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“You held your head like a hero on a history book page. It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age.” - Long Live, Taylor Swift
Two years ago…
Warnerstock was a miserable place.
Max shifted uncomfortably in the carriage. His dad sat next to him, unusually silent as he watched the passing scenery. Really, Max couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t think of anything to say either. Even Daisy and Donald had fallen silent. Daisy looked at the people of Warnerstock with sad eyes, but Donald’s eyes narrowed in anger.
Donald and Goofy would remember what this place used to be like, before King Salazar took over. Max had only ever heard stories.
And what tragic stories they were. Not the sort of tales you wanted a thirteen-year-old boy to hear, but you couldn’t stop people from gossiping. Max heard it all: he heard of King William’s long illness and tragic death, he heard the rumours that Salazar had poisoned him, that it was no true illness at all. But even Mickey believed it had been illness, pneumonia, and Max believed Mickey.
There was more of course, more tragedy. The invasion. Queen Angelina’s murder, the face-down in the throne room as she faced Salazar in combat.
The royal children, missing from the nursery- or so Salazar claimed. Max wasn’t stupid. No one really believed a little kid, a toddler and a baby made it out of there in one piece. Salazar was trying to save face, to say he hadn’t killed them, but no one bought it. Everyone knew the Warner children were dead.
In a day and a night, Warnerstock had fallen to Ticktockian rule.
And the other countries had slowly stopped trading with Ticktockia- and, by consequence, Warnerstock- over the years. Max had shrugged when he’d first heard.
“So what?” he’d said, in all his twelve-year-old wisdom. “Who cares? Salazar shouldn’t get anything.”
Mickey had smiled sadly. “But what about the people?” he’d asked.
That had shut Max up.
And now, riding through Acme Falls, he could see the consequences clearly. The run-down homes and closed shops. The cracked cobblestones and crumbling buildings. The ragged, hungry people.
He could see a couple selling some sort of elixir out of a caravan; he could see a dog and cat sitting at the mouth of an alley-way. He could see three kids walking along hand in hand, all dressed in rags.
Max looked away, biting his lip. Goofy sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping.
They were here to try and make a new deal with Salazar. His demands for trade were getting ridiculous and he was accusing Fantasia of holding out on him. He couldn’t afford to invade them, or lose them- and clearly the people couldn’t afford it either.
It was starting to snow and Max wrung his hands as they made their way through the town and up into the hills. The further they got away from Acme Falls, the prettier things looked again as they approached Salazar’s palace. There was another palace back in Acme Falls, up on a hill. Max had glimpsed it, but it had clearly been abandoned.
It was the palace where William and Angelina had died. Some people said it was haunted.
Max could believe that too.
He knew he was just here to observe. Honestly, Daisy and Donald would do most of the talking, with Goofy backing them up, but Max felt sick all the same.
He couldn’t believe they had to make nice with this guy. A usurper, a killer. And they couldn’t even do anything about it.
Even if Salazar was dethroned, who’d take over? One of his lackeys?
The rightful heirs were all gone and Max felt awful for Warnerstock. It seemed no matter what was done, the people here would draw the short straw.
It wasn’t fair. But then again, nothing had been fair here in a very long time.
“If you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell 'em my name. Tell 'em how the crowds went wild. Tell 'em how I hope they shine” - Long Live, Taylor Swift
They were given rooms in the palace of course, but Max spent as much time as he could outside. The gardens were stunning even if it was snowing and cold.
I don’t wanna be here, Max thought. He sat on a stone bench, overlooking a pond. Everywhere he looked he saw Ticktockian colours, clocks and statues of Salazar. If it was awful for Max he could only imagine how hard this was for his dad, honorary uncle and aunt. They’d known the Warners. They’d stayed here in this very palace as guests before; they’d stayed in the one in Acme Falls.
The whole thing made Max’s skin crawl. The palace was so beautiful, shows of wealth on display everywhere, and only a short distance away Acme Falls was crumbling.
