Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait, I wrote this the day after the last chapter and then reworked it in first person because this seems like it's the way it always should have been. Sorry about the tense switch, expect Peach's perspective from here on out. Also, while this chapter feels like it might be rated M, it's sticking to T.
The pizza slice pulls away from my lips leaving the searing pain of hot cheese and sauce in my mouth. It hurts bad enough that I can barely taste the food, but Mario tried to warn me. After the shock of my proposal wore off Luigi insisted that we celebrate. He took me shopping for this sleek red dress (that I love) and insisted that we go out for my favorite type of food: pizza.
Grimaldis, I think is this place's name and the brothers have chosen right again, because it's amazing.
And the food is a welcome distraction from worrying about if my people are in bondage or worse or if I'll ever be able to get back home to find out. I keep my smile up because it's what I've always done. Mario and Luigi and a whole kingdom depend on me being level headed.
Luigi folded his slice together and took a bite out to it, some sauce clung to his mustache. "How much work do you need to do to make preparations for the nuptials?" He asks.
"It needs to be official. We can't rush any of it. And it has to take place in my world since there needs to be the right kind of witnesses and all that. Daisy of course will be my right hand and I'm sure Mario is going to have you as his—" at my mention of Daisy Luigi looks sad and I wonder if something has happened.
Mario didn't seem to notice. "This is going to be difficult to explain to you-know-who," he says eyeing Luigi.
"Who?"
Luigi shakes his head. "Mama hasn't ever liked any girls we've brought home. She flung a spoon full of pesto and olive oil right on my prom date's dress. I swear she did it intentionally."
"There's a story that goes," Mario starts before plucking a loose sausage off the pan and eating it. "When mama and dad were still in high school he kissed another girl when he first started seeing her. She found out and beat him and the girl up. After that he was begging for a second chance."
They're making hard not to freak out. I try to steer the conversation away from these terrifying stories. "Where do you think we should have it?"
Mario nods. "New Donk, big city, hard for Bowser or anyone else to sneak in there and muck things up," he says around a bite of pizza.
"New Donk is fine and it's wonderful that you're taking security into consideration, but Mario, Bowser is going to probably be there of my own accord."
"What, why?" asks Luigi.
"He's a ruler of the Koopa's and as a king he has a right to request to be there. We could insist and fight him on it, but it won't be worth all of the commotion." There's something brewing beneath the surface that Mario still wants to say, but when things get like this he'll usually drop them. "I can try to stop him from being there, if that's what you really want." I'm overly diplomatic. Maybe I give too much.
Mario shakes his head. "I understand customs are customs."
"It's just—there was a time after the Great War where all the Kingdoms stood together. The Koopa Kingdom and the Mushroom Kingdom were allies and the goombas were a migrant tribe within the Mushroom Kingdom." I touch my hand to my chest. "You have this idea of me as the Toadstool ruler, but going back hundreds of years there have been many princesses and queens and some of them did terrible things. My grandmother, my mother, and I have tried to carry on the cycle of healing from that…"
"Hey-hey, we get it. We're Americans, we know a thing or two about conflicting morality," Luigi says.
Maybe I got too invested in my lecture. Breath deep. Exhale. "I don't want to make everyone feel miserable. I'm just explaining…"
Mario's warm hand finds mine under the table. No gloves and nothing between us. No matter what happens that's going to be us some day. Husband and wife. King and Queen.
After dinner Mario and I went for a walk. Luigi caught an Uber home, but the rest of the night if anyone brought up Daisy he seemed sad. It slowly dawned on me that with the Mushroom Kingdom out of reach, Daisy was out of reach too. We had no idea of knowing if she was even okay.
Goodness. What if this enemy posed a threat to the whole world or could even reach out to the Earth?
"We've got to find another warp zone," I say pulling Mario around until he is facing me. "I just wish there was some clue where to look."
He kisses me, despite the garlic breath. "We'll find something. For now the best thing you can do is rest."
Rest is about the last thing I can think of right now.
"We'll figure out who did this, but I want you to promise me you'll be careful," Mario adds.
"I have to. I have people depending on me."
Brooklyn at night is honestly beautiful. It reminds me of some of the outlying areas of New Donk that I've only ridden through. The continuous rains earlier in the day have left the streets wet and reflections from the lights of all the signs sparkles back up at us as we stroll down the block. In the far off distance there's a siren that dies out. I really have no idea how far away home is without the warp zone, but I'm shocked at how much Earth is like it. Rain has the same smell, people have the same look it's uncanny.
