Fairest - Scene 3 (Patreon)

The pair touched down outside a small house. Even before Samara had regained her balance, Sophie was climbing out of her arms to prance around with glee.

Sophie “This is your ‘forlorn abode?’ You live here?”

Samara “Perhaps it’s modest by your standards, but-”

Sophie “This is incredible!”

Utterly at a loss, Samara could only watch in mild horror as Sophie began to explore, completely undeterred by her “captor’s” dour attitude. Hurrying over to the front door, the princess threw it wide and then held it open, impatiently waiting for Samara to join her.

Rather displeased at how comfortable the princess was already becoming, Samara stomped inside behind her. This was not going according to plan. She should be terrified! Heartbroken! Forlorn! No descriptor of sorrow should be superfluous enough to describe the princess at this moment.

Yet here she was, opening drawers and examining items on the shelves.

Samara “Don’t touch that! You’ll-”

A puff of smoke erupted from a peculiar, mushroom- shaped -object, coating the princess’s face with soot and releasing the smell of sulfur.

Sophie “Oops. I hope I didn’t break this one.”

Placing the item gently back on the shelf, Sophie skipped away to look at something else. Samara sighed. It was most definitely broken.

What was she supposed to do? Nothing was going right.

Sophie “So why am I here, again? Are we partners now?”

Samara “Have you heard anything I’ve said? Do you know who I am?”

Sophie “Yes, yes. ‘Samara, the Dread Witch, the harbinger of revenge. Oh, this is pretty, did you make it yourself?”

She had found a small glass bauble which changed colors wherever her fingertips touched it.

Samara “That’s correct. That's who I am, I mean. I am Samara.”

Sophie “Right, we’ve covered that.”

Sophie “Anyway, again, I’m happy to be here, although I’m going to have to tidy up a little bit. Things will never work out with all this clutter. Are half these things even necessary? We could make a list of everything and—-

Samara “Stop!”

Quite fed up with the way that Sophie seemed to be only talking, and not listening, Samara waved her hand and, instantly, Sophie’s voice was gone. Though her mouth flapped like an indignant fish, she’d been magically silenced.

Drawing a long, hissing breath, Samara rubbed her temples before turning back towards the noisy princess.

Samara “Let me make this clear, one last time. You are a prisoner, not a guest. You have been kidnapped, not taken on an adventure. You shall do nothing but sit quietly and bemoan your fate while your family laments their loss. This is not a favor, it is revenge.”

For the duration of Samara’s short speech, Sophie’s mouth never once stopped moving, - regardless of the fact that there was no sound coming from it. However, at the word “revenge,” she became even more animated, gesticulating wildly. Samara finally rolled her eyes and undid the muffling spell.

Sophie “-—tell you, they won’t care. Why else would I be so happy to be gone? Oh, I can speak again! But anyway, if you think you’re going to get anything out of this then you’re sorely mistaken. Just kill me now instead, so that I don’t have to sit around for all eternity.”

Samara “Who won’t care about what?”

Sophie “My family! About me! Do you listen to anything I say?”

Samara “I’m not sure you have any right to—-”

Sophie “If anything, you did them a favor, too. They hate me. Have for years.”

Sophie “So I don’t know why you’re looking for revenge against them or whatever, but please, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help out.”

Struck speechless yet again, Samara simply nodded. This was getting further and further from her plan. Her plan was practically irrelevant, in fact. If the princess wasn’t going to be sought after, then what was even the point?

With nothing to do except watch, Samara sat down to try to regain her bearings in her own home as Sophie went back to tidying up the place.