this almost tops my tea party
Almost. This was for a HOL library prompt that I was inspired to write. There were so many worlds I could have entered, but I blame cabbages. And Amy. And more cabbages. For the choice of the book-world. So here's the fatal result.
Experiencing Wonderland
It’s a long drop to the bottom. Those were my first thoughts as I somehow lost my balance and tumbled into some unimaginably large hole that should have been a mixture of cement and more cement. It was too large for a rabbit, I thought as I continued my monotonous, slow journey downward. Rabbits never grow up as large as an old tree trunk. Rabbits don’t burrow through concrete either, but I gave them the benefit of a doubt on that respect.
Falling wasn’t so bad, though, especially when there’s really no resistance stopping you. Most of it was the lack of inertia and the speed with which the air around me reacted to my sharp drop.
Then it ended, and I lightly bounced at the bottom. I was most displeased.
“Cabbages,” I muttered, the hint of a whine emerging from my throat. “Why is it always cabbages?”
I would have continued whining to myself, too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I’d heard conversation passing by. Nevermind that the place I landed on consisted of an expanse of cabbages next to an unused road. No wonder the cabbages were barely harvested. Nobody came around here anymore.
“How could I have forgotten the cabbages? He raised cabbages, too, Garion. Never forget the cabbages.”
I knew those lines. My eyes turned into the shape of sparkling stars. “No way!”
If there was a speed with which light could pass through a pond full of frog spawn, it would still lose to how quickly I managed to jump out of the cabbages, smooth my wrinkled clothes, and rush towards the voices.
“I’m in Sendaria!” I cried aloud, waving my arms with glee.
A couple of knives-and maybe swords and hammers (but I only saw the knives)-pointed towards my throat. One slithered its way near my neck, and I held my breath.
“Is she one of yours, Captain?” a hiss came from the mousy-looking Drasnian that I knew and loved so well in the story I’d read ages back.
The Captain-I assumed it must have been Brendig-took a dignified sniff and turned to the old, robed man. “Is this a trick you play to distract me, Belgarath?”
I almost just about squeed. But the knife-knives-kept me in check. For now.
The one called Belgarath widened his eyes, clearly just as surprised to find a slightly disheveled me standing there, smiling like a silly schoolgirl on her way to a boy band concert. I swiveled my eyes as far as I could, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lady in their party-
Sure enough, Polgara the Sorceress opened the pathway of gentlemen, her elegant frown plastered on her fantastic face. I probably should have thought about the reactions I would cause for rushing out, but all I could really think of was how positively fierce the dark-haired beauty looked. Even if she was frowning heavily down on me.
“What seems to be the delay, Captain Brendig? I imagine your king was most adamant at delivering us to him. I hadn’t thought you’d take your time about it,” she finally said, though her gaze was still on me.
“I caught a stray,” Silk (if I wasn’t already fangirling before, I was definitely fangirling now) told her. “She must have come from the abandoned field.”
“At least now we’ll not forget the cabbages,” the fair-haired boy-the one called Garion-pointed out. “She smells of them.”
“Now’s not the time for jokes, Garion,” Belgarath said, irritably.
I wondered if they were going to keep squabbling. But my musings were cut rather short when Polgara waved her arm and briefly commanded that the weapons be re-sheathed. Dear Aunt Pol. Always very considerate over her own female kind.
“Are you lost, dear?” she asked, her eyes softening. “You look like you’ve stepped into a dream.”
She couldn’t be any closer to the truth, in my opinion. Because I’m pretty sure that was what this was. Honestly, dreaming could not have gotten any better. Especially when one dreams in full, colored reality, with the feel and smell of the surrounding world. I don’t miss the knives at my throat, though.
“Um...so,” I began, trying to form a logical sentence. But all I could think of to keep myself from hyperventilating was my four-step process. It’s okay, I said to myself. Inhale. Exhale. Rinse. Repeat.
I followed my relaxing method a few times until I finally continued. Polgara was utterly patient. “I think I am dreaming, actually. And you’re all just fantasies in my mind.”
“What an odd answer,” the rat-faced Prince Kheldar said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called somebody’s fantasy before.”
“I dare say most of us haven’t, Silk,” Belgarath answered crossly. “Out with it girl. Friend or foe?”
“Don’t you have some way of telling the difference?” I replied, just a little put off. If it was my dream and my fantasy, why were my favorite characters being so difficult? “Does it look like I’m about to harm anyone?”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Silk shrugged. “I know by experience. Trust me.”
