Princes in Darkness

Author's notes: While alternate realities are still hot, here's my stab at it. This is a Kingdom Hearts fanfic set in a parallel multiverse in which the bad guys have largely won. And it's largely going to fall on the shoulders of the princes. Plus the Riku Replica that sacrificed himself at the end of 3 for Namine. I will be delving into other aspects of the series, such as Joshua from The World Ends With You. Speculation on what happens when a Princess of Hearts' heart falls to darkness. As well as touching on some worlds that you probably didn't know even WERE Disney properties! This will also be a chance for me to address some writing and character development missteps I have seen in the past decade of Disney. Enjoy!

Darkness reigned across an ocean of worlds. A shadowy reflection of another plain radiant with light. In the reflection, the princesses of heart were lost in darkness or else consumed in despair. The worlds steeped in an inky miasma. The self-proclaimed Mistress of all Evil oversaw her empire of misery with sadistic glee. Smirking with malice from the upper-most spire of her stronghold atop the Forbidden Mountain, she could almost find peace. But there mere thought of it sickened her. Her minions and spies fed her constant reports of runaway sparks of love, hope, and kindness. To which she quickly plotted to snuff it out. Even in triumph, Maleficent went on in her miserable obsession. She would never know peace, but the thrill of her eternal conflict kept her entertained.

The familiar caw of her feathered pet snapped her out of her self-indulgent trance. The raven swooped down upon the parapet and cawed it's message. Maleficent's powers enabled her to understand; another world was soon to fall. The armies of the Southern Isles had been beaten back to their capital city.

"Those poor, simple, fools," Maleficent chuckled. Their resistance was as futile as it was stupid! The raven cawed a few more times. "Hans Westergaard? That troublesome prince! But his courage and spirit will only get him so far," she rolled her eyes at the arrogance of young men. Prince Philip had been just like him once, not so much anymore. But her face soon turned sour at memories of the thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles. Oh how she had tried to poison his heart over the years. Her constant efforts to pit the brothers against each other and sow seeds of favoritism in the king and queen had all ended in failure. Alas even the youngest of the princes proved pure of heart. Not that it did him any good. Maleficent giggled darkly.

"Come, my pet," she beckoned the bird towards the head of her staff. The raven obliged, took it's habitual perch and silently accompanied her down the spiraling stairs. They made their way to the great hall, where her guest Jaffar was seated comfortably; in her chair, as was his annoying custom. Maleficent could hear his obnoxious hysterical laughs from the stairway. The short, stubby figure of the former-sultan of Agribah was dressed in a grotesque jester's costume. Forced to dance on string dangling mystically above. The living puppet had a dancing partner, dressed in an identical costume but with cloth obscuring his face. Maleficent smirked at her faithful lieutenant, standing with her arms crossed to the right of her throne. Even dressed in a skin-tight black cloth head-to-toe, Lady Laide's supple features were tense. She loathed and despised all men, especially the former-sultan's partner. Enjoying the pairs misery was the only thing keeping her from swinging her wooden club in Jaffar's face.

Soon Jaffar's pet parrot swooped over to gleefully stuff crackers in the former-sultan's mouth. Some childish revenge. Jaffar laughed all the louder, hadn't even noticed Maleficent as she entered the hall. Standing stoically at the thrones left stood the scantily-clad former-princess Jasmine. Her jet-black hair tied back in a ponytail, a silver tray with a wine-filled goblet held steadily in her hands. She said nothing and her face showed no emotion at her father's humiliation. But her eyes were darkened with despair. A single tear crept down her cheek as Maleficent approached. Yes, such beautiful misery! Watching the ones who thought themselves strong stand stubbornly, only for their pain to seep through brought a smile to the horned enchantress' face.

