As always, big thanks to my editors Drucilla and BlueShifted.

If I titled this chapter, it would be EVERYONE CRIES FOREVER. Even me - for a long time now, imagining Panchito's scene were would always get me a little weepy, even when writing it. Maybe I'm just a big ol' softie, who knows.

Anyway, enjoy this peaceful respite while you can, because come the next chapter, it's time for Mortimer's villainy to shine! Or freeze, as it were.

The day after the New Year's Festival, it rained heavily in both kingdoms. To the Moons, it was an annoyance and their wet kingdom became even soggier. Despite this, José Carioca enjoyed the rain as he felt the sound it made was like beautiful music. It made a lovely accompaniment to the music inside his club. He was hoping the combination of sounds would cheer up the dark group over in the corner, and while he knew all of those faces belonged at the castle, it seemed as if they were a mismatched party since they were all giving each other unwelcome looks.

José normally never eavesdropped on his guests, but he still remembered when the princess had asked for his advice on wooing a man. After lighting his cigar, he calmly walked pass the table, pretending to be bobbing and weaving to the music and not listening in on the men who were all connected to the beloved princess.

Mortimer was the only one not drinking water, having instead chosen wine. Donald suspected it was so he could try to look suave as he moved the goblet around in his hand. Pete was moving back and forth, feeling the seats would snap under his impressive weight. Drake had taken ahold of the conversation, irritation obvious despite the ridiculous mask he was wearing. "Pete and I both managed to get off our very important shifts for this so-called 'emergency meeting' of yours, but so far, I feel like I'm risking my job just for jazz. That'll be fun to tell my kid."

"Come now, we're all like minds," Mortimer replied calmly after taking a far too long sip. "I just thought we should all relax a little before I change your futures. You're all going to be very important players in history."

Donald resisted an urge to roll his eyes. "Look, can we cut to the chase here? You called us all here for a reason, and once my uncle finds out I paid for a drink I can easily get at the castle, he's going to smack me upside the head so many times I'm going to forget my first name."

"Very well." Mortimer placed the goblet down, and leaned back, smiling. "What I'm here to propose to you fine gentleman is...a way to win the war for good."

Silence fell upon them for about three seconds until Pete raised his hand like a child in school. "I know I ain't the smartest guy here, but even I know there's no war going on. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, but our war against those barbarian Suns has never truly ended." Mortimer wagged a finger in Pete's face, though he knew well enough to pull back before Pete could break it. "How can you say the war is over when both sides lost? That's impossible! No, the war will never truly be over until every single last Sun is dead. And with my plan, we can do exactly that."

"Aaand I've lost interest," Drake dragged the word out, before sighing heavily and straightening himself out. "Let me stop you right there and point out something. The Suns are a dirty, filthy, no good breed, everyone knows that. But they're excellent at combat. We were at war with them for hundreds of years, a tie that wasn't going to end until the Rabbit interfered. And besides, it's only been less than twenty years since they called it all off. I sincerely doubt either side has improved enough to win a full scale war."

"You're exactly right," Mortimer replied, his smile never wavering. "We wouldn't stand a chance. Thank you for pointing that out."

Drake paused. "You're...welcome? I think?" Loathe as he was to admit it, now his curiosity was caught again.

"My plan entails wiping them all out in one blow!" Mortimer slammed his fist onto the table, making all the glasses rattle. "We won't need to send a single soldier over there to do the dirty work. We'll all remain safe and sound here, while they are sent off to meet their maker. History will call us the greatest heroes of all time! Our names will be immortal! And I know that's what you've all been craving." He gestured to Pete, who was nudging his empty glass between his big hands. "Ever since the war ended, you don't know what to do. You long for fights, no matter how short. I know you've been going back to the Forbidden Forest for fights with your mystery man!"

Pete swallowed audibly. "Let's say you're half right."

Mortimer went on, now pointing at Drake. "You just want to protect the Moon Kingdom, but everyone mocks your effort because you go the extra mile. If you work with me, people won't laugh at your purple mask anymore!"

Drake fingered the mask between his fingers before mumbling, "It's mauve."

Since Donald was closest to him, Mortimer grabbed his shoulder and held it tightly. "And then there's you, poor Donald Duck! Not only does your uncle treat you unfairly, but you have that crazy Daisy hounding you down every chance she gets. Once we finish this, she'll know she's not good enough for you, and you can get your hands on a real woman!"

Donald had been doing an excellent job in keeping his emotions under wraps today, even though this supposed plan was making him vastly uncomfortable. But now that Mortimer was on sensitive territory, his suppressed anger had started to bubble, shown by a twitch under his eye. "I get the point."