Polgara shook her head and looked sternly at Silk and her father. “She’s harmless, Father. But I’d hate to leave her here.”
“We don’t have time to take hopeless cases, Pol.”
“I object to being a hopeless case,” I muttered. But if they heard me, they chose to ignore what I’d said.
There was some uncomfortable silence afterwards, though whether it was they were conferring between themselves through the finger language I’d heard of or if they wanted me to silently slink away is beyond me. Regardless, they knew full well I wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, if this is my dream, I have an inkling of joining them and visiting Drasnia. How I love Drasnians.
“Alright, Pol.” I knew she’d get her way. She always did, that Polgara! “We’ll do it your way. But she rides with Garion.”
Garion looked just a bit irritated, but I gave him an irritated look back. I was hoping he’d say I could ride with Silk.
It wasn’t so bad, though. Silk had already perched himself near Garion in the first place. And as the retinue continued to goodness knows where (Captain Brendig had stated matter-of-factly that we were all heading to the King of Sendaria), Silk continued his conversation with Garion. I listened in, taken in by the story, as though I hadn’t heard it before already. Who’d forget about a king who once farmed rutabagas?
“How about Drasnia? Or Tolnedra? Oh, please, please give a story on Tolnedra!” I pleaded with Silk, who still shot suspicious looks down my direction.
When he saw that my demands were purely out of interest, he chuckled. “I didn’t think most people would be that interested in learning about my thoughts on the nations, let alone Tolnedra.”
“Especially on Tol Honeth!”
“You’re a curious lady, aren’t you?” he asked, now amused. I was tickled pink that he’d be amused at my antics. “If you really want a storyteller, though, Belgarath over there tells a great tale here and there.”
Belgarath turned, his frown still apparent. But I was hoping he’d warm up to me at some point. Silk just shrugged, and he raised his voice to address the Old Wolf. “I was just telling the girl that you were a fantastic weaver of truth and fantasy.”
“I heard you.”
“I know. But I just wanted you to know that,” Silk said blandly.
“You don’t need to repeat it!”
Silk shrugged again. “He’ll come around.”
I grinned at him. “I’m sure he will.”
After all, I planned to stay with them until I reached Drasnia. And if I knew the story well, that means another couple of books later.
Experiencing Wonderland
It’s a long drop to the bottom. Those were my first thoughts as I somehow lost my balance and tumbled into some unimaginably large hole that should have been a mixture of cement and more cement. It was too large for a rabbit, I thought as I continued my monotonous, slow journey downward. Rabbits never grow up as large as an old tree trunk. Rabbits don’t burrow through concrete either, but I gave them the benefit of a doubt on that respect.
Falling wasn’t so bad, though, especially when there’s really no resistance stopping you. Most of it was the lack of inertia and the speed with which the air around me reacted to my sharp drop.
Then it ended, and I lightly bounced at the bottom. I was most displeased.
“Cabbages,” I muttered, the hint of a whine emerging from my throat. “Why is it always cabbages?”
I would have continued whining to myself, too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I’d heard conversation passing by. Nevermind that the place I landed on consisted of an expanse of cabbages next to an unused road. No wonder the cabbages were barely harvested. Nobody came around here anymore.
“How could I have forgotten the cabbages? He raised cabbages, too, Garion. Never forget the cabbages.”
I knew those lines. My eyes turned into the shape of sparkling stars. “No way!”
If there was a speed with which light could pass through a pond full of frog spawn, it would still lose to how quickly I managed to jump out of the cabbages, smooth my wrinkled clothes, and rush towards the voices.
“I’m in Sendaria!” I cried aloud, waving my arms with glee.
A couple of knives-and maybe swords and hammers (but I only saw the knives)-pointed towards my throat. One slithered its way near my neck, and I held my breath.
“Is she one of yours, Captain?” a hiss came from the mousy-looking Drasnian that I knew and loved so well in the story I’d read ages back.
The Captain-I assumed it must have been Brendig-took a dignified sniff and turned to the old, robed man. “Is this a trick you play to distract me, Belgarath?”
I almost just about squeed. But the knife-knives-kept me in check. For now.
