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shewhowantsmouseears · 7 years ago

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The Last Straw, 2

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and Blueshifted!

Are you any closer to solving the mystery or just as confused as ever? I'm pleased either way.

Summary: When the seamstress is given an impossible task, all hope seems lost. Help comes from the most unusual of places - but will she be able to remember it?

The sun was starting to set, but still far from when anyone could say night had truly fallen. Donald returned home to find his sister working on Clarabelle's dress, and when she asked how his day had been, he skipped over the part where he told Pete an outlandish lie. The two began to set up dinner, with Donald loudly grumbling how much hungrier they'd be the next few days because someone felt a complete stranger deserved to eat more than her own big brother. Minnie apologized but she wasn't entirely sorry, for she was happy that someone less fortunate than her had been helped. Donald huffed, but in the end all he could do was continue grumbling. Asking Minnie to change her kind nature was like asking her to change her black fur, both an impossibility. It was a wonderful, and at times aggravating, part of her.

And if it weren't for the lack of eggs, Minnie would have forgotten the incident altogether. She could recall the rest of the day perfectly, but those few minutes with Clarabelle were getting dimmer by the hour. She couldn't recall the color of the old man's cloak, nor the sound of his voice, nor even if he'd said more than two words to her. It was rather frightening the more she thought about it, or at least the more she tried to think about it. She was about to ask Donald's advice about this, when a knock sounded at the front door.

Minnie turned to the door, surprised. It wasn't entirely too late to have a sewing situation that required her steady hand, but customers had been so few and far between that it was still a shock. “My goodness. Do you think it's Clarabelle picking up her dress already?”

Donald lightly gave his sister a shove on the shoulders. “Maybe it's the old guy and he wants our bread, our milk, and your hand in marriage.” Minnie gave him an annoyed look, but Donald grinned, mentally promising this would be the last of the teasing. Minnie headed for the door, and Donald decided to follow in case it really was Clarabelle – maybe he could finagle more eggs from her.

But when Minnie opened the door, Clarabelle wasn't on the other side. Instead, there stood Pete in all of his large, metal glory, peering down at the siblings. Donald squinted. “What, are you door-to-door bullying now?”

“Donald, please,” Minnie lightly chastised, before properly curtsying. “Good evening, Captain Pete. It's an honor to have you here. What can I do for you?” She gave another classically sweet smile that melted many cold hearts.

It might've melted Pete's too, but his job meant more to him than a warm heart. Still, having someone give him real respect made him hesitate before he spoke. “You might wanna ask your big brother about that,” he said before jabbing a thumb behind him. “I'm here to announce the King, and to get you started on your task.”

Donald instantly broke out in a cold sweat while Minnie blinked rapidly. As Pete went on to announce Mortimer, which involved a short speech about his lineage and the power he had, Minnie slowly looked at Donald, her incredulous expression turning to one of suspicion, then anger. Donald refused to meet her eyes. With white feathers, it was difficult to tell he was paling, but he was. Surely this was about something else. Surely Pete hadn't believed that stupid fib. Surely life didn't hate him that much.

When Pete finished, he clapped once. “Okay, I'll be right back, don't move a muscle!” He then shuffled off to the carriage that both siblings could see now, lavishly adorned with jewels and gold, and half a dozen guards surrounding it. As Pete began to pull something out of the carriage, Minnie took a deep breath.

“Donald.”

“Yes, Minnie?”

“You lied, didn't you?”

“...Yes, Minnie.”

To add to Donald's horror and Minnie's confusion, Pete was carrying back a large bale of straw, and walking behind him was the grand King himself. He was smiling brightly, arching his back to give off an air of superiority that only served to give the impression that he had a spine injury. The guardsmen began to surround the house, thick armor hiding reluctant faces. Pete roughly shoved his way into the house, splitting up the duo. “Comin' through!” He only stopped once he was in what he assumed was Minnie's room, dropping the hay in front of the bed.

Minnie scrambled to Donald's side, yanking him by the collar. “What. Did. You. Dooo?”

“I can explain!” Donald flailed, but now the King was entering the house, and on some odd instinct, he drew Minnie close and behind him, protecting her. He swallowed hard. “Uh, Your Highness! This is an honor! A very, very weird honor.”

