#StoriesComeAlive

[starryserenade]

Mickey and Minnie: Firebird

Description: A short mice drabble based on a concept @thebigpalooka and I had discussed. She was largely responsible for the second set of dialogue after their meeting...and it broke my heart in the best way, so of course I had to use it here.

Setting is a Firebird sort of situation, inspired by both the ballet and the Fantasia segment, and whatever else we wanted to throw in. Minnie is the Firebird--the protector of the forest--and Mickey is a heroic prince who saved her once upon a time. This bit here occurs near the end of the story we'd set up <3

AO3

~~~~

He saw her in every precious gleam of nature. In the fiery sunsets of summer, the colors of autumn, the chill of winter, the rosebuds of spring. Her touch, her breath of beauty and passion lay upon it all. A kiss, gentle and sweet. Sometimes, he liked to imagine it was for him–when the wind would tousle his fur and leave him laughing, clinging to his cloak, or a star would streak across the sky and leave a trail so bright he was sure it was her weaving pathways he might one day be able to follow. 

It didn’t dull the ache, though, when such signs departed from view and he was left to return to his chambers alone. He left the window open each night, so that dreams of her might be carried along with the breeze. And he did dream of her, almost every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes those dreams were warm and loving, and she’d be there before him again, as radiant as ever, smiling and holding out her arms so he might sweep her away. Other nights he’d watch her as she left him, as he had all that time ago–when the color had returned to her body and the light to her eyes, blossoming as though she herself had been a flower all along. Mickey had carried her then, as she’d asked him to, and he had never been able to forget the breath she’d taken after those first few steps, when she’d seen the place where her tears had fallen. Where life was beginning to return to the scorched earth. 

Some days he regretted not having said a word. But he’d seen her whole spirit return to her then, and when she’d lifted her hands to the sky she had been filled with such vigor and strength, he knew he could never have held her back. Not even to say goodbye. 

He turned his hand over, recalling the feeling as she’d leapt from his fingertips with a step lighter than any bird could have managed. She had seemed an angel then, and that was his last memory of her. Of a girl like a faerie, rising into the clouds, showering all the earth with life and color. 

There had been a part of him…well, far more than a part of him...that had hoped she might have returned. That they might have… Ah, it was pointless to dream of those things. She was an ethereal being. She was the essence of hope and nature and rebirth itself, a creature of magic with a wild and fiery spirit that was never meant to be tamed. 

And…Mickey loved her. He always would, and he knew he’d never be able to claim otherwise, not now. Not having seen her smile, or felt her touch, or seen the kindness and fear in her eyes. Though he hoped the fear was gone now, as it had been when she left him. That was all he could ever wish for, that wherever she was, she was free, and she was happy. 

But he never did stop looking, with those cheerful eyes of his that seemed always touched with sadness. He was looking now, as he brought that hand to his lips and drew in a shaky breath, leaning out over the balcony. His crown and robes had long since been abandoned, tossed haphazardly on the bed with the setting of the sun. He’d put them away later, but for now he wanted to watch. It was a special night, after all, with the light of the full moon already clipped by shadow. Just like it had been on the night he’d first seen her, so very long ago.

He stretched out his arms, letting out a little squeak, and blinked sleepily, with no intention of retiring anytime soon. The night was cool, and stars twinkled brightly, and the forest felt like it was calling to him again, stretching out past the fields that flanked the castle. Mickey grinned. 

He left a note for Donald, just in case, though he doubted his friend would wonder where he’d gone. If you were close to Mickey, you knew he loved the forest. Knew that if he wasn’t here when you called, he was out among the rustling leaves and the river, traipsing through underbrush looking for something he never seemed able to find. But it brought him joy, and he’d always return with a bit more life in his eyes, so no one said a thing…though his closest friends could always see the longing in his gaze. It never did stop growing. 

His horse whinnied as he urged it onward, that wild feeling settling in his chest as those hooves trotted over the drawbridge, then burst into a gallop the moment they touched the grass.  He’d chosen a plain brown cloak, and it fluttered behind him now, catching the wind in dramatic fashion. Mickey hollered, cherishing these moments of freedom. They came so rarely now, with all there was to do as king. But this…it was like things used to be. Almost.

The forest grew nearer, dusted with moonlight that graced the autumn leaves. He could almost hear them now, as the wind picked up and swept through the branches, and he watched the trees with growing anticipation. His heart swelled. So many memories were held within their grasp, under their canopy. Even the border of the forest, where the fields met with a wilder expanse, held an essence of–

He blinked, as a flurry of leaves were tossed into the air and fluttered about, just outside the forest. They glittered and for a moment, just a moment, he could have sworn the moonlight that passed through them had settled on a familiar form.  

The world froze, and Mickey held his breath, his eyes growing wide. He hardly dared to believe it, and yet…

Hope is terribly convincing. 

When they settled on the ground, the form was gone. But Mickey didn’t care. It was exactly how it had happened before, exactly how he’d seen her that very first time. A very wild look came into his eyes and he cried out, urging his steed to go even faster than it was before. Years of pent up loneliness and heartache fueled him now, filled him with a desperation beyond compare. 

The moment his steed reared up as they reached the trees, Mickey leapt off and hit the ground running, stumbling over himself and gathering his footing just in time to keep pace. He could see a light blazing ahead, gleaming, darting from place to place and growing smaller with every moment that passed. He raced after it with all he had. Branches and thorns tore at his clothing, ripped through his tunic and bloodied his skin, but he hardly felt it.  He could only think of her, of any faint possibility that he might see her one last time, might even get to hold her in his arms.

The more he ran, the more his lungs burned and his vision blurred through the tears that lingered in his eyes. He needed her. He needed her. He needed her.  

He burst into a clearing flooded with the last threads of moonlight, and all at once, that fiery light vanished. Mickey stopped, gasping for air, his eyes darting wildly across every corner, to every branch and shadow.  His chest was heaving, his whole outfit tattered, and his fur matted with dirt and blood. Those breaths faltered then, hitched in his throat, left him trembling. 

He’d been so certain. So sure…so…

Foolish.

His legs gave out from under him, as he glanced at his surroundings. It was his memories that had led him here, he realized with a sharp jab of pain in his chest. The ground still held a faint layer of ash and soot, and the trees nearby were blackened by some past flame–a fire he remembered all too well. 

Right at the center of it all stood the reminder of what had happened here. A beautiful tree in everlasting bloom stood swaying in the gentle breeze of night. Its petals seemed to radiate with a glow of their own as the moonlight graced their surface. It was lovely. Enchanting. 

Mickey dug his fingers into the dirt at the sight of it all.

Up until now, he’d thought himself perfectly fine. Or something like it. Thought he’d been strong enough to move on without her here, or at least able to manage. And maybe, deep inside, he was. But in this moment, sitting face to face with evidence of their farewell, he felt for certain he’d been wrong. That loneliness and longing and heartache came crashing in all at once and though he didn’t cry–didn’t have the strength to–he drew in a shaky breath and buried his face in his hands.

“I miss you so much…” 

He sat like that for a while, shuddering with emotion, unable and unwilling to move, or even lift his head. The moonlight grew fainter, shadowed, and tinged with a fiery red that he didn’t see. But the whole forest thrummed in its wake, those autumn colors sparking to life like tongues of flame. And the tree before him–-those milky-white petals–-began to stir with the wind. 

It began gently, like a whisper, then began to grow into something greater. Soon, the blossoms were swept up in the whirlwind, now dyed with the same crimson that had flooded the rest of the forest–only brighter. As the wind rose and the sound grew and those petals released a blazing burst of light, Mickey finally lifted his eyes.

Before them, untouched by the howling wind, fluttered a single scarlet feather. Mickey’s lips parted breathlessly, and he stretched out his hand.

In the moment it graced his skin, the cyclone of petals blazed so bright that Mickey cried out and had to lift his hand to shield his eyes. But through the gaps in his fingers, he watched as he always had, though now there was something else in his stare. Tentative, cautious hope, and an ever-growing sense of disbelief.

The petals were no longer petals, but real tongues of fire. Those snaking flames came together like wings, formed the shape of a grand bird in their midst. It stretched above the mass of fire, arching over the tree with great, roaring feathers as it lifted its neck, craned its beak towards the sky. It beat its wings once, then lowered its gaze towards Mickey.

Their eyes met, and in the next second, the flames gathered again, spiraled upwards until the bird was gone. Mickey reached out, utterly terrified the flames would vanish entirely, and he’d be left alone all over again.

But as they shrank, they dimmed, and took shape, and ribboned around themselves. And when they had settled, they released a final flare of bright light.

Mickey drew in a breath. 

She was there, in a shower of sparks and lingering embers. Her body was wrapped in those ribbons of fire, only now pieces of them returned to their flowery state, formed a glittering bodice, even as the rest of the flames wound about her hips and fell to the ground, trailing behind her in beautiful ribbons of golden light. Her arms were arched over her head, as the Firebird’s wings had been only moments ago, and a curtain of sparks fell down from them like magic. As the wind died down, she swayed lightly, and brought her hands down, drawing in a shuddering breath as her eyes fluttered open. 

They landed on Mickey, and filled with tears.

Her lips formed his name, though no sound emerged. Before the last lingering petals had even fallen to the earth, Mickey had leapt up and stretched out his arms and she was there, flinging herself into them, wrapping her arms around him as he gathered her up and buried his face in her neck, nestling into her hair with shallow, shuddering breaths. She smelled like autumn–like every lovely part about it that had ever reminded him of her. Like crisp leaves and apples, all tinged with the lingering scent of fire–warm and full of comfort.

He squeezed her tighter, and she whimpered, nuzzling into him. Mickey was overcome. He dropped again to the ground, brought her in closer, and rocked her back and forth in his arms as she clung to him, and he to her, terrified that if he let his grip on her falter for even a moment, she would vanish again and be lost to him forever. 

“Oh, Mickey…” she gasped through tears at last, her face still buried in his chest. “I waited for you. I never stopped waiting. I missed you so, so much. And I know you couldn’t see me, but I just kept trying to tell you, trying to tell you how sorry I was that I had to leave and I–”

“Shh,” he hushed her then, and nuzzled against her cheek. “Ya came back…” he murmured, his voice breaking. “Ya came back to me…”

Minnie was silent for a moment, just drew in a shaky breath and clung to him, utterly helpless. Mickey drew away for only a moment, catching the look in her eyes. Then a faint gleam of fire sparked in his own, and he leaned down into her, slowly, gently, caressing her collar with his fingers before leaving a kiss where his hand had been. She shuddered, and he traveled up her neck, endlessly soft as his lips pressed against her skin. When they reached her mouth, he hovered there, and opened his eyes to look at her. There was love in that stare, desperate and pleading. It was Minnie who satisfied his unspoken request, leaned in and met his parted lips with her own. 

She flared, glowed, fire again swirling about her. Only this time, it leapt to Mickey too, though he felt nothing but the warmth of her mouth, and her heart beating against him. He hardly noticed how he himself glowed alongside her now, was caught up in the deep, pulsing magic that radiated from them both as they sat locked together, wholly unwilling to let go. 

When they parted, breathless and flushed, they leaned their heads against each other, nuzzled their noses as close as they could. Mickey was trembling even more than Minnie, and for once, she thought she saw tears falling from his eyes.

“How…” he breathed, and swallowed, as if he could hardly bring himself to ask. “How long can y’stay this time?”

Mickey couldn’t look at her, his heart pounding against his ribs as he waited for her answer. Would it be weeks, days…minutes? This gift was already more than he could have ever hoped for, ever asked of her. She’d come back to say goodbye…but…oh, he would cling to her as long as he could.

He felt her flinch and thought that confirmed his worst suspicions. She’d be gone soon, swept up in the wind to fulfill her role. To return to her life of freedom. It was a wonderful thing, he told himself, and yet he braced himself, trying not to think about what it would be like to journey back to the castle without her in his arms.

“Mickey…” she murmured, and seemed to shiver. “How..how long would you want me to stay…if…if you could choose?”

He tried not to laugh, but he did. It was a sad sound, choked and garbled with tears.  The answer was obvious, surely, though he almost felt guilty saying it out loud. If she had but minutes to give, wouldn’t it be cruel to suggest he wanted anything more? Wouldn’t it be selfish?

But she looked up at him with those beautiful brown eyes–as deep and dark as the tallest redwood tree– and he knew he couldn’t lie to her. 

“Awe, Minnie,” he whimpered, and ran his hands through her hair, before burying his face in it once again, knowing he was wetting it with his tears. “I’d stay with ya forever if I could…I wish more than anythin’ you could stay…”

Minnie let out a tiny gasp, and then sniffed. Then she stroked the fur on his neck, as tenderly as she could manage. “Then…I will,” she breathed, a little break making its way into her voice too now. “I’ll stay with you, Mickey. I’ll stay with you, now and…and forever!”

It took Mickey a moment to hear her, having been so sure he was preparing to say goodbye. But when her words finally registered, he froze, and then drew in a deep, gasping breath, and pulled back to look at her. Tears were streaming down her face, but Mickey’s ceased suddenly, a final droplet lingering in the corner of his eye as his whole face filled with disbelief.

“Ya…ya will…I mean, forever?? Min, are you…can you…is that…”

She was nodding, just nodding over and over again, and taking in his growing happiness with every moment. His lips began to curl, a light filled his eyes, and before she knew it, he had pounced on her, rolling her over on top of him and beaming up at her with sheer love and relief. Minnie laughed endlessly, her giggles scattered with tears, but they were happy now. So, so happy, like nothing she’d ever felt in her whole life. 

“Aw, Minnie,” he breathed, still smiling, and lifted his fingers to her cheek, wiping away some of those tears with the back of his hand, then pressing his palm against her skin. He’d been about to say…something. But before he could finish, Minnie leaned in and had stifled his words once again, taking in the taste of his lips with every trembling moment.

When she pulled away, his eyes were clouded with bliss, but he licked his lips and managed to finish anyway, knowing even then that he had only seconds to speak. But it wasn’t for a farewell…it was for love, and that was all that mattered now. 

That’s all he needed to say. 

“Minnie…” She leaned in, lips hovering just a breath above his mouth, ready to meet him again the moment he’d finished.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The moon shone down on them both and flowers sprouted where they lay, unfolded their blossoms across the whole of the forest. Minnie wondered if Mickey knew that this was his doing, that those simple words sparked such life in her soul. Prompted such gentle, blissful magic.

She laughed softly, and smiled. If he didn’t know, she would show him now. Would imprint her gratitude on every part of his being. And if he still needed convincing, then she’d do it all over again.

They had forever after all.

#mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie #fanfiction #my writing #StoriesComeAlive #friend if you’re reading this I stayed up too late writing fanfics I’m sorry

[bhavan1]

The roads are teaming with inspiration for Harry Potter... It's a world come alive! Just look at that clock. #Edinburgh #royalmile #royalmileedinburgh #travel #heritage #bookworm #harrypotter #jkrowling #storiescomealive #scotland #unitedkingdom #uk #holidays (at Royal Mile)

#scotland #royalmile #uk #storiescomealive #jkrowling #edinburgh #unitedkingdom #holidays #heritage #travel #royalmileedinburgh #bookworm #harrypotter

[304publishing]

Everyone needs a special area for writing. #creativemode #writingarea #coffeeshop #homeoffice #outsidepatio #storiescomealive #authorlife #authorsofinstagram #booksarebusiness #readers #blogging #booklover

#authorlife #homeoffice #coffeeshop #creativemode #booklover #readers #blogging #writingarea #booksarebusiness #storiescomealive #authorsofinstagram #outsidepatio

[nerdgirlofficial]

#AmReading #TheUntamed by #SebastianAJones @strangercomics while Erys is getting a #NebulizingTreatment. Tomorrow's appointments include #JohnsHopkins and #KennedyKriegar. #AwesomeRead look for my #review on the #AwesomeBlog . . . . . #Comic #ComicBook #comics #GraphicNovel #StoriesComeAlive #Books #bookstagram #comiccon

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[putonyourbathingsuits]

Happy birthday :)))

Thank you very much :)

#storiescomealive

[paperbackpocket]

storiescomealive replied to your post: storiescomealive asked:Happy birt...

n’aw aren’t you adorable ! Well your welcome and i’m gald you mentioned it :)

I'm lucky to have followers like you. Thank you (:

#storiescomealive

[retiredtothebriars]

storiescomealive replied to your post: im going to the airport in like 4 hour...

You’ll be okay ! Have fun in Munich :)

thank you!! <3

#storiescomealive #but rly thank you

[starryserenade]

New sloppy little drabble up today. Not very refined, but I was stressed and needed a quick outlet haha

#StoriesComeAlive #fanfiction #my writing #mickey x minnie

[starryserenade]

New little drabble up today. This one's set in my own little Fantasmic universe. <3

#StoriesComeAlive #fanfiction #mickey x minnie #my writing

[starryserenade]

New Myth and Magic out today...took me long enough, huh?

#StoriesComeAlive #Myth and Magic #Myth & Magic #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie #my writing #fanfiction

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 22: Magica

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: An ancient enemy reawakens

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~~

His blood was still on her hands, knotting her fur with strains of scarlet and silver. She couldn’t move. Every now and then, a choked cry would make its way past her lips, but otherwise she was silent. Everything was silent. His voice was gone, and she’d never hear it again. She was desperate to preserve the memory of it, to seal his last words deep in her heart and mind for fear she might one day forget.

The clouds had parted that night, paving the way for the starlight that had caught him up in its grasp. This open sky lingered just past dawn, just long enough for the sunlight to come through and dye the snowscape a brilliant shade of pink. It fell upon Minnie and she blinked when she felt its warmth cross her face. Her heart had grown so cold, felt so numb, but she felt then the faintest shred of awakening, like the light had managed to melt through the icy wall. 

She released a breath, and clutched at her heart. Oh…it hurt so much. The inclination to reach out for his hand, to dive into his arms for comfort…it was all still there. But he was gone, and she couldn’t. She was alone. She’d been trying to stand, but as those thoughts returned, another short wave of sobbing consumed her.

“I can’t…” she whimpered at last, her words taken up in the wind. 

How could she be expected to carry on now, when her whole world had been returned and ripped away again, for good this time? Had it all been for nothing? Their first encounter and his rescue, all those stories and all those nights spent together? Their forgetting…and their finding each other all over again…falling all over again…was it all leading to this? Could fate really be so cruel?

The clouds began to return, and the air took a frigid turn, even colder than it had been before. Minnie thought she knew why now, though it was far too late for it to mean anything. As the light slipped away, she felt like the last lingering hints of Mickey’s presence did as well. The world’s warmth had been snuffed out. 

A thought crossed her mind then. She could stay, she could…could let the cold consume her. And maybe then she could join him. But the thought had hardly formed, lingering on a trembling tear, before something flared in her grasp. She gasped lightly and opened her hand. In her palm rested the two objects Mickey had left with her, had pressed into her hands in his last moments. The sight of the charm tore her heart in pieces all over again, but it wasn’t what had flared.

Beside it was a small gem that she’d never noticed before. Mickey had held it out to her, but it had been so overshadowed in that moment that she’d not truly seen it. Now, it flickered with a gentle warmth, something like firelight, and a magic that was…well, familiar. Minnie swallowed, cupped her other hand lightly around its surface. She couldn’t explain it, could hardly describe the feeling, except that…it felt like him. Somehow. And she realized now that even among the frigid cold that had consumed all the world around her, not a single web of frost had formed on her fur. 

“Oh, Mickey…” she breathed, bringing the object to her lips. Whatever it was, it held his magic, she was sure of it.  Even now, he was keeping her safe. 

Her own magic, now complete and fully formed, took that warmth and drew from within her the memories of its presence. Of him, and the soft brush of his hand against hers, of his wings folded about her, and his eyes, flooded with a light as free and open as the sky. Of the stories they’d once shared. She smiled softly, feeling the wind brush through her fur, frigid and yet tinged with a whisper of spring. Of hope. 

The cold pressed in on every side, could still overtake her if she let it. But her grief had dissolved into something different, something powerful. She let out a quiet breath and lifted her eyes. Clouds had completely obscured the sun, and lightning flashed wildly in their depths. Only now, she knew it wasn’t quite lightning at all. The streams of light, branching out from the furthest reaches of the air stretched down like branches–like roots, magic flickering across the expanse. She’d come from there, had dove after him, cold and gravity be damned. The egg was still there. Her friends were still there. That…that monster…she was there, too.

There were people left to protect–people Mickey had loved dearly, and she’d loved alongside him. They deserved to remember, and to know how much he gave. They deserved to live , as he should have. He’d given her a second chance to help them.

And she would. 

She rose to her feet. Her own magic had begun to boil, a deep current rushing to her fingertips. A greater understanding of her power had overtaken her, and the return of her memories had bridged the gap and returned the piece she was missing. She could feel it within her now, bubbling up inside, growing stronger with each moment. Swiftly, she brought her free hand above the relic and the fiery stone, and bound them together with a form of enchantment, then strung the piece safely around her hip. It pulsed warmly as she straightened, lifting her head. 

The lake lay before her, frozen and blanketed in thick snow. Even the place where she and Mickey had broken through had already hardened, but the moment Minnie took a step on the ice, the whole surface shuddered. Another step and it groaned, and a deep line began to form. One more, and the entire lake appeared to splinter, and with a sound like thunder, the ice gave way to the water beneath, which rose up between the cracks like a thousand geysers and flooded the lake all over again. Minnie did not falter, feet passing seamlessly over the waves. Her body had taken on that transparent hue again, but it was a deep and furious shade of blue. All it took was an upward sweep of her palm and the water gathered together, bent and twisted and took shape, and rose up into the sky like a crystalline path of constant eb and flow. With two clicks of her tongue, Saoirse had emerged, mane and tail spraying behind her, nostrils flared as she approached Minnie.

Minnie set a hand to the kelpie’s muzzle, briefly touching her head to the creature, before looking back up at the sky. 

~~

The prison chamber was growing louder by the minute, the pixies’ wings creating something like the sound of a hive as they hovered in their cages, bell-like voices more frantic than ever. Surrounding them all, hundreds of eyes glittered in their glow, and Donald and Daisy were the focus of each and every one. 

“I think I know what happened to your friends, Donald!”  Daisy shouted, breathless and terrified, as she yanked him towards their singular point of escape. The Sidhe hissed, and burst into motion towards the two of them.

Donald let out a startled “WAK!” as Daisy tugged on his arm, scrambling to catch up to her pace, but when they’d jumped through the doorway and slammed the dungeon doors behind them, painfully aware of the creatures scratching to get through on the other side, he turned to her with an expression Daisy wasn’t very used to seeing.  

Under most circumstances, many would consider Donald something of a coward. It didn’t take much to frighten him, or to send him squawking and running the other way the second something seemed a little too testy for his tastes. The first time he’d encountered a rabbit in the mortal realm, he’d darted behind Daisy and sat shivering there because he was certain it was some kind of demon creature, with those beady eyes and twitching nose and big, long ears – probably to listen in on people’s nightmares, he’d said. 

But that was the thing Daisy herself had come to know about him. There were a lot of little things that frightened her dear, temperamental faerie. But when it came to the things that mattered–those rare, big moments that would have sent anyone else flying for the hills…well, sometimes he’d act in a way that was surprising. 

He’d been the reason when, after months of being told by everyone she knew that Minnie’s very existence was nothing more than some kind of mad nightmare, and being moments away from believing it herself, she’d finally had the assurance that it had all been very real.

Donald had remembered her, that flustered little guard from the faerie realm had remembered her. And he had cared enough to escape, to find her, when everything had gone wrong. He had admitted more than once his leaving had felt a whole lot like running away. But that, Daisy thought, was a very dumb way of looking at things.

If facing the unknown just to warn her wasn’t brave, she didn’t know what was.

He had that same look in his eyes now, as he’d had when he’d burst through her window and sent her all screaming against a wall. Like he was terrified, and uncertain, and yet undeniably determined all at once.  This was the worst possible time, but it still sent Daisy’s heart pounding against her chest.

“What’s that look for?!” she sputtered, cheeks already reddening. They should be running, but she had the sense he wouldn’t follow if she did.

“We can’t just leave them!!” he squawked, nodding back towards where they’d come. He was shaking all over, but he was angry too. That was something they were often good at together. 

“Well, what can WE do??” Daisy gasped, yelping as the door behind them both jolted. 

Donald got a twinkle in his eye and his glow got a bit brighter, sparked a little bit wildly. Daisy’s eyes widened. “NO.”

He nodded rapidly, a mad grin making its way across his bill. 

“Donald, your magic is crazy .”

“Uh-huh,” he kazooed proudly. And winked as he went to undo the latch. “That’s what I’m countin’ on!

The moment he unlocked the door, releasing a flare of magic as he did, he jumped back towards a side wall and drew Daisy with him. The door flew open, and half of the Sidhe at the front were too slow to stop themselves from catapulting into the wall beyond, crumpling to the floor in a twitching heap of feathers. The other half were met with a similar fate, as the door that had swung open for them hit the wall then bounced back into their faces, rendering them unconscious as they, too, fell to the floor. 

Daisy watched with wide eyes as Donald bounded between the piles of fallen fae, still grinning wildly, and now horribly proud of himself.

“How did you know that would happen?” she breathed, being a bit more cautious with her step. 

“I didn’t! S’just bad luck!” He announced triumphantly and chuckled that wheezy, mischievous little chuckle of his. Then promptly tripped over a wing. 

“Uhhh-huhh,” Daisy snickered, as she helped him to his feet. “Well, I suppose you do have more than enough of that to go around.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but Daisy left a light peck on his cheek that quickly turned his frustration to dizzy bliss.

The pixies jingled a much happier sort of ring as the two of them entered again, and both ducks beamed up at the tiny fae.  “Oh, dear, how will we ever free them all?” Daisy muttered, looking again at the vast number of cages that surrounded them. She had the lingering feeling that those Sidhe wouldn’t stay put forever. 

“We don’t need to free them all…” he answered, distracted as he used his magic to try to mess with one of the cage’s locks. “I know this one.” The little green pixie waited eagerly inside, hovering off the bottom of the cage. Then the tiny door swung open, knocking Donald hard in the forehead, and she darted out with a twinkle of happiness, taking little notice as he rubbed the sore spot. She looked around briefly, as if searching for something very specific, before her gaze landed on Donald again, upon which she grinned widely, then hovered up to him and landed on his bill. Her eyes squinted as she studied the feathers just above his eyes, and Donald swelled with pride at having rescued this small thing, who he was now certain had only fluttered up to check on his tiny wound.

“Awww, gee, it’s just a–WAK!”

He squawked loudly, and Daisy laughed, as the pixie plucked a feather from his forehead and darted off again without a word of thanks. 

“YOU’RE WELCOME!” he called after her, and the only look she tossed him was one of minor exasperation. Donald grumbled to himself, and rubbed his head. “Darn no-good pixies, why I oughtta…” 

It took only a moment for her to begin darting from cage to cage, using the feather to unlock each one. Pixies flew out in droves, their combined chatter sounding across the chamber like a lovely little song. Daisy beamed as she watched them, these flurries of color flying in arching paths as they embraced and cheered and greeted each other with the tiniest shimmering tears. Donald had been fuming, but blushed when he glanced her way.

“Oh, it’s just wonderful, Donald!” she exclaimed, eyes still locked on the scene. 

“Huh? Oh, heh, yeah? You think so?” He inched a bit closer to her, cheeks glowing a very bright shade of red.

“Yes, I do,” Daisy laughed, and when she turned around she gave him a rather large smooch, and then cradled his cheek in her hands. “You were very brave.”

“I was, huh?” He puffed up his chest, and his wings arched out behind him ever so slightly. 

A chilled gust of wind swept around them then, carried through the tunnel from where they’d come. It froze their elation cold, carried with it an air of something no one could begin to describe. Whatever it was, it sent them all silent. Even the pixies’ wings skipped a beat, before sending them fluttering gently to the floor. Their light flickered, and Donald shuddered then held a hand to his head. 

“Donald!” Daisy called softly, in a rare moment of concern. It wasn’t that she never cared, it’s just that…well, Donald was both accident prone and dramatic. But this seemed to be something else entirely. “What’s the matter?” 

“I…I dunno,” he mumbled at last, after a long gap of silence. Daisy followed his eyes and found him staring at the green pixie, who had fallen to her knees and sat silent with her hands in her lap, wings drooping behind her. A twinkle of a teardrop fell from her eye, and then she buried her face in her hands. The other pixies followed with tears of their own, sobbing in a jingle that itself created a disheartening song. The first one, though–she seemed most heartbroken of them all. “Just keep hearing somethin’ about…someone’s gone… he’s gone. But I dunno who they mean.”

Daisy was quiet, then drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Donald…you don’t think-?!”

He scratched his head, furrowing his brow. There was something gnawing at the corner of his mind, he just couldn’t quite place it. “Don’t think what?”

Daisy didn’t respond, only jabbed him with her elbow and glared his way before whirling back around. “We should find Minnie.”

In her panic, Daisy had forgotten all about the Sidhe waiting on the other side of the door. When she opened it, and came face to face with one such creature rising to its feet, she let out a piercing scream and stumbled back. The dark fae hissed and rose up to strike her, but then came a beam of light so bright that it screeched and covered its eyes, all but blinded. The others behind it were similarly met with a series of painful attacks–of ice and water and thorns, and all manner of natural things–and Daisy lay gasping as the pixies around them buzzed and cast out these flares of magic. Their cheeks all shone a collective shade of fiery red, and as the green pixie came flying up beside them, Daisy could just make out the furious look written across her small features.

“COME ON!” Donald quacked, grabbing her hand and yanking her to her feet, then racing through the hall, dodging the Sidhe who were now far too preoccupied to pay them any mind. 

“Th-they got over that quickly,” she gasped, narrowly avoiding tripping or colliding with a wall or struggling Sidhe on multiple occasions. The sounds of screeching and jingling all mingled together in a nightmarish bout of chaos began to fade as they made their way back to the ground level of the castle. “They seemed so devastated just moments ago! Now they just seem…mad.”

Donald snorted, squinting through the dark of the stairway. “That’s pixies for ya. Can only feel one feelin’ at once. That’s how they got out of the whole mind-sweepin’ mess in the first place–spell mighta worked for a minute or two, but the second even a little thought of some other sort of feelin’ set in, they’d switch right back to the way they were before. Kinda cheatin’ if you ask me but… that’s prob’ly why they were locked up.”

“Oh…must have been something terrible to make them so upset just now…”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Do you think they’ll tell us what happened?”

“Dunno, maybe.”

“Would they really know, just like that, if someone…well, if someone…you know…”

“Not sure.”

“What if it was someone we-?”

“WOULDJA CUT IT OUT?!” Donald exploded suddenly, stopping so fast that Daisy kept going and stumbled forward. Which ended just fine for her, but less so for Donald, who broke her fall and fell on his face, hitting his chin on an upper stair and stuttering angrily as Daisy dusted herself off and steadied her footing. He climbed to his feet, his face almost as red as the pixies’ had been. “I DUNNO ANYTHIN’, OKAY DAISY?! Feels like Iike I should though…Like I’m forgetting something or…or someone…really important…but I … I don’t remember…” His voice, broken as it already was, hitched more than usual and he turned his face away. The anger in his tone gradually fizzled into something like guilt. “I don’t even know what happened, but it feels like I should’ve been there…been there to help him.”

His eyes widened as he finished, like the words had revealed the faintest hint of recollection before he’d even noticed it himself. 

Daisy was good at a lot of things, but keeping from stating the obvious was not one of them. She looked at Donald then, with a good amount of sympathy but a greater amount of fear, and uttered a quiet whisper. 

“Help who, Donald?”

Her question wasn’t answered. 

The pixies had caught up to them by now, came fluttering up with faces that were again settled in a sad sort of look. They’d hardly reached the ducks when a laugh sounded from above them. And behind them. And all around them. Chilling, wicked, ancient, and terrifying.

Like a nightmare they’d all had once upon a time, that had been long forgotten and only now had risen back to the surface, the knowledge of her returned to them. No one spoke, and yet somehow the same name echoed in everyone’s minds.

