Cassandra's Off Day

"Sometimes, you just have to bow to the absurd and take it in stride. If you cannot, well, I offer my condolences to your peace of mind."

– Jean-Luc Picard

There are certain expectations held by many young minds of how the world works. Since the beginning of history, there has been one such long-standing belief. A cherished and respected philosophy, if you will. It says that everything in the world can be understood, that the universe follows certain laws without fail and that each of those laws can be contained within the human mind.

That philosophy is known as Complete and Utter Nonsense. The wiser amongst humanity understood that life in fact followed a strict set of rules and expectations, except when it didn't.

It was a lesson that Cassandra learned as she stared slack jawed in a rare, undignified manner.

Her father, Captain Stilton, was the finest guardsman in Corona. His skill with the blade was surpassed only by his impeccable character and devotion to the crown. No criminal that set foot in their borders had escaped his grasp in almost twenty years. When she had delivered word that Flynn Rider was in town, her father immediately assembled his finest men and rode off to apprehend the outlaw. There was no doubt that he would return victorious as always with a beaten Rider locked in chains and pleading for mercy. And so, here she stood proudly in wait at the Royal Guard's barracks, ready to give her father a hero's welcome. Cassandra had already sent word to the other servants to groom the Royal Guard's best dress uniforms and for the cooks to prepare for a celebratory feast. Corona would be praised for the capture of the legendary fugitive. Justice would be served as it always was.

Fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

There was no way in Heaven or on Earth Cassandra could have foreseen or even considered possible what was happening before her. For perhaps the fiftieth time, she blinked her eyes to make sure that what she was seeing now was not an illusion. But no matter how many times she did so, things were just as they seemed, which meant as impossible as it was, reality reigned supreme.

For indeed, everyone was a mess. Dressed in breakfast, lunch, and part of dinner, her father and the thirteen members of the Royal Guard returned to the palace barracks with bruises, shame and a very distinct absence of Flynn Rider as a prisoner.

"Father, did you get attacked by a party?"

Captain Stilton groaned as he and the others dismounted their horses. "I only wish it were that simple, Cassandra. No, our quarry instead turned out to be far more unpredictable than we ever thought."

"Haaaa?" The young woman summarized her thoughts rather well with a more than exaggerated noise.

"Precisely," Stilton nodded rather glumly. "Do that for another two hours and you might be where I am right about now."

"He actually gave you slip?"

"Not exactly," the Captain growled. "He stood his ground and toyed around with us first. He even beat me with the sword."

"What?!" Cassandra nearly shrieked before she rushed to check her father's limbs for wounds. "Where did he hit you? Don't you need to go the infirmary? Tell me you've at least bandaged the wounds! Hold on, where are the wounds? Why aren't there any cuts or—"

"Slow down! You can relax, Cassandra," the man put a hand on her shoulder. "Shocking as it may be, he didn't bother trying to bleed me."

Then young woman blinked. After realizing that there were indeed no injuries, she took a step back and shook her head as she tried to get on a handle on what had happened. "Y-you're telling me… that lowlife thief… actually defeated you?"

"While I'd rather you didn't put it in such terms," Captain Stilton sighed. "Yes. We were defeated."

Cassandra's hand flew to cover her mouth, eyes wide with shock. Rider had beaten the Royal Guard and even her father? How could that be? This wasn't how it went! It was inconceivable!

As the other servants tended to a fuming yet ashamed Maximus and the other horses, Cassandra numbly followed the Captain and his men into the barracks.

"Alright men!" Stilton addressed over his shoulder as he began removing both his sword and his helmet. "Today was an embarrassment. We ventured out to apprehend a dangerous fugitive, but we returned in disgrace with our tails between our legs, bearing only bruises and the shame of defeat for all our efforts. While I cannot deny that our foe was clearly of an entirely different league, that does not excuse the fact that we failed to anticipate the danger he posed. Thus, we have also failed His Majesty. And it most certainly does not excuse how we… comported ourselves at the end of our scuffle, and as a result we have quite literally tarnished our uniforms."

The men had the sense to look abashed regarding their actions.

