Rabbit: July 1970
Title: Rabbit
Chapter Number/Title: July 1970: Triangle (41/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 2349
Workshop?: If you see something!
July 27, 1970
Triangle
“YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT MEEEEEEeeeeee,” cried the Great and Mighty Sorcerer Aldrick. He ran alongside an impossibly-blue pool, ignoring all conventional wisdom about the danger of running on poolsides. Great and Mighty Sorcerers did not bow to conventional wisdom about danger.
Tirion the Terrible followed in pursuit, brandishing a knobbly olive-wood wand. Unlike Aldrick, he took more precautions when it came to pool safety, and judged the slick path to be not worth the effort. Instead, he tossed his wand aside and dove into the pool, propelling himself under the water for half the length before coming up for air. He closed his eyes and swam for his nemesis, who was standing at the far edge of the pool and dancing in mockery.
As he came back to the surface and opened his eyes, he looked past the dancing target and saw a small gathering of witches. One was Angelique Lestrange, which was to be expected, it being her villa; the second was Sophie du Pontier, which was also unsurprising, her being Angelique’s mother; and the third was Madame LeBlanc, with her daughter Rosalie at her side. This was, in fact, a surprise.
“Sirius,” he warned.
Instead of stopping, the embarrassing dance only grew more pronounced. “I AM NOT SIRIUS. I AM ALDRICK, THE GREATEST SORCERER YOU HAVE EVER DUELLED.”
“No. Sirius. The LeBlancs.” Rabastan reached one hand out to the edge of the pool and drew himself forward, nodding in the direction of the newcomers.
Sirius, still crouched over the edge of the water, turned his head. Without wasting time on any sense of embarrassment, he smoothly stood, turned, and rested one elbow on the pool ladder.
Rabastan could feel his mother getting ready to chide him, and pushed himself out of the water and onto the tiled patio. He squeezed some water out of his dripping hair and waved. “Bonjour, Madame. Bonjour, Rosalie.”
The women approached.
Angelique cast wearied eyes toward her son. “Rabastan, I told you Rosalie would be coming at three.”
“Right, of course. I remember.” He did not. Or maybe, now he did, faintly. “Rosalie, this is my best friend, Sirius Black,” he said. “Sirius, Rosalie LeBlanc.”
Rosalie nodded her head, and Sirius mustered all the grace and decorum that he had been forced to learn. “How do you do?”
“Enchantée,” said Rosalie, holding her hand out and giving a sweet smile. “My pleasure to meet you.” As Sirius took her hand awkwardly, Rosalie blushed, and then looked up at her mother for a nod of approval. It was given, and the older women took a step away, and began talking amongst themselves in hurried French. Rosalie and Sirius dropped hands and the girl looked slowly between the two English boys with disdain. “You are in swim clothes.”
“Yes,” said Rabastan. “We were swimming.”
“We were actually playing,” Sirius corrected. “I was the Great and Mighty Sorcerer Aldrick, evading capture from the dastardly Tirion the Terrible.”
Rosalie stifled a laugh. “Are you not too old for ze … playing? You are eleven now, no?”
“In the fall. It’s summer now.” Rabastan crossed his arms. He was not sure whether he wanted to be younger or older in this situation. It was all getting far too confusing. And he had forgotten how forward Rosalie could be. At least her English had improved, he noted.
“And it’s fun,” noted Sirius. “We’ll start school next year, and then it will be lessons and serious business all day. Come on, you can play too! We can have a new game, with you. We’ll be dashing adventurers, hunting treasure, and you,” he gestured toward Rosalie, “can be the lovely noble witch who asks us to retrieve a priceless family heirloom!”
The girl touched her fingers to one braid, processing the words and considering the offer.
“My uncle’s an adventurer, you know,” Sirius added. “He travels the whole world battling the most dangerous creatures and finding the rarest artifacts, and he always tells me all about them when he comes home to England.”
Rosalie looked toward Rabastan for verification, and he nodded in support. That brightened her face somewhat, and she touched Sirius’ elbow. “And will you be an adventurer too?”
Sirius shrugged. “I’d love to. Maybe for a few years, go to the Pacific, and the Arctic, and have a bit of fun before I have to come back and take my father’s place. You know, heir to the House of Black.”
Rabastan could not roll his eyes far enough. He thought Rosalie above that sort of thing, but she seemed to hang on every word. “The game?”
