Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to Level 5 and Studio Ghibli.
A/N: No doubt, the title is misleading. XD I apologize in advance for that.
Fine, fine, I know I said I wasn't going to be writing anymore Ni No Kuni, but people asked and I felt the urge to write once more. It's sort of a sequel to "To Steal a Smile" (minus the fact that Swaine has never kissed Esther), because it deals with similar themes and ideas from the previous fic. I read in a few places where people have been annoyed with the surplus of Esther/Swaine stories and lack of real adventure stories. I can agree with that (although I love me a good adventure/romance story. Having the cake and eating it, too, is the writer and reader's ultimate dream after all XD), but I won't be doing any multi-chapter fics here, haha. I'm currently in the process of writing several multi-chapter stories elsewhere, as well as working on a graphic novel, my own novel, and a visual novel. So, I'm afraid, it's just this simple Esther/Swaine story...again. XD Really, I'm sorry (not that much, though. I can't apologize for the plot bunnies in my head). Which also means...BIG FAT, FATTY, FAT, FAT WAFFY FAT ALERT. Also known as "warm and fuzzy feelings with unnecessary fluff that will be sure to ensue endless vomiting." Yay!
Also, I realize that Horace says that the Blizzard Blooms grow all over the region, but it wasn't easy foraging those damn things in the game, and where the hell do the monsters keep them anyway? In their second pockets? Anywho, for the purpose of the story, I made them a little harder to obtain. If that bugs anyone, well...so-rr-y?
I also have no clue of anything about Esther's mother, and Myrtle's mother doesn't appear for very long. I have no idea if my information is accurate (that was Ni No Kuni's job to tell us but it didn't, haha), so don't hold me to anything.
And, lastly, this is a thirty-three page story chopped into three chapters because I doubt anyone (including me) has the attention span to read thirty-three full pages. I'll update every few days though. I promise.
I hope you enjoy it, and please be kind. I'm still shaky writing Ni No Kuni with a lack of character development. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames will be flung on catapults to make fireworks :-D
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Her Majesty, the Ice Queen
Chapter One
From Desert Princess to Ice Queen
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"I think it's up ahead."
Esther couldn't quite hear Oliver from her position behind him. He said something more, but the wind slapped her ears and she cringed.
Cupping her hands around the swelling flesh, she called out, "What?" before becoming aware that trying to listen with her ears covered wouldn't work well.
She removed her hands for just a moment and Oliver glanced over his shoulder to repeat, "Yule. It's just up ahead. I think I can see the lights."
And, for a moment, she thought she could too. Or maybe she was hallucinating as the result of being cold and tired.
All Esther knew was that she was a desert girl, not a snow girl, and had not even the smallest inclination of what she was up against upon coming here. Painted pictures of cotton snow appeared warmer when viewing them while in the desert, and those who played in it did not seem cold or uncomfortable.
She felt lied to. The snow wasn't white, fluffy cotton, nor was it comfortable. Her body was numb. Her reddening fingers itched and were puffy. Esther's cheeks burned and her ears were in the same state, if not a more sensitive one. The worst part was when she had to hide herself every few minutes in the back to wipe her nose when sniffling didn't work.
The snowflakes fell far in between each other and the wind picked up speed. Upon rejection from entering the Glittering Grotto, the group had been instructed to descend south to the little village of Yule which was nestled into the crook of the mountain. Calling Tengri wouldn't have been a problem, but the clouds were settling in, making it near impossible to see. It would be difficult for the dragon to find them at this point. The village wasn't too far away, anyhow—a few miles or so—which wasn't bad until the wind swirled up snow from the ground and attacked Esther. The white flurries hadn't relented since their departure from the Glittering Grotto.
Swaine fell back a few steps, tugging up on the collar of his green jacket to create a nice barrier against the snow and wind. But Esther saw that he was unsuccessful as he continued to fumble with it. He adjusted the strap on his bag, reminded her that she needed to check and make sure her belongings were dry. Oliver pulled the red cape over his head like a hood and Drippy took shelter within. She could see his small lantern waving back and forth with each step the boy took, which was slow and robotic. A bag was looped over the boy's back, and it tapped against his side as he walked.
"If we get up under those ledges, it will ward off the wind," she heard Swaine say.
Esther stopped a moment to wipe her running nose against her arm and glance up. There was a ledge not far off, and Yule sat close after. The snowfall looked lighter above the village, as though someone or something had warded off the brutality of the storm.
"There's thinking." Drippy peeked out from under Oliver's cape. "Get a move on, mun." The fairy dropped the cape back over himself like a curtain.
The idea of finding shelter gave Esther the motivation to trudge forward again, faster this time. She ignored the cold and wet feeling in her feet. The snow had soaked through her shoes and would take hours to dry. There was a small bit of warmth flowing in the soles of her feet, but she was almost positive that it was the frostbite settling in.
Then again, Esther had never had frostbite before.
Even the stories from her mother and the paintings of Yule couldn't compare to this.
