The sky above Malas was turning a deep russet orange as Prince Caspian returned to Cair Paravel. He stepped from his spectral steed as the Charger of the Fallen disappeared in a wisp. He headed towards the Manse portion of the estate, and walked inside to see Denise The Chef stirring a pot, dough flecked about her face and a chef's hat tilted across her head.
Caspian got right to the point. "Evening, Denise. I've been thinking about your buns all day. I really wanted to grab them before I headed off to The Dark Guardians Chamber in Doom."
Denise arched an eyebrow. "You know I don't take my buns out before mornsong, milord. You know they need time to warm up."
Caspian removed his Stormgrip gauntlets and loosened his gorget slightly. "I know, but I want your buns even when they are cold. In fact I was hoping you'd have your melons out and ready for me by now, but I see that's not the case." The Paladin Archer sighed and gave the chef a rebuking look.
Putting the bowl down, Denise's face creased with annoyance. "Milord, the melons I have are hardly presentable. They are of an odd shape and they smell funny. I thought you'd want to have my pie instead tonight." Caspian shook his head slightly and put up a hand in half-hearted capitulation.
Caspian opened the cabinet in the nearby trophy room. He grimaced and held up his silver-blue undead slayer bow. Drawing back the string, the bowstring glowed with a soft shimmer. Caspian grunted.
"Denise, remember when you pulled out my Mischief Maker last night and started fooling around with it?"
"Aye," the chef said, going back to her pie batter, "I believe you wanted me learn how to use it, should I ever need to pull some shafts."
Caspian nodded and pulled the upper arc of the bow. "I did. But I think you were pulling on it too hard again, and you bent it out of shape. My dear, I think I told you before that I've put a great deal of Powder of Fortification on my Mischief Maker to make it last me so long, but I think you are going to break it in two one of these nights."
Denise's infuriated glare drove her attention away from her food preparation. She looked back to see it near ruin. "Fie! Milord, I am sorry, but I think I stirred my pie too stiffly, and now it's runny. Do you still want it now?"
Caspian closed the weapons cabinet. "No, I don't care for your pie when it's like that. But mayhaps I can lick the bowl?"
"Nay, milord. My bowl has been out too long and hath gone all crusty and dry."
Caspian shook his head and started up the stairs to his bedchamber. "Never mind. I think I'll go upstairs and crank on Dawn's music box until I get tired. Good evening, Denise."
OMG Caspian I thought Kylie Kinslayer had me in fits of laughter but OMG your short story has got me in tears. Please do continue your habit of making up these random tales
