9 November 2022
For some reason, whenever I get stuck and need a break, I wind up writing about Lena and Frieda. I’m not sure why. Mostly they’re the designated comedy relief, I guess? Though I do worry that my sense of humor is weird and no one else finds their hijinks funny.
I briefly toyed with the idea of Phillip x Frieda being a thing… then I remembered he’s only fourteen. So no. That’s not happening. Even without considering the fact she’s probably 300.
When Isaac and Phillip arrived in the apple merchant’s village, they were disappointed to learn they’d just missed her by a couple of days. Long enough that chasing after her didn’t really seem feasible.
“So, what now?” Phillip asked. “Wait around until she comes back through?”
“If we have to.” Isaac frowned. Even in the best-case scenario, that would be a couple months. “I’m really not looking forward to it, though.”
The two booked themselves a room at the inn. The innkeeper, a portly, jovial fellow, mentioned as they finished booking their room, “Oh, you’ve come at an excellent time. We have some special visitors staying with us tonight! Duchess Sorlanne and her daughter, Delilah, are passing through.”
Isaac raised his eyebrows, while Phillip scrunched his together . “Aren’t they from the southern part of the kingdom? Like, two weeks away from here?”
“Yes they are, indeed.” Isaac tapped his finger as he thought, then asked the innkeeper, “Did they happen to mention what business they had in the area?”
The innkeeper stroked his chin. “No, can’t say that they did.”
“May I inquire as to which room they are staying in?”
“Sorry, but the asked not to be disturbed.”
Isaac feigned a cheery smile. “Of course, good sir, and I thank you for honoring the privacy of your patrons. However…” He flashed his signet ring to the innkeeper. “As the crown prince, I would be quite remiss if I did not notify them of my presence, would I not?”
The innkeeper’s eyes widened, and he smiled broadly. “Of course, sire! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. Would you like me to announce your presence?”
Isaac shook his head and raised his palm. “It’s appreciated, but I am traveling incognito to attend to some business. If you would direct me to their room, that would be more than enough.”
“Of course, sire! Up the stairs, second door on the right. The one just past it is yours.”
“Thank you, my good man.” Isaac clapped his shoulder, and brought a finger to his lips. “And remember, mum’s the word.”
“Yes, sire! No one shall hear a peep from my mouth!”
As Isaac and Phillip headed upstairs, Phillip looked at Isaac in amazement. “You should do stuff like that more often. I’d almost forgotten you were an actual, proper prince.”
Isaac scowled. “I hate pulling rank. Makes me feel slimy.”
Phillip shrugged. “You know everyone in town is going to know about you by the time the sun sets, right?”
“Don’t remind me.” Isaac sighed.
They arrived at the door in question, and Isaac pounded on it. The tow boys heard a flurry of activity from behind the door, until it finally opened to reveal an over-powdered young woman in an excessively showy pink dress. Her blonde hair had been carefully arranged in curls.
“Delilah Sorlanne, I presume?” Isaac asked, and gave a bow. The girl looked nothing like Delilah.
The not-Delilah gave him a flirtatious giggle. “I am. Who are you?”
“My name is Isaac, and this is my friend, Phillip. We heard you were in town, and came to pay our respects to you and your mother. May we come in?”
Not-Delilah glanced back at an older woman, perhaps late 40s or early 50s, in a refined green gown. The older woman waved a hand dismissively, and Not-Delilah gave the two an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but we are quite tired from our journey, so we won’t be seeing any visitors.”
She moved to close the door, but Isaac jammed his foot in the doorway and forced it back open. “I really must insist.” He flashed his signet ring, making Not-Delilah go pale, and pushed past her into the room.
“What is the meaning of this?” The false Duchess Sorlanne rose to her feet, the image of indignant fury, but as soon as she saw Isaac’s ring, her face turned bone white. She glanced to the doorway, where Phillip had just closed the door behind him, and now stood with one hand casually resting on the pommel of his sword.
“You see,” Isaac said, “I happen to be personally acquainted with the Sorlanne family. Quirk of the job, if you will. And you two look nothing like any of them. So who are you?”
When neither of the two women spoke, Isaac continued, “Perhaps I should hazard a guess? There’s this one story, you see, that my parents have told me time and time again, and it has always fascinated me. It was about these two fairies; one dressed in green, named Lena,” and he nodded to the false duchess, “and a pink one, named Frieda.” He gestured to Not-Delilah, and both women turned even paler. “They told me how after my sister was kidnapped by another fairy, these two were thrown in prison, but somehow they managed to escape, and vanished without a trace.”
Not-Delilah motioned to the window, and the green one started shifting so she could reach it. So Isaac very deliberately moved to sit on the window sill, arms folded. He grinned wickedly at the two. “Let’s make a deal, shall we?”
The two fairies shot looks of horror at one another.
Lena felt trapped. Sword at her back, even if it wasn’t drawn yet, and some kind of scary magic user ahead. She thought, after they’d escaped prison and the search for them had died down, that she and Frieda had put the whole “Aurora the baby was kidnapped” debacle behind them.
Apparently not.
How were they supposed to know the prince was wandering around this part of the country? And right next to some kind of crazy enchanted forest? What gives!
Not that Frieda seemed to care. After the initial shock of getting caught, she was as cheerful as ever, and happily chatted with the boys. Well, the bigger one, anyway; the prince didn’t seem to want to talk with them very much. Not that Lena cared. Really.
“Yep. Any shape we want,” Frieda told Phillip. Somehow, they’d gotten to talking about fairies’ shapeshifting abilities. “But I don’t like pretending to be men.”
“So, if you wanted to have a pig nose and crazy purple hair or something, you could just… do it?” Phillip asked.
Frieda responded by changing her face to match his description, and the two started laughing so hard it startled the birds in the nearby trees.
The prince shushed them, then kept going. Lena glared at them, too. “Yes, we can. But true fairies would never stoop to such behavior.”
Frieda snorted. “After you spent a week as an ugly old woman with a single tooth, just to make that one noble family feel so bad they’d take you in?”
Lena’s face flushed. “That was an entirely separate matter.”
“It didn’t work,” Frieda whispered to Phillip. “The rich family just spat at her, and it was the local poor kids who gave her food. Apparently it tasted pretty bad.”
Phillip had to wipe tears from his eyes from how hard he laughed. Once he stopped, though, he asked, “Say, where you can change your age and your appearance and everything, it makes me curious. How old are you? Do you even get old?”
The prince shoved Phillip. “It’s rude to ask a lady’s age.
Lena sniffed and nodded approvingly, but Frieda just smiled and waved it off. “Nah. Lena and me, well, you can’t exactly call us ladies, can you?”
Most recently updated draft of Rapunzel, the Sleeping Beauty (potentially including unposted content)