The underbelly of the ledge kept most of the wind out, just as Swaine said it would, but the snow was still deep, and the moisture kept well. The thief stopped once and pointed heavenwards, to which Esther's gaze followed.
A small gasp escaped her mouth. She was cold, and tired, and staring at the most beautiful thing she had seen in a long time.
There, living on the ceiling of the ledge, were rows of crystal teeth. Some were bigger than others, some were leaking, and a drop fell on Esther's shoulder. She glanced down at it and looked back up.
"Icicles," Swaine said. "Gorgeous ain't it? You'll only see them here in the snow plains, or if you know how to use that ice spell of yours properly." His last words fell on Oliver, who was too busy staring at the formations above to notice.
Drippy came out from under the cape, holding the folds of the fabric over his head with his stumpy arms.
"Ei'nt it a beaut'?" he asked to no one in particular. "Been a lot of places, I 'ave. Even here. But never seen nothing like this, I tell ya."
Wish you would've warned us it was going to be this cold, Esther shuddered.
But she thought better than to pick a fight with the fairy. She wouldn't win, and it wouldn't change their situation now. She kept her attention on the biggest icicle up top. It was in the center of some smaller ones that were bunched around it. The shine made the ice sparkle like glass—almost like a sunburst. Or a flower.
Like the famous blizzard bloom of Yule.
She had always wanted a blizzard bloom ever since she saw the paintings as a child in her picture books. They were ice flowers that could be harvested only in the Winter Isles, and Yule's villagers were adept at obtaining them. They never melted or changed shape, and no two were ever alike. The icicles she saw now reminded her of those flowers and her chest became light as a thought formed in her mind.
I wonder if I can find some in Yule. I wonder how much they'll charge for one. I could bring it back and show my father. Then again...I wonder what his reaction would be.
"All right." Swaine tapped her on the shoulder. "Best be moving on now. Wouldn't want to freeze before we made it into the village."
"R-Right." She took a last gaze of the icicles with her before trotting in behind her companions.
Snow fluffed up around her feet once more, but she left with the encouraging thought that she was a moment closer to finding a genuine blizzard bloom, just like in the paintings.
Just like mother talked about.
Leaving the safety of the ledge wasn't as terrible as when the party had first come in. Tromping downward into the valley left the mountain peaks to catch the brunt of the wind and traveling snow. Both Oliver and Swaine's hair were matted across the sides of their faces, droplets of water trailing down their foreheads and cheeks while some just fell away into their dampened clothes. Esther reached up to grab her own hair and tugged on the floppy braid that had come loose around the bottom. She swept her bangs back with a cold hand and they flattened on top of her head. When she tried to brush them forward, they popped up and held that way.
Swaine glanced over at her just as she had pushed her bangs straight up like two antennae on her head. He burst out laughing, causing her to puff out her cheeks in disapproval, and Oliver turned to see what the commotion was about.
"You look like you've been flipping electrocuted," the thief guffawed, holding his sides with his hands. They were red at the knuckles and tips from the cold. Even his cheeks had gone rosy.
"Speak for yourself." She gestured to the brown, wet curls that framed his face.
Oliver tried to refrain himself from chuckling, but Drippy wasn't so good at hiding his laughter. Swaine frowned as he flicked the hair away, but it landed back in the same place.
"What are you sneering at?" the thief pointed at Oliver's own attire, which clung to his tiny body.
His hair was ruffled from having the cape hung over him, though his bangs stuck to his forehead. Drippy wrapped himself in the slack of the fabric that was left and Esther thought he looked like a frumpy old woman clothed in bright colored robes.
"Um," Oliver kept the cape close to his head to prevent further embarrassment, though was failing at it, "Yule is over the hill."
"Right." Drippy nudged the side of the boy's face with his small form, "Let's get on with it, shall we?"
The oldest man made off without another word and Esther pushed her bangs down around her face. She didn't care if they looked hilarious or not. It was better than having antennae.
Bright lights reflected against the snow and Esther peered down the hillside. Spots of yellow were speckled across the village, the majority being mounted on large, well-crafted igloos. Villagers disappeared through icy doors while others emerged outside. As the group came closer to the village gates, Esther was able to make out the snowman shape of the igloos. Their noses were made from sticks that hung small banners. She smiled, even through her chattering teeth. Some of the inhabitants were the same white snow folk that they had encountered at Glittering Grotto.
They're like little snowmen themselves. I remember my mother and father calling them tomtes, the actual natives of Yule. It's wonderful that the tomtes and humans can live together in peace.
"Wow," she marveled. "This place is amazing."
"Yeah..." Oliver dropped the cape around his head and Drippy snatched it up around his tiny body. The boy spun in a slow circle. "Do you see the lights coming through the snow in the igloos? It's incredible."
He pointed to one that reflected against a tree hugged with snow. The light made it glitter like silver. Esther wrapped her arms around her waist, but jumped up and down with delight. The thought of actually seeing a blizzard bloom enthralled her, as did the possibility of owning one. Her mother owned one a long time ago, but it was lost now.