Mortimer looked down upon his subjects, one arm holding the other as he stroked his bare chin. His father had constantly done the same action whenever he was about to give an order, but the previous king had a beard, and Mortimer didn't, which made this action look less intimidating and more silly. The stable hand he barely recognized, having only a passing notion of what each servant looked like. But the girl he knew, he absolutely knew her, though he couldn't say why he knew her more than he knew the brother. By all logic, he would have seen her less than he saw Donald.

She was even prettier close up, with big beautiful eyes and pert lips and a delicate figure he wanted to seize with his own hands. Minnie stayed close to Donald, holding a fistful of his shirt, trying to think positively about the situation. Her smile was shaky, but genuine, hoping to reach a peaceful conclusion. She was the very image of sweetness – and the sight of her made Mortimer furious. He didn't know why. He didn't much care.

“So, this is the famous weaver of Haulm!” Mortimer suddenly spoke with a loud shout, making the siblings jump. “I had no idea we had someone so amazingly talented in our land all this time! Why, I would think someone with your abilities would be shouting it from the rooftops.”

Minnie's smile became stronger – perhaps this was just his odd way of asking for his royal robes to be resewn. “Oh, why thank you, Your Highness,” she cheerfully chirped. “I just do my best, that's all.”

“And humble, too!” Mortimer laughed, but it was dry. “What a sweetheart. Which makes me wonder why you would keep such a big secret all to yourself? Especially from your ruler?”

“Secret?” Minnie repeated, looking at Donald for assistance. Donald was the very image of a man wishing for death. “I...don't know what you mean. Captain Pete said it had something to do with my big brother?”

“She calls me Captain,” Pete pointed out, now standing behind Mortimer meekly.

“And I call you tubbo, now zip it.” Mortimer snapped his fingers, and Pete hung his head. “Anyway, Donald, was it? He couldn't help but boast that you, Minnie, enchanted seamstress, could spin straw into gold!”

Minnie was about to tell Mortimer that insulting anyone in such a cruel manner was uncalled for, but the enormous lie that was spoken threw her off. Again, she looked at Donald for a decent explanation, and he rubbed the back of his neck, muttering apologies under his breath. She inhaled deeply through her nose, letting go of Donald's shirt and stepping in front of him. “Please, let me apologize for my brother.” she began, a hand on her chest. “He has a bad habit of telling tiny fibs to make himself feel better. I've told him time and again, and again and again-” Donald winced, “-but perhaps now this embarrassment will make him stop for good.” That's what Minnie understood this visit to be, a public humiliation and nothing more. She then gracefully lowered her head, and Donald followed suit. “Please forgive us for taking time out of your busy duties for this nonsense.”

“Oh, is that so?” Mortimer replied in a far too calm manner. “That is disappointing. I'd hate to send you both to the dungeon.”

The siblings stood up so fast that Pete could've sworn he heard their backs popping, and definitely did hear them both yelling “What?!”

“Well, you see,” Mortimer began, drawing an arm around Pete's neck and yanking him into the conversation. “Your brother told this interesting fact to Captain fat-for-brains here.”

“Aw, c'mon...” Pete groaned, and now even Donald was beginning to feel sorry for him. It certainly explained one or two things.

“Now, Pete here is my direct line to the Kingdom,” Mortimer continued, ignoring Pete's wounded feelings. “You could say he is my stand-in! So when someone lies to him, that's the same thing as lying to me! And lying to me is treason. And the punishment for treason is imprisonment. You got all that?”

Minnie opened her mouth, but all that came out was a stunned, “But... but...” The sight of her body trembling in fear gave Mortimer unusual pleasure.

“Now you just wait a darn minute!” Donald snapped, fists balling and pushing himself directly in front of Mortimer. “I tell one stupid fib that anyone with half a brain can tell wasn't true, and you want to throw us both behind bars? That crown must be on too tight!” Maybe, just maybe, he could have stood some punishment for his hand in this, but Minnie wasn't going to suffer for his sins, not if Donald had any say about it.

Mortimer waved his hand. “Hey hey, no need to get your feathers wrinkled! No one has to go to the dungeon... if your lie is the truth. Why do you think I brought down this straw?”

“I brought it,” Pete said quietly.

Minnie turned to look at the now haunting square of straw that sat in her room. “You...you want me to...to spin that into gold?” Her voice was weak, breaking with each word. A part of her wanted to be mad with Donald, but she was far too overcome with terror. There was no way her brother would've foreseen this madness. “But that's...how can I...?”