~~~~

MAGICA! Minnie didn’t know her but she did. She knew her through the stories and the memories that came racing through her head. To whom those recollections belonged, she didn’t know, and she thought it would be useless to determine this now. Her own memories were enough to prove to her how truly wicked this person–if they could even be called that–truly was. She had taken her Mickey from her. Her dear, sweet Mickey. No one with a shred of a soul could have ever wished him gone.

Saoirse’s hooves clipped each raindrop as though the storm was in itself a ladder to the heavens. Open air became fog as they entered the clouds, and light flashed within them every few moments, the great tree’s roots sparking with the remnants of its fading magic. Minnie yelped as her steed just barely dodged a snaking shadow, and she looked back behind and below them to see what it was they’d nearly collided with.

Her vision steadied and she drew in a breath, eyes widening. The roots themselves were growing–that was what had flown past them, wood creaking and groaning as it stretched downwards towards the ground, towards the mortal realm. She didn’t know why, but they seemed to be searching. Desperately reaching for earth. They pierced the shroud in a writhing burst of misty ribbons, and in the gaps they left in the clouds, Minnie heard a song. She knew those voices, she realized. They had saved her once before.  

Saoirse whinnied and Minnie drew back, whispering a quiet word of calming. Her hair had long since unraveled from its braids and now whipped behind her, lashed by wind as she looked about. 

This was the place they’d been before, before she dove after Mickey. Only it was darker now, surrounded by storm clouds that swirled with a strange kind of purple light. The winding roots that surrounded them still flashed too, as they had before. But that brighter light–the pale blue that seemed so much friendlier–was growing faint.  In one of the brighter bursts, Minnie spotted them–two of the three sirens on the island where the Egg still rested. Their voices were strained, but still raised in song, their hands lifted to the sky.

