A/N: I totally did not notice, but July 15th marked the one-year anniversary of this story! I cannot believe how fast time flies! Anyway, here is the next installment! Bloom's dress is based off of her Bloomix transformation, which I think really fits her character. Hope you loves enjoy! Keep giving me your love as well! There was a rather pesky guest reviewer who gave me some trouble, but to them I say: don't like? Don't read! Simple as that! XOXOX!


Chapter Eight

Bloom had forgotten what it was like to have fine things.

She had been given fancy dresses, good food, and anything she wanted for in the tower, but she had never really used those things. Diaspro would take everything for herself before Bloom had the chance to look at what she had been given. Eventually, Bloom learned to go without. Now that she had a plush bed, servants to order as she pleased, an entire set of chambers for herself, and all the gowns her heart desired, she had no idea what to do with it all.

The downy bed, filled with the finest feathers and covered in the softest silks, brought her discomfort. It felt like she was going to fall through the mattress, sinking deeper and deeper inside until she feared she would not be able to surface. The sheets felt slick over her skin, making her shiver and itch. Eventually, she found herself sleeping on the floor with the hard stone against her back.

Much better, if she did say so herself.

That was how the maids found her in the morning after her welcome feast, curled up at the foot of her bed, her body bent as if she were in her dragon form. The room was large enough to accommodate the dragon nicely, but Bloom still could not manage enough fire to bring herself to transform. The journey to Sparks and reuniting with her father had wiped her out, and so she feared she would remain human for a little while longer.

The maids said nothing of the matter, trained not to ask questions - only serve. They opened the curtains, the burst of sunlight hitting Bloom directly, causing her to wake. Soon enough she was whisked into a steaming hot bath and scrubbed clean of all ash and dust, her hair pulled free of knots and tangles as the maids rubbed different oils and scrubs all over her body. She felt raw and exposed, more so than usual. When she was toweled off and seated at a vanity, another maid immediately went to work on her face, practically painting it on. Her skin was blanched and her cheeks and lips rouged. Her hair was slicked and pulled up tightly into an elaborate bun, braids weaving in and out of the edges, a golden circlet pinned into place and coming to rest upon her forehead.

When it came time for the dress, Bloom protested at what had been chosen for her.

"I will not wear this," she waved the dress away, wanting it out of her sight.

She refused to put the pink and gold ballgown on her body, all the ruffles and poof reminding her of something Diaspro would wear.

"Then what will you wear miss?" a maid asked timidly, afraid of angering the dragon princess.

"What are my choices?" Bloom asked, and the maid took her to the wardrobe.

Bloom pulled open the double doors and surveyed her selection. There were dozens of dresses hanging in a variety of styles and colors - no doubt made to ensure that there would be something she'd like. None were as simple or as soft as the cotton frocks she was used to, but then again, those were not suitable for a princess. Not a publicly recognized one, at least. Bloom frowned, pulling down gowns she knew she would never wear, ordering the maids to burn them or use them for scraps. When the rejects were filed through, Bloom was left with nearly a dozen gowns to choose from. However, there was one that caught her eye more than the others.

Pulling it down to get a better look, Bloom immediately knew it was the one.

The gown made a powerful statement, most likely created with the dragon in mind, something that surprised her given her family's opinion on it. The bodice looked like plated armor, each individual scale a shade of cerulean blue and outlined in gold. It was strong like metal, yet it bent easily in her hand. The long sleeves were designed to mimic the scales, but the material was sheer and much lighter. The skirt was floor length and full, yet it did not poof; instead it faded from cerulean to a deep midnight blue at the train, intricate golden detail woven throughout. The square neckline would showcase her long, slender neck perfectly, and the high collar rising up to fan out behind her gave off an air of sophistication and power. As soon as she put it on, her maids gasped. They knew just as she did that this dress was made just for her.

"You look stunning miss," one of the maids complimented, completely awed as Bloom spun slowly, admiring the dress at all angles.

"Oh, here!" another maid said animatedly as she scampered off to the vanity, pulling something out of one of the drawers before returning.