He’s nothing like Mickey, Max thought fiercely. His godfather was a good king, he looked after his people. Mickey would never invade somewhere and kill the royal family. He’d never kill a trio of little kids. Babies! He couldn’t imagine Mickey ever even thinking of it.
What kind of monster were they dealing with?
“Maxy.” Goofy stood in front of him, looking awkward and uneasy. He shifted from foot to foot. “It’s time for the meeting.”
Seemed like Max was about to find out what kind of monster Salazar was.
His first thought was that Salazar actually wasn’t that impressive. Like, at all. Sure, he was dressed richly and he had an impressive glare...But he was just a man. Just a person. He was tall and reasonably broad-shouldered, his crown was polished to perfection and rings glittered on every finger, but that was it.
Max had expected devil horns and a tail. He’d expected fire and brimstone. He’d expected a towering giant of a man with blood on his hands. Max had expected a pitch-black throne room with skulls and monsters everywhere.
Instead, they were led into a gorgeous throne room, lined with a long red and gold carpet, the walls covered in hunting tapestries, the large golden throne on a dais and padded with red and purple cushions. Salazar lounged on the throne lazily, watching them with narrowed dark eyes. He had thick brown hair and (Okay, seriously? Stereotype, much? Max thought) he twirled his moustache as they approached the dais and bowed.
He looked bored. He looked at them like they weren’t worth his time.
Truthfully, Salazar didn’t even look at Max. All his focus was on the adults, and he sure didn’t look happy to see them.
Sitting at a table was his council, all older men in fancy robes. A short man with no neck and thin grey hair stood by the council table, the Ticktockian symbol sewn onto his coat. The tax collector, Baron Thaddeus von Plotz.
It was hard not to hear about that guy. From the sounds of it, he was nearly as unpopular as Salazar. It was almost impressive.
He didn’t look so scary either. He just looked like a self-important, short man, too puffed up with his own power. Max had seen his type before and surely would again.
Goofy, Donald and Daisy didn’t look any happier than Salazar. Donald stood as tall as he could, fists clenched. Daisy’s eyes narrowed, her chin up, shoulders back. Goofy stood at his full height and for once he didn’t look dreamy and silly; he looked genuinely annoyed.
It was an odd sight for Max. He rarely saw any of them look so serious, especially his dad.
Salazar waved a dismissive hand at Max.
“The child can go,” he said.
Goofy frowned. “He’s here to learn.”
“He can learn later. I need to talk to you three and this isn’t for children.”
“I don’t mind,” Max muttered to Goofy. “I can wait in our rooms.” His eyes flickered to Salazar; the King still hadn’t even glanced at it. It was a bit unnerving.
Goofy didn’t look happy, but he nodded and let Max go.
Max meant to go back to their rooms, really he did. But he took a wrong turn at the stairs and ended up in a long, narrow corridor. It looked dusty, the curtains were all closed. Clearly rarely used, if at all.
There were faded spots on the walls, where paintings had been removed. There was a single door on the other end of the corridor. Max knew he should turn around and go.
But he walked towards the door.
Dust kicked up as he walked. The empty walls were more unsettling than Max would have expected.
The door wasn’t locked, but that didn’t make it easy to open. The hinges were stiff and rusty and the door creaked loudly as he pulled it open.
The small room beyond was completely dark. No windows, no lights, but the light of the corridor was enough to show Max the room clearly.
The room was filled with portraits. Dozens of them. All of the same black and white toons, a family. Two parents and three children.
The Warners.
Max’s eyes were caught on the portrait right in front of him. It was faded now and the frame was dusty. It was a portrait of the Warner children; baby Dot on a plush seat, with Prince Yakko and Prince Wakko on either side of her. Wakko sat on the floor, his tongue sticking out. His blue robe was too big for him. Dot smiled sweetly in a frilly pink dress, a flower-tie around her long ears. Old as the portrait was, she was still clearly adorable with her dimples and big eyes.
