Spring Fling Drabble #2: Out of the Mouth of Babes (A/G-ish, gen)
Title: Out of the Mouths of Babes
Prompt(s): 33). Gwen's mother takes her daughter to the castle, who sits her down next to little Arthur to play. Her mother is Arthur's governess/nursemaid/whatever you call it. Arthur is only like 2 years old or so.
Rating/Warnings: Completely G, and possibly horrible kiddie!talk. I tried.
Word Count: 1,000 exactly
A/N: 1.) You may notice a trend of me avoiding dialogue like the plague. :P (I'm building up to it, I swear!)
2.) Most of the italics are Rhiannon's thoughts.
3.) I apologize in advance for excessive capslock and !!!!!!! If I remember correctly, this is how toddlers talk.
Rhiannon Leodegrance knew that her daughter was not your average 4-year-old. Ever since her Guinevere was a baby she had always been quiet, her large brown eyes constantly observing the world around her.
Of course, that isn't to say she didn't know how to talk, or that she was terminally shy and afraid to speak to people; once she knew someone beyond five minutes, she was the most cheerful little girl anyone could ever hope to meet…who had inherited her mother's penchant for rambling.
Luckily, at her young age it was still adorable.
And hopefully, that friendliness could get her little blond charge to open up today.
Prince Arthur, just shy of 3 years old, took terminally shy to new heights. Anytime an adult came within view who was not his father or Rhiannon herself, he or she would immediately be treated to a wide-eyed scream and a tiny boy running behind his nursemaid's skirts. Other children weren't treated much better: instead of screaming, he simply turned mute and played alone in his corner until they left.
King Uther, cold and forbidding at the best of times since his beloved Igraine died, nevertheless treated his young son like glass, completely helpless on how to handle him. So naturally, Rhiannon had to take matters into her own hands.
When Rhiannon initially introduced her daughter to the prince an hour ago, she knew immediately that she was on the right track. Arthur looked at Guinevere, eyes curious, and silently offered her his stuffed toy horse. When she accepted it, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and shuffled over to his corner as usual.
Gwen was immediately charmed.
Currently, Rhiannon's hands were "occupied" in sewing up Arthur's play clothes. Her mind and eyes, however, were completely focused on the other side of the play room.
In one corner, sprawled on the stone floor in her best dress (purple, her current favorite color) and long curly hair all over the place, was Guinevere. Scattered around her were blocks that she was stacking to make a castle. She was also chattering like mad to the boy sitting in the corner opposite her with his own blocks.
Mute of course, but at least staring at her without fear in those wide blue eyes. Progress!
"…and right now I can't go in there, but Father said that when I'm five he'll let me come watch him work on a sword! He might even let me use one of his tools or make a small practice sword for me-"
'Not if I have anything to say about it,' Rhiannon thought as she nearly stabbed herself on a needle-
And then she really did stab herself with the damn needle when she heard a small voice pipe up, "But…YOU'RE A GIRL."
The girl in question jumped in surprise, knocking over half her block castle. She pouted before turning to glare at the voice's owner. "You scared me!"
Arthur's face scrunched up, obviously annoyed. "Girls don't fight!"
Gwen stood up and stomped over to him. "And why not? Girls can be just as good as boys!"
Arthur also stood up, and Rhiannon had to hide behind the shirt she was mending to stifle a laugh when he crossed his tiny arms and glared back ('classic Uther', she silently snorted). "Only knights have swords!"
Gwen stared at him in disbelief, before running past him to the toy chest in his corner, where a small wooden sword lay on top.
"Then why do you have one, huh?! You're not a knight!"
"I AM TOO!"
"YOU ARE NOT! You're not even three!"
"I WILL BE!" he screeched (and Rhiannon winced. 'Goodness he's loud, screaming wordlessly or not.'). "WHEN I'M BIG!! I'LL BE THE BEST ONE OF ALL!!!"
"Will you let girls be knights?"
Arthur looked shocked. "NO!"
"Then you WON'T be the best! Only the best will let ANYONE be a knight!"