The silence in the air feels like a rope being pulled tighter and tighter until it's impossibly tight. Every moment that I say nothing it becomes harder to say anything. Now that Luigi's gone there's something I need to tell Mario. What was it? A rhythmic clicking echos from somewhere nearby. Off to my right I see its source: a white carriage with a pattern of raised metal vines decorating the sides being drawn by two gorgeous white horses. The horses shook their heads, their pristine manes flopping around. The driver that sat behind them was in a tuxedo and top hat with a red scarf wrapped about his neck.
I watch dumbfounded while they approach. By the time they're along side me Mario's hand wraps around my waist. Took him a bit to catch up. The driver pulls back on the reigns to bring them to an abrupt stop. "How are you two doing on this lovely night?"
"Oh Mario, they're simply wonderful!" I turn to him, clasping my hands together on his shoulder and forgetting my manners.
"Thank you," the driver says despite this.
"We're doing fine ourselves. How much is it for a ride?" Mario asks.
"Supposed to charge more for walk-ups," the driver says before turning to look at me. "But I'd hate to ruin a smile on such a beautiful face, so I'll give you the booked rate of sixty-nine dollars—don't have anyone booked right now anyway."
Mario reaches into the jacket pocket of his suit and fishes out a little clip with the kind of paper money that they use over here. He counts to eighty by twenty.
The driver steps down from his position and walks along the front side of the carriage to comfort the two horses. He gets close to them, speaking in a docile tone before coming back toward us. "My name is Jeff and I'll be your chauffeur this evening," he shakes Mario's hand, taking the money, and then takes my fingers lightly and gives a little bow.
It's funny the kind of things that can set something off inside of you. Jeff helps me into the carriage first and it's like I'm watching it all from the outside. The carriage seats are lavish purple velvet and the doors and the walls are lined with pillowy leather. Everything reminds me of status. Of position. Of royalty.
The drive goes on for several minutes and I try to look out across the city or find some distraction. "Are you okay?" Mario asks. I'm making some face, aren't I?
I nod at him, though it's taking everything in me not to bawl my eyes out. "I'm so happy about us finally…taking this big step and I'm just happy I have you, but how can I be happy with all that's going on? I feel guilty to be enjoying anything." I keep my voice down so as not to alert Jeff.
"Oh, I know the feeling. It's kind of like a…uh…survivor's guilt," Mario says. "Friend of mine died of a heart attack several year ago—he didn't even believe in using butter. Everything was lard. Anyway, I was real tore up. Luigi urged me to get up and go see this movie with him. It was a raunchy comedy thing and after a few minutes of trying so hard not to, I laughed until I cried. That's when my little brother told me a friend wouldn't have wanted me sad. And he's right, he'd have called me chicken-shit if he saw me moping around like that." Mario chuckled.
I give him a little peck on the cheek. "Thank you for always knowing the right thing." There's a moment where I know I need to tell him something, or maybe ask him. "Back there, did you and Luigi mean to scare me about your mother?"
"Ho-ho-oh no. That woman has a mouth on her and she's not taking bologna off of anyone, including my brother and me. Once you get to know her and you're in, she's kind as can be, but before that…" Mario just trails of making a face like he's whistling real hard.
"And you don't think I can wow her?" I ask.
"I'm honestly scared she'll get to know you and tell you that you're too good for me!"
"Oh, Mario," I say before flopping over to rest my head in his lap. "I already know I'm too good for you." I roll over to face him from below with this little innocent grin. It's apparently something that I'm good at, looking vacant, vain, or overly naive. Mario eats it up and he's laughing so hard that I'm laughing now. I try to stifle the worst of it behind my hand. But it just gets worse and there are tears running down my cheeks dampening his slacks.
"I love you, Mario." I get the words out as the last fits of laughter are dying out in me.
"I love you too." He dries the paths created by the tears away and lifts me only slightly to meet his lips. We had said these words in the past, but never with any kind of intensity like this. The first time it happened I gambled with the idea was after something so simple. He helped me paint my toenails. I liked to do it myself despite there being servants all around that would easily do it. But and he was doing it and just talking to me about nothing, I realized 'he loves me' and I said it first.
That was simple, it didn't have this raw weight to it the way the words did now. Someone or something had tried to kill me days ago and the chance to say those three words after that meant so much. But there was so much I needed to reiterate to him. A traditional ruler's wedding started during the day and then transitioned into this party and while the party was still going on the bride and groom retreated to a room prepared by close friends and family. It was expected that the consummation of the marriage would take place with witnesses, I wasn't about to bring that part of the tradition back. My mother and her mother had both refused to do that part too. Mario would be expected to have an active role in government, though I can't see him being an idle king. He hasn't been idle since I've known him.