"And those big fluffy creatures," she added. "Like the one we met up top. I've never seen them before but I think my father called them...to-mt-es...? Either way, they look so warm and cuddly."
"Yeah," Drippy nodded. "Those are tomtes. Youell only see them here in the Winter Isles. Everywhere else is too warm for them, see?"
A small, chubby tomte walked in front of Oliver at that moment. He stopped, blinked at them with beady eyes, then continued around the backside of an igloo.
"They're so cute," the boy shivered, but shared the same enthusiasm as Esther.
Swaine, however, did not. He wrapped himself within his arms and his teeth were clinking together loud enough that Esther could hear, even though she was standing behind him.
"Yeah, yeah, they're lovely," he said in a snippy voice. "Could we talk about how nice Yule is inside, you think? I think I can feel my blood turning to ice."
Drippy wrapped himself tighter within Oliver's cape and the boy pressed his arms against his chest in an effort to stay warm.
"I'll second that, mun. Freezing my bits off, I am. Brr! It's chilly."
Esther couldn't feel her arms anymore, and hugging her body seemed futile. While inside sounded wonderful, she wished she had a coat or something comfortable so that she could go exploring. Touching the snow had been what she always wanted to do, but after a while it was too cold without gloves. Still, there were plenty of other things to do in the snow that she dreamed of, ever since she was a little girl. There were snowball fights, ice skating, riding down hills on wooden sleds, and making shapes in the snow. In those same pictures Esther saw were children making miniature sized igloos and snowmen by rolling balls of snow and digging out tunnels.
Her mother promised they would do all those things some day.
Oliver suggested trying to find information about the magic stones while Drippy thought to find the village elder like the tomte guarding Glittering Grotto had suggested. Swaine rolled his eyes and complained under his breath, causing Esther to scowl at him from behind.
He was always whining and never had anything positive to say. They had traveled together long enough that she knew what to expect from him, which wasn't much, and what not to expect, which was a lot more.
They began on a trek through the village, garnering confused stares from both the tomtes and villagers alike. Esther knew it was because their casual wear wasn't appropriate for the climate and they wore the expressions well.
She kept in the back, that way she could still eye everyone and everything in the village. The desert girl wondered what it would be like to live in a place like this, to be able to survive, and to prosper. She had always been accustomed to the heat, and scrounging for shade when it got too hot. Here, it was the other way around, where the natives always had to wear something warm.
Her mother was born and raised in Yule. Esther had found her winter coat years ago, and her mother presented her with pictures of a younger, happier self. She looked just like an ice queen, robed in a white, furry coat that spun down her legs like a gown. Mother's blonde hair was longer then, but kept in a braided bun so that it wouldn't droop from the snow. Her eyes were bluer than any blizzard bloom Esther saw in the picture books, and, one day, she swore that she would be an ice queen just like Mother.
But her mother had other plans. She hated the cold, despite the smiles she wore in those pictures. She dreamed of the sun, and beaches, and dipping her toes into the water on the coast. When Father came into her life, Esther imagined him like a knight riding in to save her mother. How beautiful things must've been back then. Mother could have the sun, and the sand, and the water and leave the cold behind.
Esther was born in the desert sun, and deduced that she wouldn't like to live in the snow after all, but it would be fun to visit—maybe in something warmer, of course. It wasn't like Castaway Cove, where the weather was pleasant all year long and swimming was always an option. It was nicer than the desert, despite having lived there her entire life.
She thought her mother would be living somewhere close to there by now, having loved the coast. Esther had been hopeful that she might see her along their travels. She was living somewhere, after all. Drippy assured her that a living creature could not exist in one world without the other. She didn't want to worry Oliver with her troubles, so when she saw Myrtle's mother, Betty, back in the boy's world, she said nothing.
But she's just like I remember her. Beautiful like an ice queen, and transformed into a sand princess. Her hair was shorter, and she dressed differently, but she was so graceful even still. Father must've been different back then.
It wasn't until after Shadar arrived, stole Esther's heart and broke her father's spirit did her mother leave. Esther couldn't quite remember it because she didn't care then.
Being brokenhearted meant being a broken person. Nothing mattered.
Maybe her mother was broken, too. Why else could she leave them behind?
She shook the thoughts from her head, not wanting to spend them on her mother anymore. It was hard to even think about Myrtle, her soul mate, and the one who had the life Esther wanted. A father and a mother—Rusty and Betty—and Myrtle had friends and a job at the grocery store.
Esther had Oliver and Drippy. There was noway she'd ever consider Swaine a friend. It was hard even calling him a companion what with how they fought each day. He hated Esther, she was sure of it. But it was ironic that the scruffy haired thief had taken a liking to her Motorville soul mate, wishing he could do something to comfort her while her friend, Denny, remained brokenhearted.
A downright womanizer. That's what he is.
Myrtle, Khulan...was there no one safe from him?
And doesn't he know that Myrtle is my soul mate? He antagonizes me and makes cruel remarks to me, but finds her attractive. He's blind as well.
