A Plan in Motion

Bite wasn’t too fond of the royal family. Donn was alright, but the others were pompous pricks as far as he was concerned, with no real understanding of what he and his officers had to do to keep their shiny city clean. Fiona was the worst of the bunch; after years of neglect and irresponsibility, she was standing before him at the police station, awkwardly leaning from left to right in a clear show of nervousness, trying to pretend she knew what to do. Colton gave the report of everything they knew, so he just had to wait for the spoiled child to realize she needed to give in.

He breathed hard through his nose, more than he meant to as he knew it showed his annoyance, as he glared at the princess. Her purple eyes darted around, looking at everyone’s feet, when suddenly her whole face seemed like it was glowing. Her posture immediately straightened, and the tips of her lips curled in a small grin. She had thought of something, and Bite knew it was bound to be trouble.

“Has Gwyn just been drinking water?” she asked calmly, which surprised Bite. Given her earlier demeanor, he had not expected the shift from the princess.

“What does that matter?” the large, dark-furred Bentulousian asked. Bite never got her name and honestly didn’t care to ask. He, however, did agree with the sentiment.

“Water, juice, and whatever else he can find. It seems like he is avoiding alcohol for the most part, though,” Colton replied.

Fiona nodded like she had just received useful knowledge.

“Bite, I need you to gather as much Aqueenian wine as you can, the strong stuff that hammers Netzians. Kerra and Colton, you’ll help me get the rest of the materials.”

The princess suddenly seemed so confident that Bite was about to let her run off and start her plan. He shouted for her to halt before she could get out of the door with the other two in tow, pausing momentarily to grind his teeth in frustration before speaking.

“And what does the princess have in mind?”

She smirked; it was a confident, playful smirk, the kind someone could only make if they had a foolproof plan—or were stupid.

“We’re going to set a trap; I got a little idea from a prank I once pulled. Gwyn won’t know what hit him!”

Bite didn’t respond but made a sound that showed his disapproval.

Fiona took a deep breath and strode up so she was face to-face with the captain. She stood about a head shorter than him but, at the moment, seemed so poised that she might be the same height. It was like she had become a different person.

“If… if this doesn’t work… you can shoot him.” She tried to speak confidently, but her last words still wavered, betraying her earlier bravado. Bite sighed and shook his head.

“I’m used to entertaining the royal family's stupid ideas. Fine, but don’t get mad at me when it fails.”

“I…” Fiona paused and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they looked at Bite fiercely.”

“I won’t have to worry about that.”

“Ha, you should give up any dreams of being an actor, Princess. Very well, I’ll issue the order. Do whatever you plan to do.”

With his approval, though Bite still wasn’t fully convinced, Fiona ran out. He shook his head and gave his order across the radio. All Strong wine and guns were to be brought to him. He couldn’t help but chuckle at what his troops were thinking with that order issued.

***

Colton took a heavy breath as he peeked out from the window of a random citizen's apartment. Bite’s police force had been directing Gwyn in his direction – he still wasn’t sure how the princess convinced the grumpy man to cooperate- and he was left in charge of watching. It was a grueling task, unable to do anything in this moment of need. The green guard had been training for so long to redeem himself, enough that his determination was rewarded with promotion, but in a dire situation, he was just as useless as he was back when King Whitlock was assassinated. Colton shuddered and gripped his arm tightly, steading a shakiness he didn’t want to admit was happening.

Below, Fiona was setting up the last steps of the plan, directing some officers Bite had loaned her and Kerra, who apparently was honor-bound to avenge her comrades—Bentulousian culture was a weird one. Most Aqueenians would have left it be. Even if it was only due to her upbringing, Colton oddly respected the giant woman for her willingness to help.

As the blue princess finished setting out bottles of alcohol, she nodded and looked at her handiwork. A line of drinks, each in bottles, but the first couple were deceptive. She was planning to take advantage of Gwyn’s thirst. Colton doubted it would work, but he liked the idea of trying before they shot the Nonpareil dead. Just around the corner lay in wait for many guns with barrels aimed at where Gwyn would walk.

