Dancing Through the Night, the Story of Ramona Badwolf and Justine Dancer
Ramona sat in the waiting area outside the headmaster's office and pretended to read something on her mirrorphone. Her sharp ears could pick up the sound of the Grimm Brothers' argument through the door.
Giles was insisting that the story of Snow White had been completed. Darling Charming had woken Apple White up in the enchanted forest with true love's kiss. Raven Queen was a magic mirror. The O'Hair twins, Ashylnn, Maddie, and the three forest pixies were dwarves. It sounded like a lot of nonsense to Ramona.
But then Milton kept arguing that Daring Charming must be the Apple White's prince, and that when Raven Queen finally accepts her role they would be able to perform the story.
Ramona very vividly remembered the second time she ever talked to Apple White. She'd tried to give the girl a large berth when they crossed paths in an empty hall, but Apple cut straight through it and clutched both of Ramona's hands in the princess-y way she always did. "Oh, look at you Ramona," she said.
Ramona remembered the words perfectly, because it was such a strange moment.
Apple then did exactly what she said; she slowly and steadily raked her eyes over Ramona from toe to head. "So tough and strong and bad. Oh yes, you're such a bad, bad girl." Apple sighed. "If only Raven could be more like you."
Apple having a prince instead of princess in her happily ever after was even more nonsensical than four pretty girls counting as dwarves.
Eventually Giles gave up and left. He looked even more frazzled than usual from trying to get new ideas through his brother's thick skull. A few moments later the headmaster called her into the office.
"Miss Badwolf. It has been brought to my attention that several bottles of wine have gone missing from the kitchen. After a thorough investigation, we have determined that it must have been you. We've found several strands of your hair at the scene."
Ramona hadn't stolen any wine. She argued her case but the headmaster wouldn't listen to any excuses, alibis, or the truth. This wasn't a trial, and Ramona knew that. Princes and princesses got hearings to argue their innocence; villains were just sent to detention, or worse. Ramona wasn't much of a thinker but she had a sharp enough nose to recognize bullshit when she could smell it. The villains were told they had to break the rules, but were still punished when they did.
Try to do good? One time Apple had forgotten a book in her room. After glancing around the classroom and spotting the fastest girl in the school, she batted her eyelashes. Ramona had trouble resisting pretty eyes and long eyelashes. Plus she was certain Apple, and a few other princesses, had some sort of magical control over wildlife. Why not, Ramona had thought, it'll only take me a few seconds. Milton Grimm gave her a detention for being helpful. Ramona got punished, for anything, everything, and nothing.
There was a growing movement of royal villains who cried out at what they called 'systemic bullying.' Ramona had been asked to join them, but she didn't care about things like that– philosophy or sociology or whatever the hell they called it. She decided she would rather spend her free time actually enjoying life. A bunch of angry high school students weren't going to change anything anyway. There were too many important people that 'held the utmost respect for Milton Grimm.' He was, after all, perfectly nice to future kings and queens.
"I'm afraid we'll have no choice but to return you to the Dark Forest Reform School."
"Fuck that," Ramona growled. "I'm innocent."
"Ramona, you really set a fine example for villains. With all this rebel nonsense going around, It'll be a shame we won't have you to show the younger students how to behave. I'm very proud of what you've become."
Grimm told her it would be a week before the paperwork was finalized and if she was really innocent, which he said with a scoff, that he would need proof before then. Otherwise it would be back to the dark forest. Back to lonely nights sleeping beneath the stars because the dirt was more comfortable to the beds in the repurposed dungeon cells they called dorm rooms. Back to hunting her own meals because she didn't want to eat the slime and mushrooms the trolls and swamp creatures ate. Back to missing her sister and her father and wondering the next time she'd be able to run with her pack.
Ramona started by visiting the crime scene in the pantry. The only clear scents were the most recent, Milton Grimm and Miss Trollsworth. The others were too old and too numerous for her track, so no help at all.