"We will discuss everything in extensive detail tomorrow after I have made my report to the king. For now, those of you with head injuries will report to the infirmary. The rest of you, get to cleaning your weapons and armor immediately! Not only will you scrub and polish until you can see your own reflection, but you will also wash the uniforms yourselves instead of leaving them for the maids!" The Captain pursed his lips. "I will start with mine."

"Yessir," was the unanimous response.

The men dispersed to their respective tasks in a well-organized scramble. Some left to get treatment for their heavy bruises and the growing eggs on their heads while the rest formed a fire-line and got to work on cleaning their helmets, armor, gloves, boots and the rest of their uniforms. Three men grabbed a set of buckets and went outside for some water. Two others carried everyone's weapons to the center table to be laid out. The rest retrieved rags, brushes, and soap before then wordlessly distributing them amongst their numbers. Ant colonies were less structured. Within minutes, the cleaning was well underway.

Cassandra slowly navigated between everyone to her father's side as he was looking into a small mirror while wiping bits of squash and whipped cream off his face.

"Alright, come on Dad," she pressed. "What happened out there? What did Rider do and why does everyone look like the entire food pyramid threw up on them?"

The hand running a brush over Stilton's face went stiff. It slowly clenched into a trembling fist. His reddening face stared back intensely from the mirror, veins throbbing on his forehead. Then the Captain exhaled slowly and very deliberately, unclenching his fist as he calmed down and resumed wiping the rest of his face.

"It was a disaster," the Captain said. "I thought he was another common thief full of phony arrogance, just like every other criminal we've put away that thought they were untouchable. That Flynn Rider's outlandish reputation was merely hearsay from gullible peasants and lazy guards trying to cover for their own incompetence. I used to think that a piece of scum who steals because they're too lazy for honest work could actually do even half the things they say about Rider."

"What changed?"

"I met him."

"Fa—Captain," Cassandra corrected, knowing how he felt about being addressed in front of his men. "Forgive me, but how is this possible? You're the best swordsman in the entire kingdom and you had him outnumbered fourteen to one! One man on his own wouldn't be able to keep up with your skills and fend everyone else off at the same time, that isn't how it works! It isn't!"

"Did anyone tell Rider that?" One of the guards spoke up while scrubbing his boot. "Tony, Mario? You saw the way Rider moved, didn't you? Like the wind! Once he had that sword, there was no stopping him."

"Yeah, we didn't even land a scratch on the man. Nothing we did ever surprised him!"

"Did you see how he took everyone down with just a few moves? Like it was the simplest thing?"

"It felt like my first day at training! Like he knew all the moves out there and I didn't know squat!"

The men continued to share their bewildered yet awed remarks on Rider. Cassandra looked back to her father in askance.

"Cut the chatter," the Captain ordered, and everyone promptly shut up. "But yes, Cassandra. After today, I can say that Flynn Rider is undoubtedly more skilled and experienced than anyone I've ever seen. Blasted smart too. He had control of the fight from start to finish, manipulating the rhythm in his favor every step of the way. It was humiliating!"

Captain Stilton furiously cursed himself as he wiped the dessert off his armor. He had spent too long fighting in practice drills with rules and structures and codes of etiquette and conduct. This hadn't been that sort of fight; it was the sort of fight where anything went to win, and he should have been prepared for that and what it might mean. "I can see why the other kingdoms are so determined to catch him. He's a serious danger that must be stopped and put down."

For the next twenty minutes, the Captain recounted all the details of their brush with Rider to a wide-eyed Cassandra. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Such skill, speed and cunning unlike anyone they had encountered, all from an unscrupulous lawless marauder? It was unbelievable, but the evidence was right before her eyes. Yet as Cassandra's mind raced to assess everything she could glean about Rider's capabilities, something tickled in the back of her mind.

Facing off alone against the kingdom's best swordmaster and superior numbers? Skilled and confident enough to treat it like an easy game? Seemingly aware of everyone's numbers and movements? Manipulating your opponents and the flow of battle? Systematically taking them down one by one with great ease, all like it was one big performance to them? All without a scratch? But why did such methods seem so oddly familiaaaaaaar… no.

No, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be. That was impossible!

"Are you telling me that Flynn Rider can fight like the Woman of Steel?!" Cassandra sputtered in disbelief. How could this be? How could anyone, let alone some criminal scum, actually compare to the winner of the Tournament of Champions? Her very idol?

The Tournament of Champions was the most renowned competition of warriors in the realm. Hosted by the Alliance kingdoms, only the greatest, strongest and most skilled of warriors could ever participate, and the winner would receive vast riches and eternal glory. Less than a year ago, a mysterious young girl had shown up out of nowhere and became the first woman to not only participate but win what many presumed exclusively to be a man's contest. It was like something out of a tall tale. She singlehandedly knocked around sixteen highly trained contestants in a battle royale while simultaneously making them look like fools, displaying astounding strength, speed, and skill with both sword and fist. The entire time she was smiling as if the Tournament was little more than a children's game to her. She then went on to defeat the otherwise undefeated champion of the past two Tournaments and was then offered the exalted station as the personal bodyguard for Seahaven's royal princess on the spot.

Stories spread like a blaze of wildfire in dry grass. This new champion quickly became known as the Woman of Steel, along with many other names since then. And she instantly became Cassandra's hero. No, she was more than that, she was an inspiration! Living proof that a young woman —oh so noble and so strong, fearless and defiant— could truly achieve everything that Cassandra dreamed of.

Captain Stilton only tilted his head in confusion. "Woman of what? Cassandra, what on Earth are… oh. Is this that Laurel Ancalabrand woman you're always obsessing over again?"

"Her name is Lara Anclagon, Dad! And it's not an obsession!"

"You had the blacksmith base your sword design on hers."

"So? It's an effective model."

"You have several dozen newspaper clippings about her strewn up across your room."

"She's an outstanding fighter and I'm trying to see what I can learn from her technique, and that's all it is!"

"Your collection of Anclagon plush toys tells me otherwise." Her father chuckled.

Cassandra's entire posture changed instantly; the image of respectful decorum replaced with frenzied breathing and wild, bulging eyes. "They are not toys! They are cotton-fabric statuettes of Lara with variable impressions and outfits! Vintage and limited edition!"

Stilton raised a knowing eyebrow in response.

Cassandra caught herself and fought down a blush as she cleared her throat. "Eh-hem. A-And I'll have you know I've turned my attention to more serious collector pieces."

"Your father is brimming with pride for your obviously responsible and productive choice of money-spending." Stilton answered with dry amusement. "And yet, you haven't been able to find anymore to purchase in the last five months. Clearly, the exaggerated and short-lived fame of being a gladiator has faded and they moved on to the next one."

"No way," Cassandra shook her head firmly. "No one can top her! And the short supply is just because of all the pirate attacks in Alliance waters, which actually makes them a rare collectible!"

"Cass," her father frowned as he started scrubbing his helmet. "Talent and hard work are all rendered worthless if not devoted to the proper cause. And the only cause that arena fighters care about is to themselves. Nothing else."

The young woman narrowed her eyes. "You do know that she gave all of the tournament's prize money away to an orphanage, right? Five thousand gold pieces. Isn't that as chivalrous an act as they come?"

"She's a gladiator, they're all the same." Stilton scoffed. "An appreciated gesture for an orphanage, surely, but obviously just a publicity stunt. No doubt for her to get in close with the royal family by kissing up to them. King Eric and Queen Ariel must be truly desperate to entrust their daughter's protection to a sell-sword. Just look at the ones that fight in Corona's own tournament, that aggrandizing 'Challenge of the Brave'. Bah! Mercenaries and gladiators are anything but noble with how they put their chauvinist self-interests of profit, hollow glory and their next adrenaline rush over the safety and prosperity of their king and his subjects! They want a meaningful and fulfilling life that they can be proud of? Then get a real job! Or better yet, join the guard!"

Cassandra had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping a sharp retort back at her father, not only for slandering Lara Anclagon's character and achievements but also mocking the very tournament she herself hoped to compete in one day. But she knew from firsthand experience that losing her temper at the Captain, especially in front of his men, would only get her shut down on the spot and her arguments dismissed.

