One On One- daz and lacuna;

[daz]

━━━━━━━━━ ｌａｒｋ ;;


________juniper's quick word breached the silence, unintentionally shattering the peaceful walls which had originally surrounded him and their dancing. he had been forcing himself to absorb into the moment, practically forgetting of the true nature behind what they were doing. they were acting against their parents' wishes, essentially putting their rules and their laws to shame. each step they took stamped on another one of maleficent's precious words, and each twirl vanquished more of cinderella's conditions. although lark had never actually witnessed a ball that june had partaken in, as cinderella commonly held her prestigious events indoors, he figured she must've waltzed with plenty of princes in her time. whether she'd liked to or not, it was considered a tradition. it was an unspoken truth that all princesses should accept the hand of any available prince during a ball, and the female in the matter normally didn't have an option. with his extensive knowledge of the uptight princes of the world, he figured she must've danced with some pretty nasty men. cinderella was likely a head advocate when it came to her daughter dancing with the "correct" sort of people, which meant rich princes of power, who were, of course, classified as goods. the queen's eyes would be tainted forevermore if she realized her child had willingly accepted lark's request to dance. then maleficent, bless her, she'd have a heart attack if she knew of this. she would be absolutely infuriated, and likely to throw a fit if she was made aware of their sin-worthy actions. but they were only dancing, so you wouldn't assume it would be such a "costly mistake". but from the backgrounds they each came from, yes, it just so happened to be exactly that.
________lark had been hoping to forget about the plentiful bad factors lingering behind their dancing, ruining the calmness which came from their spinning figures. he knew if he thought on it too much, he'd pull away. so, the moment juniper uttered "sir", he was sucked back into a merciless reality. the ease which would come from wrapping his hands around her throat, and the horrified expression sure to be on his mum's face had she been present. despite her being far off, somewhere in her broken castle, he couldn't help but feel as if she were constantly watching. she had sort of tricked him into thinking that, being a way of frightening him into never disobeying her. it practically made him want to run home right then, set on "turning himself in" so that she wouldn't have to question him about it later. she had poisoned his mind throughout his childhood without him even being aware, attempting to trick him into her ways. the only reason he wasn't a completely wretched individual was because of diaval, who had done all he could to help lark avoid pure evil. clearly, the old bird had done an awfully swell job. his servant's generosity, somehow knowing no bounds even after enduring the hell that was maleficent, was what gave him the ability to stay rooted to the ground. the dark fairy didn't intend on leaving juniper hanging, especially not now. they were enjoying themselves, and truthfully there wasn't an ounce of shame which should come from true happiness.
________it was unbelievably bizarre, that was for certain. only a few days ago, lark would've laughed in your face had you said "you'll end up dancing with this woman". from the very beginning he'd had it set in his mind that there wasn't a chance he would ever like juniper, no, not in the slightest. it was in his nature to dislike her, and it came much easier. he didn't have to think hard on it, his hatred came naturally. it spilled from his body like his own blood, easing out with little difficulty. but, low-and-behold, he'd found himself fighting off the negativity to allow positiveness instead. something had attracted him to this stupid summer palace, and kept him coming back for more each day. it was hilariously illogical, and completely and totally ridiculous of him. what made this a good plan? after coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't remaining there to kill juniper, nor was he there to deliver information back to his mother, he'd been at a loss. his own choices made no sense to him, which gave him a sense that he wasn't under control. he was in a position that made capture undoubtedly simple; juniper could divert his attention, and in a blink of an eye he'd be behind bars. there wouldn't be a thing he could do to prevent it, as he had fallen into the trap all on his own. what was it? what was rooting him here? it was an emotion he was incredibly unfamiliar with since he refused it every time it came along, but if he knew nothing else it was this, there was a trust being built between them. she didn't intend to have him put in a dungeon, and he was becoming less and less needful of her corpse in his hands. in fact, as he touched her and her tender frame, he had a much undesirable urge to protect her. at this point, he had begun to stop questioning his thoughts. none of them were logical anymore. the moment he had greeted juniper on that dirt path, destroying her carriage with thorny vines, was the moment he had ruined his life. or had he bettered it? he needed to stop asking questions, as leaving so many unanswered was awfully tiresome.
________sir. she had referred to him as sir, just as he'd referred to her as "her majesty". they were mere labels, stamped over their legitimate identifications and such. something about the way it sounded... it was painstakingly fake. it didn't feel as though it belonged to him, nor did it suit him. sure, he was a man. he was a prince, so under an extremely important title. another label which he had become less and less fond of was "evil". calling him sir, and evil, and prince... it was like shoving him into a singular box, and barricading the doors so he was unable to escape. he had to suit them, or else everything was to come crashing down around him. if you were to put away all the titles, strip him naked of everything sketched, he was only lark; and she was only june. but here in lies the problem: juniper didn't know that he was lark, she only knew him as sir. she saw him as a blank sheet of paper, with a few words scrawled here and there but otherwise empty. he was nameless, a prince, an evil being, a "sir", and that was that. she had given him practically every ounce of juniper there ever could be, so he knew her well. she was far more than a handful of labels to him, but he was still a bland slip of parchment to her. she had done everything to make the dark fairy feel welcome in her home, and what had he given her as a thank you? he'd shunned her, shouted at her, likely scared her a few times... he was utterly undeserving of her breathtaking generosity, and his worst nightmare was thinking he owed someone anything. he hadn't even had the nerve to give her a proper apology after scolding her earlier, for no good reason might he add, so there were several unspoken privileges he owed her. one of them included something which only his mother and diaval knew of, and that was it. unless you counted his father, but the brunette rarely recalled the old warlock even existed. if he did, for even a second, he would cringe and give his back a quick scratch. he did his best to forget, but it would inevitably return to haunt him.
________"june..." he began, trailing off hesitantly. was he actually going to go through with this? did he have the guts? well, yes, of course he did. that actually wasn't even a valid concern he ought to have, because he undoubtedly had the courage. he was someone who tended to murder on a daily basis, and if he didn't then he began to feel sickly. naturally he would have plenty of valor to back him up, the query now was whether he'd live to regret doing it. something about doing this was bound to tether him here for longer than he'd ever intended. maybe not forever, but for at least a month. a year? would this make roya and juniper and even jazz never wish to forget about him? it was giving a name to a face, turning him into less of a "sir" and more of a human being. he wished for them to fear him still, but that was maleficent talking. he would give anything to be a tad normal around the first few people to accept him as more than his mother's boy, and if nobody else deserved it than juniper did. if he could just look past his infuriating pride for all of two seconds, an entirely new door of possibilities could be opened to him.
________the dark fairy's chocolate gaze concentrated on the floor, which was awfully funny as the princess seemed to have settled her own at his shoulder. he gripped her hand a fair way's tighter, his other still preoccupied at her waist. "please, can i ask," he paused again, as if to draw out his words with purposeful suspense. but he wasn't meaning to, he was just hoping to make up his mind quicker than his words could spill. too late for that, as he'd already dived in before he could try and change his intentions. he met her eyes rather forcefully, burying himself in the endless pits of greenery she had so that he wouldn't wish to turn back. there was warmth in those longing irises of hers, and it was something he had missed out on for many years of endless and unknowing abuse, deprivation, and confusion, "if i'm to call you juniper, then you should know... you should know to call me lark. no more of that nameless nonsense, alright? my name is lark." his name, much like a prized possession resting on its golden pedestal, was at last revealed. she could do with it as she wished now, and she could easily swing it by her mother too. but there was that trust factor between them, sealing a nonverbal promise of eternal secrecy. his name wasn't going anywhere he didn't want it to, and that was the most astounding, valuable, and lovely sensation to have in his stony heart.

━━━━━━━━━ ｄｉａｖａｌ ;;


