Warnings: mentions of previous canon character death
Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck or any related character. That all belongs to Disney. Making no money here.
Author's Note: This is the first in a series of one-shots that I'm envisioning. I'm gonna call this series "The Queen of St. Canard." This was written for both hc-bingo-for the square, fobidden love-and darkpathsbang 2018.


A Whim of Fate

Gosalyn was sure that life was supposed to have turned out differently for her. She was supposed to, after being adopted by St. Canard's own hero, grow up to become one herself, under her father's watchful eye and tutelage. Well, half of that was right. But things had gone a tad awry.

Sometime around her friend's, Honker Muddlefoot, tenth birthday, her father had gone into an alternate dimension—one that was not only the home of, but ruled by the notorious Negaduck, her father's evil doppelganger. He worked with those he found there to improve the world known as the Negaverse. Negaduck, well and truly pissed, managed to follow Darkwing through into the hero's home dimension, despite Darkwing having pulled the Universal Plug. Negaduck was now blocked from ever returning to his home world and aimed to make Darkwing pay for it. And, in a rather short amount of time, he did. Nearly a year and a half later to the day, what was now known as The Final Battle took place atop St. Canard's highest skyscraper. To everyone's surprise, Darkwing lost. Negaduck killed his foe, destroyed Gizmoduck, and lost no more time in making this St. Canard look like his lost Negaverse's St. Canard.

Years passed. Gosalyn grew up. She trained in those years, and became the Quiverwing Quack. She led a group of rebels against Negaduck's chaotic and tyrannical rule. She had lost her father at eleven and a half years old… and now, at twenty and a half, she was making an almost rookie mistake.

She had gotten a tip on a particular gang of Negaduck's lower-level thugs planning to round up new players in some game they had devised for their Lord's amusement. Gosalyn had heard a lot of rumors of what those games entailed but didn't know what was fact and what was fiction. Only one thing was for certain; it was nothing good. It was a small number of thugs, only three, so she had forgone backup. That had been her mistake—one she preached about. Don't do anything without backup. But she had. And then there had been more… closer to ten. She had been spotted, and now she was running.

She was in St. Canard's downtown, which had been in poor repair when the city was under lawful rule. Now, it was a shamble. She would prefer to take to the rooftops, but their integrity was questionable. She couldn't afford to have one collapse underneath her, possibly trapping her. So, she ran on ground level, ducking and dodging gunfire. She was now three blocks away from the point where she had been spotted, and she had yet to shake her pursuers. She was tiring, and fast. She ducked down behind a long-abandoned car, sticking her head out just long enough to fire off an arrow—one that would create a cloud of smoke. Anything to buy her an advantage. If—no, when—she made it back to HQ, Honker would never let her live this down.

Her arrow landed in the middle of the street, and she could hear the tell-tale coughing of some of the thugs. But not enough of them. She growled a bit, shoving off the car and hauling it farther down the street. She was almost to the corner, and just a few more blocks until she could begin to trust the rooftops again. If she could make it until she could get elevated, she would be home free. Like a second wind, she booked it as hard as possible toward her goal. A moment too late, she saw the large thug step out from around the corner. She dug her heels in the pavement to avoid colliding with the large, beefed-up dog. She reached behind her back into her quiver, thinking to grab the first arrow she found there. Something was better than nothing. But, despite his large size, the brown and black man was faster. He brought his ham hock of a fist down toward her head, and the next thing Gosalyn—or the purple and green clad Quiverwing Quack, as these thugs would see her as—saw was a bright burst of white light and then blackness.

#

She had no idea how long she had been out. But when she came to, she was still surrounded by darkness. She could feel the rough cloth of a bag—probably a burlap one—pulled over her head. She could also feel the tight grip of her mask on her face. That was something. They hadn't immediately unmasked her. Her arms were bound at the wrists behind her back, and her legs at the ankle, and she was thrown over someone's very large shoulder. Beyond the bag, she could hear the loud sounds of what sounded like a party. There was cheering, music, and yelling. The person who had her—the thug that knocked her out, she was guessing—was barely moving. Every so often, he'd shuffle forward a couple of paces and then stop. He was in line. But for what?