This was too much for the little boy to comprehend. His perplexed look quickly shifted to an arrogant one ('Definitely his father's son.'). "I AM THE BEST! GIMME BACK MY SWORD!!!"
"NO."
"IT'S MINE."
"NOOOOO. STUPID BOYS CAN'T HAVE SWORDS."
"BUT IT'S MIIIIIIIINE."
"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S MY EARLY BIRTHDAY GIFT!"
At this, Arthur let out one of his infamous screams. With a speed only little children possess-and therefore far too fast for Rhiannon to react properly-he ran towards Gwen and pushed her over, landing on top of her yelling, "MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE." They then proceeded to roll around, frantically grabbing at the sword between them.
If Rhiannon had had more time to process this moment, she might've laughed hysterically at how this was unexpectedly inappropriate. In any case…
"ARTHUR PENDRAGON AND GUINEVERE LEODEGRANCE, YOU BOTH STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!"
At this they froze in place, Guinevere on top of Arthur. She quickly rolled off him, sword in hand, stood up and grinned. "I won, Mother!"
Arthur, who had moved to stand up behind her, scowled. He suddenly reached up, grabbed a chunk of Gwen's hair…and yanked. Hard.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH MOMMAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!"
Rhiannon sighed, and then hurried over when she realized that, in pain or not, Guinevere was still fully able to wallop Arthur a few times (with his own sword, no less) in one hand while clutching her head in the other.
Rhiannon scooped Arthur up under one arm so he was parallel with the floor, and did the same for Gwen under her other arm. As they weighed less than 3 stone each, she barely felt the strain. It was like carrying piles of firewood.
Loud, bratty piles of firewood.
She spoke towards her left hip. "Guinevere, you give Arthur back his sword RIGHT NOW, and APOLOGIZE for taking it AND hitting him with it."
"'m sorry, Prince Arthur," she mumbled.
Now to her right hip. "And Arthur, you APOLOGIZE for pushing her and yanking her hair, YOU HEAR ME?"
"…I sorry, Gen'vere."
Silence.
"…Call me Gwen."
"…I like Gen'vere."
Rhiannon sighed. 'I will never plan anything ever again.'
Prompt(s): 33). Gwen's mother takes her daughter to the castle, who sits her down next to little Arthur to play. Her mother is Arthur's governess/nursemaid/whatever you call it. Arthur is only like 2 years old or so.
Rating/Warnings: Completely G, and possibly horrible kiddie!talk. I tried.
Word Count: 1,000 exactly
A/N: 1.) You may notice a trend of me avoiding dialogue like the plague. :P (I'm building up to it, I swear!)
2.) Most of the italics are Rhiannon's thoughts.
3.) I apologize in advance for excessive capslock and !!!!!!! If I remember correctly, this is how toddlers talk.
Rhiannon Leodegrance knew that her daughter was not your average 4-year-old. Ever since her Guinevere was a baby she had always been quiet, her large brown eyes constantly observing the world around her.
Of course, that isn't to say she didn't know how to talk, or that she was terminally shy and afraid to speak to people; once she knew someone beyond five minutes, she was the most cheerful little girl anyone could ever hope to meet…who had inherited her mother's penchant for rambling.
Luckily, at her young age it was still adorable.
And hopefully, that friendliness could get her little blond charge to open up today.
Prince Arthur, just shy of 3 years old, took terminally shy to new heights. Anytime an adult came within view who was not his father or Rhiannon herself, he or she would immediately be treated to a wide-eyed scream and a tiny boy running behind his nursemaid's skirts. Other children weren't treated much better: instead of screaming, he simply turned mute and played alone in his corner until they left.
King Uther, cold and forbidding at the best of times since his beloved Igraine died, nevertheless treated his young son like glass, completely helpless on how to handle him. So naturally, Rhiannon had to take matters into her own hands.
When Rhiannon initially introduced her daughter to the prince an hour ago, she knew immediately that she was on the right track. Arthur looked at Guinevere, eyes curious, and silently offered her his stuffed toy horse. When she accepted it, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and shuffled over to his corner as usual.
Gwen was immediately charmed.