That strange rabbit was still there too, though he now sat restrained by vines undoubtedly summoned by one of the fae. A rush of anger swept through her suddenly at the sight of him, but Minnie swallowed her rage and directed Saoirse towards the place, careful to avoid that faerie’s eyes. He was watching her, she could feel it. Wanted to say something, but that hardly mattered to her. She had no interest in hearing any of it. 

She alighted from the Kelpie as silently as she could, worried she might frighten her friends and break their concentration. But Morgana, Clarice on her shoulder, turned her head to look the moment she set foot on solid ground, a very tired look in her eyes. Her gaze darted to Minnie’s hands, and then back up to Minnie’s face, and a note of bitter sadness made its way into her melody. Then she released a particularly powerful note, and shook her head, drawing in a breath. She kept her hands raised, trembling with exertion as they continued to preserve the spell.

“Minnie…” 

“Not now,” Minnie choked before Morgana had a chance to say anything more. If she allowed so much as a flicker of emotion in, she knew it would consume her. “What’s happening? What can I do?”

Morgana studied her face, carefully considering her words, before blinking and shaking her head, turning her eyes to a storm cloud that had formed above their heads. Dark magic flashed in its depths, and every now and then the mist would part to reveal a shape underneath, something like a cocoon. “A few hours ago, a strange Sidhe came flying through. Made its way to that branch up there and hasn’t come down. We’re certain it’s–”

“Magica,” Minnie whispered faintly.. 

Morgana pursed her lips. “Y…Yes. She’s changing, breaking free from the spell that binds her. We’re trying to slow it down, but the egg…”

They all glanced towards it, and found it pulsing weakly. Coldly. The ember at its center had dimmed, and the watery shell had begun to turn to ice. Minnie swallowed.

“Minnie, listen to me,” Morgana spoke quietly. “We haven’t got much time. You won’t be able to save the egg, not without–” Minnie’s eyes widened, looked as though some wall was about to be broken down. Morgana lowered her gaze. “...Not…not now. But–”

“There has to be something you can do…”

A wind howled through the air, as frigid as the atmosphere that settled after those words, and all eyes turned to face the one who’d spoken. It was the rabbit, his eyes downcast and ears drooping, revealing the words had been said more to himself than to anyone else. He was still bound by those vines, wings pressed tightly against his sides. His bonds tightened then, as Morgana narrowed her eyes. He gasped lightly and looked up at them.

Minnie eyed him closely, feeling that heat rise up again in her chest. She knew so very little about this faerie before her, but she knew enough to realize he’d played a part in all this. Power rippled at her fingertips, boiled within her. There was so much more she could do with it now, and she wondered briefly what it would feel like to release all her anger on someone who really, truly, did deserve it. Didn’t she deserve to make him understand?

What happened then, she wasn’t entirely sure, but she saw him shrink away. In that moment, the fog that had clouded her vision with rage slowly faded, and she let out a soft breath. Maybe it was her power at work, or simply her heart–most likely, it was both–but she saw a look in his eyes that made her feel like she’d been doused with cold water. And she knew at once that in some sort of way, he did understand. Had felt this sort of pain before. 

Her power shifted, settled, and she took a step towards him, staring warily. 

“Minnie?” Morgana asked quietly, and Clarice gasped lightly, bringing her hands to her mouth. Minnie didn’t hear either of them.

“You lost someone too,” she whispered gently, and he looked back up at her with wide eyes. He stayed that way for a moment, then squeezed them shut.

“I made a mistake,” he gasped at last, in a burst that had been held in far too long. “All this time, I thought I could get her back. Magica promised me…but she…she was responsible for all of it, wasn’t she? I believed her and now…” He drew in a sharp breath, and his voice broke. “Mickey didn’t deserve this. You…you didn’t deserve this. I never meant for things to get so bad, I swear…I’m just…I’m..I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…”

She took another step, with an expression no one could read. “Sorry?”

He didn’t respond then, just let his head drop. Waited for her to reach him.  There seemed a pocket of steady magic around her, like the wind was suddenly unable to touch her form. The amulet at her hip pulsed evenly. 

“Sorry won’t bring him back, you know.” 

They were cold words, but not quite frozen. When he lifted his head again, she was there in front of him, but with kinder eyes than anyone had anticipated. Minnie herself wasn’t sure how she managed to shove aside all the hurt and the anger and pain. It still lingered just under the surface, but something kept it tempered. “But…” she continued, in a warmer tone. “Neither will hurting you.”

She set a hand to the vines that restrained him and they loosened, falling away and withering in the wake of the cold. The faeries behind her drew in a breath, but Minnie wasn’t concerned. The rabbit–Oswald’s–eyes were wide with grief and guilt, accompanied only by the shock of her action. He stared at her then, studied her face for a few moments. 

Then he blinked and shook his head. “You’re stronger than me,” he muttered, and Minnie smiled ever so softly. 

“I just made a promise, that’s all.”

Her voice was tight with emotion, but when thunder rumbled around them, she swallowed and held out her hand. “You know Magica better than most,” she stated plainly, though Oswald lowered his eyes in shame. “What’s she planning?”

“She told me it was peace,” he chuckled, ruffling his raven-black feathers. “Said she was tired of the faeries hogging all the magic in the world, never using it to help the mortals. Wanted to take it all and start over. She believed if she had all the magic in the world, she could reshape it. Make things however she wanted. But the dragons…their ‘magic had the power to imprison her. That’s why she wanted both of you gone. She knew you’d been chosen.”

“But you’re a faerie. You believed her?”

His eyes got sad again, soft but broken. “It’s like you said,” he uttered gently. “I lost someone I loved. A mortal. The faeries wouldn’t help…Fand wouldn’t help…maybe couldn’t, I don’t know. The point is, Magica said she could . And I’m ashamed to say it, but I would have done anything. I…I did do anything–everything–she asked. But it was never enough.”

Minnie pursed her lips.  Wondered briefly what she might have done if someone had told her she could bring Mickey back.  Was there such a power out there, truly–?

“She was never going to help me,” Oswald added firmly, a little too abruptly, as if he saw the look in Minnie’s eyes begin to wander. “I see that now. All she wants is power, as much of it as she can get. She’ll turn both worlds into wastelands to get it. And with Mickey gone…she’s won half the battle.”

A chill ran down Minnie’s spine. She knew this already, had known it the moment the light left Mickey’s eyes. But to hear it said out loud, so plainly…it stung. That was the reality of it. As much as she wanted to grieve, his death meant far more than her own pain. 

“S-so…” she managed, drawing in a deep breath to keep from dissolving into tears again. “What else…what else can we do?”

“Well,” Oswald started, a bit more gently this time. “She wanted you both gone. You’re still one of the dragons’ chosen ones. That’s got to count for something.”

“Minnie,” someone interrupted, and they both looked to find Morgana standing above them. She knelt, and looked to Minnie. “If I may… I have something to confess.”

She sighed deeply and smoothed her dress. “I was there,” Morgana breathed. “The first time Magica emerged, back in the days of legend. Someone was taken from me then, and all I wanted was to forget. Magica made that easy… too easy. I was one of the first to join her ranks.”

Minnie let out a quiet breath, watching as the faerie’s eyes took a sadder turn than Minnie had ever seen them before. She took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I never had reason too,” Morgana continued, and though Minnie didn’t quite believe that was true, she didn’t argue. It was rare to see Morgana nervous about much of anything, and it was a rare moment that seemed something deserving of silence. “But now I feel you should know…when the dragons joined the fight, it was Lir who freed the Sidhe from Magica’s control. He had the power to restore their memories, and he restored mine. Minnie,” she spoke firmly, but with a sense of great urgency. “That power rests in you now. I’ve seen you use it before, in the battle back at your castle. The rain you summoned…it made the soldiers remember. “

Everyone got quiet then. It was Oswald who spoke next, in a timid voice

“If she can free the Sidhe…it would cut Magica’s power in half. We might stand a chance.”

Morgana didn’t utter another word, but she nodded firmly. Minnie’s eyes had gotten wide.

She could feel it, the magic they kept assuring her she had. Of course it had rested within her for a while, pieces of it at least. But it was wild now, untamed, ruled by her heart which was anything but calm. It was a miracle she’d made it up here to begin with, and even that was little more than an act of explosive emotion. The prospect of choosing to wield her abilities now, in such an act of concentrated skill, terrified her. She couldn’t think clearly, was already barely keeping from dissolving into a mess of tears. She couldn’t–

“I-”

The air went still, felt as though everything had been silenced, suspended. Everyone drew in a breath collectively, their eyes growing wide, fur and feathers rising in dark premonition. From above them came a deep, garbled sound. Like laughter, only void of joy. 

Minnie’s heart skipped a beat. They were out of time. They were out of time, and she was nowhere near ready. She glanced helplessly at Morgana but for once, the faerie seemed equally terrified. Her eyes darted to the cocoon, then to the egg. The ember had gone out, and it was frozen over. Its magic was gone. 

Above their heads, the cocoon grew darker, drew in the stormclouds surrounding its form. It pulsed like a heartbeat, and with each one a twisted silhouette could be seen writhing inside. The cocoon shuddered, and in the next moment a wing, flickering with tongues of blue flame, pierced its surface. The faeries cried out and shielded their faces. Minnie reached for them instinctively, and a wall of mist appeared  to shield them from the heat. Another wing broke through, with scales like glittering shards of ice. Minnie gasped and fumbled for the amulet, nearly overcome by the frigid burst that followed. A warmth surrounded her the moment she did, kept the cold at bay just enough for her to gather herself and watch as the rest of the cocoon melted and dripped away, revealing the form underneath.

She was beautiful in a terrifying manner, with sharp, jagged features and a slender form. Two horns spiraled upwards from her head, around which midnight strands of hair fell like night. A long dress of what seemed to be dark, black scales flashed madly as it whipped around in the wind, and deep violet brooch gleamed at its neckline. 

No one seemed able to move, until she opened her eyes. In that flash of teal–a color so intense it could have burned and frozen a person all at once–everyone in all the world cried out in pain. Minnie wasn’t sure how she knew this, but as she keeled over with the rest of her companions, clutching at her skull, she thought she could feel them somehow. Thousands of voices, of minds recalling a single name through the depths of time.  

It was Minnie who spoke it first, unsure yet of her intention in doing so–whether it was shock or fear or rage…or some thread of fate that demanded it said out loud. Her voice trembled as she spoke, lifting her head to the witch hovering above their heads in a cloud of chaos.

“ Magica …” 

She had been admiring herself, lifting her hand and turning it every which way, and running her fingers through her hair. But when Minnie spoke, Magica took pause, and smiled. Her eyes gleamed dangerously, and she turned her head just about as slow as a person was able, before her stare landed on Minnie. She cocked her head, and chuckled lightly. 

“You…” she began, in a narrow tone. Minnie drew in a breath and did her best to hold her gaze. Tension crackled like lightning in the air. “You are…terrified , aren’t you, little girl?” 

In a blink, Magica appeared before her, and Minnie yelped, stumbling backwards as the witch drew in close. The other faeries reached for her, but with a single flick of Magica’s wrist, they found themselves silenced and held back by a howling wind. 

Magica leaned in, her eyes scouring every inch of Minnie, who could hardly breathe as she stared back. When she found Minnie’s eyes, her grin widened and she stretched out a hand. Clawed fingers met Minnie’s cheek, traveled down to her chin, and she winced, feeling a shudder of frigid cold rush through her veins–that sense of being frozen from the inside out. It was all she could do to gather the strength to summon her hand in an effort to push those icy claws away. But Magica caught her wrist and Minnie cried out, unable to resist the spread of frost that branched out from her touch. 

“Ah, so simple! ” Magica hissed, eyes flaring as Minnie writhed in her grip, body slowly overtaken by the ice. “Took those fools far too long, but I suppose if you want something done right…” Minnie let out a sharp cry as the cold deepened, reached further into her bones. Her legs buckled and Magica followed her when she fell, laughing wickedly and never once loosening her grip. “Lucky for me, you were even easier to catch than your little boyfriend!”

Minnie’s eyes shot up at that, wounded, and Magica laughed again. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that indelicate? It really was such a valiant effort on his part. You should have seen the look in his eyes. So full of hope, even when I–-well, ha!--I suppose you already know that part. Poor child really thought he saved you.” Magica’s hand tightened around Minnie’s wrist, even as a dark fire began to blaze in Minnie’s own expression. “Really is such a pity his death was wasted so.”

There was a blaze of…of something like flames then, that erupted and burst into the air. Magica screeched and drew back, clutching the hand that had held Minnnie. It was consumed by fire for a moment, before she fanned her fingers and the flames were taken in by her magic. But Minnie was free, and as she lay gasping, that gentle warmth surrounded her again, helped take away the worst of the cold’s bite. 

The faeries rushed to her now. Clarice was quickly muttering some sort of spell, something to heal the place on Minnie’s wrist which was worst wounded by the ice. Morgana took her arm gently over her shoulder and helped her to her feet. Oswald stepped in front of them all, and spread his wings protectively.

Magica had recovered now, but her expression had changed. Gone was the prideful, aloof manner with which she moved. Her eyes blazed, and her teeth were bared in shock and fury, and a touch of disbelief.

“That was-!” she hissed, and her eyes fell to the charm at Minnie’s hip, then darted to the place where Oswald stood. 

“ You IDIOT! ” she screeched, and he flinched but straightened his back and stared her down. She rushed again for Minnie, who gasped lightly, but the three faeries held out their hands and summoned a barrier of their own. Magica slashed at it once, growled, and then lifted her head  and…and laughed. 

It was more chilling than the first time, more crazed. Morgana squeezed Minnie’s arm reassuringly and Clarice whispered a word of reassurance in her ear. 

“We’re right beside you!” her tiny voice piped up, and Morgana nodded, though she herself still seemed uneasy. 

“You’re all FOOLS!” Magica screeched, and a dark cloud of magic began to flicker among her fingers. Morgana’s eyes got wide, and she shoved Minnie away. 

Oswald, in what Minnie took as an act of sheer cowardice, took a tentative step back, then spread his wings and took to the sky, narrowly dodging the bolts of lightning that had begun to gather around Magica as he disappeared into the clouds. Minnie thought to shout after him, but Morgana’s voice stopped her short.

“Minnie, take the egg! Get out of here! Don’t–”

“NOTHING CAN STOP ME!” Magica raised her voice, power crackling all about her, and then she thrust her hands towards the two faeries, who screamed and collapsed. Minnie reached for them, watching in horror as the magic drew the light from their eyes and the color from their skin. And she recognized, as their wings changed into something dark and tattered, what Magica was turning them into. 

“No…” she breathed, trembling in the shock and fear of it all. The gravity of the moment hit her hard a moment later, and she scrambled backwards towards the now-crystalline egg, feeling as though following Morgana’s instructions was all she had the power to do. But even that wasn’t meant to be. 

“Ah, ah!,” Magica cackled, and with another flick of her wrist, a bolt shot out from her hand and struck the egg. Minnie leapt for it, but too late. It shattered as she reached it, the shell crumbling into pieces that she desperately tried to sweep into her arms. Saoirse reappeared from where she’d been resting in the clouds, the kelpie galloping up to Minnie–now bent over the remains of what she thought was their final hope–and nudged her gently. Tried to get her to join her and escape. Minnie shook her head lightly, and set a hand to the kelpie’s muzzle, whispering a soft command that was not quickly obeyed.

But by the time Minnie lifted her head, her friends had been transformed. Saoirse whinnied, a desperate sound, as the newly-formed Sidhe grabbed Minnie roughly and yanked her to her feet. Then the kelpie turned and fled, leaving Minnie with her captors and the witch. She glanced at them, tried to catch a glimpse of even a shred of emotion left over in their eyes, but there was nothing. 

Minnie glared up at Magica. “What do you want?!” she spat, that heat rising to her cheeks again. This all seemed senseless, meaningless. “Power? What good will that do you when the whole world is gone!” 

“Oh, darling,” Magica laughed, smoothing her feathers which had gotten fluffed in her rage. “Power is about so much more than that. Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to take control, to change your fate.” She eyed Minnie carefully and when her eyes fell, Magica grinned. “Ah, I thought you’d understand . ”

She came close to Minnie again, glared at her with those glittering eyes. 

“You see, I know better than anyone the lies they’ll tell you around here, to keep you in line with what they want you to be. In my time, faeries and mortals shared the world. Lived together in what others would call, ‘harmony.’  But I alone saw the truth, how the faeries used our tales, our stories–took the magic we had conjured, and used it for themselves. Only themselves.”  She scoffed, and growled. “Think of what we mortals could have done with magic like theirs! Riches and wonder and beauty beyond your wildest dreams. We could be so much more than simple humans! But of course, when I finally stood up to them, those selfish little insects refused my one request!” 

