open post: averageness

[tallyyoungblood]

Tally's first clue that it hadn't been a dream was that she'd woken up alone in her room.

Nowadays, she and Gideon have been sharing a room, so that Tally can protect her from ever finding a body alone again--and maybe conspicuously leave out some clothes that fit Gideon but aren't, like, ratty black pants. That day, though, she'd woken in an empty room, gasping from something that felt like a nightmare, but somehow more vivid than real life.

Without even getting dressed, she'd run for the woods to confirm what had happened. Horror had flooded her when she found the knife-mark, exactly where she remembered throwing it yesterday. It was true. She'd been Special. She'd been awful. She'd seen and felt the world with more harsh clarity than she'd ever thought possible. She'd hit Gideon.

Tally had collapsed onto the stump, gripping her own arms to make sure her familiar, average body was still there.

Over the next few days, Tally doesn't sleep well, and people getting swapped out for a second time doesn't help. People might find her wandering the mansion like a zombie, or in one of the kitchens, contemplating getting drunk. She's not as put together as usual, either, but of course on her even bedhead and sweats look beautiful.

Comments

[sagramore]

He laughs. "No, of course not. --Do they have pancakes in your world, by the way?"

[tallyyoungblood]

"Duh! What kind of a world doesn't have pancakes?"

[sagramore]

"I don't know!" laughing again. "How do you like them?"

[tallyyoungblood]

"With chocolate chips," Tally says immediately. "And whipped cream."

[sagramore]

He takes out his invisible notebook and pen and writes this down. "Perfect, thank you."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Are you making a list in your head of pancake opinions?" Tally giggles.

[sagramore]

"I'm planning a pancake party, and I need to know how many different kinds to make."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Oh, a bash!" She perks up. "And I'm invited? Who else is coming?"

[sagramore]

"Hopefully everyone who likes pancakes."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Okay, fair enough. Doesn't have to be an exclusive event."

[sagramore]

He laughs. "I'm about to make seven hundred pancakes, I need help with them. And," conspiratorial, "it's partly a butter festival too. As a surprise for Nina."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Nina-la really likes butter?"

[sagramore]

"Well, she does, but there's also a festival from her home country I'm trying to emulate."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Oh, really?" This surprises Tally, who had been thinking of Nina's home country as nothing but wars and orphans. "I guess they must sometimes have fun."

[sagramore]

"She has had a hard time. Another reason I want to give her something pleasant."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Did you have any festivals growing up?"

[sagramore]

"Mmm, not that I remember. Parade days when the king was home from war. When I was a young man in the Orkneys, though, I celebrated their holidays."

[tallyyoungblood]

"The king went to war? Isn't the point of being a dictator to make other people do your dirty work?"

[sagramore]

"Ah, well, it was important for people to see him as a strong leader, a powerful man. And everyone knew that I was sick, so it was important for them to know that deficit had nothing to do with him."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Will no one drop this sick thing?" Tally says, irritated. "Also, wait, you knew him personally?" She's pretty sure not even pre-Rusties would judge a king for having one sick citizen.

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "He was my father."

[tallyyoungblood]

"What??" Tally almost spits out her coffee. "You're a prince?"

[sagramore]

"It's been a long time since I was a prince."

[tallyyoungblood]

"Because you came here?" Tally's still reeling. Sagramore has always seemed so normal, and nice. The idea that he was some kind of pre-Rusty dictator's son is a lot to take in.

[sagramore]

"Jesu, no. I ran away when I was fifteen." It's strange to think how easily he says it, after how tight-lipped he was when he first came to this place, terrified of anyone knowing anything about his past. It seems like a lifetime ago.