“Not my problem!” Mortimer shoved Pete away, satisfied. “You've got 'til sun up. If I come back and I don't see gold, you'll both be seeing bars.” His eyes became dark, his face lecherous, fingers tapping against each other as his beady eyes rested on Minnie's trembling figure. “But maybe you and I could figure out a much more fun arrangement. Ha-cha-cha!”

Donald exploded, racing forward with fists drawn. “YOU LAY A HAND ON HER AND I'LL-” But for all of Mortimer's put-downs, Pete was still a loyal soldier, and he lifted Donald by the neck, holding him high in the air, causing Donald to gag. Minnie screamed, and Donald clawed at Pete's hand. Pete closed his eyes, the sight of Donald in such pain causing Pete his own odd agony, and he dropped Donald onto the floor. He landed with a hard thud, gasping for air, and Minnie flew to his side, starting to sob.

Mortimer shrugged as if he was helpless. “Guess that's your choice to make, kiddos! I've got to get going, important King business, you wouldn't understand. Hope your night is golden!” With a little laugh he headed out, but he stopped in the doorway, holding a finger up. “Oh, I almost forgot. In case you were thinking of running away or getting any help from your neighbors, my men have been ordered to make sure no one enters or leaves this place. Toodles!” With a blown kiss, he walked out, and Pete slowly followed suit, the door closing quietly behind him.

Donald managed to sit up, his throat aching, but the sight of his crying sister hurt far worse. It nearly brought tears to his eyes, and he drew her into a tight hug. “Oh, Minnie,” he moaned, resting his head on top of hers. “I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for this to happen! I just...I just wanted Pete to shut up, to make us sound amazing...”

Minnie sobbed into Donald's chest, more frightened and devastated than she ever knew she was capable of. “W-what are we going to do?” she asked between hiccups, and even knowing he couldn't answer she asked it again, desperate making her loud. “What are we going to do?!”

“I... I'll find some way out for you.” But even as Donald pushed the words out, he couldn't think of a way to help her, much less himself. Were those really the only options? Live in the dungeons for who knew how long, or let his baby sister be preyed upon by a petty tyrant? He wished he could apologize to Daisy for letting herself get caught up with such a worthless man, to his parents for failing to take care of his sister, and to himself, for hating himself so much that he could make such lies.

The two of them stayed like that for what felt like eons, crying and wallowing in pity. It was night when they finally stood up, quietly deciding they could at least eat their last meal together, even if it was in silence. Donald then retreated to his room, trying to think if he could bring any possessions with him, and then laying down in bed, curling up to a restless sleep.

Minnie retreated to her room and sat in front of the simple block of straw, hugging her knees. Every time she felt she had stopped crying, another awful thought would emerge. Was she allowed to say goodbye to her friends, like Clarabelle? Would she ever sew again? Could she swallow her disgust and stay by the King's side – but that made her want to wretch and give up her dinner. It was more than just revulsion at the King, it was that same mental scream that wouldn't allow her to even consider holding another man's hand. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with this kingdom? Why had everything gotten so awful? Surely it couldn't have been this way forever. Wasn't there a time of peace and happiness?

Just then, she heard a faint sound at her window – a pebble hitting the glass.

Then it happened again.

When it came the third time, Minnie realized it wasn't the wind or her imagination. She wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and began to stand up, puzzled. Was it the guards? Maybe they were taking pity on her and letting her escape! She flew to the window, and opened it.

There in the darkness stood the old man from the market, with the same cloak – oh, it'd been black, now she remembered – and the same staff and the same weary look about him. Two of the nearby guards were laying on the grass, snoring loudly. Minnie wasn't quite sure what to make of this scene, and could only think of one thing to say. “...Hello?”

“Hello,” said the old man, sounding far more chipper than the last time they met. “I was stopping by to see how you were doing. I convinced these weary fellows to take a nap.” There was clear amusement in his voice, as if he had said a joke only he would get.

“Oh. Well.” The absurdity of the situation put a pause on Minnie's fear, though her genuine kindness shined on. “If you need something to eat, we still have plenty, but we've also got a... very bad situation going on.”

“I figured.” The old man nodded once. “Not to worry, though. I'm here to repay your kindness.”

“You don't need to worry about that.” Minnie pulled back from the window. “Please, you should get going before the other guards come here and force you along!” She turned around, ready to gesture to the straw. “The King is making us do an... impossible...task?” Minnie's sentence had begun to trail off because now the old man was standing in the room, on the other side of the stack of straw. She blinked once, then twice, then looked back outside just to make sure, and nope, he wasn't outside. He was definitely inside, with her, somehow. “Huh?”

