Again pals, sorry for the lateness. This girl is a busy one and off to college soon!

Chapter 3
.Union.

Pitch was resting, dipping into the dreams of a few miserable widowed servants. Their dreams had a toxic undercurrent of sweetness to them, something Pitch kept a wary eye on as he drained them. They were dreaming of their lost loves, their hearts aching. In the morning, having drained them, they would not remember. In fact, they'd find themselves surprisingly refreshed as he took away their nightly mental aches. It was one of the downsides to draining natural nightmares rather then creating Night Mares. (He scowled at the memory of the traitorous, wretched creatures. They'd be in for it once he got his powers back.)

Pitch recalled overhearing that even the fairly depressed princess had been in unusually high spirits yesterday. He hadn't drained her in several nights, careful to find other outlets and not depend on one sole source of rejuvenation. Unlike the princess, he didn't place much weight into any single individual.

However, he was not entirely sure when said girl had become a bit of a hobby of his. Even without stealing from her nightmares, he visited her nightly and watched with amusement at the brief bits of unintentional trouble and mischief she caused. He adamantly refused to call it "stalking." Stalking contained of level of obsession and false beliefs of perceived intimacy, delusions which he most assuredly did not suffer from. Observations of her beauty aside, he was no pervert. Indeed, the princess was a rare flower, almost unnaturally so. In his singular encounter with the Tooth Fairy's human form, he'd also believed her to be an appealing sight, and she'd punched one of his teeth out (vaguely, he wondered what ever became of that tooth). Perhaps he simply had a thing for blondes.

With a wave of his hand, the widow fell back into a dreamless sleep, and Pitch slipped from the room as unnoticed as he had entered. He folded his hands behind his back, thoughtfully glancing from the sunrise to the glistening castle in the distance with a frown.

The boy with the mischievous smirk and the brilliant blue eyes. The old man with the snow-white, silky hair and rosy cheeks. The woman with the big eyes and pretty dimples. The charming, eager-to-please-inducing voice of the idiotic Aussie-rabbit. And who could forget the childish, impish smile of the Sandman? The man in the moon loved loveliness, if with good reason. It was a strategy he played, one Pitch often scoffed at him for playing. Ridiculous normal people wooed by charm and beauty, oh, Pitch was MORE than aware of just how careful "Manny" had been in his choices. Residual images of bright green eyes floated into his vision as he glare with considerable suspicion towards the castle.

"Unnatural beauty indeed," he murmured to himself. "Hmm."

Perhaps he would be keeping a better eye on the young, mysterious princess. And, he thought, perhaps it was also time to take a visit to the Sub-World as well.

Rapunzel had decided she liked clothes very much, however, shoes were something she could do without.

But there were, she was finding, some disadvantages.

"Ohh," she huffed, shaking her ankle to try and get the mud off of her foot. In her one-legged state she stumbled backwards and her other foot fell into a cool, dirty puddle with a SQUELCH while her ladies looked on in wonder.

"Oh, your highness!" One squealed, the sweet-natured maid from before who was beginning to wonder if a depressed, clean princess was not better than a impish, dirty one. "Your dress!"

"Uhhh," Rapunzel gave a jerk of her ankle and managed to pull it from the mud, along with the other before surveying the damage. She gave her company a wary smile. "Sorry."

Mary clucked her tongue several times before bustling over, picking her way neatly around the mud puddle the princess had trampled through. It was like she didn't even recognize a puddle when she saw one, the silly thing!

The woman was still fretting over the state of her splattered clothes when the stable doors shot open against their will, and a horse of pristine golden dress bolted ferociously towards the dirtied princess. Stable-boys held onto his reigns with a strenuous effort.

"Heavens!" Mary screamed, attempting to drag the princess away.

Rapunzel seemed to be the only one unalarmed by the horse's violent nature, slipping free of her lady's grasp and stomping through even more puddles to get to the beast.

"Princess, stay back!" The ranchmen pleaded through his teeth as three men and himself fought to control the beast. "He doesn't like to be dirty!"

With an outraged whinny, the horse reared backwards, throwing all of the men into the floor before bolting forward. The men shouted. The woman shrieked. And Rapunzel and horse ran unheeded towards one another before colliding with a scream and a near-violent whinny.

Mud flew. Jaws dropped.

"P . . . Prin. . ." Pepper, the second attending maid, had her jaw clicked shut by the giggling young Lucy.

Mary shook her head, clicking Pepper's stuttering mouth shut with her fingers. "This child is certainly made of different things." She made the sign of the holy sun drop, a circle just below her collarbone and touched the three points: forehead, and both shoulder, before muttering a prayer and thereafter falling silent.