It depressed her. How could sweet, noble Gascon and wretched, whiny Swaine be one and the same person? She had been so fond of the older prince. His loyalty for his brother was admirable, and Esther wished she had a sibling she could have the same relationship with. Despite her envy of Myrtle, she wanted her soul mate to see her. That way, at least she'd have someone close. That way, she could meet her mother again.
Then a question popped into her head: who was Swaine's soul mate? Was he at least tolerable where this Swaine had failed? Maybe he was like Gascon, handsome and strong. Marcassin would still be his brother, the two of them sharing a bond as they did. Gascon would still be protecting Marcassin in the other world from things like cars—scary things that even Esther didn't recognize when traveling to Oliver's world. He assured her it was nothing terrible and cars were, in fact, a marvelous invention.
Esther wasn't sure she believed it.
Maybe the Motorville Gascon drove a car too. It was unfortunate that the Motorville civilians couldn't see their counterparts. She wondered if Gascon would have taken her for a drive if he could see her.
Of course he would. He's not like Swaine.
She stopped walking.
The sad truth was...he was Swaine, even down to the deep, violet eyes and cocky smile.
And he was pushy, never giving a second thought to anyone else.
He calls me nosy, makes fun of me and my dreams, and taunts me. So what if the idea of love fascinates me? Kublai and Khulan...Prince Ali and Princess Yasmina...Even watching my parents' soul mates and how deeply in love they are. It's beautiful, yet, all Swaine does is mock me and my feelings.
"That's it, I've had it, I'm done walking." The thief disengaged himself from the group and pushed through the nearest ice door and disappeared.
Esther stepped in next to Oliver, who was confused as to what had just transpired.
"What in the bloomin' blazes?" Drippy poked his head out from under the cape, his lantern swinging about.
"He just...took off." Esther narrowed her eyes and stared up at the igloo.
The banner read, "Swift Solutions."
"I guess we could ask around in here." Oliver shrugged, "After all, the taskmaster knows what's going on most of the time. And someone may have posted something useful."
The desert girl shook her head, still hugging her body close. "Either way, it will get us out of the snow. Maybe it will do better on his bad mood." She had meant for her last words to be coated in sarcasm, but Oliver smiled at what he assumed was her thoughtfulness.
Esther went first, recoiling at how cold the ice block door was when she pushed her palms up against it. She paused a moment, stared at her reddening hands, and then inhaled.
Just do it quickly, and then it won't be so bad.
Using her shoulder this time, she thudded against the ice, watched it scrape across the snowy floor, and squeezed herself through. She hadn't opened the door quite far enough, and the ice kissed her chest while the snow wall of the igloo grabbed her from the back. Esther cringed and hopped up and down once inside, causing her bag to jingle from the contents inside.
"Cold...cold..." she said with clinking teeth. The girl tried to still them, but found the act impossible.
Swaine stood across from her in front of the bulletin board. He gave her an awkward stare before shaking his head.
"Thank you for stating the obvious," he said.
"Shut up!" she stomped her foot and pushed her face toward his. "What's the big idea running off, anyway?"
"I didn't run off," he replied with an even tone. "If you and Oliver want to go search for information in the freezing cold without any winter wear, then that's on you. As for me, I think I'll stay indoors, thank the lot of you very much."
"Staying indoors won't get us anywhere," Esther argued. "Stop being a coward for once, Swaine."
His eyes darkened. "A coward? How is wanting to stay alive being a coward? Are you just plain stupid?"
"Takes one to know one."
"A~hem."
The bickering duo spun around to see Oliver in front of the door, Drippy down around his ankles, and the taskmaster drumming his fingers along the shiny counter top. The crackling from the fire behind him was all that could be heard for the moment until he spoke again.
"Begging your pardon, but would you mind keeping the noise level to a dull roar? There are others in here, too, you know..."
"Sorry," Swaine muttered and turned away.
"Yes, sorry." Esther bowed.
"Now then," the taskmaster went back to his paperwork, "you are more than welcome to stay in here to keep warm. Outsiders, I take it? Best find some better clothes before long. Of course, please keep the noise down."
The girl shifted her eyes to see who else was in the igloo listening in on the argument. The room was quite spacious for appearing so tiny on the outside. She was amazed the taskmaster could get everything looking as nice and neat as he had. Bookshelves decorated one half of the room, vases accented the reflection of the ice, especially coming from the fire behind him, and the bulletin board was off to the right. A white rug was hung behind it.
I thought he said there were other people in here. There's no one but the taskmaster and us.
The white rug shook from behind the bulletin board. Esther cocked her head, one brow arched higher than the other.
Is that a...tomte? I thought he was a part of the decorations. How embarrassing...
"So, now what?" Oliver crossed his arms, but not with the same desire to keep warm as he had before. Esther noted that she was doing better as well. It was at least tolerable in here. "We need to find the elder, or at least some clue about the magic stones to fix Mornstar."