Yakko stood next to Dot, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. His crown was too big for him, slipping down his forehead, his ermine-trimmed cape pooling behind him.
All three of them were smiling. It was like they were smiling at Max, their black eyes trained on him.
Max’s heart was pounding, though he couldn’t quite say why.
Three little kids, three little ghosts. This portrait couldn’t have been painted too long before the invasion, if he had to guess. Dot was a baby, maybe a year old; Wakko was a toddler, Yakko only a little kid.
Three little royals, three little dead children.
How could Salazar do that? Max thought. His palms were starting to sweat, his eyes stung.
He slammed the door shut and fled.
“And the cynics were outraged, screaming, ‘This is absurd!’ 'Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans got to rule the world!” - Long Live, Taylor Swift
Max fled all the way to Acme Falls. He took one of their horses and hurried away, feeling sick to his stomach.
He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home, where there were no ghosts, no invasions and rebellions; no food-shortages and crazy taxes, and no murdered royals.
He couldn’t believe they had to try and work with Salazar. As he sped back down the hills, he could see the scenery get worse and worse. Everything he had noted before, more close-up now, impossible to ignore.
Finally, Max arrived in the town proper.
It would have been a pretty place, before. Now Max could only see the people’s sad faces and hunched shoulders. Now all he could focus on was the dirty and cracked roads, the boarded-up windows and doors, crumbling roofs and the dried-up fountain in the square.
Acme Falls was miserable, that was plain. It was bleak and eerily quiet, despite the crowded streets.
Max thought of his own home, beautiful and bustling, full of laughter, and felt oddly ashamed.
He was promptly shaken out of those thoughts by a shout.
“Dah, get back here!”
“Not likely!” another, cheerful voice called out. “We paid fair and square!”
Three toons were racing towards Max. The smaller boy carried a little girl on his back. The taller boy, maybe Max’s age, was clutching two loaves of bread to his chest.
A guard was chasing them, in a blue uniform and black hat, a Ticktockian badge shining on his chest. He was waving his fist angrily as he chased them, a net in his other hand.
“Bread tax!” he bellowed. “Plotz said!”
“Can’t hear you, Ralphy!” the boy called over his shoulder. “You’re gonna have to speak up!”
They were such odd looking toons. Max wasn’t sure if they were dogs or not, or perhaps part rabbit. They had ink black fur and eyes; white fur on their faces and feet and bright red noses. They had the same long floppy ears and odd tail.
Oh, Max thought, urging his horse forward a few steps. He’d seen them earlier, hadn’t he? He’d spotted them when they’d first arrived…
So then why did he shiver? Why did his stomach lurch uncomfortably?
The little girl coughed loudly, wheezing. The taller boy reached back and grabbed the smaller boy’s hand, pulling him along.
“Yak,” Max heard the smaller boy pant. “I’m hungry.”
“I know, little bro,” the taller boy said. “We’re nearly home.”
Yak…
Max shivered again.
The trio ran right past him, their ears flopping.
It felt like time slowed down.
The taller boy (Yak?) looked up at Max as they passed, eyes widening as he took in Max’s fur cloak and leather gloves, the clearly expensive horse.
And Max’s heart stopped.
The kid looked like- he looked-
He-
Yakko?
Time sped back up and, as the guard caught up, Max made a split-second decision.
He moved his horse forward, straight into the guard’s path. The guard was running too fast to stop and careened right into Max’s horse- and was knocked flat on his butt.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Max gasped with false sweetness. He stroked his horse’s head, smiling. “Naughty horse,” he said lightly. “Very bold.” He grinned at the guard and shrugged. “What can I say, he’s impossible. Can’t take him anywhere, really.”
The guard sputtered and gasped, clearly trying to think of something to say. He scowled, but when he saw the Fantasia brooch holding Max’s cloak closed he gulped and set his net down.
“Uh...It’s uh- it’s okay,” the guard stammered.