________diaval didn't move a muscle as roya chose to lean into him, her teeny body pressed into his human form. he gazed down at her thoughtfully, tilting his head in the nature of a bird, before hurrying to divert his attention elsewhere. he didn't wish to be caught staring, or else he was practically certain he'd be scolded. he had plenty of rules he had to follow, and one of those, most obviously, included being careful to understand his place in any and all scenarios. he was a servant, not anything regal or of remote importance. he had to be mindful of who he had come in contact with. whether she'd run from home or not, she was a king's child. this naturally asserted her into the position of "princess", which signified a far more valuable status than his own. his responsibility was to assist royalty, not gawk at them like they were of interest to him. it was better for him, if not simpler, to forget about forming a fascination in anyone. he was lark's, and was only present because of his master's peculiar fixation towards this palace and its inhabitants. it wasn't his place to do the same, and he'd done a fine job at doing exactly that these past few days, and had yet to slip up and transform in front of any of the others. but here he sat, swathed in shame, for he figured lark would be furious with him for revealing himself to roya. but jafar's daughter was to be trusted, not feared... so perhaps he could slip by with a teeny lecture concerning following his orders? oh, how he hoped. he at least had lark's gentleness going for him, as the dark prince was actually far from being cruel like his mother. maleficent would get snippy about the most insignificant errors, which made diaval naturally afraid to make a single one. luckily though, lark wasn't accustomed to punishing diaval like his mum had. no matter what happened, he doubted the younger boy would ever be as horrific as maleficent.
________these jumbled concerns led to the servant knowingly looking away from the two people, allowing them to converse without any further interjection from him. they would be much better off anyway, and acting disinterested was smarter than allowing himself to butt in where he was typically unwanted. he instead chose to curl further into the blanket roya had given him, extremely grateful for the display of kindness. to anybody else it mustn't have been all that special, but for someone with his background it was rather symbolic. the gifting of anything was normally viewed that way between crows, especially due to their hoarding instinct. he was prone to being attracted to shiny things, and was delighted whenever offered anything as a sort of "gift". it was likely pretty silly, but it was just the way he was. nobody could tease him if they understood what he was born as. he was an animal who'd transitioned into an entirely new way of life, and not exactly a good one either, so certain quirks would be carried into his personality no matter what form he took.
________roux released a gentle laugh, running his fingers through his tussled, still awfully drenched curls. "jazz? so, as in, peter pan's boy jazz? oh, come off it," he teased, shaking his head knowingly, "there may be something wrong with the kid, but he's certainly not up to no good. i mean, isn't that sort of in his job description or something? to be good? his parents are dead, so somebody has to carry the legacy. but he seems alright, from when i've encountered him in the past. i seriously doubt there's anything to worry about," he remarked, but his voice was more gentle than scolding. in the time that he'd known roya, he'd caught onto several things which seemed to send her into a frenzy. among those things included patronizing her, especially on her opinions. she was a woman of intense independence, and he respected that. for someone who came from a background of royalty, it was a rarity. roux had lived his life in a poverty-stricken village, so speaking with someone of roya's status was seen as a high privilege. yet, he didn't think of it that way. she was an ordinary girl to him, with a lovely personality and a rather intriguing way of looking at the world. he liked her, and was fond of their friendship. even with his mother being so disagreeable, she couldn't prevent him from seeing her forever. he was nineteen years old, on the verge of young-adulthood, so she couldn't keep him under lock and key for much longer.
________diaval noted roya's body language as it altered dramatically, her entire demeanor seeming to slump and waver before her onlookers. he shot her a worried look, his stony eyes filled with lighthearted concern as she began to insult her father. now, he couldn't exactly disagree with her words. that would be lying, and he was certainly not that. but he hated seeing her beat herself up because of her father's awfulness, and how it seemed to rub her the wrong way with all she met. her father's unbearable behavior had not only given him a bad name, but roya herself. yet, of course, the greedy man must not have cared enough to do a thing about it. he was too busy pointlessly enslaving the innocent so he could earn more money, worried more about how many golden statues were being erected in his honor than his own daughter. diaval didn't have many memories about his own parents, as maleficent had rescued him when he was still awfully young, but he'd gotten to watch lark grow up. the wise bird understood, having dealt with it firsthand, what it meant to be a child mentally abused by your adult figure. he could only imagine the torment roya endured due to jafar's stupidity, and despite his curiosity, he knew it was certainly none of his business to know. those were questions that he wasn't supposed to ask, as he was much better as keeping his mouth closed unless instructed to do otherwise.
________"don't you remember our first conversation, roya?" roux questioned, an easy smile on his damp face as his hair continued to ooze water into his skin. "because i sure do. every word. so i feel like it's worth reminding you, the last person i had suspected your father to be was jafar. you're nothing like him, so there isn't a single thing you should worry about. you ran away from him, for God's sake. the resemblance isn't there. now you should work to forget about him, and to make yourself your own person. you're so much more than your father, just as "nameless" is better than his mother." at the mention of nameless, diaval's obsidian eyes flicked over to roux. his master was a rather sensitive topic to discuss, especially around those who didn't have a clue what they were talking about. but it was refreshing, hearing a good identifying lark as something more than evil. roya truly did have a proper judge of character, as the boy she'd begun to fall for was rather intelligent. he was a respectful man, and diaval foresaw many happy years between the two. romantically or not, they were meant to be around each other in some way or another.
________the bird man's brief opportunity to look at roux was immediately interrupted by a rather forceful hand slapping clumsily into his pale, scar-riddled face, causing him to yelp in surprise. had he still been in his raven form, he might've spread his wings and ruffled his feathers irritably. however, in this form, he felt himself wither into a ball of shame. he automatically tore his gaze from roux, reverting back to his original position where he wasn't focusing on the others and instead had found his bandaged wound far more interesting. he had been sitting forward, his elbows resting on either of his knees, the blanket resting on his drying back and roya leaning into his body, but he quickly shied further from the girl at her strike. it was unbelievable how quickly he could do that, easily evident how he'd trained himself into doing such. if he didn't, it would resort in many costly, painful punishments. diaval had to know what to do in situations where someone was displeased with his actions, or else face the dire consequences. maleficent had done a fine job at teaching him that much, which was rather sad. he had a spark of sarcastic wit to him, so if only he wasn't terrified to show it. it didn't seem to matter what lark did to try and reverse the damage maleficent did, as her actions were too permanent and both boys knew that well. he was a nervous mess half of the time due to her and her devilish lessons, fearing mistakes and the outcomes they'd have for him.
________diaval was stunned when he heard roya apologizing for striking him, finding her suddenly taking his head in between her two soft hands to inspect any damage she could've potentially done. he found himself staring at her, wide-eyed from astonishment. why did she feel it necessary to express regret for her actions against him? he furrowed his brow at her, overwhelmed with confusion and really just... awe-stricken. few would harm him, and then instantly turn themselves away from their decision to be sorry. she even had the audacity to run her fingers through his hair, which caused him to instantaneously emit a most adorable hum, which would've likely been replaced by gleeful clicking had he presently been a raven. it didn't matter who you were, so long as you weren't maleficent, it was the most amazing sensation to have another person stroke his head. call it a guilty pleasure, he wouldn't care. he enjoyed it, and lark did it from time-to-time to soothe him in times of great distress. strangers would call it disgusting, but it would only be because they didn't realize he was actually a bird and not a man.
________"really?" roux spoke, rather intrigued as he approached the makeshift bed. he settled down in front of it, focusing intently on diaval for a moment. "well, that explains the feathers. i didn't want to ask. i figured it would come across rude; i wasn't certain if you were obsessed with birds and were around them often, or something else..." he explained, which earned a rather bashful smile from diaval as he continued to lean into roya's easing touch. "i can turn into many things, sir, the possibilities are limitless. but i was born a crow. i belong to my mistress, maleficent," he spoke her name cautiously, as it was rather unfamiliar on his tongue, "as of recent, however, i have been in her son's possession."
________roux gave diaval a friendly pat on the leg, nodding his head with another one of his sincere grins. "that's brilliant. not the whole "belonging" to someone thing, but how you can turn into other creatures. it's like magic." when diaval released a short noise as a response, his eyes relaxing on his arm again, roux continued, "and don't be afraid to look at me, diaval, was it? i'm not anything special, so don't feel obligated to treat me as such." he was then looking to roya, giving her a flirtatious little wink, "ah, you know my mum couldn't keep me away. i could care less if she likes you. i like you, and that's what matters most. i wouldn't want to spend this rainy night with anyone else." at that, he was back to his feet. he allowed the blanket to fall from his shoulders, the cloth tumbling to the hardwood floor as he extended both of his arms to diaval and roya. "now, how's about we go fetch the others? i'd like to properly introduce myself. maybe eat something, too. haven't had the chance to do that this afternoon. if jazz is up to anything, there's no chance he'll get through me and bird man over here. you've got nothing to worry about, love," he spoke cheekily, truly not believing that someone like peter pan's son could ever be anything like jafar or maleficent. jasper wasn't evil, it made little sense. but roya, and soon-to-be-lark, were living proof that your parentage weren't to define your classification. anyone could be good or evil, and anyone could be something in-between... the world just had yet to find that out.
________diaval uneasily peered at roux's outstretched hand, before eventually caving and taking ahold of it. he had already found that he was growing a sense of security around the good village boy, as everything about him screamed sincerity. he wasn't someone who was out to harm his master, or him, and for that he was grateful. he lifted himself into a standing position, once again standing taller than roux, before finally making eye contact with the man. diaval kept his obsidian gaze pinned onto roux as he willed his body to transform, suddenly beginning to morph and alter before their very eyes. he shrank fast, bones occasionally releasing a dissatisfied crackling sound as his arms became wings and his nose and mouth became a beak. eventually, he had become a crow, perching quietly on roux's finger as he'd still been holding the boy's hand upon transfiguration. the servant cawed, the wound on his wing looking far better now that it was properly to-scale. he'd forgotten to explain to roya that it wasn't jazz's doing, but he doubted he would ever manage to convince her otherwise anyways.

[vixen;]