So, with visible effort, she swallowed her pride and pressed on. "The point, father, is that Lara was also cornered and heavily outnumbered in the tournament, and yet she took them all down with the skill and experience of a seasoned warrior. You don't just do that on the fly, it takes serious training and experience. And if Rider was able to do the same with your men…"

Captain Stilton sighed in resignation as he ran a hand over his face. "Alright, I see your point. It's true, Rider is without a doubt one of the most dangerous threats we've ever faced. And he's clearly planning something for the Festival! Well, not on my watch! Someone add 'Potential Flynn Rider Infiltration' to the list!"

"Captain, he's the most wanted thief in all the lands. How is that not on the list?"

"I don't know, I thought it was common sense!"

Personally, Cassandra thought it was well established that her father's men didn't have common sense. "Alright," she smirked, "But how did everyone end up covered in food?"

Stilton swallowed and looked away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Captain," one of the men piped up. "At least Rider will have to wash his clothes out as well!"

Cassandra's eyes went wide as the implication finally sunk in. Then she turned a coy smile on her father. "You got cranky, didn't you?"

The Captain groaned. "I did not get 'cranky'."

"Tony?"

The guard in question smirked back at Cassandra. "He totally got cranky."

"Ha! Knew it!"

Stilton's shoulders slouched at the triumphant look his daughter gave him before he gave a mock glare at Tony. "Traitor."

The guard flashed his Captain an incorrigible grin, to which the other guards sniggered at. If it was anyone but the Captain's daughter they said that to, they would have been busted down to latrine duty for a month.

The chuckles continued until, suddenly, a low growl sounded throughout the barracks. Everyone instantly sprang to their feet on alert and reached for the nearest weapon. Cassandra herself began to reach under the bottom of her dress for the knife she kept in her boot.

For several heartbeats, no one moved. Then the hoarse noise sounded again, more distinctively this time, and all eyes turned towards the Captain's saddle bags. But as the bizarre noise continued to repeat, everyone relaxed as it became clear the disturbance was merely the sound of something's snoring.

"Er, Captain?" Cassandra asked. "I think some critter figured your bag was a good place for a nap."

As if on cue, a loud snort came from the bag. "Sner'waaaah…? Hey, who turn'd off th' moon?"

The slurred speech immediately told everyone that the stowaway was not some curious critter. The tip of the Captain's sword dropped to the floor as an incredulous look spread across his face. "You've got to be kidding me." Sheathing his blade, he reached down into the bag and pulled out—

"Shorty?!"

The three-foot bearded man snorted again and blinked his sleepy eyes before letting out a big yawn. His drunken gaze looked around before settling on Stilton.

"Heh? Oh, hey Cap'n. How-*hic*- how mush is th' choco-chip bunny in th' win...win...window?" Shorty sang out.

"Were you trying to follow me?" Stilton asked befuddled, before he glanced at the saddlebag that was far too small even for one like Shorty. "No, wait, how did you even fit in there?"

"…Hah?" The small man blinked numbly for a moment as the question worked through his addled brain. Then his face brightened and he held up a finger. "Oh, t'at's an e'sy one! All I 'ad to do waassssss…"

Shorty's eyes glazed over and he fell asleep on the spot, giving loud snores that belied his tiny frame.

"Hey! I can have you arrested for sneaking onto palace grounds!"

More snoring.

"…Oh, forget it. I'm not in the mood for this. Someone take him back to the Honeycomb!"

One of the guards, Stan, promptly carried the tiny dozing man out of the palace.

Cassandra wordlessly watched Mario carry the little dwarf out of the barracks. Who was that guy and just how did the Captain ever come to be acquainted with him? Eventually, she just shrugged and tried to press on. She had a much more important matter to broach with her father.

"So then, Flynn Rider is still at large?" she asked lightly and with great excitement. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. Her father had just learned first-hand that standard measures weren't enough to catch Rider. He would need help, someone skilled and trustworthy. If she succeeded where others had failed, or at least receive partial credit for Rider's capture, then surely she would at last be accepted as a full member of the Royal Guard!

