Midsummer Madness
(The plot of A Midsummer Night's Dream done Abhorsen style. I blame this all on my six-hour study session for my Midsummer final. I was thinking in rhymed verse. And, well…this sort of appeared. Absolute fluff, so its nowhere near perfectly accurate, and I had to alter a few parts to fit, and throw in a lot of OC's (a lot being about three). Ah, well. Oh, and
I am not Shakespeare. I am not Garth Nix. I own none of their characters/plot/books/plays (or any of their talent. )
Lirael moved with purpose through the sea of bustling servants. With only four days to the wedding, every corner of he already-gleaming palace had to be scrubbed to a near-blinding brightness in preparation. Even Rogir, brought to the palace for the purpose of 'keeping an eye on the little blighter' had been forced to retreat to the highest corner of the tower to nap.
The dark-haired Abhorsen-in-Waiting frowned slightly, looking at all the gleaming corners. It was unnerving to live in such an unnaturally clean place. Frankly, she rather liked dust bunnies. Their presence signified that the people living inside were sane.
A passing maid absently lifted a dust cloth, ready to clean Lirael before she realized it was a human, and scurried away. Lirael promptly retreated to the relative safety of the balcony. She smiled as she saw who it was leaning over the balcony.
"Boo," she said to her fiancé, grabbing him from behind to make him jump.
"Had to escape the crazed cleaning too, eh?" he chuckled, once he was over his start.
She nodded. "I wonder if Ellimere heard the hundred times I tried to tell her we wanted a small wedding."
"I doubt it," Nick grinned ruefully. "I wish these blasted preparations were over. Does it really take five hundred long-stemmed white roses for me to marry you?"
"Depends on who you ask," smiled Lirael. "Ellimere would say it takes at least a thousand."
"Speak of the devil…" muttered Nick as a rather stone-faced Ellimere came storming onto the balcony, three gentlemen in tow.
"Sam! Why can't you just accept that Harper and I are in love!" cried Ellimere.
Sameth was rather red in the face, and his eyes flashed storm clouds at the blond gent who was holding Ellimere's hand protectively.
"Sam," Lirael asked quietly, "what's wrong?"
"Sabriel, Nick," he said shortly. "This two faced lying bastard was snogging my sister."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sam!" cried Ellimere. "It was a kiss! One kiss! We've known each other for years."
"How well have you known each other?" muttered Sam rather darkly.
"Oh, just drop it, Sameth," yelled his sister. "Harper is the sweetest, ki…"
"He's a liar, and you're not going to the wedding on his arm!"
"Yes, I am!" Ellimere yelled back, dashing down the steps, a stumbling Harper in tow.
"Ellimere!" protested a tanned youth by Sam's side. "Why won't you go with me? And Harper, it's clear her family doesn't welcome you. Give up your crazy scheme and let me take her."
"If Sam approves of you so much," seethed the rather insulted Harper, "Then take him! Besides, Tercel, didn't I see you in the rose garden with Sanar just last week?"
The affronted Tercel protested, and Sam's face turned an interesting shade of purple at Harper's insinuation.
"You little…." started Sam, but Nick caught his one arm, and Lirael caught the other. Ellimere and her beau dashed away, the tan gent not far behind. "I'm going to get that…" hissed the incensed prince.
"Nonsense, Sam," broke in his aunt. "Ellimere is perfectly capable of choosing who she'll take to the ball."
"You heard him," cried Sam. "He insulted me to my face."
"Better than doing it behind your back," grinned Nick cheerfully. "Just give it a few days, Sam. If this Harper is truly as odious as you say he is, she'll be sure to come around."
Slowly, Sam calmed down, and nodded, seeing the sense in that. "But I will talk to her beforehand, and see if she's come to a decision. The right decision," he clarified, and stormed away.
Nick sighed. "I'll go check on him," he offered, and trailed after his friend, as his betrothed decided to go check on her niece.
Deep in the garden, Ellimere and Harper shared a relieved sigh as Tercel's agitated voice faded out of hearing. "I think we've finally lost him," smiled Ellimere.
"This is ridiculous," sighed Harper, brushing a strand of dark hair from Ellimere's face. "Why can't anyone accept that we want to, that we're meant to be together?"
"Ellimere!" called Lirael's searching voice.
"Not again!" Ellimere said, exasperated. "I've got to go."
"You do," agreed Harper, bending to plant a quick kiss on her lips. "Meet me here tonight, so we can figure out what to do."
"I will," promised Ellimere, before running to find Lirael.
(so…R&R?)