"You can finally be with a woman of society, instead of some floozy nutball who never shuts her big mouth beak!"

The twitch came faster. "I get it."

"Honestly, the second I marry Princess Minerva, that broad is out of there! I bet she's why the princess keeps running away! Talk about a terrible influence! I have half a mind to find her and-"

Mortimer wasn't sure how many bones made up a wrist, but he guessed at least one of them snapped when Donald grabbed ahold and twisted it around as much as he could. "And do what?" he growled, his anger leaking out like a dam ready to burst. "You really must have half a mind if you think I would ever go along with whatever you're planning! I'm not going to murder an entire population just because people give me and Daisy the stink eye!" He then slammed Mortimer's hand down, his fingers digging in. "And if you ever talk that way about her again, I'LL BASH YOUR BRAINS IN UNTIL YOU'VE GOT LESS THAN HALF!"

The other patrons in nearby booths and chairs had begun to turn at Donald's emotional outburst. Drake began to slide out of his seat. "I'm going to agree with the explosion here. I could never do that sort of thing and be able to look my daughter in the eyes again. Besides, I've got her, I've got Morgana, what do I care what other people think?" After smoothing down his clothes, he began to walk away, ready for Donald to follow him.

Donald also left his seat, but as Mortimer held up his aching wrist, the tutor leaned in to give one last warning. "If this is the kind of guy you really are, there's no way you're ever going to marry Princess Minerva. Not if I can help it! She deserves better!" Leaving that hanging in the air, he marched after Drake, his head held high. Let the people gawk and stare. He had no regrets about what he'd said.

"Ingrates," Mortimer grumbled, rubbing his aching wrist. His eyes then slowly slid back to Pete, who had been unusually quiet ever since the whole conversation began. Upon realizing that Pete had yet to make any objections to what had been said, Mortimer's sly smile reappeared instantly. "Maybe you are the smartest fellow here after all! I take it this means you're on board?"

It's difficult to paint people as wholly evil and wholly good. In the deepest reaches of his heart, Pete knew that this scheme wasn't the right thing to do. But yesterday he'd spent hours waiting for the Sun woman who never came, and he had felt disappointment that bogged down his entire body. He wanted to see her again and prove he was the strongest between the two of them. Unfortunately Mortimer had chosen the right words to sway Pete, and his fingers clenched, aching for the glory that came with a victory.

If what Mortimer said was right, he could have respect like he did back in the good old days. Maybe even the Queen would respect him. He wanted to be more than a forgotten relic and he needed to mean something to someone. That was why when he opened his mouth he said, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Excellent!" Mortimer offered his hand to shake, remembered that it was injured, and opted to use his other hand. "You've just made your own chapter in history! No one will forget your part in how you made this world a better place! Don't you worry about those ducks, they don't know what they're missing. In time, they'll see we're right. All I need is two pieces of this puzzle to fall into place. The first piece is where you come in."

Pete blinked slowly. "What about the other piece?" He was so drawn in on the mystery plan he didn't notice José had begun putting out his cigar on the adjacent table, the leftover smoke hiding his horrified reaction.

"I'm not exactly sure where to place it yet." Mortimer looked at his reflection in the wine. For a brief time, he recalled Princess Minerva's ballet, and how for one brilliant shining moment, he thought she loved him. "But I will soon. Scrooge McDuck has told me he's heard some odd noises coming from the marsh gardens sometimes..."

In the Sun Kingdom, any kind of rain was welcomed and celebrated. People would grab their pots and pans, anything that could hold water, and rush out to catch as much of it as possible. In times gone by, Mickey would have gone out and danced in the water, enjoying the feel of it on his fur and pushing Horace into puddles of fresh mud. Instead, he was inside the castle trying to listen to Horace's latest lesson. King Solaris also stood there, his back straight as he took up a corner. During the extremely long lecture after the New Year's disaster, he had made a vow to watch over Mickey's lessons with Horace, since the boy could no longer be trusted.

Horace had been among the spectators during the festival and he'd suspected that the "extra addition" in the usual dance battle hadn't been planned at all. It was confirmed when he came to work that day, feeling the heavy tension in the air. Mickey's typically mischievous face was downcast and worn out. Goofy kept his head low, only daring to look up every now and then. Solaris never took his eyes off of Mickey, even when Horace entered the room.

