Technically this is Kingdom Hearts fanfiction, but I felt since it focuses more on Mickey and Minnie, it's better suited in the Disney section. It was originally going a short story for my 100 choices challenge, but the ideas for this piece got bigger and needed to be in a multiple chapter deal. This story takes place before the games (and possibly before Birth by Sleep, but I aint waiting for that game to come to America before I can write this.) where Mickey wasn't a king yet, just a prince, and falls in love with Minnie. Enjoy.
And sorry about the bunched look of this, I don't know why it won't let me double space this. Once again, if you know how to make it do that, let me know and I'd be more than happy to delete and resubmit this so it'd be easier to read. Disney belongs to Disney and all that.
The steamboat was his favorite 'ride' in the entire kingdom. The second his feet touched those wooden panels, all of his troubles and worries slipped away. There would be nothing else but the almost melodic noise of the emerging steam, and watching the reflections on the water's surface. He could spend hours there… and that was the plan today.
Whether Yensid liked it or not.
The young prince Michael Mouse (Mickey, he insisted!) held his breath as he leaned against the castle wall, as if somehow that would make him invisible to his mentor's eyes. He counted to five in his head before he dared to take a peek around the corner… it seemed like the coast was clear. He released his breath with great relief, and resumed his journey to the window. If he could make it there, he could get to the gardens. If he could get to the gardens, he could slip into the town. If he could slip into the town, it would just be a hop, skip, and a jump to the steamboat.
Despite not hearing or seeing the grumpy old wizard, Mickey took precaution, using tiny tip-toe movements towards the window. Just a few more steps, and there would be sweet, sweet freedom. No lectures, no glares, no more nonsense about losing hearts-
And that freedom suddenly seemed to shatter once he felt a hand on his left shoulder. A startled yelp escaped his throat, and he began to turn around in hesitation. But the anxiety he felt vanished when he realized he hadn't been stopped by Yensid, but by his best friend, and royal mage, Donald Duck. He didn't look pleased at his prince, but then, Donald wasn't known for his bouts of happiness.
"Your highness." He addressed, arms now crossed.
"Aw, come on, Donald." Mickey smiled at him, trying to lighten the situation. "I told you that you can still call me Mickey. Just because you and Goofy are members of the castle service doesn't mean you have to treat me any differently." It just felt strange for his childhood friends to suddenly start treating him as a superior. Just another thing on the long list of things he didn't like about being a prince.
"It's my job!" The fowl snapped, now tapping a webbed foot on the floor. "Me and Goofy are supposed to serve and protect you, and that gets hard when there's no prince to protect!" He pointed an accusing finger at the window, as if it was the accomplice.
Mickey's smile faded away, allowing him to groan in exasperation. "It was just going to be for a few hours! The whole kingdom isn't gunna collapse if I'm gone that long!"
Now the finger pointed off to the hallway, from whence Mickey had come from. "You are going to Yensid's lesson, and go do… whatever it is you do with him!" The meetings were of utmost privacy, and no one really knew what happened between Yensid and Mickey. There were rumors about some kind of weapon only Mickey could use, but Donald never paid attention to such things. But they had to be important, so Mickey had to go.
An idea came to the mouse. Not one he particularly liked, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He shrugged heavily, slowly beginning to lean towards the window. "All right, Donald, if you insist..." And then he suddenly pointed right past Donald to the opposite hallway, his face in shock. "Gosh, when did my dad hire those pretty maids?"
"What?!" Instantly, the duck looked in the false direction, Yensid almost entirely forgotten. "Where?!" He frantically began to run for the girls, which, after a few dashes, he realized did not exist. Cheeks flushing with humiliation, he whipped around to try and go after Mickey – and see if he could get away with punching the prince – only to find the window open, and no mouse around. The classic temper tantrum that followed soon after could nearly be heard by the entire castle.
Somewhere, Goofy laughed.
