Anything
- An imagining of what happened after
Disney's The Princess and the Frog ended.
Disney's The Princess and the Frog ended.
The evening star is shining bright,
So make a wish and hold on tight.
There’s magic in the air tonight
And anything can happen.
That was what she’d been promised.
And, without doubt, that was what she got.
It’s just that no one had told her, while Tiana was busy building her fairytale—with her fancy restaurant, her handsome prince, and her dreams and hard work—that anything included a lot of things. Not all of which were what you’d wished for.
So here she was. Rich. Successful. In a dress not even her talented seamstress mother could have dreamed of. Skulking around the cemetery during the witching hour.
Where anything can happen.
Tiana stared at the large, extravagant tombstones towering over and around her, emblazoned with the names of folks who’d had more money than their mortal lives could spend. She reached out a hand to touch their stony attempt to take a bit of those riches with them.
Over to the other side.
She wondered if they’d succeeded.
Tiana knelt down on the ground and closed her eyes, thinking of the last time she’d been here. She remembered seeing Facilier—the Shadowman—dragged off into the night by beings beyond this world. Her heart still raced recalling the horror twisting his face into demonic features as the cost his venality caught up with him. Though the soil was smooth and untouched, she imagined that she could still see—could almost feel beneath her fingertips—the desperate claw of Facilier’s nails as he clung—furiously and futilely— to the hallowed ground while blood from his hands fed the earth.
More than amphibian transformations or true love’s kiss, watching the Shadowman swallowed up by this cemetery and his sins had changed her. Had altered her world. Irrevocably and forever. Even in her most restful, most fortunate moments—where life was more dream than reality—she couldn’t close her eyes, not even for the briefest blink of an eye, without seeing it.
In that moment, she’d sworn to the evening star, to whatever God would hear her, and to her dear Daddy’s soul to never—not ever—fall for such an unholy temptation. With Naveen at her side and her dreams in her heart, there was nothing in this world, or the next, that was worth that price.
Well, just look at her now. The fallen bayou princess looked up from the grave’s giving ground at the headstone in front of her and the frozen fear etched forever in stone on Facilier’s face.
How her world had changed.
Yes, her happily ever after had lasted long enough to see all her dreams—her Daddy’s and her Momma’s dreams—bloom like lilies from a swamp. Like magic from the mess of mortal living. She had married her prince, kissed her way into royalty. Together, they had bought and built her restaurant, turning it into the crown jewel of the Crescent City. And, for a time, it was heaven to wake up to her dreams of a good life in the Big Easy.
But their wedding flowers had hardly wilted before her no account, philandering, lazy, bump on a log husband’s customer hospitality had begun to stray outside the restaurant. Where his every tip came complete with a wink and a phone number. Where, bone-tired, she would come home after a late night at their restaurant to an empty house and an emptier bed.
Which was still better than what she’d walked in on tonight.
It’d been the first Mardi Gras Gala held at her restaurant; she’d been planning and fretting before planning some more for months to make tonight perfect. The kitchen was sparkling. The dining area was the epitome of elegance. The staff were prepped and ready. The menu, which she’d been subtly crafting since childhood, was a sublime feast. An edible love story that began with her father, moved through her, and finished with her very own happy ending with her frog prince. She’d worked tirelessly to make tonight a tribute to everything she was grateful for. To everything they’d found and fostered. To their fairytale.
Only to see—not two hours into the celebration—that same loathsome fear that was etched in stone in front of her carved on Naveen’s face as his gaze lifted to meet hers. While the half-dressed, masqueraded diner beneath him shrieked and squirmed, still trapped in his now less than amorous, petrified embrace.
It’d been that look—that same shame-ridden, fright-filled stare that had haunted her everyday—that had led her back here. To the place where evil almost took her fairytale from her.
Her heart hardened with resolve, though her hand wavered with the last shred of the woman she’d been before she’d stepped foot in this forsaken, sacred space, as she pulled the dead frog from her bag. Cold and slimy in her hand, it lay lifeless yet indignant as she pried its wide mouth open. Reaching again into her fancy, jewel-embroidered bag, she grabbed a tied velvet bag, the violet luxury soft against her skin. She pulled at the gold ties and poured rich soil into the palm of her hand.
Her heart broke as some of the dirt sifted through her fingers. Magic, she knew—better than most—came at a price. Tia thought that she could feel her Daddy’s soul in the earth of his grave. The unshakable love he’d had for her and her Momma. The love Tiana had thought she would know someday.
She knew better now the strength of unshakable.
Swallowing the price of her spell, she cupped her hand and let the dirt spill into the dead frog’s mouth like sand, filling the frog’s hollow belly. Her hand steadier now, she pulled out the last bit of her curse.
A wedding band, discarded on and stolen from the edge of her office desk. A forgotten treasure left for trash. To it was tied a lock of her husband’s hair.
They’d been happier as frogs. It was how they’d met. How they’d fallen in love. They’d once given up everything to stay that way. So long as they could stay together. Things would be better that way. She could give up being human to have her prince again. It was a price she was willing—was happy—to pay.
She clutched that ring in her hand and sighed.
She was almost there.
Tiana felt an inky chill shiver down her spine as a shadow crossed her back.
Are you ready, my friend? it asked her. Is this what your little heart desires?
She squeezed the frog in her hand.
Yes.
Ignoring the shadows that shifted from dark and unseen dens, swirling about her in eager unease, she slid the ring past the frog’s lips, set stiff with rigor, before bringing the frog up for a kiss.
At the press of lips, she felt it croak in her hands, an abrupt hiccup that jerked its dead frame to life. She lowered her hands and looked at the slippery creature in her hand. And, even through its panic, she saw her prince peering out behind those blinking eyes.
She choked on his name as she held him close to her chest, feeling her own change begin to build like a rapid beat in her heart.
Are you ready?
Yes.
Are you ready?
With all her heart.
Are you ready?
She was changing. Changing inside. Could feel it in her veins and bones.
I hope you’re satisfied.
A searing prick stabbed, making her chest heave as she lost her breath. Tiana’s eyes snapped open as she watched a small, smiling voodoo doll pull its pin like a saber out Naveen’s small, heaving back. Drawing a drop of her heart’s blood through his with savage glee.
With a vicious laugh through its sewn lips, the tiny doll jumped from Naveen’s back to disappear into the dark while its pin continued to hover in the night. Bile rose in Tiana’s throat as the pin’s green head pulsed and glowed. And grew. The small round head swelled into a macabre mock of a grinning face. She gasped as the pin’s needle bent and stretched, surging toward her before wrapping around her neck, securing the talisman—like a brand or a collar or a fist—around her throat.
Tiana felt it burn against the hollow of her throat, in the beat of her prince’s heart that echoed vaguely in the once-more stiff form in her hands.
She shut her eyes as her face fell, her hand lifting to touch the charged pendant hanging from her neck.
She had indeed sold her humanity trying to get back her soul, but the shadows on the other side had learned from their last deal. They couldn’t trust something so weak as a man to hold up his end of a bargain.
Feeling her lover’s life tick within the charm, Tiana understood the full cost of her curse. She would have to pay her profane pipers first, before she ever got her prize.
Bleak despair lowered her to the grave’s bed as she wondered how many souls made up the worth of a soul mate.
And whether the price was still worth paying.
She felt the wisp of a spectral hand brush her shoulder. She looked up at the shadow—a tall, thin figure that seemed to smile facelessly—as he handed her the Shadowman’s old hat. The dark ghost held out a familiar hand to lift her from the ground. C’mon, Tiana. The voice mixed with menace and hope. You’re almost there.
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