Post by greenie on Jan 16, 2010 14:13:42 GMT 10
Title: Found Out
Rating: G
Summary: Little is not happy when Ribby the frog gets discovered.
Notes: Credit for Ribby's name goes to Joa. It's the cutest name ever for a frog!
“Hello Ribby, did you miss me?” Little picked up the frog carefully. “Time for another kiss,” she announced, and kissed him carefully on the mouth. She watched him, waiting expectantly, but nothing happened and she frowned. “I’ve already given you lots of kisses, you shouldn’t be shy about turning into a prince now. When you finally do change into a prince, I’ll get Mama to talk to you. Uncle Matty says that Beka used to be very shy, but that Mama always grumped at her about it and now she isn’t so shy. Hold still, Ribby. It isn’t bathtime yet!” Little heard her mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs and stuffed Ribby back into the box under her bed.
“Who were you talking to?” asked Clary.
“Just me,” said Little.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“What have you got under the bed?”
“Nothing, Mama.”
“Has Mattes been giving you sweets again?”
This one she could answer honestly. “No, he says you grumped at him too much last time.”
“I should think so,” muttered Clary. “Stand aside.”
Little’s eyes widened. “No.”
Clary glared at her. “Move!” she snapped. Little stayed where she was, so Clary hauled her out of the way and bent down to look under the bed.
“No!” shouted Little. “Don’t touch Ribby, he’s mine! You have Da, you don’t even need a prince!”
Clary pulled the lid off the box, and a frog jumped right out. Clary stared at it in surprise for several long moments. “You’ve been keeping a frog in my house?” she demanded.
The frog hopped towards the door, and Little ran after him. “Ribby, come back!” Ribby hopped even more quickly, not liking being chased.
“And now I’ve got a frog loose in my house,” snapped Clary. “Get back in your bedroom and stay there.” It took Clary several attempts to get the frog out of the house, and when she finally went back upstairs Little was in tears.
“Where’s Ribby?” Little demanded. “I want him back.”
Clary put her hands on her hips. “You’re not keeping a frog in my house. He hopped off into the garden.”
“RIBBY,” wailed Little, and she lunged for the door.
Clary caught her. “You’re staying inside and the frog stays outside.”
“But I want him back, he’s MINE,” she sobbed, and she hit at Clary with her small hands.
Clary held her at arms’ length. “You hit me and I’ll hit you back,” she snapped. “And then you’ll know all about it.”
Little gulped and fell still, but her wails turned to howls.
“Stop it!” ordered Clary. “It’s just a frog, it’ll be happier outside anyway.”
“He’s not just a frog, he’s my prince!”
Clary blinked. “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard.”
“IT’S NOT SILLY AND YOU MADE MY PRINCE RUN AWAY AND I HATE YOU!”
“SHUT YOUR SARDEN GOB!”
Little stared at her in shocked silence before crying even more. Clary rolled her eyes and put Little on her bed, and then walked out of the room and shut the door.
It had been over an hour, and Clary could still hear crying upstairs. So much for hoping she’d cry herself to sleep. If anything, it was getting more and more hysterical. She sighed and went up to her daughter’s bedroom again.
“Really Loretta, that’s more than enough.”
“My name’s not Loretta and I want Ribby back!”
“Listen, that story that Uncle Jewel told you isn’t real. It’s just a story. Frogs aren’t really princes.”
“Stop lying! Ribby is a prince, Uncle Matty said so!”
Mattes. Clary should have known he was behind all this. “Mattes lied.”
“No he didn’t! He’s right, and I bet you just stole Ribby so you could give him kisses yourself! Uncle Matty said you would.”
“I don’t want a sarden frog,” snapped Clary. “It’s a frog, not a prince, so stop all this noise.”
Little took the biggest breath she could and screamed.
Clary clapped a hand over her mouth. “Stop it, you little looby. I’d hate to know what the neighbours are thinking.” Little kept on screaming when she took her hand away, so Clary wrapped her in a blanket, knowing that she’d never manage to get a coat and hat on her, picked her up, and walked out of the house.
Mattes heard the wails getting gradually louder long before the pounding on his door started. He opened it to find a furious Clary holding Little wrapped in a blanket and howling.
“This is all your fault,” snapped Clary. “I’ve had tantrums and tears for the last two hours. You can tell her that you lied and that the sarden frog wasn’t a prince.” She shoved the wailing bundle into his arms. “Bring her to the kennel when watch starts, I’ll have Tom come down to fetch her.” She strode out, letting the door slam behind her.
Mattes looked at the crying Little. “Looks like your mama’s a bit grumpy,” he remarked.
“Mama made Ribby run away!” she sobbed.
“I bet Ribby’s found a beautiful pond by now,” Mattes said. “He’ll be very happy.”