"Next!" a voice bellowed.

Gosalyn blinked. Even muffled through burlap, that voice sounded familiar. Her captor shuffled forward some more. The music drowned out anything else, save for when the voice yelled, "Next!" once more. Something about that voice bothered her. As her captor moved closer and closer to it, she began to realize why. Finally, it appeared they were near the front of the line, because she could finally hear snatches of conversation with the voice.

"Useless," he grumbled. "I have all the gold I could want. Why would I want a single coin?"

"B-but it's Scrooge's Number One Dime!" a whining voice said.

Gosalyn scoffed under her breath. No, it most assuredly was not. Being McDuck's personal secretary meant that she knew that dime was safe and sound.

"You were fooled. And now, your stupidity has wasted my time. Into the dungeon."

"No," the wimpy voice protested. "No, please!"

"Next!"

That time, Gosalyn knew she knew that voice. The thug that held her moved forward and given the rumbling in his chest and the volume of his voice, Gosalyn knew he was at the front of the line.

"My Lord Negaduck, as a gift to commemorate the defeat of Darkwing Duck, I offer you this."

Gosalyn felt her body be lifted and unceremoniously dropped until her rump collided with a very solid floor. She let out a hard "oomph" when she hit. Then, the bag was torn from her head, and she blinked against the light. A chorus of gasps filled the room and the music stopped.

"I have caught, for you, the Quiverwing Quack!"

Gosalyn ignored the thug, instead turning toward the person he addressed. Still wearing his signature crimson, yellow, and black suit and seated upon a throne—an honest to God throne—was Negaduck. The room, as Gosalyn was now seeing, was filled to the brim with the worst of the worst and their henchmen and whatever thugs had made their way to this party. Judging by what she could see out of the little bit of window she could peek of in the distance, they were in the central skyscraper of St. Canard—the one her father had died on and Negaduck's center of command. She turned, looking up at Negaduck, who had scooted forward until he sat on the edge of his seat. His dark eyes were locked upon her. He shoved himself to his feet and stalked down the small dais to where she sat.

She wanted to stand. She wanted to fight. But she was bound, captured. She was the leader of the resistance. She knew what was coming—her death, likely by chainsaw.

"Unmask her!" cried a voice from the back, followed by a cheer.

The crowd began to chant it over and over, and Gosalyn's heart thudded in her chest. She was Scrooge McDuck's secretary, and a well-known face because of it. The entire resistance would crumble if her identity were revealed. Meanwhile, Negaduck glared down upon her. Then, he straightened, glaring out at the crowd.

"Do any of you knobs think you are worthy of knowing who she really is?" he asked.

There was no reply. In a room that was once deafeningly loud, now a pin could be heard if dropped. Negaduck stooped, grabbed the ropes that bound her wrists, and addressed the crowd again.

"The lady and I have much to discuss. Enjoy the party," he said, turning toward the back of the large room.

"B-but, sir, I brought her…" the large thug said as Negaduck began to drag her toward a door behind his throne.

The Mallard Menace stopped. He turned, grinning at the thug. "Yes, Domino. Good boy."

Negaduck resumed dragging her until he reached a door. He kicked it open, dragged her inside, and slammed it shut behind them. It wasn't a small room they were in, just smaller than the previous one. It had no windows, though Gosalyn suspected this was a change made after Negaduck's take-over. On the far wall was a large, messy four-poster bed, and Gosalyn was suddenly aware of the whoops and cheers that were happening outside of the door. Her breathing stopped as she feared the worst. However, Negaduck dragged her over to a pair of sofas that set just in front of the bed, facing one another with a small, round coffee table set between them. He tossed her on the one to the left while he moved toward a small cabinet behind the one on the right. Gosalyn righted herself in the seat as best she could, working furiously to see if she could reach the knot of the ropes on her wrist to untie it. The tinkling sound of glass caught her attention and she looked up as Negaduck put away a large decanter of some sort of alcohol. He turned and grinned mirthlessly at her.