“I'm guessing this isn't a new fad in home décor.” The old man poked the straw with his staff, clicking his tongue.

“I... uh.. n-no, the King...” Minnie was still looking back and forth between the outside and the inside, trying and failing to understand how he could have gotten inside so quickly. It was like magic, which was silly, since there was no such thing. She'd long since outgrown those kind of beliefs. “My big brother told a silly lie, that I could spin straw into gold. Now the King says either I actually do it, or we go into the dungeons for being traitors. Or...” She didn't want to say the other wretched option, wringing her hands tightly.

“His pettiness never ceases to amaze me.” The old man straightened up as best he could. “As I said, I am here to repay your kindness.”

Minnie lifted her head. “How?”

The old man lifted his staff, but then he suddenly slammed it down with a strength Minnie wouldn't have guessed him capable of. The second the staff hit the floor, golden light flooded the room, and swirling colors wrapped around the old man, melting the cloak, the hump, the gray tight skin on his hands. Now this was a young man, perhaps no older than Donald, with dark black fur and dazzling blue eyes, and a smile that never stopped being charming. As the light began to fade, Minnie – who had been so stunned she lost her footing and wound up sitting on her bed – could see that he was wearing rich fabrics of red and yellow, with the royal insignia of the kingdom on his chest, complete with a flowing cape that rolled past his feet. Even his staff had changed, now made of steel and rubies, with a large red one sitting atop. The show had ended, and the world was silent again, with neither mouse saying a word. The old man – the young man – was grinning, enjoying the shock on Minnie's face. “Sorry, had to do a quick costume change first,” he chirped, with his new voice matching his new face, peaceful and boyish with a hint of the country. “My power is a lot stronger when I ain't in disguise. But I can't stay this way for too long either.”

Minnie said nothing because what could she say? Where could she even begin? She pushed her fingernails into her palm to see if this was a dream, and it wasn't. Shakily, she began to place her feet back on the floor, toes first, her heart racing. The longer she stared at him, the more conflict built up in her mind. Half of her wanted to run away, or for him to leave, because he didn't belong here, he couldn't possibly exist, there was something about him that defied existence – but the other half of her wanted to run into his arms and never let him go, to gaze into those endless ocean eyes and hear his voice say every word that had ever been written. These opposites created a dizzying effect, and she felt like she was going to lose her balance – and then his arm was around her waist, keeping her steady.

“Easy there!” The boy said as he caught her, helping her regain her balance. “I know, I know, it's not a good feelin' right now. But I won't be long, I promise.” His touch was warm, soft, and familiar.

Minnie's cheeks flushed red, having never been in such close contact with a boy that wasn't related. He was polite, and funny, and very handsome. If such a boy had always lived in the village, she could see herself going after him instead of waiting for him to come around. For once, her mind didn't have that screaming shut-down reaction to such a thought. Instead, the happier side of her mind had started to dominate, and she could see herself holding hands with him, and – and for goodness sake, she just met him today! Her embarrassment built up, making her blush even deeper, and the boy chuckled at her endearing reaction. “I, um, that is...” Minnie stammered, not exactly fighting the hold he had on her, and when had her hands touched his chest? “W-who are you?”

The enchantment of the moment crumbled, and the boy's earnest smile began to break apart, his face falling. Minnie thought perhaps she had insulted him, yet how could she have, when they'd never met before? The boy reluctantly began to pull his arm away, facing the straw. “I guess, for now... Let's say I'm a wandering magician.”

Oh, right, hadn't that been an important point? “A magician!” Minnie exclaimed, still amazed even though she'd seen his transformation with her own eyes. “Magic is real? I thought it was all made-up, like a fairy tale! That's amazing!” She even applauded to make up for not doing so earlier. Who knew the limits of something you used to think was impossible? “The Kingdom could really use help like that! Think of all the good you could do for everyone!”

The boy rolled his shoulders as if shrugging off the compliments. “Magic isn't the solution to everything. In fact, it can make some things worse.” He plucked a strand of straw and rubbed it between his fingers. “You should never rely wholly on any one thing...or any one person. There will be times when the only person capable of making a change is you.” He glanced at her.

Minnie thought it sounded wise, but also had no idea what he was referring to. “So... you can't help me?”

“Oh, I never said that,” the boy pointed out. “But this is payment. A turn for a turn, a kindness for a kindness. If you ever find yourself in trouble like this again, I won't help you for free.”

