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“Honestly, you lot have the most ridiculous problems.” Helena muttered as she dropped the sword and shield in the foyer, no longer needing them now that she was through the brambles.
“It’s not our fault!” Claudia was defensive from where she sat on the couch watching TV with Pete. “Besides, we called you as soon as we realized what was happening.”
“Yes, and spent the rest of the time having a movie marathon and eating snacks while I had to fight my way past a dragon and a malicious thicket. Why did Artie even have all this medieval gear in the boot of his car? No. Do not answer that.” She held up a peremptory hand to stop Pete who had opened his mouth to reply.
“Is there anything I should be aware of between here and Myka’s room?” She wanted to go racing up the stairs, despite knowing that if anything were truly wrong Pete and Claudia wouldn’t be sitting so calmly, but she had to ask, not wanting to risk being tripped up on the threshold.
She got reassuring shakes of the head from both of them and Pete flashed her a thumbs up of encouragement as she waved her thanks at them and started up the stairs. Honestly, who would have known that full plate armor would be so easy to move in? She barely felt the weight of it as she reached the landing and began ascending the final flight of stairs.
In the upstairs hallway she did take a brief moment to feed her vanity, removing the helmet and running fingers through her hair to remove the tangles and try to ease some of her dishevelment. She didn’t regret her moment of conceit once she walked into Myka’s room, but she was glad no one was around to hear her snort of derision as she spotted how Myka was laid out with the effects of the artifact shining around her, creating a glowing light more dramatic and showy than a West End marquee. Rolling her eyes she approached the bed and leaned down towards Myka, ignoring the surge of dramatic music as she gently pressed their lips together and stepped back from the bed, giving Myka room to recover slowly.
Myka’s eyes drifted open and she looked around her room in confusion, which only grew when she saw Helena standing nearby in full plate armor. “Helena, what…?” She trailed off, not entirely sure where to start.
“You encountered a rogue copy of a rather interesting version of Sleeping Beauty which turned your drink into a dwale. A soporific.” She clarified, seeing the frown deepen on Myka’s face.
“I know what a dwale is,” Myka said irritably as she pushed up into a sitting position. “But Sleeping Beauty pricks her finger on a spinning wheel; she doesn’t drink anything.”
“Yes, that would be the ‘rogue’ portion of this particular artifact. Apparently it’s one of the non-standard retellings. You can read it for yourself later.”
Myka gestured to Helena’s attire. “And the armor?”
“Was necessary to get past the dragon and the bramble thicket.” The less said about that latter obstacle the better, in Helena’s opinion.
“Dragon? What dragon? And where did you even get armor?”
“The dragon which I was forced to slay, and which,” she walked over to look out the window, “appears to have vanished now that the effects of the artifact have been undone.”
“Okay, so you slew the dragon and fought your way through the bramble thicket, which, I’m guessing was the real reason you needed armor.”
“Quite.” Helena confirmed succinctly.
“So then you came up here and…?” Myka trailed off with a questioning expression.
“Used true love’s kiss to awaken the fair maiden from her slumber.” Helena’s expression was just a touch sardonic, but the slight smile teasing around her lips ruined the effect.
Myka was halfway tempted to be offended by the description “fair maiden” but decided instead to exclaim “We lead the strangest lives!” before falling backwards on the bed.
“Yes, we do. Now help me get this armor off, please. I’m afraid Artie had to act as my squire so I could don it all, but I’d rather not go back to him for its removal.”
“No,” Myka agreed, sitting up, “not when you have a fair maiden to ravish, I suppose.”
“Promises, my love,” Helena said as she struggled to pull off one of the gauntlets.
Myka came over and helped her undo the catches and slide it off. “Well, there is one thing aspect of the story that is traditional, even in the “rogue” copies of fairy tales.”
Helena looked at her from under her lashes as she worked the catch free on the other gauntlet, a much easier task now that one hand was free. “I’m fairly sure that there are versions where it isn’t.”
“It is in ours,” Myka declared firmly. And really, who was Helena to argue with that.
So they lived happily ever after.
The End.