{the kindness of strangers}

At dawn Aqua was already up, doing her chores with a rekindled spirit. She knew she'd already told her stepmother she was not going, but it was not the first time she had lied to the woman, and it certainly would not be the last. Aqua was capable of getting to the ball by herself, and she had a dress that had once been her mother's folded in a trunk somewhere in her room.

Aqua's room doubled as a storage area for the entire household, so it was a bit cramped, and disorganized. She had tried on numerous occasions to clean it, but she had no avail. There was simply too much stuff.

Aqua set down a breakfast tray in front of Jihl's door, the last of them, and she knocked carefully. "Stepmother, I'm going into town to get fresh flowers!" she called, stepping away from the door and bolting down the hallway before the woman could reply.

She was already dressed in her boy clothes; a pair of baggy, dirt smeared pants, an equally baggy, once-white shirt, and a worn leather hunting vest. These were all clothes she'd stolen from her father's wardrobe before he had passed away, thinking she would grow into them. She needed two belts to keep the pants up, and the shirt had tumbled below her knees once. Now it was more near her upper thighs. The vest fit pretty well, though.

She shoved her hair up into her hat and leaped outside, slamming to door behind her. She hoped the racket would wake the sleeping crones. As she ran down the paved way, and pushed open the wrought iron gate, she found herself rather exhilarated. She shoved her hands in her pockets and grinned, tipping her hat to a busker on a corner. He glanced at her over his fiddle, and he winked. Aqua paused and wondered if he saw through her disguise, that he could possibly know her true gender. But Aqua thought that impossible.

She couldn't be too sure though.

"You're very good," she commented in a deeper, thicker voice layered with an accent that was an oddly flawed variation of her own. She tossed a coin into the hat at the boy's feet, which was ugly, and small, and moth bitten. It looked like it had seen five wars, with patches and holes and dirt and blood to tell its tales for it.

"Ya think so?" The boy looked startled for a moment, staring at the coin she'd dropped into his hat with a strange sort of awe. "I don't play it often. Just when I'm not feeling great."

Aqua paused again, glancing down at the boy with a new sense of curiousness. He was younger than her, by a year or two perhaps, with a cute elfish face, and a toothy smile to go with it. He looked normal enough, his hair the color of honey, a natural unruly mop that framed his face. Aqua would not have been taken aback if it wasn't for his eyes.

They were blue, like hers, but more like the color of the summer sky and less like the vast expanse of ocean. That wasn't what shocked her. The thing that startled her was how old he looked when staring into his eyes, as if he'd grown decades, happy in a weary, almost dead way. He watched her without noticing her shock.

"Thank you," he said slowly, bending down to pick up the hat with the coin, which would be just enough to get him some breakfast. Aqua didn't plan on getting many flowers anyway, so she was fine with sparing the money. "I didn't expect to get anything, honestly."

"Why?" Aqua's eyebrows raised as the boy slung the fiddle over his shoulder on a weedy strap, and she noticed it looked like no fiddle she'd ever seen before. It was dark, a deep mahogany maybe, with swirling golden grooves winding along the neck and base. It looked handmade, but very delicate, like a glass toy.

"I ain't popular around here." He shrugged and laughed. "Don't blame them. I'm a trouble maker wherever I go!"

"Are you?" Aqua tilted her head and smiled a little. "Can't even tell. You look too sweet."

The boy grinned broadly, almost wickedly, and he nodded. "Yeah, that's my secret weapon! Cuteness just melts some people's hearts, and the people whose hearts are made of stone… they've got flesh made of butter built up around it."

Aqua stared at him for a moment, too surprised to shudder. Her shock faded, and she found herself laughing. The boy seemed startled at this. "Aye!" Aqua snickered. "Men are made soft."

The boy eyed her. "Aye," he agreed, tapping his bow against his thigh. "I think women are made tougher, to be honest."