“Right! The game!” Sirius’ gaze drifted toward the tops of the olive trees, and then snapped back to the other children. “A priceless family heirloom, like a magical jewel.”
“A ruby?” Rosalie suggested. “Eet could... be a very powerful ruby. To control ze entire country. Of Rualandia.”
The boys nodded, impressed that a girl could actually come up with anything fun for a game. And to their further surprise, she jumped right into it. Rosalie held her chin high and gestured dramatically.
“And zat is why I, ze Princess Elinora, will give more gold and land than you ‘ave ever ‘ad, if you can take back ze Ruby of Power from my evil sister before she makes ze entire country a land of darkness and ‘undreds of rules and no fun.”
Sirius nudged his friend and gave a short laugh. “Rabbit would love that -- all the rules and none of the fun.”
Rosalie apparently thought this was quite funny. Rabastan did not agree. “I like fun,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I’m not Rabbit. I’m Riodahn the Adventurer! And we will certainly track down your sister and bring back the Ruby of Power before it is too late!” The boy-turned-adventurer gave a sweeping boy with a flourish.
“Oh, no! A griffon! And it’s mad with rage! Maybe it’s hoarding the Ruby!” Sirius ran off in the direction of the imaginary griffon. “Never fear! Everyone knows that Zalmorius slays five foul creatures every morning to get the day started! You two check in that cave for the Ruby!”
Rosalie, or Princess Elinora of Rualandia, walked down the lawn with Rabastan, or Riodahn the Adventurer. “You never told me your friend was so funny,” she whispered. “And ‘andsome,” she added. Because that was helpful.
Rabastan stopped walking and glared. “That’s because we’re friends. We’re not going steady.”
Dry humor did not translate well, and Rosalie shook her head. “You should ‘ave told me.”
“What?” He took a step back. “No, I should not have, because it’s none of your business and you shouldn’t fancy my best mate.” Rosalie narrowed her eyes. Since she had not agreed, Rabastan decided, she must not understand, so he switched to her native tongue. “You cannot like Sirius. He is off limits. Understand?”
“I can like anyone I want, Rabastan Lestrange,” she answered. “And I like boys who are handsome and have a sense of humor and are not afraid of everything that jumps in the forest. So I can like Sirius and there is not one ounce of anything you can do about it.”
Sometimes, Rabastan hated Rosalie. “No, he is... you … he is already betrothed. So there.”
That, at least, made her reevaluate. She blinked slowly. “What is her name?”
“What does it matter? She lives in England.”
“It matters because you are lying, Rabastan.”
He crossed his arms defiantly, and said the first name that came to mind. “Narcissa Black.”
Rosalie looked back at him askance. “I thought his name was Black.”
“It is. She’s his cousin. His mom is a Black too. They do that, the Blacks.” That worked: Rosalie’s eyes were wide and she was out of clever retorts. Maybe that had gone too far. But maybe Sirius should not have been trying to make Rosalie get a stupid crush on him. Rosalie walked quietly back with Rabastan toward Sirius -- or Zalmorius the Adventurer.
“What did you find?” he asked. “I defeated the giant crazed griffon. You’re quite welcome.”
“Thank you very much,” said Rosalie. She grabbed an oddly-shaped stick and adjusted it into her hair like a tiara. “We did not find the Ruby of Power, but we were able to find the Crown of Beauty.”
Rabastan’s eyebrows shot up in judgment. He did not understand how a girl could make even an adventuring pretend game so … girly.
He looked for Sirius for agreement, but Sirius was too busy playing along. “Oh, I see! You’ve become ten times more beautiful than before! I’m sure witches across the land will pay a dear fortune for such a thing.”
Rosalie held her head high. “More beautiful than your cousin Narcissa?”
Rabastan wished with all his might that he had a wand, for the express purpose of hexing Rosalie to never speak again.
Sirius slowly turned toward Rabastan as if his friend had grown three heads. “Rabbit. Please tell me you haven’t grown some freakish adoration of Cissy, or I’ll have to kill you, for your own good.”
“Do not worry, Sirius,” assured Rosalie, unhelpfully. “He knows Narcissa is to be your wife.”
“My what?” Sirius growled. His hands had balled up into fists, and his cool eyes were now icy cold.
