"My name is Gideon Gleeful!" The boy yelled, staring up at the triangular entity in front of him. "And I am your new master!"

Bill rolled his eye, "Okay. What do you want?"

If he could shake his head, he would – why did he always get picked up by children who didn't know the full extent of the power they were dealing with? It was always the same – I am your new master, you are under my command, bow down to me, demon! Really, why couldn't it just be in, wish, out. It would make his job so much easier.

"Uh…" the boy drawled stupidly, mouth hanging agape as he searched his mind for something else to say. "You're not going to resist?" He asked, eyeing Bill dubiously. "You're just gonna… give me what I want?"

"Yes." Bill answered, in a tone he usually reserved for snarking those more powerful than he, not that there were many of those left. When Gideon continued to stare it him with disbelief, Bill sighed, "You rubbed my lamp, didn't you?"

Gideon blinked a few times before he realised that he actually was being asked a question, and he spluttered, "Um. Yes, I did! I rubbed your lamp!"

Bill eyed the boy with distaste – his last master hadn't been this much of a wimp, and she was six! Than again, maybe this boy was just smart enough to realise that he was a real threat, which was good. He liked it when they were afraid of him; it was more fun that way. He noticed the way the boy's heart beat frantically in his chest, and he frowned. Maybe he was being a bit too hard on the kid – he had been told he was a bit of a grouch when he'd just woken up.

Maybe this 'Gideon' wouldn't be so bad.

"Okay then! I'm at your command! Get on with it!" Bill exclaimed, a drop of his impatience making it into his word, despite his attempts to force a bit more cheer into his voice than he would have liked – the kid had better be grateful after all of this extra effort. "What do you want? You get three wishes, but I don't resurrect the dead, kill people, make people fall in love with other people OR grant you more wishes. Got it, kid?"

Gideon nodded, "Yes! Uh…" He seemed to contemplate his choices, and Bill forced his eye not to roll of its own volition. Why did people never know what they were going to wish for? It wasn't even like they only got one wish – they got three! Bill knew exactly what he would wish for, if genies could grant wishes for others of their kind, that was. "I want you to…" Gideon bit his lip, "To…"

Nope, Bill decided, this kid was just really annoying.

Patience wearing thin, Bill finished the boy's sentence for him. "Turn you into a cat?" He clicked his fingers, and a ball of blue fire bounced along the grass and landed on Gideon's leg. The boy screamed as the fire crept up his body, the flames catching on to his clothes and spreading quickly across his chest and arms, shrinking him down. He screamed even louder when he realised that it was him sinking lower and not Bill rising higher, and he patted frantically at the flames, as if that was going to do anything.

After another three seconds of undulated screaming, Gideon was less than a foot tall, his white hair sprouted all over his body and his blue suit fitting his tiny kitten body perfectly. Gideon meowed frantically at Bill, and the genie could see the panic rolling off his small furry body in waves. He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll turn you back! But don't waste any more of my time, shortstack!"

Bill snapped his fingers again and the small white cat's limbs began to elongate, its fur shedding and falling away in thick white clumps as the boy's figure grew more like it had been before. He looked terrified now, his hands visibly shaking, and Bill smirked inside his head - the kid finallyunderstood what he was capable of, and as an added bonus, he seemed to understand how Bill could get when he was done with waiting.

Bill had already been out of the lamp for ten minutes, and he hadn't seen a single thing of the world yet. Seven hundred years he'd been trapped in that lamp – he had seven centuries of human history to catch up on! He wanted to see if his last master had made good on his promise to invent a sweet snack made out of corn, and he couldn't do hat until this brat had made his damn wishes. Gideon glared up at Bill, angrily swiping cat hair off of his suit, and Bill rolled his eye again. "First wish – go!"

Gideon chewed on his lip. He had planned to do away with Dipper and Mabel once and for all with his first wish, but if the genie was against killing then that wasn't going to happen. With that in mind, Gideon peered up at the genie through short white lashes, and settled for the next best thing. "I wish you would make the lives of Mabel and Dipper Pines miserable until the end of time!" He commanded.

