Better Late than Never, right?

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Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Mario or its franchise. It belongs to Nintendo and creators.


Chapter Forty-Nine


"There's been a change of plans."

That was how Ludwig would have greeted his sister if she were actually there, in the clearing within the Black Forest where they'd made camp. Right then she was nowhere to be found and Ludwig was left standing there, the bloody and unconscious Daisy in his arms, wondering where the hell his younger sibling had gone off to. He need only shift the girl in his arms so that he could press his index finger to the side of his forehead, under his blue hair. He shut his eyes and pin-pointed her location to be...about a quarter mile from where he stood. He concentrated harder until an image of her and her surroundings came into view; she was at a creek, speaking with someone she definitely had no business. He sighed and shook his head, thinking perhaps he'd laid too much responsibility on his sister in bringing her along on this mission.

He couldn't leave the injured young woman alone in the clearing, her wounds and the guards lurking about made that out of the question. So he brought her along with him as he tracked down his foolish younger sibling. He was at that creek in no time, and when there, both parties were startled to see him and the girl who he carried.

"Ludwig, is that-"

"Daisy?"

Wendy had initially spoken, but it was the flabbergasted plumber who'd finished her inquiry with no small measure of disbelief. The prince of the Mushroom Kingdom was with a score of his men, and he was outraged to see the girl his brother adored all battered like she was.

"What did you do to her, you little punk?" Mario asked bluntly, "Did you turn on her? And where's my brother?"

"So nice to see you as well," Ludwig remarked with a tight smirk.

"Well?" Mario ignored his greeting, "Aren't you gonna' tell me what's going on?"

He'd been slighted, Ludwig had. Plus he didn't want to speak to the plumber in the first place. He couldn't stand him. Luigi he tolerated, Luigi he found somewhat companionable but his brother? Not at all. And since he wasn't going to say a word in defense of himself against those accusations, or explain to the plumber what was up, Wendy did both for him.

"My brother hasn't turned on anyone," She said, "And like I told you, he and I are headed to get Luigi and Daisy out of there. Er, well, I guess he already got her but..."

She was confused as well now.

Mario scoffed and said, "No offense, kid, but I don't much trust the word of a thirteen year old in this type of situation."

"I'm fifteen," she corrected, "And I know what's going on. Sorta. I'm on this mission with Ludwig and I."

"Be quiet, Wendy."

"Huh?"

Ludwig said again, more sharply, "Be quiet. You've already said too much."

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Wandering from your station, divulging confidential details to a hostile; you're not ready for this." He said quietly.

The ex-enforcer stood and left Daisy, coming towards her.

"I don't understand." She said slowly.

"I know." Ludwig stated, "That's why I'm sending you back home."

"But-"

"No protests, please. I'm not in the mood." He cut her off.

She acquiesced, opting to take her brother's hand and let him teleport her back to the bunker. When he returned, alone this time, he gazed coldly at Mario.

"I really, really, don't like you. But I need you to do something for me."

"And what makes you think I will?" Mario huffed.

"You want to save your brother, don't you?" Ludwig challenged.

"You got me there," Mario admitted gruffly, "So what do you want?"

"I don't know yet." Ludwig shrugged.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean, I'll tell you when I get a plan in mind." The Commander Elite explained, "Right now, I have bigger issues to deal with."

Such as how the hell am I supposed to govern the soldiers at Chai, gather intel from the bastard's palace, and nurse this girl back to the land of the living all at once.


For nearly 50 hours they'd been at it, working in alternating shifts of two serving as medics while one slept. For the entire time they worked in a silent, methodical way but now they were beginning to crack under the pressure. A simple misunderstanding turned into an altercation riddled with agitation and frustration.

"I specifically asked for the salve." Rhimes said curtly.

"I clearly heard you say salt." Grimus replied.

"Well I didn't; and furthermore, why would I need salt, for Merlin's sake?"

"To dip the needle in, of course." Grimus stated matter-of-factly.

"That won't ensure a straight and tidy suture; don't you know that's only a myth?" Rhimes scowled disdainfully.

"Were it not for all your canting and whining, our job would have been done by now." Grimus sighed.

"I should hope you've been keeping him hydrated for all your inadequacy." Rhimes clipped, ignoring his Court-mate.

"I have." The mystical man bristled, then sneered, "Here is your precious salve."

Their quarreling nearly woke the other magician who, in the infirmary, was lying on a wooden bench. The thing was pushed against the opposite wall and was far too short for the wizened mystic's body, thus was the reason his legs hung over the edge. The whole office was too small, and there was naught to blame but the arrogance of the being now spread across the operating table: because the Dark King was never one to believe he'd ever have use for such a room, it was hard getting any funding at all for an infirmary to be built just for his use. The ones down in the lower atrium of the palace were all booked for their intended purpose of dealing with the troops so, ironically, the royal infirmary His Majesty once scorned had now come in handy. No, more than that: it had saved his life.

"He should be conscious and at rights again by evening." Rhimes remarked tiredly.

Grimus said, "And by the gods, will he be angry."

"Angry?" Rhimes parroted, "Angry is too gentle a term."