So lifted were her spirits that she contained her temper and merely struck the ground sharply with the bottom of her staff. Jaffar's laughter ended in an instant. He slunk from her throne with the fluid motion of a serpent. Bowing his head his slimy voice took on a soothingly submissive note. "A thousand pardons, my mistress. Alas my journey has been arduous and there is but one chair in this chamber."

"The difficulties of your old age are not my concern," Maleficent snapped as she took her seat. "My concern is stamping out this pathetic light once and for all!"

"My life is but to serve, my mistress," Jaffar feigned humility with practiced bravado. With a vicious snap of his fingers, Jasmine moved to his side. "But surely this should be a time of jubilation! The Southern Isles shall soon fall, that rodent king and his queen are tucked away in one of your dungeons, our mutual friend Ursula has Atlantica and is toying with the seas as we speak, and that Gothel woman of yours has a source of eternal youth and life locked in one of the Horned King's cells. So I'm afraid the cause of your most defective mood is yet a mystery to me."

Maleficent sneered. "I can assure you the only defect to my mood is the sight of your laziness! Here you are celebrating in MY chamber while your victory is yet incomplete!" Jaffar looked up in puzzlement. The first he had met her gaze so far. "You know perfectly well there is but ONE loose end that needs be tied on your front!"

Jaffar rolled his eyes. "But, my mistress, surely the diamond in the rough is dead! No one could have survived that little ride!" Much as Maleficent relished the sight of Aladdin's terrifying fate, heralded into the air in a palace tower. It's inevitable impact in the frigid mountains of the Hindu Kush most likely crushed his bones. If not the cold would surely have killed him. Yet no body was discovered in the wrecked remains of the tower. Nor found frozen in the frigid mountain passes. "Even our dear...princess...has long since given up hope," Jaffar went on, with a sadistic pause and sideways glance to his captive maiden. Her face still frozen in blank acceptance of her new circumstance.

"Assumptions are what turns victories into defeats!" Maleficent snapped. "You may have your respite once you've produced a corpse. NOT BEFORE!" she thundered definitively.

Jaffar bowed his head in submission. "Of course, my mistress. It certainly can do no harm to be thorough." Maleficent cringed at his needless vote of approval. She barely stopped herself from reminding him she wasn't asking. "But I would make but one request?" His mistress looked at him in silence. "My journey has been most arduous might I be privileged a night's stay? My servants would also benefit a night's sleep," he finished, coiling his hand around Jasmine's waist. His spindly fingers tantalizing at her belly and the waist-line of her silk slacks. Despite her own distaste for such things, Maleficent smirked darkly at captive princess' shudder of revulsion. She could almost feel sorry for her if her misery weren't so sweet.

"You may," she grunted. "Now be off with you! And take your pet and your clown with you!"

"As you command, my mistress. And many thanks for your hospitality," he bowed low and edged backwards in reverse until he felt he had submitted enough to turn and walk away. Jasmine dully shuffling along in his arm. Iago fluttered over to perch atop Jaffar's cobra-shaped staff. Magic levitated the former-sultan to follow behind them. The remaining jester went on dancing in numb obedience.

"If you've had your fill, Laide, that dullard father of yours would be of more use in the workshop," Maleficent sighed. As hair-brained and absent-minded as the chubby old man was, he was surprisingly good with machines and mechanics. Laide turned to her mistress. Hazel eyes gazed out of cloth eye-holes to lock with Maleficent's in defiance. Burning yellow eyes stared back unmoved for several seconds before Laide snapped her fingers for the pig-men guards to approach and drag the old man away. Maleficent nodded. "Come with me, my dear Lieutenant. There is still much to do." The Mistress of all Evil stood and strode slowly to her private chamber, Lady Laide followed in silence. Even as her captive father groaned her former-name in whimpers in the pig-men troops' grasps.

...

