Jordan: Buttercup's arrival
Buttercup's life had had its fair share of unusual experiences - being ridiculously beautiful would do that to a girl, even without being part of a Grand Love Story - but even she rather expected that when she stopped under a tree in the Florin countryside to take a nap, she would wake up under the same tree. It seemed logical, didn't it? So it came as a bit of a surprise to wake up under a completely different tree, on a lawn, in what appeared to be a city. Not to mention a little bird sitting on her knee, blue feathers a lovely contrast with the pink silk of her skirts.
"Good morning," said the bird - he sounded nothing at all like what Buttercup would have imagined a bird sounding like if it could talk (not that she ever had, being a thoroughly uncreative sort), with a pleasantly cultured and mellow voice, quite appealingly masculine though not, she thought loyally, even half as pleasantly cultured and masculine as Westley's, and oh dear she had better pay attention for the bird was still talking - "I'm Gamneon. This might sound a bit strange, but I'm part of you. Part of your soul, that is. You just haven't been able to see me before, that's all."
"Goodness," said Buttercup, weakly.
Gamneon fluttered up to perch on her shoulder, nudging her cheek affectionately. Instinctively, Buttercup reached up to run a gentle finger down the soft feathers on his back; part of her was puzzled at how natural it felt to be talking to an animal, though the rest of her wondered absently if this sort of thing happened to everyone, and had no one bothered to mention it to her because they simply assumed that she already knew? Perhaps she would just wonder about this privately in her head until maybe she had a chance to talk it over with Westley. Westley would be able to explain the whole thing easily, no doubt. And speaking of -
"Westley isn't here yet," said Gamneon, the moment she opened her mouth. All doubts about his claim of being part of her soul vanished - how else could he have known of her sweet Westley? "But he always comes for you, doesn't he?" This was undoubtedly true. "So," continued the bird, "I wouldn't worry about it, dear. Why don't we go and see if we can't find someone to give directions?"
After a moment's consideration, Buttercup decided this was sage advice and nodded. "Of course, how silly of me to not think of it myself." She stood up, and, after spending a few industrious moments brushing off loam and setting her clothes in order - if Westley was around it would never do to let him see her in such disarray - set out determinedly.
"Good morning," said the bird - he sounded nothing at all like what Buttercup would have imagined a bird sounding like if it could talk (not that she ever had, being a thoroughly uncreative sort), with a pleasantly cultured and mellow voice, quite appealingly masculine though not, she thought loyally, even half as pleasantly cultured and masculine as Westley's, and oh dear she had better pay attention for the bird was still talking - "I'm Gamneon. This might sound a bit strange, but I'm part of you. Part of your soul, that is. You just haven't been able to see me before, that's all."
"Goodness," said Buttercup, weakly.
Gamneon fluttered up to perch on her shoulder, nudging her cheek affectionately. Instinctively, Buttercup reached up to run a gentle finger down the soft feathers on his back; part of her was puzzled at how natural it felt to be talking to an animal, though the rest of her wondered absently if this sort of thing happened to everyone, and had no one bothered to mention it to her because they simply assumed that she already knew? Perhaps she would just wonder about this privately in her head until maybe she had a chance to talk it over with Westley. Westley would be able to explain the whole thing easily, no doubt. And speaking of -
"Westley isn't here yet," said Gamneon, the moment she opened her mouth. All doubts about his claim of being part of her soul vanished - how else could he have known of her sweet Westley? "But he always comes for you, doesn't he?" This was undoubtedly true. "So," continued the bird, "I wouldn't worry about it, dear. Why don't we go and see if we can't find someone to give directions?"
After a moment's consideration, Buttercup decided this was sage advice and nodded. "Of course, how silly of me to not think of it myself." She stood up, and, after spending a few industrious moments brushing off loam and setting her clothes in order - if Westley was around it would never do to let him see her in such disarray - set out determinedly.