Bill stared down at the kid, metaphorical eyebrow raised expectantly, since he didn't actually have any eyebrows. He tried his best not to laugh when the boy yelled out his wish, unbeknownst to him giving the genie a free pass at the rest of the world. As soon as he was done with Gideon's other two wishes, now that he'd been released from that infernal lamp, he could do anything he could think of – that was, if no one succeeded to stuff him back into his golden prison… again. Bill grinned in his mind as the boy stared into Bill's eye, apprehension playing at the back of his red eyes.

"Done!" Bill yelled, clapping his hands together. Fire sparked out from the clashing palms, the flamed crawling up Bill's thin black arms and catching on to the rest of his body, muting his yellow with sparkling blue.

"And make yourself look human, before you give someone a heart attack!" Gideon yelled after him, and Bill had just enough time before the fire had completely taken over his body to reach out a large black hand and flick the kid in the stomach, knocking him flat on his ass.

.

. .

"Dipper, we have to save Pacifica," Mabel cried, legs drawn close to her chest and puffy red-rimmed eyes threatening to spill tears down her even redder cheeks. "She's all alone in there! And if they know she ran away, who knows what they'll do to her! She must be so scared."

Dipper ran a hand through Mabel's hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, biting the nails of the other as he thought over the night's events.

When they had finally made it home, the sky was light, the birds in the trees singing brightly as the sun rose over the mountaintops adding to the serenity that seamlessly contrasted every second of the twins' evening up to this point. They had almost fallen through the front door, so enamoured with being home and this close to their beds that their exhausted minds hadn't noticed how easily they'd gotten in.

The front door was open.

Mabel had groggily walked through to the living room, apologising to Pacifica for being late before she even realised the blonde was gone. She frowned when Pacifica wasn't there, or in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the small area that had acted as a shop back when their Grunkles still ran the place. Assuming that Pacifica had simply made her way upstairs, Mabel wandered up after her. She poked her head into every room, even climbed the ladder up to the basement, but there was no sign of the girl anywhere.

Panic finally setting in, Mabel ran downstairs, yelling the other girl's name as she made her way back to the kitchen. She had found Dipper there, fast asleep with his head in the open refrigerator, cheek resting against a cold glass shelf. Mabel frantically shook him awake, not bothering to think that this was the first time she'd seen her brother sleep in days. When he peeled his eyes open groggily, staring up at a blurry Mabel, he was unable to see the pure dread written across her features.

When he heard her feeble sniffles, though, he was wide awake. He slammed the fridge door and grabbed Mabel's shoulders, urging her to tell him what was wrong, and when she said that Pacifica was gone, his blood ran cold – Gideon had double crossed them. Again!

He had carted her into the living room and shoved her down on the sofa, hurriedly making her a cup of coffee and taking it in to her, hoping that the extra heap of sugar he'd dumped into it would lift her spirits enough for her to not have a total break down.

And that was where they were now.

Mabel was cradling the cup of coffee in her sweatered hands, staring hard at the wall across from her as she leaned against her brother, who was trying to think of a way - any way - out of this mess.

Dipper chewed on his nails in the absence of a good pen. "We're going to get her back, Mabel." He assured, "But we have to be smart about it." Dipper said, taking his hand away from his mouth and wiping the residual spit on to his trouser legs. "We can't just knock on the front door and demand to have her back."

Mabel sniffed, "I know." She bit her lower lip, gazing up at her brother with wide, worried eyes, a small glimmer of hope gracing the deep brown. "So, what're we going to do? You have a plan, right?"

Dipper smirked, "Well that all depends - do you still have that grappling hook?"

Mabel's pouting lips stretched out in to a broad smile, and she grinned up at her brother, nodding frantically. Letting the empty coffee mug slip from her fingers and fall to the floor, she leapt off the sofa. She dashed out of the room, and Dipper heard her feet thundering up the stairs, faltering only once when Dipper assumed her sock slid against the wood. He shook his head as he let out a soft laugh.

Picking up the coffee mug and rising from the sofa, his back popped back into place with a number of clicks that was, frankly, alarming for a boy of his age. He moved through to the kitchen, dumping the mug in to the sink and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, tossing it lightly from one hand to another before sinking his teeth into it.