On a desolate ridge, about a mile from the Forbidden Mountain, stood a strange figure. The teenaged boy looked up at Maleficent's stronghold with defiance. His long locks of blonde hair hung loose down to his shoulders. To any ordinary human living in that world his clothes would seem as outlandish as his very presence on that lonely ridge. A light-gray suit shirt, blue denim jeans, and tennis shoes. Unfazed by the frigid mountain air and the ceaseless thunderstorm shaking the rocky peaks to their very foundations. The young man's name was Joshua. And despite his youthful looks, and frail frame, he stood unshaken by the storm or the seemingly impregnable fortress above him.

"So the darkness really thinks it's won," Joshua uttered allowed. Thunder cracked loudly. A mischievous smirk curved his mouth. "But the song isn't over until the Composer says so," he said. The smirk remained as he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

…

Prince Philip awoke to a loud snap. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as they adjusted to the damp dimness of his cell. Empty as it had been for weeks. The last living thing he had seen was that horned fiend, Maleficent. Mocking him with her designs on his future. Imprisonment for decades only to be released as an aged old wretch. His true love, Princess Aurora, imprisoned in her own palace and doomed to ageless sleep. For days he fought at his chains. He cursed and swore in defiance at his guards. He bellowed threats in vain at the dark mistress of the castle. Her maniacal laughter echoed through the shadows at all hours! In time despair took him. But something about that snapping sound, which jarred him from blissful oblivion, called to him. Snapped him out of the misery of morbid indifference. As if something was summoning him. Beckoning him with something he could almost mistake for hope.

His chains rattled as he laboriously arose to his feet. Again he scanned the room, still nothing seemed out of place. He took a tentative step forward. Two metallic snaps clanged as the irons at his wrists fell off, as if the locks had been undone in his sleep! Blinking and gasping in surprise, the prince held his wrists up to his eyes in shock. Felt almost naked without them. Shaking the shock from his head, he began to massage his hands and arms, soothing away the phantom pain. Could that have been the snapping sound that roused him? How could it have been? No one was there!

The sheer scope of this miracle suddenly dawned on Philip and he dismissed all questions and strode towards the cell door. The passageway outside was silent, the roving guards must be in a lazy mood. Good! With tepid caution, Philip tried the door. Just to gauge it's strength. He knew he'd have a time at breaking it open. Of course the guards would hear and come running. But death at the tip of their spears seemed mercy compared with one more minute in that cursed cell!

Philip couldn't contain a gasp of surprise as the cell door swung wide open with a single thrust. The door was unlocked! How could this be? A wave of misery washed over the prince. It was all just too good to be true. This had to be a trick! Some sick game by that wretched woman, if the vile creature could even be called a woman! Would he venture forth only to be ambushed, beaten, tortured, humiliated? Subject once again Maleficent's mockery? Philip tightened his fists into solid boulders of rage and resolved to play along. If this was a trap, she would not find him easy prey as she had at the cottage in the glade. If it truly were the miracle it seemed, the prince would not waste it!

Outside the cell, the corridor was drenched in gloom. Shadows in both directions. Philip followed the upward path of the stairs. He smirked at an old saying he'd grown up with; something about only being able to go upwards once you've reached the bottom. He had no weapon, only his fists and weeks worth of built-up rage. He would claw his way out of that cursed castle if it was the last thing he ever did! Or die trying.

"Who's there? You're not a guard?" a squeaky voice called out softly from the barred windows of a cell as he passed by. Philip tensed, sure a guard would hear the commotion. He pressed his chest against the cell door and hissed a shushing sound. "Philip? Prince Philip?" the voiced asked hopefully. The prince squinted to see the form of, of all things, a mouse! One about the size of a human child. It's wide-eyes brightened with hope. Round ears seemed to perk up. Chains rattled as it leapt to it's feet and brought up it's arms in excitement. The chains snagged the little figure as it reached the end their reach.

"How do you know my name?" Philip gasped, almost demanding.

