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Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to Nintendo and their affiliates. I just am really grateful to its creators for giving me such a wonderful game and media series to write about!


Chapter Thirteen


This morning I woke up in a daze. It was the pills, they worked well and had me sleeping like a baby, but now I felt like I was falling from a cloud. As soon as I stood up I fell back down on the bed; my head was spinning, like vertigo. From experience, I knew this sensation would pass in a few minutes. As would the sensitivity to light.

Knowing this and dealing with it are two different things, I thought to myself as I squinted at the light coming through the blinds. I sat up and stretched my arms over my head; my back smarted, but only faintly now. The pain medicine had done its job for the most part. I glanced around the room and noticed that Daisy wasn't around. The bed was made up on her side, though, so she was in the apartment. Maybe in the kitchen eating. I stood.

"Morning," Daisy greeted from the doorway.

She was up and dressed in a pair of cloth shorts and a t-shirt, one of mine that had the Ramones logo emblazoned across the front. I saw that she had food with her; a plate in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. My stomach howled at the sight of it. She smiled, but not for long. Something was making her somber.

"Morning," I greeted, sitting back down.

The girl came over to me and sat down beside me, then handed me the food. It smelled divine. There were eggs and pancakes and sausage links. All of this came from plastic packages, granted, but it still looked great. I took the fork and was about to dig in but stopped.

"Did you already eat?" I asked.

She nodded and said, "I've been up a while."

"Doing what?" I asked curiously.

I leaned back against the headboard and set the milk on the nightstand. Daisy turned to face me with her leg tucked under her and her hands in her lap. She blew out a sigh before answering.

"Thinking."

" 'Bout what?"

"Lots of stuff," She replied vaguely, then said, "We have to talk."

"Okay," I said easily.

Daisy glanced at me and explained, "I was wrong last night. I thought that if I lay with you, all my memories of the...of him wouldn't bother me anymore. That was stupid of me."

"Daisy," I said softly.

"No, Luigi, I was being incredibly naive." She argued. "Sex doesn't fix problems. I need to tell you what happened to me, I need to get this out so that I can move on."

I nodded and told her, "Yeah, you're right."

I could feel my blood pumping faster, could feel the sweat building up under my palms and feet. This was the very talk I'd been dreading. I didn't want to know what the late tyrant had done to her. It would only inspire ire within me and I wouldn't be able to take it out on him because the clever bastard had gone and got himself killed. But if Daisy thought this would help her, I would no doubt hear her out. She was just as nervous as I was, what with the way she was wringing her hands and looking down at her knees.

For comfort I told her, "You don't have to do this now if you don't want to."

Okay, I'll be honest; that was more a coward move on my part than an act of compassion towards her. I was being selfish, so shoot me.

To my misfortune, Daisy said resolutely, "No. I need to talk about this. I need to or else he'll have a hold on me still and I'm not gonna' let that demon plague me from beyond the grave."

The determination was flying off of her like sparks, and was reflected in her hardened light eyes. She was definitely going to get this out. I returned to my breakfast and nodded.

"Alright."

Daisy took a calming breath and said, "First of all, I know you might be worried but um. I didn't, that is, he never raped me. Not once."

That was certainly a relief. I visibly relaxed and Daisy smiled weakly at me. She then frowned in consternation.

"He had the chance to, lots of times," She remarked, "but he never did. I fought him every time he touched me, but he's the Dark King, er, at least he was; he could have easily overpowered me and had his way."

"That's good that he didn't though, right?" I asked her, befuddled.

It would seem that it bothered her more that he didn't. I didn't understand. Daisy smiled bitterly at my question.

"I wouldn't say that." She said cryptically. "Luigi, you have to understand; everything he did to me served a specific purpose. It was his daily goal to mess with my head. He liked to assert his power over me because I didn't exactly act like the typical prisoner.

"It all started with the day he got poisoned," She sighed. "He came into the kitchen and threatened all the workers, even arrested some people, including a friend of mine, but he singled me out first for some reason. It was like he could see right through me."

The girl had to stop because a small shudder wracked through her. She shut her eyes gently and breathed in, then exhaled through her o-shaped lips before continuing. I assumed she was re-living that moment.