juniper

----------his talking, it was like a trance. strange how that happened. his speaking didn't break the peace, though it certainly broke the silence. june listened to him as it seemed like he was asking her a question. she dreaded what that question might be. june didn't interrupt him, she let him speak. he most everything about her, so asking her a question seemed ridiculous. she had told him a lot of unnecessary information. what would he even ask about, how would she answer that question? what was left to ask? how tall she was? how many kids she wanted to have? which that answer was two. maybe three. her open book type eliminated the need to ask questions, which did help, but also took away some of the conversation topics. but june spilled information easily. she hand out information like it was candy, you wanted to know something, you knew it. how june had gotten to be that way was a mystery, cinderella took extreme caution to insure that her information was safe, and little was known about june's father expect that he was the king of all of good.
----------june had no other family, no servant she was close to, no close pets. so maybe her being an open book was how she made friends. it worked, she had befriended the prince of evil, and was still alive. it was strange. she was so small compared to him, like a mouse to a cat. which that summed up how they were pretty well, he could kill her any time he liked. she could run, but wouldn't get far. the two were meant to be enemies, raised to hate each other. it was a stupid rule, to hate someone you didn't know based on their label, sad really. it was almost evil. which was ironic. june let out a short laugh. she bit her lip, looking up at lark, horrified
----------his name. lark. it was strange. one you wouldn't hear in a village, one you wouldn't here any where really. no. it wasn't strange, it was different, good different. it fit him well, all of him, from his horns to his always black shoes. lark. how well it fit him. he had just told her his name, something he considered so sacred, so special. and she had laughed. the thought of all this, dancing with him, with lark. how they were supposed to hate each other. the irony of it, that's what had caused her to laugh, not him. june bit her lip, her face turning bright red.
----------"no. no. i'm not laughing at you or your name. lark." she tried the name out. it was strange, different. "it's a handsome name. it fits you well. i promise i was not laughing at your name. i laughed because, this. this is so peaceful, so nice. and we're suppose to hate each other. but i don't hate you. you're an awkward friend. you're kind when you aren't murdering the royal guard. well, you're kind all the time, and you have a wonderful personality. and yes, you suit the loner look. i don't want to think about my parents. i just want this. i know that sounds strange. but this peace, i want it to last." she looked back at his shoulder, staring at it. "i'll stop talking now."
----------june stopped talking, she smiled at lark. the peace settled back, and now her hand on his shoulder seemed to radiate with warmth, his hand holding her as they waltzed felt right. balanced. was that the right word? balanced? that felt right. he was elegant, she was clumsy. night and day. good and evil. it balanced so nicely, june hated to admit it. not that she was clumsy. she knew that. but that he balanced her. it felt strange to think it. it felt almost disturbing to think that the young man who had killed innocent people was what balanced june out. "nameless," june paused, "lark. i know what your name means to you. i won't tell the others. jazz and roya. you'll have to tell them. it's your name after all." june finished talking, let her gaze drift back to his shoulder. it, of course, was much more interesting than anything else in the room. june bit her lip again, her emerald eyes looked at his, she felt herself blush. june's steps followed his, letting him lead. many princes pulled june after them, throwing her around as though she was a rag doll. june's clumsiness didn't help at all. and with a prince that was always taller than her and much more muscular than her small shape, waltzing was often her being dragged around while the prince rambled on about some pointless topic.
----------these dances did often end with june dizzy and her hand hurting from where the prince had held a tight grip throughout the long dance. june had left many princes with bruise on her hands. she hated that one that decided that one dance wasn't enough, her mother always insisted that june dance. in fact of all the second dances, june was never the one to answer. that was cinderella, juniper's mother would answer for her daughter, always a yes. the princes were like stupid, arrogant puppies. they waited for you to say yes with puppy eyes, showing off their hair or their smile. june tried many times to skip the dances, insisting that something was happening that required her attention. the excuses never work. not once, cinderella would never let her daughter skip a dance, never let her turn down an invitation to dance. cinderella would pull her daughter aside, whispering rapidly into her ear about how june was acting. that lecture usually went with tiny insults, threats about how june was the one to bring down cinderella's rule, or how june was acting like a immature child. the lectures left june feeling worse and sick more than anything. she would fake a smile, and go dance with whatever prince her mother had picked. being dipped and twirled around only made her headache worse for the princess, and listening to the high pitched voices of the princes made it all worse.
----------lark. lark was different, no talking about his kingdom, the mistakes his servant had made, or how he had shot an arrow. his name, that was all the conversation he had made. june was grateful that he hadn't begun to talk like an arrogant prince, but like a human being, and the way he treated her. it wasn't the best, he got mad about her not hating him, which confused june, but he hadn't killed her. and for that she was grateful.

roya

roya frowned as roux talked, insisting that jazz wasn't evil. roya looked down at diaval, still letting her fingers brush the top of her head. roya just sighed, she knew it was what is looked like. she was paranoid, jafar had passed that on to his daughter. years of her father's actions had been imprinted onto the young princess. if something posed a threat, it was a threat. roya tried to look past a person's label, wanting them to do the same for her. her label was harder to look past. jafar's daughter. that wasn't something you could get over. half the people roya had met expected her to steal their money while they weren't looking. roya had no interest in money, not like her father. her father's interest in wealth was more of an obsession, ruling ever aspect of his life, including the way he acted towards roya. sadly, the constant want to acquire more and more wealth had led her father to do insane things. he imprisoned people who lived on the streets for not paying taxes, he took away men and women who could pay their taxes, making them a servant to pay off their outrageous taxes. the kingdom was already poor, taxing its residents to the point where they ate clay to survive was awful and truly evil.
----------on many different occasions roya had stolen the money from her father, taking it to the village. she had sharpened her skills of stealing by doing that. she would buy apples or steal them, as the people who sold them had to keep prices so high that only royals could afford to buy them. it wasn't their fault, they had families and taxes to pay as well, their only way to keep their children from becoming servants was to sell high priced items. roya often bought the food, feeling awful if she stole it, and would give it away to anyone she saw. it didn't help as roya couldn't steal enough money without raising her father's suspicions. she had done that once, made the mistake of asking her father about lowering the taxes. he went into a frenzy, probably where roya got it from, yelling about how they needed money to survive, how if they didn't tax the village like they did the villages would rebel against them and they would lose the throne. they. he had always used they, never her or him. they. those lectures left roya with the sickest feeling. they. it would echo in her head, her and her father. forever and ever. it scared roya, turned her into a frightened child. but no child should be scared of their father.
----------"صه" roya snapped at roux in arabic. "hush. i mean hush, not صه, hush. labels. job description? roux, i'm suppose to be evil. i am suppose to tax the life out of everyone. i am suppose to be power hungry and evil. that's my job description." roya ignored the gentle tone of roux's voice, she frowned as she looked back at him. "sorry. i shouldn't have snapped." she muttered, blushing as roux brought up their first conversation. he remembered that? it was a meaningless conversation, nothing more than trying to figure out who the other person was. why did he remember that? "yes, roux i remember." she looked away as he mentioned her father. that was a topic that roya didn't enjoy discussing with anyone. she let out a huff of air, not exactly a sigh more of an annoyed burst of air. roya stood up, looking at roux's hand. she took a step back, still uncomfortable with being touched. roya nodded at roux as he talked about jazz not being able to get through him. her blush had only darkened as roux said he liked her. roya muttered in arabic again, turning towards the door, she had refused to take roux's hand, instead she opened the attic door. she puckered her lips again as she looked out the door. roya let out a shaky breath as she stepped out of the attic, her paranoia had only grown. nothing anyone could say would take that paranoia away. she'd be stuck with that awful trait, extreme paranoia. roya looked back at roux and diaval, never letting her gaze stray away from the stairway leading to the castle.
----------she felt certain that jazz was there, waiting for her at the bottom. she felt uneasy knowing she was out of the attic and he was somewhere in the castle. she had slapped him, he lacked a reaction. that's what had paranoid roya. people who don't react immediately to something like being slapped. if he had reacted, yelled at her, screamed, hit her back, she wouldn't be this paranoid. people who didn't react like that were often planning something. that's what scared roya. he was out there, he hadn't taken action against her, but she had slapped him. that was going to come back to haunt roya, she knew it.
----------roya looked back at roux one last time before taking a step down the stairway. "كنت تتصرف غبي" roya coached herself, muttering the phrase repeatedly. she hated leaving the attic, she stopped, looking back at the door. she tried convincing herself that this was going to end well. that jazz wasn't insane or evil. her foot slipped, roya squeaked, going back to the doorway of the attic. "no. no. i can't do that. i can't go down there. please. it's not just jazz. i don't want to go down there." she looked around, her eyes darting from place to place. her sudden expression of panic and fear came from being locked in the attic, she chose to stay there, unwilling to leave due to the fact that her father would fill her head with thoughts of her being trapped in the palace forever. roya bit the inside of her cheek. she looked back at the door. "انها ليست حقيقية" she murmured. roya ran her hand through her hair, tangling it even more. she looked back at roux. she walked over, taking his hand. "i can do this. i will do this." she dragged him out the door. she stopped, looking down at the stairs. "أستطيع أن أفعل ذلك" she walked down the stairs. roya let go of roux's hand. walking faster, she ended up jogging down the stairs.
----------minutes later she was standing in a castle hallway. she looked around her, trying to find somewhere to go. "this way." roya called, walking down the hallway. her footsteps echoed as she walked down the hallway, she turned, waiting for roux.

[daz]

━━━━━━━━━ ｌａｒｋ ;;