It was a gamble; he was sure Fiona knew it as well, but they were all—at least she and he—willing to take it.

***

Fiona sat the last bottle down, forming a pyramid of alcohol, when a smokey steam of orange flew over their heads; Gwyn—or whatever was left of him—was approaching. She shuddered. Seeing him in such a nasty state seemed worse than getting hurt, and potentially having her clothes liquified- revealing the scar on her back- was a risk she really didn’t want to take, but her friend was in trouble, and only an awful princess would abandon him. Or at least, she thought.

The blue girl wasn’t sure if her plot would work, but she zapped further down the street and retreated behind a corner. Kerra quickly dived behind her, and some police Bite sent along found their own spots.

Down the street, a half-naked, the top half completely gone, Sinatra ran at full speed. He almost stumbled over the first bottle in the line Fiona set up sat next to a prime cut of salted meat, but managed to hop around it before retreating to the corner where the princess hid. Three heads peered out from the corner in unison—Fiona at the lowest, Sinatra in the middle, and Kerra much higher than the other two.

Gwyn was a sorry sight. The left half of his body made a horrid grinding sound as stones growing on his skin slid up against each other. His right half had Mem growing up to his neck, and the street deformed as he slowly walked closer. He was too far away for Fiona to see his eyes, but she imagined they turned down at the first bottle at his feet as he stopped just in front of it.

“So, how does this work?” Kerra grunted from above.

Fiona only managed a ‘shh’ in response. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but everything was in place now. Sure enough, Gwyn saw the food and drink. He pressed his palms on the ground and hovered his nose over the meat first, then—quite possibly deciding it was good food—he picked it up and scarfed it down. She was happy to see everything going as planned. The meat was oversalted, and if he was already thirsty, it would only worsen the matter. He grabbed the first bottle and guzzled the contents. The first stage was clear. Fiona felt her shoulders loosen.

The first bottle looked like a golden liquor, but it was, in fact, honey. She had only discovered it by accident once, but Gwyn’s thirst would be intensified by the bottle’s content. He spat loud enough for the trio to hear, hiding behind their corner, then locked onto the next bottle.

When the blue princess had done it to her father, she had needed to be more subtle with the placement of the next drink; otherwise, he would suspect something, but the mad Nonpareil didn’t need such care. She simply placed the next drink in a line, and he ran right to it and began to chug the contents—milk. Under certain circumstances, it might have helped, but Gwyn only groaned and spat worse after drinking it.

The next in line was the pyramid of fine—and very strong—wine. Gwyn rushed close and pulled the top bottle off the stack. The others, shaken by his motion and unsteady on the liquified ground, fell over and laid around his feet. He chugged one bottle, then quickly switched to the next. Fiona was sure he was so thirsty now he would drink every bottle, and he did until stopping halfway through the last one.

Staggering, Gwyn fell to the ground and remained solid even as he landed on it. He likely had passed out, and the trio seemed to sign in unison.

Fiona was the first to creep out from the corner. She slid her feet on the ground while slowly closing the gap between them. Gwyn’s eyes, still red but not quite as strong of color, looked her way, and she jumped back. He mumbled something unintelligible before closing his eyes, finally passing out as she had assumed earlier.

“Is it over?” Kerra asked from behind Fiona. The blue princess wondered how such a large person could move so quietly, but she let the thought go.

“It is.”

“Fiona! She did it!” Sinatra cheered, throwing his arms up so his body formed the shape of a ‘Y,’ “That is why she is the best princess Quenth has to offer! And I got to see it firsthand!”

The blue princess wasn’t sure who Sinatra was trying to speak to—perhaps he was working on his speech to the other fan club members. She shook her head and grinned, but the smile quickly faded. Gwyn was incapacitated but not fixed.

“An ambulance, we need to get him to the hospital before he wakes up!” she shouted.