"I know a lot more than that! I know you are in love with Princess Aurora, and that you've been held here for weeks. You might not believe this but I'm a king of a far away world! And apprentice to a great sorcerer who oversees all the worlds and safeguard the light they all share!" Philip blinked in disbelief and fought the urge to laugh at the thought of a mouse-king and wizards from other worlds. He inwardly snickered at his own foolishness, as if evil enchantresses and warrior pig-men only existed in stories!

"I take it my world wasn't much of a priority," Philip managed a bitter laugh. The mouse-king's eyes lowered in sadness. Philip felt a twinge of guilt, like he had wrongly snapped at a child.

"It's true, things have gone very wrong," the mouse sighed. "Some things we could have done differently, others maybe not. All I know is, somehow, you've managed to escape your cell. Right now you're our best hope! Not only for your world but all worlds!"

"I WILL escape!" Philip said firmly. "I'll get out and I'll come back with an army of knights!"

The mouse shook his head sadly. "It's no use, even all the armies of this world would be no match for Maleficent. And she has allies, powerful witches and warlocks from other worlds! You have to escape, but not to your home. Despite Maleficent's power, I have managed to hide this last bit of magic," he paused to open his palms. A flash of majestic light and a sheet of paper appeared in his hand. Philip blinked as the mouse folded the paper into a thin triangle and lightly thrust it towards the cell window. The prince instinctively reach into the cell to catch the gliding paper. "It's a transportation spell. It won't work inside this castle. You MUST escape. And once you are clear of the castle, hold the paper high and shout the word 'Traverse Town,' you'll find friends there. Find more princes like you, raise an army, reignite the lights in the Princesses of Heart!" Philip took in the mouse's instructions stoic silence before tucking the letter away in his pocket. "Go! Now! Before the guards start to rove again!" the mouse snapped softly.

"One question though," Philip ventured, the mouse nodded. "What is your name?" A warm smile curved the mouse's mouth upwards.

"It's Mickey. Mickey Mouse."

"I'll come back for you, King Mouse. I promise," Philip said with a firm smile.

"Never mind the 'king', just plain Mickey will do," Mickey chuckled. Wasting no more time, Philip turned and climbed the stairwell with renewed vigor. Finally he had direction. Not just a desperate escape into a world of uncertainty, but at least the beginnings of a plan. He would get to this 'Traverse Town' and find Mickey's friends. A wave of questions flooding his mind. Could he trust Mickey? What 'friends' could he hope to find, more talking mice? How was he supposed to raise an army? Or reach other worlds and find their princes? He shook his head and forced silence in his mind. One problem at a time!

As if on cue, he reached the top of the stairs and found two more problems. Pig-men, two of them standing guard at the opening into a hallway. Both dressed in armor and fast asleep standing up. The spears in their hands propping them up as their snorting snores echoed down the hallway. What to do? Try to sneak past and they might wake up and give the alarm. A scant diet and lack of mobility had already diminished the prince's once-lean muscles. Uncertain whether the thick, pointed ears beneath their helmets were just for show or not, Philip tensed his body, balled his fists and leapt into action.

He had to stoop slightly to slip his arm under the chin of the left guard. Tightening it like a snake around the enemy's throat and forcing the air from it's lungs with a violent squeeze. No sooner had the pig-man gasped then the prince shifted his weight and snapped it's neck. The body went limp in his arms and the right guard snorted awake. Wasting no time, Philip snatched the spear from the dead guard's grasp and let the body fall as he spun around to bury the spear-tip in the other guard's throat. A whisper of a gasp and the right guard slid to the floor.

Philip straightened himself and gripped the looted spear in both hands. Now he had a weapon! He shook the brief feeling of invulnerability from his head, along with any notion of taking on Maleficent and her minions single-handed. Dredging his memory, he made his way down the corridor. Largely unchanged since the night the pig-men had first dragged him through. He tread as lightly as he could, so as not to alert more guard with footsteps. Soon he made his way to the great hall and breathed as sigh of relief that it was empty. He silently slipped past Maleficent's empty throne to the corridor on the other side of the circular chamber.

