So. It happened. I was in Narnia. Oh my motherfucking god.
"Calm down, Stella," I reminded myself. "This could be at any time in Narnia. You could be in a time of terrible war and destruction—or worse, in a time where you're stuck with just the Pevensies." I shuddered. I was not in the mood for that sort of encounter—one in which there would likely be a catfight, possibly some name calling, and eventually death for someone who would probably be me.
It had all started with a dentist appointment. Then I heard that I would be having four teeth randomly removed from my face because there wasn't enough room for the rest of my chompers. My first thought: Holy Jesus, please oh please let me have a Prince Caspian-themed acid-trip-like experience. Lucky for me, the second or third deity I prayed to after that probably did the trick. Thank you, Kali—I always knew you were a badass.
Anyway, now I was on a beach, looking up at that castle which I wasn't even going to try to spell out in my mind, because I was totes high on laughing gas and probably an unreliable speller.
"Who in Aslan's name are you?" a voice asked, from somewhere nearby. I turned around and there was a faun.
My first thought then was that he looked like this guy I liked, and that if said guy actually grew a beard like that in real life then I was going to be so pissed.
"Wow, dude, you're like…all animal-y and stuff," I said brightly, sort of squinting. "Take me to your leader or whatever."
"My name is Ashton. And you are?" I was about to die laughing. A faun named Ashton. Seriously.
"I'm Stella. I'm a…sorceress. Yeah. A sorceress. From the place where the kings and queens and junk came from." I tried to act more C.S. Lewis-worthy, but I was probably not very good at it.
"Do you seek audience with their majesties, the high kings and queens of Narnia?" Okay, so the Pevensies were there. Big deal.
"Yeah, that would be cool, but if Prince Caspian happens to be anywhere nearby that would rock majorly." I curtseyed politely, and, in doing so, realized that I was dressed like a Scotsman from the 1700s. I was pretty impressed my the whole kilt deal, but kinda uncomfortable with all of the historical accuracy of it. If you know what a Scotsman wears under his kilt, then you know why I might have been a little worried. After thinking it over, I decided to forget about it—after all, I was wearing a shirt, so I really had nothing to complain about.
"You wish to speak with Prince Caspian?" Ashton gave me a look. "In that outfit?"At that point, the dream got really weird. Let's just say that there was a whole 'What Not to Wear' sequence and my dream self was given some undies (thank Kali). Then we traveled to the castle, which was apparently a short walking distance, and not a mile up a cliff at all.
We walked up to the dais where their majesties were sitting.
"Who are you?" Susan asked, looking rather surprised.
"I'm Stella of Bell, sorceress and bringer of sharks," I replied. Don't ask me why I was a bringer of sharks; I just was, and there's nothing you or I can say about it.
"What do you want?" Peter inquired, leaning forward in his throne. I imagine I looked a little odd.
"She seeks an audience with the Prince, your majesty," Ashton said respectfully.
"Don't we all?" Susan said loftily, grinning.
"Oh hell no," I growled. "Don't you start with me, Susan, don't you even start." Then Susan and I started talking all ghetto for some reason and I was all like, "Am I gonna have to smack a bitch?" and she was all like "Bitch you think you tough?" And there was an altercation and some talking back and forth and then I was just like "Whatever" and Ashton and I went to look for Prince Caspian.
Unfortunately, that's where the story ends, because the dentist told me it was time to wake up and that I could go home. Too bad. It could have been really awesome.