"From then on, he started testing me, as Ludwig put it. He would ask me to make his morning meal and then make me eat it in front of him, to see if I'd poisoned him." She told me.

"But you didn't," I said, remembering that incident.

Daisy said, "I'm the one who gave Peach the oil, so I may as well have."

"Ludwig's the one who gave it to you," I pointed out.

And just like that, all the resentment I felt towards him came bubbling back to the surface. I fought to keep a scowl off my face even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt that all of Daisy's suffering was because of him. Nothing would make me forget that, nothing he could do would make me forgive him. He's lucky I don't just...

Be in the moment, I coaxed myself. Daisy was speaking again.

"The point is," She stated, "I was getting scared and I think the Dark King picked up on that. He kept testing me until finally I got arrested."

"He found out?" I asked.

"His Court did." She relayed. "They never liked me from the start, and Ludwig said it was only a matter of time before they weeded me out as a spy."

"Wait, so he knew this would happen?" I seethed, "And he still let you go along with this mess?"

"Calm down, please Luigi," She implored, "I know you're mad but it was inevitably my choice to do all that I did. I could have left any time I chose."

"Could you have?" I countered, "Or were you too busy feeding into the lies and guilt trips Ludwig were dishing out?"

I didn't mean to sound so harsh and I especially didn't mean to get Daisy upset. Her light eyes were dimmed with regret and she was lowering her head with what I thought was shame. I put the plate down at once on the nightstand and leaned forward to draw her into my arms. Daisy crawled over so that she was sitting in my lap with her back flush against my chest. I settled against the headboard once more.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, "I just really don't like that boy."

"Me either," She agreed. "But he did help us out."

"He wouldn't have lifted a finger if there wasn't something in it for him, believe me," I told her assuredly.

Daisy made a noise of reluctant agreement and then said, "Well anyway, it was all downhill from there, as you can imagine."

"I can't really say that, seeing as he never even told me when you'd gotten arrested. He let me find out the hard way," I recounted bitterly.

Daisy stiffened and asked slowly, "He didn't tell you?"

"No." I said sourly, "He wouldn't have. Said it'd make me crazy or some bullshit like that. He waited until we'd gone to get Peach to admit it. No wait, he didn't; it was the princess who'd told me what happened."

Daisy grew very quiet. She then said evenly, "Luigi, let's not waste our breath on these things; he'll get what's coming to him."

"Not soon enough," I muttered.

She then asked curiously, "How did you get locked up anyway? The king kept telling me you'd stolen his 'woman', did that happen the same night Peach got out?"

"Yup," I told her. "He locked me up right after I punched him in the jaw a few times."

"You didn't!" Daisy breathed, eager and in awe.

I shrugged. "Ludwig was right. Once I found out he had you, I went a little crazy. I really didn't care if he killed me on the spot, I just wanted to get at him."

"Luigi," Daisy spoke in admonishment, then amended, "Actually, I can't be too judgmental. I hit him too, lots of times. Even when I thought he'd kill me. I just got so angry with him because he kept playing games with me."

"Games?" I ventured.

"He liked to have control over my physical condition and my mental one, too. But I wouldn't give in." She explained. "He would hurt me, stab me, slap me, put his hands on my body and make me..."

I was glad she stopped there because the rage was like a burning set of flames engulfing me. My heart was racing and my hands, though they were settled around her, itched to tear something apart. I felt Daisy take a shuddering breath and looked down at her; she was biting the corner of her bottom lip. But she didn't stop in her speech.

"He realized that I kept fighting him at every turn," She said quietly, "So he started to play with my mind. He would starve me, then offer me food in exchange for answers to his questions."

"Which ones?"

"It doesn't matter," She dismissed, "He knew that I wasn't going to let him put his hands on me without retaliating, so he bribed me with food, knowing I was famished, and laced the foods with something that made me all weak. Needless to say, he'd gotten what he wanted. But even then, I found the strength to stab him. That was the time he really did almost kill me."

"What?" I frowned.

Daisy had tears in her eyes. "This was the night I felt so ashamed, because I begged him, I told him I'd tell him whatever he wanted to know so long as he didn't kill me."

"Hey," I soothed, "It wasn't your fault you said that; you were scared. He pushed you to that point."