“Little’s not happy!”
“That’s alright, we’ll do something fun to take your mind off it. How about we play Dogs? You can practice your growling! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Don’t want to.”
“I know, I’ll let you play with my baton as a special treat.” He set her down in his favourite chair. “You wait right there.” He left the room and came back with his baton. Pulling aside the blanket, he put it in her hands. “There you go, you can be a proper Dog now, just like Mama.”
“Don’t want to! I hate Mama.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Mama’s not a very nice Mama.”
“I have a good idea!” exclaimed Mattes, making his voice overly cheery. “Let’s play sisters again! I know you liked that game. We’ll dress up in Aunty Sabine’s things again. We’ll have to start right now though, so we can get cleaned up before she arrives. She’s coming over before watch.”
“I don’t want to!” Little shouted. “I want my Prince Ribby back.”
Mattes sighed and picked her up, and then sat down with her on his knee. “Look, Little. Your mama was right, Ribby isn’t a prince.”
“Yes, he is! You said so, Uncle Matty.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, Little. I lied, I was teasing you. It was a joke, I didn’t think you’d ever get this upset.”
Little wriggled off his lap and turned to look at him, her small face mirroring the furious look that had been on her mother’s. “You mean that Ribby isn’t a prince and you said he was when he wasn’t?”
“Yes, Little. I’m sorry.”
“I HATE you!” she shouted, and hit him.
Osgyth walked into the healer’s room, taking in Mattes on the bed, the healer, and Sabine with a crying Little on her lap. “Jewel said you were in here. How’d you get injured before watch even started?”
“Attacked on the way here,” said Mattes. “There were these four huge men, and they’d all been drinking hotblood wine.”
“He’s lying again,” sobbed Little. “Tell him off!”
“He is lying,” agreed Sabine. “He’s being very naughty and bad.” She looked at Osgyth and grinned. “He was hit by a very angry four year old, who happened to be holding his baton at the time.”
Osgyth ruffled Little’s hair. “Don’t you worry, your Uncle Matty will be fine.”
“I don’t care,” Little said. “Ribby ran away, and Uncle Matty lied about him being a prince.”
Mattes sighed. “You dislocated my kneecap, aren’t we even now?”
“No,” said Little, and she buried her face into Sabine again.
Little wondered if Uncle Matty would give her sweets and toys and a kitten every time she hit him.
Rating: G
Summary: Little is not happy when Ribby the frog gets discovered.
Notes: Credit for Ribby's name goes to Joa. It's the cutest name ever for a frog!
“Hello Ribby, did you miss me?” Little picked up the frog carefully. “Time for another kiss,” she announced, and kissed him carefully on the mouth. She watched him, waiting expectantly, but nothing happened and she frowned. “I’ve already given you lots of kisses, you shouldn’t be shy about turning into a prince now. When you finally do change into a prince, I’ll get Mama to talk to you. Uncle Matty says that Beka used to be very shy, but that Mama always grumped at her about it and now she isn’t so shy. Hold still, Ribby. It isn’t bathtime yet!” Little heard her mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs and stuffed Ribby back into the box under her bed.
“Who were you talking to?” asked Clary.
“Just me,” said Little.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“What have you got under the bed?”
“Nothing, Mama.”
“Has Mattes been giving you sweets again?”
This one she could answer honestly. “No, he says you grumped at him too much last time.”
“I should think so,” muttered Clary. “Stand aside.”
Little’s eyes widened. “No.”
Clary glared at her. “Move!” she snapped. Little stayed where she was, so Clary hauled her out of the way and bent down to look under the bed.
“No!” shouted Little. “Don’t touch Ribby, he’s mine! You have Da, you don’t even need a prince!”
Clary pulled the lid off the box, and a frog jumped right out. Clary stared at it in surprise for several long moments. “You’ve been keeping a frog in my house?” she demanded.
The frog hopped towards the door, and Little ran after him. “Ribby, come back!” Ribby hopped even more quickly, not liking being chased.
“And now I’ve got a frog loose in my house,” snapped Clary. “Get back in your bedroom and stay there.” It took Clary several attempts to get the frog out of the house, and when she finally went back upstairs Little was in tears.
“Where’s Ribby?” Little demanded. “I want him back.”
Clary put her hands on her hips. “You’re not keeping a frog in my house. He hopped off into the garden.”
“RIBBY,” wailed Little, and she lunged for the door.
Clary caught her. “You’re staying inside and the frog stays outside.”
“But I want him back, he’s MINE,” she sobbed, and she hit at Clary with her small hands.
Clary held her at arms’ length. “You hit me and I’ll hit you back,” she snapped. “And then you’ll know all about it.”
