Fraggle Rock: Elder Clan Adventures

Author’s Note: I don’t own Fraggles, not even this story, which is based on Red’s favorite adventure series, The Elder Clan Adventures. First mentioned in Cave of One’s Own (though the Princess’s name was slightly different than subsequent mentions), it’s also mentioned in Red’s Blue Dragon and the costume at least is seen in Ring Around the Rock. I’ll try REAL hard not to have original characters … hopefully I can dig up enough ancient Fraggles to flesh out the story.

Prologue

The Princess brushed her long blonde hair, noting with satisfaction the bright red highlights that accentuated her dark golden fur. She stared at the mirror.

“You seem awfully content this morning,” said the mirror, which was topped with an enchanted bronze face and spoke with a prim and proper female voice.

The Princess nodded, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “I just can’t wait to get started today!” she exclaimed with a large grin. “I’ll crack that blue rock if it’s the last thing I do.”

“But it could take days to get there!” the mirror protested. “Who will polish me?”

“Oh, Crooner is supposed to stop by today. I’ll ask him.”

The mirror lowered her eyelids and stared at the Princess in disbelief. “You’d ask a sacred Minstrel to take care of me?”

“Well,” the Princess replied with a little hesitation, “he said he wanted to help.” The Princess placed a silvery metal helmet on her head and draped herself in a magical dark blue cape. She turned to the mirror that was roughly a foot-and-a-half taller than she was, and she was only two-and-a-half feet tall. “Well, what do you think?”

“I can see you,” the mirror replied dryly.

The Princess moaned. “I know you can see me, you know. I’m not trying to be invisible yet!”

The mirror sighed. “Well, good luck, Gwen,” she said sadly.

The Princess’s face drooped in sadness, her long golden tail drooping. She patted the mirror on the back. “I’ll be back … don’t worry!” She smiled just as she approached the door to her cave. She turned and smiled, her tail flicking up and down. “I don’t fear anything! I’m a shoe-in to crack the blue rock!”

Princess Gwen scampered down the long tunnels, dodging left and right, flicking away spiderflies with a long stick she just happened upon. She started to sing a rousing marching song, praising herself for all her exploits, such as leading the Fraggles away from the Great Hall when a massive explosion blew a huge hole at the top of the ceiling and that day she made a peace treaty with the King of the Doozers, who hadn’t been a Doozer at all, but a small rodent-like creature with a smart mouth.

She passed some Doozers, little green creatures only six inches high, carving blocks out of a pile of gray mushrooms. Sometimes it frustrated Fraggles to see Doozers chip away at their dietary staple, but Princess Gwen had made a peace treaty after all. Doozers would keep Fraggles informed of any dangers that may escape a Fraggle’s notice in return for being allowed to carve mushroom blocks.

“Hey! Wait up!” cried a tiny voice from behind.

Princess Gwen stopped and looked down. A tiny male Doozer huffed and puffed, tiny beads around his neck chinking in rhythm. “How can I help you, Little Doozer?”

“We found burning fur this morning over by the Crystal Cavern,” he replied wearily as he bent over to catch his breath. “It’s the strangest thing … the stuff doesn’t even burn.”

“I thought you just said --.”

The tiny Doozer shook his head. “It’s on fire, but isn’t turning to ash like everything else does.” He paused. “It’s weird.” He reared back his head to see the Fraggle’s face. “I just thought you might want to check it out, uh, Princess Gwenalot?”

The Fraggle Princess smirked. “It’s Gwenelyn … but I think I might just like your version better,” she told him politely. She patted him on the head before racing off. “Thanks a lot!” she yelled as she disappeared through a tunnel.

The Doozer stared in the direction she went and shrugged. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell her where it was.”

Soon Princess Gwen (or Gwenalot, as she had decided to call herself on her new adventure) found a small group of Fraggles weaving. They muttered and mumbled and tried to avoid eye contact. Princess Gwenalot stood there motionless, save for tapping her foot expectantly. She cleared her throat.

One Fraggle lifted a small cap from her head and the Princess saw that she was bald. The female Fraggle, pink with small bone earrings adorning the sides of her face, spoke softly. “The Rock will stop soon. We have to make hats so we don’t freeze.”

Princess Gwenalot nodded and leaned closer, noting that the group scooted away from her slightly. “Is there, um, anything I can do to help?”

