46. Entering Disneyland

Gardening is about enjoying the smell of things growing in the soil, getting dirty without feeling guilty, and generally taking the time to soak up a little peace and serenity. -- Lindley Karstens.

Spires arc crazily towards the sky like white and blue flowers. Pennants trail, the stiff wind up there making them sound like books snapping shut. Everything is clean, and not just clean but Clean; super, bleached, stab-into-your-retinas-like-a-needle-it’s-so-white clean. Even the brickwork near the floor being free from dirt despite ending in bushes and carefully tended flowerbeds. It’s like something from Kairi’s book of fairytales, complete with rolling green acres and guards at every door.

“Merlin,” Tifa says quietly, “who exactly have you come to see in this place?”

“An old friend,” he replies cagily.

“Who lives in a castle.”

“Yes.”

“With crowns all over it.”

“Indeed.”

“Does he own the castle?”

“Yes,” Merlin replies after a moment.

“Is he a king or something?” When he doesn’t reply she prompts, “Merlin?”

“He doesn’t like it being spread around too much. It makes travelling between worlds difficult, so the fewer who know his lineage, the better.”

“We’re going to visit royalty,” Tifa says evenly, “and you didn’t tell us. I’m in my grease monkey outfit, I’m all sweaty, I have oil on my face and crud in my hair from when I checked the fuel tanks, and you’re just now telling me that we’re meeting royalty.” It’s not a question in the strictest sense, but it does curl into the air like one.

“He requested a long time ago that I not tell anyone.”

Tifa doesn’t nod. Her neck is stiff as concrete. “I’m just making sure.”

Aerith watches Tifa from the corner of her eye. She seems completely calm. The trip was smooth, with nary a bump or swerve to throw them around, and not even a hint of any Heartless. Aerith breathed out deeply when they entered this bluer-than-blue sky, realising only then how nervous she was. Kairi squirming because Aerith was holding her hand too tight was also a small indicator.

“Hurting me, Aeris! Hurting!”

Aerith had relaxed her grip with a quick, “Sorry, Kairi.”

But instead of harrumphing or whining, Kairi just looked up at her and said, “Don’t be frightened, Aeris. Cowed says,” and her voice became a passable, if childish, imitation of Cloud’s, “‘nothing can hurt you, Kairi, when the lights are on’. All light outside, Aeris. See?” She gestured out of the window at the castle that hadn’t been there a second before.

And Aerith gaped.

She’s still gaping.

The wonderful countryside they passed over was idyllic enough, but this? This is … perfect. And proper perfection, too – the kind of perfect that shouldn’t be able to exist in reality because it’s just too … perfect. This is little-kid-imagination perfect and Aerith stares openly at the immaculate grandeur of the castle and grounds.

Well, if the people here are worth anything, they won’t care how we look.

Still, she straightens her jacket when they dock and disembark in a room full of clanking equipment and marble staircases.

And pocket-sized rodents, apparently.

“Hey, Merlin!” squeaks one.

“Haven’t seen you in a long time!” agrees another, jumping down from a row of dazzling screens and flashing buttons. “How’ve you been?” Together they slide down the smooth banister of a staircase, somersault through like acrobats and land at his feet.

“Very well, thank you.” Merlin pushes his hat further forward on his head, a sure sign of impatience, irritation, hunger, constipation, or all of the above. The tip lolls forward aggressively. “Is the king in attendance?”

“He’s, uh, waiting in the library,” the first creature says, flicking its eyes at Tifa, Aerith and Kairi.

“Got a real harem going on there.” The second creature smiles at them, revealing little buck teeth. “Didja get married while you’ve been away?”

“No.” Merlin’s tone is curt. He takes a deep breath and lets it out with such force it creates a little well in his facial hair. “I do apologise, I’m being unforgivably rude. Evidently too much time in that boor Highwind’s company has soured me in the finer points of etiquette. Chip, Dale, these are Aerith Gainsborough, Tifa Lockheart and Kairi Caspian. Ladies, allow me to introduce two of the most excellent technicians since Cid Highwind proclaimed himself an authority on aerial mechanics.”