“Good,” Max said. He glanced over his shoulder; the trio of toons were peering around the corner.
The taller boy grinned at him, fiddling with the end of his green scarf. ‘Thanks,’ he mouthed. Max nodded with a small smile and the trio disappeared around the corner. Max heard the little girl cough again.
“Duh,” the guard said. He looked around and drooped as he realised the toons were nowhere in sight. He pushed himself to his feet, but Max didn’t wait around. He turned away, following after those three kids.
But as he turned the corner, he frowned. They were nowhere in sight.
His heart was still pounding, his throat felt too tight.
Yak. They...they were the right ages. The right toon-type...
It’s impossible, Max told himself sternly. They’re dead. They’re all dead. What good was it to brood on ghosts? The Warners were gone and sulking wasn’t going to bring them back.
Sighing, Max turned the other way, brushing past the still stammering royal guard. He didn’t head back to the palace yet, though he knew he should. Goofy would be worried, they all would. But Max couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in his room all alone right now.
There had to be a cafe open somewhere around here, and somewhere to tie his horse. He’d find it.
And he’d put all thoughts of the dead Warners out of his mind. He didn’t believe in ghosts and all he was doing was upsetting himself.
(He couldn’t quite bring himself to tell Goofy, Donald and Daisy what he’d seen later. It was too gloomy, too sad.)
(He didn’t want to get their hopes up.)
Present Day…
“We are the Kings and the Queens. You traded your baseball cap for a crown, when they gave us our trophies and we held them up for our town.” - Long Live, Taylor Swift
“They’re alive,” Mickey gasped. He was clutching a letter tightly to his chest, his hands shaking. Minnie looked equally stunned and it was clear she’d been crying.
“Who’s alive?” Donald demanded with a frown. Mickey had summoned them all to his private office, ordering all the servants out and now they stood before their King and Queen, at a complete loss as to what was going on.
“The Warner brothers,” Minnie said quietly. She smiled tremulously, eyes shining. “And the Warner sister.”
“What?” they all cried. Hewie, Dewey and Louie exchanged shocked glances. Daisy swayed on the spot, clutching Donald’s hand. Goofy’s mouth hung open. Max didn’t want to know how stunned he looked, but he felt like he’d been hit on the head.
He’d heard the talk around the palace lately. King Salazar The Pushy had been overthrown, chased from Warnerstock by his own hounds, vanishing into the woods. No one had found him, or heard from him since.
Max could take a few grisly guesses about Salazar’s fate.
But there were more important issues than that tyrant.
Max stared at the letter in Mickey’s hand; it was several pages thick and he could see the broken wax seal- the blue Warner seal, unused for so long. A golden ribbon lay across Mickey’s guess. Max supposed it had been tied around the letter.
“They’re sure?” Max asked. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had falsely claimed to be royalty. “They’re sure it’s really the Warners?”
“They’re sure,” Mickey said. He looked relieved, so incredibly happy. Max was sharply reminded that Mickey and Minnie had been friends with Angelina and William.
“They found their birth certificates,” Mickey said. He was still holding the letter against his chest like it was something priceless. To him, it likely was. Mickey took a deep breath; “It seems Salazar wasn’t lying when he said they were missing. They were still in Acme Falls, living in an orphanage.” He sighed. “But the orphanage shut down. They’ve been fending for themselves for years now.”
Max thought of the trio of siblings from two years ago and his chest ached.
Was it possible, was it them, had he seen them, was it-
“Remember the reports of a wishing star?” Mickey asked. They all nodded and Mickey smiled. “That’s how they found them. Salazar knew the children were heading there and tried to cut them off.”
Minnie looked fiercely proud when she spoke. “They outsmarted him,” she said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yakko says they tricked him about the star, stalled him- and then one of the guards let them go, thanks to Dot.”
“Yakko wrote that?” Daisy asked quietly, looking at the letter.
“He did,” Mickey said. Even Max looked at the letter with new eyes.