The bald Fraggles with caps looked at each other and shook their heads. “You have hair, you wouldn’t understand.”

Princess Gwenalot frowned and placed her hands huffily on her hips. “What is that supposed to mean? Just because I have hair doesn’t mean I don’t care about hairless Fraggles.”

Another golden Fraggle piped up. “My brother Fishface says the Fraggles with hair are spoiled and lazy.”

“Yeah, and they just go off on adventures and leave the rest of us to freeze,” said another Fraggle.

“What?” Princess Gwenalot shrieked. “We’re not lazy! How dare this Fishface Fraggle say such ugly things about us? We’re all just the same!”

“Says a Princess,” muttered Fishface’s sister bitterly.

Princess Gwenalot growled in fury and stomped off, leaving behind a bunch of self-absorbed, muttering Fraggles. After a couple of hours had passed and after eating some ripe mushmellons with mushrooms on the side, Princess Gwenalot flopped down next a bubbling stream and threw a pebble into it in frustration. “It’s not bad to be a Princess,” she whimpered.

*hee* We think a lot alike, I was just thinking of doing an Elder Clan Adventures..thing (someday), in fact, All Hallows is tied to my ideas on that time. Although, my version is a lot more Camelot-y..
It's interesting that you put them so far back in time to where fraggles were still hair less, I thought that was more like the fraggle stone ages than middle ages . But anyway, I will be reading :3.

(And who ever said making up your own characters was a bad thing if the story needs it? I mean, when you only have one or two characters that are canon in that time period there really is no danger of the OCs taking over, since without them to interact with the main character there would not be much of a story, would there ?)

I think the Elder Clan is a lot like our human stories of Robin Hood, there is no one true right way to write them, as the stories are suppose to be so old...
*waits*

The goal is to have 37 chapters, since Red mentions she's read 37 books in the series.

I was SO afraid that I had stepped on your toes, Redsonga, but I tried looking everywhere for hints that you were on that subject. I knew you wanted to do something maybe with the Fraggle Wars, but I'm going to try real hard not to swipe anything from you. I put them back so far because I thought you might make it a wee bit more recent (you prefer Middle Ages for the Stone Age for this plot, etc). If you've read The Baby Fraggle or The Weapon, then you've seen two one-shots that sort of evolved into this (though those two fics will stay in my "universe", as it were, they're not really necessary to read ... but I don't want this to conflict with anything I've written so far). Also, I'm going to play with a lot of thoughts I've had about various incidents mentioned or alluded to in the show, including the relationship between the Cave and the Rock.

Dah, it's okay . I mean being as we are so different our fics are bound to be really different to . And like King Arthur and Robin Hood to us I'm sure the fraggles have more than one version of the Elder Clan to...Just how there are King Arthur and His Knights, The Sword In The Stone, Merlin, The Mists of Avalon etc... I'll probably call it The Golden Apple Chronicles or something .

Oh, about the Fraggle Wars, I was never going to write about them so much as hint at them in Everything Seems To Sing. I really dislike war and don't like writing about it in any great detail...

Well, I for one get a kick out of Red reading from that story about the Blue Dragon in A Cave of One's Own. My fic will attempt to match her ... zeal ... for drama and action.

*lol* Was that a hint?
Anyway...Nooo, Troy can stay right where it is . I heard so much about it since my ma's name is Helen I just could not write it over again. But I am all for writing Red's zeal..it's not that different from mine ...and dragon slaying is not the same as war

Chapter 1

Princess Gwenalot awoke from her nap, stretching and knocking over her metal helmet with a clang, making some random critters skitter away. She looked around and gasped as she saw a cloud of mist in the air. She jumped up and it appeared again, right in front of her face. She rubbed her eyes and realized that it was her breath fogging in the cold tunnel.

She looked around for some mushrooms to eat, but she soon heard strumming of some stringed instrument farther down in the tunnel. The Princess wrapped herself in her cape, plopped her helmet on her head, and walked down the tunnel to see the source off the music.

In a rather large cave, a lone Fraggle with slicked-back black hair and blue-green skin sat on a large boulder, balancing precariously on a pillar of loose rocks. He had a rough deep voice as he :

Well, if your baby leaves you,
and you got a tale to tell.
Just take a walk down lonely street
to Heartbreak Hotel.

