The servant door burst open with an ear-splitting crash, and the prince stormed out of it. He encountered no resistance. No shouts of "Prince Damian, calm down!" or "Don't forget your cloak!" follow him. Everybody in the palace knew that if the second prince was in a rage, then that was their cue to stay far, far away.

He was known for his uncontrollable bursts of anger. He would take the servant spiral staircase before launching himself into the stable yard, either to run out his energy, or to saddle a horse and ride for miles until his anger simmered. That day was a disgustingly sunny day given how angry he felt, so he stomped through the hard ground, and the surrounding forest until he reached a place where he could finally breathe.

Stella Lake.

It shimmered in the beautiful summer day, reflecting back an azure blue sky. Dazzling and perfect and-

The surface of the lake rippled from the rock that Damian just threw in it. The sudden noise and movement startled the surrounding birds to fly off into the distance, but Damian doesn't care. He threw one rock after another, making the biggest noises and ripples that he could. Then he scuffed the dirt with his priceless leather shoes, and even turned to berate the trees by the lake's edge.

He punched the bark of the tree, not even caring the hard blows brought blood to the surface of his knuckles.

"Screw this!" he shouted. "Fuck this! Damn Father! Damn Mother! And fuck everything else!" He punctuated his exclamations with punches.

Even though the anger burned within him, it didn't take long until he had run out of breath and all he could do was collapse against the roots of the trees.

"Why don't they listen to me?" he threw his in his hands. "Why do they want me to.. To…"

He couldn't even build the strength to say it out loud.

Now that he had worked through most of the anger, he felt the energy suddenly drain from him, and instead of another scream, something like a sob escaped him.

This was so embarrassing. Prince Damian Desmond never cries.

But with nobody around, he let it all come to the surface. He screamed in frustration and punched the ground, scattering yet more dirt.

He moves to sit in the ground, his breath shallow and unsteady, and then he made his way over to Stella Lake.

His reflection looked awful. Red-rimmed eyes and dirt encrusted skin met his gaze.

He plunged his face into the water and screamed. Bubbles raged around him, and when he ran out of breath he threw his head back, spraying water everywhere. He pooled some of the water in his hands and used it to wash his face.

The coolness of the water took some of the heat from his rage, and Damian felt himself starting to calm down.

"Those… damn…"

He couldn't find the malice in himself to snarl their names any more, but he didn't want to go back.

He let himself sit back against the tree, and took in the scene before him.

The lake really was beautiful. He had spent so many summers swimming in it, taking the boat and everything. He scrunched up another bunch of pebbles in his hand and threw it into the lake, and watched the ripple spread out across the water.

It was calm. Relaxing. He could easily wile away the hours here while he waited for the storm in his brain to subside.

He reached behind him and grabbed something that was not a pebble.

"Argh!" Damian let go immediately and leaped back from the squishy thing he had just grabbed.

His eyes found what he was looking for. A small green frog lay on its back, its arms and legs spinning in the effort to grasp the air.

Damian eyed the pitiful thing curiously. It didn't seem to be righting itself.

He slowly reached towards the frog, his movements careful and deliberate. "I'm sorry, that was an accident, I'm not going to hurt you…"

It wasn't slimy, like he expected. Its skin was soft, more like velvet. He turned the frog over slowly onto its' front and was slightly surprised when the frog didn't panic or leap away from him. He placed it gently back on the ground, then sat back some distance, and watched it shake itself off. Like the kind of shake that dogs do to dry themselves.

He watched the frog, thinking that now that it was free, it would hop back into the water, but it stared straight at him. He wondered if the frog knew he was trying to help.

The more that he looked at the little frog, the more it fascinated him. It looked quite delicate. While its underbelly was a dusty pink colour, the rest of its skin had a vivid green tint, save for a stripe of rosy pink down its back. It also looked at him with eyes even more vividly green than its skin. They didn't look like normal frog's eyes.

Damian felt the sudden and stupid urge to talk to it. It seemed to be waiting for something.

"I didn't mean to pick you up like that," he explained softly. "I was just angry and I.. well.. You gave me a bit of a fright. I'm sorry."