"Don't try it. You don't have any weapons—the smartest thing Domino has ever done, mind you. There're hundreds if not more of my most loyal followers between here and the ground floor. You'd be dead in seconds. So… relax."

He walked around the sofas, setting two glasses about half-full of an amber liquid, down on the table. He grabbed one of her arms and turned her until he could reach her hands easily. In moments, the ropes on her wrists were undone. She rubbed at them as he grabbed up one of the glasses and held it out to her.

She eyed it and him. "You're crazy. I'm not drinking that."

He laughed. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. It's not poisoned. Take it."

He leaned in to her, putting his beak close to her ear. He reached up with his free hand and simultaneously, she felt her mask untie as he whispered, "Gosalyn."

She gasped, and he pulled away. She watched her mask flutter uselessly to her lap. Negaduck was still looming over her, one of the glasses still held out. She stared, wide-eyed, up at him.

"You knew?" she asked.

He shrugged and shook the glass at her once more. She pursed her beak together, a little heat of a blush beginning to color the white feathers of her cheeks. She averted her gaze, just a bit.

"I, um, I'm not old enough," she muttered.

At this, he threw back his head and guffawed. When he had caught his breath, he shoved the thick tumbler glass into one of her hands, and she reflexively wrapped her fingers around it. He made his way over to the other sofa, plopping down into a slouch that somehow managed to not spill a drop of his drink. He turned up the tumbler, looking for all the world like he was gonna down the amber contents within, but he didn't. When the glass was righted again, only a drink of it was missing. He looked over at her, arching a brow. Gosalyn glanced down at the drink in her hands, and she noted that her legs were still tied. Holding the glass in her left hand, she reached down and tugged at the knot in the ropes with her right. She glanced up at Negaduck, waiting to see if he intended to stop her. He looked impatient, so she tugged, and the ropes fell away. Her free hand returned not to her drink but to her mask. She held it limply in her hand, eyeing it.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"A while. Since you first turned up," he answered.

She blinked, surprised. She hadn't expected a direct answer. He eyed her drink again, and she finally put it to her beak. She turned it up, just enough to catch a sip, and that alone was enough to choke her. He chuckled.

"You never fail to surprise me," he chuckled.

She set the glass on the table in front of her, leaning back to cross her arms over her chest. She glared at the duck across from her.

"How much do you know about me, exactly?"

"Everything, Gos. Once I figured out that Dipwing and I shared more than our good looks, it was all too easy to put together."

She dropped her hands into her laps, squeezing them into fists. "Don't call me that. Don't call him that."

"Hmm. Fine. Once I found all of that out, it was easy. Did he ever tell you about that little, unauthorized trip he took into my homeworld?"

"A little."

Actually, Darkwing had told her everything. He had mentioned the evil Muddlefoots—save for Tank—the curls and pink frills Gosalyn who was Negaduck's ward, the Friendly Four, all of it. He had always said that while he might have trapped his world with Negaduck, at least he had freed the Negaverse from him. He was also always quick to add that while Darkwing Duck was around, Negaduck would never be victorious.

Well… her father wasn't a liar.

"Once I figured out that my doppelganger shared almost exactly my same life, I decided to dig deeper. You have no idea how cosmically unfair the universe is, Gosalyn," Negaduck said, leaning forward in his seat.

"Do tell," she deadpanned.

"Here I had, in my homeworld, this namby-pamby goody two shoes Gosalyn that I got landed with all because I wanted some invention her grandpappy cooked up—that turned out to be a total bust, by the way—while Darkwing had you."

Gosalyn's gaze narrowed. There was a lot to unpack in that statement. She wasn't even sure where to start. She decided, after a moment, to start with the less obvious bait.

"The Waddlemeyer Ramrod? It existed in your dimension too?"

He eyed her, obviously taken aback. This was not the thing she was supposed to have latched on to. Gosalyn had learned a lot about crimefighting from watching Darkwing, and a fair bit while being on her own. Body language was important. Negaduck had wanted her to comment on the fact that she was supposedly the superior Gosalyn. He was trying to feed her ego. So, while she was curious about her look alike, she would ignore it for now. All in due time. She wanted to know more about the family her doppelganger had had in this other world.