“Technicians?” The buck-toothed creature wrinkles his nose. “Naw, we’re just chipmunks who know a thing or two about fixing stuff and Gummi Ships. And fixing Gummi Ships!” He grins again. It’s a cheerful, slightly distracted thing. Aerith finds herself smiling back. “Hey there. I’m Dale. I’m the smart one.”

The other chipmunk bashes him between the ears. “Keep dreaming.” He bows, holding down Dale’s head and forcing him to do the same. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Chip.”

Kairi giggles and claps her hands.

Dale immediately breaks free and skitters across to her. He sits on the floor at her feet and waves. “Hey. Mind if I use you to climb up?”

Kairi stares at him, then at Aerith.

Aerith nods. “Just be careful and don’t knock him off, Kairi.”

Dale wastes no time. His little claws hook easily into the stitches of her dress. Kairi’s giggles become explosive as he perches on her shoulder.

“Hey again. You’re even prettier from up here.”

“My name,” she enunciates like she’s been taught to if she ever gets lost in a crowd, “is Kairi.” she trembles with the effort of keeping still with this tiny, fuzzy plaything so close to her face.

Dale’s grin becomes indulgent. He clearly likes children. “And how old are you, Kairi?”

“I’m a big girl!”

“She’s two and a half,” Aerith answers for her.

“A big girl!”

“That sure is big,” Dale agrees, reaching out to pat her cheek with one tiny hand.

Kairi, unable to control herself now, grabs the plaything and hugs it to her so tight that he squeals.

“Kairi!” Aerith hastily prises her fingers open. “He’s not a toy! Gentle!”

“Ahhh,” Kairi replies, rubbing the back of her knuckles over Dale’s befuddled head. “Gentle. Gentle. Like the flowers?”

“Yes, like the flowers,” Aerith sighs, gently scooping Dale into her own palms. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Bfuh,” Dale replies. “Strong grip for a tyke.”

“I’ve warned you before,” Chip says with an air of long-suffering exasperation, “fluffy tails, small ribcages and little human kids don’t mix.”

“But kids like me!”

“They’re the only ones.” Chip shakes his head. “I apologise for his stupidity.”

“Hey!”

“It’s all right. Kairi can sometimes get a little enthusiastic. It was very nice of you,” Aerith adds, bringing her hands close to her face, partly to inspect Dale hasn’t been damaged and partly to keep him out of Kairi’s reach, “to make her feel so welcome like that.”

There was a time in her life when a small anthropomorphic, talking chipmunk standing upright in her hands and saluting would’ve been unusual. “Just doing my duty, ma’am. And may I say, your eyes are awful pretty.”

Chip shakes his head again. “Oh, brother.”

Dale doesn’t seem injured, but Aerith’s never seen a chipmunk before. He looks sort of like the squirrels in Hollow Bastion, but without the tail or tufted ears. Plus those squirrels never wore yellow aprons stained with motor oil. They lived in Dark Forest when she was young, until the forest became unable to sustain them, and they all died out.

“Did she hurt you?”

“Nope.” Dale shakes his head and puffs out his chest. “I’ve been through worse than that and come out laughing, ma’am.”

“That’s because you’re too stupid to realise how much danger you were in.” Chip seems about to say more, but notices the Gummi Ship behind them. He squints at it, bounding over to get a better look. “This sure has an unusual design. Is this a custom job? I’ve never seen such great bow craftsmanship before. Well, unless it came out of our workshop.”

“This is the Highwind.” Tifa strokes a hand down the side.

“Did you build it?”

“No, I just piloted it here.”

“I wouldn’t mind learning more about it. Those landing struts are pretty extraordinary. They don’t look like they should be able to take the craft’s weight, but here they are taking it. How’s that possible?”

Tifa grins, hours of tutoring and being grilled on the ins and outs of Gummi Ships finally proving useful. “They’re crossovers. The outer casing has been plaited around a super-light titanium cross-piece. See? If you just look here, you can see where…” and she goes off into a passionate speech, of which Aerith only understands about one word in three. Chip, however, is enthralled, nodding his head and asking questions that are even less understandable, but which make Tifa gesticulate wildly.