In her hand was a golden necklace inlaid with sapphires. The gems were all different sizes, positioned to look like perfectly controlled chaos. Bloom loved it instantly and let the maid fasten it around her neck. It sat heavy on her clavicle, but matched the dress wonderfully. There were earrings and a ring to match, everything falling into place as her slippers and stockings were added and a gauzy blue wrap was placed around her shoulders. When everything was said and done, Bloom looked like a true princess.

But when she looked in the mirror, she didn't recognize the woman staring back at her.

Her stomach let out a long growl, breaking the spell, and the maids laughed.

"Should I go and fetch you some breakfast miss?" one of the maids asked.

"Yes, please," Bloom said, holding her stomach. She hadn't eaten much the night before. Everyone wanted to talk to her, and her mother never let her rest. Just as soon as she'd gotten a moment to spare, she was being whisked off to meet someone else. It was taxing to say the least.

"What would you like miss?"

"Meat, lots of meat," Bloom sighed, her mouth watering at the sound. She wished she could go hunt herself, but that just wouldn't be possible, not in her dress at least.

"Surely. I will see if there is any cooking."

"No, not cooking!" Bloom stopped the woman in her tracks, slightly embarrassed that she would have to clarify. "I eat my meat raw."

"Raw?" the maid repeated, her eyes wide and skeptical.

"That's right. Living, if you can manage it, If not, freshly cut meat will do just as well. Maybe some stag or wild cat? Those are my favorite..."

Bloom was mumbling by the end, the disgusted looks the maids were giving her more than a tad off-putting.

"I'll see what I can do miss..."

The maid rushed out of the room with her head down, disappearing into the hall. Bloom passed the time while she waited counting the number of perfectly cut square stones made that up her floor. She had gotten to a hundred when the maid came back in, a large silver serving platter in hand.

"Finally," Bloom sighed, rushing over to the tray. "I'm ravenous."

She lifted the silver top and revealed the thickly cut red meat lying in a pile of blood and juices. She nearly fainted it smelled so good. The maids did not seem to think so, discreetly burying their heads in their smocks and shoulders to not gag at the scent. Bloom did not care, picking up the dripping slab with one hand - careful not to drip on the dress - and craning her neck so she could shove as much into her mouth as she could at once. Her razor sharp teeth cut through the thick flesh like butter. She tore into the meat, completely oblivious to the horror of her maids until she was licking her fingers clean.

"What?" she asked, using her nail to pick out the bits between her teeth.

Her maids did not reply, and Bloom spun around to catch her reflection in the mirror. She still looked like the consummate princess: regal in her dress in jewels. But her mouth and face were covered in blood and juices, her eyes narrowed and her teeth filed to points. She could understand how she might look slightly unnerving.

"I suppose I should start eating like a princess," Bloom grumbled, shifting her features back to human, causing the maids to relax once more. They did not dare to agree with her, but they said nothing to the contrary.

"Yes, you should," came a booming voice. From across the room, standing in her doorway, King Oritel looked rather put off, a frown pulling at his lips. "We can't have you hunting down rabbits and pulling them apart at the wedding, now can we?"

"Rabbits? You insult me father. I am capable of catching far bigger," Bloom retorted. Two could play at his game, and he obviously did not like to be challenged.

"You think you are clever?" King Oritel asked as he glared, stepping in close to his daughter.

"Not at all," she replied, level and cool. He could invade her space and tower over as much as he wanted. He would never elicit the fear he so desperately seemed to crave, not at the rate he was going at least.

King Oritel took a step back, taking in his daughter's full appearance, anger lining his face as he recognized the dress. "You will change at once."

"I will do no such thing."

There was going to be a fight, a full blown one at that, but thankfully fate intervened in the form of Queen Miriam. The small, graceful woman leaned up against the doorframe, peeking tentatively into the room, unsure if she should interrupt.

"Darling, what is going on here?" Queen Miriam asked, trying to diffuse the situation.

