Lotte: Okay, so for the people that (god forbid) haven't seen the 10th kingdom that still manage to stumble into this story, do read on by all means. What you need to know about the main character in the story of ours is that Wendell is the spoiled prince that was turned into a dog by the stepmother of evilness, and Tony is the man that previously was married to her, and also the only one Wendell was able to speak to as a dog. Tony's from our world, Wendell's from fairyland, and that's where the story takes place. Virgina is Tony's daughter who basically saves the day by killing her mother (Luke-complex, I think that's called...) and gets the guy. She's hot. Wolf is the guy, and he's even hotter. And this is a lesbian writing!
Oh, and SEE THE MOVIE. You want to. You really want to.
Lotte's introduction
Well, it goes like this… We were watching the 10th Kingdom, naturally, and I suddenly pointed at the screen, going, "Oh my god, they're so slashable!". I was, as you might have guessed – or possibly not – referring to Tony and Wendell. My friend Hanna went something like, "Oh, urgh, the wrongness!" and she laughed at my stroke of genius. But then she started to think about it, and dangerous things happens when that happens… And that, as they say, was that. We had to do it. (No! Get your mind out of the gutter right now, thank you.) There actually was no way of not doing it.
So while some of you might be somewhat disturbed by the thought of a middle-aged, not very slim, balding man having sex with anyone, and especially an extremely gay young blond full of doggish charm… well, we're here to tell you that it probably has happened before, out of our sick minds, and besides, it's absolutely adorable. To quote Wolf: "It's perfectly normal!"
So, sexual innuendoes and BIG bones galore ahead, my friends! Let's all lean back and enjoy one seasoned slasher and her highly talented accomplice doing what they do best. I will be writing Tony and she will be writing Wendell… more or less. We can't look at anything for long without manipulating it, so we're going to influence each other.
And during the long dialogues, we are of course fighting like hyenas over the keybord.
Hoo-haa!
Hanna's introductionWell, there is never much to add when the lovely Lotten has spoken, so I'll be brief.
Welcome to the mayhem that happens when I get to dabble at storytelling!
Since I'm the newbie maybe I should tell you a bit about myself…Er… Just imagine what would happen if Wolf had been a really repressed girl and you sort of get a hint of my personality. I'm absolutely bonkers, but with a lot of common sense (don't ask me to explain how that works) and I believe that is reflected in my stories.
I am a high-maintenance genius and need to get constantly kicked in the but to keep creating…whatever, thankfully Lotten is with us on this one so It'll probably get finished, oh yay.
Okay, so this wasn't really brief, but never mind that and I do hope you'll enjoy our weirdly winding tale of middle aged love and Wolf worship!
Prologue
The traveller's guide to fairyland looks quite a lot like an old tattered notebook. There is a multitude of loose papers stuck in it that never falls out, and no matter how many people that submits their wisdom to it there are always a few blank pages at the very back. Still, it never gets too thick to comfortably carry around in your pocket.
Handy, that.
When you open it, it rustles comfortingly, as to tell you that everything is going to be just fine. Which is a big fat lie of course, because no one ever got to Happily Ever After without quite a lot of effort, but still, if you follow the basic advice handed down by all those who ever fell through a mirror, a closet, a rabbit whole or whatnot, you might find that the practical day to day events at least will be somewhat easier to handle.
And now, you lay eyes on the first rule of The Travellers.
1. You never know when you might stumble upon a magical portal to a parallel universe, and therefore it is always good to carry a large stock of condoms at all times.
This applies to women interested in having sex with other women too, since a condom can, with imagination and a pair of scissors, quite easily be converted into a convenient barrier between a tongue and… other stuff.
If you don't know why this rule is the first one, you've obviously never met Wolf.
Fairyland can never be as simple as you're made to believe when you're a kid. What Wolf had said about either living happily ever after or dying of horrible curses was more a tribute to his naiveté than an accurate description. Sometimes, love ended not with death, but with boredom. Sometimes, the wicked witch was slightly more human than you really wanted her to be. Sometimes, True Love's First Kiss came only after True Love's First Slap, True Love's First Argument and True Love's First Sharp Knee In The More Tender Parts… or, as it were, a broom.
And sometimes, you think you are Prince Charming marrying the princess, only to wake up one day realising that the only royal thing that has happened to you is being royally screwed.
