The more he talked, the more she couldn’t help but laugh. It was farther than ridiculous at this point, it was practically s e n s e l e s s. Still, it made her laugh, and in some way it made her happy and forget that in the grand scheme of things that they were not ok. If she could cover her hands with her face and rub it, she would’ve, but only in a friendly type of exasperation. Why would he even be talking like he did? “Ok, I’m trying to translate that and all I’m getting is that it’s extremely heavy and a dragon ate the castle. It seems that this dragon only eats castles, Finn, I think we’ll be alright.” When he recognized her costume she smiled, showing off her shoes. Was what he said a compliment? What was he even saying? Oh! He was saying that her costume wasn’t a mistake like his was. There it was. “If you can find me a Yellow Brick Road, I think it’ll be my o b l i g a t i o n to follow it. You could even be the Tin Man on my journey. But you’ll have to speak normally, please.”
Clarabel couldn’t help but laugh more, deciding to try speaking the language he was herself. “Thanketh … for thy help? Thine? Thanketh for thine helpeth? Merlin’s beard.” Shaking her heard, she tried to continue, but she knew she’d never let him forget this whenever his little act wore off. “I appreciateth your help, but liketh I had mentioned before, the dragon seems — seemeth — to not be interested in this fair lady, but in the castle where our education is-eth the priority.” The more she tried the more ridiculous she seemed to sound, and even if enough was enough, it was almost sort of fun.
“Alack, dear knight, tis m o s t not a common word. Not in this century. Unless I’m missing some Muggle slang of sort-eth. If so, I grant you the highest of apologies, and a place at court, while we’re at it. I’m not just a lady, knight, I’m as well,” bringing her voice down to a whisper, she said, ” — I’m a secret lost p r i n c e s s. Betwixt our worrying about the dragon, I forgot to mention my title. I hope you can forgive me.”
Every single word he uttered seemed to become more and more p r e p o s t e r o u s. He couldn’t even start to imagine what on earth had come over him. Perhaps he was the source of a prank? Though people generally had to know you before pranking you. Perhaps it was some sort of Halloween curse? He had no clue. But at least he had made her laugh, that was what mattered. It was all that mattered to him. For Finn knew that she lingered in the darkness where melancholy and hopelessness awaited, too. Rare moments of blissful freedom; to break open the cage that seemed to trap her in, well it was worth the momentary embarrassment to do so. “Alack, one can never trust a dragon. Those gents may claim to consume only castles, but then they may decideth that we would gust far better,” he replied, nodding earnestly. Oh for the love of Merlin, why a l a c k again? His smile grew when he saw her ruby red shoes and grew even more with her comment about the Tin Man. “I cannot promise that mine words wilt be normal. Yet, we shalt search for the Yellow Brick Road, mine fair Dorothy,” he declared, bowing again, ridiculously low. His arms swung dangerously in the air in the middle of the gesture, nearly knocking over drinks and couples.
He couldn’t help but laugh at her attempt to speak this peculiar language. It didn’t seem that difficult to him, right now, but he knew that perhaps when the curse had worn off, speaking this way would seem impossible. But she was trying, finding it all difficult, but trying all the same. “Then I must protect our sacred lodging of education from the dragon whose hunger for bricks knoweth no bounds.” The more he spoke, the more peculiar every sentence appeared to be.
“All the cool kids speaketh 'Alack'. Tis rather popular with the first years. It's coming back, like loathsome 80's windcheaters.” he retorted, a twinkle in his dark eyes. Finn leaned in, as though Clara was revealing the most private of secrets. With a gasp, he leaned away from her, bowing even more low than before. He could feel his knees practically give way, but continued with his elaborate bow. “Thy majesty, I didst not knoweth. Mine sincerest apologies, princess. Tis an honour to meeteth thee,”