"But it's proper cold, out there, ei'nt it?" Drippy brought a hand up under his chin and closed his eyes to think. "Bein' in here is nice, mun. I can't imagine leavin'."
"We can't just stay in here, Mr. Drippy," the boy argued. "I know it's cold, but we won't meet the elder this way."
"I say the next best thing is to call it a day and try again in the morning." Swaine raised a hand.
Esther looked at him. "That won't change what the temperature is tomorrow. We'll have the same problem then as we're having now."
"I'd like to hear what your good idea is, then."
"I didn't say I had one, just that your idea wasn't going to get us anywhere."
"Well, excuse me then. I didn't realize it was a competition of who had better ideas, or, in your case, no ideas at all."
She threw her arms up. "Why does everything have to be so difficult with you, Swaine?"
"I'm not difficult. You're just not listening to anyone else but yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ahhhh~hem!"
The squabbling duo turned to the taskmaster, whose beady eyes were so dangerous it could've turned them to stone, had he the power to do so. Pursing her lips together, Esther averted her gaze. Swaine did the same thing.
After a few moments, the thief said in a low voice, "I'm just saying that we've been walking around in the snow most of the day. It's cold, I'm tired—I'm sure you all are—and we're not getting anywhere because no one can think straight. I mean look at you." He gestured to her still swollen hands, red arms, and messy hair, "We're not at our best right now. So let's just call it a day and we can start again in the morning. The village elder isn't going anywhere. We'll have plenty of time to find him and ask permission to enter Glittering Grotto tomorrow."
Esther paused to consider. When Swaine put it that way, she became aware of how stiff and tired she was. And wet. Her shoes were still sloshing around with water when she walked and her arms and legs were puffy from the cold. She didn't even want to see what her hair looked like now, and judging from how Oliver and Swaine appeared, she wasn't any better. Even Drippy was shivering, though he tried to hide it.
"You have a point," she concluded. "Let's call it a day and we can start again tomorrow. I'm sure that will be all right with Oliver, too."
When her eyes met Swaine again, he was no longer staring back. Instead, he was making an uncomfortable face and his attention was focused behind her. Esther glanced over her shoulder, saw nothing, so pivoted until she came chest to stomach with the white tomte she had eyed earlier.
She shrieked and jumped back into Swaine, who caught her around the shoulders. His grip was firm as he tried to keep from losing balance himself.
The tomte didn't seem to notice.
"Hello," he waved, his voice as deep as the tomte's they had met earlier at Glittering Grotto. Once he started, Esther found it was hard to follow his strange dialect. She pushed herself off of the thief and stepped toward the white creature. "You are being Oliver, yes?"
Drippy waddled a couple of steps forward, then turned to the boy. "Crikey, Ollie-boy, there you were with the tomtes for butties and you never even told us." Disappointment crossed his face. "There's secretive, you are."
"Um...no," Oliver waved his hands at the fairy. "I don't know any tomtes. I don't even know how he knows me."
"Well, we did just say your name a few moments ago," Swaine chuckled.
"No, no," the tomte interrupted. "I am learning it from my teacher, yes? She is being your biggest fan."
The wheels were turning in Esther's head. Biggest fan? Learning about Oliver through a teacher? How would the teacher know about Oliver?"
"Your...teacher?" she asked.
The tomte nodded several times. "My teacher, yes. She is coming to our village to study the ancient archaeology." Then he patted a furry paw against his chest. "I am being her pupil, yes? I am being Ake. Hello to you."
Oliver and Esther replied with introductions while Swaine ran a hand through his wet curls and said, "You're studying archaeology? But you're a...snow...person."
"Swaine," Esther turned and hissed at the thief. "Must you always be so rude?"
"I'm just asking a question," he retorted. "Must you always be so nosy?"
"Yes," the tomte answered, unfazed by the remarks and the argument. "A tomte, yes. I am being Ake."
The girl opened her mouth to excuse Swaine's behavior, but she was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
"Hello to you, Ake. Purrhaps you'd like to introduce me to your new friends?"
Turning her attention to the door, Esther spotted a newcomer—a beautiful brown feline wrapped in a green winter coat. The desert girl wasn't sure what she was in awe of more: the fact that a cat had come all the way out from Ding Dong Dell, or the fact that said feline looked toasty and comfortable in a green coat decorated with pom-poms—something that Esther would've given anything to have for warmth at the moment.
The cat's tail swung back and forth behind her as she walked, then straightened her glasses once she stood in the middle of the group. The feline studied each person, though she gave more time to Oliver than anyone else.
"Hello to you, teacher," Ake beamed. "You are being very late, yes?"
But the teacher was busy grabbing Oliver up in her paws, ogling over the poor child. "Oh...Oh my! Oliver! Goodness, this is such a purrivilege. I can scarcely believe that the great wizard Oliver has come all the way out here to this frozen corner of the world."
Swaine wasn't trying to hide his laughter, and Esther covered her face with her hands in shock. Who was this cat woman? Even her tail was swinging faster the more she scrutinized and hovered over the boy. Oliver was caught somewhere between the idea of freeing himself and giving up and allowing the cat to continue to paw all over him.