Rapunzel currently resided in the closest thing one could manage as an embrace when the two participants were a horse and a small girl. Maximus, for who else could the horse truly be, nuzzled and huffed excitedly into Rapunzel's hair, neck and face pressing her into his torso while she embraced him 'round his neck. Rapunzel murmured soothing nothings as Max continued to stomp his feet and trot in place, apparently unable to stand still at the sight of the friend who he hadn't seen in nearly 10 months.

"Ah, Your Highness," the poor portly woman hummed in dismay.

"Who's a good boy?" Rapunzel continued, unable to hear the woman over Maximus's snorts of delight and robust neighing. Either that, or the equally likely chance the princess was simply ignoring the tittering woman, kept Rapunzel from answering. "Are you the best boy there ever was?" Maximus nodded emphatically, and Rapunzel laughed, continuing to embrace her hoofed companion.

—Feeling grass instead of damp muck beneath her toes

—"Sit. . . .Siiiit."—

—"What?"—

—"Now drop the boot . . . Drop it!"—

Rapunzel's breath caught in her throat.

—"Aww, you are such a good boy!"—

No. No no no no no. Her fingers began to bunch reflexively into Max's fur, no longer hugging but hiding.

—"Aw come on, he's a bad horse!"—

Sensing he distress, Max pressed his head more firmly against her and ceased his trotting. The moment was solemn.

—"I need you not to get him arrested."—

"Oh, Max," Rapunzel whimpered. Max nodded, as if understanding. Rapunzel sniffed quietly a few times as the ranch hands, not noticing her distress and seeing that their kingdom's heir apparent was in no danger, had begun to disperse and mingle amongst themselves. The women, much more invested in the girl, respectfully turned away. The moment was as private one.

Rapunzel pulled away, clearing her throat with a bit of finality. Max had never liked . . . well, he hadn't gotten along with him, but she knew their relationship remained more on the side of friendship then anything else. While Rapunzel severely doubted anyone missed him as much as she did, at least Maximus understood better than most. And perhaps—

"Where is Pascal?" Rapunzel called out with possibly the most authority the meek princess had ever administered.

Silence followed. A couple of men looked at each other. One of them shrugged nervously.

". . . Your Highness?" One of them replied.

Rapunzel straightened her spine, resting one hand against Maximus's shoulder. The men gave a start. If possible, the horse seemed to be glaring at them; a mammalian bodyguard to the young princess's orders. They shared nervous looks of disbelief.

"My chameleon," she said. "I was told he would be given a place in the stables during my . . ." she shared a glance with Maximus, searching for the words. ". . . recuperation period." Maximus huffed his agreement, standing at even more attention as if to compensate for Rapunzel's hesitation.

"Ah, the lizard!" Under the dual power of both Max and Rapunzel's glower, the man shrunk into himself a bit. "Ah, beg your pardon man. Pass-cal has been well taken care of in your absence, if you'd please follow me?"

Rapunzel nodded firmly, chin firmly at the level of the ground as she strode forward, Maximus remaining directly by her side, glaring at any one whom they passed. What he was warning them of, he didn't know. A few grown men straightened up from their casual posture. Several of the younger, training boys went so far as too look away from the small procession completely. Rapunzel smiled at Maximus, aware that part of this show was his doing. He winked at her and she laughed.

"Through here, ma'am," the Keeper said, pushing aside a curtain. "I must say, we haven't had many reptiles to take care of around here. Your . . . ah, friend's a bit of a picky eater."

"He likes lemons and oranges," was Rapunzel's reply, momentarily losing her royal composure. She quickly slipped back into the imperious facade. "I trust he's been treated well?"

"Excellent care, if I might say so myself." They walked down a hallway, passing several large, tightly barred cages, as well as a variety of smaller sizes stacked along the walls. Most of them were empty, but Rapunzel's eyes widened at the sight of one of the larger ones that held what she believed to be an alligator within it, sleeping docilely inside its habitat. Its body was wet and black, huge in torso with powerful stubby legs. As they passed, it opened one bright green eye marbled with shades of grey, the black slit focusing immediately on her before slipping closed again, assured of its might so completely that it thought of not even the bigger (though likely not stronger, Rapunzel thought guiltily) creature that was Maximus intimidated it.

"I see you've met Hercules," the Keeper said, pausing before the bars. The thick creature opened both eyes now, eying the man's hands and slipping back into a peaceful doze when he saw it held no food. "He's a bit of a brute; found him when he was a baby, torn up leg. Convinced your parents to let me keep him and nurse him back to health.