"I know we won't have time right away," Mario starts. "But when things are settled where would you like to go for a honeymoon?"
It takes me a second to realize what he's actually saying. "Definitely not Delfino Island."
"I still think they believe that I did it," Mario says. "They were pretty quick to accuse me anyway and when it was all done you guys just went on about your vacation like it was no big deal."
"You didn't expect a Princess to clean up sludge, did you?" I reply dryly. "And it wasn't all fun and games for me, Bowser Jr. still thinks I'm his mom."
"You're just going to have to remind me when it's our weekend to watch him," says Mario.
I roll over to press her face against Mario's stomach. "Don't play like that!"
He laughs and brings his face down close to mine and just stares for what feels like forever. I freeze, watching him to see what he was trying to do. Did he want to kiss me? Was this something else? What is this?
And I just go for the first thing that comes to mind and pop up to nip him on the tip of the nose. He jumps back holding his face. "You bit me!" He says in a small voice.
I slap my hands over my mouth. "My goodness, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure what—"
Mario's lips cut the rest of my sentence off. The sound drains out of the world around me until the only thing left is my heart hammering in my ears. My body is ridged and stiff, but it was like I slowly melted into Mario's lap until all of me is just warm. He broke the kiss off first and I spring up in the carriage seat next to him. I immediately pull him close again, kissing him on the nose and then whispering to him over the gentle clop-clop, clop-clop of the horses hooves. "Did you have anything else planned for tonight?" I ask, my face as close to him as it can be without kissing.
"I figured that we would play things by ear, we can do whatever you want, though," Mario says.
"I'd like to go back to your place. I mean, I have something to show you." Mario's eyes search my face for some deeper meaning to my words, but the truth is I'm not even sure where I am going with this.
"W-we can do that. Yeah. Whatever you want." The calloused skin of his thumb brushes against my cheek, making a path below my eye. He pulls his fingers back through my hair and I don't know why, but it feels amazing for some reason.
He continues stroking my hair, pushing his fingers up the side of my face until he passed behind my ear. Another kiss, this time with his lips pressed tight to mine. My heart thunders against my chest until the point that I can feel it thumping in my temples and through my hands.
This is the perfect night, except I don't deserve it. A ruler that can't protect the people under her charge doesn't deserve anything. I rest my head on Mario's shoulder, silently watching as we pass a beautiful park cut out of the middle of the city. Across the shimmering black water of a wide river dots of light shine like constellations in the shape of buildings. New York, Mario called it. I've never been into the heart of it, but it seems familiar.
The gentle swaying of the carriage, the sound of the hooves on the ground. My eye lids are heavy, I just need a second.
There's a far off rumble of something like thunder and darkness. I'm breathing, the breath is leaving my body, at least, but I don't feel my body or any sense of place or time. I drift through the black.
Someone is speaking in a singsong voice, but I can't make it out. Their garbled words are loud enough, but it's like my mind is blocked, like something is keeping me from getting the final piece of the puzzle. The tune sounds so familiar, like something I heard when I was little.
"Peach. Peach. Princess?" Mario's voice cut through the murky black fog, but I'm unable to will myself to answer.
That nursery rhyme tune plays on a loop and then I see a spire in the blackness rising high into the sky.
The ruin rests in jagged peaks
For'ver guarded where dragon sleeps
The Old King ruin ruled us all
Til Toadstool did see that it all falled
"Peach, sweetness, wake up!"
Mario is standing over me with his arms beneath me and ready to pick me up. He's carried me before, though I fear this time that it might be because of how sleepy I am. The night air and the lights sting in my eyes and I try to rub the sensation away.
"Oh, sorry, Mario. I didn't realize how tired…" I slap a hand over my mouth to yawn. "…how tired I was." Before I can protest he lifts me off of the seat and carries me down from the carriage. I laugh, but this is a little much, especially given that I'm just sleepy. "Please, put me down. It's fine."
Mario carefully stands me up on the sidewalk and steadies me with his hands. The driver, Jeff, is standing nearby. "Thank you both for joining me," he says. "It's been a pleasure to drive you."
"Surely, Jeff the pleasure is all ours," I say. "I apologize for falling asleep in your carriage so brazenly."