Aerith smiles. Maybe she should feel peeved that Tifa asked her to come along and has now found better company in a small rodent, but she can’t. Tifa has seemed so downhearted lately, and Aerith can’t figure out why. It’s been months since the Great Revelation, as she has mentally taken to calling it; and in truth, Tifa never did react as passionately as Aerith thought she might after finding out. She was putting Tifa’s recent low spirits down to worry over Cid, but his recovery is going well. Then she put it down to living with Cid, but Tifa denied that. It’s good to see her friend smile so brightly again after so many watery imitations.

“And he says I’m a sucker for the ladies,” Dale smirks.

“Aeris.” Kairi tugs at her dress. “Gotta go, Aeris. Gotta find a corner.”

“Oh dear.”

‘Find a corner’ is Kairi-speak for needing a bathroom. Chicha, as Aerith’s font of knowledge about childcare, suggested a few weeks earlier that Kairi seems ready for potty training. Aerith was dubious but Kairi was enthusiastic. Her enthusiasm outstrips her success rate, however, and they’ve developed a series of signals for how immediate her need is. ‘Find a corner’ hearkens back to her old habit of going into corners, sometimes clambering over furniture to get there, when she was in nappies. It’s not the most urgent signal, but it is insistent.

“Are there any, um, bathrooms we could use?” Aerith throws the question into the air, not sure who will answer it. Merlin’s obviously been here before, but he’s … well, Merlin. Chip and Dale are so tiny, but they do live here after all …

Actually, that causes Aerith to blink and wonder if all the people in this world are as small as these two. There were huge doors on the castle, but that may not mean anything if this is a place where royalty live.

“I’ll escort you, ma’am.” Dale snaps off another salute. “I think your friend may wanna stay here, though.”

Tifa is still engrossed with talking to Chip, who has moved to balance at her eye-level on the Highwind.

“Tifa?” Aerith calls. “Kairi needs a bathroom. Are you going to stay here or should we come back for you?”

“I’ll be right along in a minute. I was just telling Chip about the handling of this thing.”

“It’s incredible,” Chip breathes. “So innovative. Dale, you gotta take a peek at the schematics with me. There’s so much we could learn about energy efficiency from this ship.”

“Really?” Dale seems surprised at Chip’s willingness to admit Cid’s craft is better than their own designs. “Wow. I’ll do it later. Right now, duty calls. Coming, Merlin, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal?”

“Indeed.” Merlin has manhandled his books from the Highwind and gazes at them thoughtfully. He leaves his staff hanging in midair for a moment, putting it there like there’s an invisible cloakroom hook, and taps the bag. It fizzes and shrinks, becoming a doll’s house miniature of itself. “Much more manageable. I always find the arcane arts so much more biddable in the magical field of your world.”

“You say that every time. I could never figure out why you never wanted to stay here.”

“Prior obligations, my boy,” is all Merlin will say, but an image of Leon pops into Aerith’s head. Strangely, so does Cid. She remembers Tifa’s theory that the two men would be friends if they didn’t enjoy quarrelling so much. She wonders whether the rest of them now also come under the umbrella of ‘prior obligations’ keeping Merlin in Traverse Town.

They leave Tifa and Chip, agreeing to meet them upstairs in a little while. With Dale as their guide they make their way through several long corridors, each with the same blue and brighter-than-white décor as outside. Here and there are plinths with ornate vases of flowers and busts of more anthropomorphic animals. Unlike the animals in Traverse Town, however, these all have regal bearing and hard, blank eyes. There are a lot of mice with strangely round or oval ears, though they’re bigger than either Chip or Dale. A similar ear motif is widely used throughout the castle.

Merlin leaves them when they reach a room with such tall doors Aerith would get a crick in her neck if she tried to look at the top. He bows politely, perhaps to make up for his earlier rudeness, and then smiles at the room’s unseen occupant as the door crashes shut behind him.