This sort of situation was exactly what Horace had been wishing out loud for some time, but it didn't feel like a win. He inhaled loudly before picking up a piece of chalk. "I suppose in light of what's happened, perhaps we should have a history lesson today, dating back to when the origins of the New Year's Festival started." When no one said a word, he began to draw a picture of the straw doll on the rocky material. "In ancient times, smaller versions of these dolls were used in a ritual to burn away a person's regrets that they gathered that year. It was seen as a way to better themselves for the upcoming year." Still nothing, and it was starting to creep him out. "As families and traditions merged, larger dolls were made to compose an entire family's regrets. Straw was gathered from each member of the family, and every generation made that family's doll bigger and bigger."

Horace spared a look behind him. Mickey was watching him, and actually appeared to be listening as best he could. It was as if his eyes were straining. It then occurred to Horace – what if the prince didn't just run away from the lessons because he found them dull? What if he ran away because he honestly couldn't follow it? Horace looked at the piece of chalk in his hands. The last time Mickey had absorbed a day's lesson was when they had gotten into an actual discussion between the two of them, a conversation of give and take.

Perhaps lessons didn't need to merely about talking and talking and talking. "But, maybe you'd learn it better if we made our own straw doll."

Even the King looked up at that, surprised. Mickey sat up taller. "What? Really?"

Horace found himself smiling and didn't know why. "What better way for you to understand how it worked? Plus it'll give you an appreciation for what your people went through." He then clapped, sending chalk dust around the air. "I'm sure we can find all the materials here in the castle, left over from the festival! We'll make it a class trip and all look together."

"That kinda sounds like fun," Goofy chirped, standing up on his feet.

Solaris pushed himself off of the corner wall. "It would be nice to move these old bones about."

Mickey was quiet again, but he followed the small group out of the room, his head a little higher than it was before. Unlike the Moon castle which was stuffed with servants all over, the Sun castle was often hollow and empty, save for this exact band of men. They explored all the different rooms, gathering straw, rope, and even ash to decorate their dolls. It was Goofy who suggested adding decorations like buttons and felt, and Horace explained how the tradition of the straw dolls became a unifying passion among all Suns. Even Solaris was learning a new thing or two, much to his own amusement. But throughout it all, Mickey never said a word.

Back in the lesson room, the men all sat down and began to tie their dolls together. Horace felt proud that he finally gotten something to sink into Mickey's head, but when he looked up, he saw that Mickey had stopped wrapping the straw to create the doll's left leg. "Your Highness?" he asked, waiting for a question, or maybe a complaint.

"It's not big enough," Mickey said, his voice a sad whisper.

Horace glanced at the doll, which to him seemed to be average sized. "What do you mean?"

"It's not big enough for all my regrets," Mickey replied, and that's when it happened. King Solaris, Goofy, and Horace had all been with Mickey ever since he was a child, and as a result, all three of them were shocked to the core to see Mickey suddenly burst into tears. This was no quiet quiver or subtle sob, this was wailing that would make a newborn stop to stare. The men couldn't remember the last time Mickey had shed a single tear, much less go into horrific hysterics. It left them utterly clueless as what to do.

"I've-I've-I've-" Mickey struggled to get out coherent words in the midst of his cries, as wet streams rolled down his orange cheeks. He had put the love of his life in unspeakable danger, as well as everyone in the kingdom he was meant to rule someday. He had put their lives at risk for fun. This pit of self-loathing was so new to the prince that it frightened him down to his soul. "I've been a rotten, no good, awful prince! I've been the worst friend ever! I don't – I don't deserve to have any of you! I only cared about myself! And-and-and I can't even say I'm sorry to my own people, cause they think it was all an act!"

Solaris looked at Horace who shrugged helplessly. Neither of them could figure out how to stop Mickey, or even if they should.

"I'm just a-a-a stupid kid!" Mickey shouted out, but his tears were finally paused when Goofy ever so gently stuck his arms under Mickey's armpits and lifted him up.

Goofy sat Mickey down on his lap and affectionately rubbed him between the ears. "Well now," he said after a moment, "I think it's good you admitted that."

Mickey sniffled, looking up at his best friend. "It is?"

"Sure is." Goofy smiled, continuing to pet him. "I mean, how else are you gunna learn if you don't admit you were wrong? Seems like a pretty good step to me. Proper apologies are real important, I figure."

"Maybe he should be the royal teacher," Solaris mused, stroking his beard.

Mickey hugged his knees and took three deep breaths before trying to speak again. "I don't want to put anyone in that kind of danger ever again. But now I can't trust myself at all. All I wanted to do was make someone special happy, but when other folks told me how it could hurt people, I didn't listen. I thought I was smarter than everyone else. How do I know I won't mess up again?"