Her face twisted again into that dark look. “All I wanted was the magic that was rightfully mine,” she hissed, and Minnie shuddered. “But they said it wasn’t for a mortal to use enchantments in such a way, that it wasn’t a power they could give.” Her voice became venomous then, the look in her eyes endlessly dark. “But they were lying. I knew they were lying. You’re proof of that, little princess. They could have given me the power you have now, but no…no, I had to take what I deserved. So all that magic us mortals had given them...I reclaimed it. The rest of our kind should have thanked me but they, too, became my enemy. Helped those dragons–those fools, Fand and Lir–to seal me away…but…not forever…not anymore…”

She drew in a deep and shuddering breath, as though the excitement was too much for her to bear. 

“I would have liked to take more time with Fand’s little servant,” she whispered coldly, turning her attention back to Minnie. “Oh, how wonderful it would have been…to see the faeries’ prized prince clinging so desperately to life, only to lose it at my hand.” She got a shaky, mad look in her eyes, and Minnie’s chest tightened.  Anger burned in her heart, tears stinging in her eyes and slowly, as Magica continued, her gaze traveled up to meet the witch head on. Magica caught her look, and got a strange gleam in her own eyes. “Hm…though, of course, I suppose it wasn’t entirely his fault. The poor faerie hardly knew the gift he’d been granted. But you… ” 

With a wave of her hand, the faeries released Minnie and took a step back, leaving her standing to face Magica alone. 

“You understand me darling, surely,” the witch whispered, her tone eerily soft and tantalizing. “Such power like ours…together…why, we could do the impossible.”

Minnie tensed, sharp refusal lingering on her tongue. But then Magica leaned in, murmured in her ears.

“ You could bring him back…” 

She gasped involuntarily, unable to keep it within. No…no…Oswald had warned her about this. It was a lie, all of it. It had to be. She’d be a fool to even entertain the thought and yet…oh, she could never have imagined how hard it would be to turn away from the idea, even knowing full well she was being baited, used. 

Her hands clutched at her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to shove the temptation away. Only, Magica reached out then, as Minnie’s amulet released a hot flare. Took the fire in her hands this time, though it thrashed more wildly than any natural flame. And when Minnie opened her eyes…

Their gaze met for only a moment.  His eyes were as furious as the fire that made up his form, full of rage and sadness, until they landed on her. And then they melted, widened. She reached for him, and he for her, though his lips were parted in something like dismay. He shook his head ever so faintly, even as Minnie breathlessly formed his name.

Then Magica flicked her wrist, and the fire was swept up within her palm. He was gone, and Minnie cried out in a broken sob as her hand swept through open air. 

Grief clouded her thoughts all over again, and her legs gave out beneath her. Her hands were trembling, one clawing at her heart and the other held lightly to her head. Nothing made sense. Things that had once been so clear now seemed hazy and uncertain. Right and wrong and all she’d ever lived for, it had all come together in one twisting stormcloud in her mind.  Was this how Oswald had been tricked, she wondered? Is this how he had felt, what he’d tried to warn her about? But then…he’d lied to her before, too. 

Magica knelt alongside her, clicked her beak in something like sympathy. It wouldn’t have sounded convincing even to the most gullible of persons, but Minnie was struck with the spell of heartache, and that sort of pain does stranger things to the mind than magic ever could. 

“What…what would I have to do..?” Minnie’s voice was hardly a whisper itself, trembling and uncertain. But the smallest hint of satisfaction crossed Magica’s face the moment the question was asked. 

“Oh, darling,” Magica answered with dark, measured words.. “I ask for nothing more than your power–your Tear–given willingly, and that…that jewel at your hip there. I’ll need both if I’m to bring him back to you, you see.”

Minnie blinked, looking helplessly up at Magica, who had stretched out her hand. Her heartbeat quickened, the thought of taking Mickey again in her arms overtaking her every rationale. She had never asked for this power, or this destiny. Mickey hadn’t either, had never done a thing but try to help. And yet this thread of fate had claimed him anyway. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Minnie opened her mouth, let out a light and shaky breath. “I…”

“ ENOUGH, MAGICA!” Came a furious cry, and before Minnie knew what had happened, Magica was screeching, swarmed by a cloud of something Minnie couldn’t immediately make sense of. In the chaos, two faeries landed beside Minnie, flanked her on either side and held out their wings to keep her protected from the Sidhe who had set their sights on the others in Magica’s moment of distraction. 

The daze persisted, and then someone…or someones… threw their arms around her, held her so tight she could hardly breathe. It wasn’t until she heard the crying that she recognized Daisy’s voice, and slowly, Minnie began to sort through her scattered thoughts. Came to realize what she’d been about to do, how much she’d been about to sacrifice. 

“Minnie, oh, I was so scared! Something felt wrong and, and then that rabbit told us what was happening, and, oh!” she squeezed Minnie even tighter, sniffling into her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re all right…” 

“We came back t’help you, auntie Minnie!” came a smaller voice and Minnie realized it was little Max, his small arms wrapped around one of hers. Saoirse whinnied and knelt beside him, and lifted her head proudly towards the others she had brought. 

Minnie blinked away guilty tears as she lifted her eyes to all the others who had joined her. Donald was one of the faeries at her side, squawking furiously at the possessed Morgana and Clarice. Goofy and Clarabelle stood hand in hand behind Minnie, facing Magica all the while.

But it was Oswald who stood just in front of her, his fists clenched as he held out his wings and stared Magica down. He glanced back for only a moment to catch Minnie’s eyes. 

“Don’t let her trick you,” he told her gently. “Mickey believed in you…”

Donald glanced back at her then, along with a little green pixie who had just joined their ranks. And Goofy and Clarabelle knelt for just a moment to set their hands on her shoulder. Daisy and Max hugged her warmly, and Minnie’s eyes widened, hardly able to fight off the emotion that flooded her heart as all their voices joined together. 

“...And so do we.”

They’d hardly spoken when Magica let out a particularly furious screech, cutting through the noise of the storm and the pixies and every other thing. It caught everyone’s attention, and she threw out both her arms in a massive burst of fire and ice that knocked back most of the pixies. 

“Oh, how TOUCHING!” she spat, eyes glowing that frozen shade of blue. Tendrils of ice leapt from her fingertips, snaking at lightning speed towards every one of Minnie’s companions who had not yet been turned. They shouted, bodies enveloped in the cold, left writhing and completely helpless. Even Daisy and Max were torn from Minnie’s grasp, even as she tried to cling to them. Then Magica’s stare fell on Minnie alone. “I tried to do this the easy way, princess. ”

Darkness spread through those veins of ice, and each of Minnie’s friends gasped as it pierced their hearts, began to cast a shadow over their eyes as it had Morgana and Clarice. And now, through the clouds above them, countless other silhouettes came flying into view, shaking off elemental wounds and looking as menacing as ever.  Minnie’s tail lashed behind her. Sidhe. All of them. Only now she knew more than ever, each and every one was a person. A soul. And…

She could feel them.

Magica was cackling, but Minnie hardly heard it. Morgana’s words rang in her head, of the power she possessed. Of memories. And she could hear them now, see them in little flashes in her mind when she closed her eyes. Some were happy– others sad, but they were all so, so real . Meaningful. Like sparks of color in the dark of night. Calling out to her, begging to be released again. The hearts of their owners were all but empty without them. 

“So what is it, little girl?!” Magica laughed wickedly. “Are you ready to give me what I want?”

Minnie opened her eyes, and they lit up with a glow of their own–a brilliant turquoise crashing against the still-brown rim of her iris, like waves lapping up against the shore. Magica drew back and Minnie lifted her head. 

“No.”

It took hardly more than a little twirl of her fingers for a stream of blue to leap from Minnie’s hands, flowing into every stream of dark and magic and transforming into something else entirely. The dark clouds began to change, began to take on a more fluid form. The thunder sounded more like crashing waves and the lightning looked like seafoam streaking across the sky, which had begun to bend, rising and falling and casting twisted fractals of light on the roots and the beings below. It looked as though the ocean itself had risen up to surround them, and now flowed suspended over their heads. 

Magica scowled and let out a disbelieving, uncertain hiss. Minnie scowled back and, holding Magica’s stare, she reached her hand up to the sky. 

Magica barked something, and the Sidhe all moved at once towards Minnie. But in that moment, a great downpour rained down from that ocean of sky. Raindrops that glimmered with the echoes of the past. And with each one that fell upon one of Magica’s Sidhe, the creature would hiss and screech and clutch at their head, until their tattered clothing melted into something beautiful, their wings regained a beautiful essence of color, and their eyes filled with the light of remembrance. 

In an instant, Magica’s army was wiped out completely. Transformed, and overcome by a state of joy and laughter and disbelief as countless souls regained their being. The bonds on Minnie’s friends fell away and they, too, lost any remnant of dark magic that had begun to alter their forms. 

Magica was surrounded. 

She glanced about her, wide-eyed and furious, and couldn’t make so much as a move towards Minnie without several dozen faeries blocking her path, eager for revenge on the one who’d changed them so. Minnie herself stepped forward then, after a few moments of cherishing the sight of it all.

“Now’s your chance, Magica,” she uttered coldly. “Give up, put an end to all this chaos.” 

For just a brief moment, the witch seemed willing to consider this. She drew in a sharp breath and glanced around her, eyes seeming to soften. But then they grew cold and icy once more, and she darted forward, pausing just in front of Minnie, who hardly flinched. 

“Chaos?” she hissed quietly. “Darling, I thrive on chaos.” She flashed that sinister grin, and though Minnie felt stronger now, there was something about it that left her feeling helpless as ever. Her gaze faltered. “We’ll see how long you can keep this up, without your little friend beside you.” 

She stretched out her hands and darkness pooled up around her. Minnie realized with a start that she was beginning to disappear, and reached out to grab her, but she was too late. Magica had vanished, leaving only the echoes of a screeching shout, a final foreboding promise lingering in the air. 

“BEST OF LUCK, MY LITTLE PUPPETS! I’LL BE SEEING YOU ALL…VERY SOON.”

#y'all gotta give me grace on this chapter okay #I've been writing it for like a month and a half #I just couldn't get satisfied with it #ahhh wellllll #StoriesComeAlive #myth and magic #myth & magic #the mice #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #fanfiction #my writing

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 13: Lullaby

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Mickey's secret is revealed, and Minnie's trust is put to the test.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~~

Mickey had never run so fast, not in his entire life. His climb out of the dungeon had not been an easy one, but the same magic that had covered the dragon’s keep in flowers had aided in his escape. Vines had sprouted upon the walls and woven up towards the sky, and he had clambered up them as quickly as his little body would allow. He was still weak from earlier, his tunic torn and back streaked with a gash from where the whip had scourged him. Every muscle in his body ached and burned, but all that meant as far as he was concerned, was that he was alive. And as long as he was alive, he really only had one goal. 

His heart still ached, a light, dull sort of sadness, for the dragon and her fate. But her words had invigorated him nonetheless. He felt strong–believed in, even–and it filled his heart with a warm light and a determination to do such a gift justice.

The Sidhe would be after Minnie, he was sure of it.  Whatever Daisy had planned, she couldn’t have accounted for that. Someone had to warn them. He had to warn them. Or…oh no.

He saw flashes of light emanating from a small spot in the castle town, and knew at once it could be nothing but magic. His heart shuddered. They’d beaten him there. His only hope was that this indicated there was a battle still to be had. Minnie would be all right. He would have known otherwise. He narrowed his eyes and leapt over the peak of a grassy hill, skidding down its slope and then hitting the ground running once again. His chest heaved with exertion but it would be worth it, he told himself. It had to be.

As he bolted across the town’s borders, a sudden flash of light erupted near the town square. His eyes widened, and his pulse quickened. Something was happening. Something bad. A familiar scream rang out through the streets, amplified a thousand times over in his ears. Minnie. There was pain in her voice. Real, physical pain. Anger burned inside of him.

If they hurt her…

His pounding feet led him straight into the chaos. He saw nothing else. Not the barrier which should have kept every mortal outside, not the army which waited anxiously for their chance to strike, not even the other faces who fought so furiously against the Sidhe. He saw only Minnie, and the spear about to pierce her heart. 

With a desperate shout, he thrust himself at the Sidhe, digging his nails as deeply into her arms as he could in a frenzied attempt to keep her from bringing the weapon down upon Minnie. “Get…away…from her!!” he shouted, gasping for every breath that he spent in this tug of war. 

The creature shrieked, but was distracted just as Mickey hoped. She turned away from Minnie and instead began to focus her attention on being rid of the pest that had latched itself to her back. This, unfortunately, was not a difficult endeavor. In hardly ten seconds, he felt himself flung off, his body hitting a stone wall with a distinct cracking sort of sound. For a brief moment, his vision went black, and Mickey woke up a second later to find himself crumpled beneath the stone cold eyes of the Sidhe. He pushed himself up, a flaming glare in his eyes, and scowled. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky. Minnie screamed his name. Mortimer shouted something he didn’t quite hear. Then a shudder ripped through the village, ripped through Mickey. Magica had screeched something just before, but the words escaped him. Everything escaped him, except for the helpless feeling of breathlessness that flooded his body. His back flared, like two pinpoints digging into his shoulderblades, and a massive migraine tore through his skull. 

He screamed, then groaned, blinking away the blur as he tried to take in his surroundings. The Sidhe had collapsed, lifeless, and the others had…AGH! Mickey gasped, and lurched forward. Then, slowly, as he truly came to, he felt a massive weight at his back. 

His stomach churned and his body shook. Something had changed. Something was different, and he had a sickening suspicion that he didn’t want to entertain. He was afraid to look behind him, but his shadow said it all. In the usual shape of his form, branching out past the silhouette of his shoulders, feathers stretched out like looming branches. 

He caught sight of Minnie, and all his own concerns seemed like specks of dust. She was on the ground, head cradled in Daisy’s hands and blood seeping into the dirt from a wound Mickey hadn’t seen at first. Her body writhed,mouth gaping open as if trying to breathe, but all that came from her were gagging little coughs that spilled water onto her fur.  Mickey’s blood went cold.

…all that binds her to life.

Fand’s words sat in his mind, sparking a terrifying apprehension as he realized what was going on. Whatever had happened, the enchantment that safeguarded Minnie’s life had been interrupted.

He watched as she lifted a trembling arm ever so slightly and reached his way before collapsing back again. Mickey could hardly move, but he forced himself to. For her sake. It was hardly more than a crawl, really, the way he pulled himself towards her. His body hurt as if a sickness was sweeping through it, but he pushed through anyway, dragging himself through the ever-worsening rain. When he finally reached her, Daisy relinquished control as Mickey swept Minnie up in his lap and gently cradled her head in the crook of his arm. He tore a piece of his tunic and held it to her wound to try to slow the bleeding, but he was at a loss as to how to stop her drowning. All he could do was set his hand to her cheek in some pitiful semblance of comfort. 

Daisy stared at him and his wings, clumsily outstretched, shocked but not shocked. If he had been watching her at all, he might have seen the look in her eye that was something like an “I knew it”, but he was far too focused on Minnie to care.

“What happened? What changed?!” he gasped frantically, glancing at Daisy for only a moment. 

“Mortimer did something! I-I don’t know exactly what, but-”

“So what d’we do?!”

“If you can get far enough away from the epicenter of the spell…it might be enough to break its hold on her!”

Mickey pursed his lips as Minnie coughed up another wave, and swept her up in his arms. He took note of her paling face with a painful lurch of his heart. There was fear in her eyes, and he hated that he couldn’t take it away. He looked around him, clutching her tightly to his chest as he scanned for any opening through which to escape.

By now, the surrounding soldiers seemed to realize the barrier keeping them from intervening had vanished entirely. Or, at the very least, Mortimer did. He stood up from where he’d been safely positioned in the back of his troops, and shouted furiously. “What are you idiots waiting for? Attack them!”

But the soldiers did not. At least not at first. As they stood in the rain, the droplets soaking through their leather armor and tunics, a ripple of confused murmurs swept through their ranks. From the front, a soldier whispered a shuddering question that soon echoed among his peers. 

“...Isn’t that the princess?”

“It’s her…”

“...I remember now…”

Mortimer reeled, eyes widening in furious shock when their words reached him. Anyone who’d been drenched in the rainwater was now looking back at him with wild distrust in their eyes. He sputtered wordlessly at first, desperate to maintain his authority. When he couldn’t think of anything too convincing to say, he fell back upon his rage. 

“ I am your KING! ” he shouted furiously. “Everything you are, you owe to ME! Attack them, now!”

Memory does not equal loyalty, and a good number of the soldiers were convinced by Mortimer’s empty commands. They had, after all, been handpicked by him, which largely meant they were the sort to have joined for purely selfish reasons. But not all. Where many narrowed their focus and lifted their spears to rush the wounded party in the square, a small number of determined souls pushed from the ranks to flank the border and lifted their shields, keeping their compatriots from invading.

“You! Fairy boy!” An older guard, experience written in the scars across his face, shouted gruffly as he pushed his shield back against an onslaught of soldiers, and Mickey turned to look. “You’ve got wings, don’t you? Use them! Get her out of here!” 