Minnie looked down, but then up, nodding. “Yes, that makes sense.” No hesitance, no pausing, it was simple as that. A kindness for a kindness – it made the most sense. Although she sincerely doubted something like this would ever happen twice over. Donald would never put their lives in danger for the sake of his own fragile ego again. But then she remembered - “You're really going to do this for a couple of eggs?”

“A kindness for a kindness,” said the boy, smiling. He then laid his palm flat, the straw strand laying there in his hand. He took a deep breath, and then blew it away – and then all of the strands of straw began to fly in the air in a circular shape, taking on the form of a miniature tornado. Minnie yelped, and hid behind the boy, but he never took his eye off the storm of straw. It flew faster and faster until it was a blinding mix of brown and yellow, and Minnie wound up shutting her eyes until the noise was gone. She then slowly opened her eyes.

The bale of straw was gone, and in its place stood four rows of perfectly stacked gold bars. Four across, four in each row, four – she skipped doing the math, rushing over to touch and make sure it was real, even though she'd never actually seen a gold bar in her life. It was the sort of impossible rich thing you heard people talk over but thought you'd never see in your life, like a pure diamond. It was cold to the touch, and while they were heavy, she could still lift one into her hands. Minnie gaped. “It's... it's real gold! You turned it all into gold!”

“Sure did,” said the boy, as if all he'd done was change a couple of bed sheets.

“This is amazing!” Minnie whipped around, her eyes starry, in awe that she was in the company of such an astounding person. “You're amazing! I can't believe it – you must be the most amazing person in the whole wide world!”

“Aw, shucks.” He kept trying to play it off as nothing but there was clear pride in his smirk, perhaps more pleased that she was the one praising him instead of the praise itself. “I suppose it's all right.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” This time Minnie didn't fight her instincts and lunged at the boy, throwing her arms around him and still thanking him over and over for saving her and Donald's life. The boy was thrown off by how energetic her hug was, almost losing his balance and tipping over.

Maybe the boy didn't realize exactly how appreciative Minnie would be. “Uh, ah, gee, Minnie! You could make a fella get a swelled head!” Dang it, he'd tried to build up a cool mystical aura and now he was getting flummoxed. “I, uh, it's fine, really, you don't have to-”

“Thaaank youuu!” She'd even begun to cry, she was so deliriously happy, and even though he'd said he was repaying her kindness several times by now, she felt she owed him the whole world and she'd give it if she was able. She didn't even care that he'd somehow known her name without her ever saying it – a point she'd recall later when the sun was rising. “Oooh, thank you mister amazing magician sir!”

“Uh.” Now the boy had lost all of his fanciful speeches, and it was his turn for his cheeks to resemble red apples. “Uhhh...” He was helpless putty in her arms, especially now that she was nuzzling her cheek to his own as she continued to shout gratitude, and there went the feeling in his legs, and there went his tail going waggity-waggity-wag. He was starting to forget that he promised he wouldn't be long. Then came what could've been the final nail in the coffin – Minnie pressed a big, loving, indebted kiss to his cheek.

The boy had two choices at this point – throw all of his planning out the window and doom the kingdom, and his own existence, in order to get another kiss, or find what remained of his strength and get out of the house on time like he originally designed. Keep in mind this was a difficult choice to make, but he finally chose the latter, yanking Minnie off his shoulders and spinning around until his palm hit the wall so he could catch his breath. “Geez, Minnie!” He exhaled, his heart and mind reeling. “You make a fella just wanna stay here forever... and I had a whole nice speech planned and everythin', now I can't remember a word, I was gunna have a really neat goodbye!” He then slapped his cheeks a few times, waking up to reality. He cleared his throat. “I need to leave before Mortimer comes back.”

“Do you have to go?” Minnie asked, and tried to take his hand. But his hand found hers first, and he did the odd move again, pressing a single thumb into her palm, and again her immediate reaction was to close her hand around it even though she didn't know why. She looked at him.

“Yes, I do,” he said softly. “But if you need me again... I'll come back. And you'll have to do me a kindness, before I can repay it.” He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles – and then, in one blink, he was gone. Minnie gasped, and looked around as if he would suddenly pop up, but he was well and truly gone. Her eyes rested on the gold bars, trying to process everything that had happened and barely able to. Her heart ached, and she wanted to cry. The house felt emptier now, like it was missing an integral member.