"Not for long. I won't allow the Festival to be threatened. I'll be tripling security and sending out all patrols to find the scum. And the palace staff needs to make sure that everything continues as scheduled."

The unspoken, "You're staying at the palace," was clear as the afternoon sunlight.

That didn't stop Cassandra, her heart already fluttering with anticipation. "Meaning that every set of diligent and combat-trained hands will be needed to swiftly resolve this new threat, right?"

Captain Stilton shot that down with the deft speed of a cannoneer. "Not everyone I'm afraid, Cassandra. You are explicitly barred from joining the manhunt."

What?! Why?! What the—what the heck?!

Cassandra stared back at her father in absolute shock, her mouth hanging open in a rather undignified manner. While her father was as stubborn as a Vorhaven boulder and was always slow to give her a chance, he had never outright forbidden her before. "Fath—Captain! W-Why? Why am I not allowed to do my part like any proud servant of the king?"

Stilton sighed and turned away to refasten his armor. "There will be no argument on this Cassandra, my decision is final. Rider has proven how dangerous he is and it's far too risky for you to be anywhere near him."

"Risky?!" Cassandra was now affronted. "Father, you trained me yourself! I've beaten every obstacle course in record time and passed each training regimen that every guardsman must go through with flying colors, even when you try to invent a new one! My scores are higher than anyone you have in service! Danger comes with the life of the Royal Guard, and I have accepted and prepared for that! I wouldn't be 'at risk' more than any of the others!"

"Most others do not have the Captain of the Guard as their father." Stilton firmly reminded her, to which Cassandra only grounded her teeth.

"You always remind me that our duty to king and country must come before our personal interests! And yet you would still sideline me when the call to arms is greater than ever, when you need as many capable people out there as possible?!" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Or perhaps you don't want to admit that if I had accompanied the rest of you to the Honeycomb, things might have turned out differently!"

The Captain stiffened for a split-second, and then angrily rounded on her. "Enough! It's not a question of your skills, Cassandra! It's because having a woman on the patrols would only lead to disaster for Cor—!"

Stilton's fury instantly vanished as he caught his tongue far too late.

A deathly silence descended upon the room like an autumn leaf drifting down to still water. One could even hear a cat's footsteps as the Captain realized that he may have just crossed one line too far. Cassandra's voice died in her throat as her eyes widened in shock. The tension gripped the rest of the guards like a python's grip. They found themselves unable to look away, eyes glancing timidly between the two. It was the only movement they dared to make. In the outside stables, Maximus and the other horses suddenly snapped their heads up in alarm, sensing grave danger, and nervously tried to shuffle away.

A moment passed. Cassandra's grey eyes turned to hot iron. Her chin dipped low as her jaw tightened. And when she finally spoke, her voice was colder than the mountains of Arendelle.

"And why, pray tell, does my being a woman make me ill-suited for the job?"

Stilton swallowed uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head. "That's… of course, that's not what I, uh, well… I just feel that you'd be at great risk should Rider get anywhere close to you…" He started uncertainly.

"Oh, so you think that a girl like me is too weak and fragile to stand up to the rigors of combat?" She asked, her tone becoming heated.

"That's not it! It's just, well, Flynn Rider has proven his reputation as a master at… seducing and beguiling young, impressionable women…"

"So now I don't have mental discipline and commitment because I'm a helpless slave to feminine desires?" She nearly yelled, leaning in close to the man. "Is that it, Father?"

The Captain leaned back and frantically waved his free hand. "No, no! I didn't mean that at all! I just meant that perhaps it'd be best for you to, well, uh, I mean…" His face twisted as he tried to figure a way out of the hole he had dug himself into. Like asking if the hole would be so kind as to swallow him up and hide him away? Maybe if he wished hard enough, he could just make this entire conversation disappear.

Cassandra folded her arms, fuming inside. She could not believe this! More than anything, she wanted to follow in her father's footsteps in the Royal Guard. But there had never been a female member in Corona's history, and so she had faced opposition from the very beginning of those in power. She was told to stick to sweeping floors, sewing dresses and cooking in the kitchens. Even other women scolded and reprimanded her for the arrogance at reaching for things not meant for her station, for not acting as a proper lady.

