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 13. The Enchantment
Slowly, Sophia began to come to, but she refused to open her eyes, terrified of what she would see. It did little to ease her worries. The sounds around her were equally alarming. The loudest thing she could hear was the sound of animalistic roars and snarling followed by a loud crash. Then, there was an eerie silence for a few moments before a softer cacophony of panic surrounded her. Children were crying and calling for their mother, a woman screamed, a louder voice rose above the others demanding calm.
Finally, Sophia decided that reality couldn't be worse than what she was imagining. She opened her eyes and looked down at her body. She let out a sharp yelp of alarm at the sight. She has no legs or arms anymore, or at least none that she could see. Her legs had been transformed into a straw broom resembling the appearance of a skirt. Her torso was a long, slim handle and she was completely armless now. She couldn't see her face, but her hair which had been piled into a bun resembled the top of a broom handle.
Sophia shrieked in panic. At first, she thought she heard an echo of her own scream only to realize it was just another woman reacting similar. What appeared to be a feather duster with feminine features raced by her, making a sweeping gesture as she moved. Sophia drew a deep breath and struggled to remain calm and take inventory of her new form. She could scream. She clearly still had vocal chords so she was able to speak. She could also see and hear even then though a broom shouldn't be able to do such things. The most distressing thing was that she had no arms or hands. It would be impossible for her to grip things, however, she seemed to have some sort of balance beyond what a broom should have. She was still upright despite the fact that she had been out cold moments before. Plus, Sophia was beginning to feel a familiar albeit different sensation. It reminded her of the itching feeling that she had experienced shortly after receiving her powers, but slightly different. This felt more like a stinging sensation. She could only imagine that it was Rosamund's magic fighting against her own.
Rosamund! Taking another steadying breath, Sophia attempted to move. Just like the feather duster she had seen, she seemed to sweep across the floor as she moved. Sophia scanned the crowds for any sign of her teacher, but Rosamund was gone. Sophia's panic was replaced with a sudden rage. How could she do this? She didn't even seem to notice that she had cursed her student along with her new godchild. Was she simply going to leave them both? How would that help either of them.
Sophia looked around at the scene surrounding her. Sophia wasn't the only innocent swept up in the chaos of the spell. Tea cups raced about wailing for their mommy, a maternal looking teapot who was trying to comfort them. They must have been children. A candelabra was waving his arms crying out something in French. If he wasn't careful he was going to accidentally set the drapes on fire.
She also noticed something else. The prince was not here. It appeared that he had thrown his chair halfway across the room where it lay in pieces beneath a portrait of the prince. Sophia winced. The portrait had been clawed across the face and the canvas was nearly in shreds. Sophia was able to follow the trail of destruction and realized that the prince must have retreated from the room through a doorway at the opposite end of the room. The door had been flung off his hinges. Between the clawmarks and the sheer amount of strength it would have taken to throw it like that, Sophia felt sick to her stomach. A monster like that could snap a broom like her over his knee like a twig.
"I SAID EVERYONE BE QUIET!"
A stuffy voice rose over the din of the crowd. Sophia's attention fell on the source of the voice as the crowds hushed around her. It appeared to a walking table clock with a very serious expression on his face.
"Right. Now then," he said properly. "Has everyone been accounted for?"
"Oh yes indeed, we are all here," the teapot said.
"Yes," the candlestick agreed peering at Sophia, "But I do not recognize this one. Who are you?"
All eyes moved towards Sophia. "Quite right," the clock said. "Who are you?"
Sophia swallowed hard. "My name is Sophia," she said. "I… I was hoping to get a job." Sophia had a feeling that admitting her connection to Rosamund would not win her any friends.
"Oh dearie," the teapot shook her head sadly. "what dreadful timing you have."
"You don't know the half of it," Sophia muttered to herself.
"I AM A FEATHER DUSTER!" the feather duster shrieked in alarm before bursting into tears.
"Now now mon ami," the candelabra crooned as he hopped to her side. "It was be alright," he attempted to pat her where her shoulders would have been in a comforting gesture. The action nearly set her on fire. She shrieked again and raced away from him causing another round of crying and screaming to erupt.
"QUIET!" the clock roared again. After a few moments, the crowd silenced again. "Now, we are clearly in a precarious situation, but we must remain calm if we are to find a way back. First things first, does anyone appear to be hurt apart from our new… eh… forms?"
Everyone glanced around and shook their heads. "Very good," the clock said. "Well, then I guess the next thing would be to… be to…" he trailed off, unsure of what to do next.
