A/N: So.. This is turning into a pretty romantic story, what with the Bluejay/Corey thing and the Mya/Fleetfoot beginnings. Yeah. That's right. I pulled a fast one you with the Corey being 19 and Bluejay lusting after her like crazy 'cause he's a perverted and conceited idiot. He's like ten years older than her.. But you know.. He's not exactly a virgin if you know what I mean. Far from it. He's a player. And he's drop dead sexy. Just FYI. Fleetfoot's just cute in that messy boy kind of way. Not like Bluejay who is like a god or something. Now I'm just babbling. So I'll stop.

"Girls are supposed to carry hairpins. You should know these things."

"And what exact purpose would that serve us.. Hmm?"

"We could open the door. And I wouldn't have to over-exert myself."

"We have the keys, you imbecile."

"The door won't open! It's obviously rusted shut!"

"Then why don't you break through it with your superhuman strength?"

"HELLO! I'm not strong without one whole arm. Plus.. I've got bandages all the way up my back!"

"You're going to hurt yourself jiggling it like that. Turn it right."

"Stop instructing me! It's distracting."

"Move, you numb-nut."

There was a click as Mya opened the second door, easily. She turned it right and pushed. Fleetfoot stuck out his tongue at her back and she stepped gracefully through. "You're such a thickhead."

He angrily stomped after, muttering something incoherent about insults and nobility. She ignored him and kept walking, quietly and cautiously now as they were in an open hall.

"Telling me off like she's some queen or something Tchuh! I'll show her! And--"

"Shut your mouth or we'll be heard, you oaf."

"Just what makes you so superior that you should insult me?! I don't appreciate it."

"And I don't appreciate your inferior intelligence but I keep that to myself."

"No you don't! You just called me an oaf."

"I wasn't lying.."

Fleetfoot made a derisive noise at her back but she ignored it carefully, crouching along the hallway. He sneezed. She made an angry face. He stuck out his tongue. They continued on their way. They came to a point where the hall split off. He looked at her expectantly. Thinking for a moment she pointed left. "He'll be in the cells beneath the wine cellar. Let's go."

"Will there be a guard?"

"Why bother? You can't get in or out of the doors like you might in our room. Bluejay couldn't do anything about."

Fleetfoot started to doubt ever getting out of this silver hell. They descend the steps at the end of the hall. The air became mustier and mustier as the steps stopped and they were walking a hallways lined with cages and prisons. At the end there was a single door. Mya reached out and pulled it open but the cell inside the dark room was swung open and no one was there.

"Holy Crap." Fleetfoot muttered. "He got out.."

"He had help," Mya said, nodding and kicking a dress out from underneath the bench. "A maid. But why did she take off her clothes?"

He shrugged and glanced around. Something about his surroundings were so familiar. He sniffed the air. "Lavender."

She looked at him. "What?"

"It smells like lavender in here… Corky smells like lavender!"

Mya frowned. "Who the heck is Corky?"

"My friend. She must have been here."

She looked around curiously. "How will they get around the castle without knowing the way."

He snorted and scoffed. "Bluejay knows his way around here better than you do. They'll be going to find me! Let's go back."

"No, you idiot! That's a waste of time. They'll know we escaped on our own. Either we get out and retrieve the Prince with the news of his capture or we go to the throne room and get ourselves killed."

"We can't get past the guards."

"What did you expect to do after we'd met up with Bluejay, then? He's not a magician!"

Fleetfoot observed his feet. Then he grinned. "I've got an idea."

A/N: Sorry terribly for the never-ending wait. I will not give some pathetic I-had-a-writers-block excuse. The truth is i'm lazy. and that is that.