Jeff smiles. "As long the rest was what you needed it's fine by me." He climbs back into the front after shaking Mario's hand and is off down the street. There's another rumble in the distance. Lightning. We head inside of the building hand and hand.
"I should sleep better tonight." This is my first thought after just waking up from a nap.
"You always sleep better when it's raining," Mario replies. Mario is the first into the apartment, peeking around the door before stepping in. "Luigi?" He whispers. "Are you awake?"
Ambient light from the large, wide window filters in painting the edges of everything in a blueish-purple. The apartment is silent except for the hum of the heater. Luigi's room door at the far end of the hallway is closed and there's no sign of light from inside. The dishes are put away and the kitchen area is clean, just the way Luigi always leaves it.
I run my finger along the painted wall until I feel the the edge of the doorway. With a gentle, flat headed push, I close the front door and lock it without making a sound. "There." When I turn around Mario is going for the light switch, but I run to grab his arm. "Can we just keep it like this?" I ask.
"You said you needed to show me something, though."
There's a shelf across from the door set into the wall. Though it's dark I know exactly the location of what I'm looking for. At eye level is a small oval shaped locket in the middle of the shelf. I lift it with care, holding the locket in my hands. It's cold to the touch. The is probably the longest that I've ever been without it, but it felt like the kind of thing that would draw attention on the streets here.
There's a latch on the bottom of it where it opens and, unlike the lockets that hold a picture or some other small keepsake, this one holds two rings. I remove the bigger of the two from the where it's nestled in next to it's partner. "This belonged to my father and my mother's is still inside of here. He would have wanted you to have it." I take his hand in mine and press the ring into it.
Mario clutches his hand right around the ring. "Peach, I don't know what to say."
"You've already said it. You're going to be my King and I'll be your Queen." My eyes turn toward the floor. "I only hope that I'm enough after all of this to save the Mushroom Kingdom."
He reaches out and grabs me by the back of the head and kisses me hard on the face. "You're always enough." We stayed locked together for several moments. Mario moves to kissing the side of my neck and it catches me off guard. The sound I let out isn't quite a moan and I reach back over Mario's shoulder and wrap my arm around so that my hand is on the back of his head.
My body is warm all over and it's hard to concentrate on what I need to say. "Mario…" I manage before the words fade from existence on my lips. "Mario, we should…" I point to his room. "We don't want to wake him," I whisper.
It's surprising how easily I am able to move through the darkness of the unfamiliar apartment. My skin is damp with sweat and suddenly very aware of the cold air around me. All of my senses are on edge, I'm suddenly all too aware of the smell of rain in my hair and the distant wail of a siren. I click the desk lamp on painting the small corner of the room yellow with dim light.
"Please close the door."
Mario does this for me and stands with his back to the door and his palms flat at his sides.
I crawl up into his bed, sliding out of my shoes and sit up on my knees. His eyes follow my every movement and the look on his face just screams that he knows what I am thinking. He wants me to say it, though. He wants to be sure.
He slips out of his shoes and climbs into the bed next to me. I climb up next to him, pressing my body into his shoulder and kissing him on the side of the face. I nip his ear and move my hand down the front of his shirt. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, working to unbutton them from the bottom to the top. When the top is unclasped, he slides his arms out of the sleeves revealing his chest.
"Can I touch?" It's strange to ask permission for things like this, maybe, but I don't know what's right or wrong here. This is a new situation to me. He nods his reply. My fingers slide over the smooth skin of his chest. I'm not sure if he shaves or waxes or what is going on here. All of those years handling those stubborn pipe fittings and fighting with Bowser did him some good. There's definition in his chest and arms that you could really only feel like this. "If you're uncomfortable at all or this is too weird for you, we can stop," I explain. Please don't want to stop.
"No, it's fine." Mario's voice is small, smaller than I've ever heard it.
I'm back kissing his neck and down his shoulder, everything is getting hazy again. "I don't know what I'm doing." I let out a little laugh and rest my cheek on his arm.
"You're doing fine, Princess." His voice came out broken at strange intervals.
"Could you do me a favor? Call me…Queen."
Mario smiles up at me. "Yes, my Queen."
"My on and only King." I reach up for both of the shoulders of my dress and tug at them, but there's no way to get out of it with the zipper up. I turn my back to Mario and move my to the front side of my shoulder, out of the way. "Could you unzip me?"
An electric tingle pops beneath my skin right through the dress where Mario's hand touches the dress. The zipper descends with a cautious kind of movement as he repositions his hand to keep the dress steady every few moments. The wait feels excruciating and when he's a little over midway down he kisses my back between my bare shoulder blades.