He wondered what would happen with Pacifica. He knew Mabel liked her, that much was obvious, though the way Mabel looked at the blonde wasdifferent, somehow, to the way she'd looked upon the others. But Pacifica? Mabel had told him time and time again that she had only ever had male suitors, though he doubted that the King would be inclined to allow his daughter to meet any females – they had an image to maintain, after all. Pacifica could like Mabel – his sister had been nothing but kind to the girl, and their personalities did seem to compliment each other – but what if she didn't? He didn't want Mabel to get hurt…

He shook his head, looking at the half eaten apple in his hand. If Mabel wanted anything with Pacifica, she would have to figure it out herself. He was not going to meddle in her personal life, just like Mabel had promised not to meddle in his, after some… lets call them awkward blind dates. And no matter what, he was not going to leave Pacifica at the mercy of both the King and Gideon.

Sighing, Dipper walked to the foot of the stairs and leaned against the bannister, calling up, "Mabel? You found it yet?"

"Yeah!" She yelled back down, and Dipper heard her run across the overhead floorboards to stand at her bedroom door. "I'm just getting into some more suitable clothes. I doubt I could break into the palace wearing a skirt and sweater!" She laughed then, and Dipper heard his sister's feet trot from one side of the ceiling to the other, where he knew from years of living with the girl that her not-sweater clothes were kept. He rolled his eyes – if Mabel wanted to play dress-up, he was not going to get killed by standing in her way

Dipper looked down at his own attire – black jeans and a blue and green flannel shirt. His jeans were a little too small, even after Mabel had made them a few inches bigger to leave him room to grow, and they clung to his legs like a second skin. His brown hiking boots were worn and muddy, and this time just a tad too big, but again they served their purpose, and that was good enough for him. His shirt had belonged to his Grunkle Ford, and while that was too big for him too, it was comfortable, so it wasn't too much of a concern.

Noticing that he was still holding the apple core in his hand, Dipper sighed and decided to throw it on the compost heap. He walked through the front door.

And into the kitchen.

He frowned, glancing behind him at the open back door and then in front of him at the kitchen. He shook his head, "That fridge must've done something to my brain," he muttered, as he walked back through the house and out the front door.

And again, he was back in the kitchen.

Eyebrows furrowing, Dipper took a different approach and walked through the back door.

Only to end up at the foot of the stairs.

"What the-?" Then a little louder, "Mabel!"

A second later the girl was bounding down the stairs, Grunkle Ford's brown coat billowing out behind her. She had on a black t-shirt over black jeans that hugged her legs, the trousers tucked in to black knee-high boots. The long brown coat flared out around her knees, it's light fabric swirling around her thighs with every step. Wrapped diagonally around her hips she had a black leather belt, a thigh sheath barely holding on to the grappling hook she'd stuffed into it attached to the belt.

"What do you think?" She asked merrily, jumping off the last stair with a twirl, her long coat slapping against her thighs as she did so. Her smile was bright as she struck a pose, placing her hands on her waist and grinning darkly, "Is this an outfit to take over the world in or what?"

Dipper breathed a startled gasp through his nose, panic making his heart beat faster as he was asked about fashion. "Uh… the black will help you blend in with the shadows?"

Mabel rolled her eyes. "What's this problem, broski?"

Dipper's expression became dire. "We can't leave."

Mabel's eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean we can't leave?" She asked, her hands falling away from her waist as her fingers thrummed against the sides of her thighs – a nervous habit.

Dipper realised that she had thought he meant that they weren't going for Pacifica, and his eyes blew wide as he tried to dispel the look of fear in her eyes. "No no no! I mean, we're still going to get Pacifica," he stated, and Mabel's shoulders relaxed in relief. "I mean that we physically cannot leave this house."

Eyebrows furrowing again, she wrapped a hand around Dipper's forearm and tugged him to the side, stepping through the front door. She disappeared as soon as her foot touched the other side of the doorframe, and Dipper deflated – he had hoped it had only been him affected by whatever the hell this was - that, or he was imagining the whole thing. Mabel reappeared through the door, a curious frown on her face. She dragged in a breath, eyebrows gracing her hairline as she said, "I see what you mean."