What a rush! Fresh wind, the smell of flowers, the talk of people… The escapist slowed down in order to let it all sink in. How he missed these sensations from his youth, when he had been allowed to freely roam with his friends. He was now in the town, where only a few people seemed perplexed to see him. The majority of the townsfolk felt the prince's runaways were common knowledge, and that little could be done to stop him. He would sometimes wave or say hello, maybe even buy a few things to help some people along. He loved the people, and they loved him.
It wasn't as if he hated Yensid. Outside of the tedious lessons, Yensid had a gentleness that almost seemed fatherly. It was obvious he had Mickey and the kingdom's best interests at heart. Nor did Mickey hate his father, the last of his family, who had been ordered to bed rest for his declining health. Even with such restrictions, he found the time to eat and laugh with his son, slipping shades of wisdoms into the stories he weaved for his boy. Hate didn't come to his best friends, either. Goofy and Donald still regarded him as their companion, and were honored to do whatever it took to keep him safe. So, logically, Mickey lacked for nothing.
So why did he still feel a need for that steamboat?
He stopped where he was in his walk, taking a long, good look at the scenery around him. People bustling to and fro, businesses flourishing, children playing, and yet amidst all of this fortune, the young prince still didn't feel… Well, he couldn't really find a word for it. Complete? Whole? They just didn't seem to cover what he was missing, what he sought out for when he got on the boat. Yet he couldn't describe what the ride gave him either. As he continued to look, as if somehow that would give him the answers he needed, he noticed a small clock right above a small eatery, and realized…
He was late! The boat was going to leave without him!
Nearly tripping over his big yellow shoes, he made a bolt forward, trying to go as fast as he can. In his panic, he focused too much on the memorized path in his mind, and not the actual path he was treading in reality. Because he wasn't watching where he was going, he didn't notice the two people directly in his way – and before he could register what had happened, his body went smack into a suitcase almost bigger than himself, and he did an almost ballerina-like twirl as it popped open, clothes flying all over, while the prince wound up on his back on the ground, staring up at the sky. Only a few clouds here and there, not really 'shape-guessing' weather, was the second thought that went through his mind.
Ow was the first.
"Whoa, there, sonny boy!" a voice called out to him, with a thick country accent. "You all right?" Now the owner of the voice was in his view, leaning over the prince. It was another mouse, but far, far taller, with old whiskers growing out of his chin. He had on a sailor's hat with washed away colors, matching the rest of his outfit, with tired white and blue stripes… a look that said this casual sailor had been casual for way too long. The old man offered a hand towards Mickey, which was taken as he steadily tried to stand up.
"I think so…" He replied, rubbing a sore spot on his head. He did a slow turn, assessing the damage he'd done, and began to pick up the clothes. "Gosh, I'm really sorry about this! I should've been way more careful."
The old man cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "Appreciate the help, boy, but, uh, I really do think you should let me handle it… Young fellas like yourself shouldn't be touchin' lil' missy things." He jerked a thumb towards his right side, where Mickey saw no one, until he looked down to about the prince's own height.
Perhaps to anyone outside of this meeting, the boy and girl that were staring at each other could have been twins separated at birth. The same height, the same color fur, they even had similar eyes. But to Mickey, he had never seen anything like her before. Girls, women, yes, but this? This adorable little thing, trying to heighten herself in red heels… gloves hands holding each other… a red dress with polka dots that, while covering her lower half, he swear he caught a glimpse of frilly white panties (and would also later swear to himself that he was not looking there on purpose)… red again on the top of her head as a bow, laced with black hair that she seemed to be experimentally growing out, see if it looked out, see if it didn't… A petite face, with long lashes, a hint here and there of make-up, a muzzle a shade lighter than his own, and a little mouth that was…
… frowning for a reason he couldn't grasp right away.