"You don't know," Horace told him, setting aside his straw doll. "That's just it. None of us can ever be totally sure of our future or what we'll do. It's good that you regret your actions, but...in a way, this was necessary for you."

Mickey blinked quickly. "Necessary?"

"I agree." Solaris nodded slowly, clasping his weathered hands together, his own straw doll having uneven bits sticking out near the arms. "Sometimes you can't understand things until you do them the wrong way. It's an unfortunate part of life, but when you take a punch from a man, you know how to dodge the next one. You have done bad things, my son, but that doesn't make you a bad person."

Mickey knew this was supposed to cheer him up and make him reflect on things with better clarity. But the first thing it was doing was making him feel worse, because for all of his bratty behavior and selfishness, these people still loved him and wanted to help him. He still felt he didn't deserve any of this, and it brought back the full force of his tears. Mickey had tossed them all into the dirt for a love that he only now saw could bring about danger. He should never have placed Minnie on such a high pedestal – there should have been equality for her and his people.

Goofy hugged Mickey from behind, resting his head between his orange ears. "You let it out all you need to, buddy. It's all right."

So Mickey did – he let out his fears for his future, how he thought becoming an adult was some far off fantasy he would never touch, and how he had treated his own people as mere toys that existed only for his pleasure. He let out that he believed love was a magical cure-all that would solve all his problems without putting any real effort toward it. He let out how he saw Horace and Solaris as antagonists instead of aides, how he had made Goofy into a lowly servant instead of a loyal companion – and when he thought he had run out of things to let out, he at last said he worried he was never truly worthy of Minnie's love.

Horace was confused as to who "Minnie" was, unable to put the dots together just yet. Solaris didn't offer his own insight and allowed his son to say everything that needed to be said. When an eternity passed and Mickey was no longer crying, they broke apart their dolls, and created one large one together with their materials.

As they burnt it, Mickey gazed into the flames and felt strength return to his body. It was time to fix things.

There was another round of unusual silence going on the Moon kingdom. When they first returned to the kingdom and were inside the castle, Minnie expected a number of lectures from Daisy. Yet her usually chatty friend hadn't said anything at all, nor had she spoken a word that day. The castle employees wondered if she was finally shaping up and going to behave like a proper Moon. With the silence, Minnie felt as if she was all alone and it was worse than any lecture could have delivered.

It was only after Donald left after the day's lesson that Minnie lost her patience. She waited as Donald exited the room, and she stared at Daisy, waiting to hear her gush about the tutor but nothing came about. Driven to her wit's end, Minnie rushed out from her desk and grabbed ahold of Daisy's arm. "I'm sorry!" she pleaded, her voice desperate with agony. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what happened! Please, Daisy, don't ignore me like this!"

Mercifully, Daisy turned her head towards the princess, and brushed some stray bangs spilling onto her forehead. "It's something you will have to get used to anyway."

Minnie didn't let go of Daisy's arm, but she eased her grip somewhat. "What do you mean?"

"Queen Lune doesn't have a lady-in-waiting," Daisy pointed out, smoothing down her dress and avoiding Minnie's eyes temporarily. "No Queen ever has. Why should they? At that point, they've learned all they need to know, and don't need help anymore. One day, I'll have to leave and we'll never see each other again. So maybe we should start getting ready for that right away."

Minnie knew she should automatically object to that, but the words for it didn't come as fast as she wanted. Daisy was right and that was terrible. "But...but...That's not fair!" It felt childish on her tongue, yet true all the same. She shook her head hard in defiance, scrambling to come up with a better argument. "How could you possibly think I don't need you anymore? When I ignored you at the festival, I put my life in danger!"

"I know!" Now Daisy's voice came stronger, and her thin body began to shake, though she still wouldn't meet Minnie's face no matter how hard Minnie implored. "I know how close I came to losing you, but you don't get it. Once you and I are done, that's it for me. I don't have anyone else. So...I need to start living with that. I need to start learning how to live alone for the rest of my life."

"What in the world are you talking about?" Minnie walked around, trying to make Daisy look at her, still to no avail. "What about Morgana and José? They're your friends, they'll always care about you!"

Daisy closed her eyes and held them shut as tight as she could. If she cried now, she wouldn't last in a lonely future. "I'm just another customer to Morgana, and José has his customers! But they're all I have outside the castle. Even Donald doesn't care about me, no matter how hard I tried...but there's nothing I can do about any of this!" She stepped back, almost pushing the princess off of her. "No one wants me around because of how I dress and how I act! But I can't change who I am, and I don't understand why I have to." It was here her voice began to break, and the tears she had been so vigilantly to fight off came nonetheless. "Why is being the real me so horrible? Am...Am I really that awful to be around?"