Dipper narrowed his eyes, hoisting himself up to sit on the key table next to the door. "I just don't see how this is possible," he mused, staring down at his swinging feet. "Unless…"

Dipper thought back to the clearing, thinking of the way the cave functioned and how there was no scientific way for it to do so. He remembered thinking that it might have something to do with magic – that Gideon had something to do with magic. But would he really go that far? Risk all that he had, for that?Gideon was the king's ward; he spent his life in the palace. It would only take one wandering servant to catch him practicing, and his life would be over. But then again, he was the king's ward – no one would believe a mere servant over his own word. If anything, his position in the palace would make it easier for him to practice magic.

"Dipper, hey!" Mabel yelled, clicking her fingers in front of Dipper's cloudy eyes. "Wake up!" She called, and Dipper blinked, swatting her waving hand away from his face. He raised an eyebrow at her and she levelled him with a focused stare, "Unless what, Dipper?"

"Gideon," Dipper stated, and the girl flinched, recoiling back a few steps. "Mabel, I could have sworn that he was using it earlier today." He took a deep breath, knowing what a heavy accusation was going to come next, "Magic. What if he-?"

"No." Mabel cut him off. She shook her head, taking solid steps backwards until she hit the table behind her, sinking down to perch on the edge. "Just… no, Dipper. Gideon is a buttface, and I would gladly push him into the bottomless pit without a second thought if given the opportunity, butMagic? I just don't think he's the type to go that far."

A high-pitched laughter resonated around the room. It cackled menacingly as a cloud of black smoke bubbled out from thin air before them, twisting and turning into a dark shape just above the foot of the stairs. "Then you need to think again, kid!"

"What the-?" Dipper mouthed to his sister.

"Wha-?" Mabel yelled back.

The dark form laughed, the writhing carving and moulding its edges until the shape was almost humanoid, the blackness splitting into colour as bright yellows and whites and browns replaced the cloud. With a pop, the last of the cloud diminished, and out of it stepped a man. "Heh heh! Name's Bill Cipher!" He said with a cheerful grin, his voice deeper than it had been when it had poured from the cloud, "Gideon sent me here to torment you until the end of time!"

Dipper and Mabel stared.

The man had dark skin, made to look darker by the bright yellow hair spilling down the side of his golden-freckled face, the thick blonde waves sticking up in all directions like perfectly styled bedhead. The loose curls were swept to the side, falling over one eye, but not completely enough to hide that unlike the visible golden one, this eye was black, the glowing blue outline of a triangle replacing an iris and pupil at the centre. Thick black lashes framed them, looking a little like dark eyeliner, and Dipper gulped when he realised that those eyes were focused on him.

Bill grinned, stepping quickly towards Dipper and leaning over the boy. His whole body pressed closer to the boy's than Dipper was really comfortable with, as the man stared at something just over Dipper's shoulder. "Oh, look!" Bill exclaimed, his hot breath ghosting over Dipper's ear and sending shivers down his spine. "An adorable family photo!" Bill moved away from Dipper, and the boy released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. The man smiled down at a photo of Mabel, Dipper and their Grunkle Stan, the three of them sitting in a boat and grinning widely at the camera.

And then he lobbed it against a wall. "Oops!"

Dipper rubbed his hand against his forehead, eyeing the man in front of him with suspicion. "The cold must have done more to my head than I thought," he muttered.

Mabel shook her head, "No, I see him too."

The man grinned, "So anyway!" He sat down on a table opposite Dipper's, crossing his legs and laying laced together fingers on one knee. "Where were you going before I got here?" He looked from Dipper to Mabel and back again, an expectant smile gracing his lips. "I mean, obviously I have to stop it, but that doesn't mean I can't be curious!"

Mabel gave him a once over, her eyes narrowing in on his as she slowly said, "We were going to rescue Pa-"

"Mabel!" Dipper cut her off quickly, hopping down from his table and darting across the room to stand beside her. "Don't tell him what we're planning! He might go tell Gideon," he whispered roughly into her ear.

Bill spluttered a laugh, "The runt with the pompadour? Not likely!"

Dipper looked at the man out of the corner of his eye. Obviously he had magic, and on top of that, he was in cahoots with Gideon. He could be the source of all the magic that Gideon apparently had access to, or he could be an addition to it. Either way, he and Mabel couldn't trust him. "We still can't trust him, Mabel." He voiced.

