Caspian X (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_seafarer) wrote2013-02-21 11:23 pm
the_seafarer) wrote2013-02-21 11:23 pm
Entry tags:
The Frog Prince, or: Kate Was Right All Along
The world is larger now.
Not just larger; taller, stranger. Everything caught in odd angles, flat and imposing. Blades of grass tower over him, ants the size of small dogs bump into his feet, and he startles --
Sending the world into a spinning, alarmed leap. A blink, and everything has shifted; he might be miles from the door, for all he can tell the difference.
The tea. It could only have been the tea. There was a splash of warmth, and his shirt soaked in a crooked strip, and deep violet plumes of choking smoke, and then everything grew horribly large and strange. Could it? Truly, there have been times when he'd been warned off food or drink in this place in the past, but he'd always felt tea would never betray him in such a fashion.
It appears Milliways is not yet through with surprising him.
Be that as it may, he cannot continue in this fashion. Large eyes blink, bewildered, at the green, long-fingered hand replacing his own; he attempts to edge towards his right and finds himself catapulted into the rough wood of the back step. A twitch forward sends him sailing in an arc that turns steadily less graceful as he tumbles back into the ground, heart thrumming a panicked pace somewhere nowhere near his usual steady beat.
There must be a way to reverse this spell, whatever it is. A wizard, perchance, or sorcerer, if he can find one -- but any attempt to move back into the bar proper would result in a scramble to keep from being trod upon, and in his present state, he can hardly call for help, or draw attention to himself.
He sits, for a moment, shivering in a clump of tall grass, flips into a bewildered cut of a half-leap at a bugling call sounding nearby, a sharp whinny that freezes him into a shell he cannot seem to break from for a lifetime's worth of worried breaths and buzzing pulse.
The horses. The stables. Possibly, there, he might find aid -- there are fewer feet to trample him, when the horses are in the stalls, and the place is peaceful enough he might find a moment to think, or plan.
It has simply never seemed such a very insurmountable distance, before.
Not just larger; taller, stranger. Everything caught in odd angles, flat and imposing. Blades of grass tower over him, ants the size of small dogs bump into his feet, and he startles --
Sending the world into a spinning, alarmed leap. A blink, and everything has shifted; he might be miles from the door, for all he can tell the difference.
The tea. It could only have been the tea. There was a splash of warmth, and his shirt soaked in a crooked strip, and deep violet plumes of choking smoke, and then everything grew horribly large and strange. Could it? Truly, there have been times when he'd been warned off food or drink in this place in the past, but he'd always felt tea would never betray him in such a fashion.
It appears Milliways is not yet through with surprising him.
Be that as it may, he cannot continue in this fashion. Large eyes blink, bewildered, at the green, long-fingered hand replacing his own; he attempts to edge towards his right and finds himself catapulted into the rough wood of the back step. A twitch forward sends him sailing in an arc that turns steadily less graceful as he tumbles back into the ground, heart thrumming a panicked pace somewhere nowhere near his usual steady beat.
There must be a way to reverse this spell, whatever it is. A wizard, perchance, or sorcerer, if he can find one -- but any attempt to move back into the bar proper would result in a scramble to keep from being trod upon, and in his present state, he can hardly call for help, or draw attention to himself.
He sits, for a moment, shivering in a clump of tall grass, flips into a bewildered cut of a half-leap at a bugling call sounding nearby, a sharp whinny that freezes him into a shell he cannot seem to break from for a lifetime's worth of worried breaths and buzzing pulse.
The horses. The stables. Possibly, there, he might find aid -- there are fewer feet to trample him, when the horses are in the stalls, and the place is peaceful enough he might find a moment to think, or plan.
It has simply never seemed such a very insurmountable distance, before.
no subject
"There's more than one long story to be told," he agrees, glancing to Marian. He doubts Kate will think more kindly of his secrets once she knows that, of all the folk still here, only Marian and Amy know his whole story, his past and title. "It was wrong of me to keep secrets from you, Kate. I cry your pardon. You've proven a true friend more than once, and I'm ashamed to have lied, even by a lack of admission."
He pauses, shakes his head, with a half-smile that's part abashed and part rueful. "But I think you are correct that right now is not the time."
no subject
It keeps her alive in certain situations just as much as speaking out against injustice keeps her breathing.
Which means that she can look between the two of them and leave it at that. Kate's story, a kissing wrong somehow kind of story, that can't be told, along with Caspian's secrets, and past, that have been further revealed, and the world of Frog Royalty Curses she'd almost rather not have learned of.
But she can hold her tongue, her questions, the things she's incredibly grateful for the fact aren't being talked about. Puzzling seconds of things she's still trying to blink away from existing in her memory. Things that leave her cheeks flushed and her gaze a little more circumstance than normal, even when things are fine. Which they are. Fine. Now.
Even if time and tales between her friends, and herself, will understandable wait for a later, better time for them all.
no subject
At least Caspian can take some comfort in knowing he isn't the only one feeling a little embarrassed under Marian's bright eyes. She may be the only one among them not owing an explanation. It's all right, though. They still stand friends, Caspian's words a salve, and Kate scrapes together a smile and a nod.
"S'all right. I'm jus' surprised, but at least it explains the itty bitty crown y'was wearin'. Y'sure you're all right? Perhaps we should make our way inside an' sit down a spell, have some drinks."
Beat.
"Anythin' but tea."