Then again, it wasn't as if there ever had existed an Unhappily Ever After. There was always a chance of improvement, whatever the storytellers said about it. So even if you married the Evil Queen – be it because you were too infatuated to see what was coming for you, or too self-absorbed to notice – there was no actual rule saying that you couldn't have a second go at True Love. Humans, as a rule, do not mate for life.
And if no princesses are available, and you realise that you actually aren't that charming – and that your hair is falling out, yes, thank you – then maybe you can find a Handsome Prince of your own and bollocks to the royal succession.
But there are some rules that need to be followed, nonetheless. First and foremost, every story has to start somewhere, and once upon a time usually does the trick. What time, you wonder. Well, it was like this…
Chapter OneMoron
Once upon a time, a prince lived happily in his huge castle, and he had more young menservants in minimal clothing than he could possibly shag and still have time to eat and sleep. He also had the kind of menservants that organised meetings, colour-coded parties and handled the fine points of diplomacy that the prince otherwise had the unlucky tendency of trying to solve by looking vague and going, "Just give them a bone." This was not so much stupidity from his part as much as a really short attention-span and the lingering effects of being golden retriever-shaped for far too long.
Tony wondered what on earth Wendell needed to have him around for, since he now had seven bouncing bloody castles (imported) in different parts of the kingdom, and had given several away as gifts. It wasn't that he minded, as such, it was just that he clearly wasn't useful for very much at all. And as nice as it was to think that he was being kept there by the prince for his charming company, he still had just enough perception of self to realise that this might not be entirely true.
There was a peal of girlish laughter from the next room, and Tony lowered his book and sighed in mild dismay. He hadn't been much for reading back in what he still persisted to call the real world, but there really wasn't much to occupy oneself with here (even bouncing castle had their limited value when it came to amusement). However, he still wasn't very used to reading, and it generally craved a lot of concentration from his part, and since peace and quiet was a bit hard to come by at the castle, so was concentration.
When he complained to Wendell, the prince… sorry, king would just shrug and suggest that he could go for a stroll in the forest. To which Tony would somewhat testily reply that after having dragged a solid gold dog through miles and miles of forest, he wasn't very inclined to venture into even the smallest patch of greenery, ever again. And Wendell would snap back that if Tony hadn't turned him into gold in the first place… And so they would continue, until either of them got weary – in Tony's case – or bored – in Wendell's case – and stalk away, muttering to themselves.
"Oh, aren't you the King's manservant?" A woman wearing a ridiculously large crinoline had just appeared in the doorway, hiding large parts of her face behind a frilly, flowery fan and flapping inch-long lashes at him. "But aren't you a funny little man?"
Tony was suddenly and unpleasantly reminded of Sally Peep, and shuddered. "You're the new lady in court," he guessed. "Delly-something."
He was pleased to see a frown of irritation marring the powdered forehead, and she lowered her fan as if taken aback. "Lady Delvehn, if you please, sir," she answered with a chirpy playfulness that certainly wasn't genuine.
"Delighted to make your acquaintance, I'm sure, lady Dellyven." Tony had tried courtly manners, and had decided that they weren't for him. This had caused a bit of a stir, until Wendell with magnanimous indifference had proclaimed that Tony was a bit of an eccentric. Cinderella had declared herself perfectly amused, and everyone had just smiled along with her.
A series of expressions flitted across the girl's doll-like features, like a sequence of slides. Shock was followed by vexation and outrage, and then by confusion and eventually caution. Then, apparently gaining control of herself, she plastered a huge, sticky smile over all this. Flap-flap went the lashes.
"Tell me, since you are the king's friend…" She was virtually purring, her voice dripping with honey and sprinkled with sugared violets. "…what kind of a man is he? What is he like?"
Oh! Oh…
The kindest and most honest thing was obviously to reply something like, "gay as bloody Christmas". But Tony wasn't feeling very inclined towards kindness at the moment, and when was he ever inclined towards honesty? So he put on a sad, concerned face and shook his head, like perhaps a worried uncle – a disgusting thought, really – would.
"Oh, he is a lonely man, my lady. He needs the gentle hand of a woman to guide him. It's lonely at the top and all that." He gestured vaguely.
Lady Delvehn's eyes shone with badly concealed lust. "Is that so? The poor, poor dear…" she murmured, her fingers tightly gripping her fan and Tony wondered if he perhaps was being far too cruel.