Tired of being in the dark, the young girl stepped in. "Excuse me, ma'am." She waited until she had the cat woman's attention. "Please don't think me rude, but...who are you? How do you know about Oliver?"
"Oh," the woman jumped back when she realized what she was doing and rubbed her paws on her coat. "I must apologize, that was purrfectly rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Tabitha, a teacher and a purrofessor. I've been reading about all of Oliver's exploits in the Daily Yarn." Then she smiled as she eyed the boy. "You're quite the news purrsonality, you know."
"The Daily Yarn, eh?" Drippy hopped up and down. "That's how you grimalkins learn what's going on in the world, ei'nt it?"
She bent down to observe the fairy as though she hadn't seen him before now. "Well, aren't you a knowledgeable little thing," she cooed. "Yes, that's right. The Daily Yarn is the purremier news purrovider for grimalkins across the world. And lately, Oliver, we've been tuning into the tales of your adventures."
Esther found herself smiling and she glanced over at the young boy. Red had flushed his cheeks, but it wasn't from the cold this time.
"Wow...Thank you, ma'am." He gave a goofy smile. "It's...embarrassing, but, um, thank you."
The cat leaned forward and dusted something imaginary from his cape. "What purrfect nonsense. Embarrassing, you say? Bah, don't be silly. You're a hero. And am I happy I ran into you, Oliver. I heard about some of your purroblems and I may have some useful information for you."
"With the magic stones, you mean?" Esther clasped her hands together.
Even though it was Oliver receiving the attention, she couldn't hide her excitement that their adventure was spanning across the world and being told to boys and girls everywhere.
"Yes," Tabitha said. "We've all heard of your efforts in returning your wand to its former glory."
"That Daily Yarn doesn't miss a beat, does it?" One end of Swaine's lips tugged upward into a half smile. "I'm impressed, really I am."
"I'm not sure if Ake told you, but I'm a purrofessor of archaeology, and I happen to know quite a bit about Mornstar."
Drippy squealed, which wasn't something he did often. He inhaled, then exhaled, and stared up at Oliver.
"Crikey," was what he managed after a moment. "There's lucky for ya, Ollie-boy. A turn-up for the books, eh?"
Tabitha meowed and smiled. "According to my research, Mornstar was fashioned by none other than the Wizard King himself. And, just purrior to settling into his eternal slumber, he divided the power of Mornstar into three magical stones and sealed them away. These stones were then entrusted to his most faithful followers in order to purrevent the wand's powers from falling into the wrong hands."
"Most faithful followers..." Oliver echoed. He lowered his gaze to Drippy, whose eyes were on Tabitha. "Mr. Drippy, do you think that creature we fought on Tombstone Trail was a follower? Or how about Aapep from the Vault of Tears? He did have one of the stones after all."
The fairy opened his mouth to answer but Tabitha continued, "Concentrate, Oliver, concentrate. Purrepare yourself for the most important part of what I have to tell you. If my theory is correct..." She took a moment to allow the heightened tension to take effect on the group, and waited until their faces twitched with anticipation before the cat said, "One of those followers, and the stone they were entrusted with, is in a cave beyond this village known as the Glittering Grotto."
There was a pause and Tabitha finished with a smug face. Esther felt her enthusiasm slip away and took a moment to think.
But, that's what we thought in the first place, right? Kublai's map said the same thing.
Swaine punched a fist in the air. "Bingo! That must be where the map of the stones was pointing us to."
The young girl turned her eyes to the thief, who wore a different expression than any she had seen before. His eyes sparkled with vigor, and she wondered if his smile would split his face being as wide as it was.
Is he being sarcastic? Or...is he flirting with her?
Something he always did with young girls. It infuriated Esther.
But where Swaine found the grin, Tabitha swallowed it. She looked as though she had been moments away from being awarded a prize just to have someone come and take it back from her.
"Map of the stones?" she whispered. "Y-You mean...?" Her clouded eyes were hidden behind her glasses and she slouched over, head pointed to the floor. The poor cat's ears were even flattened against her head. "You knew where it purrecisely was already? So I haven't helped you at all...How inexpurressibly disappointing..."
"Oh, no, that's not true," Oliver reached out to touch her arm. "We didn't know anything about the Wizard King, or his followers, or any of that stuff. It's helped us to understand the creature we got the first stone from. Thank you, Purrofessor."
She accepted the gratitude, but still appeared forlorn.
"Purrofessor Tabitha," Esther began, hoping that her new question would lift the cat's spirits. "What kind of place is Glittering Grotto?"
"...Well..." She stood up straight again and adjusted her glasses. "As I mentioned, it's a place beyond Yule. A cave marked on the ancient maps as 'the Maw of the Mountain King.' I believe that the Mountain King and the Wizard King are one and the same. But the cave has the power to suck objects into its deepest and darkest depths. This is what leads me to believe that one of the Wizard King's magic stones is hidden deep within Glittering Grotto."