“Yes, he--” Rosalie started, but Sirius did not wait for her explanation. He snatched Rabastan’s arm and pulled him away, holding his other hand up as a shield from more words.
“I-- I can explain,” said Rabastan as he was dragged across the small lawn.
Sirius stood close to Rabastan, standing as tall as he could to hold his height advantage. “I’m waiting, Rabbit.”
Sometimes, it was easy for Rabastan to half-forget that the playful and adventurous Sirius was very much the son of the stern and fierce Walburga Black. This was not one of those times. Rabastan swallowed and willed himself to not look away.
“Rosalie is my friend. And you’re my best mate, one-hundred-percent, but if she goes and fancies you than she won’t be a friend at all. She’ll just be a stupid girl who spends all her time asking about you and being stupid and girly. And there’s only so much I want to hear about how funny and brave and ‘‘andsome’ you are.”
“What, so you go tell her I’m marrying my cousin? Sorry if I don’t see the connection, there, because from here it doesn’t look like you’re keeping a friend. It looks like you’re making a joke out of your so-called one-hundred-percent one.”
Rabastan nodded in understanding. “That was a mistake. I -- I didn’t think she would ask for a name! It was the first one I thought of. I’m sorry, you just... ugh, nothing. I’m sorry.”
“I just what?” Sirius tilted his head. The frightening Walburga-face softened, but there was still a slight edge to his tone.
“You get everything. And everyone likes you more, and--”
“Darren likes you more,” Sirius offered. They both knew it was weak, but at least he was trying.
Rabastan wiped a few errant water droplets from his neck. “Darren is my cousin. You get to be the dashing hilarious heir and I’m just some boring friend.”
“You aren’t boring. I lo-oathe boring people.”
That won a half-hearted smile. “Rosalie thinks I am,” he grumbled.
“O-oh.” Sirius grinned. “I didn’t realize you liked her. You only had to say so.”
“I don’t!” Rabastan’s face was sour, but the tops of his ears flushed pink against his dark brown hair. “It’s... our families think I should,” he said lamely.
“Mm-hmm. Well, Rabbit,” Sirius said, “we can just change the game and Zalmorius will reveal that he’s really evil and trying to steal the Ruby for himself! You know, to make your ‘families’ happy.” Rabastan swatted at Sirius’ scare-quote fingers, but didn’t protest. “But don’t ever,” Sirius added, with a finger jabbed at Rabastan’s shoulder, “lie about me like that again, or I’ll fill your bed with fire ants and never come visit ever. I’m not betrothed to anyone and definitely not Cissy.”
“Definitely not,” Rabastan agreed.
The two boys shared a conversation of faces -- sorry, honest - as you should be - so we’re friends then? - always, best mates -- and walked back up toward the patio.
As they got closer they broke into a run. “Careful, Princess!” Rabastan was shouting. “Zalmorius is not who he says he is! He’s evil! He’s going to take the Ruby for himself!”
“Mwa-HA-HA-HA,” cackled the evil Zalmorius.
But Princess Elinora was nowhere to be seen. The boys exchanged a glance and a shrug, and then heard a more feminine cackling.
“‘e is too late,” the voice declared. Rosalie-Elinora was looking down upon the boys, holding an invisible orb in her hands. She would have looked the model of good breeding, her back straight, her legs crossed only at the ankles -- that is, if she were not sitting so in the arms of a high statue that overlooked the pool and grove. “Ze griffon was ‘olding ze Ruby for my sister, but I ‘ave ze Ruby now. And soon I will be ze queen, Queen Elinora ze Magnificent.”
“No! You can never have the Ruby of Power!” shouted Zalmorius.
“You cannot take it, unless you swim ze three moats of my castle and cross ze haunted forest and zen fight ze dragons.”
“Then we’ll swim and burn the forest and slay all the dragons!”
The boys ran up to the edge of the pool, readying themselves to begin crossing the three moats. “Wait,” said Rabastan. “Rosalie, Sirius isn’t marrying his cousin. I was lying.”
Rosalie took in the words, with a hint of surprise, and then happiness, and then settled into smugness. “For ze lying, you will be punished, if you do not drown in ze moats or become ze breakfast for evil beasts or burn to death in ze dragons’ breath!”
Rabastan could live with that. He looked for a nod from his friend and then dove forward into the moat of the dreaded Queen Elinora.