After all, Wendell was probably going to be absolutely traumatized.
The young kingling in question was sulking, sitting in front of a large mirror looking rather a lot like a sad puppy.
It had all been so much easier when he was care- and clueless.
Before being transformed into a dog, he'd probably been the worst ruler in the history of the 4th kingdom. He'd done nothing about The Huntsman skulking about in his forests, allowed prisoners to live on a diet entirely consisting of beanstalk and hadn't made the slightest effort to ease the tense relationships between humans and wolves which had resulted in tragic deaths on all sides.
Oh, and let's not forget the fact that he'd given the trolls a disgusting, polluted land to call their kingdom, opening the door for his evil stepmother to get a war started.
And the worst part was, no one seemed to be angry with him!
He deserved anger, he deserved bloody riots! But everyone was just so bleeding happy that everything was back to the way it "should be" that no one seemed inclined to do anything of the sort.
How could he had been allowed to shame the name of White in that manner?
Well, again, he was to blame. He'd surrounded himself with senile old poofs more concerned with matching their gloves to their shoes than the state of the kingdom, and the one sensible person of the lot had gotten killed by The Huntsman, who was roaming free because Wendell hadn't stopped him. It was the mother of all vicious circles.
He was far into an impressively long inner monologue about his own wickedness when he got interrupted by someone knocking at the door. His facial expression was that of a disturbed and slightly insulted speaker when he opened the door, but he managed to soften his features before smiling down at the young woman standing before him.
"Lady Delvehn, what and unexpected pleasure," he lied with the ease that comes from growing up at court. A visit from Delvehn was hardly unexpected since he was well aware of just how badly she wanted to be queen, and it most certainly wasn't a pleasure.
"Oh, your majesty, the pleasure is all mine," she answered and he could see with disturbing clarity just how much she meant it.
"Do come in," he gestured for her to enter his private chambers and tried very hard not to gag when she swooped past him in a sickeningly sweet cloud of perfume. This woman was an abomination!
"I was talking to your, is it architect you call him?" She chirped whilst settling down on a couch with her voluminous skirt billowing around her.
"If you are referring to Tony, then yes."
"Well, we had the most lovely conversation, we really had!"
As Delvehn's eyes became distant and she was totally enraptured in her own brilliance, talking about how Tony'd been telling her about the hardships of being a ruler, a terrible realisation dawned upon Wendell and he suddenly had a very hard time suppressing a growl. This was Tony's doing!
Wendell's plan had been to gently discourage the young woman from her wedding plans by dropping careful hints of having "other interests" but the frigging idiot had gone and positively assured her that he'd be very susceptible to her "charms" and he could see in her eyes that not even letting her catch him in bed with some random man would stop her now. She'd gone positively berserk!
"I am so sorry to interrupt you, milady, but I just realised that I have some rather urgent business to tend to, so if you'll excuse me," he said, and without bothering to await her answer went out the room as quickly as he could without loosing composure. Once out of the doors he yelled at the top of his lungs, "ANTHONY!"
Tony had gone back to his book, but was interrupted just minutes later by a bellow that echoed through the marble halls of the castle. Raising his head with a vaguely puzzled expression, wondering if he had heard it right, he beheld a gaggle of terrified servants stumbling into the room.
"Please, master Anthony," panted one of them, a man he recognised as the chief butler. "The king requests your presence. It's rather urgent."
Tony wondered how someone who lived in fairyland – the man sported green antennae, for crying out loud! – could sound so intensely British.
"ANTHONY! HERE! NOW!"
Tony grimaced. He had a feeling the king had not taken his little joke very well.
"Where is he?" he wondered, trying not to sound too intimidated.
"Oh, he should be about-"
"Here," Wendell said, coldly. As if on cue, the servants seemed to evaporate on the spot. Wendell bared his teeth, the compulsion to bite almost too powerful to resist.
"Moron! You absolute dunderhead!"
"What?" Tony said, striving to look innocent.
"Like you don't know! Coxcomb!"
"I have no idea what you're on about," Tony said, knowing he was taking the innocence-act too far but quite incapable of thinking of some other way of tackling an enraged, growling king.
Wendell's hands were opening and closing repeatedly, longing to throttle the man before him.
"I am trying to run a kingdom here, and the last thing I need is buxom maidens throwing themselves on me, goaded on by your dim-witted manipulating meddling!"
