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“When you were a rat, were you...aware of it?”
Idri, King of Loria and alive once again since yesterday, is not sure how to respond to this question. For one, so much time has passed--centuries, technically, and then apparently no more than a handful, Because Fillory--and for another: what?
Perhaps Eliot can sense his confusion, because he sighs and continues. “Do you remember if you knew you were still a gorgeous king with a buttery smooth voice or if you just thought...rat thoughts?”
He looks slightly pained at even speaking the words, which is fair.
“I must admit I don’t have a very clear memory of that time,” Idri says. “But I don’t think there were a lot of human thoughts.”
Now Eliot looks frustrated, which seems like an odd response. This entire thing is odd--for one thing, this is literally the first time Idri’s even seen Eliot since...arriving, and there’s been none of the usual flirtatious asides or suggestive once-overs. A lot has changed, obviously, and it’s not clear if it’s been for the better or not. Eliot looks good, of course, he always has; but he also looks older. Worn in a way that suggests more heartache, more fighting his way through these past...decades? than Idri would’ve expected. Also, his hair is longer.
He mentions none of this. Instead, he’s as calm as ever when he asks, “was that not the answer you were hoping for?”
“Not really,” Eliot says honestly, giving a humorless chuckle and finally sitting next to Idri instead of standing in the middle of the room. It’s only now that Idri notices he’s holding something small and half-hidden in his hands.
Jokingly, Idri asks, “did someone else turn into a rat and you wanted to have me try talking to them?”
Not jokingly even a little bit, Eliot replies, “a frog, actually,” and--
Holds up a frog.
It has eyebrows.
And a very unimpressed expression.
It gives a ribbit.
To his credit, Idri simply raises an eyebrow of his own. Obviously this isn’t a normal Fillorian frog, or else Eliot wouldn’t be asking him about such things.
“It’s Quentin,” Eliot volunteers. The frog--Quentin, whom Idri has only heard about and never met--gives a sigh that jerks his entire tiny body. “He’s very...aware of who he is. I was curious if that was a...normal-ish thing for turning into animals, but apparently not. It’s fine.”
It doesn’t seem extremely fine, but who is Idri to say?
Eliot goes quiet then, and Idri watches as he strokes one finger over the frog’s little head. Quentin’s eyes blink shut; who knew a frog could ever look so content? Eliot...looks so very fond of the small creature that sits patiently in his hands.
“How long has he been like this?”
“A few months.” All right, Eliot doesn’t seem concerned enough now, in Idri’s opinion. Perhaps it’s reluctant acceptance, but he sounds more like he’s discussing the weather. At Idri’s expression, he adds, “it’s not all bad. He uses a tablet to communicate with us.”
He doesn’t bother explaining what a tablet is in this context, and Idri doesn’t ask.
After another moment, Eliot says, nearly under his breath like he half-doesn’t want Idri to hear, “and he’s alive.”
And, well. That pretty much answers any questions Idri may have had, doesn’t it.
He politely pretends not to notice the soppy smile on Eliot’s face when the frog gives his hand a little pat and rubs his tiny head against Eliot’s fingers. The spell gets broken (no, not that one) by Idri standing abruptly.
“All right,” he says, Official Kingly Tone and all. “Let’s find a way to break whatever curse or spell’s been put on him. Loria’s resources are yours.”
The twin looks of surprise on Eliot and the frog’s faces are amusing, but it doesn’t take long for Eliot to fall into step beside Idri, expressing his gratitude with more vulnerability than he might’ve, years before. It almost stops Idri from teasing, “you seem to have rotten luck when it comes to your would-be lovers and the animal kingdom.”
Eliot stumbles through a step.
Frog Quentin’s ribbit sounds strangely laugh-like.
Idri grins; not a bad welcome back at all.