Ring of Mushrooms

23

You fell asleep again not too long after that party. You had gently cradled the sweet little Malleus, talking a quiet but exaggerated voice as you described the ferocious dragon that swept down from the heavens slaying the cruel king and freeing the princess. He giggled and clapped.

He looked up at you with bright eyes, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, pretty much anything."

"Will you marry Ma?" He pulled his stuffed toy closer to him. "Ma likes you, and you like her..."

You smiled pushing his bangs out of his face. "I do like your ma, I like her very much. I can't say if I'll marry her, she'd probably have to be the one to ask me, being a queen and all," you giggled, "I'd like you to think of me as something like a parent, and I'd like to think of you as my son too. I won't force such a thing to happen. Now go to bed, little dragon."

You collapsed half asleep in the hallway. It was a wave of dizziness, you were left blinking up, dazed and confused at the candles lit by little fire sprites. They seemed panicked and worried as you lay there. You struggled to keep your eyes open.

Maleficent and Lilia appeared quickly, or maybe they were slow. You just felt them and knew instantly who they were. You leaned into the beautiful mixture of raspberry and mulberry.

"Pretty lady!" you slurred your words, sounding drunk half to death. "Little Malleus asked if you'd marry me. Your son is so cute," you dragged out your words, reaching upward toward their cheeks. "Maybe you should both kiss me good night, do that please?"

And they did, two kisses, one from each of them. It was followed by a few more but you didn't keep track. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into their hold. You wanted to reach out and hold them back but you drifted off into the deep before you could.

So you sunk, down and down, into the deep water all over again. There was a feeling of wondering, floating in this endless space. Left alone for who knows how long.

When you woke up again, a long time later,  it was darker than before. The ceiling was changed too. You were glad. If you had to be faced with that awful cursed ceiling you might have lost it. Instead of that nightmare of a memory, you were greeted by something far sweeter.

A little dragon, sitting swaddled in his baby blanket. He cradled his stuffed toy in his arms, his chin resting on its head. He flipped through a picture book tracing the curves of the lines.

"Hello, Little Dragon, have you been behaving for your mom?"

The tips of his ears wiggled a bit, and he turned to look at you. "You're awake!" He collapsed onto your chest laughing, "Ma and Mr. Lilia, have been waiting for you to wake up!"

"Oh, and here I was hoping to read you a bedtime story again." You laughed sitting up and letting him sit in your lap. You flipped back to the cover of the book and smiled. "The sea witch?"

"You were asleep for a while, I thought I'd keep you company."

"I'm glad you did, now would you like me to read to you?"

In a way, you slowly formed a routine to the curse. Sleep for an unknown amount of time. Find something to drink and snack on, while you change into new clothes. If a little dragon was there when you woke up, you'd talk and play a little. Find out how long you've been asleep. Then you would find Lilia or Maleficent. It just depended on where you woke up.

After a few loops of the curse tossing you deep into sleep, you went back home. Lilia's cottage. It was still surrounded by his garden, the hedges had been uprooted and replaced with wildflower bushes. A mulberry tree had sprouted along the path. Lilia had renovated some of it, but it was undoubtedly your home.

Your room was diligently cleaned. For being such a messy person at heart Lilia was a cleaning expert. The sheets were replaced and there was a vase of wildflowers on the bedside table. All of your manuscripts and books had been arranged on a bookshelf and there was a guide to how they were arranged beside the vase.

It was nice to be home, wandering around the halls and rooms you missed more than you knew. You traveled the wood just around the cottage, you let yourself come home with your feet coated in dirt and mud. You'd sit perched on the bench at the front door, rinsing off your feet under the warm lilac sky.

Your heart was dripping with want. A delicate rhythm that pumped away as you wondered what to do. The loneliness was heavy, there was no little laughter to fill in the silence. The sweet boy was still sleeping away, tucked into a crib. You were a phantom in your own home, looming over his bed, as he slept. You knew this was how Lilia felt. This was a fraction of what he had gone through.

You looked through the vail of your lashes. You tended to the few potted plants that decorated Silver's room. The scratching of pen against paper was soaked in a melancholy thought. Ink stained the pages, and the tips of your fingers as you edited and revised, violently carving out the mistakes. It was like tending to the plants, the same level of attention went into each line. Some could be starved of value, but others needed to be filled with thorns and toxins.

The room was patient, the house too. Its old bones groaned with the history of the cottage, of the woods, and its inhabitants. When the winter came and its windows were lined with frost, it playfully nipped your fingers as you drew pictures into its skin. You'd lounge on its lap when it was warm, wrapped up in a blanket with a warm drink when the wind nipped.

You'd often hold Silver too, wandering through your halls like a ghost. The woods danced and played with the ends of your coat as you walked under their branches. You became accustomed to it, going on walks after sleeping. There was a small easy-to-miss creek, in the spring the wildflowers bloomed in a rainbow of colors. You slept under the trees sometimes. Lilia would follow you on some of your escapes, dancing with you as autumn leaves fell around you as you started to fight to stay awake, waiting for Silver to wake up, and waiting to have that wedding you were promised.

A thousand times you watched the flowers bloom, and a thousand more you'd sleep in a bed as thorny vines and mushrooms grew in circles around you. Sometimes you'd see others, tall women walking through the woods, collecting all the pinecones their children stuffed into their pockets. More than once they'd pat their little one's head and guide them away with a soft smile. Yet you tried to learn to fold paper boats to set down into the creek, and you waited by Lilia's side for your son to arise from his slumber.