Fanfiction, Tamora Pierce, was on Archive of Our Own first. Warning that we have characters thinking they and/or other characters have lost their minds due to one character having woken up as a daffodil. I don't own the characters or the universe.
When
Neal woke up, the first thing he noticed was that everything seemed
much larger than usual. He looked around his page quarters.
Everything was bigger, and his perception of color seemed a bit off.
He looked down. Then he fainted.
When
he came too, he looked down again. Sure enough, he seemed to be a
flower of some sort.
He couldn't tell what sort, seeing as his eyes were in what he
presumed to be the bloom, but the shape of his arms suggested that he
may have become a daffodil.
I myself have noticed my growing
resemblance to a daffodil. No.
That had been a joke. He was not supposed to actually turn into a
daffodil. It had to be a dream. It had to.
Experimentally,
he tried to wiggle his toes, or where his toes should be. He felt no
response. Looking down, he saw no response. He seemed to have taken
root in his sheets. He tried to move a whole leg. Still nothing.
Nealan of Queenscove began to panic. Wiggling his fingers was
impossible. Waving his arms was much slower than it should have been,
but there was movement. He could turn his head. He tried to speak. It
was barely audible, but his voice existed. That was something.
Of all the stupid jokes I made, this
has got to be the worst to actually have happen.
There
was no way he could scream loudly enough to be heard with the door
closed. He had to hope that someone would come looking for him, and
soon.
Kel
didn't see her best friend at breakfast. Risking lateness for class,
she ran to the hall where all the pages lived and pounded on his
door. “Neal!” She heard a squeak, barely. She kept pounding. When
more squeaking was the only answer, she tried the door. It opened.
Neal was not in his room, and there was a daffodil
taking root in his bed. She wasn't sure what was going on, but it
wasn't good. Turning to leave and tell the training master that Neal
was missing, she heard more squeaks. They sounded vaguely like words,
and they came from the daffodil.
“Kel?
Can you hear me? It's... it's Neal.” Kel looked at the daffodil
that was claiming to be her best friend, and it continued. “I
myself have noticed my growing resemblance to a daffodil.” She
heard what sounded like nervous laughter. That was Neal, all right.
But he was... a daffodil. That was a problem, and frankly one harder
to solve than trying to keep her fellow pages alive when they were
ambushed by bandits in the hills had been. That was a question that
made sense, even if
the answer was hard to get. This question should have been
impossible.
“Should
I get the Stump?”
“Probably.
And Numair.”
“I'll
be back.”
Wyldon
was easy to find at the training yards. “You're late, Mindelan.”
She
bowed. “Yes, sir. And Neal seems to be a daffodil.”
He
stared at the one female page. “I think we need to get you to the
healers. Clearly the stress of training has taken a toll on you. I've
said it before, that women aren't cut out for this life.”
Kel
bit her lip. That was the most logical assumption for Lord Wyldon to
make, and unfortunately, it was the wrong one. “Please, sir. He
hasn't reported to practice this morning yet. Can you at least come
check his rooms before concluding I've lost my mind? I'm telling you,
Neal seems to be a daffodil.”
“Very
well, Mindelan, if only so that I can attest to the inaccuracy of
your delusion when I drag you to the healers afterwards.” He
followed her to Neal's rooms, then knocked on his door. “Page
Nealan, this is your training master. Open this door at once.”
Only a
faint squeaking was heard. Lord Wyldon knocked again. “If you do
not open this door by the count of ten, I will open it myself.”
“It's
unlocked, sir,” Keladry said.
When
he reached ten, the door remained shut. Entering the room, Wyldon saw
no signs of the Queenscove boy, though there was
a daffodil on his bed. Gods, I've lost my mind too.
Then he heard the squeaking again, coming from the daffodil.
“Yes,
Neal, I brought him. He thought I was insane, though I'm not sure if
he thinks differently now. He might think he's insane too.”
“I
wish you were insane.
If this is a delusion, it's shared.”
Wyldon
swore, something neither Kel nor Neal had heard him do before. “We
either need healers, all of us, or we need Numair.”
“Shall
I get him, sir?” Keladry asked.
“No,
you stay with our... daffodil. I'll get Numair.”
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