The frog looked towards the lake, and Damian felt his shoulders relax. It was weird that wildlife had stuck around his long, but it was nice to see-

"It's okay."

Damian froze.

He didn't say that, did he?

Where did that voice come from?

He whipped his head round, trying to see if someone had followed him, or if they were playing a practical joke on him. Was it his brother? Or someone else that he recruited? Was it a cruel joke from the housekeeping staff?

It looked like noone was around him, but when Damian turned back round, his breath caught in his chest.

The frog had moved closer to him.

His heart thundered in his ears as the impossible occurred to him.

It seemed to occur to the frog too.

"Are you from the castle?" it said in a curious voice. Damian watched its mouth move, watched it form those words, heard in the way that it spoke that this was an undeniable reality.

Damian didn't have a choice, really.

He fainted.

The first thing he felt was pain. The back of his head thrummed, and he swore he could see his own pulse in his eyelids.

Damian groaned, and blinked awake.

The sun had clearly taken a bit of a journey across the sky, and it looked like it was around afternoon.

He looked around him. Stella Lake glimmered as lovely as ever, but Damian's gaze was immediately drawn to the little creature by the waterside.

Watching him.

Its large green eyes looked like it could stare into his soul.

Damian gulped as the memory of what happened earlier floated hazily back to him. It couldn't have been real, right?

The frog hopped closer to him and looked up with huge emerald eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"AHHHHH!" Damian shouted and shuffled back, dirtying himself even more. His heart thundered in his chest.

The frog tilted its head at him, inquisitive.

Damian was speechless. So this frog could talk… and it was talking to him. He tried to calm his heart, and his breath. Meanwhile, the frog stared at him the whole time. It didn't even blink.

"Uh…" he croaked. "Is this a prank or something?"

The frog tilted its head. "Why would Anya prank you?"

Damian wasn't going to ask how it knew what a prank was. He swallowed. "Uh."

Now that this reality was starting to settle on him, Damian realised that he had no idea how to talk to a frog.

He remembered the question they asked him earlier. It was only polite to answer, right?

"Um. I'm okay now. I think." He looked at the darkening sky above him. "What happened?"

The frog sat on its hind legs (if that was possible), and seemed to fidget with its hands. (Paws? Legs?). "Anya scared you. You fell and hit your head. I think it's been a while. The sun has moved in the sky."

Damian nodded slowly, but a twinge at the back of his head reminded him of the fall that he had taken. He touched it gingerly and looked at his fingers. No blood, so at least that was good.

"Okay," he said to himself. "I won't freak out anymore. Promise." His brow furrowed at something that the frog said. "Anya?"

The frog perked up. "Yes?"

"Oh," said Damian. "Is that your name? Anya?"

The frog nodded, and if a frog could smile, it was beaming at him. "That's me! I'm Anya!"

Then the smile faded from its face. "Anya heard you being upset. Anya was going to ask you what is wrong. Anya is a good listener."

Damian sat up a bit more gingerly, and regarded the creature before him.

It was kind of cute in a way. Weird. And a little gross. He had never really been within speaking distance to a frog before, but it wasn't a bad experience so far.

"I'm, um," he couldn't believe he was talking with a frog. He was actually talking with a frog. "I had a fight with my parents."

The frog called Anya frowned. "Why?"

"Um." It was so embarrassing. Would she even know what he was talking about?

Damian caught himself. He just called it a "she". He eyed Anya carefully. He had no idea how to check if a frog was a female - and he had a feeling it would be very rude if he tried - but something about Anya just gave him a feeling that she was female. Maybe it was her soft voice, or the pink parts of her body, or her large inquisitive eyes, or the way that she sat still, waiting for him to speak and to listen to him.

Whatever. He would roll with it.

"They want me to agree to an arranged marriage," said Damian eventually. "I'm of age now apparently, but I'm really angry because they never forced my older brother to get married." Pink dusted his cheeks. "That's why I was shouting, and hitting stuff, and…"

Something dawned on him.

"I didn't scare you, did I?"

The frog hunched a little, and Anya looked a bit sheepish. "Anya was a little scared. Anya thought you had come to get her."

"Oh," Damian blinked. "I'm, uh, sorry about that."