You’ll be so lonely baby,
your gonna be lonely,
you’ll be so lonely you could die.
Oh although it's always crowded,
you still can find some room.
For broken hearted lovers to cry away their gloom.
They've been so lonely baby, well they're so lonely,
they're so lonely they could die….

Princess Gwenalot tightened the cape around her as she approached the singer. She looked up, her voice still rather dazed from sleeping for so long. “Crooner? What are you doing here?”

Crooner’s face brightened and he leapt off the boulder, nearly making it crash to the cave floor. He dusted himself off and smiled as widely as he could. “Gwenelyn!”

“Gwenalot.”

Crooner tilted his head in confusion. He smiled again though and patted her strongly on her back. “Hey, you know what, Baby? If you’re goin’ undercover, you gotta come up with a better alias than that.” He walked over to a flowing white robe that was sparkling with glitter. He winked at her. “I heard you were comin’ over to Blue Rock. I wanted to help you out before you got there.”

“Thanks, but --.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head, “don’t thank me! That Rock will make you see what you fear most – and I already know what you fear most, baby girl.”

Princess Gwenalot sighed and rubbed her snout in frustration. Her voice sounded resigned, “I thought a sacred Minstrel would keep his mind on singing.”

Crooner chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, gently blowing her hair from her face. He told her softly, with a smirk, “Now you know song-writin’ is more effective when you’ve experienced it firsthand….”

She pushed him away and kicked a pebble, keeping her eyes downcast. “Then get used to singing that song you just sung,” she retorted, frowning. “I’m a Princess. You’re a sacred Minstrel --.”

“There’s sacredness all around us, Gwen … alot,” he replied with a hurt, quiet tone. “I don’t intend to just sing about life … I want to enjoy it, too.” He sadly plucked some strings of his guitar and sighed, keeping his eyes downcast. “You make me happy each time I see you.” He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. “In fact, you’re the reason my heart can sing.”

Princess Gwenalot looked away, biting her lip. She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I know, I know,” she replied sadly, nodding. “I’m your inspiration and your glory.” She finally found the courage to glance at the Minstrel. “Still, I take my job seriously. You should take yours seriously, too.” Before he could respond, she held her hand up. “Please, Crooner, I told my magic mirror you’d go help her while I’m on my journey. If you need to give companionship to anyone, give it to her … she actually is lonely.”

Crooner looked on as his Princess walked away, not looking back. “Ouch,” he whispered to himself.

Author’s Note: The good news is, I’ve already plotted out all 37 chapters in brief abstracts. The bad news is, I’ll be lucky to update once a week, at least until this semester is over. I’ll try to catch up on Thanksgiving break. And although it seems like I’m playing with continuity (well, I am, but still…), if you recall, Fraggles who had hair was banished (“better bald than banished!”) … so Gwenalot and other Fraggles can still have hair while Fishface is around.

Crooner is the first OC I've done in awhile (not counting the Minstrel in Comeback, since he's only barely mentioned). I didn't want him to be Cantus with a different name. Crooner is more of a cross between Cantus and Convincing ... aaaaahhhh, well, look at the time!

Chapter 2

Princess Gwenalot groaned. Her subjects had started to see the way Crooner, the sacred Minstrel, wandered the whole of Fraggle Rock … but somehow always managed to spend time with the Princess every week.

It’s not that she didn’t like him that way, because he could really be fun to be around … it was just … that …

… she had … things … to do.

Fraggle Rock sprawled on for ages and it was her job to protect Fraggles from danger. It left her on the “road” a lot, without a lot of time to worry about ….

At any rate, she found herself at a crossroads. To the left lay the great blue rock that tempted any Fraggle worth her mushrooms. The Old Ones said it was necessary to crack it in order to prove their worth as leader of the Fraggles. Princess Gwenalot was already leader, but she wanted to know for herself where her destiny lay.

However, to the right lay that burning piece of fur that the Doozer told her about. Fire was dangerous in Fraggle Rock: in some parts of the Rock, an errant flame could quickly lead to a Rockslide and a painfully loud noise. Her father had told her of Boom Canyon, a place where it was absolutely forbidden to camp overnight. He said over fifty Fraggles had disappeared while the Rock heard an earth-shattering “boom”.