Little gulped and fell still, but her wails turned to howls.
“Stop it!” ordered Clary. “It’s just a frog, it’ll be happier outside anyway.”
“He’s not just a frog, he’s my prince!”
Clary blinked. “That’s the silliest thing I ever heard.”
“IT’S NOT SILLY AND YOU MADE MY PRINCE RUN AWAY AND I HATE YOU!”
“SHUT YOUR SARDEN GOB!”
Little stared at her in shocked silence before crying even more. Clary rolled her eyes and put Little on her bed, and then walked out of the room and shut the door.
It had been over an hour, and Clary could still hear crying upstairs. So much for hoping she’d cry herself to sleep. If anything, it was getting more and more hysterical. She sighed and went up to her daughter’s bedroom again.
“Really Loretta, that’s more than enough.”
“My name’s not Loretta and I want Ribby back!”
“Listen, that story that Uncle Jewel told you isn’t real. It’s just a story. Frogs aren’t really princes.”
“Stop lying! Ribby is a prince, Uncle Matty said so!”
Mattes. Clary should have known he was behind all this. “Mattes lied.”
“No he didn’t! He’s right, and I bet you just stole Ribby so you could give him kisses yourself! Uncle Matty said you would.”
“I don’t want a sarden frog,” snapped Clary. “It’s a frog, not a prince, so stop all this noise.”
Little took the biggest breath she could and screamed.
Clary clapped a hand over her mouth. “Stop it, you little looby. I’d hate to know what the neighbours are thinking.” Little kept on screaming when she took her hand away, so Clary wrapped her in a blanket, knowing that she’d never manage to get a coat and hat on her, picked her up, and walked out of the house.
Mattes heard the wails getting gradually louder long before the pounding on his door started. He opened it to find a furious Clary holding Little wrapped in a blanket and howling.
“This is all your fault,” snapped Clary. “I’ve had tantrums and tears for the last two hours. You can tell her that you lied and that the sarden frog wasn’t a prince.” She shoved the wailing bundle into his arms. “Bring her to the kennel when watch starts, I’ll have Tom come down to fetch her.” She strode out, letting the door slam behind her.
Mattes looked at the crying Little. “Looks like your mama’s a bit grumpy,” he remarked.
“Mama made Ribby run away!” she sobbed.
“I bet Ribby’s found a beautiful pond by now,” Mattes said. “He’ll be very happy.”
“Little’s not happy!”
“That’s alright, we’ll do something fun to take your mind off it. How about we play Dogs? You can practice your growling! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
“Don’t want to.”
“I know, I’ll let you play with my baton as a special treat.” He set her down in his favourite chair. “You wait right there.” He left the room and came back with his baton. Pulling aside the blanket, he put it in her hands. “There you go, you can be a proper Dog now, just like Mama.”
“Don’t want to! I hate Mama.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“Mama’s not a very nice Mama.”
“I have a good idea!” exclaimed Mattes, making his voice overly cheery. “Let’s play sisters again! I know you liked that game. We’ll dress up in Aunty Sabine’s things again. We’ll have to start right now though, so we can get cleaned up before she arrives. She’s coming over before watch.”
“I don’t want to!” Little shouted. “I want my Prince Ribby back.”
Mattes sighed and picked her up, and then sat down with her on his knee. “Look, Little. Your mama was right, Ribby isn’t a prince.”
“Yes, he is! You said so, Uncle Matty.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, Little. I lied, I was teasing you. It was a joke, I didn’t think you’d ever get this upset.”
Little wriggled off his lap and turned to look at him, her small face mirroring the furious look that had been on her mother’s. “You mean that Ribby isn’t a prince and you said he was when he wasn’t?”
“Yes, Little. I’m sorry.”
“I HATE you!” she shouted, and hit him.
Osgyth walked into the healer’s room, taking in Mattes on the bed, the healer, and Sabine with a crying Little on her lap. “Jewel said you were in here. How’d you get injured before watch even started?”
“Attacked on the way here,” said Mattes. “There were these four huge men, and they’d all been drinking hotblood wine.”
“He’s lying again,” sobbed Little. “Tell him off!”
“He is lying,” agreed Sabine. “He’s being very naughty and bad.” She looked at Osgyth and grinned. “He was hit by a very angry four year old, who happened to be holding his baton at the time.”
Osgyth ruffled Little’s hair. “Don’t you worry, your Uncle Matty will be fine.”
“I don’t care,” Little said. “Ribby ran away, and Uncle Matty lied about him being a prince.”
Mattes sighed. “You dislocated my kneecap, aren’t we even now?”
“No,” said Little, and she buried her face into Sabine again.
Little wondered if Uncle Matty would give her sweets and toys and a kitten every time she hit him.