Sophia's Story
A Disney crossover by talking2myself
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any recognizable Disney characters. All original characters are my own creations.
CHAPTER 11. France
"Aha!" Rosamund declared suddenly, halting in her tracks and raising her index finger officially, she stopped so suddenly Sophia walked into her back and was knocked flat onto her back.
"What?!" Sophia cried looking around wildly expecting something to jump out from the darkness of the foliage and try to eat her.
"We have arrived in France," Rosamund said decisively.
Sophia looked around. The forest seemed more or less the same as it had been for the past several days. "We are?" Sophia asked as she got to her feet.
"Yup," Rosamund said. "Granted we're still in the dark forest, but we've entered France. Soon we'll be out of the forest."
Sophia raised an eyebrow, "How can you tell?"
"Feel that?" Rosamund asked. Sophia didn't know what she was talking about at first, but then she felt cool wind whip past her, rustling her skirts.
"Wind?" Sophia asked.
Rosamund frowned and looked at her. "Have you ever been outside of Andalasia, Shona?"
Sophia let out a heavy sigh and slumped her shoulders, but didn't bother correcting her mentor. It hadn't done any good so far. "No, I haven't. Why?"
"You better take this then," Rosamund said. She shucked off her cloak and tossed it to Sophia. Sophia let out a yelp of surprise but managed to catch the cloak.
"Why?"
"Because Andalasia is so full of magic and rainbows it really only has one season, summer" Rosamund said. "You've never experienced winter before. Don't want you freezing to death."
"Oh," Sophia said, wrapping the cloak tightly around her shoulders. "What about you?"
"Magic dear," Rosamund said. "Mine is a bit more proficient than yours."
"Hmmph," Sophia muttered as she struggled to keep up with Rosamund. "How much further to your new godchild's palace?"
"Not far," Rosamund said. "But we're not going there right away?"
"We're not?" Sophia asked.
"It's almost nightfall," Rosamund said. "Apart from the possibility of freezing to death, there are also less magical things to be afraid of… like wolves."
"Swell," Sophia murmured anxiously.
"We'll spend the night in a tavern before heading to the palace in the morning," Rosamund said. "Does that suit you?"
"Do I have a choice?" Sophia murmured.
"Nope," Rosamund said with a smirk. "Good."
-888-
As annoyed as she was with Rosamund, Sophia could have kissed the enchantress a few hours later when the wind truly picked up and snowflakes clung to her copper curls. Sophia was wrapped up in the cloak, clinging to the fabric for dear life while her teeth chattered wildly. Rosamund didn't seem fazed at all, strolling through the snow without any sign of being cold.
"Not much further, Shayla," Rosamund said as they approached the outskirts of a small village.
"Thank g-g-g-goodness," Sophia grumbled. Her initial thoughts on winter were not positive. She followed Rosamund around a fountain in the town's center before making their way into a large frame building.
At first, all Sophia was aware of was the rush of warmth flooding over her body. She let out a heavy sigh of relief as feeling returned to her frozen limbs. Then, she looked up and let out a small cry of alarm.
"What is it?" Rosamund asked, whirling around in surprise. She followed Sophia's gaze to the walls of the tavern. The whole place was filled with hunters' trophies. Antlers and bear pelts hung from every wall and ceiling. Sophia's eyes were wide as though they were ready to pop out of her head. "Oh right," Rosamund groaned. "I forgot you were from Andalasia, land of the talking animals."
"They're everywhere," Sophia whispered.
"They weren't talking animals," Rosamund pointed out weakly.
"And that makes it okay?!" Sophia cried.
"Oh for pity's sake, come along," Rosamund grumbled, grabbing Sophia's arm and pulling her along.
"They're all looking at me," Sophia whispered in alarm.
"Honey," Rosamund sighed in her usual condescending tone. "We're either sleeping in here or in the snowbank outside. Take your pick."