Rapunzel leaned back nervously, "He certainly doesn't seem injured anymore."

The Keeper laughed. "Nope, he's good as new. But he refused to be reintroduced to the wildlife, so now he's stuck with us. He lives a good life; food whenever he wants it, a nice warm habitat. We'll be looking to find a mate for him soon." Maximus pushed himself between the two, shooting a pointed glare at the man. The man flushed, realizing the possibly inappropriate topic in front of the lady. Rarely had the Keeper ever had monarchs for visitors, and as a result, he was severely lacking in the etiquette department. Perhaps animal rutting wasn't the most appropriate topic of discussion to have with a lady. He cleared his throat, mumbling about leaving the animal to his rest as he parted a second curtain, moving her ahead of him and avoiding the pointed eye-contact the horse was trying to make with him. Maximus had always been a creature too smart for his own good, even as a foal.

"Ah, here he is, ma'am." The Keeper said, smiling fondly at the creature lazing about in his specially-made glass cage. "We let him out twice a day, within the confines of the habitat of course. A bit of a picky eater—goes through the fruit storage like mad he does—but we've regulated his meals to more reasonable citrus consumption and leveled his diet out with more vegetables and mealworms."

"Mealworms?" Rapunzel's lightly freckled nose had scrunched up in confusion as she peered within the glass. It was a wide habitat, about six feet in diameter and rounded like a pillar. It was like a tiny world in their, with so much plant life and rock fixtures that her dear friend was obscured completely. "What's—I mean, ahem," she regained her facade. "Whatever is a mealworm?"

The man shot a glance at Maximus, who shook his head once with a glare. The Keeper briefly considered if he was going mad—or simply incompetent—for taking advice from a horse.

"Nothing, madame. Just food some of the smaller reptiles like." The man, seeing her struggles, lightly rapped on the glass and gave a shrill whistle.

Suddenly, crawling over the mountain, came a sleepy-eyed green lizard who seemed, impossibly, to be rubbing at his eyes.

"Pascal!"

And the lizard froze. The Keeper barely had time to open the small hatch before the thing shot out, loving curling its tail around Rapunzel's face and nuzzling against her cheek while making heartbreaking noises. Respectfully, both Keeper and Maximus glanced away.

"Oh, Pascal, I know," the girl cooed, palms mimicking an embrace as she cradled his body to her head. Her voice, the Keeper noted with a pang, was suspiciously watery. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Pascal . . ." At this, the creature's noises became but squeals that somehow seemed to mourn. The Keeper glanced at Maximus, brows rising when he noted the horse's eyes seemed to be tearing up. It glared at him upon seeing his gawking, glancing away, but the signs of aches that no medicine could cure struck his old heart once more.

Indeed, this had to be the strangest day the Keeper could ever attest to experiencing.

"Oh," Rapunzel hummed. "I missed you too." Squeaks of protest. "Well of course I did! I missed you very much, Pascal, I just." She sighed, "It was better for you to remain here." Further protests. "Well, I won't do it again. I'm . . . I don't want to be cooped up anymore, you know? . . . I've had enough of that in my life."

Unable to help himself, the Keeper turned to her with a curious, wary gaze. "You speak to him?"

She nodded, no sense of shame within her gaze as she scratched a favored spot beneath Pascal's chin. "He's been my best friend for half of my life. We have all sorts of conversations. I've missed him, and them, dearly."

He continued to gaze at her, a thought itching at the corner of his mind as he watched the chameleon practically purr with happiness at her attentions. "And you love him," it wasn't a question.

"I do," she said, smiling at Maximus. "As I love my noble steed."

The horse preened equally under her attentions, coming to join the chameleon in smothering the princess in nuzzles. Rather then recoil, as most noble young woman would at even the cleanliest of creatures pressing up against her face, the Keeper watched in astonishment as the princess laughed and threw an arm around him, pressing them both in a hug.

At a shuffle, the Keeper glanced 'round and nearly started.

Birds, lizards, and several mammals of various sorts peered through their cages at the young princess, laughing and glowing in the suddenly vibrant glowing light. It caught the glass cage, and burned bright against her back. The creatures seemed captivated, some of them outstretching curious tails or paws, as if they were compelled to attempt to embrace the girl as well. As if they were so taken with her that they could hardly help themselves. Animals, creatures of all vicious and mild-tempered sorts, would bow to the warmth of this strange girl.

