AN:-

So.

I wonder how many of you have heard of Qoheleth? One of my favourite fics (which I haven't quite got around to adding to my favourites lists) is by him – it's an Animorph fic called "Sacred Host" and I love his depiction of how faith and the Yeerks collide.

So when I got a PM telling me that he's hosting a game, I might have jumped at the chance. Who am I kidding I 'jumped at the call'.

The game is this. Each player is a princess trying to figure out what wrong with her. There is a very specific rule (which is different for every princess) that we will have to figure out to solve the spell. Right now, as of when I'm posting, we're about five short to start the game.

Anyways. Qoheleth had us each write an introduction to our characters, in the interest of speeding things along (and possibly helping some of my fellow game-players out), I'm posting my introduction to my character.

Enjoy


Of Cauldrons, Hiccoughs... And Pancakes

or

Eilonwy's Curious Niggles


I'm Eilonwy, daughter of Angharad, daughter of Regat, daughter of…

You know what? I've said this all before.

It's a right bother trying to list the entire line of my ancestors. What's important is that I'm a descendant of the Sea-People. The blood of Llyr Half-speech runs through my veins.

Oh.

And I'm a princess.

Yeah…

Not many people have heard of Prydain. (It's kind of a shame really, Prydain is a lovely place now that the threat of the Horned King is gone). But that's because my movie, The Black Cauldron, flopped.

Big time.

As in, quietly sweep under the rug and forget about it bad.

But anyways. I'm Eilonwy and I'm a forgotten princess. After the events of my movie I moved into Caer Dallben (Caer means castle. But nope, it's a farm. It's not as bad as you think though! You get used to the prevalently farm-y odour after a while. Though I'm pretty sure that other princesses' do not constantly give off a barnyard-y smell at all times. It really can't be helped. I challenge any other one of those delicate little damsels to do my daily farmyard chores. Well, maybe apart from Cinderella and Snow. And definitely not Mulan – how she handled those paddy fields by herself, I don't know.)

But the good news about being forgotten is that the world-dimension-thing that Prydain exists in is a lot less littered with tourists than most other Disney-slash-Disney-adaptation worlds. (I guess Mulan benefited a little from it though. I've looked a little at her original legend. She was supposed to be stuck in her little masquerade for decades not months).

Another thing that I like about being part of an obscure world is that my age is generally more fluid than most other Disney characters. I'm feeling and looking twenty-ish right now – everyone else's ages have been adjusted accordingly.

What. Did you think we all were permanently trapped as our movie age? Nope. It just depends on how popular-slash-obscure our movies are. The more popular the movie, the more stable the age. The more obscure the more fluid. (Imagine if we all were stuck at movie age! Ariel would mother us all to death. She is the only one of us human princesses' that actually has a daughter – a twelve-slash-thirteen year old one at that! I do not envy her.)

Sorry. Off track, I know. Anyways – I'm Eilonwy.

What? You can't really see me? Well then. I'm nothing too special (in terms of Disney princess looks, for goodness sakes I share nearly the exact same colouring as two other princesses – the whole golden-blonde, blue-eyed thing. Wow, stereotypical much?). At least obscurity lets me access some of my book!self's appearance, skills and characterisation (personally, I'm loving the red-gold hair highlights!).

Yay for obscurity.

So yeah, I'm guessing you can't really see my room either can you? For goodness sakes. You must be rather blur.

Well come along then.

This is my room. It's not very large and you can see the masonry – no fancy wall coverings. I've got a curtain but the medium-ish window doesn't have glass. I don't mind it. It means I can lean out of my window when the sun rises over the hills of Prydain. Besides. When you've got magic you don't really have to worry about climate-slash-pest control in your room.

I have a small sturdy bed (it's yew wood) that I've moved (by myself using a small move spell! I've been studying to improve my abilities – only being able to channel my powers through the bauble was annoying) to the north wall (yes – my room is east-facing).

Across from it is my study desk and bookshelf. I have so, so many books on magic. (I have a feeling that Dallben just shoved all his books at me. His bookshelf is so empty.) I've gotten through some of them. (Thirty-five percent of them actually – I'm rather proud of the amount I've covered; Dallben's collection is huge, he's been alive for well over three hundred years.)

So yes. I'm an enchantress. It runs in the family. My mum was one, my nana was one, and if I ever get the chance; my daughter will be one. Sitting on your butt for well over twenty years does get boring. That's why I've been studying. And enchanting swords (Taran really is… well I would say lazy like a pig but then I'd be insulting Hen Wen. But he lacks confidence – even after our movie – and I've enchanted a sword that nearly matches the one he gave up. Maybe he'd stop daydreaming and moping. I've had to take care of the last few monsters that popped up by myself!)

