#marainne

But, even watching them flee for the blood red horizon, Bog still would find himself hovering above the crowd of cowering Fairy denizens. “My Forest is open to all who need protection,” he’d call out, pointing his staff towards the darkened shadows of a border slated with thorns. “This land is not safe under the watch of your enemies. We will provide shelter with my people where it is available. You will not be harmed.” 

And many will reject it. And some will very cautiously agree, stepping forward to the more open of the Goblins who, though few, were quick to drag the tired and hurt to their homes and offer food and shelter and beds until security was officially approved. 

And perhaps this would allow for better relations to start.

And perhaps this would make way for a more stable alliance.

But Marianne’s amazement for him would surpass anything in that moment. And she’d pull him aside as soon as the crowd turned away to wind arms round his neck, whispering, “I’m proud of you,” until he hugged her back just as tightly, glad to be doing something right. 

And then the two of them would wander back, opening the castle up to the few who could even fathom staying under the same roof as the infamous monster that was the Bog King. And of course, one of those would be Dawn.

And that is who this post is basically about.

Because as much as I cannot wait to focus on the building relationships between Kingdoms, there is something so amazing hilarious about the idea of Dawn sleeping over at Bog’s house. It’s just... she’s such a kid. And this entire situation is going to be so much like a child and their parents. Just you watch.

Marianne and Bog are going to say their goodnights, curl up in bed from a long day and fall fast asleep. Until there’s a sound from their room wakes them both. They’ll spring from underneath covers, ready to wage battle on the intruder, only to find Dawn standing over the bed. 

“Dawn...” Marianne rubbed at her eyes, settling back against the headboard. Beside her, Bog yawned, fangs flashing, looking a little worse for wear. “What are you...” it was her turn to yawn, mouth stretching, “... what’r’ya doin’ here?”

“There was a sound outside!” Dawn fiddled with her nightgown, eyes twitching to the barred windows of the room. “There’s something out there!”

“It’s a forest, Dawn,” Marianne drew up the covers again, settling back down. Bog mumbled something that sounded distinctly not English and very much not polite by any standards under his breath and she gave his side a poke. “There are sounds out there. That’s how it works.”

“No! There’s something there! Boggy, you have to go and check! It might come and kidnap me!”

“Bog...” he corrected numbly, “An’ tha onleh thing capable af kidnappin’ ya oot here, lass,” Bog grumbled, accent thick with sleep, following Marianne’s example and slumping back into his side of the bed, “is me. An’ ahm too tired. So go’way.” 

“But what if there’s a monster!”

“Then tell it to shut the windows on it’s way out after it eats you,” Marianne snipped, draping an arm over her eyes. “It gets cold in here if you don’t.” Dawn whined and bounced on her toes. Marianne let out a huff. “Fine. Bog, go check.”

“Why can’t ye check!”

“Because you’re the guy.”

“So!”

“Oh just get your ass out there,” and she placed a well aimed kick at his feet. He reciprocated and she yelped when claws thrashed her carelessly followed by a glare across the bed. He did get up though, grabbing his staff with another few grumbles in an ancient tongue and marched from the room, Dawn following close at his heels babbling on about horns and teeth and scales and glowing eyes.

He would return victorious ten minutes later. “Did you catch the murderer,” she mumbled into the pillows, feeling him shift covers as he sidled into bed once more.

“Yes. The owl had his blade ready to attack at any time.”

“I knew it.” There was a rustle and then a huff. “Your hands are cold, keep them to yourself.”

“Some way to treat a hero.”

“Hero my ass.” But she did eventually allow herself to be cradled happily to him, and he snuggled her closer, pressing a kiss to her brow, glad to have an inkling of rest.

It wouldn’t last long. Not when Marianne awoke to the feeling of something poking insistently at her back between her wings. She groaned, nestling closer against Bog’s chest, heaving out a sigh that caressed scales. He mumbled in his sleep, breathing in deeply and letting out an equally blustery sigh into her hair, claws winding tighter round her waist. There was a moment of peaceful silence, and then,

“Marianne...”

“Go. Away.”

“...whathappenin...” Bog grumbled from above her, sharp nose poking against her brow. “... are we under’tack? Tell’em ta go’way now... m’tired...”

“No. It’s Dawn.” Marianne rolled over, trying to escape his embrace. He just tugged her to him tighter. So she rolled back her neck, staring up at the young Princess. “What.”

“I need water.”

“Then go get some.”

“... tell Dawn ‘m gonna lock har in tha doongeun.” 

“No you’re not.” She looked back at the blonde, scowling. “The kitchen’s downstairs. Go get water.”

“But this palace is scary at night! And dark!”

“It’s literally called the Dark Forest, Dawn. What did you expect.”

“Pleaaaaaaase!”

She groaned, managing to unwind her paramours arms, who made it very clear how he felt about her absence, and shuffled out of bed. “Fine. Come on.”

“I’m stealing the covers,” Bog snarled after them. 

“I’m stealing them back,” she growled, shutting the door to their room behind her. She navigated the halls easily with her little sister in tow, the slip of a Fairy going on and on about how sad it was that Sunny couldn’t be here, and he was so brave he could have gotten her water, and Marianne made the point of expressing that it wasn’t quite bravery that had her traversing the halls for a drink at night but an annoying girl with blonde hair and blue eyes before shoving a cup in her hands and marching back up the stairs. 

“Are we safe for the night...?” His accent had thinned out again, and he grabbed her as soon as her knee hit the moss.

“I thought you were going to steal the covers.”

“I was. But I decided to forge an alliance with you, and now my land is available for sharing under certain protocol.” She snorted, burrowing beside him. “And you never answered me. Are we safe for the night? Is it over?”

“I think so...” She sighed. “She’s just not used to this place. It’s new for her. And she’s never been really good with... new...” He hummed. “And I think that without a love spell she’s more prone to just being herself.”

“And this is herself...”

“In the flesh.”

He groaned, but even she could feel the smile behind it. “At least she’s polite.”

“And cute. If she didn’t have that, and the fact that we’re related, I might have lost her somewhere in a swamp by now.” Marianne yawned. “Pretty sure that’s what kept you from killing her.”

“No. I was merely prolonging her doom when she was housed in my dungeon. It was evil.”

“Sure...”

“It was!”

“Go to sleep, Bog.”

All was well until one hour later, sun rise close to finding its place on the horizon, the couple was awoken to the sound of a plead of being too cold, and could Boggy please scrounge up more blankets for her because she would very much appreciate it and by the way thanks. 

Bonus: 

“We are never having kids...” Bog complained into the early morning, settling back down.

“I’m pregnant,” joked Marianne. 

Bog did not find it very funny. Especially after she’d talked him down from his 4 a.m breakdown.