Aqua almost missed this lovely jewel of a comment due to her staring at the bow with an awe, and she looked at his face, her own splitting in a grin. "Can't argue with ya there," she said. "Sorry, I don't mean to change the subject so abruptly, but may I see your bow?"

The boy blinked fast for a moment before glancing down at the said bow, and for a long moment he seemed to be at mental battle with himself. Finally he yielded, and handed the thing to her without comment. Aqua took it eagerly, her fingers brushing over the flaxen fibers, and then along the rod itself, which was thicker than most. She ran her fingers all the way up until she reached a pummel at the end, a very small pummel for a very small sword, and with a twist and a jerk, she unsheathed it.

It glinted in the sun, as fat as her index finger and as light as feather. She stared at it in awe for a moment, wondering if she could bear to wield such a lightweight, delicate thing, and she quickly sheathed it again.

"A trouble maker you are," Aqua said quietly, handing the bow back to the boy. There were few people on the street, as it was still much too early for the market to be open, but those who were opening their shops around that corner were looking at them strangely from windows.

"Well," the boy said loftily, "admit it. It's pretty cool."

"I have to agree." Aqua was a bit breathless, wondering about this sword, how it had come to be forged, and about the odd looking fiddle, and how damn strange this boy was over all. "I never would have thought you could have a sword in a bow."

"It shoots arrows too," the boy quipped. Aqua gaped at him, and she looked down at the bow, her mind trying to make work of this. "Kidding," he laughed after a beat. "I can't imagine the sound it would make if that were true."

Aqua stared at him incredulously for a short time, before she began to laugh as well. "I can imagine it," Aqua said, sniffing. "It sounds like awesome."

"Yes!" the boy cried, punching the air. "Exactly, the sound of pure amazing screeching from my violin."

Aqua continued to laugh, feeling lighter than she had in years. "What's your name?" she asked finally, once she'd settled down.

The boy looked as if he had not expected this question. "Oh," he said. "Ventus. Ven, for short."

"Ven." Her voice softened as she spoke his name, and she bit her tongue. She'd sounded like a girl just then. "Do ya know how to use that blade?"

"Yeah." Ven rolled his eyes. "I mean, duh! I wouldn't carry it around if I didn't. That'd be dangerous."

"I agree," Aqua murmured, scratching her head. "Well, Ven, someday I'd love to duel you. If that's alright? I've only ever really had one opponent, and… I mean, that sword looks like it was made special. Eh?" Aqua licked her lips, her tongue nearly fumbling over her words. Boy-talk was so difficult to grasp.

Ven shrugged, grasping the bow-sheath tightly, and Aqua could see his growing discomfort. "I made it myself," he said, pursing his cracked and dirty lips.

Aqua stared at him, and she glanced at the sheath again, feeling herself gape. "You're a smith?" she gasped, feeling her pitch raise. "Gods, how did you manage that?"

"I dunno, I just learned how one time a while ago when I was bored. I make weapons and armor and stuff when people ask. I don't charge, so if you want something, you can ask." He shot Aqua a grin, this one so innocent she felt taken aback by how child-like he appeared.

"That's a really kind offer," Aqua said softly. She didn't even bother masking her voice now. "I'm not sure if I can accept something like that."

The boy snorted, and he scooped the coin out of his hat, pocketing it, and he plopped it onto his head so his right hand was free. "Which arm is your sword arm?"

"Well, right, but I don't—" She stopped herself as he grabbed her arm and pulled it out to full length, comparing it to his own arm, and then to his bow. Aqua stood silently, feeling awkward and guilty. "I don't need a sword," she insisted, but he heard none of it.

"Wow, you're way tinier than you look!" Ven nudged her leg with his toe, and Aqua spun away on impact, tearing her arm from his grasp. He stared at her as she hunched over defensively, and whistled. "Light on your feet too."