It wasn't until the old man cleared his throat again that Mickey looked down at his own hands, and realized that in his help to pick up what had spilled, he was now holding onto a pair of white panties (similar to the ones he would swear he was not looking there on purpose) that he had a good feeling didn't belong to the old man. One could say karma delivered a nice kick to his rear as his face turned a red that he had helped Donald get earlier, quickly shoving the undergarments into the girl's arms, voice grasping at straws for the right apology. "I-I-I didn't mean… I wasn't trying to… See, I was just…" He flailed his arms, trying to explain his thinking, only to continue stammering with an unfamiliar yet strong urge to make this girl understand. "I didn't even want… Not, not that they're not pretty… Not that I was looking! I mean, I guess, I had to be looking, at you… Not staring! I'm not that kind of guy!"
The old man had begun to pick up the rest of the scattered clothes, while the girl continued to watch the performance. Her frowning lips pressed a little, then suddenly turned upward, and little melodic bursts came out… The sweetest giggling he had ever heard. She put one hand to her mouth, trying to contain herself, but it didn't do any good, as she continued making that harmonious sound, over and over. Why he didn't mind her laughing at him, he couldn't really comprehend, although he assumed it was better than her being angry with him. When she finally seemed to have some control of herself, she looked to the old man who had finished packing. "Uncle Monty, is everyone in town like this?"
The old man – Uncle Monty - held up his suitcase with an amused expression. "I hope not, or this suitcase is going to be broke 'fore the day is over." Once again he held out a hand towards Mickey, this time as a greeting. "Name's, well, Monty. This is my niece, Minerva."
"Uncle!" The girl – Minerva- pouted at him, displeased. "I told you to stop telling people that. Minvera is…" She mentally searched for a good excuse, and half heartedly settled on "… for an older woman." She looked back to Mickey, suddenly all sweetness again. "My name is Minnie." She curtseyed to try and make up for her uncle's 'mistake'.
Mickey shook Monty's hand, but his eyes stayed on the girl, Minvera, Minnie, miniature mouse, she was so cute. "I'm… Mickey Mouse." He smiled at the both of them – her, really – as he let go of the hand. "You two have to be new around here, I've never seen you before, and I practically know everyone here."
"Right on the money, boy." Monty puffed out his chest proudly. "Me and my niece, we're travelers! We've been all over the world, and then some!" He beat a fist on his chest for emphasis. "I've only been this place once, when I was about your age… and I gotta say, aint changed much." This apparently met with approval, as he nodded. "We were lookin' for some lodgin'."
"How long are you staying?" Mickey asked, again by the way he was looking was just looking at Minnie.
She shrugged one shoulder, glancing to her Uncle for agreement. "We're not sure… sometimes we only stay in place a few days, sometimes a month… It depends on how much we like the place we're in."
"And I say we're in for a good long haul!"Monty proclaimed, looking triumphant again. But something seemed to dawn on him, as he looked at Mickey with confusion. "By the way… what were you in such a rush for in the first place?"
Mickey blinked, trying to recall what had started this mess in the first place. It had suddenly seemed so unimportant… it took a few tries, but he finally recalled the steamboat ride. "Oh! That's right! I was…" He turned his head away, with the intention of going, but couldn't really turn himself away from Minnie. He instead tossed a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nevermind, its long gone by now. I'll catch it another time. Now, uh, about your lodging…?"
"Don't you worry your little head, we already got a place in mind." With that, he took his niece's hand, intending to lead her away. "Speakin' a which, we best get goin' to meet our reservation. Nice meetin' you, boy!"
"See you, Mickey!" Minnie chimed in, waving at him as the two began to go further and further in the distance and out of Mickey's vision.
Mickey returned the wave, a rather silly look upon his face. He continued to wave even when Minnie was clearly gone, when a shadow loomed over him, when Yensid dragged him by his tail back to the palace and berated him for running away, still continued to wave at the girl, Minerva, Minnie, miniature mouse, she was so cute.
End Of Chapter One.