Chapter Number/Title: July 1970: Triangle (41/100) [[ Previous | Next]]
Rating: G
Word Count: 2349
Workshop?: If you see something!
July 27, 1970
Triangle
“YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT MEEEEEEeeeeee,” cried the Great and Mighty Sorcerer Aldrick. He ran alongside an impossibly-blue pool, ignoring all conventional wisdom about the danger of running on poolsides. Great and Mighty Sorcerers did not bow to conventional wisdom about danger.
Tirion the Terrible followed in pursuit, brandishing a knobbly olive-wood wand. Unlike Aldrick, he took more precautions when it came to pool safety, and judged the slick path to be not worth the effort. Instead, he tossed his wand aside and dove into the pool, propelling himself under the water for half the length before coming up for air. He closed his eyes and swam for his nemesis, who was standing at the far edge of the pool and dancing in mockery.
As he came back to the surface and opened his eyes, he looked past the dancing target and saw a small gathering of witches. One was Angelique Lestrange, which was to be expected, it being her villa; the second was Sophie du Pontier, which was also unsurprising, her being Angelique’s mother; and the third was Madame LeBlanc, with her daughter Rosalie at her side. This was, in fact, a surprise.
“Sirius,” he warned.
Instead of stopping, the embarrassing dance only grew more pronounced. “I AM NOT SIRIUS. I AM ALDRICK, THE GREATEST SORCERER YOU HAVE EVER DUELLED.”
“No. Sirius. The LeBlancs.” Rabastan reached one hand out to the edge of the pool and drew himself forward, nodding in the direction of the newcomers.
Sirius, still crouched over the edge of the water, turned his head. Without wasting time on any sense of embarrassment, he smoothly stood, turned, and rested one elbow on the pool ladder.
Rabastan could feel his mother getting ready to chide him, and pushed himself out of the water and onto the tiled patio. He squeezed some water out of his dripping hair and waved. “Bonjour, Madame. Bonjour, Rosalie.”
The women approached.
Angelique cast wearied eyes toward her son. “Rabastan, I told you Rosalie would be coming at three.”
“Right, of course. I remember.” He did not. Or maybe, now he did, faintly. “Rosalie, this is my best friend, Sirius Black,” he said. “Sirius, Rosalie LeBlanc.”
Rosalie nodded her head, and Sirius mustered all the grace and decorum that he had been forced to learn. “How do you do?”
“Enchantée,” said Rosalie, holding her hand out and giving a sweet smile. “My pleasure to meet you.” As Sirius took her hand awkwardly, Rosalie blushed, and then looked up at her mother for a nod of approval. It was given, and the older women took a step away, and began talking amongst themselves in hurried French. Rosalie and Sirius dropped hands and the girl looked slowly between the two English boys with disdain. “You are in swim clothes.”
“Yes,” said Rabastan. “We were swimming.”
“We were actually playing,” Sirius corrected. “I was the Great and Mighty Sorcerer Aldrick, evading capture from the dastardly Tirion the Terrible.”
Rosalie stifled a laugh. “Are you not too old for ze … playing? You are eleven now, no?”
“In the fall. It’s summer now.” Rabastan crossed his arms. He was not sure whether he wanted to be younger or older in this situation. It was all getting far too confusing. And he had forgotten how forward Rosalie could be. At least her English had improved, he noted.
“And it’s fun,” noted Sirius. “We’ll start school next year, and then it will be lessons and serious business all day. Come on, you can play too! We can have a new game, with you. We’ll be dashing adventurers, hunting treasure, and you,” he gestured toward Rosalie, “can be the lovely noble witch who asks us to retrieve a priceless family heirloom!”
The girl touched her fingers to one braid, processing the words and considering the offer.
“My uncle’s an adventurer, you know,” Sirius added. “He travels the whole world battling the most dangerous creatures and finding the rarest artifacts, and he always tells me all about them when he comes home to England.”
Rosalie looked toward Rabastan for verification, and he nodded in support. That brightened her face somewhat, and she touched Sirius’ elbow. “And will you be an adventurer too?”
Sirius shrugged. “I’d love to. Maybe for a few years, go to the Pacific, and the Arctic, and have a bit of fun before I have to come back and take my father’s place. You know, heir to the House of Black.”
Rabastan could not roll his eyes far enough. He thought Rosalie above that sort of thing, but she seemed to hang on every word. “The game?”