The west wall is where the door to enter my room is. There's a washing stand with a mirror above it and a small closet there (yes it's small. I'm an enchantress, I can magic new clothes whenever. I don't need a big closet). The taps aren't leaking today, that's good – well yes, there're taps. Just because we're slightly cut off doesn't mean modern appliances don't exist here. We just hide them when the very, very occasional tourist comes wandering through. In fact…

Come with me.

It's just a minute away anyways. The kitchen has the regular fire-pit and cauldron and hearth. But do you see that wall?

Yes?

Alright then, concentrate on it.

See it now? Yes, that's an electrical hob, an oven and a microwave. You will notice that the area around the microwave is the most used. That's because only Dallben actually knows how to cook. Taran and I kind of just shove microwavable meals in… well, the microwave. We don't have a fridge or freezer but that's because Dallben and I have enchanted those cupboards over there to act as one.

"Hello there! Mail for Her Royal Highness Princess Eilonwy!"

Snail mail? For me?

Seriously, we've all got smart phones here. Look I've left mine back in the room, but that's just because Dallben showed me a small notifications and answering spell.

Honestly. Not using technology for communication is a rather antiquated practice. Almost like telling someone in a hurry the shortcut to their destination and then them choosing the scenic route anyways.

Who doesn't use email (at least!) these days?


Um…

So. The answer to that question is the Big Mouse himself.

I've been invited to a Princess Ball.

How strange! I mean. Yeah. I thought I was supposed to be an embarrassment! Why now? Why call (not just me I'm representing my world) Prydain forward now?

It's all very confusing.

Hmm. I think I'll go find Taran now.


"Taran!"

Taran was giving Hen Wen a bath outside, just under the nearby elm. It's all very sweet. Other pigs don't like the same measure of cleanliness that we appreciate.

"Eilonwy? What's going on?"

I've just passed the invitation over to him. (It's a rather classical thing. All cream-coloured with beveled edges and golden swirls making up the classic hidden Mickey in each corner. The top has a letterhead in the style of Sleeping Beauty's castle. I won't bore you too much with the exact wording of the thing, but I love the way the 'E' of my name is illuminated. I can spy my bauble and sparks of magic as well as that dratted cauldron). I can tell that he's just as confused as I am.

"Well, first off, why didn't he just send it via courier? Prydian's mail delivery system is horrible."

Yup. He's just as confused.

"I don't really know Taran. Relying on our postal system is rather like relying on the wind to blow a flower into your hair."

One thing I like about our silences is that they're never truly awkward. Over the years, they've become comfortable – contemplative almost.

"Well," he said as he broke said comfy silence, "It's late. Shall we just toss some dinner to the microwave and then get ready to go then?"

"Sure."

I might have been a little unfair earlier. The claymore I've enchanted for Taran is strapped firmly to his back (one of the enchantments is so that the sword's size adjusting so that it'll be the correct size no matter if we're twelve, twenty-two or sixty-two – a spell Dallben and I came up with).

He's been more confident recently. I guess getting a blade back into his hands helped.

But dinner, packing and sleep sounds like a sound idea.


I've slept in today. Strange. I usually wake a bit before the sun rises so I can watch the dawn.

("Hic!")

Well that was strange. Okay, I need to go check up on Taran. I've shrunk most of my stuff for ("Hic!") the teleport down to pocket-size... Great, I have the hiccoughs. And they are so strange! ("Hic!") I must have slept funny last night.

That was weird. It almost feels like my magic is trying to ("Hic!") tell me something… maybe having some breakfast will cure it? I'm craving pancakes. Good thing we have a ("Hic!") microwavable pancake meal!

Okay. I can already tell that this is going to be more than a little… annoying. ("Hic!")

Might as well check on Taran. Maybe I'll hiccup him awake? His room is just two doors down from mine. ("Hic!") Remember, one storey farmstead. Not very big.

Gah! The feeling that I'm missing something is just niggling! ("Hic!") Like poking a giant with a stick, knowing he'll wake up, but the giant not stirring at all. ("Hic!") The giant will wake, but you don't know exactly when to bolt for your life!

("Hic!")


Like I said, Taran's room is two doors down from mine. There's a magically lit ("Hic!") silver sconce just opposite my room's door, lighting up this particular hallway, because Dallben couldn't fit in a window here. ("Hic!") Anyways, I didn't mention this before, but since you still seem to be having some trouble seeing... ("Hic!") We can tell our rooms apart just from the doors. Dallben's door is made of pine ("Hic!"), it's the lightest of the three bedroom doors. Taran's is made of oak (darkest of them). And ("Hic!") mine is made out of beech (a hue in between the two, and the warmest, I feel).

