A Cupful of Glamour

I was not prepared for the room I had just entered. It was an enormous space with high ceilings, and at first glance was covered with every ornament an ostentatious palace should possess- carved molded ceilings, wall sconces, elaborate furniture, tall windows and sculptures...but upon blinking I could not decide if I had stepped into a room or a forest. Or maybe a courtyard.

Everything seemed to shimmer and move, even though at the same time it all seemed to be staying still. The pillar colonades wanted very much to be trees. The rugs were doing their best impressions of flowing water and the curtains couldn't decide if resembling flowers or moss best suited them. The ceiling was dizzying. It was painted to look like the sky...or maybe it was the sky, as I swear I saw a flock of birds dart off into a corner. The windows has no glass- or at least they seemed not to. Air flowed freely through the space that looked like leaded windows, but the "glass" behaved more like the ever changing liquid spectrum of soap bubbles.

My reverie was only barely broken by Cuthbert's voice bellowing:
Visitor to the Court of her Chromatic Eminence La Valtana--Lady Esteri Gridelin of Leeds!!!
(Lady? since when?)
There followed a strange chiming chorus which can only be described as a horn trying to mate with a xylophone. Figuring this must have been the fanfare, I summoned my inner royalty and did my best curtsey. Cuthbert was standing stark still besides me, looking annoyingly proper.

I saw a...flickering pattern coming towards me from what had seemed like a grotesque sculpture between the tree colonade, and it did not register as anything tangible until it was within a few feet of me. It approached with slow and deliberate grace, and spoke in a warm, musical sort of tone, like if a viola could speak perfect English.

"Welcome! I am honored that you join me today, Esteri."

My eyes were having trouble making sense of what I was seeing. I had the impression of an inordinately beautiful woman, but she was nearly impossible to look at. Her features were constantly changing- blue eyes, green eyes, violet eyes, pale skin, dark skin, pink hair, indigo hair...I won't even get into how mad her robes were. I felt dizzy, and unsure. This must be what doing drugs felt like.

La Valtana smiled gently, seemingly to acknowledge my predicament and her appearance slowly solidified. A tall fair woman with blonde hair and violet eyes gazed down at me from beneath the spread of a perplexing leafy crown with blue stars orbiting it (literally, they were moving). Her clothing was still writhing slightly in appearance-but at least now it looked like a dress. The fabric seemed restless as a leafy brocade spilled playfully about the purple silk upon which words kept appearing and vanishing. Her jewelry was also moving- being that it was primarily made out of butterflies and other winged insects. Her face was framed by a large Elizabethan style collar across which roman numerals slowly paraded, sometimes followed by occasional astrological symbols.

I'd heard numerous descriptions of faeries before, and I decided right then and there that all of them were hopelessly boring. This, by God, was a bloody faery standing in front of me. There was no other explanation. Even most dreams I had didn't have the knackers to be quite so bizarre, so I couldn't possibly be dreaming after all. I was being kidnapped by faeries, yes. That was it!.... Oh bollocks. Am I ever in trouble.

La Valtana regarded me with amused curiousity, as she was apparently watching my thought process. She smiled kindly and said "I understand this must be a lot for you to take in. Please sit with me. I promise to allay all your worries and answer any questions you most certainly must be having about now." She turned to Cuthbert, who was still maintaining maximum court composure by resembling a bloated, flouncy pinata. "Cuthbert, could you please find a seat for our guest and place it over near my chair?" "YES! YES YOUR EMINENCE!" Cuthbert blurted as if speaking was not unlike being constipated.

He scrabbled off to a near corner and returned with a soft plushy green ottoman covered in tassles. He placed it obseqiously next to what was apparently La Valtana's throne- what I had mistaken for a sculpture. "Thank you, Cuthbert." "YOUR EMINENCE!!" His nose was shifting between a striking cobalt blue and a distressed looking blue paisley pattern. La Valtana bent down to his eye level and addressed him gently. "You are free to go now, Cuthbert. If I need your assistance, I shall certainly call for you." She smiled radiantly. The Steward twitched erratically and could only blurt out "Passfelberry!!" as he awkardly toddled off.

La Valtana turned to me and sat gracefully in her seat. "You'll have to excuse poor Cuthbert. He's...a bit smitten. He's one of my newest palace attendants." She said, producing a twisty looking little pot from out of nowhere. She poured liquid from the pot into her hand, where it formed a cup. She continued to pour until the cup was full and with a smile, she handed it to me.

