Aug. 23, 2016, 7 p.m.
The Land of Stories: A Very Gleeful Threequel: The Lusty Month of May
T - Words: 1,198 - Last Updated: Aug 23, 2016 Story: Complete - Chapters: 19/? - Created: Aug 15, 2015 - Updated: Aug 15, 2015 287 0 0 0 0
Check out this clip of Vanessa Redgrave (who's about to costar with Chris in the Noel Coward biopic) singing “The Lusty Month of May” in the movie version of Camelot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4L-4QuVHHRw
Guess who's visiting me? My beta-reader extraordinaire, whom I met online two years ago when she started commenting on The Land of Stories: Gleefully Ever After. I finally got to meet her in person yesterday. Best thing to come out of this fandom. :D
Following Kurt and Blaine into The Once and Future King, Chris found himself in Camelot. They seemed to have arrived right in the middle of an outdoor celebration of some sort. All around them, people were whirling and dancing and singing:
Its May! Its May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when evryone goes
Blissfully astray
Its here, its here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear
It didn't take long for Kurt and Blaine to get swept up in the revelry. With hands linked, they swung each other around, and then went skipping off together to join the festivities.
Its May! Its May!
That gorgeous holiday
When evry maiden prays that her lad
Will be a cad
Its mad! Its gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that evryone takes,
Evryone breaks
Evryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!
Chris looked around, but he couldn't spot Mother Goose anywhere.
Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?
Whence this perfume floating evrywhere?
Dont you know its that dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la! That dear forbidden fruit!
Tra la la la la! Tra la la la la!
Temporarily abandoning his search, Chris decided to stop resisting temptation and allowed himself to break into song:
Tra la! Its May!
The lusty month of May!
That darling month when evryone throws
Self-control away
Its time to do
A wretched thing or two
And try to make each precious day
One youll always rue
As Chris wound his way through the throng of medieval merrymakers, he noticed that they seemed to be taking the words of the song to heart.
Its May! Its May!
The month of “yes you may”
The time for evry frivolous whim
Proper or “im”
Its wild! Its gay!
Depraved in every way!
The birds and bees with all of their vast
Amorous past
Gaze at the human race aghast
The lusty month of May!
Everywhere he looked, Chris saw men and women in various stages of inebriation and undress coming together in every possible combination of gender and number.
Tra la! Its May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when evryone goes
Blissfully astray
Tra la! Its here!
That shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts
Merrily appear
Chris had to politely but firmly rebuff quite a few ladies and gentlemen who were trying to get a little too handsy with him.
Its May! Its May!
The month of great dismay
When all the world is brimming with fun,
Wholesome or “un”
Its mad! Its gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that evryone takes
Evryone breaks
Evryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!
As the song ended, most of the revelers paired off to pursue their debauchery in the relative privacy of the surrounding woods. Kurt and Blaine were nowhere to be found, and Chris assumed they'd slipped away to engage in their own honeymoon celebration. Mother Goose was likewise missing in action, but Chris didn't want to imagine what she might be getting up to.
Once the giddy excitement of the song was over, Chris experienced a sudden wave of exhaustion. He realized that he hadn't slept properly since Oz. Flying to Neverland with Peter Pan had kept them up all night, and he'd been running on adrenaline and hope ever since. With no immediate threat on the horizon, the adrenaline was fading fast. And with no concrete plan for how he and Darren would be reunited, his hope was fading, too. Weary in body and spirit, Chris lay down on the soft moss beneath an ancient oak tree, and fell asleep.
Chris drempt.
“I have come,” said a deep voice behind him.
In the dream, Chris turned and saw a lion, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy. A terrifying sense of awe rushed over him, and Chris found himself trembling uncontrollably.
“Courage, dear heart,” said the lion. “You have listened to fears, child. Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”
As the lion's breath touched him, Chris felt his fear melting away. Looking around in wonder, he realized that he was in Narnia.
“Aslan, can you tell me how to get back to my own world?” he asked.
“I shall be telling you all the time,” said Aslan. “But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be.”
“So there is a way! Does it have anything to do with what Mother Goose was rambling about while she was smoking the hookah?”
“Child,” said the lion, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”
“My story has gotten so mixed up, I hardly know where I am anymore.”
“When things go wrong, youll find they usually go on getting worse for some time; but when things once start going right they often go on getting better.”
“But when will they start going right?”
“Soon.”
“What do you call soon?”
“I call all times soon,” the lion replied enigmatically. “And now, to business. I feel I am going to roar. You had better put your fingers in your ears.”
Before Chris could do so, however, the dream-lion let out such a mighty roar that it woke him up. He turned his head from side to side, half-expecting to see Narnia, but he was still lying under a tree on the grounds of Camelot. He must have slept through the night, for the birds above him were greeting the dawn with a joyful chorus.
Chris sat up and leaned against the tree. Pulling out his magic mirror, he saw that it was already shimmering, signifying that Darren was trying to contact him. Chris gave the glass a quick tap, and his boyfriend's face appeared.
“Hi, sweetie. I just woke up. Have you been trying to reach me for long?”
“Yeah! I was getting worried. The last I heard, you were heading down the rabbit hole to Wonderland. Is that where you are?”
“No, we're in Camelot on another wild goose chase.”
Darren chuckled. “What's Mother Goose done now?”
“God only knows. Before she led us here she did meet up with the hookah-smoking caterpillar, though. The hashish made her remember something about talking to a stone lion on Westminster Bridge in London. But before I could ask her anything, she took off, and I have no idea where she is.”
“A stone lion, huh? Do you think that's significant?”
“I don't know, but I just had the most vivid dream about a lion. I'm pretty sure it was Aslan from The Chronicles of Narnia. I was trying to get him to tell me how to get home, but he kept speaking in riddles.”
Joey's face popped into the mirror, looking over Darren's shoulder. “Hi, Chris. Hope you don't mind, but I was listening in. I googled ‘stone lion Westminster Bridge' and there's a statue there called the South Bank Lion. Do you think Darren and I should go check it out?”
“Well, it certainly couldn't hurt.”
“Okay. We'll head back to London and let you know what we find out. I'll go check out the train schedule and let you two lovebirds have a minute alone.”
Joey winked at Chris, tousled Darren's hair, and then disappeared.
“He's been teasing me mercilessly,” Darren complained.
“You're not fooling me. You love it.”
“I love anything that reminds me of you.”
“Awww… Stop making me miss you so much.”
“Something tells me we won't be missing each other too much longer. I have a good feeling about this lion…”