The Once and Future Queen
The Literary Adventures of Stella Pendragon
Gibberish: Flash Fiction Friday - Celebritas
April 25, 2025
Scoot’s Assignment: Write a short story about achieving a milestone, including devastating drums, a character who is a celebrity, and the sentence, “Don't say a word.”
Highlighted in FFF (May 9, 2025) 🤗
The Once and Future Queen
“🎶Happy BIRTHDAY, dear Stella! Happy birthday to you!🎶” Birthday parties were always a big deal at Piney Oaks Nursing Home, but not really my cup of tea. But if someone throws a party especially for you, you're kind of obligated to show up.
Seventy-five candles blazed on the cake, as the staff joked about setting off the smoke alarm. “Make a wish, Stella,” somebody yelled. I’d thought about this for a while - I figured that since this was a big milestone and all, I’d go for broke and wish for three more wishes. It wasn’t like I had any chance of extinguishing the confectionery inferno, anyway, and it’s always fun to aim high. I drew in my breath and blew: To my amazement, all seventy-five candles went out!
I don’t remember much about the rest of the party, I was too busy marveling at the miraculous quenching of conflagration and wondering how I would spend my wishes.
An hour later, after we’d all eaten up the cake, and congratulations and thank yous were duly dispensed, we residents dispersed to our own rooms. I loved my room. For the past few years, as my world grew smaller and smaller, my little private sanctuary had become my very favorite place. The walls were lined with bookcases I’d brought along from my old home, stuffed chockablock with books. My books were my oldest and best friends. Some of them had lived with me since my childhood, more than seven decades ago.
As I scanned the shelves, my eyes fell upon my old copy of Mallory's Le Morte D’Arthur, one of my favorite textbooks that remained with me from my long ago university days. “Ah, that’s an idea,” I thought, “Let’s go with meeting a celebrity for my first wish.” No, I did not make a wish to meet Thomas Mallory; I wished to meet my favorite character, Merlin.
At first I thought nothing had happened, until I heard a gentleman clear his throat behind me. “Hwā synd þū?”1 I turned and there stood a man in billowing wizardly robes, sporting a long, wild beard and a gnarled walking stick. He tried again: “Hwæt stōw is ðes?”2
As I regained my senses, I realized my mistake. “Oh dear, Mr. Merlin, I am so sorry! I should have realized that you would be speaking Old English. Wait a sec, give me a moment to think.”
Merlin gave me a hard, long stare and proclaimed, “Ic dōn ne understandan.”3 I did not understand the words, but it was clear he had no idea what I’d just said. But by now I’d figured out what to do.
Recalling the babelfish from Douglas Adam’s Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I immediately used my second wish to conjure up a pair. After allowing Merlin to complete his inspection, I placed one into my own ear, and then offered him the other.
He looked at the tiny fish and then at me before asking "Es du kith?"4
This time I understood, as the babelfish seamlessly translated his speech for me. He’d asked if I were a friend. I smiled and nodded, then held out the second babelfish. Merlin could see that I now understood his language and that my new linguistic powers had been clearly been facilitated by the fish I’d inserted into my ear. He took the fish and placed it in his own ear, and then we settled down to introductions and explanations, followed by a long discussion about how the third wish should be used. You see, he hadn’t gotten a say about his abrupt trip into the future. I could always use my last wish to send him home, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to return. Before deciding, he decided to do some reading for a little inspiration.
The first book he read, Le Morte D’Arthur, convinced him that he most definitely did not want me to wish him home. Things hadn't turned out so well for him by the end of Mallory's version. But where could he go, instead?
“Well, m’Lady, I think perhaps I would like to see what this world has to offer,” he decided. I was worried that his getup might attack too much attention, but he was pretty spry for an ancient wizard, and was up and out before I could get a word in edgewise. He didn’t get far, though.
Merlin was back within the hour, completely exasperated. He complained of the “plague of gawkers” who’d followed him around, pointing “mysterious small, flat boxes” at him. He was especially annoyed that so few knew his true identity. “Who is this Dumbledore? Who it is Gandolf? I was greeted most strangely by the throngs of mortals.”
I explained, “They are characters in books, both of whom were probably based on you,” which mollified him a bit. But I was a little worried about those “flat boxes.” I pulled out my own cell phone. “Is this like the things the gawkers were pointing at you?” At his affirmative, I checked to see if anyone had posted any photos or video footage of my new friend. “Well, Mr. Merlin, you seem to have made quite an impression. You’ve gone viral!”
At this point, Merlin had become completely disenchanted with my world. We were discussing his other options when we heard tapping on the window pane. A crow was perched on the ledge, apparently listening to us. Merlin held up his hand, demanding, “Hush, don’t say a word.” When I protested that it was just an old crow, he held his finger to his lips and walked carefully to the window. He reached out and swiftly grabbed hold of the bird, but she escaped, leaving a single feather behind in his hand. I watched, amazed, as it slowly transformed into a scrap of blood red velvet.
Merlin shook his head. “It is as I feared. That crow is really my former lover and nemesis, Nimue, in disguise. She thought she’d killed me back in Arthur’s time, but she continued to live for the past many eons. She must have found me through the viral boxes. We must make haste, I must depart for a new magical realm before she retuns with her murderous flock,” he explained. “Where do you suggest I go?”
I thought a few minutes and then fetched my copy of C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Merlin sat down and read it swiftly. As he closed the book, he glanced down at the inscription on the faceplate. “Stella Pendragon. This is you?” He murmured, “The once and future Queen.”
“I have decided. Send me to Narnia.” But he paused before continuing, “You should know that you are a Pendragon and therefore more than mortal. If you become my apprentice, I can promise you a long, interesting life, full of learning.”
Nodding, I promised, “I will go with you. This world has become too loud and too dreary. Everyone I love has long been dead. There is nothing left for me here.”
That was when the sky began to darken, as thousands of crows filled the sky, all headed for my window.
“It is time for us to go, m’Lady,” he said as he took my hand. Grinning wryly, he added, “Perhaps you can request more wishes on your hundredth birthday.”
I made my final wish and a wardrobe appeared. We heard the devastating drumming of many wings, but it troubled us not. By the time Nimue and her feathered minions break their way through the glass, Merlin and the Once and Future Queen will be long gone, having escaped through the wardrobe to find new adventures in Narnia.
“Who are you?”
“What place is this?”
“I do not understand.”
“Are you a friend?”
Most excellent!
*Air guitar solo*
All the favorite fantasies combined. Older and Middle English are so much closer to German than most people realize. That 1066 Norman Conquest made a mess of the language!