Pretty white dresses all in a row
Each and every one aglow
And you're hoping you'll just outgrow
In this endless vivant tableau

== Nepeta: Begin

You're not exactly the highest in society, but you aren't very low, either. Your name is Nepeta Leijon, and you are nobility. You are friends a lot of other people, many of whom aren't royalty. You're just unlucky that way.

Most people would say that you are lucky to be noble, but you could not agree less. You hate it. Everyone thinks that you are an only child, but that's not true. Your older sister, Meulin, ran away from home because she was (and is) mage. Your parents are counting on you to be their heir.

For some reason, many of your friends have followed her. Your friend Kanaya is a sylph. Terezi is a seer. Of course Feferi is a witch. But just as many stay with nobility. Eridan is a prince, Equius is an heir, and someone very dear to you is a knight.

You have always known that you are a disappointment to your parents, because you are a girl. They wanted a boy to carry on the family line, but instead they got you and your sister. And your mother has trouble having children, so it's unlikely you'll have a little brother. You were always inclined to believe that your parents wanted you married off as soon as possible, but you used to hope that maybe they did feel some genuine affection for you.

But the final straw is when your parents make the worst announcement of your life.

"Nepeta," your mother says. "I have something to talk to you about. Please sit down."

You sit, and you have a horrible sense of foreboding. Nothing good can come of this.

"We've found an acceptable husband for you and you are betrothed to him."

"WHAT?" you scream. No, this can't happen! You are in love and you can't stand to marry anybody else! "Who?"

"Do you know Eridan Ampora?"

"Mother! You mean I'm betrothed to Eridan? That's not fair! I don't love him!"

"Love doesn't matter. This is about status. You are going to marry him, whether you like it or not."

"I don't care! I won't marry him!" you yell, running away from your mother, your heart in pieces. How can you marry someone you don't love? Your heart has always ruled your head; how can anybody expect that to change now?

The first person you can think of to talk to is your best friend, Equius. Equius will inherit a large duchy when his father passes away. His brother is a page for a much higher-up family, in hopes of gaining their good graces. Equius isn't the disappointment you are.

"Equius," you begin. "I'm betrothed."

"To whom?" he asks, completely unconcerned with the dramatic announcement you have just made.

"Eridan!" you shriek.

He nods. "Quite acceptable for one of your social status," he says, nodding again.

"But…I'm in love! With someone else!" you object.

"It is your duty to marry the one to whom you are betrothed," Equius says, as if he has to explain this to you when you already understand all too well what this means for your future.

"It's alright for you, you are in love with Aradia," you point out. He is betrothed to one much lower than him because he won't pull him down, being the female, and because she had a large dowry. It is rumored that her sister left, just as yours did, and now they are trying to marry off their other daughter before she can follow the same path.

Aradia is your good friend and you hope that she stays away from all that for the sake of her own life.

People hunt down the magical and the psychic around here.

You aren't magical, like your sister, and you sure as hell aren't psychic, like Terezi. You are just you. If you were to join the Magicals, you would have to be a rogue or a thief. And even thieves usually have some psychics or magic. You wish you were magical; then you'd have an excuse to run away and leave it all behind. But as it is, you have a responsibility as the only "normal" child and Equius seems to make you feel guilt over that more than ever.

You are in love, too, and that complicates things. You are in love with a knight, who worked his way up to knighthood, despite being of low birth. He is simply the most gorgeous boy you have ever seen, and he is just your age (sixteen). You honestly can't believe that anyone could become a knight when they're just sixteen, but he managed it and he is the best there is. You don't think (you hope) that he doesn't know what you think of him, but you don't know for sure.

"Nepeta," Equius says, bringing you back to reality. "I must go. I have duties to attend to. And you must do the same. Weddings require much planning."

You nod. "Bye, Equius," you say, waving.

Back at home, it is clear that your mother is preparing. She is sitting with the seamstress, who is stitching white dresses that are just your size.

"The wedding is in three months," your mother informs you. You force yourself to nod. It's not that you dislike Eridan (although you do detest the way he flirts way too much), it's that you don't love him. Not to mention that fact that he is head-over-heels for the best witch in the village, Feferi Peixes. You are not like her. He won't like you, and you won't like him, and neither of you will have a chance to marry to person you really love.