Fly? Mickey took a step back and swallowed. No, no, he didn’t know how. He’d fall. He’d hurt her. Shrinking against the rising cries of the mob about to break through, he opened his mouth to argue. Daisy had been taking advantage of the brief moment of protection by darting to each of her friends,each of them still reeling from their forced transformation. When she heard the soldier speak, she cast a pointed glare Mickey’s way. “Do it, idiot! She needs you!” 

An enemy soldier broke through, spearing the one blocking her path. Daisy stopped her from getting too far but with the wall broken, others rushed to follow. Daisy’s friends leapt up, pulling daggers from beneath their dresses, to fill the gap and hold the line as best they could. 

Minnie’s movements were slowing, and the fear that rushed through Mickey’s heart at that realization was enough to overcome his self doubt.  He tested his wings, willed them to move. It was a strange feeling, as they unfolded in a trembling curtain of feathers, almost surreal. Every raindrop that splashed against them, rolling down each plume, was one he felt as clearly as if it had collided against his skin.  He beat them twice, testing the wind as it pillowed beneath, and drew in a breath. It felt familiar, like he’d done this before. 

Had he?

The enemies pushed forward with a unified strength and with a cry, the group’s newfound protectors were forced to pull back. Spurred by Mortimer’s barking commands, the invaders immediately focused on Mickey, the princess now hanging limply in his arms. But as they neared, Mickey urged his feathers downward in a final, powerful sweep.

A gust of wind rippled out from under him, and the soldiers stumbled backwards, holding their arms in front of their eyes to shield them from the raindrops that were swept like daggers towards them. By the time they recovered, Mickey was no longer on the ground. 

He was anything but graceful as he took to the skies. Each beat of his wings was clumsy, and he realized quickly that his right wing was weaker than the left, a slight twist in its feathers making for sloppy shaping of the air. To stay aloft took every bit of his concentration to achieve. But it was for Minnie. So he grit his teeth and managed to steady himself enough to keep rising. 

“We’ll find you!”  Daisy shouted up to him, her voice growing smaller by the second. “Just get her to safety!”

Mickey nodded, though there was no way she could have seen. Minnie was now completely still, save for a light curl of her tail every couple seconds or so, and it took everything Mickey had not to plummet to the earth for sheer panic. Hold on, he urged her as the chaos of the village vanished from view. He didn’t know how far he’d have to fly to take her out of the spell’s range, but he’d go ‘round the whole world if he had to. 

Had circumstances been different, Mickey might have marveled at the view that stretched before his eyes. With the castle and its town far behind them, and stormclouds far below, nothing but starlight stretched for miles, ribboned by a green aurora that wove its way through the air. It was another world entirely, the one up in the sky. But Mickey was oblivious to it all.

He had flown for only a few minutes when he felt a sudden shudder rush through him, like a hum of magic that had been reignited. Minnie stirred. She flinched, then lurched in his arms, and he had to adjust quite quickly to keep from losing his grip or plummeting to the ground. Unfortunately, he couldn’t have predicted Minnie’s reaction when her eyes blinked open. They fell to rest on his face and, at first, filled with the warmth and joy of recognition. Then a look swept through them that Mickey didn’t recognize, and they widened in terror. 

Before he could question the change, Minnie was clawing at his chest, crying and screeching hysterically, and trying to push him away. 

“Minnie, Min! Minnie, stop, it’s me!” Mickey gasped, trying his best to calm her and keep his concentration on the flight. But there was a crazed look across her face, one that proved she was deaf to his pleas. Struggling to keep his grip, Mickey started to descend. He was exhausted, and shocked by Minnie’s sudden outburst. She was confused. She had to be. Why would sh- “Agh!”

Mickey yelped and flinched, face twisted in pain. Daisy’s aid from before had helped to drive the poison from his veins, but the burns from the cuffs they’d placed around his wrists still remained. Minnie had dug her nails into these burns, prompting an altogether involuntary response from Mickey. It didn’t register at first, that he’d let go. He had curled instinctively from the pain and brought his hands to his chest with a whimper. Then he heard her scream and noticed the emptiness in his arms, and with a rush of horror saw her falling through the clouds.

“ MINNIE!” he screeched, and instinct took over.

His wings folded by his side as he dipped towards the earth, nose-diving without a second thought towards the falling princess. The ground came into view far sooner than it felt like it should have, and sheer panic flooded Mickey’s soul. He pressed his wings tighter around his body, and then reached with all he had. A few yards from the ground–too close to stop his trajectory–he caught her by the hand and brought her to his chest, flipping over so that his back was to the earth when they hit the ground. 

Overwhelming pain shot through him when he opened his eyes and he gasped, gulping in air. One wing rested at a crooked angle to his side and the other lay twisted beneath him. Before his eyes, Minnie was standing over him. She held something in her hand and as Mickey blinked away the blur, he saw that it was some kind of sharply pointed stone.

A breath escaped him, carrying with it a shaky sort of disbelief.

“M-Min?”

Her nose twitched, and he saw that there were tears dripping off it. “Who are you?” she seethed, voice thick with anger and sadness. 

Mickey tried to push himself up and failed miserably. He was entirely spent, and could hardly register the confusion racing through his head. “Wh-what are y’talkin’ about, Minnie?” he breathed, hating that he was terrified of the way she raised that stone over her head.

She wouldn’t hurt him. She loved him. She loved him. 

…right?

“It’s…it’s just me. Mickey. It’s…just me.”

“LIAR!” she screeched, and Mickey flinched as her hand seemed prepared to bring that stone down. But she stopped just above his chest, her tears dripping onto his fur as his lungs heaved for air. She stared at him for several moments, her eyes narrowed with rage and betrayal; his wide, afraid, and confused. 

“Min…” Mickey whimpered. Her hand was shaking, clutching that stone like a knife as she held it hovering above his heart. 

“You took everything from me…” she sobbed. “You took everything from me, and then you took my heart, too. Why..?  WHY?!”

Mickey wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t understand, but he felt altogether responsible…somehow. Like he’d deserve it if she drove that makeshift blade through his chest.  When he didn’t respond for several long seconds, Minnie bared her teeth, raising the weapon to bring it down on him.

Mickey shut his eyes, preparing for the worst, but instead he heard the rush of something landing against the snow. When he dared to look, Minnie was crumpled beside him, the blade gone from her grip as she sobbed into her hands. He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, tension falling away with a shudder.

The pain truly registered then, a horrid, nauseating sweep from his wings to his brain.  It made his vision spin as he tried to at least sit up, fighting against a wave of darkness that loomed at the corner of his sight. But it was Minnie he was worried about, more than the worst of the shudders that ripped through his body. 

They had fallen in the hillside, in a place mostly empty but scattered with trees, each several paces from the other. It was snowing here, as it had been in all the places they’d been through when they’d been carted to the castle. For once, this was probably a good thing. The powder had broken Mickey’s fall, and the broken wing that resulted was far better than what the alternative could have been.

The flakes fell in lazy drifts, settling upon the sparkling blanket in a quiet sort of dance. Mickey was grateful for the chill that kept him from dissolving into sleep, but he knew it put Minnie at risk. She had her arms wrapped around her knees now, tears still slipping down her face as she stared off into the distance, as if she’d find something there that would answer all her questions. Her body shuddered, but she didn’t seem to notice. That worried Mickey, too. Whatever had overcome her mind, it seemed to have robbed her of every feeling.

“Min..?” he tried again, in a broken sort of tone. He couldn’t understand why she refused to look his way, why the sound of his voice made her wince. “Minnie, please…talk t’me…”

He set his hand to her shoulder, and she finally reacted. She whipped around to look at him, distrust blazing in her eyes, and lifted her hand as if to knock him away. But then that familiar feeling tingled through both of them, that mixture of warm and cold, and she froze. Her fingers hung in the air, raised to push him back, but they wouldn’t move any further.  

Her gaze melted, still hurt, still confused, but now softer. She stared at his face for what felt like ages, and Mickey slowly brought his other hand to her. Her own fell to her side as he stroked the curve of her shoulders, gently, calmly, as one might caress an injured animal. A breath escaped her lips, then her eyes welled, and without warning she was burying herself in his chest. “You…wouldn’t…” she sobbed, words slurred. “I’m wrong…I have to be…wrong…”

Mickey did his best to stand his ground, he really did. But the pain in his back and wings was stronger now, and as he held her, his legs gave out from under him and brought them both down into the snow. “...ngh...’m sorry…” he gasped, falling to his knees. 

But now she was holding him, her eyes darting to his twisted wings, her hands slipping over his back and shoulders as she felt for the places where he was hurt. “Oh…” she whimpered, sniffing away her tears. “...Oh, what have I done…”

“‘S’alright,” Mickey laughed, as best he could at least, and his hand found her cheek. She paused then, and so did he, taking in the beauty of the flush in her cheeks and the kindness that had been restored in her gaze. He hoped he’d never have to see hatred in those eyes ever again. “...must’ve done somethin’ real awful t’make an angel like you so mad, though.”

Her shoulders slumped, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “Mickey, I…” She looked away, biting her lip like she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to explain. 

But he wanted to know. It scared him, the thought of what she might say, but if he’d done something to her in the time he couldn’t remember, he was desperate to know how to put it right. “It’s all right, Min,” he assured her, in a voice more serious than any he’d ever used. “You can tell me.”

She drew in a breath and opened her mouth, every bit of her trembling. “It doesn’t make sense,” she whimpered. “But when I saw your wings…it’s like I could remember, clear as day.”

He leaned in, his grip on her as gentle as ever. “Remember what?”

“The fairy…the one who took my memories away…” she whispered, and though she avoided his gaze, she leaned into his chest as if to tell him she wasn’t afraid. “It was you.” 

Mickey flinched when he heard those words, and his heart dropped to his stomach. “Me?” he asked in an empty tone, his mouth dry, and he let his grip on Minnie falter. 

“It’s all right!” Minnie assured him, feeling him pull away, and she set her hand behind his neck to keep him from going too far. 

“No…no, it’s not,” Mickey breathed, running his hand through the fur between his ears. That fairy had taken her whole life from her, had doomed her to loneliness and heartache. If that was him, how dare he be with her now, as if he wasn’t to blame. “That’s…that’s…Minnie, are you sure?”

He could tell by the way she pursed her lips that she wanted to take it all back and lie. But slowly, quietly, she lowered her head. “I remember your face,” she murmured. “So clearly. Maybe I’m wrong…somehow. I want to be. But when I close my eyes, when I think back to that day…it’s your face I see.”

Mickey shuddered. He felt nauseous, more so than before. “Min…if…if that’s true, I shouldn’t be here,” he stuttered. “I shouldn’t be with you. What if there’s something I don’t know? What if I hurt you again? What if-”

Before he could utter another word, he found himself silenced by her lips pressed against his. A sweet, trembling sort of kiss that he felt he should escape from. He didn’t deserve it, after all. Didn’t deserve her, let alone her affections. But it was so gentle, so kind, so trusting…it made him feel like all his mistakes were swept away. He fell back against the snow, wings splayed to his sides, and she was there on top of him, pulling her lips away only when he had relaxed completely. 

“You said you wanted to put things right,” she breathed, his chin cradled in her hand as she lay atop his chest, looking down at him with deep pools of affection. “I don’t see how you plan to do that if you leave.”

Mickey chuckled lightly. Only Minnie could so quickly turn his guilt to gladness, or her fear to boundless faith. “A’right, you’ve convinced me,” he murmured, her kiss still tingling on his lips. He studied her eyes, those oceans of relentless belief, and sighed. “I will fix it, though.” His voice was more serious now. “I’ll get your memories back. Both of ours. And…an’ I’ll put things right. No matter what I’ve gotta do.” 

Minnie didn’t respond, only smiled softly and left one more brisk kiss on his lips before finding her way back to her feet. “We should find the others,” she resolved as she brushed off the snow from her dress. Small droplets of blood stained the patches of ice, and she faltered when she stood, holding a hand to her head. “Oh…”

It wasn’t as if Mickey was faring any better, but he scrambled to stand the moment he saw the sway in her stance, and managed to catch her before she lost her balance entirely. “Ya need t’rest first,” he spoke quietly, and wobbled a bit himself. “...ugh…we both do, I think.”

She took a breath, a puff of steam billowing from her lips when she let it out again, and looked back at him. “Any ideas?”

There wasn’t much to go off as far as direction was concerned in this place. The stars were shrouded by clouds, and it wasn’t as if there were any visible roads or signage to point the way to civilization. Mickey frowned, and cast a glance behind him at his wings. Maybe he could…

Tentatively, he tried to spread his feathers, but they got only about halfway open before both his wings seized. He gasped and lurched forward, Minnie turning back around to catch him this time. “Gosh…I’m useless, aren’t I?” Mickey laughed, gripping her shoulder to steady himself, but he wasn’t really joking. 

“Oh, stop that,” Minnie scolded. “You’re only hurt because of me, anyway.” He opened his mouth to argue–she had, after all, only hurt him because he had done such a horrible thing–but she hushed him before he could say a word. “-and don’t try to argue. I’m too tired to play that game.”

Mickey laughed a bit at her resolve, then lifted his eyes to the horizon. There had to be something here that could lead them to shelter. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something peeking through the snow. He squinted, and realized it was a piece of fencepost, most of its shape hidden by the drifts. With a wrinkle of his nose, he tilted his head and glanced to his left, wondering if…ah! Yes, there was another, just the tip of the wood visible. 

“What is it?” Minnie asked curiously, noticing his sudden fascination with the surrounding area.

He grinned, spotting another fencepost, and then another, and knowing that just over the next hill, they would lead to a crumbling little barn. “I know this place!” he yipped cheerfully, and began to pull her along, their feet crunching through the snow.  “There’s a spot up ahead we can rest ‘til mornin’.”

Though the area was familiar, it was hardly recognizable. It took Mickey a bit longer than he’d expected to find what they were looking for, mainly because the barn in question was halfways covered by snow and was easily missed from a distance, especially in the dark. But when he had finally caught sight of the dull, brown wood and the decrepit silo just beside, he smiled and scooped Minnie up in his arms. She yelped, protesting his efforts because he “was just as tired as she was, and needed to rest too,” but he was tired of feeling helpless, and since the cold had dulled his pain at least somewhat, he figured he’d put the momentary comfort to good use.

“Nonsense, m’lady,” he’d countered with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and spun her around in the snow for good measure, just to show her he was perfectly fine. In truth, the motion made him quite queasy and threw him a bit off balance, but he didn’t share that part. She giggled, and he thought if that laugh was all he had to live on, he’d be practically immortal. 

The barn’s door had long since been blocked by the snow, but part of the roof had caved in and made for the perfect entrance. This, of course, meant that the inside of the barn was largely coated with ice as well. But there was a little corner towards the back where the boards had fallen just right, and had shielded the place from the elements for the most part. It was here that Mickey leapt into, softening his fall with what little flutter of his wings he could manage. He set Minnie down as if she were a princess (which, of course, she was ) and the patch of hay her grand, silk bed. 

“Welcome to your chambers, Your Highness,” he bowed playfully and strangely, though this nook was shrouded in shadow, she could make out his form just fine. 

Mickey had been busy flourishing, and only noticed her curious stare when he finally uprighted himself and opened his eyes. “Er…you can laugh, y’know?”

Minnie shook her head, flushing as though he’d caught her doing something quite embarrassing. “Sorry, sorry!” she giggled, then shook her head and started staring all over again. “It’s just…well…you’re beautiful.”

“Eh?” Mickey wrinkled his nose, not quite sure if that was a compliment or a joke at his expense. But then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a small portion of the window to his right, surprisingly still intact, and realized what she had meant.

His body emanated with a faint glow. Nothing too striking, not a fiery blaze or harsh gleam. But something like candlelight…a gentle thrum of warmth and comfort. In the places where his fur was showing, upon his head and through the tears in his tunic, small speckles glittered like starlight against the black. And his wings…

Those sparkled most of all. Even injured, they shone brilliantly, each plume a calm brown that faded into a milky white. He swallowed as he took it in. It was his first time seeing himself since he’d transformed. For so long, he’d dreaded even encountering a fairy. So now, knowing he was one, and had been all along…

Well, he wasn’t sure what to think.

When the first hints of the truth had started to seep through–his venomous reaction to silver, the comments of everyone at the castle, and Fand’s remark about hidden wings–he’d been so afraid to accept the possibility. He’d thought Minnie vastly opposed to the fae, and feared what she might think if she’d thought those rumors true. But…they were true. He was proof of that now, standing before her in a splendor he wished he could hide. 

But there was fascination in her eyes, and a calm wonder as she drank in the sight. 

Then she shivered, frost forming on her fur, and Mickey shook off his reservations as he knelt beside her. Even shielded from the weather, it was still far too cold for her here. He bit his lip, thinking of a way to change that. Fairies had magic, right? Surely he could use it. He narrowed his focus on a stray piece of splintered wood just across from them, and stretched out a hand. 

Fire! He thought, and willed it to burst into flames. But it remained cold as ever. He tried again, and still nothing, though Minnie was now looking at him like he was crazy. 