"Infuriated." Grimus amended.

"Murderous." Rhimes murmured reverently.

"Indeed," Grimus said solemnly.

All three magicians had probed his mind and were unanimously in awe of what had transpired. That slip of a girl had bested their king. That was a humbling pill for them to swallow, they who had harassed and antagonized that same girl from the start and had thought her so weak and unimpressive.

"Where do you think she is?" Grimus then asked.

"Far from here," Rhimes guessed, "if she knows what's good for her."


Where am I?

Daisy blinked and swallowed air, seeing as that was all that was in her mouth. Her tongue felt like dry adhesive as it stuck to the roof of her mouth. She made a face because she had morning breath to the extreme; sour taste and a dull burn in the back of her throat. But that was nothing compared to how she the rest of her body was feeling.

What happened? Why do I feel like I got trampled by a herd of wild, raging moo-moos?

Once the answer made itself known, she again made a face, this one of despair. She did remember what happened, she finally made her move. She'd overcome the king and not easily at all. But had it been enough?

It had to have been, otherwise...

No, she didn't even want to think about that. Already her mind was kick-starting and she lost whatever dredges of tiredness that was trying to cling to her in this early morning. Well, it looked like morning from her point of view. There was a wide window over to her right and it just poured in all the light from outside, blinding her even when she had the sheer veil to dilute the sunshine.

Wait a minute!

She gave her surroundings a cursory examination. The veiled canopy, the queen-sized mattress with white and yellow bedding, the homemade quilt from long ago, the one her Nanna made with the bright red heart in the middle: it all set off these little bells in her head. But the thing that made her suck in a breath was him, sitting there all innocuously as if he were waiting for her all these years. His grin was still a crooked red seam of a smile and his ears were both lopsided like she recalled. Seeing him again after all this time was like being punched in the gut. Her eyes prickled as she yanked him towards her chest and squeezed the non-existent life out of him. Having him in her arms was the last straw, she couldn't hold in her tears anymore.

Being in her room was one thing, but having her old teddy bear, too? It was too much. Her parents had done this together, made this for her. Well, her mother had done all the sewing and her father had presented it to her on her fourth birthday. But they were both gone, everything about her old life was gone. For her to be here, in the bedroom she grew up in, after everything that had happened these last few weeks; it was a powerful contrast.

What's going on? How did I get here? I remember when I was in the kitchen, but that's about it.

"Morning, Princess."

Oh, but of course, she thought, of course he would have something to do with all this.

Daisy wiped her arm across her face to be rid of those hot tears and then regarded the regal figure near the door. He came bearing a tray of what looked and smelled like breakfast. Ludwig set the tray down next to where she had her legs curled under herself. Daisy's mouth watered at the sight of the food, but she had a more pressing issue that needed to be addressed.

"How did I get here?" she asked.

The ex-enforcer replied, "I brought you."

"Why?"

"You know why," He told her, "Don't you know what you did?"

She nodded and said, "I stabbed him again."

"Sweetheart, you did more than that." Ludwig smirked.

Daisy wrung her hands and stated, "I know what you told me, but I had to do it. If I didn't...if I didn't kill him, he'd only kill me and more people."

The Commander Elite was quiet a moment. She took his silence for ire and wrung her hands even more. She didn't regret what she'd done, but she didn't feel good about it either. It didn't make her feel like a hero. Just a murderer, a wicked person.

"I hate to tell you, love," Ludwig said softly, "But the bastard isn't dead."

"What?"

"He's not dead." Ludwig repeated. "Valiant as your efforts were, they weren't enough."

Daisy's face fell as she stammered, "What? But he, he was-"

"In a coma. Has been for two days." He finished for her. "You should be proud for accomplishing that much."

No she didn't feel proud, she was scared. Terrified. It showed in the way her eyes widened and wet, and in the way her body stiffened. Ludwig sighed and began to pace.

"I swear, though, you do know how to complicate things." He told her. "You couldn't just do as I say, could you?"

"I-"

"Don't answer that, it was rhetorical." He cut in, "A day and a half and I would have been there, but you couldn't wait, could you?"

"He was-"

"Rhetorical." Ludwig clipped, "Listen, what's done is done. Although I don't fault you for what you did, I can't say it wasn't so very inconvenient."

This time Daisy snapped, "Well forgive me for imposing on your high time in the palace, but I was going through hell over there!"

Ludwig remarked in a quiet voice, "You have no idea what I've been doing for this country, for you. But that's alright, I was never after your gratitude in the first place."

Now she felt duly chastened and looked down and away. It wasn't right for her to lash out at him. He had done everything he said he would from the start. Maybe he hadn't been around the entire time, but he was there for her when it mattered most. And now he'd taken her from the Dark King and had set her up where she was most comfortable, was feeding her and was probably the one who'd tended to her wounds because every one of them were patched. Before she got the chance to apologize, the young man spoke again.

"As for your having gone through hell," He said, then shook his head as if that were answer enough.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked again, this time with emphasis on the location.

Ludwig said, "I have work to do here and you needed to be far from the bastard."