Also, you really really really don't want to think about having children with him.
You refuse to even contemplate the possibility/necessity of having children. Your mother explained it to you once, what it means to be married and lie with someone. There is no possible way to avoid this and you don't want to think about it.

You feel sick to your stomach.

"Are you alright, dear? You look pale," your mother asks.

"It's nothing, Mother," you say, forcing a smile. You can't tell her how much you dread having children, how much you fear dying before you know your child (you hear of many of the women in the village dying giving birth), how much you dread the chosen father of your children.

"Well then, come on. We need to begin preparations." As nobility, you must have a fancy celebration with an elaborate celebration and a huge feast, which you, as a young woman who will soon be in charge of her own household, must help plan.

"The seamstress will fit you for dresses now, and we will decide the menu as soon as you've chosen one you like," your mother says, and suddenly you are hoping that you will grow a foot over the next three months and they'll have to put off the wedding. You'll be seventeen by then; maybe you still have some growth left in you? You're as tall as your mother, though, so maybe not.

You can't stand being home much longer. Strike that; it's a house, but it's not home. You have a home in the village that no one knows about. It is the home of the Magicals, who you wish desperately to be a part of. Your heart rules you; it always has. So this is where you make your home.

It is late at night. You throw the rope you keep coiled under your bed out the window and slither down, making sure to hide the strong cord in the flower beds, lest you be unable to get back in before sunup.

You're wearing trousers and a loose shirt, so your gender is ambiguous, and a floppy hat and shoes, so your identity as nobility is not known. Your sister will recognize you, though; she can spot you out of a crowd of a thousand noble women.

You approach the modest house on the outskirts of town and knock thrice, then once, the four times. The door opens a crack and, recognizing you, Jade opens the door the rest of the way. "Nepeta," she greets you. "How are you?"

"Horrible," you answer, a tad overdramatically.

"Why? What happened?" Jade asks. She is not psychic; she is simply magical. Only sylphs are both.

"She is betrothed," Rose answers, joining you and Jade. "To Eridan Ampora, I believe."

You nod.

"And you are in love with someone else?" Rose asks, tilting her head slightly to the side.

You nod once again. "I can't see that; it is very well hidden. Who?"

You shake your head. "I can't say," you force out, trying to compress the tears. You bury your head in your hands and sob, your shoulders shaking as the salty water trickles down your cheeks. You need to make your head take over your heart; letting your heart rule is killing you.

"Where is my sister?" you ask. She is a mage; surely she can help you.

"She is not yet back from the village," Rose answers.

"Who is here?" you persist.

"Kanaya," Rose answers immediately. You know that Rose left her town because she loved other women the way you love men. You see nothing wrong with this, but others did, so now Rose and Kanaya are a secret.

"Sollux, Terezi, Feferi, Damara, Kankri, and Aranea," Jade adds. "The others are on missions. Porrim is in another village."

"Isn't Porrim a maid?" you ask. You have always wondered this.

"She is, but she is part of us," Rose answers, somewhat cryptically. But you understand that Porrim is like you; she is not a Magical, but this is her home.

Many of the others are thieves or rogues; those who work in the night to fulfill the magical destiny in their blood. Mages and sylphs and witches and seers work in the village during the day, selling herbs or food or medicine in the front but magic in the back. They are the ones who sleep during the night and work during the day. If you were a Magical, you would be one who is awake at night and sleeps in the day.

"You still have the chance to join us if you like," Jade offers, and you can tell that her offer is as sincere as it has been every time before.

"I have a duty to my family," you say. "I am the only child left and my mother can't have any more children. I wish I didn't, but…" You sigh. You feel horrible. You feel like a horrible daughter and a horrible friend. You feel sick and sore, and your friends who try to help just make it worse. You know they mean well, but you just can't help how much you wish you could disappear from your old life and be a Magical for the rest of your life and it hurts.

