#rivervale_lodge

"Oh. Without the magic word, I doubt it - or I! - shall listen."

"But... you must." He looks puzzled. "I am a LORD."

"...mustn't you?"

"You aren't my lord. You're littler than me."

He sputters, and steps back, clearly straightening as though hopes and wishes would grant him inches of dignity.

"No! I mean, yes! You HAVE to!"

Chin quivers.

"Why?"

He opens his mouth to retort, then stops.

"...because... uh. Because?"

His chin quivers in earnest now, and he makes a valiant effort to straighten himself up and look Very Fine and Noble despite the fact that his eyes are beginning to shine.

"I don't know," he admits, the words coming out in a small, miserable voice. "I thought it would listen because I am a lord."

"But... now I'm lost, and I'm hungry, and I want to go home."

She drops down to sit criss-cross applesauce. "Oh, wee fledge!" She opens her arms, inviting a hug.

He hesitates for a moment, clearly caught between his dignity and the rather undeniable comfort of having something solid to hold onto.

Alas, dignity loses, and he folds into the hug, clinging gratefully to Amity after who knows how long aboard a palace that is more cloud than substance. After a few moments of very undignified snuffling, he mumbles, "My friends call me Perry. Or, well, I wish they would. I'm not sure I have any."

He rubs at his face with one sleeve. "There are childlings at court who have been told to attend on me, but... they leave when they're not commanded to stay."

"Have you tried asking nicely?"

He tilts his head as though she is speaking Quebecois and he only knows high English.

Amity gives very good hugs, even if little sidhe lordlings are not so far removed from annoying little brothers.

"You might not have any friends at all, little platypus. But it doesn't need to stay that way."

Peregrine draws himself up with what remains of his dignity. "You shall be my friend," he declares, then falters as the words leave his mouth. His shoulders hunch a little, and he looks suddenly the little boy and not the young lord.

"I mean..." His voice drops to a hopeful little quaver. "Would you be my friend, please?"

For a moment, nothing happens. Then the cloud beneath their feet gives a soft, rolling shudder, and the palace seems to hesitate in its drifting.

Perry looks down. "Did you feel that?"

She claps. "You said the magic word!"

"Perry." She adds.

Perry looks baffled. "But I didn't say abracadabra or open sesame or sim sim salabim or hocus pocus or alakazam."

He blushes a little, and gives her a shy smile, not having realized how NICE it sounds to be called his name, a friendly name, not his titles and whatnot.

"Castle, go home!" He commands, excited!

A whistle-warble and she shakes her head. "Magic words!"

Perry's eyes widen. "Oh!" He looks down at the palace with sudden concentration, as though the answer has finally clicked into place. Then, with considerably less lordly command in his voice, he says, "Castle, if you please, would you take me home?"

Perry holds his breath, and then the palace suddenly surges forward, scudding across the sky like a fluffy cumulus cloud caught by a playful breeze. The towers bob and billow as they go, and the whole palace sails merrily onward, carrying the two of them toward, presumably, home.

After a few moments, Perry points down at a building as they pass. "Oh, I know that one! We're going the right way!"

A chirrup. "I knew you were a magician!"

Perry's eyes light up.

"When we get there, of course you must join my court. I can even grant you a position of some prominence. You may even be knighted in due course, if you prove yourself suitably worthy."

"Ohhhh, but I am a diurnal birdie, I could not be a knight!"

"Oh, I forgot to ask. What is your name? You can choose to be Sir or Dame, we're not too formal on that matter..." He trails off, and blinks at her.

"Very well, then you shall be Keeper of the Bookbags, or perhaps Chancellor of the Toy Chest. I shall have to decide which is the more prestigious position."

A soft warble and she shakes her head.

"But I already have a job!"

Perry looks affronted, and perhaps a little hurt. "But you said you would be MY friend," he says, putting particular emphasis on "my" as though that settles the matter.

"Some pigeons are called Amicable. Cheri Ami! Bon Friend!"

He considers and asks, "If I was referring to a pigeon that, um, wasn't you at all, what might I call her?"

"But birds must fly, little eyas. You are featherbrained just like Amity is." She taps her sternum.

"Oh. Amity!" He repeats the name a couple times as though engraving it so he will not forget.

"But.. I do not want you to go."

"How far is home? Did you know that pigeons can fly five hundred miles a day?"

Perry considers that, looking thoughtful for a moment as he gazes out across the clouds. "Well, home is in Wyckoff, perhaps an hour away as the crow..." He pauses, glancing at her. "Er, pigeon, flies." He says, naming a small town outside of Bergen proper.

"I could order you to stay," he says with a hint of obstinance, but the defiance soon fades from his expression. "But that would not make you my friend, would it?"

The clouds under their feet ripple a little in response.

A warm coo. "Smart chick."

"Can... I come back to visit you?"

She breaks into a bright grin. "I know where ALL the cookies are."

Perry grins back, and then waits a long moment, looking at her expectantly, as though there is some obvious courtly formality she has forgotten. When it becomes clear that she is not going to bow or otherwise acknowledge his leave-taking, he reconsiders and he offers her his hand to shake.

"I had better get back now, before they notice me missing, or else I will be grounded. ON THE GROUND this time. Forever and ever and ever."

"Oh, horrible! The ground is so... flat."

"I MUCH prefer flying." He says, giving her wings a clearly envious glance.

"And birds gotta fly. You know my friend Perry? He can't stay cooped up forever, no bells and jesses for he."

Nod NOD!

"Well, maybe bells. Bells are fun. And jingly."

"Like spurs? They jingle jingle jangle."

"Tintinnabulations!" She whistles.

"Now that's a word with some nobility to it!" He admires.

"Can YOU find your way home from here?" He asks, concerned as they are now moving at a decent clip.