The Crossing of Blades (FIOLEE)

Chapter Nine

Marshall took another swig of his drink. At this point, he had nearly forgotten what kind of drink it was. Tasted awful anyway.

"Captain... don't you think you've had enough?" One of his crew asked nervously.

"I still remember every single detail about her, so no." Marshall replied.

"Ah, woman troubles." The bartender said sympathetically.

"It's not even her fault. It's her stupid, beautiful sense of duty to her people. Why is it always, always about her people?" Marshall asked. No one answered, so he took another long drink.

"Captain, shouldn't we be setting sail soon?" His crew member persisted.

"What for? She's probably already back in Duine. Or is she is Dulce? I don't know where she is, that's part of the problem!"

The crew watched him anxiously.

"But we have a responsibility." The spokesman for the crew ventured.

"Responsibility, responsibility! That's what got us into this mess in the first place, isn't it?! That's why she's gone! I'm tired of responsibility right now."

"If you'd like, we have a few girls here." The bartender ventured.

Marshall shot him a dirty look. "They're not my Fi, so I don't want them."

"Captain, every single other time you've come in here, except last time..." The bartender trailed off as Marshall's dirty look intensified. "Perhaps another time then."

"Hmmph." Marshall muttered into his drink.

"Captain... are you just going to sit here feeling sorry for yourself?" The crew member persisted.

"No, soon I'm going to pass out." Marshall replied.

The crew member steeled himself for what came next, and said, "Captain, you're acting like... like..."

"Like?" Marshall prompted.

"Like Samuel Tepes." The crew member said in a small voice.

Marshall stared at him for a minute, before nodding. "You're right. I am acting like that rat-face. Damn... how do I act like me, though...? This has never happened to me before. How do I fix this?"

"Sir?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe... maybe it's time to hang up the title of 'Captain' for a while, in favor of 'Prince'? Or 'King'? After all, we all thought that you made a most reasonable offer on the Shadow, when you offered to marry her to stop the war."

"Reasonable...? I wasn't acting on reason. I was just spewing gibberish. Am I still spewing gibberish...?" Marshall wondered.

"Well, whatever the reason sir, perhaps you should contest Dulce's claim to her?"

"Contest it? How?"

"Our lands are better than Dulce's. She likes you better. This shouldn't be a problem, sir?" The crew member said uncertainly.

Marshall seemed to consider this. "How quickly can we turn from a pirate crew into a royal delegation?"

"A few days, sir."

"Good... find out where she is, exactly... I have to go take a nap." He stumbled off of the bar-stool and out the door, before collapsing against a lamp. The nervous crew member looked from him to the bar tender, before some of the crew got up and carried him back to the ship.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

"What do you think?" Cake said proudly, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

"It's... girly." Fionna said. She was trying on her wedding dress, which puffed out in the sleeves and skirt and hugged her everywhere else. The neckline was low enough to expose her collarbone, dipping in a circular design.

"I know." Cake said happily. "Looks nice, right?"

"I guess... dresses aren't really my thing."

"You cannot get married in uniform." Cake insisted. "If nothing else, you can't do that."

"Hey, Cake? Thanks for doing this." Fionna said quietly.

"No problem. I'm happy to help you."

"Yeah, but... thanks for being there for me."

"Again, no problem. I'm your best friend. Oh, hey, I talked to one of the Admirals, and I'm coming with you to Dulce when you go."

"No, I meant... being there while I get over him."

"Oh." Cake's face fell. "Don't think about him. If you don't think about him, you won't have a problem with him."

"I don't know if it's that simple. It's crazy hard to get him out of my head."

"But... it was just a couple days. You don't even really know him."

"I know, but I feel like I've known him forever. I feel... more complete when I'm with him, like we're two puzzle pieces that fit together. Like we belong together."

Cake shot her a skeptical look. "You're eighteen. That is too young to be thinking about your soulmate. Besides, maybe Prince Gumball is your soulmate, hmm?"

"I never said Marshall was my soulmate. I just... we belong together, we need each other to thrive."

"Sounds a lot like soulmates to me." Cake said skeptically.

Fionna paused before nodding. "I guess... I guess we are... but there's no point in crying about it, I have to marry Gumball, so complaining about it won't do anything to help the situation."

"When is the wedding, anyway?"

"Two days after Prince Gumball lands on Middleground Island." Fionna said quietly. "Depending on the wind, that could be sometime within the next few days, or at the end of the week." Fionna said quietly.

"Two days...? I can't whip up a trousseau in that amount of time." Cake muttered.

Fionna whipped around and shot her a look. "A trousseau?"

Cake smiled. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. All I have— and all you really need— are this dress and the ballgown. Everything else that you need can either come with you or be made in Dulce. Uniforms can be burnt as soon as we reach Dulce shores."

Fionna shot Cake a look, and Cake grinned. "I'll do it while you're not looking." She promised. "Besides, a princess of Dulce can't run around in a Duine Navy uniform, so you must have realized that they would have to go at some point."

"The uniform is the last tie that I have to home." Fionna pointed out.

"Except me." Cake countered.

"Except you." Fionna amended.

"At least there isn't some huge prophecy hanging over us, determining that you would marry some wad who hurt you." Cake said, noticing some tears in the dress and sticking pins in them.

"Yeah, that'd actually be fairly stupid." Fionna agreed, abandoning the idea entirely.