milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

It's been almost four months, in Ambergeldar, since Amy came into the bar. Four rather tiring months, really, spent criss-crossing the country so she could be introduced to a populace. But that all ended last week, in early October, almost two months early, and she's back, looking about for her friends.

The slight curve to her stomach could be the result of the fashion of her dress, or even a trick of the light. But given the way she's smiling . . . it's probably not.

Amy is back. And she has News.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not remarkable if Svava hadn't told me the news just yesterday - Dieu, it's like a baby boom here, *Meg says, eyes still wide; then, a little belatedly:* Felicitations!

A baby boom is, though, so much better than baby DOOM.

"Thank you," she says. "Things do seem to happen in clumps here, don't they? And how have you been?"

Well, it hasn't been that long for me, *Meg protests, laughing.*

Only about a week or so - just enough time for a trip and a little vampire-killing, is all.

". . . vampire-killing?"

*With good-natured complaint:* Every time Andrew and I go out together, something happens. I start to fade away or we get kidnapped or we end up having to hunt down the hearts of immortal vampires . . . I mean, we're cursed or something.

"Clearly, you should stay home," says Amy, cheerfully. "Or go out separately. Nothing happened when you came to Phatasmorania. And you shall have to come visit me in Amber, you know."

Well, that's not a very good date, is it? *Meg points out, giggling.*

And yes, bien sur! I still don't count myself as actually having met Perry, you know; I mean, the wedding didn't exactly count.

"A royal wedding is a terrible place to try to meet anyone," says Amy. "Especially one of the people getting married. And you need to know each other. I like my favorite people to all know one another."

*A firm nod.*

Exactly. The bride and groom aren't even supposed to see each other, let alone anyone else - and most of the time, they're too busy panicking to even notice if they do.

"Panicking?"

Amy quicks an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, panicking?"

*Meg blinks back.*

You've never seen anyone get pre-wedding jitters?

Amy shakes her head.

"Well, I mean, I had rather a lot of twitchy nervous energy, but I wasn't panicking. And my sisters were all completely calm."

Well, yes, but you're Cheerful and Sensible, *Meg points out, with a grin.*

I've been to a lot of weddings, and I've seen people panic so bad they almost ran out the door to hide -

*Not to mention that one wedding where someone did get sucked out the door, but we'll not go into that.*

"Well, I suspect if I'd been marrying anyone but Perry I'd have felt that way. But I can't quite imagine marrying anyone but Perry now."

Marriage agrees with Amy rather a lot.

Gee, really? *Meg teases.* Because between the baby and the glowing and all, I really wasn't sure whether it was working out.

"Well, yes," says Amy, ever-so-seriously. "I can see where those might be misleading. But if I try to smile any more widely, I look a little, well, mad. And that worries the Councilors."

Oh, monarchs have a long history of going totally fou, *Meg says, waving her hand dismissively.*

It's practically expected. I mean, they named a whole complex after Bonaparte, I've heard.

"Well, yes, but it's still frowned upon in individual cases, when it happens.

"After whom?" asks Amy.

Napoleon - Emperor of France for a bit after the Revolution.

*Meg puts her hand high in the air, and then drops it to about her own height.*

Short little guy who conquered just about three-quarters of Europe. He had to stop at Russia because of all the snow -

"Oh," says Amy. As a general rule, she doesn't approve of revolutions. Kings and queens don't do well in them.

"I suppose that's why one has snow. To keep short maurauding Frenchmen out."

*Meg is very fond of certain kings and queens; however, in her heart, she will always cheer for the republic.*

Apparently it worked for them later, too, when the Nazis invaded, *she says, with an informative air.

Meg has studied her history!*

Amy is about to ask The who? then realizes she won't understand the answer anyway.

"I suppose if all else fails, you can throw it at the invaders."

Because that's the sort of place the world would be, if Amy were in charge. Things would be settled with snowball fights.

It makes great forts, too, *Meg agrees cheerfully.* And when it freezes people slip on it.

"It does. And you can't lose, if you can get the squirrels on your side."

She leans forward to confide.

"They have very cold feet, when they land on the back of your neck."

*Meg wrinkles her nose, reaching a hand up to the back of her neck.*

. . . oui, I'll believe that.