And so, Cassandra had worked herself to the bone to prove her merits and potential, to show that she could choose her own path in life. She threw herself into the art of weapons, practicing with several dozen different forms of weapons to be ready for any situation. News of Lara Anclagon's victory in the Tournament of Champions bolstered her hopes tenfold. After years of training, she managed to earn the respect of the other guards, proved many naysayers wrong and her father was now the only one in Corona able to defeat her in the ring. Cassandra refused to give up, and she drew closer to her dream every day.

But her greatest obstacle of all was, unbelievably, none other than King Frederic of Corona himself. His Majesty was actually quite open-minded to what women could accomplish, and after the Duke of Weselton's economic stranglehold on the kingdom for over a decade he no longer cared where good talent for the job market came from. But while he seemed to have few qualms over having women in the Royal Guard, King Frederic seemed to take issue with Cassandra personally. For as long as she could remember, every time the king had glanced at her, she could sense the resentment and distrust in his eyes. Even his wife, Queen Arianna, was little different as she actually seemed afraid of her. It baffled Cassandra to no end. She still remembered the day that she overheard her father advocating for her admittance in the Guard once again, but the king stubbornly refused.

"Captain. I will not trust that woman to possess any responsibility in protecting my family until she proves beyond all doubt that she has overcome her heritage."

And for whatever reason, Captain Stilton only gave somber silence in response.

Cassandra still didn't know what it meant. Had her father actually committed some offense against the king in the past? Or maybe it had something to do with her mother whom the Captain absolutely refused to ever talk about? Well, regardless, Cassandra knew she had a difficult road ahead to prove herself worthy. And she knew that aiding in the capture of a legendary outlaw would go a long way to earning the king's trust. And yet, now that such an opportunity had finally arrived, even her father now doubted her loyalty and resolve? Just because she was a woman?

Of all the small-minded, stupid, asinine—!

"CROMWEDGE!"

Feeling a presence next to her all of a sudden, Cassandra turned and jumped back with a small yelp — "Waaagh!"— as soon as she saw the scowling old woman who had most certainly not been standing next to her a few seconds ago.

There in front of everyone was an elderly old woman with gray hair and a permanent scowl etched on her face. She had a surprisingly short and diminutive stature; she didn't even come up to Cassandra's shoulder and was barely taller than most children. She was dressed in a distinctly outdated garb of the castle servants and carried a dusty broom in one hand. She scanned the room with piercing gray eyes, and if it were possible her scowl deepened even further.

"Hrrnnggh… does anyone ever just do quiet and normal things?" She rapped the floor with the handle of her broom. "No, of course not. It's just Crowley that has to clean!"

Cassandra tried to get her breathing under control. She hadn't even heard the grumpy woman approach; it was like she just teleported in silently from nowhere. Cassandra rapidly glanced around at everyone else. Okay, good; she wasn't the only one who had jumped at her unexplained sudden appearance.

"Old Lady Cro—uh, Miss Crowley!" The Captain tentatively spoke up. "What a… pleasant surprise! Er, what are you doing here?"

The woman's entire frame seemed to turn with eerie grace, like a marble statue on a slowly revolving disk. Both Stilton and Cassandra couldn't help but swallow nervously.

One of the guards looked to his partners and spoke in the most timid and hushed voice. "Did you see her come in? Did anyone see her come in?"

Everyone shrugged helplessly.

Miss Crowley was the oldest member of the castle staff, having worked at the palace since King Frederic's grandfather sat on the throne. But despite having been around longer than anyone else, surprisingly little was known about her. She had no family, no hobbies and none had ever seen the woman even sleep. No one seemed to know her true age, where she lived, or even her full name. She seemed to always just come and go from the palace like a ghost, without a word and without notice. The only thing that everyone knew was that Crowley was the only person in Corona that never smiled, even during the kingdom's golden age before the Lost Princess disappeared. The small curmudgeon of a woman was always grumpier than a dwarf of ancient yore; sour, unhappy, cantankerous, disapproving of nearly everything, and just unnervingly creepy to the entire staff. There was no shortage of stories and rumors about 'Old Lady Crowley', though no one dared to speak them in anything but hushed whispers as though they were afraid of what might happen if she heard.

The small woman raised a stony eyebrow at the Captain in implied exasperation. "…What did I just say, Stilton? I heard all the loud racket you lot were making coming back and knew that could only mean another mess I'd have to clean up. And what do I find? A mess that's as clear as the wrinkles on the end of my nose! All this dirt, mud, cake, salad and… do I smell horse manure? Hrrnnggh…" She hummed in disapproval.

The guards recoiled as she fixed them with her unyielding gaze, searching for the culprit. The Captain nonchalantly hid away his offending boot. Eventually, Crowley just shook her head in clear annoyance.

"…How is it that a bunch of bronze knuckle-dragons finally cleaning up after themselves manage to leave even more for me to mop up? Typical. What did you youngsters even get up to this time that your usual mess wasn't enough?"

"Um, we were supposed to go out and capture Flynn Rider. Bring him here, stand trial for his crimes. But he, uh, got the best of us and slipped away."

Crowley was silent for a long moment as she digested the news. Then she turned back to Cassandra and folded her arms. "…Does this mean the celebration feast we were promised is canceled, Cromwedge?"

No one knew why the old woman always called her that, but Cassandra still went pale under Old Lady Crowley's searching gaze. She wrung the hem of her sleeves, trying not to sweat. "Well, y-yes, I'm afraid so—"

"Good. I hate food."

"—but there's always until… huh?" Cassandra's lips were frozen in midsentence as her brain scrambled to figure out what just happened.

"Miss Crowley?" Captain Stilton stepped forward, trying to divert the attention from his daughter. "If it means that much to you, I've ordered my men to clean their weapons and armor themselves. You won't have to concern yourself with washing…"

"Fine, fine! Whatever..." The woman crossed her arms. "Just let me know when you sodhorses are all gone for the day so that I can work in peace!"

Her final word spoken, Old Lady Crowley seemed to silently glide backwards, her wide, floor-length skirt obscuring everything as she maintained a disproving gaze. And just as she slid out through the exit, the door slowly closed entirely on its own, slamming shut with a sound like an ominous thunderclap.

Everyone stared at the doorway for what seemed like an eternity.

"That… that was the wind, right?" Someone asked.

"P-probably. These old buildings do get drafty... I think."

"And we're right next to the warm sea, there's always strong winds coming in…"

"Uh, yeah! That's it, that must be it! No question about!"

"And on a completely unrelated matter, I'm going to find somewhere else to clean!"

"Good idea, I'll join you!"

"Wait for me!"

The guards vacated the barracks in less than ten seconds.

"Um… yes, I'll just… go ahead and add that to the list of things none of us were expecting today," Stilton said to no one in particular. "It's growing by the minute. So then, I need to go take care of the…"

The Captain awkwardly departed as well, leaving a very confused Cassandra standing alone to question reality for the rest of the day.

Sorry, not my usual chapter length. Things have obviously been crazy for everyone these last few months, and so I thought it would be better to do a short interlude showing the reaction to the antics of a certain thief. In the meantime, as of a few days ago, we have finally developed an official vaccine for COVID! It's been proven to have incredible efficacy, and we already have over fifty million doses ready! And projections indicate that we will have close to a billion by spring! JOY TO THE WORLD!

Anyway, Flynn Rider is in town! And in less than a day, the Captain is defeated, the Royal Guard gets covered in baked goods, Shorty somehow appears in the Captain's bag and Crowley seems to get creepier every year. When Flynn Rider is involved, common sense takes a rain check for the day. What was happening to Corona?

Fun fact: Hortense Q. Crowley, also known as 'Old Lady Crowley', is voiced by Pat Carroll, who is best known voicing Ursula in The Little Mermaid.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Disney franchise, nor the Tangled films nor the TV series. Everything original you will see, such as OCs, are mine.