("Hic!") I've just given Taran's door a knock. He's not going to be up. I'll be barging ("Hic!") in soon. Honestly –

"Eilonwy? Are we going now then?"

– Wait he's up?

"Nope. Just making sure that you were up. Hic!"

"Hiccoughs?"

"Looks like. It's not bothering me too much."

"Well, if it isn't bothering you."

"Nope. Hic! It's bothering me but it can be ignored. What's worse is the constant, niggling feeling that I'm missing something. Hic! And I don't know what!"

"I don't know Eilonwy. But you're magic. Maybe the niggles are important."

"Hic! Don't distract me, Taran. Are you ready to head out?"

"Well. Yes!"

"I don't believe you."

Taran's left eyebrow has just risen ("Hic!") and he has thrown his door wide open (he had only opened enough to pop his head out).

His ("Hic!") room is clean, huh. I don't think I expected that. Sometimes I forget that Taran has been developing ("Hic!") too these past twenty-thirty years.

"Eilonwy."

"Yes."

"I don't know. I'm no expert, or student, of magic but…"

"What? Hic!"

"Look, why are you hiccoughing?"

"Slept funny. That's all!"

"And the niggles?"

"I get niggles all -hic!- the time! I had one just before you gobbled all of Dallben's stir-fry!"

Oh no. ("Hic!") You see, Taran (I've learned) has two, truly deadly weapons with him at all times. ("Hic!") Neither of which are the claymore I've enchanted him. He's got this shy, approval-seeking smile ("Hic!"), which I'm pretty sure is an unconscious thing. And a totally on-purpose, I-want-you-to-("Hic!")-do-this-for-me-please? Gurgi eyes.

That smile of his makes me want to approve ("Hic!") and forgive him everything. The Gurgi eyes should never be done so well, by anyone who's not Gurgi. ("Hic!") I feel awfully manipulated every time he pulls them out. Manipulated like those children who guilt ("Hic!") you into buying stuff from them! You know it's probably a bad idea, but you feel so sad for them ("Hic!") that you buy the useless items anyway!

"Please Eilonwy? Go see Hen Wen? For me?"

Emrys! ("Hic!") Those Gurgi eyes! Also, admittedly, he does seem genuinely concerned for me. I can't believe this.

"Fine. Hic! I'll go see Hen Wen. She's probably going to be as confused as I am. Hic!"

"Thank you."

And here comes the smile. Emrys save me from well-meaning farm boys!

"One -hic!- condition though Taran. That pancake meal? It's mine. No stealing it from me, otherwise there will be consequences! Hic!"

"Want me to prep it for you?"

"Yes please."

"Fine. You head to Hens and I'll do it."

"No -hic!- gobbling?"

"No gobbling. I'll prep your breakfast and keep it warm. I won't eat them. I promise!"

I ("Hic!") guess he's being sincere. But no matter! Today the fluffy, maple-ly, buttery goodness will be mine! ("Hic!")

But now Taran's making a shoo-ing motion at me. Probably trying to get me to uphold my end ("Hic!") of the deal first. Guess I'm headed to Hen Wen's now. (The Gurgi eyes are a powerful, terrible thing.)

("Hic!")


I'm getting a little frustrated now. Who hiccoughs for this long? Doesn't help that something is not quite right here… ("Hic!") Urgh!

So, Hen Wen's pen is quite near the house. But that's because, like I told you, ("Hic!") she's quite unlike the other members of her species. Her pen is clean and dry ("Hic!") and has a sturdy oak roof that we just put together last spring. There is no mud anywhere and ("Hic!") she doesn't have a trough. Instead, there's a little shelf which has a fresh jar of water, some books and ("Hic!") a large, shallow wooden bowl.

I see that someone has already filled it up. Maybe Dallben was here just now? ("Hic!") I keep telling him to clean up after he's done, the bowl might warp! It's not enchanted to protect ("Hic!") against water damage; we never really got around to it, see?

But yes, the bowl's enchanted. ("Hic!") It's enchanted so that liquids will not spill out of it. See those little carvings there? Yup. ("Hic!") That's what it's for. And no, I'm not being lazy. It's rather good magic practice to summon things to you.

("Hic!")

If the spell works right. Umm… Great. Funny, niggly feeling from my magic is back now.

("Hic!")

The bowl decided that it wanted to come to me after all. Then it stopped.

("Hic!")

There it goes again. Starting and stopping. Skittish like a shy fawn that you're offering a tender branch to.

("Hic!")