“Right! The game!” Sirius’ gaze drifted toward the tops of the olive trees, and then snapped back to the other children. “A priceless family heirloom, like a magical jewel.”
“A ruby?” Rosalie suggested. “Eet could... be a very powerful ruby. To control ze entire country. Of Rualandia.”
The boys nodded, impressed that a girl could actually come up with anything fun for a game. And to their further surprise, she jumped right into it. Rosalie held her chin high and gestured dramatically.
“And zat is why I, ze Princess Elinora, will give more gold and land than you ‘ave ever ‘ad, if you can take back ze Ruby of Power from my evil sister before she makes ze entire country a land of darkness and ‘undreds of rules and no fun.”
Sirius nudged his friend and gave a short laugh. “Rabbit would love that -- all the rules and none of the fun.”
Rosalie apparently thought this was quite funny. Rabastan did not agree. “I like fun,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I’m not Rabbit. I’m Riodahn the Adventurer! And we will certainly track down your sister and bring back the Ruby of Power before it is too late!” The boy-turned-adventurer gave a sweeping boy with a flourish.
“Oh, no! A griffon! And it’s mad with rage! Maybe it’s hoarding the Ruby!” Sirius ran off in the direction of the imaginary griffon. “Never fear! Everyone knows that Zalmorius slays five foul creatures every morning to get the day started! You two check in that cave for the Ruby!”
Rosalie, or Princess Elinora of Rualandia, walked down the lawn with Rabastan, or Riodahn the Adventurer. “You never told me your friend was so funny,” she whispered. “And ‘andsome,” she added. Because that was helpful.
Rabastan stopped walking and glared. “That’s because we’re friends. We’re not going steady.”
Dry humor did not translate well, and Rosalie shook her head. “You should ‘ave told me.”
“What?” He took a step back. “No, I should not have, because it’s none of your business and you shouldn’t fancy my best mate.” Rosalie narrowed her eyes. Since she had not agreed, Rabastan decided, she must not understand, so he switched to her native tongue. “You cannot like Sirius. He is off limits. Understand?”
“I can like anyone I want, Rabastan Lestrange,” she answered. “And I like boys who are handsome and have a sense of humor and are not afraid of everything that jumps in the forest. So I can like Sirius and there is not one ounce of anything you can do about it.”
Sometimes, Rabastan hated Rosalie. “No, he is... you … he is already betrothed. So there.”
That, at least, made her reevaluate. She blinked slowly. “What is her name?”
“What does it matter? She lives in England.”
“It matters because you are lying, Rabastan.”
He crossed his arms defiantly, and said the first name that came to mind. “Narcissa Black.”
Rosalie looked back at him askance. “I thought his name was Black.”
“It is. She’s his cousin. His mom is a Black too. They do that, the Blacks.” That worked: Rosalie’s eyes were wide and she was out of clever retorts. Maybe that had gone too far. But maybe Sirius should not have been trying to make Rosalie get a stupid crush on him. Rosalie walked quietly back with Rabastan toward Sirius -- or Zalmorius the Adventurer.
“What did you find?” he asked. “I defeated the giant crazed griffon. You’re quite welcome.”
“Thank you very much,” said Rosalie. She grabbed an oddly-shaped stick and adjusted it into her hair like a tiara. “We did not find the Ruby of Power, but we were able to find the Crown of Beauty.”
Rabastan’s eyebrows shot up in judgment. He did not understand how a girl could make even an adventuring pretend game so … girly.
He looked for Sirius for agreement, but Sirius was too busy playing along. “Oh, I see! You’ve become ten times more beautiful than before! I’m sure witches across the land will pay a dear fortune for such a thing.”
Rosalie held her head high. “More beautiful than your cousin Narcissa?”
Rabastan wished with all his might that he had a wand, for the express purpose of hexing Rosalie to never speak again.
Sirius slowly turned toward Rabastan as if his friend had grown three heads. “Rabbit. Please tell me you haven’t grown some freakish adoration of Cissy, or I’ll have to kill you, for your own good.”
“Do not worry, Sirius,” assured Rosalie, unhelpfully. “He knows Narcissa is to be your wife.”
“My what?” Sirius growled. His hands had balled up into fists, and his cool eyes were now icy cold.