As she stared first into one tunnel and then into the other, she heard someone approaching her from the right. She hid in a corner and wrapped her invisibility cape around her. A bright blue Fraggle with a red cap and a brown robe appeared, apparently lost in thought, as he read a piece of paper with such small eyes Princess Gwenalot couldn’t really see them. As he got closer, mumbling to himself about diameters and force and gravity, he accidentally stepped on Princess Gwenalot’s tail.

“Ouch!” she yipped, jumping a couple of feet off the ground. She growled as she cradled her tail in her arms.

The male Fraggle screamed and jumped back in one hop to the other side of the cave, trembling. “S-sorry!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t see you sitting there! Please forgive me, oh Princess Gwenelyn!”

“Gwenalot,” she replied.

The male Fraggle’s voice changed from booming to timid. He cocked his head to one side, the trembling stopping as he tried to hide the piece of paper behind him. “You changed your name?” he asked, confused. “Why?”

The Princess shrugged and stared at the floor, letting her sore tail fall back down. “I just like the way it sounds better, that’s all.”

The male Fraggle shook his head. “You hairy Fraggles are really weird,” he told her. “You not only have names that have nothing to do with either your looks or your jobs … you also just randomly change them at your slightest whim.”

The Princess frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Well, smarty-robes, what’s your name?”

He patted himself on the chest. “Roughchin. I use a stone for a pillow, so it leaves my chin, well, rough.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied in disbelief. “You think you’re so smart, what about Crooner? His name is like his job … and he has hair. I guess you shouldn’t be so quick to judge other Fraggles, huh?”

Roughchin shrugged. “He’s a sacred Minstrel. He’s bound to have more sense than the average hairy Fraggle.”

“Oooooooo,” Princess Gwenalot growled, practically steaming. She could feel her heartbeat all the way up behind her eyes. “Why are you walking around out here?” she barked, trying to change the subject. “Don’t you know there’s some burning fur out here that doesn’t go out?”

Roughchin cleared his throat and tried to inch away from the approaching Princess. “Ah, um, you see, uh ….”

Princess Gwenalot sighed and shook her head. Her voice softened as well. “Don’t let me catch you around here again, at least until I get this mystery solved. Got it?”

Roughchin nervously nodded. “Y-yes, of course, Princess Gwen-a-pick-a-suffix.” He ran off in the opposite direction.

“It’s Gwenalot!” she screeched.

As she headed down the right tunnel, the tunnel began to grow more humid, while thick roots ran this way and that and a glittery light glowed stronger and stronger. As she approached what looked like a dead end, it started getting rather warm, which was strange considering how close the Rock was to the Great Rock Freeze. She gulped and spied a lone clump of red fur, with a small flame licking at its edges. There was no smoke and the fur wasn’t consumed either. There was also something else … a little round cream-colored rollie, damp from the humid air. She cautiously placed her invisibility cape down so it wouldn’t catch fire and approached on tiptoe, her tail waving back and forth behind her for balance. She hunched down and reached for the little rollie.

It turned suddenly on its own to reveal an iris. The flame beside it gave it an eerie orange glow.

Princess Gwenalot shrieked in surprise. “Great Piles of Doozer Dust! It’s an – mmphrrmm!” A hand grabbed her snout and as she fainted, she heard cackling laughter.

LOL ... this is "the crossover that isn't". It's also going to be real short and wrapped up. Each arc will only be about 4 chapters each.

Would you like a "helping hand"?

Chapter 3

Princess Gwenalot still floated in darkness, though now she could hear fluttering wings and tiny female voices….

“Why do we have to do this by ourselves?” one voice whispered angrily. “Where’s Hanna?”

A clinking sound and the sound of scratching on paper followed. “She said something about finding a gig making shoes or something.”

A long pause followed and then the first voice said, “Well, at least we’re not stuck doing that.”

The two voices giggled for several moments.

Princess Gwenalot opened her eyes, thick and heavy as they felt, and the blurry image of a large room covered in stucco appeared. She didn’t move as she glanced around at the ceiling: there were cobwebs and spiders and tiny lizards skittering in and out of cracks in the wall. She found the strength to lift her head and she saw dozens of strange objects, all made out of metal. Some were round like rollies, though a lot larger (almost Fraggle-sized), and some were very pointy. She recognized some … they were called “swords”. She used to pretend having one when she was little, using a branch and waving it around in her parents’ room.