Prince Yakko Warner. King Yakko Warner now. He’d written to Mickey, to Max’s godfather. He’d written that letter himself.
“According to Yakko,” Minnie continued. “Dot tricked everyone into thinking Salazar had killed her. It was enough for his men to turn on him. He was placed under arrest, but they didn’t realise yet who the children were. Not until the local hospital found the old royal birth certificates. The pieces all came together then.”
“Salazar told them they were just like their parents,” Mickey explained. “Which made Yakko wonder how they could have known each other. He vaguely recalled being in a castle when he was small, but none of them realised just who they were.”
“But they do now,” Donald said happily.
“They do,” Mickey said with a smile. Finally, and with obvious reluctance, he put the letter down. “And we’re all invited to Yakko’s coronation.”
“We’ll be there,” Goofy said quickly.
“We’ll all be there,” Donald declared. Huey, Dewey and Louie looked thrilled at the idea. Daisy dabbed delicately at her eyes. Minnie gazed at the letter fondly, smiling gently.
Max grinned, excitement starting to grow.
Salazar was gone. Warnerstock was free. There’d been no war, no terror and mayhem. He’d been overthrown by the rightful heirs.
The Warner siblings were alive.
Max didn’t think he’d ever seen the adults look so relieved in his life.
“Long, long live the walls we crashed through. All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you. And I was screaming ‘Long live all the magic we made!’ And bring on all the pretenders, I'm not afraid!” - Long Live, Taylor Swift
Max couldn’t believe the change. Only two years ago, Warnerstock had been grim and bleak. Acme Falls had been near ruination, a dark cloud of misery hanging over everything and everyone.
But now…
Now bright streamers and flowers were tied to lamposts. The fountain flowed and bubbled, people sitting on its edge as they chatted or enjoyed their lunch. Shops, cafes and bakeries were opened. Homes had been repaired with new roofs and windows. The roads were swept clean of snow.
It was a winter day; snow was thick on the ground, it was cold but sunny. Birds chirped overhead. Max even saw three in guard uniforms flying about.
He saw someone he recognised. The big fat guard from two years ago was directing traffic, dressed in a new uniform. He looked...Happy. Like he was genuinely enjoying himself. There wasn’t a net in sight.
Good, Max thought with a smile.
Everyone looked happier, truth be told. They walked with their chins up, heads held high. They weren’t in rags, they didn’t look starving anymore.
“Wow,” Daisy murmured.
“It’s only been a few months,” Minnie said, looking around eagerly. “Oh, they’re doing so well!”
They were, that much was obvious.
Max couldn’t wait to meet them.
This time, they went to the palace on the hill, overlooking Acme Falls. The one in which William had sickened and died, the one where Angelina had been killed. It made Max feel anxious all over again.
The palace looked normal. No ghosts, no crumbling bricks. He could see some spots where construction was still being done to restore it; some men were replacing windows some distance away, a tower’s roof was being repaired. But other than that, everything looked normal. It looked pretty. The gardens were full of flowers and statues; he could hear a fountain, but he couldn’t see it.
Standing on the steps were two mice and a tall bald man with a big nose, wearing thick glasses.
The three of them bowed when Mickey and Minnie emerged first, followed by Goofy, Max and all the rest. Other carriages followed in their wake; Fantasian nobility, servants and all their luggage.
“King Mickey, Queen Minnie,” the smaller mouse said. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance.” He had a surprisingly deep voice and a large head, and wore a black robe.
“Thank you,” Mickey said. “Prime Minister The Brain, I assume.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. This is my associate, Pinky and Doctor Otto von Scratchansniff. He was the one who operated on Princess Dot.”
“Then I should thank you,” Mickey said to Scratchansniff. “For saving her.”
Scratchansniff flushed pink, waving a hand. “Ah, it vas nothing,” he said. “She vas my patient.”
“Don’t be silly!” the taller mouse, Pinky, said. “You saved her! Everyone says so!”
“We’d like to see them straight away,” Minnie said, holding Mickey’s hand.