"Oh, come on, there's nothing wrong with some beautiful ladies, eh?" Tony said in a miserable attempt to ease the tension that was almost making the paint crack on the walls.
Wendell's face went a rather becoming shade of red that perfectly matched his golden curls. "Well, if you think she's so damn beautiful why don't you shag her and then maybe she'd get off my back!"
Tony couldn't hold back a grimace, which he tried to disguise as a small cough. "Oh, but it's the king she wants," he said, blandly. Something about how Wendell had delivered that last line made him feel rather pleased with himself.
"And I don't suppose you give a rat's ass about what I want, do you? I am trying to rebuild my kingdom here, you miserable piece of crap! I know you were busy chasing that mirror around, so maybe you didn't notice that THE TROLLS INVADED! PEOPLE DIED!" He had to take a few calming breaths, "and it's all my fault."
"Oh." Chastised, Tony looked away, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt. "I didn't mean to … I mean… And how can that be your fault? You were a dog. A very lovely dog," he added quickly, not wanting to pull down the king's wrath upon him again, "but still… a dog."
Wendell pulled a hand through his hair, his face slowly returning to it's normal colour. "I know you didn't… mean it like that, and it is my fault, I gave the trolls that awful place to live in and kept all the good land for myself. Okay, the trolls aren't very nice as a species, but that's no reason to treat them like refuse. I gave them a reason to want to invade, and my stepmother used that." Wendell realised with a start that he had no idea why he was telling Anthony all this, and he went abruptly silent.
Bewildered by Wendell so suddenly going from fuming to guilt ridden and pathetic, Tony resisted a vague urge to pet him. "Uhm… Okay, that's stupid, yes, but it wasn't your fault that Christine… well, that wasn't your fault, alright? Why don't you just… take a bath or something, and I go tell Lady Delvehn that you're gayer than a picnic-basket and wants her to drop dead…" Tony, realising that he had actually said that, not just thought it, began backing towards the door. "I shall just… go… Right?"
Wendell open and closed his mouth a few times, the anger almost completely forgotten, before managing to squeeze out, "Am I really that obvious?"
Caught by surprise by the question, Tony replied with the absolute truth. "Yes. Yes, you really are, I'm sorry to- well, not sorry, of course, I mean, just… you… Well. You are." And with that wonderfully coherent shamble of words, he fled.
A little while later Wendell was soaking in the bath suggested by Anthony, trying to make sense of what had happened. He'd been so angry, and then suddenly he just…wasn't.
Part of the explanation was of course the fact that when he was a dog, Wendell had begun to think of Anthony more an more in terms of "master" rather than the "manservant" that he'd started out with.
The part of his mind that was still a dog really resented being aggressive towards Master, and that made it quite difficult to have arguments with Tony.
But there had to be more to it than that, he'd become quite good at overriding his lapses back into doggieness. Then… what? Why was it so easy to forgive Anthony for all his silly and quite unnecessary displays of just how much of an ass he could be?
He sloshed the water around a bit, trying to wrap his brain around a completely mind boggling concept.
Could it be that he was actually… attracted to Anthony? But he was old! And balding! And he had a beer belly! It couldn't possibly be so!
But of course, it was.
Once he'd allowed himself to admit the possibility, Wendell was overwhelmed with the feeling of things falling into place, and it was terrifying.
He'd know that he was gay from the moment he entered puberty. Everyone knew of course, but it wasn't spoken of and it had been assumed by all, including Wendell himself, that he'd get married despite this and produce an heir.
This had not been a problem, because, though numerous, none of his relationships had been…well…real. There had been no depth, and so that was the level of commitment Wendell thought he'd be expected to give an eventual wife.
Now he was facing an emotional complexity that hinted at the most unbelievable possibilities, and he knew he was in deep shit.
Deep shit would be the words Tony would at the moment use to describe Delvehn's mind. She was blinking at him – he was almost sure that he could feel a draft coming from those fanning lashes – and looking so blue-eyedly and lip-poutingly confused that he was quite sure that none of what he was saying was making an impression.
"The king is happy? Well, isn't that good?"
If Wendell had unwanted impulses concerning biting and growling, Tony suddenly had a terrible urge to shake that girl to see if he could hear her brain rattling around in her skull, like a ping-pong ball on a string.
