Author's Note: Skip. Read.
William was looking into Mabel's eyes, eyes that glowed faintly in the fading light, and he wondered when exactly he fell for her.
He thought she was hot when he first saw her. He felt extreme empathy for her when he gave her the first taste of freedom. He just had no clue when all that came together into him wanting to be with her.
He suddenly noticed that she was shivering.
"Oh! Oh, you're cold… sorry, I should go get some wood…" he got up, and gave her a smile. "I learned how to make a fire when I was ten, so this should be easy."
She laughed, and stood up as he began walking away. "Um, William?"
"Yeah?" he turned back.
"Stay a little longer?"
He grinned. "Well… if you insist."
They sat back down.
"Tell me about your story," Mabel said. It was spoken softly, but clearly a command.
"I don't think you want to hear it, Shooting Star," he said. "It's not a happy one."
"I want to know," she said. "It can't be worse than mine."
It could…
"Tell me," she insisted.
"I… fine. Fine. Okay," he gave in. "Okay, so when I was a kid, the kingdom was semi-decent. People could feed their families, and crime was low, and most people had a roof over their heads. That changed pretty quickly when Pine Tree- King Dipper- took over after the deaths of his parents. He was twelve, at the time, so maybe putting him in charge was a bad idea, but…"
Mabel looked at him. "What happened?"
William took a deep breath. "He was ruthless. He killed without mercy, and he took too much. My family was on the streets by the time I was eleven, and one night, I was attacked..."
"Your eye?"
"Bingo."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"No, I need to say this. Okay, after that, I decided I would never let anyone have power over me again. I began learning how people like me could get a bit of power- by being criminals. I was a pretty damn good fighter, but I think it was my talent for subversion that made me famous. I was thirteen when I made my first heist of the royal castle. I was fourteen when I taught twenty huge men what an amazing difference a small switchblade could make. I was fifteen when they declared me legend."
He looked at her, and saw her eyes wide with shock. "When did Bill Cipher come into the picture?" she asked.
"I made up the name when I was twelve. I guess I always admired puzzles, and mysteries… I wanted to be a mystery… And just this morning, I was on the brink of becoming the only thief in history to get his hands on a real royal crown… I'm glad that you took it though. I would still climb the tower, if I could go back. I'm glad I met you."
There was a silence. William cleared his throat.
"Well! That's pretty much my life story! How about you?"
"I don't have a life story," Mabel replied. "I was kept in a tower until this morning. You've been around for every interesting thing that ever happened to me."
"There has to be something," William prodded. "I mean, where did you get that pink sweater?"
"Made it," she said, offhand. "I had a lot of free time. I guess… I guess the most interesting thing about me that you don't know… I don't actually know where I come from."
"Meaning?"
"Mama isn't my biological mother," she explained. "I don't know who my parents are, or where I was born, or how I have this magic hair that heals the sick. I mean, if it's hereditary…"
William was giving her a stare of complete wonder. "I… I… magic glowing… heals the sick… Shooting Star, what do you know about flowers?"
"Um, they're pretty? What are you getting at?"
He thought about it. Overall, it would explain a lot…
"Never mind. I had an idea, but it would be pretty much impossible. I… I'm going to get that wood now," he said, starting off.
"For the record, I like William Sloan more than Bill Cipher," Mabel called.
He laughed quietly as he left the clearing.
Mabel sighed, and suddenly, Gothel burst out from the trees.
"Oh, my goodness, I thought he would never leave!" she complained.
"Mama!"
"Hello, sweetie," she smiled bitterly.
"How the hey-hey did you find me?" Mabel asked.
"It was easy," Gothel spoke flippantly. "I just followed the sound of lies, deceit, and recklessness, and it led me straight to you."
"I… I'm sorry, but…"
"We are going home, Mabel," Gothel said.
"You don't understand! You never listen to me!" Mabel said. "You said the outside world was evil, but I've been outside all day, and it's been incredible! I've seen more today than in the rest of my life combined! I even met someone…"
"Right. The wanted criminal. I'm so proud," Gothel said dryly. "Come on, Mabel."
"No, wait… Mama, I… I think he likes me," Mabel said, beaming. "I really think he likes me!"
Gothel paused.
What was she supposed to do? Yes, she'd taken the child for selfish reasons, and no, she was never going to win mother of the year… still, the girl meant something to her. You can't raise a little girl from infancy and not feel some kind of connection.
She was at war with herself. A part of her wanted to hug the girl, and tell her to go with him, run free. A stronger part wanted to keep her golden flower to herself. The part that won out in the end though, was simply the knowledge that this man was a criminal, and Mabel might be fifteen tomorrow, but she had none of the survival skills others had… and this man was dangerous. She couldn't let her daughter go off with a dangerous man into what had become a horrible, cold kingdom.
She just didn't have any way aside from her usual method of persuasion.
She turned around. "You think he likes you? Please, Mabel. That's demented!"
"No, I really think…"
"This is why you never should have left," Gothel sneered. "This whole 'romance' that you've invented, it just proves you're too naïve to be here!"
"But…"
"Oh, please, why a kid like you? Come on now, really. Look at you! Dirt across your face! Oh dear, that ancient dress! Do be a darling, come with mummy… Mother knows-"
"NO!" Mabel shouted furiously.
"No?" Gothel was alarmed. "No. Oh. I see."
She came up to Mabel, and spun around.
"Mabel knows best! Mabel's so mature now! Such a clever, grown-up miss!" she sang, angrily. "Mabel knows best! Fine! If you're so sure now, go ahead and give him THIS!"
She pulled out the satchel, and threw it at Mabel.
"What are you saying?" Mabel asked, tears in her eyes.
"Oh, you know that is why he's here! Don't let him deceive you! Give it to him, watch, and you'll see."
"I trust him," Mabel snarled.
"Trust me dear," Gothel snapped her fingers. "That's how fast he'll leave you! I won't say I told you so… no. Mabel knows best! So, if he's such a dreamboat, go ahead! Put him to the test!"
"Mama, listen," Mabel tried to reason with Gothel, to no avail.
"If he's lying, don't come crying!" Gothel hissed. "Mother knows best!"
And with those words, she left in a puff of smoke.