“How does Merlin know the king?” Aerith asks Dale. Since she has the wicker basket in one hand and Kairi’s hand in the other, he sits on her shoulder like a furry little parrot. His weight is negligible and his balance excellent as she walks, leaving her with the impression he’s used to travelling this way.

“I dunno,” Dale replies truthfully. “Seems like he’s known him forever. These days the king usually goes to see him. The queen can close up the magic spells protecting our world behind him. Kinda hard to be as thorough as we have to be if you don’t know when someone’s arriving or where in the gummi shield they’re gonna pop through, so it’s easier to exit than enter.”

“Oh.”

Dale laughs. It sounds like tiny bells being clattered against a tabletop. “Don’t worry, Merlin always appears at the same point when he comes here. It’s perfectly safe. Some of us reckon the king just likes going to whatever world his friends are in because he’s a born wanderer. It makes the queen kinda sad, on account of how much she misses him when he’s away, but he always comes back to her in the end. He’s lucky to have such an understanding wife. When he was prince he went all over the place and didn’t come back for ages, but he doesn’t talk about that much anymore. Here we are.”

Even the bathrooms are sumptuous. Dale waits outside while Aerith helps Kairi. She spins the gold-plated faucets afterwards and then scurries out, intimidated by the opulence and slightly ashamed of her old brown boots.

“I’m a big girl,” Kairi tells Dale. “I went potty all by myself.”

“That’s great,” Dale says without disdain from on top of a particularly sulky marble mouse. Aerith reads the nameplate ‘Mortimer Mouse III, Duke of the Ha-Cha-Cha Province’, as Dale scampers up her arm to her shoulder. “Where to now, Miss Gainsborough?”

“Just Aerith, please. And I don’t know. I suppose we’d better go to that place we said we’d meet Chip and Tifa.”

“The Rose Garden? Sure thing. Just go down there, turn left after the stairs and carry on straight.”

“Are there actual roses in the Rose Garden?”

“Be a pretty dumb name if there weren’t.”

This is all the warning Aerith has. It’s not nearly enough to prepare her for when she sees it.

The first bushes are thick and tower above them, forming an arch over a pebbled path. Gigantic yellow roses dip in the slight breeze, as though bowing to them as they pass. The scent is sweet, but nothing compared to the main garden itself. At the entrance Aerith pauses just to take a breath of the perfume, and when she opens her eyes she’s glad because for a moment she can’t breathe.

Not even her church can compare with the sheer number and variety of roses. They’re everywhere, clinging and swaying and sprawling, as though someone has taken a magical paint palette and tossed it into the middle, and wherever drips fell roses have grown in that colour. Tall pink blossoms loom over creeping orange, while pale pink muscle in between white and red, and scattered around are mixtures of two colours – white petals with red edges, mauve fading to dark purple at their tips, and cream fused with pink, white, burgundy, coral, and dozens of others.

Aerith gapes.

“Pretty special, huh?” Dale stands proudly, as though he was responsible for it. “The queen has a pretty green thumb.”

“Your queen did this?” Aerith’s ideas of queens and princesses are informed largely by fairytales. She realises these must be somewhat inaccurate, but still, she always imagined queens filled their time with organising royal banquets, sitting on thrones and looking out of windows, sighing prettily and getting blood on their sewing because no queen ever uses a thimble. “You mean her gardeners did it.”

“Nope. Queen Minnie loves her gardens.”

“You mean there’s more than just this one?”

Dale chuckles. “Like I said, she has a really green thumb.”

It feels odd settling on the grass like a layabout to wait. Kairi soon solves this by urging Aerith to her feet and leading her over to one of the arbours.

“What’s that?”

“That’s a rose, Kairi.”

“Gentle?”

“Can she touch?” Aerith asks Dale.

He shrugs. “Sure. She can smell ‘em too, if she likes.”

Kairi then begins a complicated game of running from side to side, crossing the grass in the middle of the garden, giggling and sticking her nose close to blooms while shrieking, “Smells pretty! Smells nice!”