"I guess…" Aqua relaxed a little, her guilt present once again. She felt dumb and self-conscious. "Look, Ven, I don't need a sword. Really. You shouldn't waste your strengths on strangers."

"You're not a stranger." He smiled big, and Aqua felt even more awful about all of this. "You were my friend from the moment you gave me this." Ven pulled the coin from his pocket, waving the copper piece between two fingers. "I'm pretty dumb, I'll admit it. Didn't get to go to school, you know? But gosh, I like to pride myself in my taste in people, and you are a quality person!" He bowed in a mock courteous way (or maybe it truly was courteous, she couldn't be sure), and he turned on his heel and began to walk away. And then he turned back to look at her.

"Hey, I'm gonna need a name to call upon my new friend, once I get this sword done," he said, his words soft. The blue haired girl blinked slowly, and she smiled back at him.

"Aqua," she said, her lips forming her true name before she could stop them, and she felt herself freeze up. Ven grinned, thinking nothing of it.

"Later, then, Aqua!" he cried, before bolting down the street quicker than Aqua could have imagined a human could move.

Xion was not very well versed in the world of beauty. Sure, she was a pretty girl, or so Terra told her when she began to criticize her appearance, but she really just did not get it. She could not handle the mess of black hair that hung a little below her ears, and she couldn't get her lips to get into that full pouty look her stepmother had, and her complexion was a weird half-tan that came from the days she was allowed to go outside and ride a horse, or play in the pond. She never left the grounds, though.

So getting ready for the ball was something she just had no idea how to do. She stared at herself in her mirror, her face screwed up as she tried to pick through her makeup and find the right type to use, and finally she just gave up.

"Makeup is stupid anyway," she huffed, pushing back her chair and turning her back to the mirror. "Gods, why couldn't I have a sister…" She regretted these words the moment they left her mouth. She didn't mean that.

"Okay," she said to herself, turning back to her mirror. "I've got four hours. I'll be fine."

She was lying to herself. She had no idea what to do. So when Terra knocked on her door a short while later, she jumped up and bolted to the door, swinging it open with such a force that it smacked against the wall. "You have to help me," she gasped, grabbing his arm and yanking him into the room, slamming the door behind him before the guard could comment.

"Um…" Terra shifted awkwardly as he looked around Xion's room, which was in such a disarray, he could barely see the wood beneath all the clothes strewn about the floor. "Xion, I'm not exactly sure how much help I'll be."

"Oh, don't lie, Terra, you look more like a girl than I do." Xion grabbed the mask her brother had bought for her from the floor, still not sure what dress to wear with it.

Terra looked offended by her comment, but he brushed it off as the joke it was, and he shook his head. "Alright, fine, sit," he sighed, and she grinned at him, blurting her thanks before he hushed her and pushed her toward the chair.

"Oh, gods," she whispered, staring at herself in the mirror. "Stepmother is right. I'm disgusting."

"Xion," Terra growled, snatching her brush. "Shut your mouth. My mother is a liar, and you're a fool for believing her."

"Wow," Xion laughed as he began to brush out her cropped black hair. "I'm sorry, this coming from you? You believe everything anyone tells you!"

"No I don't!" Terra yanked hard on the brush, and Xion cried out as Terra tore at the tangled strands. After a moment of silence the boy groaned. "Damn it, I set the worst example for you."

"That hurt," Xion mumbled, her fingers brushing the back of her head tenderly. "And yes, you do."

Terra brushed her hair without comment for a while after that, letting her hair become silky between his fingers, and he stepped back. "Okay, I don't know what else to do." He was being honest, and he handed his sister back her brush. "I'm not a girl, Xi, I've got no clue how to work with this now."

"Well, you're prettier than me," Xion grumbled. "How do you manage that? Do all boys have it this easy?"

"I'm not pretty," Terra hissed while Xion giggled. "Gods, fine, give me a clip. How do you want it?"

"My hair?" Xion blinked up at him, and he scowled.

