The preserve, Saturday afternoon

[existencemisspent]

The nightmares weren't getting worse, but they weren't getting any better, either. Eliot's usual coping mechanisms of drugs and booze and hedonism hadn't done much more than fuck over his entire sleep schedule, so that he ended up taking naps at random moments and waking up with an overwhelming need to escape. This usually led him to the bottom of a bottle, but Margo had said that she ran into Rafe and Abigail, of all people, at some event thrown by the school, so maybe they were going to make it back to Fillory soon. In which case, he should at least try not to be wasted or hungover.

So today, he was escaping physically. Putting as much distance between himself and his bed as possible. Which led to him hiking, in dress shoes and silk of all things, into the preserve.

He was unconvinced that this was any smarter an idea than losing himself at the bottom of a bottle.

[for one]

Comments

[existencemisspent]

Eliot had so many questions. Unsurprisingly, the one that made it out of his mouth was "The 'Great Cock'?"

[fillorynotfiligree]

“Indeed!”

Barely was the word ‘Cock’ out of Eliot’s mouth or the creature’s magnificent peacock tail unfolded behind it, sliding outwards like a folding fan.

“Cock,” he affirmed. “Have you never beheld one, oh Child of Earth?”

[existencemisspent]

Oh the puns roaring through Eliot's head.

"No, no. . . . I've beheld one or two. But, uh, you are by far the most majestic."

[fillorynotfiligree]

“I’m diligent about hydration,” the Great Cock said, lifting his chin high. “Either way, petitioner, let’s chat.”

Was Eliot even aware he’d petitioned the Great Cock? Oh well.

[existencemisspent]

". . . Sure," Eliot said, matching the Great Cock's chin lift with one of his own. "About what?"

He did not know he was petitioning the Great Cock, no.

[fillorynotfiligree]

“Your upcoming quest,” the Great Cock said with dignity. His tail folded back in on itself. “But first, please.”

He gestured towards the clearing beside them. “Sit.”

[existencemisspent]

"My upcoming . . . quest." Eliot looked around and found a convenient stump, sitting down with as much dignity as one could when talking to a giant, anthropomorphic bird man who insisted on calling himself the "Great Cock". "Did the Fairy Queen send you?"

[fillorynotfiligree]

Eesh. The Great Cock pulled a face. “Tribal matriarchies are the absolute worst,” he said. “No. But several Fillorians have been hunting my sister, the Winter’s Doe, to demand. . . solutions. They’re apparently unaware of how easy it is to get utterly assfucked by a wish-granting.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot winced. He was here, gallivanting around another magical forest, when his kingdom was bankrupt and starving and being controlled by a weird anti-goth shadow government.

"Ah. So you, in your great, benevolent handsomeness, came to find me so I can get assfucked instead?"

By the Great Cock. Well. Fillory was nothing without its epic wordplay.

[fillorynotfiligree]

“I don’t grant wishes, I grant epic quests,” the Great Cock said.

He waved his arm. A tea set sprung up out of the undergrowth, pillows spawned around Eliot and himself, and an elaborate Moroccan hanging lamp descended from a tree branch above.

“The fairies are a minor problem,” he said. “Resolve the grander scheme, and they are nothing.”

[existencemisspent]

"That's . . . ah." Was there a way to regift and epic quest? "Wow, that's great. Thank you." That was a good start. This was a magical creature. Of untold power. The least Eliot could do was be polite.

"It's just," he said, tilting his head. "It really sounds like my people need help. Today."

[fillorynotfiligree]

“Do you want your magic back or not?” the Great Cock returned. “Would it not solve all your problems?”

[existencemisspent]

If magic was back to normal, and they didn't need to count on the fairies and their clearly conditional benevolence anymore?

"I mean, yes, but -- it's just -- how long does a quest like this take?"

[fillorynotfiligree]

The Great Cock thought about it. “A good. . . season,” he said.

[existencemisspent]

So that was next to meaningless.

"Right," Eliot said slowly. "My kingdom is in trouble now."

[fillorynotfiligree]

The Great Cock sighed.

“You are a good king,” he said. He took a few steps forward. “But you must become a great one.”

He sank to one knee in front of Eliot. “In order to do that, you must travel to a land where you are no king, no Magician, just a vulnerable man.”

[existencemisspent]

Oh. This was really definitely happening, wasn't it. Eliot half expected the Great Cock to get hit by a bus and to see Jon peering at him from around a tree. Not that this seemed like a nightmare, necessarily, just because, well. . . .

"Honestly, that sounds like something I might really fuck up."

[fillorynotfiligree]

A taloned hand settled on Eliot’s shoulder. It was supposed to be reassuring.

“Yes, or it wouldn't be a quest. You have friends, don’t you?”

[existencemisspent]

“Um. Theoretically.”

He’d had enough trouble trying to contact Quentin even before he got bounced out of Fillory.

[fillorynotfiligree]

“The one-eyed conqueror,” the Great Cock said, his deep blue eyes staring into Eliot’s. “The traveler. The warrior. The fool. The god-touched. The lover of tomatoes, and the. . . torture artist.”

Those friends.

[existencemisspent]

Eliot was following right along there -- right up until the end.

"Wait, which one is that?"

[fillorynotfiligree]

“Never mind,” said the Great Cock of the Darkling Woods.

It didn’t really matter.

“You have a brother of the heart with the floppy hair.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot smiled faintly at the description.

"That would be Quentin."

[fillorynotfiligree]

“You’re parts of one whole,” the Great Cock said firmly. (If that had any weird implications, he certainly wasn’t concerned with them.) “No one can do this alone.”

[existencemisspent]

"Okay." Eliot's secret romantic heart leaped at those implications, okay? "Um. FYI, I can't contact them or reach them in any way."

[fillorynotfiligree]

Eliot really needed to learn about the power of positive thought. The Great Cock could find him some books once this was over.

“You must find the book with no author. A tale for children, but they’re hardly that,” he exposition. “There is the key. . . or, the keys. . . in a place called. . .” What was it again? The name had been so odd.

Ah, now he remembered. “Public Library,” he continued. “In the shire of Chester. In the land of. . .” Another one of those strange names. What was it, rimed with Schm— “New Jersey.”

[existencemisspent]

"So this is a multiple world kind of deal," Eliot mused to himself. "Because you're Fillorian, but that sure sounds like Earth."

[fillorynotfiligree]

“Eliot,” the Great Cock said urgently, “The Quest I bestow on you is the task you were born for. Claim it!”

[existencemisspent]

". . . Oh." What were you supposed to say to something like that? It felt a bit like there should be a cut scene to some triumphant action or something. Him actually claiming things.

Eliot stood. That was probably a step in the right direction, right?

"Um. Thank you," he said. Then bowed. "Oh Great . . . Cock. I will do my very best."