At first Aerith tries to keep up, but after the fifth time Kairi dashes past and she nearly falls over trying to keep pace, she just gets out of the way. “Be careful of bees, Kairi. And don’t fall over.”

Just watching her tires Aerith out. She stands close by to make sure Kairi doesn’t wander away while she burns off some of her energy.

“Looks like she’s having fun,” Dale comments, still on Aerith’s shoulder. Evidently he doesn’t feel much like getting trampled either. “Are you her nanny?”

“No, I’m … actually, I’m not sure what I am to her.” Aerith thinks about this for a moment. “One of several substitute parents, I suppose. We left our world together and just ended up as a unit afterwards.”

“You and Miss Lockheart?”

“Plus three others, but they didn’t come along today. We all pitch in as much as we can. Most of the time, when people se me out with Kairi, people just assume I’m her mother until I correct them.”

“Well, she didn’t call you mom, and you don’t exactly look alike.”

Aerith laughs. “You’re the first one to ever guess we’re not related straight away.”

“I ain’t half as dumb as Chip says. You don’t get to be a royal mechanic if you’re dumb. I mean, sure, sometimes things don’t go exactly as planned … and the consequences can be kind of messy … and I did cost the palace repair fund quite a bit last year … and Chip did look pretty weird without his fur that time, but Lady Daisy made him that lovely winter hat to keep his ears warm …” Dale trails off. “Um … hey, did I hear you say you brought snacks in that basket?”

“Yes. They’re to share with the others when they get here. And Merlin, but I suppose he’ll be eating with the king now.”

“Aw, but they’ll take ages.” Dale pouts. “Chip can talk the hind strut off an airship when he gets going. And those acorns I had for breakfast were a really, really, really, really, really, really, really long time ago …” He flattens his ears to make his eyes huge and extra soulful. “I did lead you here. Don’t I get a reward for that?”

“I guess one cupcake wouldn’t be missed.”

“Ooh, cupcakes! Are they chocolate?”

“Do you like chocolate?”

“More than anything. Except acorns, and they’re even better when they’re dipped in chocolate.”

“Well you’re in luck, because I also brought chocolate muffins, and some chocolate and strawberry sponge cake, too.”

Dale’s mouth drops open. “I know we’ve never met before today, but I love you.”

Aerith turns back to where she left the basket. She stops when, halfway to it, Kairi’s happy shrieks suddenly cut off. Aerith looks back, scanning for her, but the Rose Garden is empty.

“Kairi?” She straightens. “Kairi, where are you?”

“Uh-oh.” Dale leaps from her shoulder onto a birdbath. From there he picks his way carefully up the inside of a rose bush, emerging at the top sucking his paw. “Ouch, those thorns are sharp. Hey, Kairi, where’d you go? Kairiiii?” He cups both paws around his mouth and yells, “Where are youuuu?”

“Right here, cutie.”

Dale jumps as another, equally small creature pops out of the leaves. Unlike him, however, this one is female and is definitely no chipmunk. She has ears as wide as a butterfly, and a squashed snout, as though it has been smacked flat with a frying pan. Aerith recognises a bat’s wings as she yawns and stretches.

“You woke me from my nap with all that hollering. What’s up?”

“Foxglove? What’re you doing in the Rose Garden?”

“I was out all night collecting fireflies and Moonshimmer Moss for Donald. It was too much trouble to fly all the way up to the tower in all that sunshine.” She yawns again, and then tries to hug Dale. “It was worth waking up early if you’re the first thing I see though.”

Dale squeaks and nearly topples out of the bush. “Foxglove!”

“What?” The bat peers down and spots Aerith. “Oh. You have company.” She doesn’t sound very pleased about this.

“We’re looking for a little human girl. Small, red hair, answers to the name of Kairi,” Dale explains, not looking down. “She was here just a second ago.”

“I was asleep just a second ago, but for you, darling, I’ll see what I can hear.” The bat – Foxglove – gives a few experimental flaps of her wings. She swoops into the air and hovers for a few seconds, before descending to twirl around Dale like she wants to dance with him. “There’s a small human in the Royal Pergola.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you, sweetheart?”

