Giving Fantasia: The Taking Fantasia Sequel

Chapter 62: Ariel Triton Style

Chapter 62: Ariel Triton Style

Somehow Arthur escaped. Somehow he escaped every nitpicking, fault-finding, hypercritical adviser and found sanctuary in the Eastern Tower. Breaking into a run (and tripping on Excalibur), Arthur ran through a long, greystone foyer. Stainglass windows blurred into rainbows as he sprinted to a pair of wooden doors, and wrenched open the right.

Once inside his bed chamber, Arthur did something he'd never done before.

He slammed the door. Hard.

He threw his crown. Harder.

And then he threw Excalibur. He threw it hard as the stone from which the sword was drawn.

Excalibur collided against the wall and rang. The sound sliced angrily through the air, sharp as the magical blade itself.

As Excalibur clattered, Arthur clenched his bangs. Sinking down the door, he pressed palms to his eyes and knees to his heart.

For the infinite time, Arthur wished. "Merlin. Please. Come back."

Trembling, Arthur clasped his hands, almost in prayer. 

"Merlin. I can't...I can't marry...."

Ashamed, Arthur covered his head. His devastation was detected by Tiger and Talbot, two Great Dane mutts that sniffed the air, smelled their favorite person in the entire world, and promptly attacked him with doggy kisses.

"Hey there." Fiercely, Arthur hugged Talbot's neck. "Hey Talbot. Hey boy."

Talbot wagged his tail to heaven. Jealous, Tiger squirmed under Talbot, whimpering for Arthur's attention. Reaching behind Tiger's ear, Arthur scratched. The dogs bayed joyfully, pinning Arthur to the door as he shed every ounce of misery.

Sadly, Arthur stroked his dogs. "Thanks boys. I'm...okay. I ...I have to get back. Let me up."

Nope. Tails wagging, Talbot and Tiger insisted Arthur stay right where he was – on the floor within immediate petting range. In return they slobbered him with puppy love.

Although it was negligent, Arthur gave in. Dogs in his arms, he sagged against the door, barricading himself from the kingdom.

Sunlight poured through the glazed ceiling. Arthur's bed chamber was an atrium of sorts – clear and open to the sky. Wooden rafters crisscrossed beneath skylight panels and large windows opening to the east.

For some reason Arthur preferred the eastern vista (versus Merlin's westward view next door). To the east, the Fantasian landscape disappeared into the Otherland, and inexplicably Arthur found that....comforting. Why was uncertain. However, gazing into the east, with his back to Fantasia, Arthur found solace. It uncluttered his mind, and cleared his frustrations. And strangely...it gave him hope. Like something, or someone, was waiting for him on the other side.

Arthur closed his eyes. He would give anything to leave Fantasia. Could he, Arthur would put the sword back in the stone, and rewrite his story. Rather, he would rewrite all of their stories. His, Merlin's, the guardians', Elsa's...

He would write a happily ever after. For all of them.

Lost in a hopeless fantasy, Arthur dreamed.

Writing a happily ever after. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Wonderful, but impossible. And irresponsible. 

Glumly, Arthur stroked Tiger's shiny coat. He could almost hear Merlin's grumpy reproof "Now don't you get any foolish ideas that magic will solve all your problems! Because it won't!"