Journal of a King

Journal Entry 17: Stuck with You

A/N: Hiiii! The way I took a five month hiatus from this story. Whew. I'm sorry. Truly. I think I'm marking this story as complete after this, but if you have ideas/suggestions, I'll do another chapter! Anyways, usual disclaimer that I don't own The Sisters Grimm. And! This story is dedicated to Horseandrabbits and DarkNighty36 for their sweet reviews/messages that were my main motivation to write this. Enjoy! 

Before the whole Evil Oz and his giant mechanical witch fiasco, I had already planned on going back. Had I missed my family at all? Yeah, sure, of course. It was interesting to see what Mustardseed and the rest of Faerie (and even my mother) had been up to in the ten years I'd been gone, but like I said, it secretly had been a no-brainer that I would go back to Ferryport Landing.

Was it a no-brainer to me? To my family? To anyone, really?

I had never really felt that wanted in the kingdom — which is funny since I'm next in line to rule that kingdom — courtesy of my terrible dad. Even years after I ran away, I never had a longing or sudden urge to visit Faerie, and when I woke up to the news that the man who made my life miserable from the day I was born was gone for good, I hadn't felt a burst of elation like I should have. I had felt angry, as you know, but after that I still didn't have any desire to stick around. I blamed it on not wanting to take the crown so I could be a kid for a little while longer (because, you know, a couple thousand years as an eleven year-old isn't long enough). I blamed it on not wanting to be anywhere near the fairy who was dead-set on marrying me the moment she could. I blamed it on everything but the truth: Sabrina.

Oh, that girl!

I was doing just fine before she and Daphne moved in with their grandmother. I had a momentary thought to stay in Faerie when I busted out of my cocoon all super-cool, but the thought was gone in a sliver of a second when I had seen the blonde girl I always pestered laying on the ground, trembling and gasping.

Wasn't I supposed to be a villain? I ask myself as I maneuver Oz's giant mechanical witch through the streets of New York. The air is fresher four stories high, surprisingly, and with the space and time on my hands, I'm forced to think about my choice, the person, who was responsible for my departure from Faerie. It's not a comfortable conversation I'm having with myself, but I can't stop trying to figure out why exactly I couldn't seem to stay away from Sabrina Grimm. I tell myself that it's because her family always had some wild adventure, and to pass up free food and getting involved in drama I hadn't started would be crazy of me. I go with that for the rest of the trip.

Parking the machine is a whole lot harder than steering it for whatever number of miles it was from NYC to Ferryport. I end up circling the house a couple of times trying to find the off-switch. Don't bother asking me if I lost the remote on the way over; you should know the answer if you know anything about me.

"What are you gonna do with that thing?" calls Jake from the car as I near them while they park the old jalopy.

"The woods!" I reply as Sabrina cranks her window down with difficulty, sticks her head out, and hollers, "Make it fast! That thing is louder than you eating breakfast, and I really don't need the town angry at us."

I think it's around eleven at night, but either way, it's dark out. I could care less of what the town thinks of us. Half of them already despise the Grimms for their ancestor trapping them, and why would I, the Trickster King, mind if I had some more people shaking their fist at me? Isn't that what I live for?

I end up putting the witch in the forest right next to the collection of valuables I had made a throne out of. After shutting off the piece of equipment and sliding down it, a smile makes its way onto my face before I can stop it when I get a better look at my old seat of royalty. This was where the Old Lady's grandkids were graced with my magnificence, and I, in turn, had been greeted with the first of many signature scowls from Grimm. Maybe that's why I like that face so much now. Wait...I don't mean it like that! I stomp away from the area, trying to remind myself that Sabrina deemed the throne a "pile of junk" and that was a legitimate reason to be annoyed with her.