“Erm…what are you doing?” she laughed, crinkling her nose. 

“Tryin’ to start a… FIRE! ” Mickey replied, and shouted that last bit as he started intently at the piece of wood. It only stared back, or so he thought, with a taunting little expression. He was about to try again when Minnie caught his arm. 

“Careful, tiger,” she winked. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Well, then how else am I s’posed to keep ya warm?!” he shouted back, and it took him about a minute before he caught the mix of embarrassment and humor that flushed Minnie’s cheeks. “W-wait…I didn’t mean…”

“I didn’t say you did!” Minnie yelped back, voice squeaking a bit more than usual. 

“Not that I wouldn’t-”

“Mmhm!”

“Then again, I don’t see how else…”

Minnie swallowed, and Mickey blushed. 

“Gosh, I mean…I guess if it’s just for…y’know…necessity…”

“Ah…yes, necessity…”

“...And it’s all right with you…”

“It is!” 

Minnie squealed that last part a bit too loud, and brought her hands to her mouth in sheer embarrassment. Mickey laughed and scratched the spot behind his ears, then flushed deeply.

“Erm…may I?”

Minnie nodded, cheeks cherry red, and Mickey took a place in the hay beside her. His warmth flared, and so did his glow, which he really wished he could dim just slightly. Nevertheless, he reached first for her hand, which then became her shoulder, then her hip, until she had moved entirely into his grasp as he leaned up against wall. “Better?” he breathed, as she curled herself up in his lap, her head resting against his chest. 

She hummed contentedly, and Mickey smiled, bringing a wing around her to shield her from the drafts that seeped through the cracks in the walls. He could feel the rising and falling of her chest against his ribs, her hands as they stroked his fur, and her tail as it intertwined with his. 

“Mickey?” she breathed quietly after a few minutes. Both of them knew they should try to sleep, but neither really wanted to.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you…for everything.”

He scoffed a bit, but tried not to jolt her too much. “For everythin’?” he laughed. “There’s a lotta not-so-good stuff in there, too.” 

“Still…” she murmured, and when neither said anything else for some time, she spoke again. 

“Do you think those monsters will come back?” she murmured, and when she trembled, Mickey ran his hand through the fur at her back, slipping his hand through the gaps in her corset. She didn’t seem to mind. “The Sidhe. They…they seemed different this time.”

Mickey didn’t have the heart to tell her about what he’d seen in the dragon’s crypt. About how cruel they could really be, or the one named Magica who seemed to be pulling their strings. He’d have to tell her about Fand eventually, of course. He’d made a promise. But for now…he’d been the cause of enough fear and heartache today. All he really wanted to do was make her feel safe, however much an illusion true safety might be.

“You’ve got a song for that, right?” he asked with a tad of selfish intent. “Y’know…one to keep us hidden.” 

Minnie stirred, and he could feel her cheeks get warm. “...You remember that?”

Ah. He’d never exactly told her that, since she’d first sung it for him, he’d passed by her cottage every twilight just to hear her sing. So he cleared his throat, neglecting to share that minor detail. “’Course I do. I…well, I think ‘bout that night a lot, I guess.”

“So do I…” she murmured softly, and was quiet for a few moments before continuing. “...but I’ve got other songs too, you know.”

“Do ya really?”

“Mmhm…”

“Like what?”

“Well,” she breathed. “I’ve got a song that can make a flower blossom, and…and another that can make you fall asleep, and-”

“Ah, I like that one.”

“Hm?” 

Mickey yawned. “The one that can make y’fall asleep. ‘sa lullaby, I bet, right?”

“Well, yes…only, it makes me a bit tired, too…”

“Think you could try?”

“Well, I…I suppose…”

Try she did, in a soft and dreamy sort of voice, and Mickey listened with great contentment as the lullaby echoed against the barn walls. It did make him drowsy, and his lids grew heavy after only a few short seconds. But he was a fairy, and he’d counted on that revelation to resist her charms as he listened intently, and stroked her back all the while.

She’d been singing for hardly two minutes when her words grew slurred and drowsy. Then, after a particularly lovely note, they dissolved entirely. Minnie’s body relaxed, and her breaths slowed into a gentle rhythm of their own. To Mickey, they were just as sweet a sound as her song had been. 

From up in the rafters–the few that remained at least–a raven ruffled its feathers and stared down at them. Mickey, having been studying the way Minnie’s lips opened just slightly with every breath, looked up briefly and caught its eye. What are you lookin’ at? He mouthed with a small smirk gracing his mouth, and shook his head in amusement as it leapt up in a sort of startled hop, and took back to the sky.

It was only a few minutes more before Minnie’s enchantment caught up to Mickey, too and, hand still light against her back, he gave into his heavy lids and fell asleep.

#just thought I'd give you all whiplash this week #idk #sounded fun #myth and magic #myth & magic #StoriesComeAlive #fanfiction #my writing #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie #mortimer mouse #daisy duck #oswald the lucky rabbit #ortensia whiskers #clarabelle cow #magica de spell #morgana macawber #clarice the chipmunk

[starryserenade]

New little ficlet out today. I should just call this the drama collection or something, tbh

#it's a sleepy drabble folks #don't expect anything great haha #StoriesComeAlive #BAHAHAHA #this is me just realizing that daylight savings just happened #and I am #technically up far later than I thought #lol #my writing #fanfiction #mickey x minnie

[starryserenade]

New little drabble up. This one's real drama lol

#there's a happy ending I swear #I just didn't get around to writing it #this felt like a better place to stop #StoriesComeAlive #my writing #fanfiction

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 19: The Eye

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: The party encounters new friends, and receives discouraging news. Time is running short, and hasty decisions must be made.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~~

Minnie could hardly hear the others, though she knew they were arguing around her in panicked voices and desperate whispers. They were scared, and their fear drifted off of them into her own pounding chest, as if she needed any more of it. She was still cradling Mickey, who had quieted only for exhaustion but still writhed in her arms, blinking as if in a daze. His feathers fluffed and then flattened back and forth with no rhyme or reason, and a strange cooing bubbled from his beak every now and then, almost musical in sound. She wished more than anything he could just change back, certain that if she could only see his face she’d know just how to help, how to soothe the crazed look in his eyes.  

It was Clarabelle who approached Minnie first, kneeling beside her with a gentle touch to her shoulder to let her know she was there. “If y’ask me, darlin’, this is a siren’s work,” she explained.”

“But then…” Minnie started quietly, never tearing her eyes away from the little creature in her arms. “Why was he the only one..?”

“Well, you’ve got to remember, he’s not a mouse just now. He’s got the hearin’ of an owl, which is…well, it’s plenty different than ours, that’s for certain.”

“…knew that eejit’s mistake would cost us!” Daisy’s voice gradually pierced through the fog of Minnie’s fear, and she turned to look her way. The duck was arguing vehemently with Morgana, her cheeks a fiery red. “I just knew it!”

“Enough!” Morgana snapped, in a rare bout of fury. “There is more to this than you know! We still don’t know for sure what’s happened, but as it stands, his warning may have saved us all. You’d do well to thank him when he wakes!”

“ Thank him?! I-!”

“Daisy…” This time it was Minnie who spoke, her voice weak and broken. Daisy’s dislike of Mickey hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, but she’d hoped it would fade. Her friend had always been temperamental, prone to outbursts and strong opinions. Sometimes that was good. Other times it was…well, Minnie was tired. And scared. And presently, all she desperately wanted was for her friend to shut her beak and help . Her eyes must have said that in some sort of way, because when Daisy whipped her head around to finally, actually take a look at Minnie – and the bundle of feathers in her arms – she paled, and swallowed roughly, like she’d just now become aware of herself.  

She opened her bill, and then for once couldn’t seem to find the words. But that was all right. Silence was all Minnie needed, if that was what it took to keep the insults at bay. She simply couldn’t stand to hear them anymore, not with him in this state.

Morgana cast one last pointed look at Daisy, and then quietly made her way over to Minnie. She knelt beside her and smiled gently. “He’ll be all right, you know. It’s just a bit of spellsong, and he got himself away from the worst of it. Takes a strong faerie to do that much.”

Mickey squirmed uncomfortably in Minnie’s grip, and let out such a horribly pitiful sound that the tears she’d been holding back nearly burst through. “How do I help him?”

“Well-”

“Here.” The sound of another voice startled Minnie, but she looked up to find Daisy beside her, something lying in her outstretched palm. Minnie recognized it as a ribbon she’d been wearing in her feathers only moments prior.  She wouldn’t make eye contact with Minnie, seemed too ashamed to try. “Use this. Spend enough time around sirens and you learn how to block out their tune.”

It was an apology, the best way Daisy knew how to make one, and Minnie knew this. As she took hold of the gift, she squeezed her friend’s palm, got her to look back, and smiled. “ Thank you .” 

Daisy shifted under her stare – she never was good at this sort of thing – but then managed to smile back, and nod briskly. “Ha, what are friends for?”

Minnie laughed softly and turned back to Mickey, managing to calm him enough to tie the ribbon around his head, covering his ears. She kept brushing her fingertips through the feathers that lined his face and eventually he relaxed, slowly blinking up at her with those wide, full eyes that seemed to grow richer with every moment.  

“You’re all right,” Minnie breathed, relief flooding every bone in her body as she watched him settle. “You did wonderfully. Thank you for coming back to us.” He chirped weakly in reply and nestled into the crook of her arm. Even without his normal features, she could tell he was exhausted, and she wondered how much longer he’d have to maintain the facade. She couldn’t quite tell if it was helping or hurting him to stay this way. “Do you think you can try to change back?” she whispered, and he twisted a bit. “It’s alright if you ca-”

But he interrupted her with a short, tired screech, and had already begun to try to wriggle out of her grip. This was a whole ordeal in and of itself, full of sloppy wingbeats and a flurry of downy feathers as he tried to clamber out of her lap and onto the ground. Minnie was almost thankful for the brief moment of chaos – it was so Mickey that it left no room for doubt that he was now entirely back with her…in mind and spirit at least.

He stumbled dizzily on the earth once he’d finally landed himself there, and Minnie had to offer her arm to lean on more than once to keep him from falling over. When he’d finally steadied, shaking the dust from his feathers, he looked up at her and tilted his head as if to say, ‘now what?’

Obviously she had no clue, and they both turned to Morgana. 

“I truly am sorry for urging you into this so quickly,” the faerie spoke softly, setting her focus on Mickey. “I was worried we would not have time later on…but, ah, I’ll do my best to help you n-”

A chilling howl sounded throughout the forest and even with his hearing impaired, Mickey jumped and let out a screech before fluttering back up to Minnie’s shoulder. The other faeries and Morgana didn’t seem quite so afraid, Minnie noted, though an air of intense concern fell over them. There was something like recognition in the way they stood and looked towards the sound as if, whether foreboding or not, the source itself was of no danger to them.

The pulsing light of the foliage shuddered, and a brighter glow appeared in the shadows beyond, accompanied by the sound of…well, Minnie wasn’t quite sure what it was. Something like words…maybe? But garbled, wheezy, and completely indistinguishable, like whoever was speaking them (shouting, really) was trying to talk with a mouth full of something that was far too hot.

Beside her, Daisy drew in a breath and grinned, even as the rest of the mortal visitors tensed.  

“SLOWDOWNYACRAZYMUTT!” the voice came screaming through as the foliage parted and an enormous dog burst into the clearing, an infuriated rider on its back. The other members of the party yelped and gathered up their skirts (or, children, in the case of Goofy) as it came screeching to a halt. Before the grumbling rider had even a moment to gather themselves, they had been tackled from their place by Daisy who, to Minnie’s unparalleled shock, was kissing the person all over, even as he tried to scramble to his feet. 

“DONALD!!” 

Minnie wasn’t quite sure what to focus on–the dog who now sat panting at the center of them all, looking rather proud and silly all at once with its head held high, tongue hanging lazily out its mouth – or Daisy and her… lover , she assumed?  She realized now with a pang of guilt she hadn’t exactly asked her friend much about what she’d gotten up to in her absence – no wonder she’d not taken to Mickey as quickly as Minnie would’ve liked. 

On her shoulder, Mickey seemed just as uncertain as she was, feathered head swiveling back and forth between the two very chaotic situations playing out before them. He piped a baffled chirp into her ear, but all Minnie could do was giggle softly and continue to watch. “Don’t ask me,” she whispered. “Daisy’s completely unpredictable.”

By now, Daisy had ceased her smooching just long enough to go through an inevitable mood swing, and now she was sitting red-faced and pouting just beside the dazed duck. “I was worried SICK,” she scolded him angrily. “I sent word to you days ago and not a single whisper back!”

“But I DI-”

“DAYS, Donald!” she screeched, and now she was crying, as he sat uncomfortably beside her. 

“But I tried t-!” 

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?!”

And Minnie slowly came to realize that, if Daisy had sent word days ago, there almost certainly wouldn’t have been time for him to reply before they’d started off on their escape from the castle.  She had a feeling Daisy knew that too, but if she knew her friend, she was enjoying every second that Donald took to try to soothe her tantrum. Though she had half a mind to interject, she allowed Daisy just a moment more (only fair she should be rewarded for her earlier reconciliation) before speaking up. Then she piped in, an air of amusement in her tone. Whoever this Donald was, she knew she was rescuing him. 

“Oh, Daisy! Who’s your friend?” 

Sure enough, Daisy ceased her tears almost immediately and got a huge grin on her face. She grabbed Donald’s hand and yanked him to his feet, rather against his will, and Minnie saw then, with a bit of surprise, that he was a faerie too. He was wearing a simple cloak –as simple as you could get for faerie clothing, which still meant it was interwoven with all sorts of leaflike textures. There was a bluish hue to his attire that matched his wings, and he might have looked regal if the expression on his face wasn’t something of constant anxiety.   He looked a little familiar, she thought for a moment, but then the feeling passed. 

“Minnie! I never told you, did I?! This is Donald! (Say hi, Donald).” The rumpled faerie lifted a wary hand to wave hello, before he was altogether interrupted by Daisy who leapt in front of him and started rambling away. “We met before, don’t you remember? Back when  ______”

And then strangely, Minnie couldn’t hear a thing. Mickey also tilted his head and then looked at her, rubbing up against Minnie’s shoulder as if to shift the ribbon around his ears. Then he lifted his head and seemed confused as ever, which is exactly how Minnie felt. Daisy’s bill was still moving (boy, was it), and no one else seemed at all shaken by the sudden lack of sound it produced.  “Daisy, I’m so sorry, but I can’t hear a word you’re saying,” Minnie said at last, with a shy little laugh. “Can you speak a little louder?”

Everyone looked at her strangely then, and she felt a bit embarrassed, but Daisy was so caught up in her story she didn’t seem to mind. “Huh? Oh, sure! AND THEN______”

Minnie caught the first part just fine but then once again, the words seemed to vanish into thin air. Morgana seemed to catch her look – and Mickey’s – and raised a hand to stop Daisy from moving on.  “That’s enough, Daisy, thank you,” she chuckled, even as the duck glared at her. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later, but-” she knelt beside the dog, which had begun to whine beside her, and lent it a scratch beneath its chin. It wagged its tail happily. Mickey seemed to shrink back and released a wary chitter, eyes locked on the creature, and Minnie cast him a worried look, distracted by his anxiety as Morgana spoke. “Dear Pluto here wouldn’t have brought you here for nothing, Donald, and I have the nagging feeling it has something to do with our own worries, too. Is there trouble at the Haven?”

“Trouble’s an understatement!” Donald burst out, though it took Minnie a few moments to decipher his words. “TheWellspringdriedupandtheSidheattackedandthepixieshavebeen capturedandtherestareallcaughtupwiththesirensan-!”

“Slower, please, Donald.”

“The Haven has fallen!”

The faeries all drew back at that, and even Daisy’s eyes widened with fear. Morgana ran a hand through her feathers.

Everyone stared at her expectantly then, and it was as if the whole world was holding its breath. Then Morgana closed her eyes and balled up her fists, as if she’d just decided something wholly unpleasant. “I thought it was close but…” She sighed heavily. “Mickey. Minnie. I need to speak with you.”

Mickey and Minnie exchanged glances. The others looked at one another – all but Donald who just seemed lost. “Who? The bird?” 

Mickey screeched, and Donald covered his ears, looking very much as though he was about to give him a piece of his mind for that. But then Clarice darted over and whispered something in his ear, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

 “Changeling?” Minnie heard him whisper back, and the next look he cast Mickey’s way was one of strange respect. She wondered at that, as they followed Morgana a short distance away from the others. Pluto padded close behind, Mickey tossing wary glances his way all the while.

“You seem oddly terrified of this little creature, Mickey,” Morgana commented when they’d stopped somewhere just out of earshot of the group. Minnie giggled a bit at that and prodded him playfully. She was a firm believer that a bit of humor could soften any situation, and she had a feeling the next conversation was going to be anything but easy.