There were at least several obvious suspects. She found Blondie Locks near the front of the school, where the reporter was stalking Darling and Apple to get a scoop on what was going on between them. Ramona offered an exchange of information but Blondie had nothing to tell her about the alcohol. When she found Sparrow Hood, a quick growl made him cower at her feet and promise he hadn't stolen it. Briar didn't need to be pressed for answers; she calmly told Ramona that she hadn't thrown any parties wild enough for booze, and if she had Ramona would have definitely received an invite.
Ramona decided to take a break. She wasn't used to being emotionally exhausted and, not recognizing it, figured she was just unusually tired. One of Ramona's favorite spots to nap on campus was at the base of old oak tree on a hill a little ways off the path to the dark forest. She'd carved her name into the bark with her nails to claim it as her own. In the morning the sun hit the grass hard, drying the morning dew and keeping it warm, and in the afternoon, it was shady and cool. The breeze from the paths carried up and when Cerise went into the forest Ramona would always catch her scent and be able to join her.
There was another perk of the spot; it could be seen from the hall outside the school's dance studio. Justine had noticed Ramona lounging restlessly and sat on the grass beside her.
Headmaster Grimm had sent Ramona to reform school the first time for fooling around with Kitty behind the bleachers during a bookball game. The truth ended up mixed in with a lot of other rumors, but when she had returned Ramona expected to continue living alone. Not only was she a villain, but now there were whispers she was a lesbian villain. She was surprised to find out that Justine Dancer, whom Ramona had never even heard of, had volunteered to live with her.
Luckily the living situation suited Ramona well. Some roommates were bound at the hip, like Raven and Apple. They'd always extend invitations to the other for anything and everything, and ended up without much alone time. Then there were roommates like Faybelle and Bunny, who had set rules for the room and then never spoke again.
Justine and Ramona fell somewhere in between those extremes. They each gave the other a little support, but when Ramona wanted to wander the forest or Justine just wanted to practice her dancing in solitude, they would give the other space. It had grown into a easy and reliable friendship. It was low-maintenance enough to overcome the pricklier parts of Ramona's personality.
"What's the matter?" Justine asked.
"Might get sent back to reform school."
"You uh, get caught chasing cats again?"
Ramona explained that she hadn't done anything. Justine just nodded, knowing that most of the fear surrounding Ramona was just reputation and expectation. She didn't lean into it the way Faybelle did, or fight it like Raven. Ramona was usually more bark than bite.
"Roll over," Justine said.
"Not this again."
"Yes, this again." Justine put her hands on her hips, and gave her a stern look. "Come on miss big bad wolf. You know it'll make you feel better."
Ramona gave in and did as she was told. Justine cracked her knuckles and began to give her a back massage. It was not gentle, at all. Justine was a dancer, and the massages she gave were practical and mechanical. They kept muscles loose and flexible, but weren't really relaxing. Ramona just liked having her back rubbed. She refused to think of it as being pet.
Justine's support got Ramona's blood pumping again, but the investigation didn't progress any more that night, or the following morning. As the day crept by, a smell started to invade Ramona's nose. It was the pungent stench of a swamp seeping out of her memories. She wasn't used to being tense, or afraid. Like most wolves and dogs, anxiety and fear made her more aggressive. That only made the other students more afraid of her.
Cerise recognized what Ramona was really feeling. "Need any help?" she offered when they finally got a moment alone.
Ramona eyed the worried shift of Cerise's eyes.
When they were children they would often sneak out of their homes and meet in the woods. Once, during a race, Cerise accidently bumped into Ramona and sent her tumbling to into a root. Ramona had sprained her ankle and skinned her knee, but Cerise was the only one who cried on their way back. Cerise had avoided her for a week afterwards.
Ramona knew her sister well enough. She couldn't ask Cerise for help. If she did, and they failed, Cerise would be able to blame herself for splitting up their family. Ramona loved her sister too much to allow that.
"Don't worry your pretty little hood. I'm a lone wolf."
"Ugh. I don't know why I even bother."
Ramona shrugged, then tucked her hands across her chest. "Wouldn't mind going for a run later, though."
"Well why don't you go by yourself? You're a lone wolf, aren't you?" Cerise grumbled and growled as she stalked off.
Ramona took a slow deep breath and nodded to herself.
