smallestopener | Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story.

Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story.

Ingress had a brilliant birthday. She’s eleven. Eleven is nearly grown up! It’s also the year when children in the stories she’s read come into their own. Adventures begin, schooling starts, worlds are saved… she can hardly wait to see what will happen next.

Her party earlier was such fun. Door was almost nice to Puck; Ingress had worried a little about that after she invited him. But he was very nice and charming, and Tom was nice, too, and Puck helped Ingress steal lots of roses off the cake while Havelock talked to Tom and Door, and it was brilliant.

She ate far too much icing sugar, but Tom had the peppermint potion waiting for her when the party was over. She feels much better now. And she’s eleven!

It sounds so good in her head. Eleven, eleven, eleven.

She should have asked Mary to stay the night with her, she thinks, as she tosses and turns. She’s never going to fall asleep, even with staying up past her bedtime. Tom and Door insisted she go to bed after she started yawning. They can be so silly sometimes.

She tosses one more time, and she thinks, again, how impossible it will be to go to sleep tonight. Her eyelids flutter and close. It is not long before she’s deep in dreams.

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The flutter of eyelashes against her cheek might catch her attention.

That and the huge, slightly misshapen, brightly colored butterflies that are fluttering out of the fireplace and swirling around her.

Dancing.

Then they explode, soundless and bright, in a shower of glitter.

And soot.

Raven picks himself up out of the mess, nose wrinkling as he sneezes.

His coat is white.

"It is, I think, almost old home week, yes?"

He reaches forward, cupping Ingress' chin in one hand.

"Try not to forget."

Some things really don't change.

Except when they do.

Ingress twirls in delight as the glitter showers down.

The butterflies have curly eyelashes, and they wink at her. Ingress winks back as she chases after them.

When she sees Raven, she squeals in glee. Once he speaks, she throws her arms around him in a big big big hug.

"I shall never forget, silly."

She drapes one of her necklaces over his head. It has purple and blue beads with tiny prisms in between. It is one of her very favorites. It can be his now.

Raven wrinkles his nose, leaning down to ruffle her hair.

"That, I think, is what I said, too."

And then he's gone.

So is the necklace.

The glitter, however, remains.

That stuff gets everywhere.

That's what she likes best about it. Ingress scoops up two handfuls of glitter and throws it into the air. She waits to spin as it rains down... but it doesn't.

One of the huge purple butterfly flaps its wings over her, its wings shimmering.

"Oh, it's magic," she whispers. "Glitter magic!"

It winks again and reaches down a gloved hand. Ingress takes it, and the butterfly pulls her up into the air.

"Eeeeeee!" she squeals in delight. Flying is so much fun, even if it's only as high as the rafters.

The rafters are awfully high up, though.

After a moment, a bright shape flutters from some of the higher shadows. It is a robin redbreast, rather larger than is usual, and with feathers that gleam nearly enough to put off their own light.

"Well," Puck chirps pleasantly, "taking the air, mistress?"

"I am, I am," she says, and there is no longer a butterfly lifting her up. She has purple wings of her own!

"Hi, Puck," she calls, fluttering over a beam. It's easy to fly.

Because it has to be Puck. Who else would be such a pretty robin?

Puck flits and dips along after her, singing a cheery robinsong under his breath.

"Shall you come and wave hullo to the rest?" he inquires. A birdy smile. "We've all come round, you see, in your honor."

"Your aerial technique is a little sloppy," comes a cool considering voice from nearby, and Havelock leans back against his rafter, half in and half out of the shadows.

"But in honour of the occasion, perhaps we can let it slide."

"God, Havelock," Lilly says, looking up from the hammock that has appeared, slung between two rafters. What? It's hard to fly without spilling your drink!

"Can you save the endless technique refinement for the bedroom? We're here to celebrate."

She grins at Ingress.

"Cute shoes."

They are blue and sparkly - her very favorite pair.

"Thanks, Lilly," she says, kicking her legs out to see the sparkles better. She does this with very little wobbling as her wings flap and balance her.

So there!

"I didn't know so many people came up into the rafters."

That hammock looks comfy cozy.

Havelock raises his hands in gently mocking surrender.

"It's a fair enough place to watch the world go by," he says, and then because in dreams you can be as honest as you please, "I like it here."

"Of course you do, silly," says Ingress, because in dreams you can call the dour assassins who teach you 'silly'.

"All the people you like best are here."

She flutters around Lilly, kissing her on the top of her head.

Puck the robin swoops past Lilly with a titter of bright laughter and comes to land on Havelock's shoulder. By the time he has done this he is quite small, small enough to perch relatively unobtrusively and nuzzle his downy, feathery head against Havelock's cheek.

"Quite so," he agrees cheerfully.

"And you, Ingress? What of the people you like best?"

Edited 2010-05-24 00:33 (UTC)

"But of course they're all here, too," she says, and there are ice cream cones in her hands. "With me."

The ice cream cones are from Florean's in Diagon Alley, twisted into fanciful shapes like unicorn horns and intricate loop-de-loops. The flavors are unusual, too, and Lilly's smells a little like her drink. Okay, Ingress thinks, it smells a lot like her drink, but just as there are adult milkshakes, she reckons there are adult ice cream cones, too. She hands Lilly's to her and then Havelock's to him.

How a bird can eat an ice cream cone, Ingress isn't sure, but she has faith that Puck will figure it out. He's clever!

"Damn straight," Lilly says cheerfully, beaming up at Ingress. She figures this includes the kids, who are... somewhere around. Havelock probably knows where.

"Ice cream and everything," she says, sampling hers. It's very good, in that special adult way that will give Tom apoplexy when Lilly teaches Ingress about it in a few years.

"You definitely know how to party."

That is a pretty brilliant compliment. It is akin to Lan not frowning as much when he tells her she's progressing.

She beams and her wings flap. "Thanks!"

Havelock is peering at his ice cream with clinical interest.

...

Give him a moment.

"Don't worry, Havelock," Ingress reassures him as she bites off the top of her loop-de-loop. "It's a very serious flavor."

"Tastes like death?" Lilly asks, looking hopeful. "Because I've always imagined she has a White Russian flavor to her at this point."

Not that Lilly has ever pondered licking Death. Shut up. Just because Raph seemed to think it was fun...

Anyway.

"I wouldn't know," Havelock says, eyeing Lilly in mild amusement.

"But it's very good."

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Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story.

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