She shook her little head. "Anya already said it's okay."

"Right," said Damian, feeling a little stupid.

He was talking. To a frog.

Damian puzzled over what Anya had just said. He was curious, there was no denying it. "Is there someone after you?"

Anya shifted her weight, unsettled. "Anya doesn't want to say."

The way she shifted looked so cute. She looked so forlorn, almost like a puppy.

Damian brightened with an idea.

"We could take it in turns," he said, and Anya lifted her head in surprise at him. "I-I mean. You're asking me a lot of questions. It's not fair, y'know? We should take it in turns."

"Oh," said Anya. "Okay." She seemed to take a moment to think about it before she nodded more enthusiastically, and waited for him to say something next.

Damian took a deep breath and asked the most pressing question on his mind. "Why can you talk?"

Anya pressed her lips together, and the line made her eyes only stand out more. "Anya was cursed… by the witch Yorticia."

Damian froze, and ice filled his veins. "The Yorticia?"

Anya nodded.

He leaned back in shock. "She's real?"

"Mm-hmm," said Anya, and nodded, but she didn't say anything else.

Damian momentarily forgot about their game. "I thought she was just a fairy story. Or something that parents make up to get their kids to behave."

Anya shrugged, and looked away. "Yorticia is… very secretive. And she has a bit of a temper. But I think the stories are worse than the truth."

"Well, I mean she cursed you. That's pretty bad," he said instinctively, but then he thought about it. "But I guess being able to talk isn't really a curse. It doesn't seem too bad."

"Yeah," agreed Anya sullenly, but before he could ask any more she lifted her face up to him. "Now it's my turn! Are you from the castle?"

Damian grimaced. "Um, yeah. I live there." He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell her.

She regarded his clothes with a discerning look. "You're all dirty. So I guess you could be a servant or a cook or something. Or a stableboy."

Damian felt a laugh rise in his throat. "I guess I do look pretty bad, huh." He steadied his breath. It came out of him automatically. "I'm the second scion of the kingdom."

Anya tilted her head, and a clear look of confusion crossed her face. "Sy…on?"

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

Damian grimaced, suddenly realising that he didn't want to explain any further. It seemed wrong to complain to a frog about being a prince and living a life of royalty. He hoped that she wouldn't notice that he ignored the question.

Then it was his turn. "Are you… a girl?"

"I am!" Anya beamed. "You can tell?"

"Well," Damian blushed. "Not really, but, I dunno, you don't seem very…" he could find the word for it.

A few moments passed, and it was clear that he would never find the word he was looking for.

Impatient, Anya burst out: "Will Sy-on come back tomorrow?"

"Huh?" Damian jolted out of his thoughts.

"That's my question," said the frog resolutely. Anya stared into him with a weight that he couldn't imagine being held in her tiny body. "Will Sy-on come back tomorrow?"

Damian opened his mouth to say something along the lines of: Of course not. I'm a prince. I have duties to attend to. My schedule is actually very busy, I'll have you know. But he shut his mouth.

What was he supposed to be doing tomorrow? He would have his tutoring sessions with Mr Henderson, but he hadn't done his homework, so he would definitely get reprimanded. He would be forced to eat alone. His parents wouldn't speak to him, as usual, until dinnertime when they would be cold and distant. Then they would just find something else to criticise him about, make him feel worse than he already did. Damian might try, once again, to ask Demetrius to mentor him in something. Maybe sword fighting, or chess this time, but Demetrius had locked himself in his room for the last few years and seemed even less interested in him than his own parents.

"Yes," Damian found himself saying. "I'll come back tomorrow."

Anya beamed up at him, and it occurred to Damian that seeing a frog smile like this could actually be worth skipping an entire day of his schedule. "Promise?"

Damian's mouth went dry. "Promise."

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I am so sorry, I don't know how this happened but I've been possessed by this story idea where Anya is a frog and I HAD to write it, I planned everything and wrote this chapter in a day

I don't have a schedule for this, but I have 7 chapters all planned out, help me asksjakdij

Comments are welcome! Let me know your thoughts please, I've been buried in this for 6 hours straight and I don't think I'm sane anymore :')