"Don't be so boring, Pine Tree!" Dipper curled his lip – pine tree? "I won't tell Gideon, okay? I promise."

"We're going to rescue Pacifica Northwest from the evil clutches of her father!" Mabel blurted, shooting the words out like a bullet from a gun, before Dipper could even think to stop her.

Bill raised an eyebrow, "The Princess?" He gave the two a once over, eyebrows furrowing when he noticed the similarities between them now that they were stood together – twins? That was never a good sign. "That's not gonna be easy, you know? Though, I could make it easy," Bill pulled his hand away from his chin as blue flames crawled around his fingers and slid down to the palm of his hand like a warm caress, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips, "if you'd like."

Dipper's eyes widened when he saw the fire, grabbing Mabel by the forearm and pulling her behind him on reflex. His eyes narrowed on the man, daring him to try anything.

"Oh wow!" Bill grinned, vaulting himself off the table and moving to circle the two almost predatorily. "The overbearing brother and the free spirit sister routine! Haven't seen that in a few millennia. Somehow it's even more annoying than I remember it!"

Dipper raised an eyebrow at 'a few millennia', spinning around along with the man to keep a firm barricade between him and his sister. "What are you?"

Bill bounced backwards a bit, leaning back on his heels to give Dipper an unsure stare, "I didn't tell you?" Dipper shook his head. "Oh! I must have forgot- I'm a genie, kid!"

Dipper raised a dubious eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "A genie." Bill didn't expect them to believe that, did he?

Apparently he did, and Mabel bought right into it. She grabbed Dipper's arm and swung herself around him, darting forwards so she was right in front of Bill, staring up at his impressive height with wonder in her eyes. "A genie?! The kind with wishes and stuff?"

Bill grinned, "The very same." He held up his hand, three fingers splayed out, a small blue flame hovering over each digit. "Three wishes! No resurrection, no making people fall in love and no wishing for more wishes."

Dipper frowned at that, eyeing over the triangular buttons on the man's waistcoat and the golden outline of a triangle hanging from his ear, partially hidden by his messy hair. Bill definitely had a thing for threes, and it reminded Dipper of all the triangles back at the cave – did Bill have something to do with that place?

"Cool!" Mabel grinned, grabbing one of Bill's wrists and inspecting the golden band wrapped around it with wide eyes. He frowned and pulled his hand back from her a little warily, and she didn't notice the look that flashed across his face. But Dipper did. "Can you turn my grappling hook pink?" She asked, pulling the launcher out of its holster and holding it out to him.

Bill grinned and poked the grey metal of the device, bright blue flames spreading out from his fingertip, sliding over the gunmetal grey and leaving it a bubble gum pink. Dipper's eyes blew wide as Mabel starred down at her improved grappling hook, mumbling to herself about how much better it would look with a coat of glitter. Bill smiled at his handiwork, "Odd thing to wish for, but who am I to judge?"

Dipper raised a finger in protest, "Uh," Bill's eyes slid away from Mabel and latched on to Dipper, smile folding itself into a smirk. "She didn't wish for that." Dipper said.

The smirk dropped off Bill's face, his lips parting and eyes narrowing in on Dipper. The boy gulped, and the genie burst out laughing. "I like you kid! Wow, that has not happened before!" He sobered up after a few seconds, eyes burning holes into Dipper as he raised a finger to point at him, "But no more freebies, okay?"

Dipper breathed a laugh, "Right." He looked over Bill's shoulder at his sister, still staring down at her pink grappling hook with buckets full of joy in her eyes – it sure didn't look like Bill was trying to torment them. It almost looked like he was trying to win them over – especially with Mabel's free wish. "So, uh…" Dipper started, staring down at his toes, "What did Gideon wish for you to do? Exactly?"

Bill beamed, "To make your lives miserable until the end of time."

Dipper raised an eyebrow, remembering something he saw scrawled across a plaque back in the cave. "But… time isn't real." He bit his lip, hoping that he was right and that Bill really did have something to do with that place.

Bill eyed him for a second, then grinned, surprised that the kid had managed to figure out the loophole fast. He had to find out who told him that time wasn't real, though – he wasn't supposed to know that. "I've got to give it to you, Pine Tree – you're smarter than you look!"