The passageway emptied into the castle courtyard. Philip slunk to the shadows against the wall at the sight of roving guards up on the walls. He breathed easy as he realized they were focused on the outer perimeter, not the inner yard. The ugly fools didn't figure there would ever be an escape. With a bitter smirk, Philip cautiously crept onward. He reached an open gate, leading out into the main compound. But flattened himself against the wall just inside the mouth of the gate as he heard the stop of approaching footsteps. He held his breath as a column of about twenty armed pig-men marched past him into the inner courtyard. Their stomps and grunts in cadence muffled his hurried footsteps as he rushed out into the compound. Only to sigh in despair at the closed main gate.

Philip quickly shook defeatist thoughts from his mind and scanned the walls for stairs. He spotted them off to the side of the gate and made his way unopposed up the outer wall. As he neared the top of the stairs he heard footsteps and went almost flat on the stairs. The shadow of a guard stomped by with snorting grunts. A roving guard. Once out of earshot Philip emerged and craned his head over the edge of the wall, and very quickly wished he hadn't. It was a sheer cliff! The foundation of the wall was etched into the very mountain side! No soft ground to land on as far as the eyes could clearly see.

With a grunted curse Philip turned to the gate. Maybe he could find a way to raise the gate and lower the drawbridge. He froze at the faint sound of footsteps behind him. A feral cry went up as his assailant deduced discovery. Philip spun to bring up his spear just in time to block the swing of a wooden club. A thin, nimble figure in black hissed in disgust. Hazel eyes glared through eye-holes in some cloth mask pulled over the attacker's face. Lightning flashed and Philip blinked as he recognized feminine features. The woman leapt backwards and brought up her club for another swing. Again he blocked it, but the staff of the spear creaked at the impact. Philip thrust his weight forward, sending the woman stumbling back. He readied himself to thrust at her heart, but stopped short. Could he kill a woman? Even one of Maleficent's minions?

The black-clade woman wasted no time questioning her own abilities to kill him. Springing back at him with another swing. This time the spear gave way, splintered in two. Philip quickly grasped her wrists and summoned all his strength holding her back. In his weakened state, they were about equal in brute force. Her true strength was in speed and agility.

"Don't do this!" Philip gasped, almost begging. His gentle brown eyes met her sharp hazels. "I don't want to hurt you!" The masked woman blinked, gazing upon him with something like recognition. Though Philip was sure he'd recognize those eyes if he'd seen them before. With a violent shake of her head, the woman screeched the cry of some mythical monster.

"GUARDS!" her voice echoed in the frigid air. With a grunt of rage Philip put all his strength into a forward thrust, toppling his opponent over and taking off at a dead run. Second later the woman was up and screaming again. He glanced back to see her sprinting after him. Soon the guard would be upon them! And now he had no weapon.

Suddenly Philip remembered the paper in his pocket. His eyes widened as Mickey's words rang in his ears, "once you are clear of the castle," the little mouse had said. A gaggle of guards emerged from the tower ahead of him, and the prince knew what he had to do. He tore the folded paper from his pocket, held it high, and with a deep breath he straddled the palisade and leapt from the castle wall.

The sheer, exhilaration of the fall forced a scream from his mouth as he plummeted. The in instants the masonry of the castle walls were out of sight and the jagged, rocky bottom of the peak rushed to meet him. With his last gasp of breath he hissed "TRAVERSE TOWN!"

…

With a blinding flash of light, the falling figure vanished. Mere instants before he would have struck the ground. On a cliff-side above, but below Maleficent's castle, Joshua smirked. "Well done, Prince Philip," he said. Otherworldly thunder roared from the castle above. Joshua chuckled, "took her long enough to figure it out! She's getting sloppy." He turned to casually stride away. "Don't worry, Philip. You'll get those friends Mickey promised. And more," he said before vanishing in a flash of light.

...