“Is she okay?” Aerith calls.

Foxglove’s huge ears twitch. “She’s fine. I don’t think she’s going anywhere, but you might want to hurry and fetch her,” she replies cryptically.

“Um…” Dale scrubs furiously behind one ear. Aerith never realised animals could blush until the fur of his cheeks darkens as the skin beneath turns red. “Thanks, Foxglove. Sorry for, uh, waking you up and everything.”

She smiles. It shows pointy little teeth. “A kiss would make up for it.”

His eyes widen in panic. “Uh…”

She presents him with a cheek. “Go on.”

Dale leans forward to peck it, only to find himself wrapped up in her wings and bent over backwards, his branch wobbling precariously, as she gives him a kiss on the lips so passionate that even Aerith blushes. It lasts for almost a full minute, while Dale’s arms wave wildly behind Foxglove’s head. Afterwards he sways, leaves and rose petals tumbling to the floor, a bedazzled expression swamping his face.

“Come up to the tower sometime,” Foxglove coos, twiddling her wing tips like fingers as Dale descends back to Aerith and they move off to find Kairi.

“Girlfriend?” Aerith asks, as Dale blearily points the way down a small path hidden behind clumps of polyanthus. Ladybirds stream away when she pushes her way through, telling her how this garden has managed to flourish free of the rose’s natural enemy, aphids.

“Bfuh,” Dale replies. “Gnzz.”

The Royal Pergola is a wooden structure, rather like a summer house without walls. It, too, is swarming with climbing roses, but Aerith is more concerned with the familiar voice she can hear behind them.

“And I live with Cowed, and I live with Aeris, and I live with Zack, and I live with Yuffie -”

Who could she be talking to?

Aerith gets her answer when she reaches the entrance and sees Kairi, eyes shining, her head in the lap of a mouse in a pink gown. The mouse is large, around the size of José or Panchito, with the same round ears as the marble statues in the castle. She sits daintily on a bench, stroking the babbling Kairi’s hair, but looks up at Aerith and Dale’s entrance.

“Hello there.”

“Aeris!” Kairi leaps up and drags Aerith inside. “This is Aeris!”

“Um, sorry if she was bothering you,” Aerith apologises, but the mouse – the queen, Aerith corrects herself, looking at the elaborate tiara – raises one white glove and shakes her head.

“No need to apologise. I was enjoying her company.”

“Queen Minnie.” Dale confirms her identity by bowing deeply.

“Oh!” Aerith has never had to curtsey before. Her attempt feels awkward, but Queen Minnie treats her to a smile so beatific she instantly feels better.

“Please don’t. I come here to relax and forget my duties as regent. All that silly ceremony needs to stay indoors where it belongs, not out here.”

“You … have a beautiful garden.” Aerith doesn’t think ‘beautiful’ quite does the Rose Garden justice, but she’s a little star-struck and it’s the only thing she can think to say.

“I’m glad you like it.” Queen Minnie’s smile switches from beatific to genuinely pleased. She shrugs, a very un-queenly gesture. It grounds her, making her seem less imposing, though no less impressive. “Not many people like to come out here. Too many bees. Still, that suits me when I want a bit of quiet time.”

“We’ll leave you alone so you can get back to it. Come on, Kairi.”

“No!” Kairi breaks her hand free from Aerith’s and runs back, throwing herself at Queen Minnie like she’s a normal person. “Wanna stay. Wanna stay with Keen Minnie.”

“Queen Minnie,” Aerith corrects.

The queen just laughs. It’s a silvery noise, like lace handkerchiefs and dinner sets with too many forks. “Actually, I like that. You’re all welcome to stay. Your daughter is charming. She was just telling me about herself.”

Aerith is embarrassed by Kairi’s defiance, but can’t say no to the queen. She sits down on another bench, grateful for Dale on her shoulder.

“You are a pretty keen gardener though, aren’t you, majesty?” he says.