“Of course,” Brain said, bowing to her. “If you will follow me.”
They were led down long, brightly lit corridors and Max’s heart was hammering more and more with every step.
Far from abandoned, the palace now looked like a home. And somewhere in here, the Warners lived and breathed, ruling their country.
In mere moments, Max would see them. And he’d know if his growing suspicions were correct.
The Brain, Pinky and Scratchansniff (“Call me Scratchy,” he said) led them to the throne room. The double doors were opened by a pair of guards and they were announced.
The Warner siblings sat on their thrones, chatting with a beautiful blonde woman. They each wore golden crowns (the younger boy, Wakko, had shoved his crown on top of a red cap) but other than that they were dressed surprisingly casually. Dot wore a simple pink dress, Wakko wore a bright blue jumper and Yakko wore slacks, but with a long red cape thrown over his skinny shoulders.
And Max grinned.
I was right.
It was them, the toons from two years ago. The same trio of siblings, the ones who’d ran from the big guard. The very toons Max had helped escape.
“Oh, goodness,” Minnie whispered.
The Warners all perked up when they were announced, turning simultaneously to face their group with bright grins. Yakko stood up and his siblings quickly followed as he walked towards them. The blonde woman followed close at their heels.
“You look so much like your father,” Mickey said to Yakko. Yakko’s grin widened, his eyes bright. He gave a quick bow, but Mickey squeezed his shoulders, beaming at him.
“You wouldn’t remember us,” Mickey said gently. “But we were friends with your parents.”
“I know,” Yakko said. “Everyone says so.”
“It’s really good to meet you,” Dot said with a curtsy. Honestly, Max had to resist the urge to coo at her. Daisy didn’t; she outright aww’d.
Wakko held Yakko’s hand, his eyes flickering over them all.
He spotted Max. His jaw dropped.
“Yak,” he said, tugging sharply on Yakko’s cape. “Yakko, look!” He pointed directly at Max. Dot saw him and gasped, her hands pressed against her cheeks.
“Hm?” Yakko frowned slightly, but then he saw Max and grinned.
“It’s you!” he cried, pointing.
“It’s me,” Max said, rubbing the back of his neck. Everyone was staring and he felt increasingly awkward. “And, uh- guess it’s you?”
“Apparently,” Yakko said.
“Uh…” Goofy looked between them, scratching his head. “What’re we missing?”
“I- I kind of met them before,” Max admitted. “But I didn’t know it was them, I swear!” I just wondered. I just got a massive scare when I saw them.
“He helped us get away from Ralph,” Yakko said happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He’s a guard, used to work for old Saladbar. He was chasing us, said something stupid about bread tax.” Yakko rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “And this guy-” He jerked his thumb at Max. “Put his horse between us and Ralphy. Knocked him flat on his butt, it was great.”
“So we got away!” Wakko said. “And got to keep our bread. It was really tasty.”
“Thanks,” Yakko said to Max.
“It- it was nothing,” Max said. He forced himself to meet Yakko’s eyes and managed a genuine smile. “Least I could do.”
“The least you could have done would be ignoring it,” Yakko said, shaking his head. “But you didn’t.”
Mickey smiled at Max, eyes shining. Goofy ruffled his hair, looking proud and maybe even a little teary-eyed.
Max looked at Yakko. He stopped fidgeting and stood up straight, trying to smooth down his hair.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and Yakko smiled.
The coronation itself was beautiful, everything Max would have expected- and more. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a crowd look so happy, so relieved. Even back home, he didn’t think he’d ever heard people cheer so loudly.
Not that he could blame them. In their place, he’d be losing his mind with glee too.
The party had started almost as soon as the crown was placed on Yakko’s head and continued long into the night. Fireworks soared overhead, filling the sky with gold and blue sparks.
Max stood on the balcony, getting some much-needed fresh air. He could hear people cheering down in Acme Falls. From this vantage, he could see them dancing in the square. Some people had even climbed onto their roofs, waving sparklers.
“Max?”
He whirled around and came face to face with Yakko.
He wasn’t a particularly big kid and the heavy layers of blue and gold robes, not to mention the massive golden cape, only made him look even smaller. Yakko was only fourteen, but he stood like a king, chin up, proud.
And he looked unusually solemn. If there was one thing Max had quickly learned about him over the past day, it was that King Yakko was boisterous. He was loud and silly and rarely ever sat still.
“Your Majesty,” Max said, bowing.
Yakko’s nose scrunched up. “Ew,” he said. “Knock it off.” He gestured for Max to rise. “You really don’t need to do that.”
“Seems like you’ve earned it, if you ask me,” Max said. He stood up all the same.
“Not really,” Yakko said, biting his lip. He joined Max and hauled himself onto the balcony’s edge with ease, swinging his legs. “Dot and Wakko did everything.”
“From the sounds of it you wouldn’t have even reached that star if it wasn’t for you,” Max said firmly. “You did a lot of quick thinking and out-smarted Salazar.”
Yakko blinked at him, looking momentarily taken aback. Then he grinned, kicking his legs again, tilting his head back to watch the fireworks.
“Well, so long as we’re paying compliments,” he said. “I really want to thank you, for before.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Max said.
“Ralph would have caught us,” Yakko said. He stopped fidgeting and kicking, looking at Max. “He would have taken our food, and I didn’t have any money to buy anything else. We would have gone hungry all week.” He glanced back up at the sky. “You stopped that. So, thank you.”
Max stared at him. After a moment, he sat on the railing with Yakko, their hands brushing.
“Then you’re welcome,” he said. “I- I’m really glad you’re okay, Yakko. Everyone missed you guys.”
The idea seemed to baffle Yakko. He looked back to the ballroom, at all the dancers, the hundreds of guests, an unreadable expression on his face.
“I guess they did,” he said quietly.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the fireworks. Occasionally, Yakko would ask a question about Fantasia. Slowly, Max prompted him into telling the story of the Wishing Star.
It was bizarre. Here Max was, in Warnerstock, sitting with a not-so-dead prince. A king, a kid only a year younger than him.
Two years ago, everything about Warnerstock had made Max’s skin crawl. Now he was having fun.
A merry tune started inside and Yakko grinned, hopping off the railing with a flourish. He held his hand out to Max.
“Wanna dance?” he asked.
Smiling, Max jumped off the railing and took Yakko’s hand.
“Let’s go,” Max said.
Yakko pulled him back inside, into the middle of the dancefloor. The chandeliers glittered overhead; Wakko and Dot spun around together and Max could see Pinky jumping about. Nurse, the lovely blonde woman from before, pulled a blushing Scratchy into a dance.
And Max could see his own family; Mickey and Minnie, Donald and Daisy. His dad was dancing with a tall, thin dog-toon with short red hair.
“This is nuts,” Yakko admitted. “It’s insane.”
“It is,” Max agreed. Talk about a fairytale come to life.
The song slowed to a stop and a new one started. Max still had a hand on Yakko’s waist, Yakko still had his hands on his shoulders.
The little Warner king grinned at him.
“Wanna dance?” he asked.
Max returned his grin with ease. “Oh, I guess it’s the least I could do.”
Yakko laughed, head thrown back, thumping Max on the arm.
Max couldn’t believe he was here. Salazar was gone, Warnerstock was free- no doubt, Ticktockia was in chaos. The palace was beautiful, the people were happy. The Warners were alive; two of them were only a few steps away, one was in his arms.
And he wanted to be here.
If the Warner siblings could pull all this off in a few months, he couldn’t wait to see what they’d manage in a few years.
He said so, and Yakko grinned.
“Just you wait and see, Maxy. Just you wait.”
“Singing, long live all the mountains we moved. I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you. And long, long live that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders. One day, we will be remembered.” - Long Live, Taylor Swift