"No, your roasted pig," he said sharply, turning her head toward the mirror. "Yes, Xion, your hair."

"Oh, um…" She bit her lip and looked up at him in the mirror, her expression pleading, and Terra felt his irritation vanish. She really had no idea what she was doing. "Just… how you used to do it, I guess?"

It took a moment for Terra to realize what she meant. "Oh, you mean the braids?" Terra wasn't sure if he could remember how to do that. Aqua had taught him how to braid hair years before, when she could pass for a boy as easily as a dirty, scrawny twelve year old could. She didn't have to disguise her voice or wrap her chest.

"Yes," Xion said quietly. "The braids. I liked them."

Terra nodded slowly, taking a piece of short raven hair between his fingers and staring at it dumbly for a moment. Oh, why was she trusting him with this? He sighed and began to braid, weaving pieces of her hair into each other with slight difficulty. He had to start over twice before it came out the way he wanted. He was quiet for a short while, his mind stuck on his mother's behavior the previous night. He was wary of her kindness, and afraid for Xion. The woman was lethal, for sure, and Terra had learned the hard way what trusting her could do. It took five 'accidents', the last nearly taking Xion's life for Terra to realize just how evil his mother was.

"Okay," Terra said, pulling the up and pushing it against the upper side of Xion's head to test its appearance. It actually didn't look half bad. "Give me a pin, or something."

"Ahead of you," she said with a small smile, holding out a crimson fake flower that had long black lace for leaves. This was something Terra had gotten her for her father's funeral years previous, and she had not worn it since. "As always."

Terra took the flower tentatively, gazing at the silken thing for a long moment before tucking it in her hair. Some of her bangs were pulled into the braid, which reached from her roots and wrapped halfway around her head, so Terra could see the girl's eyes clearly. The blue was deep, but not quite as dark as his eyes were. Xion often said their eye color marked them as siblings, and Terra didn't dare tell her that most of the Kingdom had blue eyes anyway.

"Alright, so are we good now?" Terra asked, peering over at her face. She was staring at herself in the mirror, her expression unreadable. "I'm not putting anything on your face, no matter what you say. That stuff will make you look like a clown."

Xion stared at her reflection for a second longer, and she glanced up at Terra and smiled slightly. "No, I think you've done enough for me already. Thank you, Terra."

Terra stared at his stepsister, feeling suddenly very useless. Perhaps he could get Aqua to tell him how to deal with girl things, or better yet, let Aqua meet Xion and see how the two girls hit off. He'd have to do that tonight. "You look beautiful, Xion," Terra murmured, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her toward him, kissing her head. She sputtered and laughed, pushing him playfully.

"You're such a bad liar," she said quietly.

Naminé gazed at the dress sitting on her bed, wondering how Vanitas had even come to find such a pretty thing. It was small, and made of thin white silk that was almost to delicate to touch. She wondered if it would fit her, and then she wondered what she would do with her hair. She was sure the captain wouldn't want her to keep the nun veil on for the ball, but she had no idea what to do with the yards and yards of thick blonde hair.

She jumped when a knock broke the silence, and she spun around to stare at her door. Backing away, she looked around for somewhere to hide, and she found a small nook between her bed and the window. She dropped to the floor, her hair pooling around her feet, and she pressed her back against the wall with her knees pressed to her chest.

Vanitas didn't know of her little adventure out on the deck the previous night, or at least he didn't appear to know. He was an enigma, to say the least, and Naminé was careful to avoid him. Could it be that Axel had finally spilled the secret, and now Vanitas was out to make her bend to his whim?

The door opened slowly, and Naminé felt her breathing stop as the floor boards creaked, and the ship swayed.

"Naminé?" a voice called, a timid voice that she scarcely recognized, but she knew for certain it was not Vanitas.

She blinked as a boy peered around her bed, his face stark in the lamplight, and her eyebrows furrowed. "Who are you?" she asked carefully, his face striking her recognition.