That night, a constant slow pounding sound woke Ramona up. She threw the door open and found a tired and grumpy Faybelle with a fist still raised in the air.
"The hell do you want?"
"Fuck if I know," Faybelle said.
Ramona examined the future dark fairy closely. Through her drooping lids, Faybelle's eyes glowed yellow, and her voice was flatter than usual. The oddest thing was that she didn't smell like Faybelle; she smelled like musty paper and ink.
"I stole this. I have to give it you, or I won't be able to go to sleep."
She handed Ramona a mass of folded black cloth and left without another word. When she unfolded it, she realized it was the magic cloak that Raven used to turn near invisible at night. Ramona had smelled Raven using it several times, but her sharper than normal nightvision still couldn't pick up more than an odd shadow.
Ramona started to return to bed, but she noticed that Justine's bed was empty. The bedspread was rustled and open, and her usual nightdress was folded neatly on nightstand. She changed out of her pajamas, threw the cloak over her shoulders, caught the trail of her roommate's perfume, and followed it out into the night.
The moon was full and bright, a taskmaster that whipped Ramona into a frenzy with harsh silver beams the moment she got outside. She released a sharp, high howl into the air and took off sprinting. She cut straight through the brush and bramble of the enchanted forest, leaping over fallen logs and diving beneath low hanging branches.
She slowed as she came to a clearing and heard the din of music and chatter. The circle of trees were wrapped with vines whose flowers glowed gold, gently illuminating the short grass. A little over two dozen people crowded the center, dancing to songs pumping from a boombox that had been wedged into the branches of one of the trees.
Ramona secured the cloak so it sat more tightly on her shoulders and began to circle around the clearing. The partygoers were older; still what Ramona would call young adults, but not teenagers. There were half empty bottles lining the edge of the clearing, sitting on every flat surface. Around the back end, there was a table loaded with beer and bottles of harder alcohol.
Justine was talking to someone who, from smell and appearance, must have been her sister. Ramona took a closer look around the party and realized the women were Justine's eleven older sisters.
"Got the cover charge?" the sister asked.
Justine held out a bottle of wine. It was meant for cooking, but her older sister took it anyway. Ramona figured it was mostly symbolic; there was enough liquor on the table for a week of parties.
"Good job. I know this must have been tough on you, but we all had to do it when we were your age. Now go enjoy yourself."
Justine was swept into the music and the party. Justine often told Ramona that Duchess was the best ballet dancer in the school, but Ramona was certain that the prissy goose couldn't move the way Justine did. Her body rolled and wiggled to the quick modern beat. Her dark skin, sweat slick, shined in the low light. The music had a pulse and Justine wasn't just synced with it, she was part of it. A physical form for the sound.
Through the night, Justine's sisters threw boy after boy her way, and each was a scarecrow on the dancefloor compared to her. Ramona knew they were probably fine dancers, but anyone would look comically stiff compared to Justine. She'd dance, and they'd tire, and they'd give up.
Ramona took a few pictures on her mirrorphone and a couple of short recordings. She didn't say anything about it the next day, choosing instead to go off into the woods by herself and roaming for miles; she skirted the edge of the territory she had eked out in the dark forest. When night fell she followed Justine to the party again.
Justine didn't drink any of the alcohol, and she was indifferent to the attention of the boys. She stopped to talk to her sisters every chance she could, and It was only during those moments that she looked genuinely happy. They were the twelve dancing princesses being what they were meant to be.
The third night there was a new boy. He wore a tight and formal red jacket with gold buttons and cuffs that matched well with Justine's yellow dress and was, surprisingly, a perfect match for Justine's skills as a dancer.
The playlist that night was slower and sweeter, and the sisters all kept glancing their way and giggling into their hands as the two rocked together through the night. It was obvious to everyone watching that the way they moved together was perfect. He was a perfect dancing prince for a perfect dancing princess. It would have been absolutely perfect if Justine didn't look even more uncomfortable than she had with any of the other boys. When he extended an elbow for Justine to take so that they could walk through the woods, Justine's sisters eagerly urged her to go.
