gods I could slap this jerk so bad.
“You said it yourself that Winterhaven is the safest place in all the Danceverses. You’ll be escorted back to the portal you came from for your protection.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
The Bride turned to look behind her. That coach from before was still standing nervously back down the hall. She waved to signal them to come over, and they obliged.
“Our guest will be returning home. For his safety, he will be joined by an escort.”
“Certainly, your grace.” The coach bowed, “who shall be the escort?”
Rasputin still held his head down, respectfully but still sadly.
The Bride hesitated, thinking over how best to return him safely. He made it all this way, but it would be foolish to let him go back without supervision.
But once again, very few coaches even knew how to find the Rosarium, let alone find their way out of the forest to the portal.
She bit her lip, hoping she wasn't about to make a mistake.
“I will.”
This remark took both the coach and Rasputin by surprise.
“I know the way there best. We will leave immediately, and I should be back before sundown.”
“Understood!” The coach nodded, before briskly walking away to relay this information to the other coaches.
Rasputin still looked at The Bride bewildered, having already accepted defeat.
She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “This isn’t an invitation to butter me up with small talk. We get as fast and efficiently as we can, got it?”
“Consider my lips sealed, your grace.” He bowed with full emphasis. His smile was barely hidden beneath his bushy beard.
Gods help me.