"I take it they died, like mine did—my parents and my grandfather. You said you dug into us… meaning me too, I take it. How similar were the deaths and the reasons behind them?"

Negaduck took another swig of his drink, never taking his eyes off her. He leaned back in his seat, sighing.

"Close, with subtle differences. First off, your grandpa wasn't the sole inventor of the Ramrod… your dad—your real one—worked pretty closely with him. He and your mom died in a car wreck… close to what happened here."

"Train wreck… here," Gosalyn whispered, and Negaduck nodded.

"And then your grandfather's so-called accident was caused by Bulba, wanting the Ramrod here. In my world… I caused it."

Gosalyn felt her whole body go stiff, and her beak curled into a snarl. "You?"

The Mallard Menace held up a plaintive hand. "There, Gosalyn. There I caused it. Like I said, I had nothing to do with your grandfather's death. That was Bulba, like you and him always thought."

"But you would have, if you had been here!"

She fought to keep control. Control was important. It was part of every early lesson when it came to being a vigilante. But she was also pretty sure control had flown the coop about the same time she had gotten caught. Negaduck shrugged off her anger again, and it took every last strand of control to keep herself from launching over the coffee table and throttling the villain.

"Would-a, could-a, should-a. You know that's not the same as did. But, as it was, I got the Ramrod, but my Gosalyn was too stupid to remember the code her grandfather had tried to teach her. So, I got saddled with the kid."

He muttered the word "useless" as he took another drink. Gosalyn, meanwhile, was trying to get her body to relax, even if it was just by a hair. Her back was beginning to ache she was holding it so stiffly.

"Why didn't you just kill her?" she asked.

She didn't like the gleam in the villain's eye as he smiled at her. There was the smallest of upturns at the corners of his beak, as if she was a pet learning a new trick. It angered her… and it scared the living daylights out of her.

"Oh, I thought about it," he mused. "Thought about it every day. But then… Kids are useful, sometimes. They can get into places and hear things that grown-ups don't think twice about saying in front of them. And hey, why not? They're just a dumb kid, right? So… she earned her keep."

She felt instantly sorry for her counterpart in this other world. Gosalyn remembered being angry for a long time at Darkwing for pulling that plug, for being the reason that Negaduck was trapped in their world instead of his own. But… after hearing this… At least this other Gosalyn was free. And, to a point, her dad had been right. This St. Canard could handle Negaduck… They would overcome. She grabbed her drink off the table and sipped at it, fighting every muscle in her face to keep from pulling a face at its burn as it slithered its way down her throat. Negaduck finished his off in the next swallow.

"You should have been mine," he said.

The statement was a simple one, but it made Gosalyn instantly wish she was anywhere but here. Anywhere. There was a predatory gleam in the villain's eyes as he sat forward in his seat. Gosalyn leaned back, pressing against the sofa. She felt cold, and, despite clearly being a prisoner for the last several minutes, she was finally starting to understand the implications of that. Negaduck stood and moved around the coffee table until he was standing over her. He made no other moves, simply to stare down at her. For a long while, neither of them spoke. Finally, Gosalyn couldn't take the silence any longer.

"H-How do you figure?" she inquired.

He grinned, and it reminded her of the images of smiling skulls she used to see around Morgana's house. Morgana, who had vanished shortly after Darkwing had died. But that was definitely a future-Gosalyn problem, and she would have to let her deal with that. Right now, the greatest villain the city had ever seen was smiling at her.

"You are the opposite of the Gosalyn I got landed with in almost every way. You're crude and rude. You're tough. You don't bow or give in without a fight. How many times were you there when I took on your dad here? How many times were you really afraid?"

"Every time," Gosalyn whispered.

He paused, taken aback. Apparently, he had not expected honesty. But she was weaponless, and Negaduck was right about her not being dead yet… if he had wanted her gone, she'd be gone. He let out a small "hmm" and took just the barest of steps back, considering her. So far—and, tragically, not so differently from her father—it seemed that if she kept him talking, she was safest.