Ramona followed close behind as the future couple chatted and strolled away into the forest. There was just something off, and even Ramona couldn't figure out what. She kept to the shadows, and didn't know why she was following or why she was so unhappy.
The boy sat Justine down on a old hearty log that had tipped by a lightning strike. Fireflies whizzed around their feet, and the mushrooms sprouting on the log glowed a gentle pale green.
Justine wasn't being warm, or open, or really anything but distant. The boy was apparently much better at dancing than he was at reading moods and must have mistaken her disinterest for shyness. He leaned to kiss her and was rejected, and he leaned in again, and again, and again, each time with a little more force that was met with a more insistent refusal.
Ramona ground her fangs into her lips a little harder with each attempt the boy made. Something bubbled low and deep in her chest, something animalistic and dark. Justine was her emotional support. Justine was a member of her pack. Justine was supposed to be hers.
Ramona released that dark feeling as a howl that pierced the night air, and a few other wolves answered from the other side of the forest. Ramona recognized Carmine and Cerise in the chorus of voices.
The boy stopped and peered out through the trees. Ramona knew he could see her glowing amber eyes in the darkness. He sprung away, sprinting frantically back towards the clearing and the party and the safety of a group, and left his date alone and trembling.
Justine didn't settle until she saw Ramona step out from the darkness. "Thank you," she eventually managed to say.
Face to face with Justine, Ramona swallowed the rest of the possessiveness that hadn't been released in her howl. "Don't sweat it. I'll walk you back."
Justine nodded but didn't move. "There's um– something I want to tell you."
There was a moment of silence that stretched into a minute of silence. "I'm going. If you've got something to say, say it walking."
Justine followed her, quietly at first, but eventually she opened up. She talked about how much she loves her sisters, and that because there was such a large gap in their ages they never got to spend that much time together. Now that she was old enough and her destiny was secure, she could join their secret parties.
Which was why she had stolen the wine.
Then she talked about how her sisters were always trying to set her up with boys. The twelve dancing princesses, after all, weren't exactly pure maidens like some of the other fairy tales. Ramona had never read the story but knew from one of Duchess's jealous rants that they were just on the borderline of being villains. Still, Ramona couldn't even imagine trying to push a boy onto Cerise. She would sooner rip out a wannabe suitor's throat.
By the time Justine seemed to finish talking, they were back in their room. Ramona was already in the process of changing when Justine froze up and took a deep breath.
"Really, he wasn't a bad guy," she said. "But I– I'm actually like you."
"Huh?"
"I'm uh– I chase cats too."
"Oh. Oh! Okay."
Justine crossed the room and the orange peel in her perfume got stronger. The scent reminded Ramona of all those times she'd awoken beneath her favorite tree with Justine smiling down at her, the afternoon light spilling through her dark curls like they were the canopy of a forest. Her heavy, gold-shaded eyelids were always drawn low to half hide the dark emerald irises.
Ramona realized she thought Justine was fucking gorgeous and was now standing less than a foot away from her.
"Is that all?"
Ramona shrugged. "How could I disapprove."
"Of course you wouldn't. That wasn't why I was too nervous to tell you."
Justine crept closer and closer. She reached her hands out. Ramona had frozen with her shirt half off, tangled over her arms, and Justine ran her fingers gently along the muscles of Ramona's bare shoulders.
"This is a bad idea," Ramona said.
"I can still feel his hands on me," Justine said. "I think I'd sleep better– with you."
"I can see the way you're looking at me. We won't get much sleep."
Justine smiled. "You're damn right we won't."
Ramona was so surprised she didn't react when Justine began to force kiss after kiss on her. Ramona was certain she knew why this was happening: Justine needed to feel like the one in control. That knowledge didn't sit quite right, but the kisses felt perfect and Ramona couldn't fight it.
Justine suddenly gave her a shove that sent Ramona tumbling onto her bed. Justine had a dancer's body, and a modern dancer's fitness, and a ballet dancer's power. She flipped Ramona over, who was still too stunned to put up a fight if she had even wanted to, so that her stomach was resting on the edge of the bed and her legs were sprawled out down to the floor.