The one called Belgarath widened his eyes, clearly just as surprised to find a slightly disheveled me standing there, smiling like a silly schoolgirl on her way to a boy band concert. I swiveled my eyes as far as I could, hoping to catch a glimpse of the lady in their party-
Sure enough, Polgara the Sorceress opened the pathway of gentlemen, her elegant frown plastered on her fantastic face. I probably should have thought about the reactions I would cause for rushing out, but all I could really think of was how positively fierce the dark-haired beauty looked. Even if she was frowning heavily down on me.
“What seems to be the delay, Captain Brendig? I imagine your king was most adamant at delivering us to him. I hadn’t thought you’d take your time about it,” she finally said, though her gaze was still on me.
“I caught a stray,” Silk (if I wasn’t already fangirling before, I was definitely fangirling now) told her. “She must have come from the abandoned field.”
“At least now we’ll not forget the cabbages,” the fair-haired boy-the one called Garion-pointed out. “She smells of them.”
“Now’s not the time for jokes, Garion,” Belgarath said, irritably.
I wondered if they were going to keep squabbling. But my musings were cut rather short when Polgara waved her arm and briefly commanded that the weapons be re-sheathed. Dear Aunt Pol. Always very considerate over her own female kind.
“Are you lost, dear?” she asked, her eyes softening. “You look like you’ve stepped into a dream.”
She couldn’t be any closer to the truth, in my opinion. Because I’m pretty sure that was what this was. Honestly, dreaming could not have gotten any better. Especially when one dreams in full, colored reality, with the feel and smell of the surrounding world. I don’t miss the knives at my throat, though.
“Um...so,” I began, trying to form a logical sentence. But all I could think of to keep myself from hyperventilating was my four-step process. It’s okay, I said to myself. Inhale. Exhale. Rinse. Repeat.
I followed my relaxing method a few times until I finally continued. Polgara was utterly patient. “I think I am dreaming, actually. And you’re all just fantasies in my mind.”
“What an odd answer,” the rat-faced Prince Kheldar said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called somebody’s fantasy before.”
“I dare say most of us haven’t, Silk,” Belgarath answered crossly. “Out with it girl. Friend or foe?”
“Don’t you have some way of telling the difference?” I replied, just a little put off. If it was my dream and my fantasy, why were my favorite characters being so difficult? “Does it look like I’m about to harm anyone?”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Silk shrugged. “I know by experience. Trust me.”
Polgara shook her head and looked sternly at Silk and her father. “She’s harmless, Father. But I’d hate to leave her here.”
“We don’t have time to take hopeless cases, Pol.”
“I object to being a hopeless case,” I muttered. But if they heard me, they chose to ignore what I’d said.
There was some uncomfortable silence afterwards, though whether it was they were conferring between themselves through the finger language I’d heard of or if they wanted me to silently slink away is beyond me. Regardless, they knew full well I wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, if this is my dream, I have an inkling of joining them and visiting Drasnia. How I love Drasnians.
“Alright, Pol.” I knew she’d get her way. She always did, that Polgara! “We’ll do it your way. But she rides with Garion.”
Garion looked just a bit irritated, but I gave him an irritated look back. I was hoping he’d say I could ride with Silk.
It wasn’t so bad, though. Silk had already perched himself near Garion in the first place. And as the retinue continued to goodness knows where (Captain Brendig had stated matter-of-factly that we were all heading to the King of Sendaria), Silk continued his conversation with Garion. I listened in, taken in by the story, as though I hadn’t heard it before already. Who’d forget about a king who once farmed rutabagas?
“How about Drasnia? Or Tolnedra? Oh, please, please give a story on Tolnedra!” I pleaded with Silk, who still shot suspicious looks down my direction.
When he saw that my demands were purely out of interest, he chuckled. “I didn’t think most people would be that interested in learning about my thoughts on the nations, let alone Tolnedra.”
“Especially on Tol Honeth!”
“You’re a curious lady, aren’t you?” he asked, now amused. I was tickled pink that he’d be amused at my antics. “If you really want a storyteller, though, Belgarath over there tells a great tale here and there.”
Belgarath turned, his frown still apparent. But I was hoping he’d warm up to me at some point. Silk just shrugged, and he raised his voice to address the Old Wolf. “I was just telling the girl that you were a fantastic weaver of truth and fantasy.”
“I heard you.”
“I know. But I just wanted you to know that,” Silk said blandly.
“You don’t need to repeat it!”
Silk shrugged again. “He’ll come around.”
I grinned at him. “I’m sure he will.”
After all, I planned to stay with them until I reached Drasnia. And if I knew the story well, that means another couple of books later.