"I would have sold you out that night," She said in a shaky voice, all guilty-like.

I shook my head and said, "You didn't, though. And honestly, I wouldn't have cared if you did. I was in a cell and he wanted answers from me, so he wouldn't have done away with me just yet. I just wish you didn't have to go through all this and be at his mercy."

"Well it's done," She sniffed, less upset and more passive. "It's over. I survived. I survived the hitting and the abuse and the molestation and all his traps; I got through it."

"Clearly," I added, impressed. "You're the strongest person I know."

She smiled a watery smile and said, "Thanks. But you know what bothers me the most?"

"What?"

"He kept saying that I was like him." She said. "He claimed that since I stabbed him and did some underhanded things, I was just like him. I stabbed him. I used his own son against him. I beat him unconscious with a frying pan and stabbed him in the back. But I'm not like him...I'm not, right?"

She gazed up at me with fear and panic and I had to set her at ease at once because I couldn't take seeing her that way. I reached down and stroked the side of her face, using my thumb to wipe the wetness from her cheek and then bent down to kiss her forehead.

"You are nothing like that monster," I assured her. "He did what he did because he was a sadistic asshole. You did what you did because you're a fighter and you're brave. He only told you that lie because he wanted to mess with your head, like you said. He was a menace and somebody like you deserved to take him out. I don't think any less of you for anything you did."

Daisy let out more tears and smiled brokenly. "Thank you, Luigi. I needed to hear that."

"I need a drink." I said before I could stop myself.

She wiped her face and smirked, saying, "You serious? Because I know a place."

I chuckled softly and said with disbelief, "You know a place? In Brooklyn?"

"I get around," She said defensively. "There's a nightclub downtown. They serve alcohol, a friend of mine told me it's like a tavern of sorts. We could go, if you want to get a drink. I would understand. This is a lot to lay on someone."

"Yeah, but you're the one who went through it," I sighed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm a whole lot better, now that I've talked with you." She admitted with a tentative smile. "The thing about being like him was bothering me more than I ever knew. I feel like some huge weight around my neck has been lifted."

"I'm glad," I told her. "But I don't know if you want to go to that club downtown."

She craned her neck to face me and asked, "Why not?"

"Well, it's raunchy and packed with sweaty bodies and it smells awful, for starters. Let's just say the drinks are the only redeeming factor," I told her candidly.

She pouted her mouth and said wryly, "Luigi, I've been to taverns and pubs. I think I know what's in store. But that's not the only reason I wanna' go."

"Oh?"

Here she colored a bit and said, "I um, I watch these music videos, and there are some dances I liked, ones I wanted to show you."

"I see," I smiled lightly. "I guess we can check it out, then."

And although I was smiling for her, inside I was a wreck. I was mad and frustrated and despondent all at once. It may have been therapeutic for her to just unload on me and go, but I was having trouble processing all this. I really would need some time to deal with all this. And a drink. Or maybe several.


Something was pulling him by the insides, by the soul, guiding him out of his bed and down to the lower levels of the palace. He could feel a rippling flame undulating within him as he trudged blindly through the large throne room. Once he got to the dungeons, he walked mechanically down each step and passed row upon row of cells, stopping at a specific one on the right though he knew not why. He used brute strength to slam open the barred door, making it rattle violently, and then sauntered into the small room. There was someone already there, a girl, a little thing bound to the metal bed hanging on the wall.

Her hands were above her head, held in place by thick rope that was hooked over a dagger someone jammed in the stone wall. She wore a dirtied white gown that was too short and too tight for her body type and had wavy dark hair. He knew this girl. He knew what he had to do; he had to break her. He had to make her yield to him. She was looking at him defiantly, there was so much hate in those light eyes, and she was fighting against her binds with a equal amounts of determination and desperation. She was so terrified and yet so adamant in her resolve to hide the fact. It was only making him want her more.

The want, it was so strong. Made him ache with the need to control her, to tame her rebellious spirit. As a man approaching his prize he stalked over to her, putting his hands over her knees. She stiffened and then began writhing furiously, trying to move her legs out of his reach and failing. He couldn't beat the smirk off his lips; he had her right in his grasp and there was nothing she could do to fend him off. He brought his face down into the crook of her neck.