A smile twitched at Dipper's lips, but it faded the second Bill's grin fell down into a sombre frown, "Which is exactly why you should know that you and the glitter fairly over there-" he inclined his head to Mabel "-cannot go for that Princess tonight." Dipper frowned at his sister, who was now pointing her hook at things and making gun sounds as she pretended to fire it at things. "You're going to fail," Bill warned.

Dipper cast a glance at Mabel, and she caught his eye, their Grunkle's signature mischievous gleam running through it. Recognising the look, she stood slowly, clipping her grappling hook back into its sheath and walking over to her brother. "So, when should we go?" Dipper asked.

Bill smirked, the fire once again beginning to flourish at his fingertips and crawl up his arm, "Why don't you wish for me to tell you?"

Dipper glanced at Mabel, and she bit her lip, the look in her eyes saying exactly what Dipper was hoping to hear: showtime. Dipper frowned, drawling, "Hm… I don't know…"

Mabel picked up where he left off, "I mean, you can't be that great a genie-"

Dipper turned on his heel, walking to the other side of his sister as he explained, "You can't even uphold a simple wish like making us miserable for the rest of our lives."

"Honestly, I think we'd be better off going to rescue Pacifica our way." Mabel finished, circling back around her brother while she nodded a little condescendingly, bowing her head so that her hair hid the smile growing on her face.

Bill eyed the two, disbelief and a dash of rage sparking behind his golden eye. "I'm sorry," he began, the fire fizzling away from his fingers as he chuckled darkly to himself, his head bowing down as the younger of the twins' eyes stayed focused on him. His gaze flashed back up to Dipper, trapping him with his glare. "What." That syllable echoed around the room, and Dipper forced himself not to flinch away from it.

Dipper forced back any thoughts of regret in his head when he was the enraged look in the other man's eye. "Thanks," Dipper said, holding Bill's stare, his voice thankfully a lot stronger than he expected it to be, "But no thanks."

Bill laughed again, the deep sound making Dipper want to shrink back inside of himself. He held his ground. "You… doubt, my power?" Bill asked, almost silently, his hair and clothes tingeing red and his smile stretching and twisting up into an inhuman grin.

Two things happened at once; Dipper shrugged nonchalantly, and he realised that that was the wrong thing to do.

Bill's fire exploded around him, cool blue flickering to an angry red as he scowled at Dipper, thankfully focusing all his rage on the boy rather than his sister. "Fine!" He growled, raising a hand and allowing dark red flames to rise up from it, leaving two small slips of card in his palm. He took a few steps towards Dipper and the boy backed up a step, trying to escape the heat of the flames before he realised that there was none. "Here," Bill growled, shoving the papers against Dipper's chest and knocking the boy back a step. Dipper frowned down at the papers, briefly registering the words 'ball' and 'princess' before two fingers were shoved under his chin, yanking his head upwards so that he was staring Bill in the eyes, the other's nose barely an inch from his own. "A party is being thrown to celebrate the return of the princess," he explained, his booming voice wrapping around Dipper's whole body, holding him in place. "If you sneak in with the other guests, no one will suspect a thing!"

Dipper blinked a few times, staring up at the genie with a dumb look before his open mouth morphed itself into a small smile – he hadn't expected that to work so well. "Whoa, thanks," Dipper said, tugging his chin out of the genies grasp and side stepping him, handing one of the invitations to a worried looking Mabel and leaving the genie frozen in his place. "I never doubted you for a second," he finished, smiling at Mabel and squeezing her shoulder, reassuring her that he was all right.

Every trace of red diminished from the genies body in a flash, and he turned slowly, staring slack-jawed at a smug looking Dipper. "You never…?" He started dumbly, trailing off with a shake of his head. When he looked back up, he had an eyebrow raised, the beginnings of a crooked smile tugging at one corner of his lips. "You played me."

Dipper and Mabel grinned, tapping their knuckles together as Dipper said, "Like a drum."

"Huh. "A smirk slid across Bill's face, "I don't know whether to be irritated or impressed."

Dipper shrugged, not taking his eyes off the white and gold card in his hands as he studied to intricate lettering. "Be both."

Bill narrowed his eyes at the boy – he was… interesting."I think I will," he replied, ignoring the way his shackles burned against his wrists.