I regarded the cupful of swirling fuschia liquid with severe caution (remembering all the madness that is caused by eating faery food) and just as much curiousity. The smell was seductive- like flowers and grass and midday sunshine on a glistening pool filled with striped fish.
God help me if I should drink the stuff.

La Valtana poured herself a cup of dubious magic fluid as well, sipped it delicately, and then said "Now then Esteri, I imagine you are wondering what this is all about."

An Angry Pudding

I rubbed my eyes, as the dimness I had stepped into didn't seem to be receding. There was a sense of not only visual but textural fuzziness, as my steps weren't finding purchase with any sort of solid surface and my groping hands seemed to close on cottony greyness. It was frightfully annoying. Nevertheless, I had encountered this in dreams before and knew such a condition was not likely to remain so for long. I continued to grope my way forward until I heard a sharp and pompous voice snap "Come on then! You do know how to walk don't you?"

I angrily snapped back "I most certainly do- but I have the habit of doing so ON THE FLOOR. And there doesn't seem to be one here. So I can't exactly walk very well if there's nothing to step on now can I?" The pompous voice heaved a deep sigh and I felt both hands being yanked forward- the rest of my body following like a balloon follows a string. The scene faded into view- a sun dappled hallway lined with tall pillars trimmed in golds and pale greens swam before my eyes and then solidified. "Well you're doing it ALL WRONG." The disembodied voice retorted (with considerable snark, I might add).

I looked off to my left to address the voice to find it no longer disembodied, but inhabiting a short pudding of a man dressed richly in antique looking clothing- and not surprisingly a pair of those dreadful puffy balloon pants that one sees in Elizabethan era portraits. No wonder he was so angry. Anyone in pale lavender poofy pants trimmed in green piping and copious gold ribbons had a right to be. The man rolled his eyes at me, and his nose went blue.

"Cuthbert?" I said tentatively. (and biting my lip hard so as not to laugh)
"That's SIR Cuthbert Bluenose, Palace Steward" said the little man, bowing low in a jiggly sort of way, and removing his hat (which truly did look like the top of a pudding).
"La Valtana has sent me to escort you to her chambers where the audience shall take place." I started to move forward but he stuck out a pudgey arm and snorted "NOT IN THAT."
His beady eyes addressed my pajamaed condition with disdain and he wiped his hands on his poofy pants as if he had just shaken hands with a pile of mucous. "La Valtana is to be treated with the utmost respect and therefore you shall abide by royal decree No. J-78 which clearly states that all visitors must be wearing the appropriate garb in the presence of the Royal Valtarans or they shall be forced to leave the palace."
"Alright...I would love to do so, but I haven't any other clothes."

Cuthbert's nose turned the color of smashed blueberry pie. "No. Other. Clothes. You impossible girl. Don't you know anything?"

"Apparently not, SIR, as I have never been here before and your lovely note did not make mention for me to bring any clothing. Never mind the fact that I couldn't even get-"

"RIGHT! There!!" he said gesturing impatiently at me. I looked down to see I was now wearing courtly attire- a full skirted pale green dress with violet and gold embroidery and sheer violet oversleeves. I was examining my tiny green silk slippers peeking out from beneath the skirt when Cuthbert barked"Next time, do it yourself. It's not rocket science." He turned and strode forward. "This way miss. Waste makes paste. We are not to waste La Valtana's precious time."

He wibbled forward and I followed. (Waste makes paste? Whatever little man.)

The hallway was long, lined with tall windows that were framed by marble pillars, and the floor was tiled in white and green. Sunlight spilled in, but was so bright that I couldn't get a sense of what was outside the windows themselves. There were ornate golden stands holding large flags every few feet, and wallpaper that simply writhed with purple and green brocade flowers on the wall sections behind them. The hall made a turn to the right, and while it was still lined with windows on one side, the other was covered with large portrait paintings of fascinating ladies, all of whom were wantonly encrusted with fabrics and trinkets.

Every portrait was lovelier than the next- each lady was adorned in impossible hues of decadent fabrics, with coiffures that normal gravity would not oblige. I began getting so caught up in the faces, that Cuthbert hrumphed loudly at me and clicked his heels together in frustration at my lagging behind. Continuing on, we approached an enormous door which looked as if the baroque period had vomited gold cherubs in an unseemly fashion all over the front. Cuthbert stepped forward and grasped the handle, which giggled, and pulled the door ajar slightly. He peeked about through the door crack and then turned to me, his nose fading to a pleasing periwinkle. "She is ready for you. I will announce your presence, there will be a fanfare, and you are to curtsey. You know how to curtsey, yes?"
"Yes."
"Right then. After me."
He opened the door wide for me and followed me through.