"We must find a way to undo this curse," the candelabra announced, hopping up alongside the clock.
"Yes!" the clock agreed. "Quite! We must do that!" He turned towards the candelabra, "How do we do that?" he asked sheepishly. The candelabra shrugged.
"The enchantress said that the master would need to find someone who was willing to love him as he is," the teapot pointed out.
"As he is?" a small teacup piped. "With all his teeth and hair? Who would love that?!"
"Now Chip, hush," the teapot scolded.
"He has a point," The feather duster pouted. "How on earth is he going to get someone to love him like that?"
"Perhaps there is another way to break the spell?" the candelabra said thoughtfully.
"Indeed," the clock declared. "Everyone! To the library, there's bound to be something in there that will provide some answers."
"Shouldn't someone ought to check on the master?" the teapot asked. A new silence filled the room. No one volunteered.
"Come come now," the clock insisted. "Someone should see if he is alright. Someone who is confident and brave."
"Cogsworth, you magnificent man," the candelabra cried. "er… clock. How kind of you to offer."
"What?!" the clock, Cogsworth apparently, cried. "I wasn't… I didn't… I couldn't…"
"That's very noble of you, Cogsworth," the teapot said. "But you really shouldn't go alone. I'm coming with you."
"Me too," the candelabra declared.
"Oh… very well," Cogsworth said in defeat. He slowly made his way towards the hallway before turning and facing her. "You, Sophia was it?"
"Yes," Sophia said.
"You want a job?" he asked. "Follow me." He gestured at the debris littering the halls. "We'll have plenty of cleaning to do after this."
Sophia trailed behind the little trio, sweeping up piles of broken and splinters that had been flung about as the prince stormed through the castle. "I imagine he's gone to his room in the west wing," the candelabra said.
"Well, we'll simply have to follow the trail and see where it goes," Cogsworth said.
"I do hope the poor boy is alright," the teapot sighed.
"Poor boy?" Cogsworth sputtered. "You heard the enchantress. It's his fault that we're in this terrible mess to begin with."
"I wouldn't point that out to him," the teapot advised.
Cogsworth blanched, "No, I suppose not." He admitted. Sophia gulped but followed the others to a tall set of doors at the end of a long hallway.
Cogsworth cautiously approached the doors and gingerly tapped on the doors so faintly Sophia couldn't hear a sound. "Well, we tried," Cogsworth shrugged and made his way back towards the hall.
"Your highness are you alright?" the teapot asked. There was no response. The candelabra and teapot exchanged nervous glances and the candelabra anxiously pushed the door open. The little trio cautiously made their way into the dark room which had been completely torn apart. Books, furniture and portraits lay in heaps as though a cyclone had torn through the chamber. In fact, only one piece of furniture seemed intact. A table near the back of the room held a mysterious glimmering rose.
Sophia's eyes locked onto the flower. A rose. Nice touch, Rosamund," she thought icily as she glared at the flower. It was the same flower that she had offered him earlier, a nice little reminder of his selfish behavior. Sophia couldn't help but be amazed at her mentor's cruelty.
"Master?" the candelabra piped as he hopped further into the room. Suddenly, a massive shape stirred from some corner of the room.
"GET OUT!" a voice roared. Sophia was terrified at the sound, but she could have sworn that the voice sounded like a sob.
"Please your majesty…" Cogsworth begged.
"I SAID GET OUT!" The prince bellowed with a mighty roar. The four of them retreated frantically. Sophia scuffled out of the room as fast as her strange new form would allow her. Before they tore out of the room, Sophia could have sworn that she caught a glimpse of something shiny in the prince's claw. A mirror perhaps? She didn't have the time to confirm as they raced out of the chamber and the doors closed with a resounding slam behind them.
"Well, that went well," Cogsworth muttered.
"I'm afraid we won't get any help there," the teapot agreed sadly.
"Let's join the others in the library," the candelabra suggested. "Maybe they've found something?"
The teapot nodded and they slowly made their way back down the hallway. Sophia could have sworn that she heard crying coming from the West Wing. Sophia drew a deep breath, struggling to keep herself calm. Rosamund would realize her mistake. She would come back for her apprentice. Sophia could practically hear her drawl "Honey, how did you let this happen?" As she followed the others, Sophia kept repeating the mantra. Rosamund will come back. Rosamund will come back. Rosamund will come back.
Unfortunately, in her heart Sophia was not convinced. Rosamund was gone.