VELVETEEN vs. The Parliamentarian #2
“Too long for me,” Vel answered.
“I’m going to do my best not to do that again,” he assured her, and leaned forward to plant a quick, dry kiss on her cheek.
It was more like the kisses the Princess knew they’d both been trained to deliver than their desperate grasping from before, and so she kept watching, rather than turning away again.
Tag turned back to their host, arms still around his girlfriend.
“Jackie introduced us,” he said, simply.
“She thought our powers were similar enough that we’d have things to talk about. She was right.”
“And who is Jackie?” asked the Princess, nerves screaming and years of public relations training forcing them down.
Tag frowned at her. “How can you ask me that? She’s your best friend.”
“Humor me. Call it thanks for the whole glass coffin thing.”
“O…kay,” he said, glancing between her and an equally bewildered Vel. “Jackie Frost, daughter of Jack Frost and the Snow Queen. She comes from the Winter Country in the Seasonal Lands, and she really hates to be called a Smurf.”
“Because she’s blue,” said the Princess automatically. Her eyes widened, and her hands flew to her temples, pressing down in an effort to chase the pounding away. “Oh, Grimm,” she moaned. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I don’t know,” said Vel, sounding alarmed. She finally pulled away from Tag, scrambling to her feet. “But I think we should probably find out.”
She turned, offering Tag her hand.
After a moment’s hesitation he took it. She pulled him up to join her, then looked back to the Princess, still holding tightly to her returned love.
The Princess nodded. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
The light in the throne room was more rose than gold, even though they had only walked a few halls to get there.
Vel was still holding Tag’s hand, and he had made no effort to pull away.
Both of them looked like they were perfectly content with this situation, and the Princess wasn’t foolish enough to interfere.
She wasn’t actually sure she could interfere.
They were technically true lovers in the immediate aftermath of true love’s kiss.
Any good fairy tale would tell her that separating them was the role of the wicked queen, not the virtuous princess.
She settled heavily on her throne, waving a hand in silent summons.
A few moments later, a small flock of kingfishers flew into the room, somehow balancing a tray on their backs.
On the tray was a single outsized glass of white wine.
The Princess took it gratefully, draining half its contents in one long swallow before she turned to her companions.
“Would either of you like a drink?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” mumbled Vel.
“I already have a hangover from being dead,” said Tag.
“Suit yourselves,” said the Princess, finishing her glass of wine and putting it back on the tray. The kingfishers flew away again. She slumped back against the cushions. “I think we’ve got a problem,” she said, without any preamble.
“We always have a problem,” said Vel.
“Yes, but this one feels a little bigger than muggers and gossip rags,” said the Princess. She focused on Tag. “The girl you’re saying introduced you to Vel, she doesn’t exist.”
Tag frowned. “What are you saying?”
“We have a friend named Jacqueline Claus,” said the Princess. “She’s Santa Claus’s little girl, and she’s been missing for a few days now. I can’t find her in any of the places she normally spends her time, and when I try to mirror Winter, all I get on my glass is snowfall static.”
“See, now I know you’re messing with the newly-not-dead guy,” said Tag.
“Jackie took me to see the Hall of Mirrors once, and she showed me a bunch of different versions of herself. Including some worlds where she went by Jacqueline, and people called her ‘Snow Princess,’ and she didn’t really have much in the way of powers, just a lot of snow globes and an inflated sense of responsibility. ”
Velveteen winced and dropped his hand as she clutched her own temples. He turned toward her, alarmed, and stopped as she held up one hand to ward him off.
“Vel?” said the Princess. “Honey, what’s going on?”
“I remember the mirrors,” said Velveteen.
She lowered both her hands, standing up straighter as she met the Princess’s eyes.
“It’s a big hall, with these huge double doors outside, and you can’t get inside without the Snow Queen’s permission.
I remember going there. I think I have to remember going there, because I couldn’t have made my bargain with Santa Claus to bring Jory back if I hadn’t gone there.
The pieces don’t hold together without the Hall of Mirrors.
There were other versions of me inside the reflections.
Some of them were terrifying. Some of them were happy. None of them were me.”
“Vel, honey…” began the Princess.
Velveteen shook her head hard enough to make the ears on her headband shake.