“Yes, he--” Rosalie started, but Sirius did not wait for her explanation. He snatched Rabastan’s arm and pulled him away, holding his other hand up as a shield from more words.
“I-- I can explain,” said Rabastan as he was dragged across the small lawn.
Sirius stood close to Rabastan, standing as tall as he could to hold his height advantage. “I’m waiting, Rabbit.”
Sometimes, it was easy for Rabastan to half-forget that the playful and adventurous Sirius was very much the son of the stern and fierce Walburga Black. This was not one of those times. Rabastan swallowed and willed himself to not look away.
“Rosalie is my friend. And you’re my best mate, one-hundred-percent, but if she goes and fancies you than she won’t be a friend at all. She’ll just be a stupid girl who spends all her time asking about you and being stupid and girly. And there’s only so much I want to hear about how funny and brave and ‘‘andsome’ you are.”
“What, so you go tell her I’m marrying my cousin? Sorry if I don’t see the connection, there, because from here it doesn’t look like you’re keeping a friend. It looks like you’re making a joke out of your so-called one-hundred-percent one.”
Rabastan nodded in understanding. “That was a mistake. I -- I didn’t think she would ask for a name! It was the first one I thought of. I’m sorry, you just... ugh, nothing. I’m sorry.”
“I just what?” Sirius tilted his head. The frightening Walburga-face softened, but there was still a slight edge to his tone.
“You get everything. And everyone likes you more, and--”
“Darren likes you more,” Sirius offered. They both knew it was weak, but at least he was trying.
Rabastan wiped a few errant water droplets from his neck. “Darren is my cousin. You get to be the dashing hilarious heir and I’m just some boring friend.”
“You aren’t boring. I lo-oathe boring people.”
That won a half-hearted smile. “Rosalie thinks I am,” he grumbled.
“O-oh.” Sirius grinned. “I didn’t realize you liked her. You only had to say so.”
“I don’t!” Rabastan’s face was sour, but the tops of his ears flushed pink against his dark brown hair. “It’s... our families think I should,” he said lamely.
“Mm-hmm. Well, Rabbit,” Sirius said, “we can just change the game and Zalmorius will reveal that he’s really evil and trying to steal the Ruby for himself! You know, to make your ‘families’ happy.” Rabastan swatted at Sirius’ scare-quote fingers, but didn’t protest. “But don’t ever,” Sirius added, with a finger jabbed at Rabastan’s shoulder, “lie about me like that again, or I’ll fill your bed with fire ants and never come visit ever. I’m not betrothed to anyone and definitely not Cissy.”
“Definitely not,” Rabastan agreed.
The two boys shared a conversation of faces -- sorry, honest - as you should be - so we’re friends then? - always, best mates -- and walked back up toward the patio.
As they got closer they broke into a run. “Careful, Princess!” Rabastan was shouting. “Zalmorius is not who he says he is! He’s evil! He’s going to take the Ruby for himself!”
“Mwa-HA-HA-HA,” cackled the evil Zalmorius.
But Princess Elinora was nowhere to be seen. The boys exchanged a glance and a shrug, and then heard a more feminine cackling.
“‘e is too late,” the voice declared. Rosalie-Elinora was looking down upon the boys, holding an invisible orb in her hands. She would have looked the model of good breeding, her back straight, her legs crossed only at the ankles -- that is, if she were not sitting so in the arms of a high statue that overlooked the pool and grove. “Ze griffon was ‘olding ze Ruby for my sister, but I ‘ave ze Ruby now. And soon I will be ze queen, Queen Elinora ze Magnificent.”
“No! You can never have the Ruby of Power!” shouted Zalmorius.
“You cannot take it, unless you swim ze three moats of my castle and cross ze haunted forest and zen fight ze dragons.”
“Then we’ll swim and burn the forest and slay all the dragons!”
The boys ran up to the edge of the pool, readying themselves to begin crossing the three moats. “Wait,” said Rabastan. “Rosalie, Sirius isn’t marrying his cousin. I was lying.”
Rosalie took in the words, with a hint of surprise, and then happiness, and then settled into smugness. “For ze lying, you will be punished, if you do not drown in ze moats or become ze breakfast for evil beasts or burn to death in ze dragons’ breath!”
Rabastan could live with that. He looked for a nod from his friend and then dove forward into the moat of the dreaded Queen Elinora.