Under this dress is a chemise adorned with a row of bows down the back and front. It's loose and breezy, leaving little to the imagination under it. In this kind of light he could surely see a perfect silhouette of my body. He moves to kiss my right shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?" His lips move against my skin as he speaks causing his mustache to send a rippling tingle through my body.
"Yes." I've been adamant that I wanted to wait until marriage to have sex, but we didn't have to go that far if I changed my mind. And this isn't just some wild fling or some passing fancy. This is the man I want. "We can stay like this for a little while, at least."
I work the straps of the chemise down over my shoulders and it slides down to crumple into a heap at my hips. Despite my boldness, my cheeks are warming in embarrassment. I let out a sigh and glance back over my shoulder. Mario places a hand against my stomach, just over my bellybutton. His chest touches my back there's a warmth where out skin seems to connect.
When we were at the beach years ago, Mario sneaked up behind me and covered my eyes with his hands. His bare chest against my nearly bare back, it was the closest to this that we've ever come in the past and even then the context made things feel very different. My reaction then had been laughter and the immediate need to cup my hands and splash salt water over my shoulder and into his face. This time was entirely different.
Mario's lips ghost over the nape of my neck. He lets out a warm breath that cascades over my back and chest. I sink back against him and press his face deeper into my neck, his facial hair prickles at my neck and I can't help by giggle. There's a low guttural sound that I don't recognize as myself.
The air around us is like a wire being pulled tighter and tighter. My breathing is rushed and short. I swear I can hear the blood running through my veins.
"Mario…"
He's kissing down past my shoulder. His hand on my stomach creeps higher. This wait is excruciating, but I want it to last forever. The muscles in my hips spasm and I arch my back forward, Mario's hand is cups my breast and I don't know if I'll want to delay this to the wedding at this point.
"Are you okay?"
My breath hitches in my throat. "Y-yes, fine, really." My words come out as little more than a breathless gasp.
"I want to do something for you, but I don't want to cross that line if you're not ready," he says.
"Hmm, start to do it and if I stop you then you'll know."
Mario crawls around to one side of me. His shoulder brushes against my arm as he moves past. He pauses in front of me, taking my waist in his hands and kissing me clumsily on the face. "Lay back."
A little smile tugs at the corner of my lip. "Yes, my King."
We both laugh at this and I drop onto my back, though I'm unsure of what to do with my hands. The haze in my mind is clearing some now, though I still feel loopy and my stomach feels like it's floating. Mario hooks his hands around my thighs and pulls my body toward him. He cradles my leg in his hands and runs his cheek along the inner side of my knee.
"There's a passage of rules in the archives back home, when I was a younger girl I was obsessed with reading those things related to sex and intercourse…"
"Mmm, is this your prim and proper way of telling me that you were once a bit naughty, my Queen?"
"No," I gasp as his lips move deeper into my upper leg, toward what I'm sure is his goal. "I'm trying to inform you of a rule."
Mario looks up at me. "Is this, like, a thing for you?"
"A thing?" A thing? What does he mean by that. Wait. "Goodness no! A thing? Do you think I have some kind of rule fetish?"
He laughs at me. "I'm sorry, Princess."
My pouting is only half real. "I'm trying to tell you something important. The official segment on this…level of interaction states that a Princess is to remain as chaste as possible and it describes this as not engaging in the act itself or letting any suitor see her vagina."
"I've never heard you say vagina."
"I'm perfectly capable of saying vagina or any other word that I want!"
"Peach, if I can't see then that kind of puts a damper on this whole thing," Mario says.
"Nonsense." I reach down between my legs and cover his eyes with my hand. "Keep your eyes closed."
"I can do that."
"I'll keep my hand here, but swear to me that you will not open them."
"I swear."
Mario moves out of my reach, his eyes closed and tugs me closer to him with a little difficulty in finding me. His fingers glide up the sides of my thighs and he finds the line of my underwear and laces his fingers through them. He slides them down, keeping his promise to me until I can get a hand over his eye again.
You can guess where this is going. It's not the most fascinating thing to describe and you probably don't want to hear me ooo-ing and aww-ing.
Besides, there are a lot of things I can tell you without hesitation, but this first time at least—this is ours and ours alone. This isn't some thing about decency or being ladylike (whatever that may mean); there is something about having moments that belong to us worth keeping your mouth closed.
Well, mine will be closed at the very least. His, not so much.