“I have my moments. Not too many of them these days, with the Fantasia Treaty taking up so much of my time. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re not from our world.” This last remark is directed at Aerith. “We don’t get many humans around here. You’ve come with Merlin?”

“Yes.”

She nods. “The Fantasia Treaty is why my husband couldn’t go to meet him in that little village they usually go to. What’s the name ... Amble-something?”

“Ambleton.” Aerith’s eyes widen. Zack never said anything about meeting a king. Then again, I wonder whether he even knew, if the king likes to keep his identity secret.

“That’s the one. He was quite upset – my husband, I mean. He loves to travel, and I believe he was eager to check up on the young man Merlin brought with him the last time they met. When they parted ways the young man was caught up in some sort of moral dilemma. He confided in my husband, but the king wondered whether he’d come to a decision or not, and how things had played out for him.” She smiles and arches an eyebrow. “It seems Merlin is building up quite a stash of young people to show off.”

“I think the young man he met was my, uh …” Aerith blinks. She’s never had to characterise what Zack is to her now, or Cloud. ‘Lover’ is still too pre-emptive – with Kairi and Yuffie around nothing truly intimate has occurred. There’s nothing better for killing the mood than an attention-demanding toddler or a teenage ninja who keeps irregular hours and hides behind the sofa from the fallout of pranks and often falls asleep there – unless it’s Madame Medusa banging on the front door because she reckons Cloud’s delivery rates are too high.

“Ah,” the queen says with a small nod. “So he decided to confess his feelings after all. Good for him. I’m sorry,” she giggles – actually giggles – at Aerith’s expression. “But it was written all over your face that he’s more than just a friend.”

“You’re telling me,” Dale quips. “I’m getting a tan from the blush over here.”

“You’ve gone red, Aeris,” Kairi helpfully adds.

Aerith bows her head. “Anyway, Zack’s fine. Better than fine, actually. If he’d known where we were headed today, I’m sure he’d have come instead of us.”

“Oh, but then I wouldn’t have met you and your lovely daughter.” Queen Minnie tweaks Kairi’s nose – another un-queenly gesture – making her laugh and hold her hands over her face.

“She’s not my daughter,” Aerith says reflexively.

“Oh?”

“I mean, uh…” Aerith blinks. Somehow it doesn’t feel right to pass everything off with a few sentences like she did with Dale. “It’s a long story.”

“I have always enjoyed a good story, especially one told on a warm day in my Rose Garden. Provided, of course, you’re comfortable about telling it. I won’t press you if you’re not.”

Something about the queen’s gentle kindness makes the words just pour out. Aerith can’t stop them. She tells her all about being plucked from Hollow Bastion and dumped in Traverse Town, and how they’ve come to live together since then. She tells her how they’ve be muddling along raising Kairi as best they can, first motivated by guilt at the fate of her mother, then by love as Kairi carved out a place in their hearts. She tells her how it seemed like the Heartless followed them to their new haven, until all attacks stopped very abruptly a few months ago, and how they’ve dared to start hoping they might be safe at last. She tells her about how Chicha has been a godsend, her experience and advice steering them in the right direction for how not to turn Kairi into a complete brat or a weak-willed nonentity.

She wonders whether to mention her theory about Kairi and the keyblade, and how they could be responsible for bringing them out of their world. Aerith has never spoken of it with anyone beyond her immediate circle, but Merlin and Zack both said the king is concerned about fighting both Heartless and the darkness, and he apparently confides in his wife a great deal. Merlin’s theories about the vanished keyblades may be shared by them – but the queen’s furrowed brow and raised hand stop her.

“You’ve all been through a great deal. I have to say, I commend you for being able to carry on after all that, and you certainly have done a wonderful job at ‘muddling along’ if Kairi herself is any indication.” Kairi’s head is once again in the queen’s lap. This time, however, her eyelids are fluttering and her thumb is in her mouth. “She’s adorable.”

“Except when she has a tantrum.” The words slip out before Aerith can stop them.

