Frogs
Title: Frogs
Author: whytewytch4
Word Count: 399
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of witchcraft
Characters: Allan, OMC
Disclaimer: Tiger Aspect and the BBC own the rights to Robin Hood 2006. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made.
Summary: Allan’s cousin saw somebody turned into a frog-sure, he was always drunk, but still…
A/N: Because what bunch of stories about Allan would be complete without some mention of the frog incident!
The frogs were jumping around and croaking after the hard rain they had just had outside of Dorchester. Allan’s cousin, Paul, was drunk again, and was leaning heavily against Allan’s shoulder as they stumbled from the pub to Paul’s house. Paul watched the frogs in fear, and jerked his body up until he could stare his cousin Allan in the face.
“You know them were people once, dontcha?” he whispered dramatically, staring in fear at the frogs.
“What are you on about?” Allan asked, irritated with his cousin’s dead weight.
“Them’s bewitched people!”
”What are?”
Allan knew Paul was still drunk, but Allan feared witchcraft as much as anyone else he knew. He had never met a witch and he had no desire to.
Paul got right in Allan’s face and spoke soto voce. “The frogs!”
Allan felt nauseous as his cousin’s fetid breath hit him full on.
“You’re drunk!”
“That’s true. But that don’t mean I didn’t see it wiv my own eyes, now do it?”
Allan looked into the earnest face of his cousin and felt a chill go up his spine.
“You saw it?” he asked. His cousin witnessing it was a whole other thing.
“Would I lie to you?”
Of course Paul would lie-it was in the blood, but Allan could usually tell when Paul was lying, and right now, he was not expressing any of his usual tells-eyes no wider than normal, lips likely dry only from drinking too much ale.
“It was a full moon, an’ I was out, comin’ ‘ome from the pub…”
So far, Paul’s story sounded plausible.
“I saw this woman point a stick at a fella I’d been drinkin’ wiv earlier. She said some words, and ‘POOF’!” Allan jumped as his cousin shouted this last. “’e shrunk down and started hoppin’ about an’ croakin’ up a storm.”
“You’re ‘avin’ me on!” Allan declared, glancing nervously at the frogs that seemed to be surrounding them.
“I never would! I love you, Allan. You’re my favorite cousin.”
“O’ course I am-Tom’s your other choice an’ ‘e don’t never come around.”
“See?” Paul wagged a finger in Allan’s face. “You mind what I said an’ don’t never get on a witch’s bad side or you’ll be on the ground, hoppin’ and croakin’ in the rain.”
Allan nodded seriously at his cousin’s advice, promising himself to take it to heart.