________it was odd, how lark felt. guilt-ridden after shouting at juniper earlier on, slightly trusting, calm, speechless... dozens of unfamiliar emotions, all compiled into a singular, rather dastardly mixture. this situation burned trouble into his icy soul. if he was to give his name, much like a monument of gold, out like it wasn't anything significant... then what good was he? why did he believe that he deserved the evil throne? if he expected to become the next maleficent, then he had to learn a thing or two about what was precious and what wasn't. himself, and himself alone, was to be the lone thing he was intent on looking after. ever since he stepped into juniper's life, he'd done exactly the opposite. he was likely dooming himself to a life in misery the more he communicated with this woman, and that was simply the honest truth. there wasn't any avoiding it, he knew it like a fact scrawled across parchment in permanent ink. irreversible. important. devastating, as he knew several of the words were now blotched over with his countless ungrateful errors. lark felt like a mistake all on his own, he didn't require the princess's help in that category. but this was only making matters worse, as she gradually was unmasking the beast he was and transforming him into a vulnerable flower. he was everything but that, or at least he wished to be. no, not even that. his mother wanted him to lead a far more vicious existence, he himself didn't want any part of his current lifestyle. this world of secrecy, fear, and murder. he'd fallen into his trend of doing things practically by force, or by mere accident if he swayed to not blame maleficent for his strife. after killing that innocent village boy in the confines of the good forest, he'd realized his mum would only be proud of him if he harmed others. in order to gain her approval, he'd sought out to do exactly that. no matter how much diaval protested, insisting that this wasn't the way, he'd already planted the seed. now at nineteen years old, there wasn't any taking it back. but he had found someone, actually a few someones, who were willing to look past those mistakes. they made him feel normal, and not like a monster hiding under their beds. he was undeserving of such kindness, nonetheless he was wordlessly grateful for it. maleficent had never shown such incredible generosity towards him, no matter how many villagers he slaughtered. but around juniper, he didn't have to pretend. he didn't have to kill others to gain her "thumbs up", all he needed was to be himself. leave her alone, and let her live... then they could get along just fine. why hadn't maleficent told him that bonding with others was this easy? because she didn't want him trusting a soul, and look at him now, he'd gone and had the nerve of disobeying her clear wishes. this was nothing but a road directly to his death, but he was already on it, so he might as well keep on walking it.
________lark swallowed shyly as juniper released a soft giggle, uncertain where it was originating from. although she was quick to reverse her actions, back-stepping several paces to reassure him she hadn't meant harm with her boisterous laughter. her words were gentle, bringing a foreign smile to his face. it was the sort that advertised his dimple, and his pearly white row of teeth. he was something more than a nameless villain, which signified something both terrifying and fascinating... there was no forgetting him anymore. if he were to try and vanish, never to return to her and her summer palace ever again, she wouldn't allow him to slip through her fingers as easily as before. now there was name to a face, and God was it strange. the last person to utter his name was diaval, and then his mum before the servant. nobody else had spoken it since, so hearing it emerge from juniper in such a knowing fashion felt odd.
________"much obliged..." he murmured, thankful that she wasn't intent on informing the others before he got to himself. "i'm likely to tell roya soon. very soon. with you knowing it, of course she deserves it too. it's just... such a new concept to me. i must ask that you treat my name as delicately as you might a precious jewel: carefully. conceal it. it is so precious to me, and with it in the wrong hands... i don't know what will become of me." he sighed, closing his sparkling brown eyes for a moment. "you make me do illogical things, juniper. you make me question my own mother, and she is the only person to ever tell me what to do. i fear she may kill me if she is to ever learn of this. of us, and our... acquaintanceship. i am afraid of few things, but one of them will always be her." he reopened his eyes, staring into juniper's. they were lovely, and you could easily get lost in them. he'd frozen up, halting his easy dancing so that he could simply marvel over the princess before him. how had he not noticed her beauty before now? likely because this was the closest they'd been in proximity to one another in a decent amount of time, if not ever, so this was an entirely new book to read into. go figure, he was reading far too quickly for his liking.
________"you're nothing like what she said, though. my mum, she told me that you only wanted to kill me. she said i should be concerned about you, and that you shouldn't be trusted. i don't understand why it is that you don't hate me for what i've done, but if i haven't said it yet... thanks. you're a puzzle worth solving, if that means anything to you." he smiled again, but this times his irises fell upon juniper's lips. soft, like everything else on her. tempting. his sadistic mannerisms were being flushed down the toilet the more he lingered, forcing himself to stay rooted to the floor rather than pushing himself away. lark hadn't exactly wanted to admit it, but he'd wanted nothing more than acceptance since he was a little boy. he hadn't gotten it from his mother, so he'd resorted to murder. he killed daily because he thought, maybe, just maybe, if he wracked up something more, and if the death toll thickened which each deadly swipe of his magic, then perhaps maleficent would love him at last. but now he'd found people who wanted to love him for something richer than the shedding of an innocent human's blood, and it was simply him. himself. nothing more, nothing less. only lark, the real lark at that, and he would be accepted. it should've been easy, had it not been for the screwed up thing he called his mind. or, better put, maleficent's mind, forcefully shoved into his head so he would become unknowingly subservient to her and her desires. maleficent didn't need a servant anymore, which was why she'd given diaval to him. why would she need diaval, when she had something better? lark. poor betrayed, lost, senseless, lark. now if only he could come to that conclusion now, and not in the near future, when it would be much too late.

━━━━━━━━━ ｒｏｕｘ ;;


________it had been a long, tiresome day for red riding hood's son. he'd awoken that morning with the feeling of loneliness, and a massive pang of guilt rode his chest throughout the rest of his evening. his mum had done an awfully swell job at chasing away his first genuine friend in quite a while, leaving him alone once more. roux led the life of someone who was practically homeless, without a kingdom to tend to or a royal status to withhold. he had no army of loyal servants around to deal his bidding, or a massive throne to sit on while the world basked in his wake. he was, quite simply, average. upon meeting jafar's daughter, a real life princess, he'd made an awfully fine point at informing her of that. she had marveled at him, and at how he hadn't immediately opted to summoning guards to snatch her. he'd instead spoken with her in utter fascination, intrigued by her and the way she led her life. he easily looked past her firsthand label, thinking nothing of it. he had never once, not in his entire life, been one to judge upon a beginning insinuation. what the world thought of someone was more than likely not to alter his opinion of them, and he was sure of that. nobody liked the villainous children, but they also never gave them much of a chance to be anything more than their parents. but there was more to them than what met the eye; now, if only the rest of the population in their fairy tale universe could see that too. then, perhaps he wouldn't have to deal with his mother's backlash and disagreeable attitude.
________roux had always been an attractive boy, that was for certain. he was modest enough to disagree, but most of the young women in his village had crushed on him at least once in his time housing there. his parents had been homeless for a while, up until his mum's grandmother passed away, leaving all of her belongings and home to her daughter. he'd lived there ever since he was a toddler, so realistically he had no memory of frightfully concealing himself in the dark of the forest. he had zero recollection of burying himself in his father's cloak, a mere baby, weeping hungrily but having no means of being fed. it was a tough life, which was something else he would refuse to speak about. for the sake of those around him, he wouldn't complain. he was perfectly happy with what he was given, whether it be the tiniest morsel of bread or not. and that was exactly what had been the thing to draw him to roya in the first place: her food. she had been a stranger at first glance, simply munching away at a loaf of bread. he hadn't a penny to spare for a meal himself, and he had already tried to hunt. no success, because for whatever reason the game had vanished much earlier than usual. spooked away, but by what? he wouldn't know, but either way, his stomach was desperate for sustenance. roux had approached roya in the hopes she would be kind enough to spare him anything, a simple crumb would've been everything to him, but she turned and offered him an entirely new loaf. she'd had two in her possession, and willingly given him the entire other one. he was so taken aback, losing his ability to speak for a few moments. he hadn't hesitated, however, gratefully taking the food that was bound to last him and his family for a month in the least. it was then that they'd begun to speak, and from that moment forward he'd harbored an obsession. an addiction? a problematic fascination? somehow, he was intoxicated by her wonder. she was beautiful, and so unlike her father. people had spoken about her resemblance to her dad before, and he'd heard from guards that her key feature was jafar's crooked grin. yet, when she smiled, he never saw it. there was nothing alike between the two, not even with their personalities. it was a wonder why she hadn't run away from him sooner, because jafar was made up of greed, and she was made up of generosity. opposites, yet somehow related by blood.
________when his mum had questioned him about where he'd gotten such a considerably "large" portion of food, roux had been forced to cough up the name of his new friend. he hadn't realized red riding hood would make such a massive deal out of it, but she had. she'd screamed at him for a straight hour, then proceeded to burn the rest of the bread he'd been given. she claimed it must've been poisoned, and if he dropped dead for consuming some it was his own fault. she was furious, of course, banning him from seeing her ever again. so, when roya returned the following day to speak with him, red had thrown her out of their village with the threat of calling the guards on her. roux's father had tried to soothe her, but in her frustration she couldn't be talked down. but, even with his mother being a massive embarrassment, there was something which kept roux clinging to roya. she was a real person, unlike the dozens of girls who were after him while he was home. it was flattering, but it was unrealistic. somehow, someway, he found himself making a stronger connection with an evil princess. a villager? in love with royalty? it sounded preposterous, no matter how many times he attempted to remind himself it was actually happening. he and roya were becoming good friends, and he couldn't wait to learn more about this mysterious girl who'd been forced to flee a life of "luxury", riches, and power. had he been granted such a life, he wouldn't have ever wanted to leave. but here roya was, having done everything she could to detach herself from jafar's name. although, he couldn't blame her for that aspect of her escape. she wanted to abandon the man who cared more for money than his own child, and that was awfully courageous of her. she was a brave, respectful woman, and he was fine with informing her of it.
________roux had never once befriended someone royal, let alone anybody evil. he'd been raised with the multiple horror stories which revolved around the villains and their chidren; he'd heard of the world renowned "maleficent's son", and how he would kill the innocent, only to then extract their bones from their bodies and fashion them into dreadfully sharpened daggers. he knew the boy was a prince of evil, and was known to murder on sight. he had also grown up with the jokes revolving around jafar, and how he tirelessly taxed his people till they were drowning in poverty. roux's village was heavily taxed too, but he knew it wasn't nearly as vile as the cruel jafar. he would up and snatch people from the safety of their homes, selling them off to earn more money. he'd always been warned to shy away from the forest at nightfall, or else risk being kidnapped and taken away forevermore. yet, even with that terrifying thought hanging over his head and taunting him, roux refused to leave roya's side. she wasn't anything like her father; she needed someone to speak with, and he had discovered her as a potential friend. he wanted to be there for her, somehow repay her for the small favors she'd offered him, and show her that not everyone in the good universe perceived her as an utter failure. she was everything but, and not to mention uniquely beautiful. perhaps she was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen, and surely at nineteen years of age that was rather impressive to admit?
________the young knight knew the consequences of his actions could potentially be severe, but he didn't care. something about the risks behind this whole situation was exciting, and he was being given the chance that some villagers could only dream of receiving. it wasn't everyday that someone with his background could have a servant bird perched on his finger, or have a princess beckoning him to follow her through a massive palace. most villagers were eventually turned into slaves to one of the many thrones, while roux was blessed with an opportunity to speak freely with a princess. he'd be a fool if he didn't take such a thing to his advantage, but he certainly wasn't sticking with roya for selfish reasons. he was fascinated by her, it wasn't that he only wanted to "inherit her riches" or anything like that. despite living in poverty all his life, his last concern was the money he carried in his measly coin sack. it dangled lifelessly at his hip, not a cent left to give. but he had himself, and his words, and that was all he required to befriend jafar's lovely daughter.
________roux was a bit nervous, but he wouldn't voice that. call him a capped bottle, where he disliked revealing to others his stresses or queries for fear of applying weight to their already severe problems. adding his own to the mix would've been dreadfully selfish, so he tended to keep closed. otherwise, he was a completely open book. he wore his heart on his sleeve, and tended to be a whimsical butterfly upon first introduction. although, if you rest a single harmful finger on those he loved, he was unafraid to take his sword and detach your head from your throat. but, he was rather antsy now. it was for different reasons than roya's, as the darling princess had been stressing herself over this boy "jazz". pan's son, or, he was. wendy and pan were both dead now, dying by an unknown force. the rumor was that it had been poison, but no one could pin the blame on anyone. most pointed their fingers at lark, or his mum, immediately assuming it must've been the dastardly work of a villainous creature. the terrible event only caused the verbal war between the two forests to worsen, which must've left a mourning jasper completely on his own. truth be told, roux felt a bit bad for the kid. he must've been through quite a struggle, and few had been around to remind him things would turn out alright. so what if he was a little... quirky? he'd always assumed that maleficent's son was something to fear, and roya had informed him he actually was an alright man. maybe this was a similar situation, where roya was making her mind up about jazz too quickly. what could the boy have done in his lifetime to cause such harsh suspicions? he was only jasper, and roux had interacted with him a few times in his past. a conversation here and there, a decent trade for money or food. jazz wasn't royalty either, so they'd bonded a bit over their tough lives. he was an okay guy, he'd just made a nasty assumption concerning roya's actions. she'd slapped him, and that should've finalized their silly little feud. but, according to roya, it was nowhere near finished. he knew it was useless trying to argue with her either, as with her independent mindset she would refuse his opinions. nonetheless, he'd still be informing her of how he felt. she was being ridiculous, whether she cared to admit it or not.
________"yes, you can do this. you're perfectly fine, love," he offered roya his gentle condolences, following her as she led the way to the others. this was where his nerves were stemming from, as this was yet another instance where he'd be introduced to royalty. gosh, he was on a roll! he had met a servant to a prince, was about to meet another prince, and another princess, and he'd befriended roya, a princess. roux was a penniless villager, this entire situation was like untold story for him. completely miraculous, and he knew it was an utter privilege to be given such an opportunity. but there was still nausea, as he knew the prince was evil. or, rather, deemed evil. it didn't mean he actually was, as roya wasn't. but they were... different. he was meant to be the physical representation of evil, exactly like his mother, and he'd only ever heard bad things about the petrifying man. he was a dark figure known to lurk about, spying on others so he may report back to maleficent herself. you were to watch your back because of him, or else risk losing your life to an awfully thorny death. he wasn't certain that meeting the guy, face-to-face, had been on his bucket list, but neither had meeting roya, and that had gone swell thus far. somewhat.
________roux followed closely behind roya, a bit overwhelmed by the palace and its massive, seemingly endless halls. he kept adjusting his clothes with one hand, his other preoccupied by diaval. the crow peacefully perched atop roux's extended fingertips, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. the trio had fallen silent, up until the bird began to caw rather discontentedly. the servant took flight, startling roux, who wasn't certain why the bird man had chosen to act as he did. his eyes followed diaval as the crow flew away from him and roya, instead going towards a rather large pillar. it was concealing a figure swathed in the shadows, who stood with its arm outstretched expectantly. roux immediately opted to grasp his sword, tugging it from its home in its sheath so that he could point it towards the stranger. "show yourself," he commanded sternly, not intent on taking no as an answer. although, the answer he received wasn't at all what he was expecting.
________"don't be so mean, pal. you'll frighten the bird," a rather innocent voice spoke, yet with an echo of deviousness deep in its core. the figure stepped from the shadows, in his hand a stack of pixie dust. its shimmery nature had attracted diaval's attention, causing his birdlike instincts to overwhelm him as he flew to the location of the glimmering substance. jazz. the boy's lips quirked as he lightly stroked diaval's head, earning a few pleasant clicks in response. "you may lower your weapon, o' courageous knight. i am nothing to be afraid of." he shot a glance towards roya, flashing a sincere grin. "princess." his words were laced with a secretive, slightly psychotic venom.
________roux lowered his sword a bit hesitantly, casting a worried glance towards roya, before returning his attention to diaval and jazz. "the bird is a man, jazz. he isn't spooked that easily." to which jazz responded with a simple chuckle, shaking his head. "i know, silly. i'm not an idiot. anyway, long time no see, buddy. been a while. you've changed! grown more into your cheekbones." jazz pointed at his own cheekbones, a slight grin on his dark face. "you suit them. but, might i ask? what's a pretty thing like you doing with roya?" he asked, before flicking his auburn gaze back towards diaval. the bird was peering at jasper curiously, up close and person, his head tilted and his obsidian pools of life baring into pan's son's features.