King Oritel opened his mouth to speak, but Bloom beat him to the punch. "Father and I were just having an argument, but it is all settled now, isn't it father?"

Bloom and Queen Miriam looked over to where King Oritel stood for confirmation, but all he did was huff and storm out of the room, not even bothering to kiss his wife as she reached for him. If the queen was hurt by this, she did not let it show, instead lifting her chin up and smoothing out her gown, walking over to her daughter. Bloom was livid at her father's treatment of not only herself, but her mother as well. How long had this behavior been endured?

"He hates me," Bloom seethed, starting to see red around the edges. Her mother reached up to place a comforting hand on Bloom's shoulder, an act that immediately calmed her down.

"No, my dear, he simply does not know what to make of you," Queen Miriam assured Bloom, causing her to look down at her mother for the first time.

"And what do you make of me?" Bloom asked. Such a loaded question filled with tentative hope but delivered with a cutting edge.

Queen Miriam looked her daughter in the eye, making sure her point was made clear. "You are my daughter, no matter what form you take. Nothing will ever change that."

Bloom nodded slowly, as if the words were having a hard time connecting with her brain. Queen Miriam felt a pang in her heart as she realized that love and compassion were two things that her daughter had been severely deprived of during her stay in the tower. It had been an awful decision to send Bloom away, one that the queen wished she could take back with every fiber of her being. The best she could do now was support her daughter in any way possible, to give Bloom space and trust and hope that one day she would return those things in kind.

Queen Miriam extended her hand. "Now come. We are departing for Eraklyon within the hour."

"Must I go?" Bloom asked, hesitating.

"Yes," the queen said, though she did not look thrilled to be going either. "I know that you and Diaspro are not the fondest of friends, but as royals we must do what we have to for the good of the kingdom and that includes making appearances in places we would rather not be."

"The problem is not Diaspro, though I find I wish it were," Bloom tried to explain, feeling sick to her stomach. She must've looked the part as well, the queen rushing to Bloom's side, worried.

"What is wrong my dear?"

"I thought I was stronger than this, but I am weak. I am weak and now I am being forced to recognize that weakness in a public place for the entire world to see..." Bloom confessed, hating herself for opening up to a woman who was practically a stranger, mother or not. "I have to watch him marry that spoiled child and I don't think I can take it."

Bloom had to stop herself before she cried. It was one thing to confess personal details but another entirely to cry. It was unbecoming, just another form of weakness that she could not bear to show. The tears in her eyes enraged her, making her want to gouge her eyeballs out of her skull.

"Why do I feel like this? I hate it!" Bloom screamed, emotions running violently through her.

"You have spent so long as a dragon that you have forgotten what makes you human," Queen Miriam said, her voice soft and filled with a confidence that Bloom wished she could emulate. Confidence used to come to Bloom so easily. Now, it seemed impossible to muster, vanished just like her dragon. But the queen still held onto hers, lifting Bloom's chin up for her. "Dry your tears. Hold your head high. You are a Princess of Sparks, descended from a long line of Dragon Queens. No one can make you feel lesser unless you let them. That includes Diaspro. And if this Prince truly chooses her over you, then he is a poor man indeed, and I will have no sympathy for him when he steps into the hell that surely awaits him."

"Mother," Bloom gasped, surprised to hear such passionate words come from such a subdued woman, but grateful for them all the same.

The queen merely shrugged and smiled at her daughter, embracing her one last time before escorting her out the door.

It would be a long ride to Eraklyon, and Bloom was thankful that her father would be riding on horseback at the very front of the party while she and her mother got to ride in the carriage. That left plenty of time for reflection, sleeping, and some much needed reconnecting. Looking out at the palace grounds, Bloom realized she had everything any girl could ever dream of: royal lineage, a palace to live in, a loving mother, fancy jewels and gowns, and a throne to inherit. She had no need of a husband to make her happy or make her feel fulfilled in life. This wedding should have been nothing to her, no different than any other ball or banquet.

So then why did she feel like each step towards Eraklyon was a death sentence?