Minnie not only had lost her ability to speak, but the strength of her legs gave way, and she sat on her large dress, stunned at the twofold revelation. How long had cheerful, peppy, always smiling Daisy been holding into this anguish? What kind of a friend was Minnie not to notice this? "No!" she suddenly spat out, her delicate fingers creating hardened fists. "No, you are not, and I command you to never say such a terrible thing about yourself again!"

Daisy had rarely, if ever, heard Minnie give anyone an actual command. Even to her own servants, Minnie politely asked others to do as she wished. "You command me?" It was so odd that she had to repeat it just to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

"Y-Yes, that's right!" Minnie held her head up, pushing her fists on the floor. "I am Princess Minerva Mouse, and everyone in the kingdom is to someday obey my orders, so you I'm telling you, you must never ever ever think you're unloveable! Because you are my dearest friend in the whole wide world, and I won't have you thinking I'd throw you away like a used napkin!" So this what it was like to be commanding. It didn't feel natural, but it wasn't as hard as Minnie had always imagined it to be. Was this what Queen Lune felt on a daily basis? On a balancing act between uncomfortable but strong?

Daisy's shoulders lowered, and the urge to weep lessened with each passing moment. "I suppose, if it is an order from Her Highness, it must be obeyed." She took her time in walking back to the princess, and gently put her arms around Minnie, holding her tenderly. "Silly girl. If you'd put half as much love into yourself as you do me and those around you..."

Minnie buried her cheek into Daisy's dress, returning the embrace just as strongly. "I'm so sorry that I didn't notice how sad you were. I really haven't been paying attention to anything but Mickey."

"Don't tell me you're going to dump him now, after everything," Daisy tried to joke, but the weakness in her voice made it difficult. But the fact that Minnie didn't immediately deny it made her worried, and she knelt down, holding Minnie's hands within her own.

"Things need to change," Minnie said after a deep breath. "Not just with Mickey and me, but with everything here. You still need to help me become a proper, strong Queen who can make change. I'm still going to make so many mistakes. So you can't leave my side. Understand?"

At last Daisy smiled. It seemed like forever since she last had such an expression, but it felt like it'd been missing its home and was eager to return. "Of course, Minnie. I won't leave you, not until you tell me so yourself." Which now Daisy doubted would ever come, regardless of what was proper of a Queen to do. The girls held each other, taking quiet comfort in their warmth and the patters of rain out on the balcony.

It had also been raining on the day they first met, when Minnie was out in the kingdom looking for the perfect servant. While others offered umbrellas and the shelter of their homes, it was Daisy who danced in the drops and pulled Minnie along to do the same. Daisy had no idea she was playing with royalty – she only knew she saw a lonely girl who needed a smile.

Peg was also feeling lonely, but not in the soul-crushing way that Daisy had admitted to. She hadn't seen Millie since the New Year's Festival, nor Panchito. She suspected that odd fat loaf that kept destroying her wares wouldn't be in the forest today due to the rain, and she didn't understand why that added to her unhappiness. Of course, what really helped was that in this precise moment, she was literally all by herself.

As much fun as drinking and dancing were, rain was something the Sun Kingdom couldn't afford to lose. All the dancers and usual patrons were outside trying to fill their share of water. Peg had already filled three jugs worth and had run out of things to fill up. Bored and alone, Peg was in the empty bar trying to find any left behind coins and cleaning up here and there. She contemplated visiting Millie later on in the day – that "extra act" in the Festival had spooked the living daylights out of the poodle. Peg was unsure if it really had been planned, and tried to ask Panchito about it once the show ended.

But the moment it had, Panchito had sprinted back to the bar and locked himself up in the wine cellar. No amount of flirting from the girls or singing from the customers would get him to come out. Peg sat on a wobbly table and sighed. "Maybe this place isn't the worst," she said out loud to herself. If she missed Millie and Panchito's company, who she had only met because of the bar, then maybe the bar wasn't such a shameful place to work at. "I wonder what that big tub of lard is doing?"

Peg heard a choked gasp,and she turned to see Clara Cluck standing in the entrance, looking aghast. "Oh, hey there, Clara." It took Peg a few seconds to realize why Clara appeared so insulted. "Oh, no, I wasn't talking about you, Clara!" It caused her to laugh. "Trust me, the guy I'm thinking of has got a way bigger gut than yours."