[vixen;]

juniper

----------lark. that was his name. he had just told her his name, something he seemed to value. why? why her. why the heir to the good throne, someone who was suppose to be his mortal enemy. this was all so strange. he had appeared as a close book. someone who passed through her life, nothing more. but now. he had a name. a name to go with a face. now he meant something. of course he had always meant something. though never the same thing. he was a threat at first, then an annoying acquaintance, next he was a dance partner. now. now what was he? a close friend? no. nothing of the sorts. he wasn't a close friend. he couldn't be. he could never be. it wasn't allowed. her mother would never allow this. not in a million years. it was impossible. improbable. never going to happen. impossible. beyond impossible. more than impossible. it was almost illegal. against the mental laws her mother had instilled in her. lark. maleficent's only son. the only possible heir to the throne. an enemy. a threat. an evil human being. evil. why? why was she allowing him to be free? why? why was the question. hopefully it was soon to be answered. information about himself, about lark was spilling from the boy's lips. she couldn't seem to process it all. for an average person, telling another that they were scared of something was maybe an everyday thing. normal. but this man who stood in front of her was anything but normal. she almost pitied him. pitied the future king of evil. irony is everywhere. this man had nothing to loose. kill her and he could carry on as though nothing happened. he had killed countless other people. innocent people. those people had been fathers, sons, mothers, daughters. the rumors or better put the stories of lark portrayed him as an evil being who had little to no guilt about anything. that couldn't be right. the man who stood before her was kind, he was even interesting, he balanced her... june's thoughts ended there. she had stopped dancing when he did. his eyes met hers for what seemed mere seconds. too brief. she wanted to see his eyes. it felt odd to have that thought bouncing around inside her head. but his eyes are as interesting as his personality. brown. chocolate brown. it almost matched his hair. almost, not quite.
----------he looked away from her, june felt the urge to reach up and turn his head back to face her, to look back at his eyes again. stare directly into them forever. but now, his eyes fell upon her face. she could place exactly where he was looking, and june expected to blush, to feel her face heat up. but she didn't, as though she was sleeping. she felt heavy. seconds later, june realized she was calm. calm, peaceful maybe. happy and calm. it was strange, when june was happy she was normally excited, energetic, almost never calm. what type of trance was this? she was calm, excited, nervous. a hurricane of emotions, not a single one able to take control.
----------"lark. your mother is maleficent. many people fear her. maybe you have a different fear of her. i can't promise you anything. but..." her eyes scanned his face, trying to find any trace of emotion. his smile. it was infectious. she felt herself return a smile. "but. i will try to protect you from whatever you fear. i'm definitely not you or your mother, or my mother for that matter. i will never try to trick you, harm you or hand you over to the guards. you aren't your mother. and i am not my mother. you don't have to worry about being caught here." june spoke slowly, the heaviness of the calm happy mix reached her words, making them come out as slower. she listened to lark as he spoke, he thanked her.
----------"you're nothing like my mother said you would be. not even like the servants thought. or i even like i thought you would be... i must admit. when i first saw you, i didn't immediately know who you were. it didn't take long to figure it out. i thought i'd be dead within two seconds. but i wasn't. now or then i was dancing with you. i don't know about you, but i enjoyed it. you're a good dancer. and you didn't talk my ear off." june looked away from him, she glanced at a pillar, nothing special about it. she held her gaze just long enough for her smile to fade. she looked back at him.
----------she stayed quiet. another strange thing for juniper. her eyes fell upon lark's. she wanted to look at him. and juniper did what could be consider the most stupid thing in all of her life. the princess reached up, her hand leaving lark's shoulder, gently coming to rest underneath the right side of his jaw. june moved his head, wanting to pull his eyes back to hers. she moved his head until he looked at her. june let her hand fall from his face, her hand now sat by his collarbone. june expected a blush to rush to her face, to make some poor excuse and then quickly walk out of the ballroom. but that didn't happen, june stayed where she was, her eyes looking into lark's.