She groaned as she sat up, and heard buzzing around her ears. She swatted.

“Hey, watch it, furball!” the two voices screamed.

Princess Gwenalot looked around and spotted two strange dragonfly-like creatures with smooth pale skin and silvery long hair, wearing what looked like leaf remnants. They weren’t insects, though … she didn’t know what they were.

“Are you just going to sit on that pile of armor all day, or are you going to get up off your big furry butt and let us do our job?” taunted one, with her hand on her hip, her wings flittering madly.

“I don’t have a big furry butt,” Princess Gwenalot protested. “I’m very petite among the Fraggles. I don’t have an ounce of fat on me!”

The other creature smirked. “You look like a big fat waste of fur to us.”

Princess Gwenalot stood angrily, pumping her fist as her tail started to flicker about. “You aren’t very nice!”

The first creature stuck out her tongue. “Who ever told you fairies were nice?” she replied, laughing. “Stupid little furb--.” The fairy stopped mocking the newcomer when the newcomer grabbed her in her hand and squeezed slightly.

Princess Gwenalot grinned with a devilish grin. “I’m smart enough to know that you little things can be swatted like the weird bugs you are,” she coldly informed them. “Now, how do I get back to Fraggle Rock?”

The other fairy flew at Princess Gwenalot’s hair, pulling and tugging. “Let my sister go!”

Princess Gwenalot casually flicked the nagging fairy away, sending her sprawling into a pile of swords that fell down with a raucous clanging. She glared at the one fairy she had captured. “Fraggle Rock?” she asked again with one eyelid drooping down halfway.

The fairy stopped struggling and sighed. “If you’ve got a thing for rocks, we really can’t help you,” she replied wearily. She looked up pleadingly. “Please let me go … we’ve got only ‘til one o’clock this afternoon to finish up our inventory for all these weapons.”

“Why do you need all these ‘weapons’?” the Princess asked.

The fairy shook her head. “I really don’t know. You have no idea what it’s like to live only to serve a ruler who’s stronger than you. We’ll be severely punished if you don’t let us finish.” She tried to free herself once more. “Please! These aren’t even for us!”

Princess Gwenalot let her go and the fairy flew over to her bruised and groaning sister. She watched them flick their wings once or twice as one tended the other, happy to be free from the Fraggle grip. “So, who knows how to get me back to Fraggle Rock?”

The bruised fairy looked up at the Fraggle and pointed to the door to the room, which was only twice the Princess’ size. “Go out that door and head south until you reach a gate. Sometimes around noon you’ll see a big fat hairy animal with horns and long ears snoozing right in front of the gate until he’s chased off. If you get to him before then, he can help you.”

Princess Gwenalot picked up a short sword that looked almost new and was easy for a Fraggle to carry. She picked up another one and grunted as she opened the door. She stopped and turned to look at the tired fairies. “I really am sorry that I had to be mean to you, uh, ‘fairies’,” she told them submissively. “You could have avoided all that if you had just been nice to me.” She left and gently closed the door behind her.

Chapter 4

Princess Gwenalot ran straight back to her cave and flopped melodramatically into bed, wrapping herself in her covers.

Her mirror looked on in concern. “Princess Gwen, are you alright? Did you crack that blue rock?"

Princess Gwenalot replied in a muffled voice, “I haven’t been yet.”

The mirror nodded as best she could. “Ah, so you were afraid to go there, huh?"

The Princess threw off her covers and glared teary-eyed at her mirror. “I was not afraid! I was Fragglenapped! I woke up in this strange room with all these ‘weapons’ and little bug things called ‘fairies’ and I had to ask for help from some huge mountain of fur who bellowed and made this great big boulder jump out of the way and --.”

“Whoa, hang on," the mirror interjected, “I can’t keep up with all this excitement!"

“And I had to live it – can you imagine?" the Princess screamed. She buried her face in her pillow and muffled, “I’m going to just stay in my room until I grow gray!"

“Figures … hairy Fraggle only want to stay in bed," a rough male voice taunted.

The Princess looked up. A green Fraggle stood in front of her mirror, his yellow rectangular earrings dangling from each side of his head out from under his large brown cap. His arms were crossed, his tail wagging slowly back and forth. His face wore a permanent droll expression. She sat back up and nodded, rubbing her snout.

“Does Princess dare to wembley in front of her subject?" he asked incredulously.

“I’m not scratching my nose … I’m wiping away some dust, is all," she replied. She stood and dusted herself off some more. “How can I help you?"

“I am Fishface of the Cave of the Great Hole," he told her.

“You mean the Great Hall?"

“No, that is what hairy Fraggle say when they disrespect local tongue," he grunted. “I hear Princess looks to crack the blue rock. I come to mock your failure.”

Princess Gwenalot sighed slightly. “I didn’t fail, Fishface. I just haven’t been yet.”

“So, Princess is not coward … Princess is just lazy," he said with a satisfied smirk.

“I am not lazy," she scowled. “You’re one to talk, you know … all you want to do is sit on your tail all day and boss Fraggles around.”

“That what real leader do," Fishface retorted. “If Princess studied the Legendary Rum-poop more often instead of dancing and laughing and playing with sacred minstrels, she would know of importance of being leader.”

The Princess’s throat tightened, as well as her fist. “How dare you imply that me an’ Crooner --?"

“Imply nothing," Fishface told her. “Only blind Fraggle not see what goes on around here.” He grinned darkly. “Even then – sacred Minstrel sings about it everywhere he goes.”

The Princess gasped. Her knees felt weak. “What does he say?" she whispered.

Fishface laughed. “True Leader would know these things," he replied as he turned to leave. “Princess should crack the blue rock before the Great Freeze … or someone else might be leader soon.” He continued to laugh as he walked out of her cave and the Princess caught him glancing momentarily at the two swords by the exit.

The mirror stared in the direction of the exit for a few moments and glanced back at Gwen. “It only takes one guess to figure out who he thinks should be leader.”

Princess Gwenalot slumped down beside her bed, still stunned at the revelation that Crooner was bragging about a relationship that she felt was all in his mind. She nodded slightly. “But he doesn’t do anything," she whispered.

“Crooner, or Fishface?" asked the mirror sympathetically.

The Princess buried her head in her hands. “What does it matter?" she mumbled. Suddenly, she looked up, wild-eyed.

“What is it?"

She slapped herself on the forehead. “I left my invisibility cape in that stupid tunnel!"

Chapter 5

Princess Gwenalot sat in front of her magic mirror, stroking her tail sadly.

“I’m sure you’ll find your cape again, Gwen,” the mirror encouraged her.

“Oh, it’s not that,” she replied. She hesitated for several moments before speaking. “I just … I just think that … well,” she continued, shrugging mindlessly, “some Fraggles are mad at me. I don’t know why.” She looked up at her mirror. “What do you think?”

The mirror bit her lip. “Well,” she answered softly, “I’m not qualified to tell you what’s going to happen. That is really more of a talent that belongs to my sister, Mavis. I can just be your friend, Gwen. I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Princess Gwenalot looked at her mirror strangely. “But … I didn’t ask what the future holds. I asked whether or not you think the other Fraggles are mad at me.”

The mirror smiled. “You asked me what I thought, Gwen, and I told you. Now that your request is a bit more specific, I can tell you that some Fraggles don’t like you … but a lot of Fraggles do.”

“But why don’t they like me? All I care about is making sure I do a good job as leader.”

“Well, it’s my experience that Fraggles are just like lots of different creatures. Some like some things, and some like other things.”

Princess Gwenalot frowned and leaned against the mirror gently. “Gee, thanks. That helped make everything so clear,” she retorted sarcastically. She sighed. “What about Crooner? Why would he make up stuff about having some sort of relationship? I mean, we’re friends and all, but there’s no rule saying we can’t be friends.”

The mirror sighed. “Gwen, Crooner wants you to be with him more. Did you really need me to tell you that?”

The Princess stood up, tossing down her tail, and went over to a small nook in her cave and fished out some mushrooms which she promptly gulped. She smacked her lips and replied, “He’s going around singing love songs about me, though!”

“That’s Fishface’s version of the story,” the mirror responded. “Don’t you think you should find out for yourself?”

Princess Gwenalot hung her head down. “If I search for Crooner, they’ll all just say that --.”

A female voice clearing her throat interrupted their conversation. Princess Gwenalot looked up and spied a tall, lavender Fraggle with a bright blue cap and long, thick, dark blue robes with gold trim. Her eyes were soft and unassuming and her voice a pleasant breeze. The female Fraggle nodded and asked if she could enter. Princess Gwenalot agreed and the female Fraggle introduced herself. “Hooba, Princess,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Blundig. I hope I didn’t interrupt your doomba,” she noted with slight alarm as she saw crumbs of mushrooms on the floor.

The Princess smiled. “No, I was just finishing up breakfast anyway. Have a seat on my bed. Relax.” She flicked the belubious of her tail to sweep away the crumbs quickly under a mat. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, ah, you see … I’ve come to offer a suggestion, Your Highness.”

Princess Gwenalot glanced over at her mirror and then plopped down on the bed beside Blundig. “You have a suggestion?” she asked casually. “What do you have in mind?”

Blundig maintained a warm smile and informed the Princess that the Great Freeze was coming soon. “Now, even though you’re a hairy Fraggle, Princess, I want you to know that you are still well respected in the Great Hole.”

“That’s not what Fishface tells me,” she noted bitterly.

“Well, you do wear a helmet, which is like a hat, so I think you are more like us than you know.” She noticed the Princess was staring at the floor and so she changed her voice to a soft whisper. “We’ve all seen how exhausting being the leader is for you, Princess. I’m sure Fishface only wants to help.” The Princess looked up at her quizzically. “Princess, I hope you don’t think Fishface is mean. He really does want the best for those of us who live near the Great Hole. Sure, he comes off as overbearing sometimes, but he’s not trying to be evil or anything.”

“That is so inspired of you,” the mirror interjected sincerely.

Blundig smiled and bowed slightly. “Why, thank you! I do apologize … I didn’t ask for your name, Mirror.”

The mirror’s eyes widened. She stuttered and stammered. “Uh, well, I, you see, hm … no one’s ever asked me that ever since the Princess found me. I almost forgot what it was.”

Princess Gwenalot stared, confused, at her friend. “You didn’t tell me you had a name.”

“You never really asked, and it wasn’t that important anyway. We’ve been such good friends. My name doesn’t really matter much.”

Princess Gwenalot stood up and stamped her foot. “Well, now you have to tell me your name! I can’t stand not knowing something about my dearest friend!”

“I’m your dearest friend?” the mirror gasped. “Not even Crooner?”

The Princess frowned. “Stop changing the subject!”

The mirror nodded slightly (as much as her head would allow). “Mallory.”

“But, doesn’t that mean --?” Blundig spurt out.

“Oh, I don’t know what it means,” Mallory blurted out. She stared at Blundig. “Didn’t you have a suggestion for our young Princess?”

“Oh, well, yes, I almost forgot,” Blundig replied nervously. “Princess, since Fraggle Rock is such a large place, and you can’t be everywhere all at once, we were thinking that, maybe, if you don’t mind, you might agree to sharing your job with others. That way, when an emergency pops up, you aren’t stuck doing something more, um, domestic.”

“Domestic?”

“Yes,” Blundig said happily. “You know: cleaning, cooking, decorating – that type of stuff.”

The Princess scratched her scalp. “But, Fraggles are free to do that stuff anyway. Why do I have to organize it?”

“It’s not a criticism of your leadership skills,” Blundig answered diplomatically. “Some Fraggles just appreciate a little more, uh, direction, in their lives. You go off on a lot of adventures protecting us from danger. If you had some type of helpers, they could help with some of the more local problems.”

“Princess! Princess!” a shrieking male voice announced, followed by its owner, a male Fraggle, with a brown tunic, green skin, a bulbous nose, and blond hair and goatee. “Princess! There’s some type of terrible monster floating around in a tunnel a few hours’ walk from the Great Hall!”

“Oh my,” Blundig gasped.

The male Fraggle kneeled down at the Princess’ feet. “I, Sir Blunderbrain, do beseech you to come with me at once, Your Highness.” He revealed a small shield under his tunic.

“Maybe we’ll need these,” Princess Gwenalot offered, picking up the two swords.

“Oh no,” Sir Blunderbrain said. “This monster cannot be cut down in so physical a manner.”

“Fine,” she replied, dropping the swords. She ran over to Blundig and patted her on the back. “Congratulations, you’re my official Local Leader.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” the Princess told her, “you seem to know what you’re talking about. You can start by teaching Fishface some manners.” She smiled at Mallory. “I’ll be back in a flash, Mallory. Thanks for telling me your name.”