"Thanks?" Clara wasn't sure what to do with that information. She walked inside, shaking rainwater off of her feathers. "Why aren't you outside with everyone else?"

Peg shrugged one shoulder, and a loose sleeve fell off. "I've got my fair share already. I swear, those people, we'd get a huge flood and they'd be jumping for joy." She then paused, and slid off the table onto her feet. "I could ask the same about you, though. What brings you in on the quietest day at the bar?"

Clara looked down, shuffling her awkward feet around the dirty floor. "Um, well. I'm not sure if Panchito told you, but he and I...we sort of had a fight a while ago, and I wanted to talk about it." While Clara still believed Mickey was playing a dangerous game, there had been guilt in her heart about casting Panchito out of her life. Maybe it had been unfair to judge everything without having all the details, and if her friend was willing to give them, she wanted to hear it all from the beginning. Plus she missed him terribly, even if she wasn't special to him.

Peg snorted with wide, open nostrils. "Told us? Honey, Panchito never 'tells' us about anything! He just says how pretty we are and then moves on. You're probably the only one he ever has an actual conversation with. I figured it was a bird thing." Missing Clara's surprised reaction, Peg walked until she was on top of the cellar door in the floor. "Anyway, good luck trying to get a word out of him. Ever since the festival ended, he hasn't left the cellar. Watch." She cleared her throat, and then stomped her foot three times in rapid succession. "Hey, birdbrain, do you want this place to go under? If you drink all that booze, there won't be anything left for anyone else!

Clara yelped, covering her beak with her hands. "Drinking all that – do you really think he's drinking everything in there?' The wine cellar was packed full of barrels from top to bottom. If Panchito was truly drinking every single drop inside, he wouldn't live long enough to enjoy the buzz after.

Peg hopped off the door. "I thought I heard drinking sounds earlier. Besides, what else would he be – hey!" Any ideas as to what else Panchito could be doing were interrupted when Clara rushed ahead, accidentally knocking Peg over. The lady hen may have seemed fragile in nature, but when she grabbed ahold of the locked door, the creaking and groaning of the hinges was enough to prove that her girth was more than stomach. Peg couldn't even get angry, she was too impressed as the display of strength in front of her. She was even tempted to applaud once the door was finally wrestled open, but Clara didn't stick around for her audience.

"Panchito!" Clara called out as she began to descend the ladder. "Panchito, whatever you're doing, you'd better stop!" She couldn't think of what to threaten him with as she came closer to the floor. It soon became apparent that Peg wasn't merely speculating. Many barrels had been toppled over, their precious cargo spilling onto the ground. Panchito was shaking from head to toe, his eyes worn out from endless tears. Just as he was trying to dunk the mug into an open barrel, Clara called out again.

"Panchito, stop it!" Once on the floor, Clara ran forward, and unable to think of anything else, she slammed her body into the open barrel. It fell onto its side, splashing its contents out. Panchito made a strange gurgled cry, trying to cup whatever he could get into his hands. "Panchito, STOP!" Now truly desperate, Clara slapped Panchito across the face, though she didn't mean to send him spiraling towards the ground. The drunken rooster dropped his mug, sitting up on the floor dizzily.

"What are you doing?" Clara asked, grabbing Panchito by the shoulders and trying to force him onto his feet. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"But don't you see, Clara?" Panchito's voice was slurred and hysteric, his head flopping backward with his eyes on the ceiling, yet his vision was off somewhere far away. "It's coming! The war, it's coming back!"

"The war?" she asked incredulously, but didn't ease her grip. "Is this because of what I said? Because of what Prince Mickey is doing with the Princess of the Moon Kingdom?" She swallowed, trying to connect the dots but she didn't have all the lines. "Are you really that afraid of war?"

"You don't know what war does! No one does, not until it's too late!" Panchito was yelling at the top of lungs yet didn't seem to realize he was doing so. His arms lay limp at his sides, and upon closer inspection, Clara saw that some of his feathers had been ripped off. "War makes men into animals! It makes the innocent into targets! I can't go through it again! I can't! The Phoenix ignores my prayers, and the screams keep coming! Both kingdoms will be devoured in flames, just as we deserve!"

Clara was at a complete loss as to how to calm Panchito down or make him coherent. She looked around the room, but saw nothing that could aide her. Then for a moment she saw Panchito's back reflected in the wine, and she could see the tattoo on his back that had once held a soldier's insignia. "Panchito...what happened to you during the war?"