Her flesh tasted of sweat and fear, so enticing to him. He thrived on the noises she made when he bit down on her skin and made dark marks there and along her jaw. His hands moved over her entire body and though her mouth was moving, he couldn't hear a word she said. All he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears, the steady thumping of his heart beating rapidly in all his excitement. He pulled her by the thighs so that she was flush against him and then-

Abruptly Ludwig awoke, face down on his bed atop the covers and with his left arm hanging off the side of the mattress. He was painfully aroused and confused as ever.

That dream, he thought to himself, it felt too real.


You know that feeling you get when you see your teacher in the grocery store or the mall or some other public place outside of school? You know that awkward feeling you get? Well, multiply it times a thousand and you might understand how I felt at this very moment.

It was late in the day and since it was the weekend, I didn't have to work. Daisy had taken an impromptu day off, what with our, er, eventful night yesterday, so she was inside watching television. I was coming out to go pick up some Chinese food for lunch and that's when I saw an unwelcome face coming from what I knew to be my little stalker's apartment room. It was none other than that scumbag moocher Terry. He was fixing his shirt and wearing this huge moronic grin. When he saw me up here on the third floor, he gave me a salute and left. I felt the bile rise to my throat for several reasons.

One, because Terry was a sleazebag and a jerk and the thought of him around anybody's daughter or niece was highly unsettling. Two, well, Tanya was just a kid really, I think she turned twenty only a month ago. She was a girl, and Terry was older than me. And all the other reasons stemmed from the fact that I just really disliked and despised Terry. He was what I thought of when I went looking for synonyms for shady, low-down, nasty human beings. I didn't know what he was doing at Tanya's apartment, but I didn't have a good feeling about it.


There were dreams, and then there were moments of pure subconscious bliss in which one's every wish and fantasy were fulfilled throughout the course of an hour or two. Wendy was experiencing the latter quite thoroughly, and could count herself as one of the lucky few who could say as much. It seemed only cruelly fitting that she be pulled from her slumber by the likes of someone shaking her roughly. She woke with a start and a cough, and then blinked blearily. The girl glanced around her dark room and noticed the tall figure of her long-haired eldest brother. She turned onto her side facing the wall with a groan and covered herself up to her chin.

"Rise and shine, little sister." He greeted tonelessly.

"Leave me alone," She croaked petulantly.

He sighed and yanked the blankets clean off of her, then pulled her by the arm until she was standing barefoot on her carpet floor. She shivered in her cloth shorts and t-shirt and wrapped her arms around herself. She had half a mind to dive back into the bed, but she knew her monstrous brother would only jerk her out of it once more so she decided to save herself the trouble.

"What do you want?" She groused.

"It's time you start training." He answered simply.

"Now?" She huffed, "The sun isn't even up yet!"

Ludwig regarded her silently. He was up for hours, having been pulled from sleep by that horrendous dream. He'd tried to go back but had an even more vivid episode in which he deflowered Sarasaland's princess, to put it in mild terms.

I have no idea why I keep dreaming of her, He thought, but I won't let it bother me. It's just a dream. And I can't say it's unwarranted; the girl has been on my mind lately.

He gazed back at Wendy and said, "Get dressed and meet me in the courtyard in five minutes."

"No," She frowned, "I don't want to."

"That doesn't matter," He clipped. "Get dressed in something loose and appropriate and come to the courtyard."

"And what if I don't?" She challenged tiredly.

"Then I will have to come get you," Ludwig said evenly, "and I know you don't want that."

Wendy groaned again melodramatically but relented. She figured the sooner she complied, the sooner she'd be done with him.

How hard could training be anyway, she thought to herself.

Thus, when Ludwig left her room and shut her door behind himself, she hurried up and made her bed, then changed into a pair of Roy's black silk pants and a t-shirt. She slipped on a pair of pink socks and her older brother Roy's black trainers, knowing she'd have to answer to him later about her recent borrowings. Once she'd tied up her hair in a high ponytail, she trudged out of her room and went to the courtyard. Ludwig was waiting, dressed formally in his navy silk pants and long-sleeved matching shirt. He had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and she only then noticed that his pale skin looked even more so. His hair had gotten darker, though, as it matched the same shade of his fine clothes. He settled his emerald eyes on her intensely.