Wait, I did drink some funny tea yesterday, before bed. And those mushrooms Taran brought in the day before yesterday ("Hic!") couldn't have been great for my magic. I mean, sure Taran gobbled most of them before Dallben could, (poor ["Hic!"] Dallben, he cooked that mushroom stir fry and he didn't get to eat any), but I had some. ("Hic!") That must've messed with my magic! And those niggles when I'm hiccoughing do not help at all! ("Hic!")

The bowl is in my hand now. At least my magic still works, even though it's stuttering.

("Hic!") I'm not even going to bother with the spell. I'm just going to grab the herbology book myself.

("Hic!") There! There're two, very, very similar mushrooms here. Both look like the ones Taran brought in. ("Hic!") One's completely safe. The other… suppresses magic for a while in magic-users… Oh Emrys!

Taran! ("Hic!") This is all his fault. I guess Dallben will have to act as our transportation now. ("Hic!") Which is rather disappointing. I was looking forward to practicing teleportation. But those constant niggles! ("Hic!")

Wonder why he didn't notice it though. Then again, he's well over three hundred. He's entitled to a mistake.

("Hic!") Gah, I feel so frustrated! Annoying, niggling, niggles. Maybe Hen Wen will have some answers for me?

("Hic!") There's a stool also, in Hen Wen's pen. I've just placed it near Hen Wen and set the bowl down. ("Hic!") Hen Wen seems rather concerned. I am too. Not about the hiccoughs really or my ("Hic!") magic. (I've already determined the cause of that!) Anyways. Hen Wen is concerned in that Hen Wen way of hers. ("Hic!") All snuffly and wide eyes and worried look at me.

"I'm fine Hens. Just need –hic!– to find out something alright?"

Hen Wen nods at me. She's a very, very intelligent pig. ("Hic!") Then again, she's the only oracular pig in all the worlds!

Since my magic seems to be a little ("Hic!") wonky – oh that Taran – I'm just going to use my finger to stir the water in the bowl.

"Hic! Hen Wen, from you I do beseech. Knowledge that lies beyond my reach…"

Hen Wen's ("Hic!") head gently touches the stirring water and images begin to form. The ripples of water seem to me ("Hic!") to turn into an almost skeletal (was she anorexic or something?) woman dressed in, of all things a lab coat.

"Hic! Yzma?"

But why show me Yzma? What does she have to do with anything right now? ("Hic!") She seemed to be making a potion of sorts. And then she laughed. And then there're ("Hic!") fourteen lights flying off from it into the distance. (Just a minute to midnight too, what's the significance?) ("Hic!")

What does this all mean?

That's it. After breakfast, I'm calling Merida. She has experience with mad geniuses.

("Hic!")


AN:-

Well you're still here? That's great. That means you might be interested in joining the game.

As you've just read, the introductory scene need to be very detailed. As in, details that we otherwise might not write have to be written.

Also, I'm in a weird situation. Eilonwy is an enchantress, by right and blood. So I've had to write limitations in. We have to consider that Yzma is borrowing knowledge from all the Disney!verse's and so will have covered most of her bases. So yes, you can probably see that Eilonwy's magic stuttering is most likely a side effect of the spell. But Eilonwy doesn't know that. Because, in all honesty, yes, those mushrooms could have been the cause. After all, she's only got herself to go off of – mushroom wise. (Personally, I'm leaning towards it being a spell side effect).

The niggles are another thing. Her magic is trying to tell her something is off. Eilonwy knows something is off. Dallben (if he were to do a scan of Eilonwy) would know something is off – but they would just not be able to tell what was making them detect something was off. (According to Qoheleth, magic battles are not the point of the game – he's the DM, what the DM says goes). All they – and any other magic user would know – is that something is just not quite right.

Writing this introduction has been fun (also, not going to lie, slightly frustrating – I haven't seen the Black Cauldron in a long while starting this).

So! If you wanna join in on the game (and I hope you do). Leave a review here or send Elle Haddebarim (the account Qoheleth is hosting the game on) a PM of the princess you want to play as.

Just a warning, there's a one-princess-per-movie rule. (Although there is room for honourary princesses too - like for example, Mulan. You'll just have to PM Qoheleth about it.) On the bright side, four of the Big Six (that being Aurora, Ariel, Belle and Cinderella) haven't been taken.

The list of taken princesses are as follows:

Alice (honorary) - Gracekim1

Merida - harrypotterpercyjacksonfan

Jasmine - castellations

Pocahontas - Bexilol

Anna – embermoonlight (This means no Elsa. She's a bit busy governing Arendelle)

Snow White - Lord Patience

And, obviously (you just read the thing!) Eilonwy – Eastonia (aka me).

Cheers,

Eastonia

P/S And the pancakes? Well let's just say during the editing process I got hungry. And yes. Those pancakes were delicious.