Chapter Text
The leaves croak as you step on them. A frog crunches as you walk by it. The sound is weird coming from a frog, but you expect no less from the mad king's twisted mind. You wonder if this slimy amphibian is the unfortunate Lorei. The last you saw him, he was perched upon a tree branch, staring into your soul, as you dined with the mad king. Deiran had put it as his 'little existential froggy crisis', the first time Lorei's worryingly human-like eyes bored into you with a terrified look. But this couldn't be Lorei. Where was his human face?
That made you wonder where Lorei really was. Maybe Deiran had gotten bored of Lorei's breakdowns and had disintegrated him. But, you told Deiran not to. You told him that you wanted to let Lorei have life pass him by. Deiran wouldn't defy his king's wishes. After all, he loves you. Deeply.
You stroll further into the forest. you truly aren't following Deiran's rules. Hopefully this is what he wants. You stop. But what if it isn't? You would hate to disappoint your king. Maybe you should head back. If Deiran wanted you to wander, you did. For quite a while too. But not too long that you could perhaps lie if he didn't want you to. God, why were you thinking? Why were you pondering your next move, as if it was the most important in your life? Deiran taught you otherwise. Just do what you want. He'd always be on your side. At least, that's what he told you.
You've been standing in one spot in the forest for a considerable amount of time. Thinking. God, you hate that. As much as you want to, you can't seem to fully let go of your sanity. Deiran can tell. but the question is, is he trying to help, or is he waiting for the perfect moment when he's gained all of your trust, and then turn you into a garden gnome? You realised the more you worried, the more you clawed your sanity back. You had to let go, embrace the madness.
You decide to keep walking through the thicket. You listen to the sounds of the strangeness that resides in Deiran's kingdom. Whimpers. Squelches. Screams. It was beautiful, yet terrifying. Much like Deiran. He is a madman. At least he is your madman. Between the strange noises, you hear a rustling in the trees behind you. You turn to face a huge tree, its' branches reaching up far into the sky, bearing eyes instead of fruit. But that was the most interesting part about it. you turn away from it and continue down the path.
You're walking past a patch of glowing mushrooms when you hear it again. The clear sound of someone walking. You still can't work out the source of the noise though. You start to panic. Who knows what's hiding where you can't see it?
You wonder if you should keep walking. You definitely can't go back, otherwise you'd have to face whatever had been following you. It's only acceptable when Deiran stalks you. That's it! It must be Deiran. it has to be Deiran. What else would be following you in a forest? You didn't want to think about that. But that also means he knows you strayed too far from his castle. Oh well, if he disliked it, he'd probably make it known. Maybe that's what all this is. A punishment. Deiran certainly has the humour for it. You turn back towards the way you came, and start walking.
You walk no more than five steps when the 'creature' stalking you finally reveals itself. It drags itself out from behind the tree. It was obvious what it was now. The long, lanky limbs, disproportionate torso, disfigured face. It's almost human. It's a changeling. You always knew Deiran is good at acting, but this, this is tremendous.
The 'changeling' claws it's way toward you, it's sharp nails making a horrible scraping sound against the bark. Despite, it's tall height, it remains on the forest floor, looking up at you hungrily. Exactly the look Deiran used to stare at you the first time he teleported you to his wacky dimension. Although, maybe this time, it isn't hunger for your love. More for you.
The 'changeling' stares up at you, seemingly waiting for you to scream. You don't. It opens it's mouth, gurgling and rasping at you. "Your eyes are beautiful." You can't help but giggle. Clearly, that surprised it. You decide to play along.
You whimper. Not the most convincing, though. "M-my eyes?" Hearing the fear, albeit mock fear, in your voice seems to makes you realise the situation you're in. If this isn't Deiran.. no. You shouldn't think like that. You're safe here. Deiran wouldn't lie to you.
"Such pretty eyes, for a human. You don't deserve them. They should be mine.." It gulps at you, the sound conjured up from deep within.
"Give me your eyes."
Your breath hitches. This has to be Deiran, right? The changeling reaches up, it's clawed hands grasping your face, very unlike the way Deiran does. It punctures your skin, letting drops of blood drip their way down your face. Deiran loves to play with you, toy with you. He'd even go as far as to make you bleed, not to hurt you though. And this, this was obviously to hurt you. "D-Deiran.." You whimper. This time, it's real. The changeling glances curiously at you.
It pulls down your under-eye. Luckily, your eyes are safe, for now. It just seems to want to inspect them. Yet, you can't move. You can't speak. You hope this is Deiran. At the same time you wish it isn't. It looks almost disappointed as it inspects your other eye. It then sighs.
"Such pretty eyes, gone to waste." You can't make out exactly what it said next, but it was something about your eyes not being healthy enough. It looks you up and down. It finally seems to notice your outfit.
It's slightly ridiculous, much like all of Deiran's outfits. He seems to like making you match him. You're sporting a cream tunic, intricate patterns weaving it's way through it. A dark leather belt and matching cape also adorn your figure. It's almost as ridiculous as the jester outfit. But, as ridiculous as it is, it is your favourite.
After observing you for a considerably long time, the changeling finally 'speaks' again. "You'd make a very interesting jester," it rasps at you.
You manage to mumble, "A-a jester..? Oh, no I don't think I'd be good at that.." The changeling clicks it's tongue disapprovingly. At least, that's what you hope the sound is. Again, you can't make out what the changeling says, but you catch a few words as it mumbles at you throatily. Something about 'Lord', 'court', and 'entertainment'. You get the jist. And you don't like it.
Before you can react, thick, black chains wrap around your wrists and your neck, binding you to the changeling, who, as it seems it, is holding the other end. It reminds you of Deiran. Maybe this was Deiran. Please be Deiran.
It growls as you struggle against your binds, immediately shutting you up. Now you hope this was not Deiran. At least you weren't wearing the jester outfit, then maybe this thing would have even more of an incentive to turn you into a court jester. It appears you've got yourself into a sticky situation.