"They're my best friends," she said, oblivious to what was happening within the Keeper's spinning mind. "Or, they're more than that. They're . . ." she frowned briefly, before her face softened in a mother's love, stroking a hand over Maximus's face and cupping Pascal close to her cheek. "They're like family."

Regardless of his own inner instinct to continue to stare at what was surely a creature of God's own creation, the Keeper knew with the utmost assurance that these were words not meant for his ears. To further prevent any such confessions, the Keeper cleared his throat and wordlessly, without even glancing at Rapunzel, he handed her a handkerchief that was lightly plucked from his hand with a sniffle. Through but a fifteen minute interaction at most, the Keeper had gained the utmost respect for the once-lost princess. For of all his men, there was not many in his life whom he could say truly loved animals without any hesitation. This girl, he knew, without a doubt, was among those who understood.

"Thank you," she said, causing him to glance up at a pink-eyed but otherwise composed woman. She held his token out to her.

He shook his head with a smile, holding one palm up in refusal. "Keep it, my Lady. For I could no more bare to remove that handkerchief from your hand than you could bare removing yourself from your companions, or vice versa."

Rapunzel's head tilted in confusion, the 'kerchief still clutched within her grasp. Regardless, she brought it close to her chest. "I don't understand."

He smiled, "That 'kerchief," he said, nodding at it. "Is a gift, given unto me by my mentor and his before. It is given only to those who truly understand animals and creatures, as I do, and as I see you now do. The compassionate, who recognize them not as monstrosities, but beings, capable of love and fierce loyalty to those who deserve it." He gestured to Pascal, ticking a head towards Maximus. "These friends of yours—for surely they are held with more regard than even the mose beloved pets—are loyal to you in ways that I have rarely seen. Your compassion must be equally unparalleled. If that is the true heart of my future monarch, then I am blessed to live and stand before you. You, princess, are truly a Queen worth waiting for."

Rapunzel gaped, breathless and speechless. Never before had anyone spoken such kind words to here with so much earnest. Her moth. . . Gothel had only ever spoken compliments to herself, chiding Rapunzel at every turn. But this man, a complete stranger, had more kind words to say to her than a woman who had known her for the entirety of her life, and the Queen and King themselves.

And she had never truly realized how starved for something so simple as praise before now.

Rapunzel absolutely glowed, watery eyed once more, clutching the 'kerchief close to her chest. It was beautiful, if not obviously worn by many hands handling it. It was woven in the pattern of (or perhaps with) peacock's feathers, a bird whom she had only ever heard of in story books, and white feathers that she suspected were that of a dove's checkered in at random. And she thought it was beautiful.

"Thank you," she said, words heavy with more than just the gift. "Thank you."

"It is my pleasure, your highness." He gestured to a station normally reserved for the men after cleaning the cages. "Would you like to wash a bit, madame?"

She frowned, some of the guilt at the effort her maids' would have to use to clean off her gown if she didn't soak it a bit now finally coming through. "Ah, yes please. If you don't mind."

Mr. Nimler faced Pascal's cage, the opposing wall, taking the time to check on the animals in the opposite direction of the princess while Maximus hovered protectively at his back, glaring suspiciously. Had Mr. Nilmer even been a bit that sort of man who would watch a lady lift her skirts—even to the innocent height of her ankles or calves—the horse would have been a wall of secrecy regardless. Mr. Nilmer smirked at him, reaching into his coat pocket for a spare carrot that he handed to a bright-eyed but still suspicious horse. He laughed at the angry chewing, writing a few pieces of advice on the clipboards beside each cage and frowning, making a few adjustments. It was a good ten minutes before Rapunzel sang out an, "All done!"

Gown now safely back around her ankles as propriety dictated, he extended an arm to her politely, which she took readily, Pascal switching to the other side of her neck and taking perch on her shoulder. Maximus trotted ahead, taking note of the gawking animals and snarling at them. The Keeper noticed, with amusement, that the spell over them seemed to break and they all slunk back to the recesses of their cages, keeping a far less awed and much more wary eye on the receding princess. Maximus pulled the curtain aside in a gentlemanly fashion with his teeth, snorting softly at Rapunzel's gracious and amused "thank you, Maximus" before taking his post up at the rear.

"What is your name?" Rapunzel asked him. All watery-eyed feelings had been choked back down for the both of them, it seemed, and it made the Keeper smile.

"Arthur, milady," he said. "Arthur Nilmer, Keeper of the Creatures."