“I remember the Hall of Mirrors, but I don’t remember who took me there.
I just know it wasn’t the Snow Queen. And I don’t remember who set me up on my first date with Tag.
I just know it was someone I trusted. Someone I believed when they told me that they’d found a really sweet guy who would never betray me because Marketing told him to. Why don’t I remember?”
The Princess opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off as an elephant suddenly trumpeted outside the throne room door.
That same door burst open a moment later, and a flock of parrots in servant’s uniforms came pouring into the room, bright wings flashing and beaks open as they sounded their own alarm cries.
An abnormally large jackrabbit in a waistcoat and breeches followed them, walking on two legs like a human and eyes wide with panic.
“My lady,” he said, words only slightly distorted by the shape of his lapine mouth. “The Park is under attack!”
“It never rains but it pours,” said the Princess, levering herself out of her chair. “We’ll have to pick this back up later. I’m contractually obligated to protect the Park. This is why I never get to do the really serious day drinking.”
“Are you safe to fight after that much wine?” asked Tag, producing a marker from inside his vest. He uncapped it, sniffed it quickly, and began drawing a domino mask on his hand.
“Let me worry about that, sugar,” said the Princess. “If you two want to wait here, I’ll just go handle this in a titch.”
Velveteen glanced at Tag, then returned her attention to the Princess. “I would love to stay here,” she said, with clear and total honesty. “But Poly and Victory Anna are out there in the Park, and they won’t be dodging the fight.”
“I’ve been out of commission for way too long,” said Tag.
He peeled the mask off of his hand, shaking the two-dimensional image like it was an old-fashioned Polaroid picture.
The sketch promptly solidified into a three-dimensional object, and he pressed the mask onto his face, pushing down against the edges.
When he pulled his hand away the mask stayed behind, perfectly fitted to him.
He grinned at Velveteen. “Look! Everything still works.”
“I would love you even if you’d come back without powers,” said Vel.
The Princess rolled her eyes. “If we’re going to defend my home, we need to go now. You can flirt later, all right?”
“We get a later,” said Velveteen. “Let’s go.”
They left the throne room in a flurry of wings and claws scratching against marble, leaving the fairy tale behind.
* * *
While all of this had been going on—the resurrection, the reconnection, the recollection and the rest—Polychrome and Victory Anna had been busy enjoying the many wonders the Park had to offer.
From rides to shopping, and beautifully designed and sculpted environments filled with endless delights, they wandered from place to place with eyes wide and fingers intertwined.
“Are you quite sure this isn’t magical?” asked Victory Anna as they joined the queue for a water ride in which they would steer a two-person boat through what were advertised as dangerous rapids and glorious scenes of true wilderness.
Polychrome was fairly sure that meant mechanical bumps and animatronic gorillas, but she would have been willing to ride something far more artificial to put that look into her girlfriend’s eyes.
“The Princess is magical,” she said, squeezing Victory Anna’s fingers lightly. “Isn’t that quite enough?”
“I’ve been told, but I still don’t fully understand how her powers are meant to function,” admitted Victory Anna. “Can you explain them?”
“I can try,” said Polychrome. “Basically, she has all the powers that the children of the world attribute to a fairy tale princess.”
“A fairy tale being your world’s term for a wonder story, yes?”
“Ye-es,” said Polychrome, hoping she was correct about that. “So her hair is always perfect, and she can run in really high heels without hurting herself, and she can make anything beautiful with the wave of her hand.”
“Don’t forget about her heartless subjugation of our avian brethren,” said an unfamiliar voice. Both turned.
Behind them in the line was a woman, whip-thin and dressed entirely in black spandex, with owl-themed tattoos crawling along the length of her arms. It was the civilian sort of spandex, meant for yoga classes and ease of motion rather than running along rooftops, but something about it, combined with the sour expression on the stranger’s face, made Polychrome’s stomach clench.
“I’m sorry,” she said reflexively. “We thought we were having a private conversation.” As if two superheroes in costume could ever have a private conversation in a public space.
Everything they said was probably being noted down for the superhuman gossip blogs, including the moment where Victory Anna had offered to upgrade the cart of a churro vendor to give him the death ray he so very clearly deserved.