.

. .

Pacifica sighed, leaning against the stone railing lining the balcony connected to her bedroom. Beneath her, servants were hurriedly rushing around the courtyard, positioning vases full of flowers and plates full of food everywhere they could think to place them. One particular maid caught her eye, stringing a bundle of fairy lights up in a tree and scurrying to skip across the path to drape them over another tree, connecting them like constellations.

Her chin lay gently in her gloved hand as she watched what went on below her, but her mind couldn't seem to focus on anything for too long before it strayed back to them. She had been so surprised when Mabel had been kind to her and Dipper had protected her. It had been the first time in her life that she had felt human, like a real person capable of real emotion. She had felt wanted, protected, cared for - loved.

But that was all over now. That small taste she'd had of what life would be like were she not shackled to her status, the flickering simulation that she'd give anything to relive, was gone. And all because of Gideon.

After Mabel and Dipper had gone away with him, leaving her on the armchair with nothing but a blanket and a book and a big fat pig named Waddles to keep her company, she had felt safe. So safe and warm under that frail blanket, thinner even than half of her summer outfits but still managing to be warmer, that when it was ripped away from her shaking fingers she'd almost cried.

The guards that stormed into the house were quick to grab her and drag her away, their strong strides immune to her panicked insistence that she was under no real threat there. That she had wanted to be there, even. Not one of those guards listened to her as she begged to be set free, to be sent back, as she promised to pay them handsomely if they could just forget that they'd ever seen her there.

Half way through the long walk back to the palace, her legs gave out and her tears broke loose, running down her face and she desperately scrubbed them away. The guards wasted no time in scooping her up, carrying her the rest of the way to her prison. When they'd made it back to the palace, the guards spouted some nonsense about a kidnapping, and Pacifica's father had cupped her cheek in the most affectionate gesture he'd ever shown the girl, but his warmth was still nothing compared to the warmth and gentleness of the girl she'd been with not even two hours ago.

As she was carried to her room, her back still shuddering with sobs even though the tears had stopped falling what felt like years ago, the only thing on her mind was the warm looks Mabel gave her as they spoke. She replayed every second she spent with the girl in her mind, over and over again until it was ingrained in her very soul, and she fought back another bout of tears when she realised that she would never have something like that again.

She would be eighteen in two months, and when that fateful day came, she would be sold to the highest bidder.

She bit her lip, clamping her eyes shut as another wave of tears threatened to spill down her face. Gideon. It was his fault that all of this had happened to her. If he hadn't told the guards where to look, she would still be at the twins' run down shack right now, the warmest she'd ever been. How did he even know where she was? She shook her head, no. That was not what her mind should be dwelling on right now. She should be thinking of how she was going to escape again. Now that the number of guards surrounding the palace had doubled, it would be harder, but she could-

She could always-

"Well, well, well," a voice greeted snidely, accompanied by the tip-tap of expensive shoes against a marble floor. "If it isn't our resident runaway princess!"

Pacifica's gloved hands curled into fists as she suppressed a shudder at the voice, her dress swirling around her legs and she spun on him. "Gideon!"

Gideon looked away from the water globe in his hand, the evil glint in his eye contradicting his sweet, dimpled smile. He placed the globe back on its shelf and crossed the room, taking Pacifica's hands in his own and appraising her. "My, my! Don't you look just precious."

Pacifica snatched her hands away from him, her skin crawling at his close proximity. "What's to stop me from going to my father and telling himexactly what you've been doing?" She growled.

Gideon's smile faltered as his eyes slid away from the girl's, moving to stare at the few stars dotting the early evening sky. "Why, I don't know!" He said, bringing a hand up to his cheek as he faked his innocent cluelessness, the act that she used to buy into so easily. His voice turned venomous as he said, "Maybe the thought of your dear little Mabel Pines?"

Pacifica's eyes grew wide, her jaw tightening with rage as the girl's name slipped out of Gideon's slimy lips, and he looked back at the princess just in time to catch it. He giggled, pointing at her with a stubby finger. "I saw that!"

Pacifica's eyebrows furrowed, "What're you-?"

"I also saw the way you were lookin' at her back at the shack!" Pacifica raised an eyebrow, and Gideon was baring his teeth through that fake smile again, "Oh don't try to hide it, honey! You like her - nothin' wrong with that!"

