Frederick:

Thwump, thwump, thwump. My boots make that sound as I weave across the salon compartment’s carpet, through cities of blocks and wooden people. I stop at the window and look at the grandfather clock; it has barely moved. I stifled a yawn. Outside, the platform is almost a ghost town. Then I turn and pace back across the compartment, dodging toys and toddlers alike.

“Freddy Poo, please sit down,” said a voice more beautiful than a thousand angels, even when its owner was annoyed with me.

I turn; my beloved Aoibheann sits on one of the sofas with Hilda in her arms. The last time I glanced her way, she had been feeding our youngest at the breast. 

“We should have been moving by now,” I say. “Something must be wrong.”

She rolls her chestnut eyes in mock frustration. “Darling, Lizzy simply needed to relieve herself; she is over in the railyard getting fussed over by her kobold handlers as we speak and will return in a minute or two.”

She always knew what was going on in the valley. If Elizabeth the locomotive dragon returned a minute and a half later, it would not surprise me; it never surprised me anymore. How she became so friendly with Cinderthrax and his eight wives that she has nicknames for each of them is a mystery to me.

She gingerly places Hilda back on her embroidered cushion amidst indignant protests from the little fox pooka. With a dainty motion of her slender hand, she beckoned to the spot beside her. “Freddy Pooh, please come over and relax; we are supposed to be on holiday,” she pleaded, “a holiday that you desperately need.”

She and the children have been in a tizzy about this trip down to the court of Fionnuala the Fair for weeks now, our first holiday as a family. God knows the last year and odd months have left us little time for leisure. But my weary eyes fell upon the afternoon edition of the Silberberg Sentinel lying limp across the coffee table. The headlines and words of friend Powell Tupeeple are still burned across the inside of my skull.

“How can I relax when the western cantos are being flooded with wyrd, and my men are risking their lives and sanity trying to contain it?” I ask.

I turn and start my return trip to the window through the little town Lillabella and Tristan had made on the salon compartment floor, boots thumping in time with the clock’s tick as I go. I could feel the pout on her face as I continued my frustrated spiel.

“Our people are terrified. Our friend Powell is crucifying me in his editorials. Your Fairy Godmother has apparently been keeping things from us.” I stop at the window. I look at the grandfather clock, then out the window. “This train needs to get going so I can march right up to Fionnuala and demand she give me…”

As I turn to pace back across the floor, Aoibheann’s lips lock with mine, and I feel the anxiety drain right out of me. I didn’t hear her get up or her feet on the carpet. Her soft arms embrace me, and I feel lighter than air. When she finishes kissing me, she rests her head against my chest and, in a voice so sad and tiny, says, “Freddy Pooh, please, you have not slept in three days; won’t you come and lie down for a spell?”

I could not resist that sad voice and those big brown pouting eyes. She led me back across the compartment through my children’s play and back to the sofa. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying down with my head upon her lap. She stroked my hair and fur. I was so very tired.

Somewhere in the distance came a clunking sound that jolted the carriage. It nearly jolted me out of my wife’s lap and back into worrying.

“We must ask Fionnuala about those facility explosions, surely …”

She shushed me and, with a smile, said, “Rest, my love; those are tomorrow’s concerns.”

The carriage started to rock under me, and the stroking of my wife soon lulled me into sleep. With a great big yawn, I closed my eyes and dreamed of fairytale dancing beneath fairy lights in the woods with my Aoibheann.

Aoibheann

My poor darling Freddy Pooh. You always get this way when you get stressed. You shuffle back and forth like a horse before a battle, looking this way and that for something to happen. 

I am sorry that I had to use a little sleep spell on you.

 At least you’re adorable when you sleep, like an overgrown puppy.

Hopefully some time away from our thrones will help you relax. Eight blissful days in Aunty Fifi’s court will make you forget all your worries here, and maybe all this trouble will blow over by the time we return home.

The little ones have already discovered that this special room we have been sitting in for a while moves through the countryside. Tristan and Lillabella have climbed up onto the other sofa to get a better look out one of the windows. I can sense their expressions of wide-eyed wonder and awe as they watch the city slowly slip by and fade into the surrounding forest.

“Mama, Mama, wook.” said Lillabella as she pointed at one of the river willow trees 

How precious. 

My babies, however, are not enjoying all the vibrating and shaking. Whimsy and Marigold had crawled over to my feet, whimpering and seeking comfort, and little Hilda was wailing at the top of her lungs; maybe putting her down for after-feeding tummy time wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Oh, Pippy, be a dear and come in, please,” I called out as I undid the buttons on Freddy”s jacket.

Moments later, Miss Pippán, our elven governess, glided through the salon compartment door on soft slippers. “What may I do, Your Grace?” she said with a curtsy.

My face flashed a brief pout. I told her and the rest of the staff to call me Bea or Aoibheann, not Your Grace.

“Can you please see to Hilda?” I asked. “I would do it myself, but I seem to have a king sleeping in my lap.”

Pippy smiled and, with the skill of a professional, scooped Hilda up and started to soothe her. Within moments, Hilda was merely sniffling unhappily, and Pippy was showering her with simple compliments.

“Pippy, I think Hilda will be happier in her nursery compartment,” I said as I started to remove Freddy’s jacket. 

“What of Tristan, Lillabella, Marigold and Whimsy?”

“Yes, I think it might be time for Marigold and Whimsy’s afternoon nap,” I said,” as for Lillabella and Tristan, I will keep an eye on them.”

Pippy smiled and scooped up my other two babies before disappearing through the compartment door. I could hear her shoes on the stairs fade away into the distance.

I yawned. Freddy Pooh wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep these last few nights. It’s hard to sleep alone when you’ve gotten used to such a handsome, fluffy pillow as Freddy Pooh, and the anticipation of all the fun we are going to have didn’t help either.

I suppose a little nap will not hurt.

I gingerly lift Freddy’s head and slip my legs underneath him, so now he lies upon my chest

I changed reality so the sofa was always a little bit roomier, the pillows a little bit larger, there were many more of them, and Freddy Pooh had a blanket draped over him.

I smiled sweetly. I was getting really good at using Retconn; I don’t even have to say what I want to change out loud anymore. I still don’t even know what Retconn means. I wonder sometimes why Aunty Fifi chose that name for my power.

I yawned much louder than the last one. I wrapped my arms around Freddy Pooh and closed my eyes.

I dreamt of tea parties with Aunty Fifi and her daughter and the games we used to play when I was little. I cannot express how much I missed those holidays in Slanach Town and the Castle of Dreams.