"You terrified me. You were sadistic. You wanted nothing but chaos and destruction. You were like… like a natural disaster. No real grand reason to your actions. You just existed to exist."

The silence that followed was like a void, like some great chasm had opened beneath her feet. Then, unbelievably, Negaduck threw back his head and laughed. Gosalyn fought against jumping, proud that she remained as still as stone in her seat. Fluidly, Negaduck slid into the seat next to hers. He threw one arm across the back of the sofa, behind her, and leaned into her space. She had a feeling that pulling away might read as an insult, and she would love to do nothing but hurl insults at the person who had cost her her second family. But she was playing by his rules with absolutely nothing to her advantage. She was at the top of a skyscraper with none of her arrows or her bow. Her cape had been emptied. That Domino thug had even found her buzzsaw buttons on her fingerless gloves. She was completely helpless. Sure, she had her feet and fists… but she wouldn't stand a chance against the horde of villains and thugs outside the door. So she sat, stock still, and stared into Negaduck's dark eyes.

"I knew it was you," he whispered, his breath hot on her face. "I remember. I remember seeing you as a kid, fighting alongside him in the same costume… or, the child's version of it, anyway. Quiverwing Quack. When you resurfaced… I knew."

He snapped his fingers, and this time, Gosalyn did jump. He grinned and tilted his head to the right, indicating some space behind them. She turned, slowly, and saw a television she had not noticed before hanging on the far wall behind her. There was an image frozen on it—it looked like a slideshow had been stopped on a single picture. Gosalyn knew the image. She had seen it countless times on countless news shows. It was her, but as she was now—as Quiverwing—standing, triumphant, amongst some fallen rubble. It was her first outing as an adult crimefighter… her first victory against Negaduck. To this day, she still had no idea where the reporter was that snapped the picture… or if one of her own did it and gave it to the press.

"I was so bored, Gosalyn," Negaduck said, drawing her attention back to the villain. He was even closer to her, if that was possible. "So bored. I had won. You're right. I crave destruction. Chaos. Fun. I knew I didn't have the resources to go outside of St. Canard, or at least, not yet. So I was stuck, in this city, ruling it. I was so close to tearing it all apart… and then you appeared."

Gosalyn's heart stopped.

"You appeared, and I knew you. I remembered. I watched you fight, from that moment on. Watched the give and take of our two forces. And, suddenly, I understood. I knew why it was that Fate—or whatever garbage you might believe in—trapped me in this bright and sunny world of hope. You. Join me, Gosalyn."

She swallowed, hard. "You've made me this offer before."

"I have. But not in years."

"What makes this offer different?"

Negaduck's answer was the last thing Gosalyn expected. In a flash, he closed the small distance between them, pressing his beak to hers in a rough, deep, and harsh kiss. Her cry of alarm was muffled, needless to say. The shock of it wore off momentarily as she placed her hands on his chest, shoving off him. She launched to her feet, horrified.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

He stood, moving toward her. "You can't deny the similarities between us. The way we… run our respective camps, so to speak."

She snarled. "I'm nothing like you!"

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not a murderer!"

He grinned, wagging a finger at her. "Liar, liar. You've killed plenty of my men."

Her eyes flashed. "That's different! You kill because you enjoy it! I kill to survive! To make sure those I care about survive! You're a monster!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm, tight. For a split second, she thought that she might have finally crossed whatever crazy line had existed during this conversation. He tugged her close, and Gosalyn found herself wondering again about those whoops and hollers she had heard several minutes earlier, when she had first been brought in. Her gaze slipped to the side to eye the messy bed before returning to the villain that held her. He shook his head.

"Like calls to like, Gosalyn. You may not see it now, but you will. You're mine now. You're never leaving this building… Not until you realize the truth."