"Of course it would be," Swaine was no longer smiling, but Tabitha's enthusiasm had been restored. Esther found the sudden swap fitting, but also knew that there would only be one reason for Swaine's sudden anxiety. "I have a bad feeling about this."
He's really putting on the whiny show now, isn't he? Perhaps he thinks that by acting this way, she'll offer to give us the grand tour.
"Yes, I'm sure you do have a bad feeling, you great, big wimp!" Esther pointed an accusing finger in his direction. "In case you didn't know, it's called terror."
Swaine's eyes widened at her harsh words. He wasn't used to her calling him direct names, despite all of their arguments, and it was always worse when she insulted him in front of strangers. There was a flash of hurt that Esther caught in his face, and he turned away.
"Shut up. It...It's not any of that. It's...intrepidness and...excitement."
Intrepidness and excitement.
A pang of guilt hit Esther, only because she knew her words had cut him. There was something about being called a coward that never sat right with Swaine, and it wasn't until his royal identity had been revealed that the girl figured out what it was.
The truth is...giving up the throne for his brother was probably the most courageous thing Gascon could've done, despite having run away from the Empire. And I've called him a coward and a wimp in less than ten minutes. I wonder what's got me in such a mood today. Must be the cold...
He was still showing off for Tabitha by pretending not to be angry at Esther for calling him names.
But she knew better.
Swaine was furious.
"Before you go rushing off in purrsuit of the stones, you'll need the purrmission of the village elder to enter Glittering Grotto."
"We're actually looking for him." Oliver's eyes widened with excitement. "Do you know where he is?"
Tabitha's mouth twisted at one end. "Unfortunately...he's away at a gathering of the elders at the moment. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to meet him."
"Figures..." Swaine sighed.
"I was hoping I could accommodate you at my place," Tabitha continued, "but I'm afraid there's not enough room to swing a cat."
Oliver waved his hands. "Oh no, it's okay. You've done more than enough for us already. Thank you Purrofessor Tabitha."
"Don't be silly, it should be me thanking you. It's not every day you get to purrovide a renowned hero with help on his legendary quest." The cat gave a small bow before perking up and adding, "By the way, there should be room for all of you at the inn just inside the entrance to the village. I wish you a purrfectly wonderful night's rest."
Tabitha gave a pat on Oliver's shoulder before shuffling past them and out the door. Esther looked around and noticed that Ake was no longer in the igloo and must have left quite some time ago.
"So, like I said..." Swaine gave a yawn and stretched. "She said the inn, right? Best to at least get checked in and wait until morning. Fancy that, the elder being out of town of all days."
"It's proper strange, but necessary, perhaps." The fairy climbed up the boy's shoulder and under his cape just as Oliver opened the ice block door.
A gust of cold air intruded, and Esther found her arms hugging her waist again. For a short while, she had forgotten what it was like to feel uncomfortable.
The walk back to the entrance was quicker than it had been to Swift Solutions. Swaine was eager to keep everyone from getting distracted, and Esther couldn't blame him. She was tired of feeling wet and cold, and she felt a migraine coming on. Her fingers had just started to go back to their normal size, but the shock of returning them to the cold made them red and itchy all over again. The desert girl wiped them on her pants, but they were soaked too, and didn't much make a difference.
Oliver pushed the door open where a fat cat stood waiting in behind an ice counter. A small fire was crackling behind her, just like in Swift Solutions. The igloo inn was a bit bigger than the taskmaster's shop, and Esther wondered how many rooms there actually were.
"We have one room left," the purrprietor announced after checking her logs. "Two beds. Will this be sufficient?"
"I'll sleep on the floor," Swaine volunteered. "Not much choice in the matter anyway."
"Very good," the purrprietor held out her plump paw, awaiting currency.
Oliver counted out the coins from his pouch before placing them into her possession and she returned with a single key.
"Make sure you don't lose this," she told him. "It's one key purr room, you know..."
"Thanks," the boy smiled and tucked it into his pouch.
"I'm ready for a proper nap, I am," Drippy yawned.
"You can say that again," Swaine found the yawning act contagious, and Esther was trying hard to keep from doing it herself.
"Oliver? Oliver are you here?" The large ice block scraped across the snowy ground and Tabitha stepped in. Her furry cheeks were wet from the snow and she was out of breath. "Oh, thank goodness I caught you here. Please, would you mind coming with me for a moment?"
The boy turned and met the cat's eyes. "Oh, Purrofessor Tabitha. What's wrong?"
"Nothing is the matter, really, but I have found the purrfect thing for you. I forgot to mention it from before. Please, the research is at Ake's home, and I would love for you to purrocure it. It's about Mornstar."
"Really?" Swaine crossed his arms. "What's this about?"
"It won't take long, I promise," the cat protested. "But I believe this is something worthy of Oliver's purrecious attention."
Oliver shrugged. "Would you guys mind waiting a bit? I mean...You can take the key and sleep now if you want..."