“You should see our court magician. You’ve never seen a tantrum until you’ve seen him in full swing.” Queen Minnie’s voice becomes soft and a little wistful. “I’ve always wished for my own son or daughter, but somehow the situation has never seemed quite right. The king was always away so much, leaving me to rule as regent in his stead, and I had so many duties sometimes it felt as though my brain was stretched too much to fit inside my own head anymore. Now there’s this recurring problem with the darkness and these Heartless creatures. I’m glad to hear Traverse Town hasn’t been attacked recently, but other worlds aren’t so fortunate. My husband seems intent on trying to save each one personally, so that whenever he is home he’s busy dealing with whatever matters of state have piled up in his absence. Still, sometimes I do wonder…” She sighs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, talking nonsense and whinging. You mustn’t listen to a word I’ve said.”

“It’s all right,” Aerith says, though secretly she’s a little shocked the queen would confess so much – especially to a stranger and one of her own courtiers. “Does the king know how you feel?”

“The king has a reputation for being both exceptionally wise and exceptionally innocent.” Queen Minnie squints thoughtfully. “Then again, he did bring me back a puppy from his last trip. The little thing is from another world, so he can’t talk or walk upright like normal animals, and he has an unfortunate habit of licking anyone and everyone the moment he meets them. It can play havoc with a lady’s face cream, but he’s cute as a gumdrop all the same.”

“That was nice of the king.”

“Mm, but puppies rarely look so pretty in pink as princesses, and they don’t seem to enjoy wearing bonnets very much, either.”

Aerith can’t think what to say to this. Neither can she think how to respond to the queen’s mischievous little smile, just a hairsbreadth away from being wicked.

“You seem shocked.”

“You … I’m sorry, but you don’t act like I expected a queen to act.”

“Good. I’d hate to fall into one of those awful clichés. I prefer just being myself, not some pompous caricature of queenliness.”

Aerith’s like for her ratchets up a few notches. It’s hard not to like Queen Minnie.

Dale’s stomach rumbles, far louder than Aerith expected for his size. “Oops.”

The queen taps her forehead with the heel of one hand. “How silly of me. You must all be terribly hungry. I shall see that the kitchens whip something up immediately and bring it out -”

“Um, actually, your majesty.” Dale scuffs his foot on Aerith’s shoulder. “Aerith brought chocolate cupcakes, and muffins, and sponge cake with strawberry sauce, but they’re all back in the main Rose Garden …”

And that is how, when Tifa finally arrives, she finds Aerith sitting on the grass with a pile of baking, Kairi asleep in her lap, beside a chipmunk, a mouse, and a pair of old brown boots next to a pair of glittery silver shoes, white gloves and a tiara.

To Be Continued …

Side-flings, Homages and Downright Rip-offs

Aerith reads the nameplate ‘Mortimer Mouse III, Duke of the Ha-Cha-Cha Province’.

-- Mortimer Mouse was the original name for Mickey Mouse. However, Lillian Disney, Walt Disney's wife, believed the name sounded too pompous and suggested the name Mickey instead. The second character to use the name was Minnie's ranch-owning cattleman uncle, who first appeared in the 1930 comic strip Mickey Mouse in Death Valley. The one referenced in this fanfic, however, is Mickey’s biggest rival, and his competition for Minnie's affections in the old classic cartoons. Mortimer was introduced in the 1936 short Mickey's Rival. In the comics, he was briefly renamed Montmorency (Monty) Rodent (pronounced "Ro-Dawn"), but the new name didn’t stick with fans, and he went back to Mortimer in later comics. He vanished for a while until the recent animated series Mickey MouseWorks and House of Mouse, where he’s known for his catchphrase, "Ha-cha-cha!" He’s the third Mortimer Mouse from Disney, hence ‘III’ here.

“Foxglove? What’re you doing in the Rose Garden?”

-- Foxglove the Bat was a character from the animated TV series Chip n’ Dale’s Rescue Rangers in the late 1980s. She worked for a witch (though she defected after falling for Dale and rescuing him from the witch’s clutches) and became Dale’s primary love interest after the more famous Gadget Hackwrench – although mostly her affections seemed to scare him (foxglovefaq. tripod. com/directory. html).