"What happened?!" he cried out, and then he grasped his head with both hands. "I happened! I took honor in every Moon that lay helpless at our feet! It became a game between me and the other soldiers! I wanted to keep winning! All for the glory of the Sun! All for the Phoenix! I saw honor in it, nobility, and I wanted to prove how much better we were!" As he screamed, he began to fall onto his knees. "I went ahead, ignoring orders. I wanted to get to the Moon kingdom and get a head start on my score. What did I care? They were just Moons!"

Clara was afraid for what she was to hear, but she didn't stop him. Instead she sat down on the floor as the rooster ducked his head lower and lower. "The first building I found, I set it aflame! I didn't care who was inside, I didn't think – I didn't know – I didn't realize - " He then slammed his fists into the pools of wine, splattering the liquid all over. "It was a school!"

Even to this day, Panchito could hear the screams of little children calling for their mothers, see the frightened teachers rushing the small ones out as fast as they could, and try as he might for years, the wine never erased a single solitary detail. Panchito's fingers pressed into his face, as if ready to tear out his own eyeballs. "Tiny niños, their faces burnt, the teachers' clothes lit aflame, but – but how did I never realize they had children?! That they had women and innocents just as we did? And they'll all suffer, Sun and Moon alike, I know it! I can't escape it! It's my fate to hear them forever!"

Clara didn't know when she too had started weeping. She took a quick glance above, and thankfully Peg hadn't been listening to anything that had been said. She had probably decided to give them privacy and left the bar – or gone to the forest to wait for her mystery man. Panchito was sure that a sickened Clara would leave as soon as possible and keep her word that she wouldn't speak to him again.

Only then did Panchito put the pieces together and realize that Clara hadn't kept her word about that in the first place. He lifted his head, and Clara blinked back at him, wondering if he had more to confess. She hadn't felt it was her place to say anything, nor could she find any words that could possibly comfort a man who had been tormented for years. Panchito finally managed to say something that wasn't screamed at the top of his lungs. "You're here."

She waited a moment, unsure if she was supposed to confirm the obvious. "Well, yes. Yes, I am."

"You said you wouldn't talk to me again."

"Yes. I did. But I changed my mind. I'm allowed to do that, I think." Clara put her hands together, twiddling her thumbs. "I still think the Prince needs to think about his kingdom before any girl. But I'd like to know how it all happened, if you know it. And I promise not tell a soul."

"You're here," Panchito said again, blinking slowly.

"Uh, yes, I believe we already established that."

"You're here."

"Oh, dear." Clara sighed, and then got back onto her feet. "I think we need to get all the alcohol out of your system. And get some real food into you. And a bath. Maybe not necessarily in that order." She then lifted Panchito up and hoisted him over her shoulder. "I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't throw up on me, by the way. Here we go."

"You're here."

"Yes, Panchito, yes I'm here." Maybe, along the way of things they needed to do, she'd find a way to comfort him and offer him the words he needed to hear. She had to wonder if other soldiers in the war were similarly haunted by their pasts, and that's why people never went into detail about the supposed glorious war. Oh well, that was no business of hers. For now she had a friend to take care of. If only she could figure out how stop the screams in his head.

Never did it occur to her that as he kept repeating, "You're here", he heard nothing but her footsteps as they went up the ladder.

The sun had fallen but the rain had yet to let up. Millie suspected she'd be hearing it all night, which was just as well since she didn't plan on sleeping. She certainly hadn't the night before, as the memories of the festival were still burned into her skull. Though she didn't entirely understand what had happened, she knew that if she had kept Goofy distracted a second longer, the prince would have been killed. Greedy as she was, maliciousness was not a part of her. She had never wished for harm upon another, even for the sake of her goals.

There was a knock on her wall, since the Sun kingdom lacked doors. She didn't have to think hard about who it could have been. Millie didn't bother standing up as she looked to see Goofy, who was dripping wet but smiling as if it was sunnier than summer. "Hiya, Millie. How you been?"

"Just the man I wanted to see." Millie had used this line before on the bodyguard, but this time it contained none of its usual flirtation or sweetness. "Sit down. We need to talk."

"Okey-dokey." Goofy sat across from her on the floor, slapping his hands on his legs. "Whaddya wanna talk about?"

Millie rubbed her face, feeling the bags under her eyes. "You're a good man. Better than most. Better than what I'm used to. What I saw at the New Year's Festival...you didn't just get to be where you are because of your father. You earned the right to be by the prince's side. You deserve all that you've earned in life, and so much more. You – you deserve to be with someone better."

