Granny Smith and the not so sweet Saccharine

“Yeah…” Red sighed sheepishly, her uncomfortable demeanour juxtaposing John’s awe. “But I promise you I’m not a loaded arse.”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” John smiled back much to Red’s relief.

They followed a tidy gravel path across the lawn and arrived at a pair of wooden doors.

“Look, I need to be frank with you,” Red turned to say. She looked visibly agitated, and she absentmindedly played with her fingers as she thought of words to say. “My family and I… we’re not human. We’re actually what you’d call a Warg, kind of like a werewolf except it’s not a curse and our bites aren’t contagious.”

“Okay,” John replied. Of course he already knew she was a Warg thanks to Observe, but the clarity on what exactly that entailed was much appreciated.

“That doesn’t shock you? Scare you even?” Red asked confused.

“I’ve learned stranger things these past few days,” John shrugged, and Red’s shoulders relaxed.

“Well, I should also warn you… my Gran’s appearance may… shock you,” Red told him as she opened the front doors. “She’s got a skin condition, okay? So try not to be a rude arse.”

“Have I done anything that would make you think I’m a rude ‘arse’?" John teasingly put emphasis on her vaguely British sounding accent.

“Well…” Red hummed, having resumed her usual coy demeanour. “I suppose you’ve been adequately charming so far.”

After a quick poke of her tongue, Red grabbed him by the wrist and led him inside. The interior of the house was what you’d expect in a Victorian manor. A large, ruby coloured rug lay centrally on the floor, and ornate, mahogany furniture lined the sides of the well lit room. Along the blue painted walls were portraits of various members of the Perrault family, including a portrait of Red, who looked about eight years old in the picture.

“How cute,” John remarked, recognising the same sweet smile that Red had shown him many times already.

Red flushed with embarrassment, and her pace down the hall quickened as she led John away from the portrait.

“So how many people live here?” John asked, looking around the large mansion.

“There’s about six of us,” Red said, before her voice dipped to a bitter tone. “Though the number changes depending on how many pets pa’s keeping at the time.”

That was all Red was willing to say on the topic. They paused at a staircase leading to the second floor, and John noticed Red sniffing the air. Then suddenly John was being yanked along again as Red marched forward like a girl possessed by her nose. Ignoring a staircase, Red instead steered them a little further down the hall and to the left where they entered the dining room. A mixture of delightful smells tickled John’s nose as he stepped into the room, leaking from the nearby kitchen. Among them, John could identify the smell of baking pastries as well as something fruity.

“Hello, Gran!” Red called in advance before she stepped into the kitchen with John in tow.

An elderly lady wearing a pink apron over her baby blue blouse was busily tending to a tray of pastries fresh out of the oven. Upon hearing her granddaughter, however, she turned and gave a wolfish smile.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ John bit the inside of his cheek before he could voice the exclamation. ‘Skin condition’ was a light way of putting what her grandmother had. A thin coat of light grey fur covered what John imagined would be the entirety of the old lady’s body. The bones in her face were oddly constructed so as to give the woman a snout instead of a nose, and John could see a row of sharp fangs on the inside of her lip.

The wolf in an old lady’s clothes shuffled over to them, her eyes curiously examining John while she wrapped Red in a tight embrace. If it wasn’t for Red’s timely warning, John might’ve been alarmed. Instead he merely tried to keep a straight face and cast Observe.

Before John could close the Observe window, a small head burst through the black and gold screen. Startled, John took a step backwards and recast Observe on the tiny creature the head belonged to.

The ‘Dessert Fairy’ was the cutest thing John had ever seen. She floated in the air on insect-like wings so that she could stare at him on eye level with her large, rose coloured irises. The dress she wore even looked like a baked pastry and complemented her long caramel hair. John just wanted to reach out and gently pinch the adorable fairy’s cheeks, right up until she opened her mouth.

“Who the fuck is this cunt?” the small girl asked, pointing directly at John.

Her accent reminded John of an Australian for some reason.

“Language!” Granny Smith snapped her fangs. “I will not abide by rudeness in this household, especially towards guests.”

The fairy huffed and adopted a tone of mock courtesy. “Might I ask who this is?”

“This is John, Saccha,” Red told the Dessert Fairy. “He’s a worlder.”

The Fairy slowly flew around John. John could hear the soft buzz of her wings, and she smelled faintly of apples. “He doesn’t look like much,” she hummed.

“I’m right here!” John said irritably, now tempted to swat the Fairy.

Saccharine looked at him funnily. “Of course you are, you knobhead. Why wouldn’t you be?”

John growled in frustration while Red laughed and Granny Smith sighed in exasperation.

“What did I say about language, missy?” the old lady said, waving a wood spoon at the fairy, before turning to John.

“Hello, John, I’m Charlene’s grandmother. It’s a pleasure to meet you, though I do hope my appearance hasn’t frightened you,” the old woman rambled.

“Not at all,” John said quickly, putting on his best ‘charming’ smile.

“Ooh, he’s a polite one, isn’t he?” Granny Smith said with a small chuckle as she cast a sideways glance to Red. “Oh but where are my manners? Would you like something to eat? Or to drink? I’m just about done with a batch of pastries, do help yourself!”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Red cut in, swiping a fresh danish from the tray and wolfing it down in one breath. “But while we’re on the topic… I was hoping you could bake us an apple pie,” Red asked while licking some stray crumbs from her lips.

“Oh, of course my dear!” Gran agreed. “What might be the occasion?”

“The Black Knight wanted one,” Red explained.

“Oh I see, planning on exploring the Depths are we? Blimey, I remember the day that great hole opened in the ground… what a shock it was.”

“Wait, so it wasn’t always there?” John wondered.

The lover of lore that he was, John was particularly curious to find out about the history of the thousand floor dungeon.

“Not at all, sweetie,” Granny Smith replied. “In fact this entire region looked nothing like it does today.”

“What do you mean?” John asked.

“Ah, it’s a complicated tale,” Granny Smith replied. “Would you indulge me with a cup of tea and some danish while we wait for your pie to bake?”

“I’d love to,” John answered, truthfully. “But if it’s not too much to ask, I also need some berries and a bowl of ice cream,” John added, remembering the bonus objectives of his quest.

“Sure,” the fairy named Saccharine pouted. “And why don’t you ask for it to be served in a three course meal while you’re at it?”

John was about to reply, but Red interjected. “Aww, don’t be like that,” she fluttered her eyelashes. “Won’t you at least do it for me?”

Saccharine crossed her arms and pouted for a long moment. “Fine…”