After The Fall

[Clopin]

March 29th | Open to all Rogues.

Their secret meetings had ended months ago, as they mutually agreed that meeting up and continuing their relationship in secret had resulted in a few close calls. But the letters never stopped coming, usually transported to him via a network of messengers that were excellent at keeping secrets concealed.

The latest letter made its way to his hands, as he read the last thing that Jasper had wrote, followed by his signature. Clopin frowned at the news, particularly one specific line:

They're close to finding out...I don't know how much longer it'll take before they realize what really happened to Simba.

He clenched the letter tightly with both hands, as he paced the room, mind running with how he could counteract should suspicion fall on him. He had played a small part in this plot, but from afar. The one he had sent on his behalf was Taylor, and the assassin was sworn to secrecy.

It had to be done. The lion king had caused far too much strife for the army that he was once a part of. And when that...idea came to be, he found himself jumping at the chance to participate.

But we were friends...why?

To that day, he still wasn't able to answer his own question. At this point, he'd done so many questionable things that he gave up on finding the answer. They had to move forward, and for Jasper and Nala's sake, he hoped that they wouldn't be discovered.

-----------

One day, the letters had stopped coming. Out of concern for the wellbeing of his former friend and significant other, the gypsy king had sent out Taylor and Bob, on a reconnaissance mission to find out what had happened. The news they returned with was...devastating.

"The camp was completely destroyed."

"No sign of life anywhere."

"Burned."

"Blackblood Legion."

The words echoed through his head, throwing him into a daze, and he held his head in his hands as he hunched over his workbench, which was haphazardly decorated with papers of texts, alchemical equations, and maps. Out of a mix of rage and pure grief, he found his hands slamming onto the table, papers flying around him as they fluttered onto the floor while he left the room without a word.

He found himself facing his soldiers in the new Court of Miracles, ermine cloak clasped around his shoulders, and the golden crown weighing heavily on his head as he stood above them, on a stone parapet, a place where he would often hold important meetings. His ever loyal canines flanked him, ears low and expressions of despair clearly evident on their faces.

"Mes amis...I have received news that the Freedom Fighters are no more. The Blackblood Legion destroyed their camp, and my intel reported that there were...no survivors." Clopin announced, choking on the last few words. He cleared his throat, and regained his composure as best as he could before speaking again.

"I understand that this news is...devastating, but I do not want anyone from this army actively seeking the Pridelands for survivors unless I send you. Knowing the Blackblood Legion, they are bound to return, and as your king, and your leader, it is my sole duty to keep you all as safe as I can."

He then saw the expressions of those who had clearly been close to someone in the Freedom Fighters, and he clenched his fist, looking to Dante for a brief moment before looking upon his army once more. He couldn't leave them with such news and then provide zero closure. He saw himself in their faces, devastated at the news of losing both of his parents to Frollo. He wasn't going to let them suffer as he had so long ago.

"I will send out another small group of scouts to search the Pridelands. If there is someone they need to find, please, come forward and let us know. Dante will record the names and send them with the scouts."

[Belle]

Belle's ears rung. Not with the pealing of bells or a song, but with an inescapable shrieking of metal.

Yet no sound could be heard. It was the ringing of horror in her own mind.

Adam had left months ago to join the Freedom Fighters. There'd been no word of him since, no correspondence between and two. Was he now laying amongst the dead? Belle staggered through the crowd mutely, eyes wide and overbright as she pushed to reach the parapet and the wolfdog seated upon it.

"Adam," She gasped, "A man named Adam, I need to know if he's..." Belle couldn't finish. From beneath her frock she fished a locket held by a thin chain. Unclasping the silver front she opened it to an image of a man, his thick ginger hair tied back in waves around a well-lined face and thick brows. With a shaking hand Belle held the locket out. "So they can recognize him."

[Varian]

Varian didn't usually make a point of leaving the sanctity and peace of his lab, there was something comforting about the organized chaos, the bubbling of beakers and the smell of chemicals. It was his safe place, where he didn't have to pretend to know how to talk to people, or relate to them, it was easier if it was just Belle, occasionally Clopin, but nay more than a small handful and the withdrawn boy made a point to make himself scarce, the hum off too many people always made him kind of itchy.

But this had seemed serious.

He'd known for a while that the pair had joined up with the Freedom Fighters, and perhaps that was why he'd made such a decided point of not involving himself with direct battles, that, and seeing the aftermath was enough to rise bile in his throat and make him weak kneed. He belonged behind the scenes, out of sight and out of mind, seen not heard, he liked it that way. There was a very small, minuscule subset of people who rather than exhaust him, they energized him, and his blood ran cold when Clopin announced them likely dead in the sweep of everyone else that was dead.

He felt everything in his head grind to a halt, it had been bad enough to have the weight of his father's supposed death heavy on his shoulders, but now he had to contend with the likelihood that the rest of his family might be dead too, and the thought made his knees shake.

Varian was an anxious boy on the best of days, especially when it came to being social and putting himself out there, but he didn't hesitate to scramble up beside Belle, his voice somewhere between shaking to stave off tears and urgent, "Rapunzel and Flynn Rider...O-or Eugene...? I don't know which one he's told them..." He was stumbling over his words a little bit, both at the heavy burden of the news, and at the fact that he was speaking out loud in an assembly with a lot of people, and that was bad enough, "i-if you can find either of them...or whatever's left..." His words trailed off and he looked down, visibly shaken as he suddenly became hyper aware of himself and clammed up, "thank you," he mumbled, half hiding behind Belle.