"Sorry." He walked around her bed and stood before her with a cautious smile. "I'm Roxas. I haven't really talked to you before."

"No one has," she said in a whisper. "Just excepting Vanitas and Axel, everyone here treats me like the plague."

The boy, Roxas, smiled and nodded. "They talk ill of you," he said, bending to his knees before her. "To them, you might as well be the plague."

Naminé glanced down at her knees, not sure how to handle this information. She felt a twinge of guilt, realizing that Axel had been right about everyone hating her. "Did Vanitas send you here, Roxas?" she asked bitterly.

His eyes widened, and Naminé turned away from him. She had no interest in dealing with the captain right now.

"No," Roxas said, shaking his head. "I came here to ask if you were alright."

She looked up at him sharply, and her eyes darted away fast as she tried to compose herself. She didn't understand his words, and she didn't understand his kindness, and she was confused out of her mind. She looked back at him. "Why?"

He shrugged, brushing some sweaty, grimy blond hair from his forehead. "Axel told me about what happened with the wolf," he said. "I wanted to know if it did anything to you. Bite you, scratch you? It ain't usual that it just lets a person go without making a mark."

Naminé sat up straight at the mention of the wolf, her eyes widening, and she let her knees fall. "It just growled," she said, shaking her head. "But what's its name? Where did you get it? Why is it on this ship, and not somewhere in the forest?"

"Whoa, whoa! One question at a time!" Roxas blinked fast, glancing around at the small room. "Uh, damn, alright. It doesn't have a name, we're not that nice. We just call it 'the wolf', and we got it years and years ago. I wouldn't be able to tell you where it comes from." He looked back at her. "But Vanitas likes to have it around. He can control it easily, and gods know he loves to control things."

"I've noticed," Naminé breathed. "Why is it so big?"

"It's a dire wolf…" Roxas regarded her with a blank stare for a long moment. "I don't get it. I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but whenever I see you around here you always look like you're about to jump out of your own skin from fear. But you don't seem the tiniest bit scared by the fact you got attacked by a wolf last night."

"He didn't attack me," Naminé said, frowning at the blond boy. "He just growled a little after I touched him. I just don't understand why he's not free." Naminé pushed herself to her feet and stared at the ground. "Thank you, Roxas, for your concern, and your kindness, but I don't think the wolf is what I need to be afraid of."

He stared up at her, his mouth dropping a little. Then he laughed a little, nodding, and rising to his feet. "You're right," he said, his gaze gloomy despite his smile. "There are worse things to fear."

I didn't actually realize the similarities between some of this and Pirate of the Caribbean until someone pointed it out, and Ven being a blacksmith was just a coincidence. I've had a lot of Gendry Waters feels lately, sooo.

AQUA IS BACK. Praise the lord. I enjoy her story, and it's about to get more interesting.

I'm trying to remember what I wanted to say. Oh, White Knight. Still not feeling it. I feel like it's half writer's block, half fear. Idk.

You know, I just want to know some shit about Frozen. You know, the Disney movie based off The Snow Queen, 2013? All I know is that Kristen Bell is playing... probably Gerda? I think Gerda.

Can I just express my excitement for this story? I mean, I haven't finished reading The Snow Queen yet (forgive me, I haven't had the time!), because it's kind of really long and stuff, but I know what happens, basically. It's nice that we're going to have this flip-flopped situation where the guy is in distress for the majority of the time, and the girl, who's just a normal little girl, saves his ass. Also I like that the villain is the titular character. I hope Disney does well, like they did with Tangled. People are afraid that they'll modify it like they did The Little Mermaid, but I think that's really invalid? The Snow Queen has a happy ending. Why the hell would they change anything?

Not prepared for the Red Wedding on GoT either. I'm assuming it's called the Red Wedding because of blood? It probably has a double meaning.

Someone is going to die, oh god. I wonder who it is...

-Dani