The title made the princess giggle, and she briefly made them pause to wave at Hercules. With further amusement, as if aware of Arthur's change about the girl, Hercules eyes tracked her face before snorting, waddling over to press all 8-feet of his side up against the glass before falling back to sleep. He twitched briefly at Rapunzel's squeal of excitement and awe before Maximus nudged her forward, and they emerged into the light with Rapunzel asking Mr. Nilmer all manner of questions about the nature of alligators, signs of a willingness and even eagerness to learn that made Arthur laugh and answer with as much truth and simplicity that he could manage.

"Princess!" A maid shrieked, interrupting the conversation as they emerged. "A creature has latched itself to your arm!"

Several men started, hurriedly handing off their duties to younger boys before making their way over towards the girl, as if the chameleon had put her in mortal danger. Pascal flashed an angry red, receding into the confines of the collar of Rapunzel's light coat, when Mr. Nilmer laughed and held up a palm.

"Easy, boys," he said. "It's just Pascal."

The men rolled their eyes and wandered back, each familiar with the demanding, spoilt creature with too much personality for anything inhuman to possess. Rapunzel laughed loudly, shooting Pascal a knowing smirk as the creature flooded with banana-yellow, doing its best to look innocent and just as confused as to the reason behind the men's passive animosity.

"Oh dear," Mary hummed, lips pressing tight together briefly. "Will it be . . . staying, ma'am?"

"Yes," Rapunzel said, a tad primly, likely as a result of her protectiveness for her pet. She slipped from Mr. Nilmer's arm with a nod and a friendly, innocent smile, Maximus bowing to allow her onto his back in order that she may this time avoid the mud puddles. Mr. Nilmer watched the ladies sag slightly in relief with no small amount of amusement. "Pascal will remain with me at all times. Mr. Nilmer," she said, and Maximus turned her in his direction. These orders she said with less authority, "If you would be so kind as to send Pascal's diet to the kitchen's so that they may send it up with mine—?"

"I will take care of it as soon as I am done here, your Highness," he bowed low, smiling kindly at her from her perch atop of her pale mount. "Am I to assume that Maximus," he saw the horse nod his head gratefully for not simply referring to him as 'the horse', "will now be your preferred mount?"

"Ah, yes," she said, obviously not having considered to request such a thing. Likely, it hadn't even occurred to her that she could. "Yes. If that's not too much trouble."

"None at all," he said. "And please, Lady, if you ever would like to stop by, you are more than welcome. I'm sure Hercules would love the attention."

She laughed, turning her head as Max changed directions, ushered by the ladies in their haste to remove themselves from the "filthy" environment. Rapunzel was forced to take the reigns more steadily at the jostling. "I will. Thank you, Mr. Nilmer!"

"Goodbye, princess!" He called after her as Maximus trotted off, obviously eager to be rid of the servant's attentions. It made Arthur smile to know that such a fierce protector would now be accompanying the little princess.

From within the shadows and around the corner, a figure glowered at nothing, his back to the princess and the entire conversation. The girl could not see him, of that he was sure, but upon seeing the admiration—neigh, the sheer raw euphoric gaping—of every creature within eyesight of the girl, Pitch was forced to leave and wait outside.

He couldn't stand it. A little thought in the back of his head traitorously suggested envy, though not to the lowly beasts that had been ensnared by the girl's glorious adoration for all things stupid and infantile, but the girl herself.

No one has ever looked at you as such, said the voice. In fact, no one looks at you at all anymore.

It wasn't true. Pitch remembered a time of big brown set of eyes and sleek black curls smiling up at him. A child, and a little girl. But he shook those thoughts away, or perhaps something else did, but for whatever reason, before he could dwell on them for long they were gone. And only his resentment continued to stew.

"The girls mad," he spat, glancing about him with a frown. "Or perhaps her peers simply are."

Mr. Nilmer was already back inside his domain, the den of creatures, when he came to a sudden pause. His head was troubled, though why it had just occurred to him now he hardly knew. An image of the princess, with beasts of all sort—but since when had he ever referred to his spiritual kin as beasts? a small, shouted down voice in his head murmured—clawing at her, far more violent and less affectionate than the reality of what happened.

Madness, the voice whispered, his voice, though still very unlike his thoughts.

And for whatever reason, that singular word haunted his thoughts for the rest of his day.

In which Pitch is a little bitch, reunions invoke the feels, and the first arc of the story begins. Which, admittedly, is a bit of a heart-wrencher.

Something to think about: When a child claims to see something that no one else can, it is the charming imagination of a wondrous heart. When an adult claims to see something that no one else can, it is madness.