roya

roya's footsteps echoed in the hallway, despite her small size roya was loud, her footsteps sounded more like an elephants' than the tiny mouse's that it should. roya was in a bit of a rush, her footsteps rang out. despite having run away from home three years ago at the age of fourteen, roya had never mastered the art of walking quietly. one would expect roya to almost walk on air, walk silently and be the living picture of stealth. much like juniper, she was quite the opposite of what was expected. roya managed to break every twig in her path, scare away any prey and frighten just about every single farm animal there was. animals had never took well to roya. she hated it, roya liked animals, they were innocent and loving. and adorable. everything roya wanted. but they never took to roya, even juniper's cat, etselle seemed to hate her. well, that cat seemed to hate even juniper. diaval had been the first animal to actually like her, but the crow was not just a crow, but a man. people didn't tend to like roya very much either. much of their hatred came from an inability to see past labels. which made roux special despite how much the man denied it. the first encounter had gone well, he hadn't summoned guards to drag roya away and she was grateful for that. though, the next encounter hadn't gone so well. red hadn't taken well to roya's appearance into roux's life. roya meant no harm, she had simply wanted to talk to roux, seemingly the only person who had been able to look past her label as a villain's child. it was no good, red went crazy, yelling threats at roya. roya had fled the village after that, leaving behind the only friend she had made. roya ran back to the summer palace, fleeing to the attic again.
----------roya froze at roux's reaction to diaval flying to a pillar. roya thought nothing of it. she continued walking, taking a few more steps before roux pulled out his sword, pointing it at a shadowed figured. roya took a step back, taking care to back away from the pillar. she stared at the figure, trying to discover who it was. she frowned as a voice came from the shadow. jazz... roya frowned as the boy stepped out of the shadow. his mention of roux's cheekbones was strange. roya glanced over at roux, noticing his cheekbones for what seemed to be the first time. he was striking, handsome. roya hated to admit it, but the more she looked at him, really looked, the more she began to see it. roux was handsome, there was no doubt about that. she glared at jazz as the boy called her princess. to be honest, princess was a step up from monster or thief. roya sighed, looking away from peter pan's son. roya watched the two. they had met before? of course, good kingdom. everyone knew everyone else. the drastic differences between the two kingdoms often confused roya. being raised in one and living in the other made adjusting much harder. the young girl stared at a wall. "hi jazz. always nice to see you." she snapped, wanting to stalk away. she stayed because of her newfound friend, not diaval, but roux. she worried that he would turn to jazz. and forget about her. it was an issue, abandonment issues, it didn't really fit with a runaway. sadly roya hated to be left, to be ignored and to be treated like a child. three things that enraged her. or more of devastated her. the loss of her mother at an early age, her father's obsession with wealth, and constantly being run out of villages and shouted at, didn't really help. having animals hate her wasn't pleasant either.
----------the young princess frowned at jazz. "pretty. he's not pretty. women are pretty, men are handsome. you think peter pan would have taught you something. and to answer your question, he's here on his own free will. i'm not a kidnapper. not a monster." roya looked back at roux. her smile was gone, now in its place was a frown. she looked back at jazz, then her eyes drifted to diaval. if she were to turn and walk away, she wasn't certain if anyone would come with her. diaval wasn't an option, he was entranced by whatever now held him attention, roux knew jazz, and they seemed to be friends... friends... roya had ranted about how jazz was nothing but evil. she had ranted on and on about how he was evil, and here she was claiming that she wasn't evil. she had acted like her father, the thought of it repeatedly coming to her. while someone people feared becoming nothing more than a farmer, roya feared becoming her father. it had been her motive for running away, the sole force driving her away from the palace. despite being left alone, having wealth being put before her, roya was happy at her home. until she began to wonder what would happen if she stayed, would she just become a puppet or would she become her own person. that was her motive. it didn't matter to roya that her father ignored her, she did well on her own, she got what she wanted. she lived the life of a princess. not entirely happy, but happy enough. why leave? she listened to the rumors, they were easy to listen to. to villagers, after she had run away, roya was nothing more than a figure wearing a cloak two sizes too big. the cloak helped cover her, concealing her identity and on colder nights it served as a blanket. the young woman had faced hard times, she remembered them well. like making a fish walk. at first roya had felt like a fish out of water, she no longer had a soft bed to sleep in, or a roof over her head. now, she had a large cloak that made an awful blanket. hot meals had turned into stale bread and soft apples. warm beds turned into a pile of wet leaves. but it had been worth it.
----------roya waited for one of the two to move, or for diaval to do anything. roya rolled her eyes. she turned, walking away from them. she walked the remainder of the hallway, deciding to let her new found friend become nothing more than a face she would one day vaguely remember. she walked around the corner, taking her time with making her way to the kitchen. she turned, looking back at the two men and one crow. roya let out a small defeated sigh. "roux. are you coming?" she meant for her question to come out as powerful and confident, but instead it came out as small almost meek. roya stood there at the end of the hall way. a wave of realization washed over her, standing at 5'5 and weighing around 110lbs, she must have looked as small as she felt. roya looked back down the hallway, focusing on a certain point. "if you are, it's this way." she walked down the hallway, once out of sight she stopped, waiting for the sound of footprints. she sighed, then continued to the dinning room. her hair fell in her face, she brushed it out of her eyes, continuing down the hallway. it was a long hallway, benches lined the hallway, one every five yards or so. roya walked along the hallway, she stared up at the windows, no light shined through the window, the sun had set. or from roya could tell it had. as roya had been staring up at the window, she had begun to drift to the left wall. a bench sat in roya's path. she hit her toe against the wooden leg of the bench, the princess yelped, pulling her foot away from the bench. she sat down on the bench, holding her shoe as she glared at her foot.

[daz]

━━━━━━━━━ ｌａｒｋ ;;


________lark was lost. he'd landed himself in a severe fix, and unfortunately there was a strong lack in simplistic solutions. it couldn't be described as a fork in the road either, no, it was far more than only that. it was an entire maze he'd created, with millions of potential paths that each led to an entirely different outcome. some were good, and obviously, some were bad. the choice was ultimately his own to make, since he was the one who'd entrapped himself. he couldn't place the blame on anyone else, not even maleficent. he could pin things on her most of the time, like with his senseless urge to kill those who didn't deserve it, but with this he'd gone against everything she intensely desired. she had wanted her son to be another her, to become an exact copy, but after a while attempting to repress what truly had been residing within his cavernous mind had become too tiresome. his facade had failed him, and he was making matters more severe the longer he lingered with the good princess herself. he couldn't decide whether she was changing him beneficially, or if she was going to be the worst thing to have ever happened to him. his head was too mixed up to weigh the pros and cons between the options, and which of them he'd prefer over the other. he was so used to his mum pulling the strings, that when it came to pulling his own... he was like a clueless child learning his alphabet for the first time. it wasn't fair that he was here, and that he was dancing with the woman he was born to hate, and that they were having a sensible conversation about matters he hadn't discussed properly in years. it was about trust, and how she was worthy of it. he'd already coughed up his name, which undoubtedly was his most significant feature, and he'd mentioned a handful of quirks about himself a bit earlier. where were these bursts of confidence even emerging from, because it didn't make sense to say himself. the dark fairy hadn't had that sort of thing in him, not once in his entire life, and now it was suddenly deciding to make an appearance for the princess to witness? he was right, this was a maze, and thus far he'd discovered it was infinite. no way out, and he only kept plunging deeper.
________lark faltered when juniper began to speak again, clouding the silence with her soothing words. he was ashamed of himself, but he couldn't help it... listening to her talk was becoming a guilty pleasure. she had all the right things to say, even without the solutions to his current problems. she was at least attempting to offer her assistance, and that was more than anyone else had done for him. asides from diaval, but that situation was different. his bird was a servant, and they'd been forcefully clinging to each other ever since lark was informed diaval could transform into a man. but this... thing with june? he hadn't earned it, he was likely the most undeserving, but it didn't look as though either of them cared. they were enjoying themselves, and what their parents would say against it wasn't to deter their decisions. they were allowed to make their own paths in life, contrary to popular belief, and if they had the desire to shed their original labels? well, so be it! they should've been allowed to, without question, but unfortunately in their world things were far more complicated than that. changing titles was more than erasing a word on a slip of parchment, then replacing it with another. with their laws, and their parents, and their separate forests and kingdoms... them together was more like two opposite universes colliding for the first time in centuries, but not in a bad way. they were sketching their own paths the longer they stayed together, and the outcome could only be an impending disaster. lark didn't want to believe that, but he knew it to be the truth. "fate" hadn't introduced them to each other, he had. he'd made the choice to clamber down from the safety of his trees, to fill her carriage with thorns, to turn her guards to stone statues, and he was presently choosing to hold her close, as if his life depended on it. she was the only person to see what he'd needed for so long, and that was an ear willing to listen before its mouth judged. who would've guessed the woman to fill that gap would be the princess of good, cinderella's daughter in the flesh?
________"you truly are the good princess, aren't you?" the dark fairy murmured, innocently cocking his head to the side. the two of them hadn't moved an inch since he'd stopped them, seeming to revel in their moment of downtime. juniper herself was preoccupied with searching his face, as if it were a scavenger hunt, but for what he couldn't tell. a shadow of doubt? an indication that he was trying to deceive her, and was plotting to kill her the moment he could catch her off guard? the old lark, the one who was sour at the world without a valid reason, would've likely done exactly that. without a shadow of a doubt, he would've taken advantage of june's kindness, and brought her down with it. there were countless options available, because he was the second most powerful fairy in all the land. nothing was preventing him from swapping his position on the gigantic chess board of life; no guards stood in his way, the princess herself was practically pressed up against his body, leaving little leeway to breathe. he was internally gasping, desperate to be relieved. by what, he couldn't yet tell. although, it was becoming more clear as they continued to stand before one another. wordless, but somehow still saying much.
________a small laugh escaped his pursed lips as juniper spoke of his suspicions, indicating that he'd made a correct assumption earlier on. plenty of princes had been blessed with the honor of dancing with cinderella's only daughter, but few had left an impression worth remembering. among everyone who could've pleased her, how had it been lark? certainly, he had the grace required to knock a woman off their feet, but the charm tended to be long forgotten because his pastime included murder. it would turn anyone off from him in an instant, and had successfully done so for what felt like an eternity. he couldn't recall the last person who'd been this patient with him, enough to tolerate the monster that he couldn't bury. he wondered how juniper managed, and why she bothered. getting rid of lark would be simple, she'd only have to summon her guards to either chase him away, or capture him. either would eliminate him from her life forevermore, since he wouldn't prefer to spend time with someone who desperately wished he'd be gone. she'd had plenty of opportunities to do exactly that, but hadn't taken them. she allowed him to remain, with the promise of protection and the reassurance that his secrets would be bound tightly in her soul. he'd missed out on knowing what it meant to have true friends, since he avoided them more often than not. but ever since he'd crossed the door into the summer palace, he'd transformed into a completely unrecognizable person. if he caught sight of his reflection, he looked the same. black, tight clothes, callous smirk, massive horns, pointy ears... the usual things, so nothing physical had altered in the slightest. but the thing which made him such a fright had, and the result of it was this.
________juniper's hand was on his cheek, connecting their gazes in an instant. he'd been trying his hardest to avoid peering into her gorgeous eyes, the color they held vaguely reminding him of the forest; it was his comfort home, and finding it inside a person was surreal. but he wasn't mistaken, for this was no mere illusion. he found safety, and suddenly the maze he'd been lost in was more of a safe haven. a lovely trance he didn't wish to fall from, instead his prayer being that he could stay for just a bit longer. he hardly noticed when her fingers fell away from him, instead lying to rest at his collarbone as they simply... stared at each other. they were at peace, and there was warmth where he'd never foreseen it emerging. he didn't feel as though he needed to blush, nor were there any sprinkles of butterflies dancing in his abdomen, but that didn't matter. didn't that only happen in fairy tales anyway? lark rested peacefully there, before maneuvering his own hand so that it plunged into the bountiful blonde curls she was adorned with. he found the nape of her neck buried under them, using this to tilt her head upward just a tad. it was enough for him to truly see her, and admire her, and understand the woman that he'd accidentally befriended. the dark fairy could've easily fallen asleep in that position, tumbling down some sort of rabbit hole for eternity but never having a reason to awaken. in fact, it got a point where he could've sworn he was floating, and he was granted the ability to fly without a need for wings or even pixie dust to aid him. he simply required juniper, the princess, to stabilize him. his thoughts were elsewhere, in a foreign realm perhaps, but his body remained connected to june's. in fact, without him noticing, his lips began to seek out that very same connection... with her own.