“Oh, he just doesn’t know a good boy when he sees one,” she laughed, and Mickey might have been frustrated if he hadn’t been soothed by Minnie’s scratches around his neck. “And after this sweet, little pup saved us, too!”

The comment seemed to trouble Morgana, even as Minnie knelt down to plant some pats on Pluto’s head. Mickey was frustrated then, but only because her attention had been taken from him. He clicked his beak, and jumped to her head to keep his distance from the dog. 

“You’ve met before?”

“Oh, yes! Mortimer was after us, and little – Pluto, right? – well, Pluto here led them away from us.”

“Ah,” Morgana breathed a sigh of relief then, and Minnie assumed whatever she’d been afraid of had been negated by her explanation. “Yes, that…makes sense. One of his roles is to protect travelers from the Sidhe and their allies.” 

“See!” Minnie laughed again, and held up an arm as she stood so that Mickey could jump back on it. Once he did, she poked him on the beak, giggling at the indignant squawk that escaped him. “Not scary at all! He’s just an innocent little puppy, that’s all. Nothing like how you described.”

Pluto panted happily beside her, puffed up by her praises.  They had stopped beneath a particularly luminescent mushroom and his white fur, tinged with a golden hue shimmered in the glow of the forest. 

Morgana froze.

“How…how did he describe him?” 

A fog had settled around them, the best indicator they had that night had finally fallen, and its wisps threaded around Minnie’s ankles in a soothing stream of mist. Minnie was so preoccupied with how the colors danced in its wake, that she didn’t catch the apprehension in her words. Mickey had gone silent, watching Morgana with even wider eyes. He had caught the tone. 

“Oh, it was from so far away at the time…I’m sure that was it,” Minnie giggled. “Something about a…a wolf? Isn’t that what you said, Mickey?” She laughed again, thinking it altogether ridiculous.

“With black fur?”

When Minnie looked up at Morgana, she was staring back at her with an expression she didn’t like. All at once, Pluto had begun to slink back, and Minnie’s smile faltered. “Y-Well…yes…” she breathed, that grin still gracing her lips but ever fading. “How did you know?”

Morgana didn’t reply at first. Her eyes were locked on Mickey, and Minnie could have sworn she saw her hands begin to reach for her heart, like something had just pierced her soul. “ Oh, child… ” she breathed, looking broken in a way Minnie didn’t think was possible for someone like her. But then she shook her head and it was gone, all but the smallest trace of something like sorrow. "Well..." she finally answered, only after swallowing hard. “You said it was from so far away,” she chuckled, though any humor seemed far detached from the sound. “It only makes sense he would have seen something like a silhouette. Silly mistake is all.”

Mickey nestled up against Minnie’s neck and she felt a shudder pulse through him. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like laughing at all. A suffocating silence settled over all of them, and the breeze at her heels felt more like ice, even in spite of the ever-warming air. 

“What did you need to talk to us about?” she asked at last, desperate to be rid of the feeling. 

The silence persisted even then, as Morgana stared off into the distance. She seemed to be debating something, like whatever she’d been so sure of asking had been thrown into disarray. Finally, she swallowed and released a decisive breath. “What do you both know of the Great Dragons, Fand and Lir?”

Minnie bit her lip, thinking back to the old faerie stories she’d grown up with. She’d known Fand to be a ruler or…protector of sorts of the faeries. And Lir, of course, was a grand hero to the mortals. Or had been once. 

“Only a little bu-”

Before she’d finished, Mickey had perked up and screeched, then seemed to forget he was speaking Owl at all and kept going, ruffling his feathers when he got too worked up and batting his wings to clear the tension of his words. Only they weren’t words, and Minnie couldn’t understand a thing, no matter how many times he looked at her as if he was expecting some grand epiphone or reaction. 

“Mickey, I can’t…Mickey, please…Mickey…”

Morgana clapped twice abruptly, and Mickey stopped mid-sqawk, tilting his head to stare at her. 

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s met one of them before, not too long ago.”

Minnie gasped and looked at him, then frowned. “You met a dragon and didn’t tell me?”

He looked down at his talons, and released a pitiful chirp. 

“There wasn’t time,” Morgana translated. “It was back at the castle, from what he says…”

And then she explained everything he’d seen and been told. About the witch, Magica, and the origin of the Sidhe. The ancient heroes and the Dragons’ egg – and their promise, that two souls would rise to restore its magic when it had weakened. And as her story went on, Minnie began to recognize just what Morgana herself was trying to say, however impossible it seemed. 

“You think it’s us,” Minnie whispered at last. “Don’t you? You think we’re the ones meant to restore the Egg.” 

“I wasn’t certain at first,” Morgana answered thoughtfully. “Rest assured, the other sirens and I came to your rescue at Daisy’s request, and I knew nothing of your powers. But a mortal granted life and magic in Lir’s domain? And Mickey – never mind Fand’s own blessing – I’ve not seen magic like yours from even the most skilled of faeries.” 

He ruffled his feathers then, and lifted his head proudly. 

“But if that’s true…” Minnie fiddled with the fabric of her dress. “What do we do now? Why can’t the dragons help us? What does this have to do with the Haven? And why-?” She thought about asking about her conflicting memories, but it seemed pointless now. Whether they’d been enemies long ago or not, it was clear she and Mickey were meant to be here together. Nothing could convince her otherwise now, she was certain of it.

“The Dragons…are no more,” Morgana answered gravely. Mickey’s demeanor fell at her words, and Minnie stroked a feather. She realized then what he must have seen, and why he’d neglected to mention it to her so far. “Without their power, the Egg’s magic is fading faster than ever. When it runs out, Magica will be free… and the worlds will die.”

As if to prove a point, a rush of hot wind swept across the forest, and the glow of the foliage dimmed. Morgana drew in a sharp breath and pursed her lips. She seemed sad then, a flickering sense of regret in her eyes and in the words she spoke. “None of this was meant to happen this way. I knew the Dragons, and they’d always hoped to help each of you grow before lending you their last bit of power. Magica’s interference made that impossible, but fate drew you to them regardless.”

She looked straight at Minnie then, and softened her voice. “I saw what happened during our escape, princess. That wicked king removed magic for a time, and it interrupted the spell keeping you alive. I knew then what you had to be. Lir’s magic flows through you, the power of the sea and all the memories its waters hold.

“And you, Mickey,” she continued. “There’s a light in your heart that’s undeniable, like that of the sun and stars. Fand had a presence among faeries like no other, and I felt that the moment you arrived. She imparted a gift upon you, I’m sure of it.”

Mickey leapt off Minnie’s shoulder and screeched. Morgana opened her beak to explain, but Minnie didn’t need a translation to know what he was saying. She felt it too. 

“He wants to help,” she breathed. “People are in danger – my people and his …all of yours. If we were meant to do this, tell us how and we will.” 

Morgana breathed another deep sigh, and Minnie saw that broken expression return to her, watched as it encompassed her whole demeanor. “Child…don’t make the mistake of thinking this story’s already been written. You may see yourselves the heroes, but heroes can fall. Are you prepared to shoulder the cost of this fight?”

A quiet breath escaped Minnie’s lips, but she felt a passion like no other roaring in her heart. She’d made the mistake of running away from her fears once before, and her people had suffered for it. Now she had the chance to save them from their fate, to right her wrongs. Even her own life was hardly too high a price to pay for that.

A quick glance at Mickey revealed a similar resolve, and he shifted his wings behind him as one might adjust their shoulders to stand up tall. Then he beat them once and let out a screech, and Minnie watched as those speckles drifted off his feathers to surround him in a whirlwind of magic. Whatever apprehension she’d been feeling melted away as she came to realize what was happening. When the dust had settled, he stood in front of her again. Not as the wide-eyed creature all swathed in feathers. But as Mickey. Just Mickey. Her Mickey.

She rushed to him and he swept her up in his arms, laughing all the while. In the moment he gently helped her back to the earth, when the tips of her toes had brushed against the grass and his hand still held her strong at her back, he took a moment to nuzzle against her cheek. A gentle whisper tickled her fur.

“Y’really think we can do this, huh?”

“As long as I’m with you, I think we can do anything .”

#not the most EXCITING chapter maybe #but #we're catching up #oh dear we're catching up #when I feel confident enough to make a chapter title that hinges on the next chapter having a corresponding title #you know we must be moving along lol #let's hope my brain doesn't deceive me #but if chapter 20 has to be a bit longer to compensate #so be it #StoriesComeAlive #myth and magic #myth & magic #my writing #mickey and minnie #mickey x minnie #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #fanfic #fanfiction

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 17: Echoes

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: The mice find themselves in Tir na Nog through no choice of their own. As new perspectives are uncovered and new magic explored, new tensions start to flare as well.

Links:

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Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

She was furious, more than he’d ever known her to be. He could feel it before he even entered the palace, its rotting wood and withered leaves darker than they’d been when he’d left. There was an aura of darkness that surrounded the ballroom, and an overwhelming pressure as if some great power was about to snap. 

He tread lightly, but proudly, his head held high as he strolled towards the throne room, knowing full well who’d be waiting for him there. He’d had about enough of that witch and her temper, and all those promises that never seemed to be fulfilled. Perhaps he’d finally tell her off this time, finally demand she keep her promise…

The doors swung open at his touch, and he found more than one figure standing before him.  Magica was there in the shadowy form she so often donned, and the wicked look on her face smothered all his courage. Beside her, two Sidhe held a sopping wet Mortimer who spat and cursed at them to no avail. Oswald would have laughed at that, under normal circumstances, but he had a nagging feeling that now was not the time.

Magica grinned through the shadow of her wispy facade, a horrible smile that worsened the silent fury blazing behind her eyes. But Oswald pretended he didn’t notice, only approached as usual and cast an unimpressed glance at the half-drowned rat before him, before looking back to her. 

The witch laughed and looked sharply at Mortimer. “Look who’s arrived! Care to tell him about your recent endeavor?”  

Mortimer scowled, and Oswald nearly chuckled, realizing Magica’s rage was fully directed in the mortal king’s direction. He’d done something incredibly stupid, no doubt, which really came as no surprise. The only thing that was surprising was how long it took Magica to notice his ineptitude. Oh well, better late than never.

“What happened?” This was petty, and Oswald knew it, but he couldn’t resist. “Go for a swim?”

The loathing in Mortimer’s eyes was incomparable, and hilarious, as the rat grumbled some words Oswald couldn’t understand.

“Our precious king here,” Magica seethed, still through that horrifying grin, “let our princess get away again. Not once, but twice. ”

Mortimer wrenched his wrists away from the Sidhe. “I would’ve had them,” he spat in Magica’s direction. “If your little monsters hadn’t gotten in my way!”

At once, the shadow encompassing Magica’s form flared and dispersed into a lofty stormcloud of smoke, looming over Mortimer who cowered almost immediately. “You WASTED the most powerful spell I’d granted you for sheer PRIDE!” She screeched, her voice like no creature Oswald had ever heard. “That gem in that crown held ONE spell,” The cloud was sporadic, shifting and flashing madly. “ONE! And you used it to defy ME.”

It finally settled back into her form as she composed herself, though the storm remained flashing within. “And now my best Sidhe has vanished.” Her voice had grown darker, more deadly. “But still you claim ignorance.” With a final furious whirl, she whipped around to face him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t strip you of every ounce of power here and now.”

Mortimer turned a ghostly white and swallowed. “You need me.”

She laughed again, and the sound sent chills up Oswald’s spine. “I hardly need two of you.”

Oswald drew in a sharp breath as Magica approached him, her misty hand tracing his chin as he stared straight ahead. The feeling was ice cold, like death itself had just touched him. “I’ve got a loyal soldier right here. Isn’t that right?”

He didn’t like this one bit, not at all. But he nodded stiffly, though his fur rose on end. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.” 

“That’s what I th-”

“TH-THE FAERIE PRINCE IS ALIVE!” Mortimer burst out at once, and all the strength left Oswald’s bones. Magica was still just beside him, but she froze, and slowly turned her head. 

“What…did you…say…”

Mortimer stared at Oswald, a subtle smirk lighting his face as the rabbit’s eyes widened. He shook his head faintly, and his nose twitched. How did Mortimer know? The glamour over Mickey should have been foolproof–Oswald’s own magic (well, borrowed magic) kept it alive, kept the mouse hidden and unrecognizable from everyone , even other fae. Unless..?  His fingertips brushed against the orb in his cloak, and he reached out with his mind, tried to sense the magic he’d been lending. But he couldn’t. It was gone, as if something had severed the connection. Shoot! He’d gotten complacent, lazy even, and he’d missed that somehow. It meant only one thing–that Mickey was out there, wings and all clear as day. There was no arguing this, or hiding him further if Mortimer continued. Magica would know. She always knew.  Don’t ! Oswald commanded silently, with nothing but a desperate glare shot Mortimer’s way. But there was no stopping him now. If there was one thing you couldn’t do with that rat, it was trust him. This would serve him quite well, so he was bound to take advantage of it. Oswald’s foot thumped tapped lightly against the earth, a nervous habit he’d never really been able to break.

“That’s right,” he continued, the smirk on his face widening. It was nice enough that this little tidbit might be enough to save his life, but that it would ruin Oswald’s standing with the queen? Even better. “The other prince. The one Oswald swore he got rid of? He’s not gone at all. Remember that little mouse who’s been running around with the princess? Saw it myself. Sprouted wings right in front of me. Big ones. Royal ones. Didn’t seem to understand it either…which means someone else had cast a glamour on him. Take a guess who that was.”

Magica’s eyes had fallen back to Oswald, and they were blazing furiously, even more than they had when she’d first accused Mortimer. He took a step back and swallowed. The smell of rotting wood flooded his nostrils, as if the tree itself was bent on reminding him who was responsible for all this. But it wasn’t him, he argued furiously in his mind. It wasn’t his fault. Even so, his eyes fell to the throne where this had started. Really started. And he saw himself there below it, looking up at a king who refused to listen. 

“Mac Lir’s kelpies…they took her! You have to help, please!”

“Nonsense m’boy,” The royal had taken another sip of wine. “There are no tragedies here.”

“You’re wrong!” Oswald had hissed, and he’d balled up his fists and broken free from the grip of the guards. “You’re wrong, and mother would have known better.”

And the king’s eyes, all clouded with falsities, had cleared for a moment. Just a moment. And Oswald took it to plead his case.

“You told me once, it was the dragons’ fault she’s gone. That they’d tricked you. Please… please don’t let them take ‘Tensie from me too. You can stop this. Make them give her back to me! Just talk to them, there has to be a reason they’re doing this!”  

There were legends that a dragon’s magic could blur the lines between life and death, guide lost souls back to the waking world. If they hurried, there might still be time to convince them. He could save her. He could bring her back. 

The king was silent. For the first time in ages, there was no lofty smile upon his lips. It looked as though he might have responded thoughtfully, if he’d had even a moment more of clarity. But then the cloudy look in his eyes returned, and he chuckled loudly. “The dragons have long since been banished, and they can do us no harm. Forget about your silly mortal, child! Eat, drink, and be merry as the rest of us are!”

Something had snapped in Oswald then. There’d been a fiery thread of goodness in him that had outlasted that of his peers, something kept alive by love, and by hope. It flickered out in that moment. Or quite nearly, at least, if there was even an ember of faith left there. In the dark chasm that remained, a seed of hatred and distrust took root. 

He’d stormed out of the throne room, feathers flying around him in a dark whirlwind. There were other ways of getting help. Deep threads of magic no one had dared touch in centuries. If his own father wouldn’t listen, he’d find his own way of doing things. He blinked, and found himself back in the present, Magica’s venomous glare closer than it had been before. 

“We had a deal… ” she hissed, a quivering whisper that thrummed against his ears.

How could he have known back then, what she would have demanded of him?  He had no qualms with standing up to those dragons, and his magic had been a sacrifice he was willing to make. But that the little child he’d protected for so long would be the one he’d be asked to dispose of? Of course he hadn’t. He couldn’t. His rage had blinded him but even then, his love for his brother was something he hadn’t been able to overcome. So he’d found a way around it. Erased him from existence as much as anyone would ever know and, so he’d thought, simply given him a new lease on life.

Stupid. He’d been stupid. Ignorant and selfish, as much as his father had been. And he wondered now, if he was beginning to understand how one could fall so deep without ever being the wiser.

Magica’s smoke slithered around him. “I should have known you’d lied.”

Abruptly, the mist swept through him and he drew in a sharp breath, shuddering as the intense chill encompassed his body. Those glowing eyes narrowed, and then she darted to Mortimer and gave him the same icy stare. By the time she’d come center, both of them were shivering breathlessly, faces pale with fear. 

“You’re both useless, ” she spat. “An idiot and a traitor, that’s all I have to work with.” Her gaze swiveled back to Oswald. “You can forget about your precious sweetheart. Let her rot in Dubnos, for all I care.”

The fear turned to anger and Oswald rushed forward, pulling a sword from its sheath and slashing it through the apparition. It didn’t hurt her–he knew it wouldn’t–but he was filled with a fury beyond all reason and as the mist separated and reformed, Magica’s eyes blazing with shock and indignance, he stood there poised to fight her with whatever he had.

