Birth. I have never been less excited about a story prompt. Birth is gross and I have no desire to talk about it. Besides, as far as I can tell, things in the Marioverse either hatch from eggs or come from the stork (seriously). I don't think anything GIVES birth, so I decided to come up with something else. Oh well, enjoy the story.
It had been a wet spring the year Bowser proclaimed his love for her. Peach sighed and pulled her shawl tightly around her as she sat a comfy chair in the royal records archive. There, she poured over dozens of records of all her kidnappings over the years. The documentation was immaculate; it included time of day, place of abduction, specific perpetrators, method of kidnapping, possible motivations and demands of kidnappers, duration of absence before rescue, damage estimates, photographs, and many other details.
Unsurprisingly, the records were mostly centered on Bowser's frequent abductions. Though the sheer number of incidents was a national disgrace, the records seemed to tell a story.
In the beginning, the records showed Darklandian armies advancing upon the castle and blowing huge holes in the palace walls. Destruction to the kingdom was widespread and rampant, millions of coins worth of damaged infrastructure and hundreds injured in these attacks. Bowser would demand full control of the kingdom and surrounding territories. That was back when he still locked me in a cell and did his best to frighten me.
Later, the kidnappings became more creative and somewhat less destructive. Once, he lifted her entire castle into the sky on top of his own. The damage was mostly foundational, along with severe damage to the fountain, landscaping, and plumbing (which ironically kept the Mario Brothers employed for several months after the attack). Other times, he would just break a window and take her away. He had stopped making demands, instead making it clear that he had no intention on ever returning the princess to the Mushroom Kingdom, whether it was his or not. It had become clear that he was determined to have her rule by his side.
Peach gently pressed her tired eyes with her fingertips. Glancing out the window, she could see the late afternoon sun struggling to peek out of the grey clouds. She had been researching all day, but nothing she read had brought her any form of relief, any answers. She couldn't even bring herself to feel angry with Bowser for all the wrongs he had committed against her. It all seemed so…
She sighed and gathered the paperwork, returning it to the archivist. She bowed her head in thanks and quickly made her way out the door, into the drizzly afternoon air. She took a brisk walk around the premises, trying to clear her mind. What did it all mean? What should she do? What was right?
Rose vines crept up firm lattice in the gardens surrounding the archives, but she was so lost in thought that she could not see them. In fact, she didn't notice a thing until she came across a patch of fluffy, white dandelions. Oh! She had wandered so far that she was out of the well-manicured gardens and into a wet, grassy meadow.
She gently plucked one of the dandelions, taking care to ensure it remained intact. She examined it closely and determined it has about as many seeds as times she had been kidnapped. Uncountable. Could she ever forgive him? Maybe she already had; kidnapping was as much a part of Bowser as his loud voice and fiery red hair. Still…
Before she passed away, Peach's grandmother once told her that one could put all her worries into the seeds of the dandelions and scatter them to the wind. Where each seed landed, a tiny fairy would be born in a yellow flower and she would take care of the worry. When she was all done, the yellow flower would turn white and fluffy so that the next person could share their troubles.
But, she always said with a laugh, the gardeners pull all of the dandelions out of the royal gardens because royalty has too many worries and the world would become overrun with dandelions if they shared them all.
Peach smiled. Well…maybe just this once…
She took a deep breath and scattered her worries to the wind.
