Generally speaking, Lyra was intensely pleased with herself, though, the tiresome wait for the arrival of their friends continued to chip away at her patience. A healthy dose of nerves also followed her around the lounge as well, visible in the hint of a frown she wore while she piled more pillows and cushy blankets on the floor. Still, more than
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She'd certainly had worse.
"Sorry," she said to the room at large, "I got held up." She brushed some snow off her shoulder, which probably she should have done before the third floor, but she'd forgotten about it. It was mostly gone now anyway. "What are we watching?"
She was a bit worried about all this. The idea of sitting down and staring at a screen for an extended time did not come naturally to her.
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It probably wasn't fair to hold out on her when she'd been so very diplomatic thus far. Yet Lyra couldn't help herself. The title was rather atrocious.
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Then she started to turn on her heel to leave without saying a word.
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Truth be told, she had absolutely no idea what the film was about and, as such, figured she ought to prepare for the worst. Lyra looked to Bert for help then... and immediately regretted it. There was no telling what sort of exchange he might suggest.
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"Lyra," he laughed. "It's called The Princess Bride. Somewhere in it, a princess is bound to get married. Even if you make her stay now, she'll walk out then." He smirked, looking from one to the other.
"My feeling on the matter is that if it's a lot of tripe, we ought to just poke fun at it." Bert shrugged. "And besides, after trying some of that popped corn, do you really doubt our judgment?"
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Emphasis on the usually. They wouldn't call it The Princess Bride if there wasn't a princess bride in it.
"So, deal. You'll owe me for this." She brandished a warning finger, to emphasize the fact.
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"Deal. It's a deal." Lyra cleared her throat, looking blandly at ease when she turned back around.
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