Justine hiked Ramona's skirt up, and tugged down her leggings just enough to make it hard for her to spread her legs. Ramona felt a single nail draw up the exposed flesh of her ass, then down along her lower lips.
Things had gone too far and Ramona was about to say something to stop it, but Justine dropped her weight down onto Ramona's back. She brushed away the hair from Ramona's ear and whispered, "I've wanted to do this for so long."
Ramona squeezed her eyes tightly. "How long?"
"Since I found out you were looking after me while I was sleepwalking. Everyone else may think you're a villain, but you'll always be my hero. Can I?"
After a long pause, Ramona said yes.
Justine slid a hand under Ramona, with a quick thrust entered her, and made her cry out a second yes. Just like with her massages, it was not gentle, at all. With each upward thrust Justine ground her hips, forcing herself deeper into Ramona.
It felt much much better than the massages ever did. When she was with Kitty and the other wolf girls at the reform school, she was never on the receiving end. She was just too big and bad and dominant.
Justine sat up and used her free hand to grip the back of Ramona's neck.. She wasn't the strongest girl, but she had perfect control of her body. The motion of every one of her muscles was focused and powerful, like a ballet dancer forcing herself into the air from the tiny tip of her foot, except this power was all driven into Ramona's most sensitive places. The bed scraped a little across the floor with each thrust. And, of course, Justine's sense of rhythm was perfect.
Ramona buried her face into the tangled fabric of shirt that still bound her arms to keep from crying out. She was enjoying it, but she didn't want to give Justine the satisfaction of knowing how much. But with each moment it became harder and harder and harder. She bit hard, shredding the fabric and clamping down onto her forearm.
The pain made a hot, condensed feral instinct begin to fill her veins. It exerted so, so much pressure, and Ramona felt full to the point of bursting.
Justine released her neck, knotted her fingers into Ramona's thick mane of hair, and tugged in perfect time with the hardest thrust yet.
Ramona tasted blood and her whole body convulsed with a wild jerk. She was, for a moment, nothing but the animal she tried so hard not to be.
Ramona knew there was no way Justine hadn't heard the grunt, or the felt the wave of sudden contraction through her muscles. The girl who had mounted her collapsed down onto Ramona's back, and began to trace up to her neck with a series of gentle kisses.
"I love you," Justine said.
Ramona didn't say anything. She just turned her head and gave Justine a gentle kiss on the lips. Both kept their eyes firmly closed, and didn't notice the little spark of yellow light.
When the time came, Ramona accepted her punishment without argument. She spent her final days locked in her room with Justine, skipping class and alternating between making love and long talks about everything but the reason Ramona was being expelled. But eventually the rumor mill caught wind of the truth. Justine found out that it was her fault from Blondie's mirrorcast.
From then on, they did nothing but argue. Justine insisted that she wouldn't be punished as harshly if she confessed. Ramona reminded her that if Grimm found out, there was no way she would get to see her sisters until after she graduated. Justine usually ended up crying, and Ramona steeled herself against her tears and reminded herself she was making the right decision. Ramona was going to protect her new girlfriend from the loneliness she herself understood all too well.
Justine even snuck out and tried to tell the headmaster about the parties. He didn't accept the confession. He was convinced that she was just trying to cover for Ramona. There was no evidence left; during one of the fights Ramona made a big show of deleting every last video and photo on her mirrorphone.
They hadn't stopped fighting, and Ramona was never able to tell Justine when she was leaving. She didn't want a big goodbye, especially an unhappy one. One morning she was just gone.
Someone unexpected approached her while she was on her way out of the school. Giles Grimm handed her a book and told her to read the marked story. "Remember, eventually the stories will always end they way they're meant to. Things will be fine, Miss Badwolf."
She set off into the woods all by herself without a single farewell, having ignored the messages she had gotten from Cerise and Faybelle. Halfway through the dark forest, Ramona stretched out in the tangled roots of an old oak tree. When the boringness of reading sounded better than the boringness of doing nothing, she cracked open the book to the dog eared page.
It was Justine's story: "The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces." Ramona read it for the first time. By the end, her lips were securely tugged into a smirk.