Pacifica's heart thrummed in her chest and she blanched, her lips falling apart to say something in her defence only to be met with a silent tongue.

"So," Gideon continued, stepping closer to Pacifica than he already was, "if you tell your daddy about me, I'm gonna have to tell him about you, and then not only would you never see dear, sweet Mabel Pines again, you'll never see the light of day again, either!" He leaned away from Pacifica, minty breath sliding over her skin as he breathed a sigh, "So, we understand each other?"

Pacifica gulped, her head nodding of its own volition.

"Well, isn't that just dandy!" Gideon turned on his heel, his cologne stinging Pacifica's nose when she inhaled sharply. She waited until he was at the door and calling "Enjoy the party," over his shoulder, before she let the first tear spill down her cheek – and it wasn't from the cologne.

She shook her head again – no! She was Pacifica Northwest. There was nothing that Gideon could do to keep her caged up in these walls. Nothing.She swiped a finger under her eye, collecting the moisture before it had time to create a track, and she crossed the room. If Gideon Gleeful thought he could break her, could beat her at this game, he had another thing coming – because Northwests. Never. Lose.

Pacifica floated down the stairs, her hand on the bannister trailing behind her as she made her way to the ballroom at the centre of the palace. There were already a few guests there, and more were waiting at the top of the grand entrance, yet to be announced. As soon as she stepped into the room, she was swarmed with people just itching to meet her, and she greeted them all politely, her princess perfect fake smile never leaving her lips.

After she was done with the older men, she moved on to the younger ones, flashing a small smile at her father, who had been watching the whole thing, as she pretended to enjoy their company. She danced with a few of them, getting closer and closer to the door with every waltz, until eventually she made it. Slipping through the doorway while she was sure her father was distracted, she turned on her heel and legged it up the stairs, barely managing to not stand on the hem of her skirt with every step.

When she made it out to the balcony, she breathed out a heavy sigh, leaning her back against the door to slam it shut. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she crossed the balcony, the cold night air cooling her heated skin as she took a seat upon the balcony railing. Her ears were ringing, and she had no idea how loud the music had been. So loud, even, that for a second the voices of the arriving guests below her were but a whisper. That was, until her ears adjusted.

She peeked below her feet, gripping on to the stone railing so that the vertigo from the height didn't send her hurtling forward and plummeting down. She heard her name spoken a few times, always in a hushed tone, like her very existence was a swear word only to be whispered under one's breath.

She scanned over the people, most of which she recognised from other formal events. After a while, the men all grew to look the same, with their slicked back hair and black suits, stiff upper lips and weak chins. But the girls! The girls were always a sight to behold, each of them with a daring dress, plummeting necklines or shortly cut skirts and bright colours complimenting their skin and hair colour. Every girl was different, and never was the same dress seen twice.

She smiled a little sadly as she saw the way the girls beamed at each other, laughing and talking hurriedly, as if everything they said had to be shot out into the world in a spitfire blast, so fast that if you blinked, you'd miss it. Secrets were whispered and jokes were yelled and snide remarks were muttered and later laughed at – it was glorious! As Pacifica continued to marvel at the ladies appearing through the wrought iron gate at the bottom of the lane, a flash of brilliant blue caught her eye, and her gaze shot to a girl halfway up the path. Her hair was falling down around her shoulders in tremulous brown curls, her arm wrapped around that of a boy just a few centimetres shorter than she. Her dress was the same blue as the midday sky, pulled tight at the waist with a silver ribbon and cascading down her long legs in a waterfall of flowing blue fabric.

For a moment, Pacifica was livid. No one was allowed to wear blue to the parties thrown in her honour, because that was her colour. She stared down at the dress, eyes narrowing in on the girl wearing it. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had looked awful on her, but with her willowy arms and long legs it simply couldn't have looked more divine. She scowled at the girl, fuming that she either didn't know or didn't care that she was not permitted to wear blue on this night. A fierce snarl rose in her throat.

Only to die on her lips. Her gaze travelled upwards, past a sweetheart neckline, past a small silver pendant, and latching on to a perfectly crooked, deliriously happy smile.

Mabel Pines.