━━━━━━━━━ ｊａｚｚ ;;


________ah, what a pity it was. what a pity that people were unbelievably daft, somehow more so than he could've ever predicted, and what a pity that they couldn't see it themselves. what a pity that somebody had to remind them, every once in a while, where they stood in this perfectly unbalanced society. even sadder how the only person around who could see this issue was jasper, while the remainder of the population kept being oblivious. their vision was clouded over by a magnificent shadow, preventing them from comprehending the things he could. they traipsed about without a care in the world, acting as if they had the authority to claim their own destinies and carve their own paths. ridiculous, wasn't it? they all were the unintelligent ones, the mad ones, the ones who couldn't get the truth to sit tight in their noggins. it wasn't jazz, certainly not, because he was only helping them see the light they'd lost. they grew this sort of "tunnel vision", where they'd focus on petty things and forget the truth. ordinary people resembled suckling infants to him, while he saw himself as more of a god. he controlled them all as his play pieces, his array of pawns, and they continued as if nothing was the matter. how could they not see the gigantic game board he'd set up for them? this case of blindness was worse than he'd originally suspected, confirming to him this job he was doing was to be for the good of their futures.
________from a tender age, jazz was told he was special. peter pan was his father, a man who preferred to live as a boy, who cared for his son with every fiber in his being. he had been a kind person, with an equally kind heart. he and his wife, wendy darling, blended with a most momentous grace. they were some of the happiest in the good forest, and despite not being royalty, all who knew them respected them. they were glorified individuals who could see beauty in even the ugliest soul, and light in the blackest heart. they helped young, orphaned boys by offering them a place to stay with them. they'd been dubbed the "lost boys of neverland", and went on countless adventures through the forests wearing costumes and playing games. they were normal children, and they did normal children things. but jasper had never been interested in playing with the lost boys, instead keeping to himself for the majority of his time. his parents concluded he was an introvert, and that was final. he curled up in bed, read books till he tired of that, and then instead would curl up in bed to simply... think. he thought a lot, and perhaps too much, but had nobody to express his discoveries to. he became a bottle with the cap screwed on far too tightly, and this trap was inescapable since it was created by his own mind. his mother would take him in her arms, and speak with him with a voice he could still describe as "a cheerful hum, intended to lull him to sleep". they were such a happy family, and to most others the possibility that anything could ever break them apart was laughably impossible. life was alright, until jasper killed his parents.
________it sprang from nowhere, the thought of it causing him to bolt upright in the middle of a particularly stormy night. where it originated from he hadn't been certain, but he also didn't wait to question it. he let his mind choose its course, and his legs were simply there to help carry out the bidding. a wicked smile had played on his innocent, childish features, and his heart had thrummed excitedly. he could toy with life and death, he could do whatever he wanted, and nothing could keep him locked up in a box anymore. for whatever reason, he got into his youthful brain that the only way to "free himself" from this imaginative prison, was to kill his own parents. it became a quest, a fun thing to do under the unknowing noses of his family. he turned it into a twisted game that only he was involved in, because so long as he was the only one involved... there wasn't a chance he could lose. jazz convinced his father to let him go out, and peter had willingly set him free with a bag of pixie dust and a proud pat on the back. he was thrilled to see his son was finally stretching his legs, and he wasn't staying cooped up within the confines of his room anymore. he just failed to realize what jasper was up to, the young lad skipping along his merry way... straight into a witch's hut. there were dozens of them scattered throughout the two forests, since witches were considered middle-grounders. you could never tell if their intentions were good or evil, but either way the "gifts" they'd offer you would never fail to come with a price. not cash, but something far more valuable. jasper journeyed to one completely on his own accord, a mere boy, and what did he request? a vial of poison, and nothing more. the elderly witch had peered over her glass table, the long pearl necklace she wore emitting a subtle clank as it made contact with the surface, her head tipping down to peer at the short boy before her. her hair was frizzy and gray, and she was adorned in nothing but tatters and rags. she'd released a horrible chuckle at his request, curiously questioning the reason he needed it. he hadn't responded either, instead repeating what he'd come for, able to hold the witch's brass gaze without flinching. the elderly woman, as a witch, could understand in an instant who this boy was to become. withes were known for their fortune-telling abilities, and although she kept it to herself, as she passed a young jazz the finger-sized bottle of black liquid, she saw into his future. it was bleak and filled with betrayal and bloodshed, but somehow jasper would be happy.
________pan's boy enacted his devious plan only a day after returning with the precious vial, keeping it concealed in his mattress until the time was right. it would've only taken a singular drop each, that should've been enough to take them down, but he'd dunked half the bottle's contents into each of his parents' filled coffee mugs. they drank from them without a second thought, following their morning routines, but they never spoke another word. jasper could still vividly recall sitting there at the ancient dining room table he and pan had carved together, when he was a much younger boy, leaning into his elbows as if he planned to make casual conversation. he'd sat and watched with wide, excited eyes as his parents were quickly eaten away by the poison's overdose. their mouths steamed and their eyes reddened, and drips of blood fell from their nostrils. a sinister, maddening grin spread across his features as they collapsed from their chairs, their skin draining of color and their final breaths painfully flinging into the frigid air. he actually remained there, in that same position, without fail, for hours. he stared ahead, a calmed expression on his face as he sat in the same room the corpses of his parents resided in. "you were right, mom," he'd said, fiddling carelessly with his fingers, "i guess i am special after all."
________jasper was a sociopath. he'd performed countless, horrific sins, all the while remaining undetected. most figured he was the hero, the brave good guy who'd swoop in and rescue those in need. he caught thief's, and settled unnecessary disputes, and helped children find their lost parents. he was the model of peter pan, and everyone admired him for braving their deaths and keeping on a cool face through the tragedy. but none would know their condolences were swiftly swept under a rug and forgotten, and as was his ability to comprehend sympathy. he wasn't sorrowful for the things he'd done, nor did he regret the things he had presently gotten himself into doing. he did the bidding of villainous figures who couldn't on their own, and received things like riches, or privileges, or whatever his heart desired as a reward. presently, his responsibility was to snuggle in real close with those who resided in the summer plans... he had great plans in store for the son of maleficent, they just had to wait and see. the show would begin later, but for the time being he was to gather information. it wasn't difficult, seeing as how hilariously transparent the people who lived there could be. every last one of them thought that their secrets were safe, but in all actuality none should've been able to sleep with both eyes closed.
________"come now, boys can be pretty." jazz didn't bother looking up towards roya, who was, without a doubt, none too pleased to have found him lurking there. but it was too fun, and he worked better with the element of surprise. he'd already attracted the lovely bird's attention, who was busily staring intently at pan's son. it was as if diaval could sense the devil in him, but couldn't quite put a finger, or talon, on why. "and i wasn't suggesting you were a monster, silly! i was only curious why he'd shown himself here, of all places." to which roux responded with a nervous chuckle, sensing the tension between jazz and roya with ease. none could miss it, no matter how seemingly stupid you were. it was impossible to look past the evident hatred that circulated from the good to the evil, who unknowingly could swap their labels for each other's. jazz as the wicked, and roya as the kind. they clashed in all the right places, and with his sickly mind he'd found he loved it. playing games with those who didn't know they were being played with was too rich! especially when they had a slight hunch, but those around them were desperate to sway them into thinking otherwise.
________roya eventually abandoned them, scurrying away from the group to continue her journey. she called after roux, who was hesitant to leave jazz behind. "we're going to find maleficent's son and juniper, if you'd care to join us? we're probably going to eat something too, if you're... hungry?" the gentle knight questioned, earning a grin from ear-to-ear. "thanks for offering, seeing as roya wasn't all too keen on inviting me. we have a past together, i imagine she's explained, but our worlds don't collide in the most graceful fashion." he simply shrugged his shoulders, nodding his head carelessly as he passed roux. the village boy lingered for a short few moments afterward, as if contemplating something, but hurriedly shook his head and jogged to catch back up with the group. diaval eventually fluttered back over to perch on his shoulder too, as if he was growing a bad feeling from being in touch with jasper's sadistic vibes for such a great length of time. the bird didn't find that roya was crazy for thinking jazz unsafe, but he also wasn't prepared to jump the gun and making any nasty accusation towards him. no one wanted to be that person, the one who would accuse a very lonely, lost, and innocent boy of being a cruel guy with crooked underlying intentions to his presence among them. they were so clueless... it was adorable, and all apart of the game! jasper enjoyed the game, and the others being unaware of its existence. not until later, when he could finally initiate the climax to his mission.
________he wasn't far behind when roux quickly approached roya at her station on a bench, clearly having temporarily parked herself there after stubbing her foot painfully. it almost made jazz gag how they interacted, and the blossoming romance that billowed around them in gigantic, obvious tufts. could no one else see? he was right, they were blind. blissfully clueless to everything, including the way they looked at each other. there was something more there than what was being let on, an appreciation towards one another, an allure. they were equally snagged in one another's web, but everyone knew true love wasn't a thing. it would break you before it ever brought you eternal happiness... it was as big a fraud as jazz presently was, pretending he wished to befriend the others while actually he only wished to do away with them. one in particular he'd been sent to fancy the most, unnamed but certainly not inconspicuous. who could mistake the maleficent's son?
________"are you alright?" roux queried, smiling sweetly at roya as he noticed her glaring rather angrily at her poor foot. jazz could only give off a tired eye roll, fiddling with the pixie dust that still remained in the palm of his hand. "mm, yes, she's fine. quit babbling over one another, and let's find the others."