Her eyes moved slowly, seeing that all the straw was gone, even the usual strands that had been left by Donald – Donald! Donald! Minnie had to tell him! She ran for his bedroom, suddenly understanding how odd it had been that Donald never woke up during the entire bizarre encounter. Had it been part of the magic? Were the guards asleep because of magic too? It didn't matter now, as she throw open Donald's door and began to pull on his arm. “Donald Donald Donald!” She yelled frantically, her words smashing together and becoming incomprehensible. “Youhavetogetupthere'smagicandgoldandblueeyesandDONAAAALLLLD!”

It was certainly the least gentle way Donald had ever been woken up, and he was so stunned that he lay in bed, eyes open, as his little sister continued pulling him along. “What?”

“You – you have to – just get into my room!” Minnie insisted, not letting him get dressed. Donald kept trying to ask what Minnie was saying, but he wound up being led into her room. His questions abruptly stopped when he saw the stack of gold, and his beak dropped. Only then did Minnie think to close the window, knowing more shouting was to come.

Donald tentatively approached the gold bars, lifting one up to check it just as Minnie had. He rapped his knuckles against it, even licked it, mostly because he assumed that was what one did to check for authenticity. Once he had wholly confirmed it was the real deal, he faced his sister. “Minnie... did you really...?”

“It wasn't me!” Minnie pointed at the window, ready to begin her unbelievable tale. “It was – it was the magic man!” Funny, he'd never given her a name. “It was the old man from the market, except he wasn't an old man, it was a disguise! And he came into my room and turned the straw into gold, just like that!” She snapped her fingers.

Donald, being a protective older brother, was quick to jump on a less important tangent. “Wait, what do you mean he came into your room? You just let a random man into your bedroom?”

“That's hardly the point!” Minnie decided to leave out all the touches and hugs and kisses.

“I think it's a pretty huge point! Don't let strange men into your bedroom!”

“I didn't let him, he just... magic'd his way in there.”

“THAT'S EVEN WORSE!” Donald was about to put a death warrant on the pervert who slid into his innocent baby sister's bedroom before Minnie grabbed him by the beak and snapped it shut.

“Donald,” she said evenly, “We have the gold, we're going to give it to the King, and then you're never going to tell another lie like that again. Understand?”

Donald couldn't reply with his beak trapped, so he gave a singular thumbs-up. Minnie released him, and then began to tell story again, this time with the proper details – or what details she could remember. Even though it hadn't been so long ago, now she was struggling to recall what types of jewels were on his staff, or the color of his robes. Donald kept wanting to deny it, kept wanting to say none of that could've happened, but it would've been pretty silly to do that when the evidence that said otherwise was glittering in the room. If there was a magic man, where had he been all this time? Why had he only shown up now? Why was he only helping Minnie and Donald?

Minnie continued to praise the stranger, eternally grateful that fate had been so kind, but Donald's face remained dark. He doubted destiny felt like tossing them a bone. Something bigger was afoot, and he was worried what it meant for their future. He looked at his reflection in one gold bar. If this magic man could make gold so easily, why distribute that power so readily? Why not become rich and powerful, or why not become King yourself?

Why not become King yourself?

Suddenly a sharp pain stabbed Donald behind his eye, and he staggered, needing to lean on the stack of gold for support. Minnie called his name, holding his arm, asking what was wrong and what she could do. Donald held his face, unable to understand it, but knowing that singular sentence was important.

“Why not...” he whispered, “... become King yourself?”

“Donald?” Minnie asked, touching his cheek.

“Did I... Did I ever... say that to someone?” Donald had felt he had, once, long ago, but where? When? To who? Why? Yet it lingered on his tongue, these powerful words that had once changed fate.

Minnie tilted her head. “Who would you say such a thing to? Who else could've become King except Mortimer? He was an only child, and it's not like anyone here knows how to run a kingdom.” She helplessly shrugged.

“Right. Yes. Of course.” Donald tried to stand up straight. “I don't know what I was thinking.” And soon he would forget he had ever said it. But in this moment he was frightened of things beyond his control, of magic and memories and being unable to trust himself, unlike his adorable sister who had faith in everyone and everything. He was afraid for her, afraid of what would come in the morning, and he put his arm around Minnie's shoulders, protectively keeping her close. She didn't complain, leaning on him and watching the gold.

Neither of them got any more sleep that night. They stayed in the room, staring at what shouldn't be, and thinking of more impossible things.

The sun rose, casting a golden glow upon the kingdom.

#disney #fanfic #the last straw #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #donald duck #peg leg pete #mortimer mouse

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