The Matron of Monsters

The Matron of Monsters shakes her head disapprovingly at what I have brought, though this is no surprise. Though she will not admit it, The Great War is over. She holds firm to her corner, standing against mine, but a glance or even wayward thought will confirm that she remembers watching me leave, when it was suggested that I go. As such, she knows- she does not believe, does not suspect, does not hope- that "love your enemy" applies between us, from my perspective. It seems she is of the same mind, but her communication methods regarding what options she has are limited. Over time though, like a statue chiseled, it has become clear that she seeks our mutual success as well, as our routine has become something like a well oiled machine.

The Matron of Monsters *tsk's* her tongue and I dramatically reply "What is it this time?" She points at my "conversation piece," as they are called here; long ago I stopped bringing weapons and armor on this level (or was that never have I ever brought one..? 🤔). Instead I bring nonsense, plain and simple. She first gestures to the base- an oversized animatronic marlin affixed to a plastic frame painted to look like wood. 

"This is a little on the nose, isn't it?"

"This is a little on the nose, isn't it?" The marlin shimmies back and forth with an awkward whirring noise as he repeats her.

"Oh yeah, he does that..."

"Oh yeah, he does-" I flick the switch on the side of the mounting. "You get the idea." I can tell she can hear the smirk in my voice, but I pay no mind, I think this is a good one for our purposes.

She gestures up slightly, referencing the marlin's hat situation. "Why is the frog riding in this marlin's hat playing a banjo, when everyone knows banjos are best suited for the acoustics of the open ocean, and the straw is optimal for the resonance of drums?"

I smirk and scrunch my nose, breaking character first. "Well, I hope you don't already have one, that would be embarrassing. I'm sure you'll find some use for them. Anyway, I should be on my way, but first, can I trouble you for some water?"

"Of course." She shimmies over to the kitchen and I remember the banshee, and the nonsense it took to open that portal. I remember the medusa and beholder, as well as the tree which seemed to have sprouted naturally, despite its plastic beginnings. She uses one of those roots to boost herself to the top shelf for my glass, even now, and then fills it, before returning to me. She manages to remain in a feigned huff at my unexpected return to her realm, with such a gaudy present for her no less, long enough to hand me the water.

"So, what do you have planned tonight?"

She furrows her brow at me with a tiny mouth smirk, steps to the "gift," flips the switch and says "You already know what I have planned."

"You already know what I have planned."

I finish taking my extended sip of water; I'm always impressed with the quality here. I set the glass down and, with a bit of a blushing smile, turn to head out. "I guess I do." *Step**step**step**step* can be heard before I stop in my tracks. I whip my head back to find her already squinting suspiciously at the now way too suspiciously silent marlin. I glare at him; though his eyes are centered elsewhere, I know he sees me. 

"I guess I do." Silence returns after his simultaneously way too late and hurried "repetition" and she gasps at me with a point. After some quick thinking on my part, regarding my perfect best move in this tactical situation, I back out, shrugging like an extreme sassafrass, clearly communicating via body language that I make no claims to the autonomy, sentience, or lack thereof regarding said marlin and his hat frog companion. I turn down the hall as I feel my consciousness begin to wander. Level and familiar paths turn once more to dream, and I find myself face to face with the personification of what she wanted to convey to me on this visit, symbolically represented in message, messenger, and realm through the medium of a wall mounted echoing marlin, with a banjo playing frog riding atop his hat. It is quiet here, and the reality possesses the crispness of dawn's promise in every crevice.

"How can something soooo unfamiliar feel like home?" I wonder, still marveling the scenery as I await my monstrous companion for the evening.

"Because your fingerprints are all over it."