"I'll wait," the thief ran a hand through his curls. They were drying out a bit better, and the life was coming back to their poof. "It won't take real long, right? I guess I can look around the village while you're gone. Haven't been to Yule and if I go to the room now, I'll be asleep before long." The bag he had been carrying dropped to the floor.
Esther narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that what you wanted, you lazy oaf?"
"Hey," he balled a fist. "I'm tired, yes, but what's another fifteen or twenty minutes, eh? Besides, the snow isn't as heavy now. I'm sure I can wander around until Oliver gets back."
She placed her hands on her hips and leaned off to one side. "Feeling brave, are we? Thirty seconds ago you were ready for bed."
"That was then and this is now." Swaine pushed his way past her. "Whatever. I don't have to explain myself to you."
Esther held her breath and watched the thief shove the door open and storm out. Somehow, she didn't think he was in his usual arguing mode—the kind where one could say something and the other retort but both shrug it off and move on. She knew him well enough by now.
He was angry, and Esther knew it was because of her.
So that's why he didn't want to stay in the room without Oliver. It would just be me and him and he's still angry because I called him a coward earlier.
At least...she was pretty sure that was why he was angry.
Shaking off her guilt, Esther gave a "ha!" and jerked a finger in the direction he had disappeared in. "What's his problem?"
Drippy, Oliver, and Tabitha continued to stare at her as though they knew what was wrong, knew it was her fault, but didn't want to say anything lest they cause further damage.
"Anyway," Tabitha turned to the younger boy, "would you mind following me? Ake is waiting with the research."
"Oh," Oliver gestured to the group's bags. "Let me get these to our room really quick and I'll be glad to join you."
"Leave them," a voice from behind said. All turned to see the purrprietor waving a paw. "I would be honored to take them to your room for you. Wouldn't want to hold up someone like Purrofessor Tabitha. She's purretty famous in these parts. And, of course, we cats all know about you, too, Oliver the great wizard."
"Ah," Oliver's cheeks flushed. "Thank you so much." He let his bag slump to the ground.
"This is excitin'!" Drippy crawled back under Oliver's cape. "Lead on, will ye? Flippin' cold it is out there. I feel like I'm turnin' into a fairy icicle, I do. All yellow and blue and—"
The Lord High Lord of the Fairies continued to talk and his voice trailed on long after Oliver and Tabitha had exited and the boy turned to Esther and said, "We'll be back later." The desert girl was left standing in the lobby by herself. Even the purrprietor had grabbed up their bags and disappeared into the back. She sighed and struggled with the inner debate of what to do next. She could wait in the lobby for Oliver to return, which sounded boring beyond everything. She could also venture out into the freezing cold like Swaine in search of—
"Blizzard blooms!" she interrupted herself and turned to the door. "Someone in the village has to have them."
Esther fumbled with her pouch and inspected the currency inside. Blizzard blooms couldn't be too expensive, could they? After all, they were indigenous to the area. Never mind the dangerous task of actually harvesting the flower, which was located high in the mountains according to the books she read and tales her mother would tell her.
She wished her mother was around so that she could ask questions like these. The ice queen knew everything about these parts, and Esther wondered which igloo had once belonged to her. There was a thought that maybe the villagers knew who she was and if she had ever returned since leaving Al Mamoon, but that was so many years ago. The girl hadn't the faintest idea of who to ask or where to go.
If I had a picture maybe then someone would recognize her. But father destroyed everything of hers after she left. He told me never to pry or ask where she went. He would be disappointed if he discovered my intentions.
Esther paused, and stared out the window next to the door. The snow was fluttering to the ground in small waves, just as Swaine said. Her eyes focused on one until it fell below the windowsill and she couldn't see it any longer.
Her mother left all of her belongings behind, wanting to start anew. She didn't take her white winter coat that looked like a royal gown, or the blizzard bloom Father smashed under his sandal when he knew that she was never coming back. She didn't take her picture books, her ice skates, or her wedding bracelet.
And she didn't take Esther.
Mother's not here. She swore she'd never come back to Yule. It would be a waste of time to even ask. She's not the ice queen any longer. She's a pirate princess on a ship across the ocean, or a beautiful maiden dangling her legs off a dock in Castaway Cove. She's not here.
The sun, and the desert, and the ocean made it too easy to care. Esther imagined turning her heart into stone. She imagined it adjusting to the cold in the air, and breathing it into her bloodstream. She imagined losing the desert within her and adapting the cold. She imagined not caring anymore. If she became the ice queen, then she could pretend that her mother never lived here. If Esther became the ice queen, it wouldn't hurt so bad to accept that her mother was never coming back.
\/\/\/
Yeah, I always wondered what Esther's mother was like in the game, especially since we never saw her in the other world but we did in Motorville. Felt a little cheated, I did. Anywho, I wanted to keep the piece as a self-reflection rather than an entire WAFF piece—sort of like 'To Steal a Smile.' I hope I did as well as I did the first time around, but it not, let me know (constructively, of course).
This is the first of three chapters and I'll post the second one sometime this weekend.
ML