"You're late."

"Sor-ry." She pouted, drawing the word out sarcastically. She was already in a mood.

Ludwig moved his hand through his hair so that it was pushed over his shoulder and then paced the length of the courtyard until he got to her. He pointed to the other end and spoke.

"Run back and forth until I tell you to stop." He ordered quietly.

She cocked a blonde brow and said, "For what?"

"Because I said so."

Again Wendy groaned but sighed. She set her feet at the edge of the stone ground and took off. By the time she'd made it to the other end, she realized how expansive the courtyard really was. She stopped to catch her breath. Ludwig appeared beside her.

"I didn't tell you to stop." He reminded her.

She rolled her eyes at him and continued in her running. By the time she'd done five or six laps, she was tired. She stopped in the middle of the courtyard and bent over, hands on her thighs, panting. She looked up at the sky; the sun wasn't even close to the horizon yet.

"Keep running," Ludwig called from where he was pacing.

Wendy shot a glare his way but did as she was told and ran the rest of her lap. Then she ran another. And another. And three more after that. She had to shut her eyes because she felt a headache coming on. The sinking feeling of her feet reaching the grass let her know she was at the edge of one end of the courtyard and therefore had to turn in the other direction. The laps began to blur into a constant, never-ending path of burning thighs and weakening ankles. She was breathing so hard and so shallowly that she feared her lungs would burst. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Ludwig-" She could barely wheeze.

"Don't stop."

"But I-"

"Keep going!" He yelled at her.

She felt a lump growing in her throat. Her stomach was tossing up and down with each time her foot hit the ground. She felt like she was going to pass out. Her cheeks were wet with tears. The sun was coming up. Her head was spinning.

"That's enough."

Wendy thought she'd never hear the words but they'd yet come, soft-spoken and mercifully timed. She collapsed to her bottom, not caring that her knees got scraped in the process. She was so tired, her chest was heaving and her head was throbbing. She could barely steady her blurred vision as her brother's boots came into view. He gazed down at her blank-faced.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked with soft reproach.

Her subsequent answer came in the form of a slew of vomit splashing all over his black shoes.


There was a mark on his hand. Vain as he was, he was surprised that he didn't notice it earlier in the day. It was near noon. He didn't recall it being there the previous day, so he had to conclude he'd gotten it today. It was small, minuscule, and bright crimson, like a little dot in the middle of the back of his hand. It didn't itch or sting, and it wasn't sensitive to the touch. It was just there. He resolved to visit the medical wing once he got back to the palace and apply a salve to take care of it.

"Is something the matter, Majesty?"

Peasley turned from his hand to the girl who'd spoken, the black-haired Nina. She was but one twin of two that he was sandwiched in between, the other being her fifteen-year-old sister Mina. They wore their hair in their own distinct patterns, which was the only way Peasley could tell them apart: Mina donned ringlets while Nina wore hers pin-straight and clipped to the side. Identical blue sundresses they sported today as the three enjoyed a lunch outside the palace in the meadows. Peasley had hardly eaten, which was the main cause for alarm in the young girl.

He turned to her and said, "I'm well, Nina. Don't you fret. How goes your learning?"

"Well indeed," She replied.

Her sister said, "But the time can't pass quickly enough."

"And why is that?" Peasley asked, amused.

He picked a piece of grass off his olive-green pants and smiled faintly. He saw an ant cross over his dark green boot and wondered idly if a bite from such a creature had caused the mark on his hand.

Not hardly, he thought, it doesn't itch at all like an ant bite would.

Mina chirped excitedly, "The Spring Festival is coming up!"

"Which means there will be a ball at the end of the week," Nina supplied.

"And neither of us can wait to dance with you, Majesty," Mina finished with a demure blush.

Ah. The Spring Festival. I nearly forgotten about that, Peasley mused. He again smiled a little and plucked two little daisies from the grass, handing one to each of the girls.

"Remain diligent in your studies," Peasley spoke, "and I may just escort you both there myself."

The girls were fit to swoon.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I worked hard on it. I get a lot of pleasure out of reading what you think so don't hesitate to leave a review! It's like crack-cocaine for me, haha.

Until next time!

~DymondGold~