The knock on the door. Thrice, once, four times. Jade opens the heavy wooden door again to see Aranea, who looks exhausted. "I was nearly caught," she says, stumbling in. She clearly needs healing. "I need to see Kanaya." None can use their powers on themselves. Rose nods, walking upstairs. There are eight bedrooms for fifteen people; however, four of those people sleep in the day. Maybe one day, it will be five of sixteen.

You hear clinking from the kitchen and realize that someone is cooking. The smells fill the room, which is lit by the candles the thieves steal, and the realization that someone is cooking for their own family aches your heart. Your mother has never once cooked for your blood family. You have never cooked for the family you wish you were part of.

Aranea sits on the chair in the corner of the room. All the furniture in the house is a mishmash of stolen goods and bought items, creating a horribly clashing mess that you still love. Aranea looks at you curiously. "You don't have to leave your family to join us."

"You are my family," you answer.

"You don't have to leave your duty, then. You can do your duty during the day and work with us at night," she reinforces.

You shrug. You're too tired to think about it now. You need sleep and food before you choose. She sees your thoughts and responds aloud. "You have time to choose; three months before you have to leave."

You nod. You've been nodding a lot today.

"The meal is ready," Kankri calls from the kitchen. You smile, ready for food. Kankri is an excellent cook in fact, he is much better than any of the girls here. You find this vaguely ironic.

Tonight's meal is the usual: vegetable stew with some bread and water. It seems that either one of the daytime workers served a noble or one of the nighttime workers is very clever, because today there are potatoes, too, mashed with milk and magic-churned butter. It is a delicacy you suspect many of your friends have never tasted. You eat delicacies so often that it makes almost no impact on you anymore. Being nobility has its advantages.

Jade, Rose, Aranea, Kanaya, Sollux, Terezi, Feferi, and Damara are at the table with you. You want to wrap your arms around all of them and tell them that they all mean everything to you. With them, you no longer feel bound by your duty and by your blood. You feel freed.

Conversation continues over dinner, shifting to lighter topics. You sigh and smile, happy. All of your dearest friends are here with you, and you feel safe.

But it does not last.

"When does Meulin come home?" Kankri asks. He keeps tabs on everyone who is sent to other villages to search for Magicals.

"Tomorrow night," Rose answers. "She should be bringing money."

"I hope so. We are low on food and funds, and one of the beds is breaking down," Kankri points out.

"What of the Page of Hope?" Aranea asks. Everyone in the Magicals has a name like this; it incorporates the person's role and their strongest aspect. Your sister is a Mage, and she has a strong heart, so she is the Mage of Heart. You have spent many idle days imagining what your title would be.

"Nepeta, will you please tell us what's wrong?" Terezi asks. "You're never this quiet; I'm worried."

"I'm engaged," you choke.

"To whom?" Terezi asks. She could see the mind, but not the heart.

"Eridan Ampora," you answer sadly. "The wedding is in three months."

Terezi nods understandingly. "We could help you," she says. "An accident, perhaps?"

"I have a duty," you tell her. "I'm the only child."

"But can't you tell your parents what's wrong?" Terezi persists.

"I'm a disappointment anyways. What's the point in making it worse?" you lament.

"Don't think like that!" Aranea exclaims. "You don't have to give up anything, or abandon your duty. You can be part of the Underground."

"What's that?" you ask curiously. It sounds promising.

"It's the nobles and royalty who are Magicals. There are many of them. They all have titles, as we do, that match their roles. But...you don't seem like a Maid to me, and that is the title that applies to you," Aranea explains.

"I could be a Rogue," you say. "I could work here at night and at my house during the day."

"A Rogue," Terezi says, tasting the word as she does since she is blind. "A Rogue of what?"

"Heart," you answer. Your heart rules you; love wins over duty for you far too often.

"Rogue of Heart," Kanaya says, contemplating the title. "It is excellent for you."

You nod in thanks. "You must choose," Rose says. "Will you be our Rogue of Heart?"

You think. You look around the table, where all your friends, your real family members, sit. You contemplate your choices. You could follow only your duty, and marry a man you do not love, and live out a normal, miserable life. Or, you could join this group of outlaws and live for real and have a chance to marry the one you truly love. "Yes," you say. "I'm going to be a Magical." There is no real choice here; you are going rogue.