"Won't he come?" She feared.

"Don't fret," Ludwig shrugged, "He has no idea you're from here. Or does he?"

Daisy was about to answer but she shut her mouth and thought for a moment. She had to glean over the memories she had of what she told him and then she paled upon recalling all that she'd said.

"What did you say?" Ludwig asked knowingly.

"I'm sorry."

"What did you tell him?"

"He asked me who I was working for," She admitted, "and I told him it was you. From the very beginning. But I thought it wouldn't matter because-"

"He'd be dead?" Ludwig finished, "Well he's not. So once again, I marvel at how much you complicate things."

"I'm sorry." She told him again.

She meant it, too. If she'd known her actions would be in vain, she wouldn't have said a thing. Or she would have lied some more, but now she'd put Ludwig's position in jeopardy and the king was still alive-oh God he was still alive!

"It doesn't matter." The ex-enforcer shrugged.

He kept pacing but didn't seem worried like she figured he'd be. That puzzled her.

"Ludwig," She began cautiously, "I told him about you, and the mission. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Not really."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" He countered, "You're acting as if he can actually do me harm."

"Can't he?"

"Not by this point."

"...I'm so confused."

"I'm not surprised," He remarked, "What I mean is that he knows I'm an invaluable ally and right now that's all that matters. He won't touch me so long as this war goes on, he needs me."

"That might not last very long," she predicted.

"I don't need it to."

Why does he always have to be so very cryptic, Daisy wondered.

"So what now?" She asked him.

Ludwig said, "We bring this to a close."

"How are we gonna' do that?"

"Let me do the 'doing', sweetheart. You got beaten and stabbed, I think you better take it easy and stay here."

Daisy shook her head and said, "I feel alright, I can-"

"Stay here." He interjected, "You say you feel 'alright', but do you know how much energy it took, energy I didn't have mind you, to make that happen?"

She murmured, "Thank you, but-"

"This isn't up for debate, woman. You're staying here." He commanded.

"I can't!" She protested, "Luigi is still there!"

"And what will you accomplish by returning to the palace? Yours and his death?"

"I don't have to go back," she said, "but I have to do something."

"You'll be doing plenty for him if you just stay here, trust me." Ludwig stated, "He wouldn't want you around if he knew what was going on."

And she knew he was right about that. Luigi would hate to hear of how she was risking her life to come back and save him, without any plan at all. But she still hated to sit here in a cushy palace and do nothing.

Ludwig told her, "Just let me handle this."

"How can I trust you to bring him out of there?"

"Have I let you down so far?" He challenged.

She hesitated. "Not really, but-"

"Then just stay here." He ordered.

"Ludwig, wait!" She called as he headed for the door.

The young leader stopped and turned towards her impatiently. She looked upon his sharp emerald eyes and wondered if it was bravery or arrogance that kept his features flawlessly controlled in the face of dealing with such a precariously dangerous situation. It was most likely a mix of both.

"What is it?" He asked her softly.

She breathed in and said, "Thank you again. And please be careful."

He smirked and said easily, "Don't worry, I got this."


Just looking at the metal cooking apparatus made him cringe, so naturally he had the thing outlawed in his kingdom. It was the first thing he decreed once he came to. No one in the Badlands was to be caught dead using a frying pan unless they had a death wish, for the new law was punishable by way of immediate execution.

Reasonable, the Dark King was not.

He was too angry and slighted for that, because as soon as he saw what he looked like this morning, he hadn't been right since. His body was fine, it always did well in recovering quickly. But his head, near the temple, had to be bandaged still, for the area was yet tender and bruised. It was the only part of him that hadn't bounced back. It was an embarrassment and a reminder that he'd been overcome by that. That little.

Damn that girl, he seethed, just wait until I get my hands on her!

But he'd be lying if he said, deep down under that hatred and spite, he wasn't impressed with her, to a degree. She had done what others perhaps could do, but had never had the chance. She'd beaten him senseless, and that was a first for anyone. Once that pan was in her hands, he was down, and it wounded his pride immensely. He was running the scenario through his head again and again, wondering how he could've been so stupid and blind, how she could've turned the situation around so fast.

I was right, though, he knew, the girl tried to kill me. She came too close, too. But never again. When I find her, I'll make sure she knows who she belongs to. She won't be so quick to defy me once I break that rebellious spirit.

He sneered, thinking, it was cute at first. That obstinacy, that fight in her. But now she's gone too far. A good little slave knows not to turn on her master.

It could have been all the head trauma dementing his thoughts, or perhaps it was an attest to his own perversion, but he no longer thought of the girl as anything but his own. He still wanted her and was torn between torturing her in his dungeons or in his bed when he got her back again. Because he would be getting her back.


A/N: Short again, but hey; it's here, heh. Tell me what you think, guys and girls! The story is winding down, if you can tell, so how do you think it'll end? Don't worry, we still have a few more chapters left, but yeah. It's coming to a close, like Ludwig said.

Go ahead and leave your reviews and your predictions and thoughts and emotions, I'll take them all! And don't forget to stay tuned for the next installment!

~DymondGold~