"100 Themes Challenge"
"Theme 22: Mother"
"Where's Kamella? I wanna see Kamella! Where is she?" screamed three-year-old Prince Bowser, his little face turning red with fury as he hurled his toys at Kamek.
The Magikoopa advisor (and part-time guardian of the prince) calmly dodged every projectile, raising his voice in order to be heard. "I'm sorry, my prince, but she had to work late, and-"
"Kamellaaaaaaa!" The boy lifted something high above his head, and Kamek's eyes widened in a panic.
"No, Your Highness! Not the Chai Vase!"
SMASH!
Kamek groaned, imagining Queen Drucilla's anger if she were to find out. He could mend it, of course. With his magic, he could make it so that she would never know the difference, but he knew that it was a matter of principal. The fact that he had let it happen at all could earn him some time in the dungeon, to say nothing of what would await the prince!
"I want my Kamella story! Where is she?" The child gave a petulant stamp of his foot and cast around for something else to throw. Seeing nothing, he decided that some crocodile tears were in order. Flinging himself face-down on his bedroom floor, Prince Bowser kicked and pounded the ground with his fists. "I want it, I want it, I want iiiiit! Waaaaah!"
Such was the racket he made that neither he nor Kamek heard the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps, and he was startled into silence when this new person announced her presence with a mild scolding. "Well, really!"
Baby Bowser gulped back the wail he was about to release, and raised his surprisingly dry eyes to see who had spoken. He gasped happily, seeing his favorite caretaker standing in the doorway. "Kamella!"
The twenty-one-year-old Magikoopa did not look at all amused, however. She was tapping her foot, and her fists were planted squarely on her hips. Teal-gray eyes narrowed forbiddingly behind small oval spectacles, though by the way they twinkled one would suspect she was forcing back a grin.
"Nice timely entrance, dear sister." grumbled Kamek with more than a hint of sarcasm, restoring the shattered vase to its former blue and white hand-painted glory with a wave of his wand.
An arched eyebrow was Kamella's only sign that she had heard him, and she continued to scold the young Dragon Koopaling. "Is that any way to behave?"
The prince's grin dissolved into a quivering pout, and he lowered his head. "Mmm..."
Kamella wasn't able to keep back a fond smile as her severe demeanor lessened. "If you want your bedtime story, you apologize to Kamek and get in that bed." Bowser raised his head, looking hopeful once more, and she pointed imperiously at the bed. "Hurry, now."
Kamek folded his arms as Baby Bowser scrambled to his feet and spat out a less than sincere apology, and watched him burrow beneath the dark green coverlet. Kamella was the only person other than the Queen Mother who could make the brat obey. How, then, was Kamek the one who had to spend the most time with him?
Well, that was an easy one. Kamek had more seniority, and was quite adept at being the little brown-noser. He was sure that this couldn't have been the only reason, but in truth it all amounted to the same thing. The boy preferred Kamella for some odd reason, and Kamek was stuck in his situation.
"I'll handle things from here, Kamek, thank you." said Kamella.
"Oh, he's all yours." Kamek snorted dryly. Of course, he did not dislike the boy, but he was most definitely tired! He bowed to his Prince, more out of habit than anything else, and bade him good-night before teleporting out of the room in a bright cloud of geometrical shapes.
"Yeah, yeah, g'night an' go away." The boy waved a dismissive hand before turning his adoring gaze back to Kamella. "What's my story gonna be?" The bedclothes moved a bit as he wagged his tail.
Kamella was disappointed with Bowser's rude send-off, but she had learned to choose her battles carefully. "Well, let's see..." She came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, and he wasted no time in snuggling close at her side. "How about 'The Eye of the Beholder'?"
"Eew!" He made a face, pinching his nostrils shut. "I hate stupid girly love stories!"
"I happen to be a girl, Your Highness." She informed him, pretending to be offended.
Bowser shook his head. "No you're not, silly, you're Kamella!"
"Well, all right then...What about 'The Three Travellers'?" She suggested.
"Too short." He declared. He was stalling for time, and she knew this.
"Hmm..." Kamella adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her beak, and kept her expression as bland as possible. If she smiled too much, he would take that to mean playtime. "Maybe 'The Loneliest Boo'?"
With a groan that bordered on a growl, Prince Bowser turned over and buried his face in the depths of his pillow. "Boooooriiiiing..."
'Seems he's going to be difficult tonight...' Kamella folded her arms, the rich purple fabric of her robes whispering as she shifted. She pondered the situation for a moment, then an idea came to her. "How about a story about...a prince?"
The little boy lifted his head, finally showing some interest in one of her suggestions. "Is the prince's name Bowser?"
"Mm-hmm." Kamella nodded, and after he had cuddled up to her once more she began to tell her story, making it up as she progressed. At first, there were frequent pauses as Prince Bowser interrupted her with a question or a correction; his imagination was quite a bit bigger than he was, and he insisted that her story live up to his expectations.
"But are you sure the prince wouldn't try to talk about it first?" Kamella asked him, hiding the smirk that would give it away that she already knew the answer.
"Uh-uh!" Bowser shook his head, looking up from what he was doing; his head had been resting upon her shoulder, and he had been toying idly with her ruby brooch as he fought to stave off sleepiness. "They shoulda listened when he told 'em to open up. Now he's mad, and he's gonna bash 'em!"
"Is he, now? Well, all right." Kamella nodded dutifully, and continued on with the story.
Bowser yawned widely, not bothering to cover his mouth, and listened quietly now as he lightly ran his thumb over the smooth surface of the brooch's top facet. He could see himself reflected back, his young features taking on a reddish cast in that icy stone. He heaved a contented sigh through his nose, then inhaled again to sample the perfume she always wore. Floral, with a base note of patchouli; a slight odor of potion-making clung to her as well, but it wasn't strong enough to be unpleasant. The little boy liked the smell, and would forever associate it with warmth and comfort.
Kamella's voice had softened to an almost dreamlike monotone as she brought her tale to a close. "And so it came to pass that, on the day he took a bride-many years in the future, when he had, for the most part, put away childish things-that the prince became a strong and mighty king. The end...or is it?"
"Mmh..." Prince Bowser smiled groggily. "I liked that one. 'Cept for when he marries an icky girl."
Kamella smiled and wasn't offended; he was only three, after all. "Are you ready to dream about your adventures?"
"Uh-huh." He nodded, yawning again and rubbing his eyes with his small, chubby fists.
She tucked him in well, and on impulse she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. As she was turning to go, he mumbled sleepily, "G'night, Mama..."
Kamella felt her heart give a peculiar, icy flutter in her chest before it turned over and melted warmly. When she found her voice, she whispered back, "Good night, little prince..."
After the deaths of her husband and her own small son, which had occurred a mere two years ago, Kamella had thought it would be impossible to feel anything like that again.