"Fine," Sophia muttered, trying hard not to look at the walls. She allowed Rosamund to lead her to a table and park her at a table. Sophia didn't pay much attention to anything else until a bowl of soup was placed in front of her.
"I guess one of the hunters is something of a local hero," Rosamund said. "Cocky fellow. He's clearly single. No woman would allow this many antlers in the décor." Rosamund rambled casually. She looked up at Sophia and sighed. "Are you gonna eat that soup or keep trying to scry your sister in it?" Sophia looked up guiltily. She actually had been attempting to do just that. Rosamund sighed and folded her hands on the table. "So tell me about yourself, honey," she said.
Sophia looked up in surprise. "You didn't want to know much about me this whole time."
"Yeah, well you weren't interesting to me then," Rosamund said dismissively. "You are now."
Sophia shrugged and stirred her soup with her spoon. "There's not much to tell. I was born in Andalasia so was my sister Giselle. We lost our parents in a troll attack shortly after she was born. Our granny raised us after that. She passed away a couple of years ago. We've been supporting ourselves with a dress business. She does the sewing. I handle the money. That is until ANOTHER troll wiped out our house and she ran off with an airhead prince and then disappeared…"
Rosamund stared at her blankly and blinked. "Well… no wonder you're perpetually scrying every puddle."
"Yeah," Sophia said sadly.
"It's curious…." Rosamund mused. "You're sure your sister didn't have some sort of secret godparent?"
"She didn't," Sophia said. "We were alone in the middle of nowhere. I would have noticed."
"Hmm," Rosamund said thoughtfully. "It's odd that she didn't…"
"What do you mean?" Sophia asked.
"Well," Rosamund said. "Truth be told, godparenting is pretty much a royal game. We typically only get assigned to princesses or princes or commoners who are about to be married to one."
"What?" Sophia cried.
"Now don't go thinking it's because they're more deserving," Rosamund insisted. "My last charge is certainly proof that they're not. However, royals are more capable of screwing things up on a grander scale. The average person certainly has troubles but they're able to work through them without any major impacts. A royal does something stupid and the whole country could wind up in danger."
"What does this have to do with me and Giselle?" Sophia asked.
"You said your sister was running away with a prince?" Rosamund asked.
"Yes," Sophia nodded.
"And he's an idiot?" Rosamund asked.
"Definitely," Sophia sighed.
"Hmm," Rosamund pursed her lips. "She sounds like the perfect candidate for a godparent. She married a dimwit and the country will need a capable leader."
"She's engaged to a dimwit," Sophia corrected. "She didn't get a chance to marry him before she disappeared. And to be honest, my sister isn't the greatest political mind either."
"All the more reason for a godmother," Rosamund pointed out. "Someone needs to keep the boat floating. Although if they haven't been married…" Rosamund trailed off.
Sophia looked up at her sharply. "If they haven't been married…"
Rosamund sighed, "Honey, don't look at me like that, but if she doesn't have a godparent it's possible that she's never going to marry a royal."
Sophia set her jaw stubbornly. "Maybe she never got a godmother because I'm meant to be her fairy godmother?"
"Well," Rosamund said idly stirring her own soup bowl. "It would be highly irregular, but I suppose stranger things have happened." The two of them finished their meal together in silence before the innkeeper led them to their room. "We're heading out at first light," Rosamund declared. "I suppose, I can't put off meeting my new charge any longer. Get some rest." Rosamund settled into bed and seconds later, Sophia could hear her snoring softly. Sophia was exhausted and had never been so grateful for the warm quilt that she had cocooned around herself, but sleep did not come to her. Rosamund's words, the fact that she couldn't seem to scry her sister, all of this was beginning to make her worry. She was beginning to feel a sense of dread creep in. What if Giselle was truly dead?
Sophia stubbornly pushed aside that thought, refusing to entertain it. As long as she breath, she would never stop looking for Giselle. With that silent vow, Sophia closed he eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.