Currently, Rhiannon's hands were "occupied" in sewing up Arthur's play clothes. Her mind and eyes, however, were completely focused on the other side of the play room.
In one corner, sprawled on the stone floor in her best dress (purple, her current favorite color) and long curly hair all over the place, was Guinevere. Scattered around her were blocks that she was stacking to make a castle. She was also chattering like mad to the boy sitting in the corner opposite her with his own blocks.
Mute of course, but at least staring at her without fear in those wide blue eyes. Progress!
"…and right now I can't go in there, but Father said that when I'm five he'll let me come watch him work on a sword! He might even let me use one of his tools or make a small practice sword for me-"
'Not if I have anything to say about it,' Rhiannon thought as she nearly stabbed herself on a needle-
And then she really did stab herself with the damn needle when she heard a small voice pipe up, "But…YOU'RE A GIRL."
The girl in question jumped in surprise, knocking over half her block castle. She pouted before turning to glare at the voice's owner. "You scared me!"
Arthur's face scrunched up, obviously annoyed. "Girls don't fight!"
Gwen stood up and stomped over to him. "And why not? Girls can be just as good as boys!"
Arthur also stood up, and Rhiannon had to hide behind the shirt she was mending to stifle a laugh when he crossed his tiny arms and glared back ('classic Uther', she silently snorted). "Only knights have swords!"
Gwen stared at him in disbelief, before running past him to the toy chest in his corner, where a small wooden sword lay on top.
"Then why do you have one, huh?! You're not a knight!"
"I AM TOO!"
"YOU ARE NOT! You're not even three!"
"I WILL BE!" he screeched (and Rhiannon winced. 'Goodness he's loud, screaming wordlessly or not.'). "WHEN I'M BIG!! I'LL BE THE BEST ONE OF ALL!!!"
"Will you let girls be knights?"
Arthur looked shocked. "NO!"
"Then you WON'T be the best! Only the best will let ANYONE be a knight!"
This was too much for the little boy to comprehend. His perplexed look quickly shifted to an arrogant one ('Definitely his father's son.'). "I AM THE BEST! GIMME BACK MY SWORD!!!"
"NO."
"IT'S MINE."
"NOOOOO. STUPID BOYS CAN'T HAVE SWORDS."
"BUT IT'S MIIIIIIIINE."
"NO IT'S NOT! IT'S MY EARLY BIRTHDAY GIFT!"
At this, Arthur let out one of his infamous screams. With a speed only little children possess-and therefore far too fast for Rhiannon to react properly-he ran towards Gwen and pushed her over, landing on top of her yelling, "MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE." They then proceeded to roll around, frantically grabbing at the sword between them.
If Rhiannon had had more time to process this moment, she might've laughed hysterically at how this was unexpectedly inappropriate. In any case…
"ARTHUR PENDRAGON AND GUINEVERE LEODEGRANCE, YOU BOTH STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!"
At this they froze in place, Guinevere on top of Arthur. She quickly rolled off him, sword in hand, stood up and grinned. "I won, Mother!"
Arthur, who had moved to stand up behind her, scowled. He suddenly reached up, grabbed a chunk of Gwen's hair…and yanked. Hard.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH MOMMAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!"
Rhiannon sighed, and then hurried over when she realized that, in pain or not, Guinevere was still fully able to wallop Arthur a few times (with his own sword, no less) in one hand while clutching her head in the other.
Rhiannon scooped Arthur up under one arm so he was parallel with the floor, and did the same for Gwen under her other arm. As they weighed less than 3 stone each, she barely felt the strain. It was like carrying piles of firewood.
Loud, bratty piles of firewood.
She spoke towards her left hip. "Guinevere, you give Arthur back his sword RIGHT NOW, and APOLOGIZE for taking it AND hitting him with it."
"'m sorry, Prince Arthur," she mumbled.
Now to her right hip. "And Arthur, you APOLOGIZE for pushing her and yanking her hair, YOU HEAR ME?"
"…I sorry, Gen'vere."
Silence.
"…Call me Gwen."
"…I like Gen'vere."
Rhiannon sighed. 'I will never plan anything ever again.'