A.N. — I know I'd marked this as complete, but the new season 3 intro shown after the official airing of True Colors got me rethinking this story. Of course, Disney wouldn't let Marcy really die, but I can pour on the angst here in this fanwork (of which I own nothing and don't profit monetarily off of, incidentally...). So here is a Sasha chapter, to be followed by an Anne chapter to conclude things.
2. Sasha
Sasha regained consciousness in a pile of rubble. Disoriented, ears ringing and vision blurred, she took stock of her surroundings. Laying prone, the first thing Sasha saw was an indent in the stone wall above her, distressingly human-shaped. That would explain the stone detritus she was laying strewn amongst. Gingerly sitting up, Sasha craned her aching head around.
The glowing portal was conspicuous in its absence, as were Anne and the Plantars. The thought of them escaping to safety lightened the load on her heart, but it also tore at Sasha's psyche. She'd missed her chance to return back home, to her plane of existence. It was an eventuality she'd always kept in mind since Grime and the toad army had concocted their invasion plan. But facing it in reality was not assuring in the least.
It was clear they'd lost. Anne and company had fled for their lives, and those left behind were going to suffer the consequences. Pulse quickening, Sasha saw Marcy's crumpled form near the window where the music box had formed the portal. She was unnaturally still, and in the dim lighting in the room, Sasha couldn't be sure if the puddles under Marcy were water or something more gruesome. King Andrias was looking at her like a misbehaving pet, a possessive glint in his huge eyes. Even in victory, the tyrant was plotting.
Sasha needed the reassurance of Grime right now, because things looked bleak and having the him there would make at least one thing in this fucked-up reality right. She might have an alpha bitch personality, but this near-death experience was pushing it to the breaking point. Gone for the moment was the lieutenant, replaced with the teen she was. As her seeking gaze still did not find its target, Sasha panicked. Her swords lay within reach, fallen when she had. Picking up the beautiful, cold steel gave her some semblance of sanity back.
Suddenly, a clawed hand grabbed the back of her collar and yanked hard. Sasha yelped before another hand, large and smelling awful, closed over her mouth. Tucked behind a stone pillar, Sasha worried the battle was not yet over for her, that she'd survived one brush with death only to perish in an even more grisly way. Ire rising, she turned to her captor, only to find herself sprawled across the lap of a familiar form.
Grime looked every bit as rough as she felt, bruises and scrapes liberally decorating his already-scarred skin. He made the universal 'shh!' motion to her and gestured to the center of the room. Sasha peered around Grime's bulk and saw Andrias bent down, plucking Marcy off the floor. He was being surprisingly careful not to crush her (unlike Sprig) in his giant fingers. The King turned away from them and strode out of the room with purpose. Well, if he was going to dismiss whatever threat might still lay behind him, Sasha sure wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
A shrill whistle broke the stillness Andrias had left in his wake. Sasha sharply pivoted back to glare at Grime. He just shrugged off her irritation and pointed. Joe Sparrow had alighted on the closest windowsill and perched there with an inquiring look. Still woozy, it took Sasha a few seconds to connect the dots. When she did, she felt her hackles raise all over again. Her Captain intended them to retreat in defeat and disgrace! Her pride could not stand that blow, but the more analytical side of her saw the wisdom in a tactical regrouping. They had a whole toad army still, stuck outside Newtopia's gates and itching for a fight. With the return of their top two in command, they could begin to plot a rebellion against the King.
Begrudgingly, Sasha hopped up into the saddle on the back of the oversized bird. Grime had preceded her and already had the reins clutched in his gnarled hands. The grimace crossing his face was just as twisted. It was clear to Sasha that Grime, too, was not the happiest with their current situation. Sasha, exhausted, slumped up against his back and clung on tight as Grime guided the bird into the air. She'd unpack her mental baggage later, perhaps after a hot bath to scrub her woes away. For, now, she'd bank on things getting better in the future. They'd hit rock bottom today, and there was nowhere to go but up from there.