“I did plenty to earn her back!” he growled through bared teeth.  “I’ve done everything you’ve asked for for nearly a decade!”

“NOT. EVERYTHING.” Magica approached him again in a flurry of mist and shadow. “ Everything hinges on the fate of those two little mice. The egg’s power is almost gone but for as long as they’re alive, all that we’ve worked for is at risk!” 

“He’s my brother, ” Oswald hissed. “He doesn’t even know what he is. He’s no threat.”

“HA!” Magica laughed, and Oswald clenched his fists. “You have no idea who and what I’ve sacrificed to get here. It’s the price you pay for power, dear. You should have known that from the start.”

“I never wanted power-!”

“You wanted your lover back! Guess what that takes?” 

Oswald swallowed and looked away.  

Magica’s demeanor softened, not in any semblance of comfort or kindness. But that air of manipulation, of selfish ambition, flooded back into her countenance.  

“Ah, poor dear…Didn’t quite understand what the price would be, did you? Well…” He shuddered as she slithered around him again, her whispered promises like frost on his ears. “I might be persuaded to give you another chance…unless, of course, you’ve given up on rescuing your little sweetheart…”

A thread of mist snaked around his forehead and without any warning, he found a jumble of memories flooding back into his mind. Memories that had become faded enough to dull the pain of loss, but now returned as strong as if they’d happened yesterday. How could he refuse a chance to bring back those moments, when he remembered every small touch, every glimmer of laughter as clear as day?

“No…” he half-choked through the pressure in his chest. “No, I…of course I haven’t…”

“Then tell me everything you’ve done, and all you know,” Magica whispered through a too-wide grin, and glanced back at Mortimer too, who no longer seemed quite so satisfied with his means of deflection. “Perhaps there’s time to salvage both your efforts yet.” 

~~~~

“Min…” 

Mickey wasn’t even looking at her when he uttered her name, a cracked sort of whimper. His hand hovered just an inch or so from his neck, like he’d been about to pull it free, but there was nothing there.  The look on his face was sheer pain at first, and when his eyes finally found her, her heart nearly broke. She knew then he’d seen it too. Or…or more than seen it, maybe, because he was panting for air like he’d been robbed of it just moments prior. 

“Oh…oh, Mickey…” She forgot her own guilt and rushed to check all over his chest and his back for those horrible wounds, and to hold his face in her hands when she found only traces of them. All those tiny scars she’d noticed before, scrawled across his skin and shimmering through his fur, they seemed clear as day now. Remnants of that awful net. 

Mickey hardly responded to her touch at first. He was still in a daze, still trying to pinpoint what exactly was reality. Was that…was that a memory? It was so strange, being able to recall himself in a time before that day where he’d woken up all alone. Stranger still, was that…he felt it all. Not just the wounds that sent tremors rippling through his body, but…but…

He heard Minnie’s voice, faintly piercing through the fog, and looked at her. Echoes of pain still shot through his nerves, but her touch made them all meaningless. And he remembered then, as he sunk into her hand, what he’d felt in that moment that must have been so long ago.

There was more sadness there than fear, at first. He’d been meaning to do something–he still couldn’t recall what. But it was important. Important to him at least. Something had happened and he just wanted to help. The sound of the river had filled his ears and he supposed he’d gotten careless, thinking about…about someone, because before he knew it his wings had brushed against something unnatural, seized up at their touch, and his whole body had been snapped into a net of sorts that burned him no matter which way he moved. 

He’d struggled as much as he could, but nothing had ever drained him of strength so swiftly as this. With some desperate squirming, he’d managed to pry open a bit of the net and shove his arm through, ripping through some of the rope. Some of it gave way and he thought he was free, but then his ankle had caught and thrown off his balance and in trying to catch himself, his left arm had shot through the now-dangling part of the net and got him more twisted than before.  Now his right wing kept him suspended, never having made it through the gap, and a fraying bit of iron-thread rope hung dangerously close to his neck. He hadn’t noticed that, either, and so tried one last time to free himself by thrashing wildly, desperately in the trap’s hold. That was a mistake. Some upper threads snapped so that what still lay connected to the tree acted as a sort of cinch, and pulled the net so tight around him that he let out one final gasp of pain and found he could no longer breathe. His chest was wrapped too tight and his throat was bound, slowly being pierced by that stray thread. Some small creatures–his mind was too hazy now to see them clearly–had tried to free him at some point, but to no avail. They seemed just as helpless to the rope’s venomous powers as he had been. 

His vision had started to slip and then he’d heard her, voice riddled with a heartache and desperation that made a sense of duty flood his bones all over again, even if he could do nothing with it. 

“Geal!” It sounded like she’d been crying. “Geal, please, I…I need you!”

He knew that name. How did he know that name? And why did he try to respond to it, almost instinctively, when it reached his ears? Of course, that hadn’t worked. No sound escaped him when he opened his mouth, save for a pained sort of wheezing. 

But it didn’t matter anyways, because then she was there. Minnie. Both the Mickey of the past and the Mickey of the present, consciousness strangely split between the two, marveled at her despite their pain. She entered through a gap in the brush, bathed in a patch of moonlight that shone through from above. His vision was blurred and his strength nearly gone, but still he lifted his head to see her. Even with her face all streaked by tears, she was lovely. Angelic, even.

He thought to apologize, as his vision started to fade, for not being able to do whatever it was he’d been trying to do, because he was certain now it had been for her. It had to be.

She gasped lightly at the sight of him and then pulled something from her side, a jeweled blade, and narrowed her eyes. He hung his head, unable to hold it up any longer. Thoughts themselves were quickly fading, but the essence of them remained. He knew only he wasn’t afraid. Not of her nor of the dagger she held. His body shuddered. He felt cold metal pressed against his wing, and then a wonderful sense of relief as the ropes gave way.

Back on the riverbank, nuzzled against Minnie’s hand, he smiled inexplicably. Minnie seemed as worried as ever, and pressed in close.

“Mickey?”

He grinned and echoed her cradled hands with his own to her cheeks. His eyes shone brightly as they stared back at her, unphased by pain, invigorated by the revelation flowing through his mind. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant first memory to recover, and yet to him it was the most wonderful of all, because it meant one thing. 

“I knew you,” he whispered and let out an almost frenzied sort of laugh before leaping up, and half-twirling around the riverbank. His wings moved along with his excitement, carrying him a few inches off the grand in little flutters of joy. Fireflies, or some fae equivalent, fluttered about his heels.  “I…I knew ya, and I…I wasn’t scared or nothin’. And Min!” He made his way back to her and drew her to her feet, taking her hands in his fingers and giving them a flurry of playful little kisses while she stood there, trying to decide whether she should be giddy or overwhelmed. What resulted was something between the two, with a shaky sort of smile gracing her lips as she held his gaze. “Min, you saved me.” 

The smile faltered then. “Wh-what?” she breathed. “Oh, Mickey…I…that’s not what I…well…did I..?”  

Noticing her uncertainty, he let the excitement soften into something more gentle, and took her in close. Gosh, was she pretty, the way she looked up at him with those deep, curious eyes. He’d been so caught up in his own self-loathing that he’d nearly forgotten the feeling, like he wanted to laugh and cry all at once. But if he knew her all that time ago…if he’d cared about her even then, and if she’d saved his life so willingly, then her visions had to be wrong. At least, as far as he figured. Maybe he was wrong, but even the possibility of the former was all he needed to spark a bit of life back into his heart.

Though he didn’t know it, the light in his wings grew a bit brighter.

“Don’t ya see?” Mickey breathed, and he drew a hand across her cheek. Strangely, her whole countenance brightened, too, and she flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. “You cut me outta that net, Minnie. If y’cared enough to save me then, and if I…well, if I felt what I think I felt…then we can’t have been enemies.”

Her eyes widened a bit and then darted off to the side like she was thinking it through. “Oh, Mickey…do you think…but then how..?” She drew back and scanned his face, lips pursed in deep concentration. 

Though they’d seen the same thing, she’d not felt this memory in the same way he had. But … it was his memory, not hers, and whatever doubts she might have had over his words were utterly destroyed by the sheer joy painted across his whole face, undeniably honest and pure. It melted her heart, the way he looked at her now, even after his eyes had been flooded with pain only moments ago. 

I knew you.

That felt true to her, too, and right beyond all else. She’d been so scared of the future that she’d neglected her past, shutting it out for fear it might tarnish whatever possibilities they might have together. So scared he wouldn’t fit the puzzle in the way she’d hoped he might. Now she wondered if he really was the very piece she’d been looking for all along.  All that time spent alone in those icy depths, pining for someone to warm her heart back to life…he’d done that, hadn’t he? She’d been looking for familiarity and thought it lacking, but she felt it now, something deeper than she could have ever seen on the surface. This new spark in his eyes felt like home. It felt like hope.

I know you, too.

Minnie thought it, but didn’t say it out loud – still felt like that was something that should be saved for a moment when she could explain just how and why.

She became acutely aware of the bell in her pocket, somehow still there despite her change in dress. It prickled with a strange energy, and she thought back to the rabbit who’d given it to her. He had answers, or so he claimed. Falsehoods or otherwise, she felt at once that Mickey should know. 

Fumbling with the right words to say, Minnie parted her lips to try to explain what had happened in the time they’d been apart.  Then a branch snapped behind them, and both mice jumped, blushing a bit guiltily because each really had pressed quite close to the other. They parted now, relinquishing their touch just enough to seem decent, though Mickey never truly let her go. He kept a hand to her all the while but made his way in front of her to face the noise and took a stance like he was ready to fight a giant should it emerge from the trees. 

It was not a giant, not by any means, and Minnie snorted, holding back a flurry of giggles as the figure in question emerged from the foliage. Mickey let out a sigh of relief, a breath he’d been holding, and smiled as he knelt to the ground.

“Max, buddy,” he chuckled softly at the little boy who stood yawning in front of them, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “What are ya doin’ awake, pal?”

“Caaaan’t…” he smacked his lips together and yawned. “Can’t…sleeeep…” 

The two mice exchanged an amused glance. These were the machinations of a curious child who didn’t want to sleep. Though neither of them could really blame him, because here they were at heaven-knew-what hour chatting away. Seemed like a poor example to send him back to bed in that regard. 

“New world, hm?” Minnie whispered, coming up beside Mickey. There was a playful, friendly lilt to her voice, and Max grinned as she spoke. “It’s terribly exciting, isn’t it? Just makes you want to stay up all night long I bet.”

Max’s eyes brightened and he nodded, those two little front teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Papa says we’re in a alter-rit dime-nention!” Minnie laughed softly at that and held out her hands for him to grab onto. 

“Well, here,” she giggled, taking him by the hand and guiding him to where they’d been sitting before. The willow hung above them and the child scrambled over its roots, slipping all over the moss and grass as he came to sit beside Minnie, his little feet dangling out over the river.  Mickey had followed them over and sat on his other side, making sure Max was tucked snuggly between the two of them. “Mickey can’t seem to sleep either…” Minnie continued, and a look of playful indignance crossed Mickey’s face. He flicked her gently with his tail, but she caught it with her own and left him blushing like a fool when she’d tangled them up together behind their backs. “...so I was just about to tell him a story.”

“Ohhh, were ya?” Mickey chuckled, a light little smirk across his face.  

“A story!” Max exclaimed. “What kinda story?”

“Yea, what kinda story, raindrop?”

“Well, a fairytale, o’course,” Minnie answered in a gentle hush of a whisper. “Now, do you boys want to hear it or..?”

Max was loudly hushing Mickey before she’d even finished the sentence, which only made it harder for the mouse to quiet his laughter. When Minnie shot him a glance, her lips turned up in a humorous grin, but stern nonetheless, he finally drew in a few breaths and shook his head. 

“‘Course! ‘Course…” he nodded, placing his hands in his lap, a too-serious look plastered across his face. His eyes still twinkled with humor. 

Minnie kept a wary eye on him, anyway.

“There was once upon a time, long ago…”

And Mickey was snickering all over again.

“All right, then,” Minnie huffed, raising an eyebrow as she glanced his way. Max mirrored the face she gave him. “Mickey, you tell the story.”

He stopped snickering, and the look he gave her made her realize at once that she’d made a mistake. “Gosh, me?” he smirked, and ruffled his feathers behind him. “Well, if I have to.”

“Now, hold on-!”

“ There was, once upon a time not-so long ago,” he began in a voice that echoed her own introduction, that smirk still hovering on his lips. “A beauuuuutiful princess. The most beautiful princess y’ever did saw. In fact, she was so pretty that everyone who saw her couldn’t help but look ‘er way. An’ her name was Min-”

Minnie jerked her tail, which jerked Mickey, who yelped and drew it back into his hands, rubbing it tenderly. “Hey!” 

Max groaned miserably and fell backwards into the grass. “Your stories are awful .”

“Mickey Mouse, I’m thrilled you’ve gotten your smile back, but if you can’t take this seriously then you can march yourself right back to camp!”

“I was here first! ”

Minnie wrinkled her nose and stared at him, and he did the same in playful mockery. But then the fierceness of her scowl won him over and he gave in, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “All right, fine!” he sulked. “How about we share? ”

She thought that over for a few moments, pursing her lips as she glared at him, wondering how he might plan to sabotage this (and really, there were a good many ways he could). Then Max threw up his hands and let out a puff of frustration. “I. want. a. story!’ 

Minnie sighed, and Mickey grinned. 

“All right…” she groaned. “You can start it out. But no shenanigans this time.”

Mickey rolled his eyes but nodded briskly. “If y’say so.” Then he cleared his throat.

“There was, once upon a time long ago, a really (really) pretty princess...” he started, and though Minnie watched him closely, she didn’t object. “...that lived in a…in a castle on a beautiful lake. Her name was…er…”

“ Sulis ,” Minnie finished for him, offering up a name from another story she'd once heard told. Mickey's eyes darted over to her. He’d calmed himself more now, and his tail had found hers again, so they wrapped around each other in a tiny thread of comfort. Max was starting to settle in for a listen, and had drawn himself up to sit so he could watch them weave their tale. Minnie hesitated, unsure if she wanted to continue with the words in her head. Mickey would know, of course, the half-truth to the tale, and even now he’d already set it up for her. With a breath, she carried on.

 “ ...and she was due to take the throne. Due to be wed to her true love, and become queen.” She saw Mickey’s eyes widen, and watched him carefully. He didn't know everything about her story. “ But on the day of the wedding, her love was lost, and she was cursed…cursed to forget his face and his name, and all she’d grown to love him for. And so for many years she waited, until one day she disappeared, and her kingdom fell to ruin.”

She swallowed and nodded Mickey’s way. Max was already growing drowsy again, leaning up against her and blinking with heavy eyelids. Not much longer, and he’d be asleep.

Mickey tapped his fingers against the grass for a second before moving on, voice quieter than before.. “ ...some…well, some people thought she was gone for good. But others said she’d been taken up by the faeries and turned into somethin’ new.”

Max was hardly paying any attention now, so Minnie whispered a humored question Mickey’s way. “Turned into what, exactly?”

He grinned at her, and that sly smile returned. “A…a…a fish, ” he decided at last, and snorted when she laughed. Max stirred, but only slightly. “ But she was the most beautiful fish in allllll the world.”

“Ah, here we go again.”

“And one day, a sad, ol’ fisherman set out t’catch her, on account of her beautiful scales and all.”

“Did he?” 

“Not even. Made a whole fool of himself and she had to turn back into a princess just so she could catch him instead. And when she’d rescued him and brought him back to shore…well…”

“...Well..?”

Max had finally fallen asleep, and Mickey drew a wing over him as he leaned against his arm. He tried not to move too much as he spoke. 

“Well, I…I dunno,” Mickey chuckled and his cheeks flushed pink. “Haven’t quite figured that out just yet.”

“If you could make up any ending, what would it be?”

Now Mickey was a deep shade of crimson and if Max hadn’t been tucked so comfortably underneath his wing, he would have squirmed nervously under Minnie’s softening gaze.

“I…I s’pose…I’d have the princess find her prince again.” He seemed a little sad when he said that, like he’d just admitted something to himself without realizing he was doing it. But then Minnie reached across to him and set her fingers to his hand.

“What if the fisherman was the prince?” she asked sweetly. “And he just doesn’t know it yet?”

Mickey’s lips parted to respond, but no sound escaped them at first. Then he stammered what he’d consider a pathetic sort of question. “I-is that what you think would happen?”

She scanned him again with those kind, searching eyes, and a soft smile lingering on her lips. Then she let out a delicate laugh, and rose to her feet. “Oh, I suppose only time would tell, either way.” And though Mickey wanted to press her further, he managed to keep from bursting out into a million little questions as he gathered Max back up into his arms and followed Minnie back to camp.

#I felt really good about writing this one #until I didn't lol #but maybe it's just the fatigue talking haha #I should be asleep #byeee #storiescomealive #myth and magic #myth & magic #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie