*-*-*

— Private Message [angry kitten princeling] —

[13:24] Charlie:

Hey Deanie could you give me a hand, please

[13:24] angry kitten princeling:

???

[13:24] Charlie:

We're in Princess P's rooms, come here?

I feel like she could use some help from elemental fire magic

I'd ask Sam but Princess P really doesn't wanna talk to him rn

[13:25] angry kitten princeling:

..................you want me. to come over there. and hug her. to warm her up.

[13:25] Charlie:

Please???

I know it's awkward but she's so cold

I got her to change into dry clothes and I gave her my heated cloak but she's still!! So cold!!

[13:26] angry kitten princeling:

.................................

Ughhguhgghghghghhggh

***

*Paige's P.O.V.*

Paige is cold.

Now that she's started to warm up again, she just—she can't stop shivering. Even bundled up under four blankets and a sweater, plus some thick socks, it's like there's no warmth in her body, and the layers can't trap and reflect heat if she isn't giving any off. Charlie's presence is helping, yes, but she's just so cold—

The door rattles. Paige jumps, startled and a little terrified because the reason she asked Charlie to lock it was 'what if Sam comes by?' and that was more of an irrational fear than anything because she knows Charlie asked Sam to stay away, but—

"Hey! Open up, Badbury!" Prince Campbell calls, irritable as ever, his voice muffled by the wood. "Why'd you tell me to come here and then lock the fucking door?"

Paige relaxes just a bit. Prince Campbell, she's discovered, is all bark and no bite, and Paige knows how to handle him now. She's still not feeling great, but Prince Campbell is a hundred times better than Sam.

"You called him over?" she hesitantly asks Charlie as she starts to extricate herself from the blanket pile, leaving Paige shivering again. "Why?"

"Because," she answers, heading for the door, "he's really good at elemental fire."

Paige's fuzzy, foggy brain takes a full second to figure out why elemental fire magic could be useful right now before she manages to dredge up the knowledge that 'oh, right, fire magic allows the user a great degree of control over their own core body temperature, among other things,' and Paige is freezing.

'Sam knows some elemental fire, too, even if he specializes in ice,' her treacherous brain reminds her, and she shudders involuntarily at the memory of the stricken look on Sam's face when Paige ran away from him earlier. How can she face him again after that?

By the time she pulls herself back to the present, Prince Campbell is in the room with her and Charlie is locking the door again. Paige blinks and looks up to see Prince Campbell staring down at her with blatant disapproval.

"Snap Pea," he greets curtly. "You're a fucking idiot for going out like this, you know that?"

"Deanie!" Charlie hisses, approaching with quick strides to smack the prince with a pillow scooped up from an armchair. He squawks indignantly and turns to glare at her, but she just crosses her arms and says pointedly, "Tact!"

"Shut up, Badbury!" Prince Campbell huffs, turning back to Paige. Without further ado, he peels the blanket cocoon away, and Paige tries her best to suppress a horrible shudder as the cooler air from the room sneaks its icy tendrils around her. Prince Campbell scowls. "I'm not doing this because I like you," he informs Paige and then plops down into Paige's lap like some kind of sullen, oversized teddy bear. Charlie tucks the blankets back around both of them with a look of unbridled relief.

Prince Campbell is a lot warmer than Charlie was, already, and Paige wraps her arms around him without really thinking about it. Prince Campbell lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," he mutters. "I should've done anything but fire if this is how I'm gonna be treated. What am I, some kind of fucking space heater?"

"We both know there's no way you would've been anything other than a fire specialist," Charlie laughs. She sinks down in the armchair she grabbed the pillow from, tucking her feet up next to her and glancing at her phone for a moment. Paige closes her eyes. She could fall asleep like this. She's still shivering, but not as bad anymore—Prince Campbell is putting out enough heat that it's slowly thawing the chill out of her bones.

"If you fall asleep on me, I will light you on fucking fire," Prince Campbell warns, crossing his arms. He leans back against Paige, though, and lays his head against her shoulder, still wearing a face like he's just been asked to donate both his kidneys. It's not as awkward as Paige thought it might be at first, and she's somewhat grateful for her smaller sized chest for once.

"Sure, that sounds nice," Paige mumbles, not really caring if she says it out loud or not. She's tired of pretending she doesn't have all these stupid thoughts, and pretending she's always fine, and ugh—she already had a massive meltdown in front of Sam, what does it matter if she says stupid things in front of the others? Besides, it could always be mistaken as I'm just really cold, please warm me up faster,' so...'

Prince Campbell whips around to stare at her incredulously. "The fuck is wrong with you? First, you try to kill yourself by freezing to death—dumb as shit idea, by the way, if you wanted to do that you should've done it yesterday, idiot—and now you're joking about getting lit on fire?"

Charlie snorts. "To be completely fair, Deanie," she says, "you did just joke about lighting her on fire."

"I said, shut up, you old bat," growls Prince Campbell, but his cheeks are kind of pink. "I wasn't talking to you."

'What isn't wrong with me?' Paige doesn't ask. It'll sound way too much like she's begging for attention, and she's not sure how the two of them would react but she knows she sure as hell doesn't want pity, so she can't say anything that might warrant it.

Instead, she just sighs, stuck, because while she's tired of not talking about anything, she's petrified when it comes to talking. How does she start? How does she explain it? It's practically impossible!

Unable to find the right words, she sinks into silence, upset and numb and internally berating herself all over again. Didn't Paige have years of damn speech training? Why is she still so bad at this? God, she feels almost physically ill from self-loathing—Paige should have taken care of this when she first got here, should never have pretended everything was fine, should have been reasonable and responsible and not a fucking idiot—

"Paige?" Charlie asks, cutting into her spiralling thoughts so suddenly that she actually jumps and smacks her chin against Prince Campbell's head.

"Hey!" The irate look sent her way makes her drop her eyes immediately.

"Sorry," Paige mumbles immediately.

"Paige, your phone is ringing," Charlie says more insistently. She pauses, leaning over to look at it, and adds, "It's... 'Homobipboa'?"

Paige stiffens. "I—I need to answer," she says, and starts to lean over to grab it from the coffee table, except that that's quite an endeavour when Prince Campbell is sitting against her chest and they're both wrapped up in four blankets and therefore have rather limited mobility.

"You're gonna make us both fall, you dumbass!" Prince Campbell cries, shoving her back toward the cushions. "I'll get it, here," and he sticks his arm out of the blankets, leaving Paige to hold onto him so he doesn't fall when he grabs for the phone, just barely out of reach.

He manages to get it before Paige starts seriously worrying it's been ringing long enough that Bela will hang up or leave a voicemail, and passes it over with a roll of his eyes.

Paige answers immediately. "Hi," she mumbles, barely there.

A sigh of relief answers her. "Hey," Bela says. "I'm so sorry I didn't answer your call earlier, Paige, I was out with the shadow guild and—you know how that is, but I'm still really sorry. How are you now? What happened?"

Anxiety lurches again in the pit of Paige's stomach. She's afraid. It's like—it's like the act of telling Bela what happened will make it even more real, will throw her further into the terrifying uncertainty of not knowing how much she offended Sam by running away after yelling at him, of not knowing if she's just ruined the alliance by being so... so...

"Paige?" Bela prompts.

"I did something stupid," she breathes. "Something really stupid. I—I can't talk about it right now, though."

"Can't?" Bela asks, focusing on that one word, unfortunate as it is. Paige frantically looks around the room to remind herself to breathe again. "Are you with people or something?"

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah. Can't talk."

"That's okay," Bela reassures. "It's okay. We can talk about it later if you want, okay? Don't stress."

"Did you just tell me not to stress?" Paige deadpans, wondering if the laughter in her chest is hysterical. It's probably a little bit hysterical. "I don't think it works like that, Bela."

Bela sighs the long-suffering sigh of a best friend who puts up with too many self-deprecating jokes and answers, "Well, okay, it's one less thing for you to stress about, Miss Walking Talking Stress Ball."

"Thank you," Paige says. "That's my official title. I don't know anything about princesses."

"Hilarious," Bela agrees. "Anyway. Are you okay?"

"Not really," Paige answers, simultaneously too anxious and too exhausted to bother lying. "No. I'm not. But I—I can't talk right now, okay? Not about that. Actually, I think... I think I need to talk to Sam. I just—I can't. I..."

Oh, fuck, she's about to cry on the phone, just hearing her best friend's voice after all the bullshit of today. Oh, fuck, she's seriously on the verge of tears again—no, no, no, she can't break down again, especially not in front of Charlie and Prince Campbell!

"I should go," Paige tells Bela, woodenly, hating herself. "I can't talk right now."

"Okay," Bela says gently. "It's gonna be okay, Paige. If you need me, I'll be here. I'm not going out for the rest of tonight, and I'll leave my phone on loud, and if you need me, I'll be right here. If you have to go now, that's fine, I don't want you to feel bad for it, yeah?"

"I love you," Paige chokes out, swallowing a sob and blinking back tears. "I love you so much!"

"I love you too," Bela assures her. "Do you want me to stay on the line?"

"I—I do, but I can't," Paige says desperately. "If I keep talking I'll cry again and I can't right now, I need to get my head back in order so I can talk to him later, I can't cry until after that!"

"That's fine, Paige!" Bela exclaims. "If you're not in a place where it's okay to talk, then we can talk later. Don't feel bad about it, it's fine. You can call me as soon as you finish talking to him if that's what helps."

"I'll do that," Paige promises. "I'll... I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Bela says. "Bye, Paige!"

"Bye," Paige whispers and drops the phone to the couch. Bela can end the call. She can't bring herself to do it.

When Paige looks up again, Charlie is looking at her with open concern. Prince Campbell is frowning, but that might be concern, too.

"Um," she says, awkward and unsure and confused. "Sorry about that."

"Paige," Charlie begins, then stops, as if she's also awkward and unsure and confused. "I... I don't really know what's going on, but... is there anything we can do to help?"

Paige's immediate, knee-jerk reaction is to shut that down and say no, I'm fine. The problem is, she's exhausted and she doesn't want to keep pretending that she's fine.

"I don't know," Paige says instead, useless as ever. "I... just need to calm down, that's all."

"What the hell happened?" Prince Campbell asks eyes narrowed as he twists around to peer up at Paige. It's a little shocking, how pretty Dean looks both for being a teenager and being angry all of the time. "I thought you were smarter than to go out when it's below freezing with only one goddamn sweater on."

Paige shrugs listlessly. "I panicked and didn't really think about it," she says after a moment. "I know it was stupid."

"Well, why'd you panic?" Prince Campbell persists. Paige stiffens. It really is odd, the pouty lips and wide, stark green eyes of the teen sitting on her really makes him both look older than he is and younger at the same time. He really is adorable and also asking a question.

"Dean," Charlie hisses. "If she doesn't want to talk about it, don't make her!"

"I—maybe I can tell you later," Paige tries, biting her lip. She squeezes her eyes shut and takes deep breaths—in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four—and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I just—I can't talk about it right now. I can't."

"That's okay!" Charlie says quickly, waving her hands. "You don't have to! It's fine! Here, do you want me to reheat that hot chocolate for you? Or maybe I should make tea? Tea is calming! And I can get a movie going if that would help, something nice and distracting? Only if you want it though?"

She's trying, she really is, and Paige appreciates that more than she can say right now. Gratitude overwhelms her, makes tears well up in the corners of her eyes all over again. She blinks them away, again, because there's no need for them and Paige's pretty sure if she breaks down crying over one thing, she'll end up crying over everything.

"I—I would appreciate the hot chocolate," she says thickly, and Prince Campbell lets out a loud, contemptuous sigh. "And a movie would—that would be nice. Thank you very much, you're very kind."

"Of course, it's no problem!" Charlie assures her, relief evident in her face as she gets up to go find a heating charm. "I'm just glad to help. It's what friends are for!"

"Yeah," Paige agrees quietly, so quietly Charlie probably doesn't hear her. Prince Campbell sighs again, and Paige mumbles a 'Thank you' to him.

"Don't mention it," he answers, and then pauses, twisting around to look up at Paige with a frown. "And I mean that. This never happened, Snap Pea."

A flicker of a smile tugs at Paige's lips for a fleeting moment. "Of course not."

Prince Campbell nods once and settles back more comfortably against Paige's shoulder. "Good," he says, then adds a little more hesitant, "You know, you're not as terrible as I first thought you would be."

And this must be the Prince Dean Campbell brand of comfort in times of emotional crisis. 'You're not as terrible,' the prince says, of course leaving room to imply that Paige still is somewhat terrible, because unbridled affection would be unseemly. Or something. But that implication, bizarrely, doesn't make Paige feel worse. It just makes her want to laugh. Maybe it's the hysteria coming back again?

"Thank you," she says again, Paige's voice firmer and further from tears than before. There's even almost a wry note in it, which she has to admit surprises her a little. She wasn't sure she could manage actual amusement on top of everything else. "I am incredibly flattered."

"Yeah, well, don't expect me to remind you often," Prince Campbell huffs. "I didn't say you're great or anything. Just that you're not as shitty as you could have been. That's all. Don't let it go to your head, stupid."

"Deanie, will you ever learn actual manners?" Charlie asks from the other side of the room, where she is dropping the charm into Paige's cocoa mug.

"Shut up, Badbury," Prince Campbell calls back without even looking up as if it's his default response to anything she says. After knowing the two of them this long, Paige's inclined to think it actually is.

"I take that as a no," she says with a sigh, shaking her head in mock disapproval. The teasing lilt in her voice fades, though, when she looks back to the two of them and asks, "So what kind of movie should we watch?"

"Action," Prince Campbell says immediately. "One of those spy thrillers where a lot of shit blows up, I like those."

"I was asking Paige," Charlie scolds him as she comes back to the couches, with a mug of steaming, enticing chocolate in hand. She passes it to Paige, who notes with relief that it certainly seems a lot easier to drink than before, no matter how well-intentioned that was. "Do you want to watch one of those action movies?"

Paige hesitates. "Um... not really..."

Prince Campbell lets out a long-suffering sigh. "So I'm the space heater and I have to suffer through whatever shitty movie you guys pick?"

"Deanie," Charlie says. "Hush."

"You can't hush me, I don't have to listen to you."

"I know a good movie," Paige interrupts quietly, staring down into the mug instead of looking at either of them. "It's Pandorian. I... it's one of my favourites. If that's okay?"

"Of course!" Charlie chirps, going to the TV on the wall. "What's it called?"

That's how Paige finds herself watching one of her childhood favourite movies with two Ruritanians, curled up on a couch with hot chocolate and her slowly declining anxiety. This is nice, she thinks. This is... it's good. It feels solid.

Perhaps she will be able to face Sam soon.

*-*-*

[12:39] Sam:

Paige???

[12:41] Sam:

Paige I don't know what just happened but please just tell me you're alright

I'm worried

[Missed call from Sam]

[12:44] Sam:

Why aren't you answering any calls?

[12:49] Sam:

Paige please talk to me

Are you okay?

[Missed call from Sam]

[Missed call from Sam]

[12:53] Sam:

Please come inside, I'm afraid you're going to get hurt

[12:59] Sam:

?

[Missed call from Sam]

[13:04] Sam:

Paige, please

[21:52] Paige:

Hi

[21:52] Sam:

Hi.

[21:53] Paige:

I'm really sorry for earlier

I'm in my rooms. Can we talk?

[21:53] Sam:

I'm on my way.