Goofy made a "hm" noise and tilted his head, the rainwater on his ears dripping off. "This is some kinda talk, Millie."

Millie wasn't wholly surprised that she'd have to spell it out for him, but it was uncomfortable all the same. She rolled her shoulders and cast her eyes away, not wanting to draw this out and make it hurt any worse. "I didn't start hitting on you because I liked you. I've been trying to make you marry me so I could have your money."

Goofy looked up, then tilted his head in a different direction, and then nodded. "Yup, that all adds up."

Maybe she should have suspected that, like all their other encounters, Goofy would throw her a giant curveball. Millie's muscles went rigid. "What? You mean you knew? All this time, you knew I was just stringing you along?"

Goofy raised a hand, making a wavey motion. "Kinda. I mean, shoot, you knew nothing about me when we first talked except where I worked. Folks don't fall in love for no reason, I figured."

"Then why in the world have you kept this up?" Millie snapped, the bells on her clothes jingling along with her anger. "I know you by now, you're not the kind of guy who has his way with women and tosses them aside! If you knew I was playing you, why did you let me? Even you're not that...that goofy!"

The bodyguard closed his eyes, resting his head in one hand as he recalled the day that was so long ago but was still as fresh as yesterday. "When I first saw you dancing in the bar, I thought you were awful pretty, and had a real nice smile on. But you had the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. And I couldn't figure out how someone could dance all pretty-like, but still be so sad. Guess I was curious. And I wanted to see if I could get you to not be so sad anymore." As with most of Goofy's logic, he'd thought this had been obvious to everyone around him, which was why he'd never bothered to explain it. "And along the way-"

"That's ridiculous!" Millie cut him off, and now she was standing above him, hands on her hips. "You think you know me so well? Nobody does! Not even I do! This is all an act, every piece of it! The dancing, the way I talk, the way I walk, everything about me is a fabrication!"

Goofy blinked twice. "Is it?"

"Of course it is! Everything I am is designed to make men adore me! There's..." Her voice began to weaken, much to her own horror, and she tried to force strength back into it. "There's nothing real about me. I'm just what everyone wants me to be. It's like there's always been this big, beautiful story, and I have to do whatever I can to look like I belong! How can you possibly want to be with someone who doesn't exist?"

"But you do exist." Goofy wasn't arguing it with emotion or even trying to put Millie at ease. He simply saw things as they were, nothing more and nothing less. "You're standing right in front of me."

"That's not what I mean!" Millie stamped her foot down, growing more frustrated by the second. "You can't love what isn't there! Do you even know the first thing about love?"

Goofy shrugged. "Do you? Does anyone?"

Millie tried to counterpoint and literally point with her finger, but nothing came about. So Goofy kept talking. "Way I see it, love works different for everybody. Ain't no two people that feel the same way about it. That's why you got all them love poems and stories and plays for people tryin' to explain it their way. I don't see anythin' wrong with that. And I don't see anythin' wrong with you. If you don't think there's a real Millie around, maybe we can find her together. I think that'd be all right." He smiled, and waited.

Millie grunted, hemmed, hawed, and made a great many number of noises. Here she was trying to break things off for his own good, and he had to throw a wrench in that as well. She never did have any idea what she was getting into with him. She made airy gestures with her hands, trying to articulate something, but gave up. He wouldn't understand no matter what she said - or maybe it was the other way around. "What if you don't like the real Millie?"

Another shrug. "Won't know unless I try. Maybe we should start things over, if you're so worried about it all." He then clapped his hands loudly, and bowed his head as if that would dump out all his memories. He lifted his head, smiling warmly again. "My name is Goofy. I'm the bodyguard to Prince Mickey. Sure is nice to meet you!"

Deflated, Millie sat back down and laid her head on his shoulder, not caring that his fur was still very damp. "My name is Millie – Millicent. Millicent Manchester. I'm a dancer. It's...it's nice to meet you too, Goofy." Somebody needed to take care of him and point out the obvious. Apparently that duty fell upon her.

"Well then, Miss Millicent, why are you a dancer?"

Millie closed her eyes, and her hand found his. "When I was a little girl, I thought it would make the Phoenix look at me more than anyone else. I would practice from sunrise to sunset, even when the music was only in my head..." Goofy wound up staying over all night, and get a fair bit of teasing about it from King Solaris. Horace merely rolled his eyes, and Mickey politely asked this and that, wanting to know all about Goofy's girl.

Come morning, the rain had cleaned up all of the previous day's messes. The Sun people tucked away their extra water and eagerly waited for the next rainfall. For many, they considered it a very good day.