[vixen;]

juninper

----------wrong. this was wrong. yet right. right. her parents would never allow such a thing to be true. this is was forbidden. he was the enemy, someone who was raised to hate her. and she was raised to hate him and his kingdom. to hate his mother and him. that was to be the end of their relationship. she was never to have met him and if she had ever had the misfortune of meeting the dreaded prince of evil, she was to summon her guards at once, to have him taken to prison. not to dance with him. juniper could hear her mother's voice in her head, scolding her. it filled her head, pushing out any thoughts of happiness. june could feel the happiness being pulled away, the peace leaving everywhere around her. she had made a grave mistake. he stared at her now, she should have never invited him in. now rejection would be quick and juniper would be left alone. why wouldn't he move? why did he just stare? june began to feel panicked. her thoughts turned to leaving the ballroom, to never go into lark's presence again. she had a mistake. this would never stand, word would get out. the good princess had danced with the prince of evil, and in juniper's moment of weakness, she was killed by lark. june looked away from him, her eyes falling onto his shoulder. black clothing. she stared at it as though she was trying to light it on fire. her hand rested against his collar bone, her other hand rested on his shoulder. she stared at his shoulder, looking back at him as he reached out, touching the side of her neck. her eyes flew back to his, watching his once more. juniper looked back at him, he moved closer to her, and june wasn't panicking as he did.
----------june stared into his eyes. unlike many dances, juniper's thoughts of dancing with the prince of evil had shifted from pure disgust, to never wanting it to end. she wished to stand where she stood for a million lifetimes. here with him, a man who could kill her, someone who her father had spent years hunting down, desperate to catch. and now she stood here with him. lark. she could ruin him, reveal his name to the world, reveal his true personality, and reveal his weakness. but she never would. strangely enough, she trusted this man, she trusted the prince of evil. maleficent's only son. she moved her hand hand, letting it rest against lark's neck. she felt safe, more safe than if one thousand guards had surrounded her. she still doubted that lark would let her live, but now those doubts weren't present. she trusted him. june moved closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. she stared at his eyes, her smile small and meek as she looked at him. this wasn't the relationship cinderella had planned for her only daughter. not what anyone had ever thought would happen. june didn't believe in fate or true love. now, true love seemed to be the only reason she felt comfortable around the most wanted person throughout her kingdom, the mortal enemy to her family. fate had pulled them together, had kept them close and now, it seemed as though fate was going to change both of their lives for better or for worse.
---------this would not be the first person juniper had kissed, that much was true. many princes had had the fortune of meeting the heir to the good throne, some were more liked than others. but each had turned out to be arrogant young men wanting nothing more than to be the future king of good. rapunzel's son had been the worst, an arrogant young man who took more interest in his hair than anything else. truth be told, rapunzel's second oldest son had been handsome, he could disguise his arrogant behavior quite well, but in the end. he turned out to be just the same as all the other princes. it was hard to get him to leave the palace, guards had to be used to expel him from the castle grounds. he returned many times, causing panic in june's life. she had barely left the castle for a year after that, worried she would meet rapunzel's son. many princes had shown up on june's doorstep like a lost puppy. june took pity on them, taking them into the palace and showing them love and affection.
----------they all turned out to be either arrogant or ignorant. june had given up showing love to anyone that enter into the castle doors, cinderella threw more and more dances, trying so desperately to find her daughter a husband. but not a husband that june would love, one that would easily agree with cinderella's wishes. june had never gone against her mother or father, and never feared either of them. but to have lark here, to have her polar opposite stand before her, to talk with him as though they had known each other for decades. june now broke every law that her mother had ever set for her daughter. lark was doing something, he threw out the laws that cinderella had placed and june celebrated as she met him, seeing each day he was still here. she hated to admit it, but lark was making her doubt everything about her mother's rules. june should have never stayed here, never reached up, placing both her hands close to his neck. safety and royalty had never gone hand-n-hand, all royal castles were overflowing with guards ready to fight to the death for the family inside. to protect every person of the royal family even if it meant losing their own lives, to protect them from people like lark. but now here was juniper, standing close to lark. almost as a price to pay for being royal, there was never a feeling of true safety. someone could always poison your food, kill you in your sleep, or turn the entire kingdom against you. even with thousands of guards surrounding her at all times, june had never truly felt safe.
----------until now. she felt safe wrapped in his embrace. safe. the reason why she moved closer. trusting, as she stood close to him. she moved closer, her eyes fluttering closed as she moved again... moved to close the space between their lips.

roya

----------she rubbed her foot, muttering in arabic about benches and shoes. she looked up as she saw roux, his smile caused her to blush. jazz lurking in the background caused the blush to disappear, replacing it with a frown as he answered before she could. roya looked back at roux, returning a small smile. she stood up, brushing off herself off. roya glared at jazz, then looked back at the hall in front of them. roya hated to admit it, but jazz was right, it was almost time to eat, roya was getting hungry and she couldn't cook to save her life. roya looked at both of the young men. she was smaller than either of them, both could easily crush her, even daival could win in a fight. roya could run, but that was it, catch her and she was doomed. roya ignored roux's question of whether she was okay or not, she continued walking down the hallway, leaving roux and jazz behind her. she turned the corners, following the path back to the kitchen. she stopped, waiting for the three men to catch up. she continued walking, turning corners and waiting for them to catch up before she continued. roya walked, her thoughts preoccupied with getting to the kitchen. she passed by paintings of the royal family, another oil painting with cinderella and her family, one with snow white standing alone.
----------roya walked on, her small footstep echoed as she walked towards the kitchen. she had memorized a route to the kitchen, using the main hallways and their easily seen markers. the ballroom, the statue of cinderella in her crown. there were unmistakable monuments lining the castle, some of which roya had yet to see. but as she stood before the statue of a foreign ruler, roya had to admit she was lost. she went back to the trio of two men and a crow, standing by roux. "i'm lost." she muttered, she spoke mostly for herself. roya guarded her words around jazz, not wanting to give him any advantage. she stood by roux, walking quickly to keep up with him.
----------he was handsome. roya had begun to notice more about his features ever since jazz mentioned his cheek bones. she had missed it, or maybe she had ignored it. not wanting to admit her attraction to him. his eyes were a strange blue, something roya liked to watch, to study. his hair was unique as he was. roya hated to admit it, to have to think about whether she was attracted to him or not. she hated to admit it, so she wouldn't. she would push that feeling down, ignore it for as long as she could. she was a monster, something people ran from, no one wanted to be around the villainous children, let alone befriend them. roux's behavior towards her confused her more than anything. it puzzled her. his mother had rejected her, yelling threats at her as she ran from their village. she had been chased out of many villages, almost all of the villages she had ever stayed in. but leaving the one where roux lived was more difficult than anything she had done before. she had stayed around the outer edge of the village, lurking within the forest, hoping to see roux again. she had encountered no one other than a merchant. she caught a ride, going back to the summer palace. she fled, like a dog with its tail between its legs, she ran away from the village, locking herself in the attic. the one place where hate didn't exist. the attic was roya's safe haven. she refused to leave it until now. but why? what had changed?
----------roux. roux had entered roya's life. what had once been steady was now turned into a mess of questions and confusion. she now had to answer questions, to watch out for herself. her heart was something she guarded carefully, having a childhood that wrecked her, no mother to help her through life, roya knew only what her father had taught her; paranoia, greed and to take extreme caution in everything you do. oh, and also to tax the life out of everything. she watched roux's movement and how he reacted to what she said. no one took her speaking in arabic well. juniper had even tried to tell her that talking in a language no one could understand could be considered rude. roya had ignored the princess of good, deciding that since she was going to be considered evil, she might as well give be evil. she had decided that the day that red had run her out of the village. roya had come to the idea that being like her father couldn't be so bad. she had gone to the attic to think, only to have roux appear hours later. and have those plans ruined.
----------roya turned down a corner. "wait. i know where we are. the ballroom's right this way, we can cut through there and get to the kitchen faster." roya looked up at roux, smiling as she almost danced towards the ballroom. she began to map out the way to get to the kitchen; servants hallways, main rooms, bed rooms. roya would drag them all of the castle just for the fun of running through it. perhaps everyone didn't enjoy being dragged around the castle, but with roya as a guide, they would be pulled around the castle until roya found the kitchen. roya danced away from roux and jazz. she grabbed a hold of a pole in front of the ballroom, spinning around until she was looking into the ballroom. she looked back at roux, then stepped into the ballroom, her footsteps echoing again. she stopped, frozen where she stood as she looked at the heirs to the thrones. heirs to two separate thrones. one to good. one to evil. staring at each other as though there was nothing else in the world. roya looked back at the doorway, trying to see the others. she turned back to heirs. shock playing on her face.
----------"hello. what are you two doing?" her words echoed, fracturing the silence. she looked at june and nameless, trying to figure out why or more likely how they had ended up in the ballroom, that close to each other. this was forbidden. against every law in existence.