"Look, he's just… uninterested. Okay? I was telling you a horrible lie and I'm really sorry for that and will you please just leave him alone?" He drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself a bit and stop himself from rambling more than he already had.
Delvehn once more blinked. "Oh, sir, you're confusing me. Could you perchance repeat that… a bit slower?"
Tony wondered if she would take the hint even if Wendell would be prancing around in front of her in a dress, and decided that no, not even then. And as far as he knew, being a cross dresser was at least one of very few things that Wendell wasn't, when it came to the gay stereotypes that living in New York generally fed you with.
"He doesn't feel ready to commit," he said, resigning to the old cliché when all else failed. "Wants to stretch his wings, be a free spirit… you know?"
"But you said…"
"Forget what I said. I'm an eccentric, the king said so himself. You're not supposed to listen to what I say!" This was exasperating. Screw dignity, he just wanted to get away from this she-beast as quickly as it was even possible. So, he very manfully mumbled some nonsense about having to tend to his sick uncle Fergus and bravely ran away.
Wendell wanted to run away real badly, but where would he go? He was regent of the 4th kingdom, a regent without an heir, and it was becoming painfully clear that an heir would never be produced. He had single-handedly ended the house of White!
He was shivering now, and not just because the bath water was running cold. It would be quite impossible to get a wife, not only because he now knew with a very final certainty that he could never feel anything remotely sexual for a woman, but because he was in love. With Anthony.
He was in love with a man that had shown no interest in men whatsoever.
Oh, bollocks…
Having eluded her mental Ladyship, Tony went looking for Wendell. Since some obscure part of him was convinced that Wendell would do as he ordered him, he thus figured him to be taking a bath. The public ones downstairs were empty save a grumpy centaur being rubbed down by a nervous servant, so Tony instead headed for the royal bedchambers.
He found Wendell wrapped in a towel on the edge of his bed, blond hair falling in sad wisps around a… well, a doggy-eyed face.
"Uhm… Your Majesty?"
Wendell nearly jumped right out of his skin, and came dangerously close to dropping the towel. That would have been unfortunate since he was sporting an enormous erection sprung from nervous energy and experimental thinking about Anthony in various situations. All in all, this was not a good moment for him to meet the object of his newly discovered affections.
"Anthony! Go away! I mean…don't…I mean…Uh…Gha!"
Way to go Wendell, you handled that one just splendidly…"Your Majesty? Are you quite… alright?"
Okay, think! You have to be at least vaguely coherent this time!"Anthony…You never call me Your Majesty…Has something happened?"
Damned right it has!"Uh… I just didn't want to upset you… again… Oh, and I talked to that woman and… well… I didn't really get through."
Wendell tried to make himself more comfortable on the bed, and made no small effort to arrange the towel to conceal his current penis situation.
"Oh, I didn't really think you would, she is positively the most dense creature I've ever met, and having you to measure by that's saying a lot," he said with a slight smile thinking back on the various occasions he'd had good reason to question Anthony's intelligence. Just to mention an example, how about when he'd been turned into solid gold?!
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Tony muttered rather sourly. "I appreciate the special place I have in your heart."
You have no idea…Wendell suppressed a whimper and felt some added pain in the groin area. This was getting more and more awkward by the second, and if he got any harder he'd explode!
"Erhm," he said, crossing his legs and squishing his crown jewels between his thighs, "I'll figure out some way to get rid of her, thanks for the effort…"
Tony walked a bit closer, tilting his head and squinting at Wendell. "Uhm… Are you feeling well? Should I send for the quacks? I mean, doctors."
Yes, do that. Send for the doctors and tell them the king is suffering from acute erection! Why did he have to do The Squint at me? And he's getting closer!
"I'm fine," Wendell replied, his voice travelling upwards on the scale.
"You don't sound fine," Tony answered a bit dubiously, concerned in spite of himself, and placed a tentative hand on Wendell's shoulder.
Wendell shot up as if someone had set off a firecracker under his ass, clutching the towel with panic racing through every vein, and probably oozing out of his pores too.
"I'm just dandy, really! I'm just gonna go and have a nice cold bath now…"
"But you've just had a-"
But the king was already gone. Shaking his head and muttering something about rabid dogs and crazed monarchs, Anthony left the room.
Now wasn't that fun? Let's torture Wendell some more, how about it? Ah, I knew you'd say yes.