King Nydon is defeated. Chained in his dungeons is the visage of his supposed daughter with the brain of an unfortunate Goose. Simple enough to turn the poor creature back. Only, the goose princess reacts violently to the proposition and… is she trying to talk with human words? Oh no. Looks like Wraithvine and the Twin Mages will have to figure out who’s to care for this creature… -- Deathshead419
[AN: Whoops, I turned her back to goosiness in an earlier story so now it's a case of morphic resistance. Also following on from this: @internutter/challenge-04634-l250-oceans-rise ]
It was kinder, at that point in proceedings, to keep Nydon shackled. He was getting violent and preventing harm all around involved restraints. The odds were high that Nydon would hurt himself. And he would not be allowed out until he stopped trying to hurt himself and others.
There was a nurse who tended to his needs, and kept careful track of his true emotions. Just to be certain he would be safe when he said he was safe.
Meanwhile, Wraithvine was having a different problem with Trudy the goose. Ze had already changed her back into a goose twice. And though she seemed to enjoy it for a pace of time, she was inevitably back in a human shape and looking like Reginald did before his transformation. Needless to say, the palace guards now always carried a pouch containing a simple shift in case it happened again.
Which it just had.
Trudy, currently nestled in a collection of blankets and pillows, seemed content until she saw Wraithvine. She hissed at him, spread her arms out of goosy habit, and then... she said, "No!"
Wraithvine nearly tripped over hirself, ze was so shocked. "I'm... sorry?"
"Yes," said Trudy, as if to say, You should be. And to make herself clear, she added, "No wing. No beak. I stay."
Those were complete sentences. Wraithvine fell into a sitting position in utter shock. Held up hir hands in a surrender position. "I... we need to work on this," ze managed. "You were not meant to be Human."
"Am now," said Trudy. "Magic."
"Ye-es... magic did transform your body but... it never should have."
"Did," announced Trudy. "Want it."
"Ah. I see. How old are you, do you know?"
Fingers and toes splayed. "Of the weeks, you say. And fy-have more."
She was growing more eloquent the longer she remained in this shape. Interesting. "Twenty-five weeks?"
Enthusiastic nodding. "Yes. Twenty-five weeks. That. Very young goose."
"Even younger Human," noted Wraithvine. "At twenty-five weeks, a Human is sitting steadily on their own, and not yet able to speak."
Trudy smiled. "I like this more. It's better."
Alarming. Absolutely fascinating, but also alarming. "And you don't want to be a goose, any more."
A firm shake of her head. "Goose lives three-tens years. Human lives eight-tens years. Is more. I like more."
Direct. "And the other things? Learning to be social? Using cutlery? Wearing underwear? Or shoes?"
There was some internal calculation. "Might learn," she decided. "Want to stay. You can't make me be goose. Not for long."
"True," Wraithvine allowed. "We'll have to see what can be done, but you will need someone to look after you and teach you."
She seethed a little at that, but eventually said, "That will do."
Wraithvine was merciless, in the end, thrusting Trudy onto Henkar and Molys, announcing, "Your mess. Your daughter," before moving on to other problems.
[Photo by Krisztina Papp on Unsplash]
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40 weeks mature, 20 yr lifespan