She had pretty much been scared this entire time. It was something her father had told her once, when she had pestered him about it. He had admitted to her, and only her, that yes, of course he was scared. Every time he went out to protect the city, he was afraid. But that's what bravery was, acting in spite of fear. Gosalyn, like her father had been, was scared every time she led a mission for the rebels. She was no stranger to fear.

But this… being held like this by Negaduck, in the room she was in, in the situation she was in… now, she was terrified. And that was a new feeling. The rebels had no idea where she was, she was sure of that. And, even if they did, they were in no way prepared to extract anybody from Negaduck's personal stronghold. She was well and truly trapped.

Apparently, the source of her fear was clear on her face. Negaduck grinned and shoved her back down on the sofa.

"You're right. I am a monster… but there are certain things I value. Certain… victories."

She snarled at him as he flitted a suggestive glance toward the bed. She shook her head. "You won't win."

He chuckled. "I rule this city like a king. Soon, and with you at my side, I'll be running this whole world. One day—maybe sooner, maybe later—you'll take your place as my queen, both by my side and in my bed. I want no other, and I will have no other. Congratulations, kid. You've done something no other person in either this world or the Negaverse has ever done." He stooped forward and cupped her chin in his hand. "Black as it may be, you've won my heart."

She jerked her head away from him, her heart beating ninety miles an hour. He laughed and reached forward, plucking her mask up. He tossed it to her, and she caught it in one hand.

"Put it back on," he ordered.

She glared at him, unmoving. He arched a brow at her.

"Your identity is my secret. It's my weapon. So, unless you've already given up, put your mask on."

He punctuated this with by putting his thumb and middle finger to his beak and letting out an impossibly loud and shrill whistle. Gosalyn blinked and quickly lifted the mask, tying it just in time for the door to burst open. Three nameless thugs were practically falling over one another to be the first to respond to Negaduck's summons.

"Tie her to that chair," Negaduck growled, indicating a chair in the back-left corner of the room. "She'll be with us for a while."

The three responded with quick "yessirs" and moved to grab Gosalyn. She lost no time, leaping up and over their heads. She moved toward the now unoccupied door, figuring that now was the best—and maybe only—chance for escape she was likely to get. She made it just to the threshold of the door when a powerful, electric shock rocked her body. She cried out and crumpled to the floor. She groaned as three sets of hands grabbed her up and pulled her to the chair. Her arms and legs felt like jelly, and try as she might, she could offer no resistance to the thugs as they bound her, tightly, to the chair. In fact, the ropes seemed to hold her just short of cutting of her circulation.

"Excellent. Get out," Negaduck barked.

Again, it was like a bad comedy act the way they fell over one another to exit the room. They did so, though, slamming the door shut behind them as they went. Negaduck smiled, gesturing toward the door.

"Like that little treat? Had Megavolt install it for me. Guy's a total idiot, but he does know his electricity."

Negaduck grabbed up his tumbler glass and moved back over to the liquor cabinet. He refilled his glass and took a thoughtful sip before sauntering over to where Gosalyn was bound.

"You'll see things my way. I know you will. You're the only one, Gos. You're the only one worthy enough to conquer the world with me. My queen."

She glowered at him, the feeling just now returning to her arms and legs. Her fingers tingled. "Go to hell."

He took another sip of his drink, chuckling. "Get comfy, Gosalyn. You're going to be here forever. You'll see. In the end, I'll win. And then… then you'll get to be the you that you were always meant to be… the you that Dipwing never let you be."

She struggled against the ropes, growling like a rabid animal. "Don't call him that! Don't ever make fun of him! Never!"

Her father's devious double grinned at her. "Oh, Gosalyn, my dearest girl. This is only the beginning."

With that, he downed his drink. He hurled the glass against the far wall, shattering it. Then, without another word, he stalked his way over to the bedroom's door and threw it open. He was met by raucous cheers. He pulled the door shut behind him when he left. And Gosalyn was left there, tied to a chair, struggling in vain, weaponless, and alone. So Negaduck thought he could win her over? That she'd blacken her heart to match his? No, she would never. But she could destroy his empire from the inside out. He was absolutely right when it came to just one regard.

This was only the beginning.