Sunday afternoon tea time and book discussion| The Land of Stories one shots

(Charming Brothers) Pillow fights. The most dangerous war.

Charlie sighed, staring down at his desk. His hand was writing almost by muscle memory at this point. To be the king of a kingdom was a great deal of paperwork. Work his hands just couldn't seem to catch a break from. His brothers had been infinitely more comfortable with this than he was.

Even if he appeared mostly as a normal human now, he definitely had trouble feeling like one. After all the time he had spent in the forest, learning the trade of a criminal and refugee, it was sometimes difficult for him to adjust to this life. While he no longer had to fear death by wolves, he now had to deal with an everlasting mound of paperwork.

He wasn't unused to writing. In fact, keeping a journal of his feelings and experiences was what kept him sane. Especially back when he had first learned to live in the forest. But that writing was engaging. He always felt like he had so much to say, but never enough room on his pages to say all the things he wanted. Now he started to feel like there was too much space without the words to fill it in.

Even still, he did this because he knew it was what the people needed. He was determined to set this kingdom right. To have something to show for it. As he wrote over the blank lines with his ink, his head filled with thoughts and innovations. Ideas just waiting to be set in motion.

Just as he set the last page aside, he looked up at the sound of the door to his study opening. There stood a man with long blonde hair and eyes as blue as ice.

"Charlie, are you going to come down for the party?" He asked. Charlie shook his head. "My apologies, but I feel as though my hands will fall off completely if I have to do anything else." He told him with an exhausted laugh. "Still clamoring with the role of royalty I see." The other said, closing the door before he walked up to the desk. "I just don't see how it's such a second nature to you three. I feel like my fingers will stop working if I have to pick up a quill one more time. For your ability to do this so efficiently, I admire you brother." Charlie said, carefully placing his papers to the side.

He capped his ink bottle and put his pen away on the shelf. He then leaned over on his desk. "So, if you don't plan on joining the party, I take it you plan to go to bed instead?" Chandler asked. "If possible, yes." Charlie said. "I wonder what it must be like to spend your nights in the worlds flashiest room." Chandler pondered, putting his head down in front of his brother.

"I actually have my own separate room." Charlie informed him. "Oh really? Why's that?" Chandler asked. "Back when I was turned frog again, she couldn't handle the idea of a "giant cold amphibious man" as she put it, in the same bed. I can't say I really blame her, though. I admit it's nice to have my own room, in spite of that. She's very loud and very much talks in her sleep. All the mirrors in her room don't help." Charlie explained.

"Well now I'm curious about what where  you sleep looks like. Do you mind showing me where your room is, then?" Chandler asked. "I'd love to." Charlie said, standing after a moment. His legs had become so unbelievably tired from sitting in the same position for hours that took him a moment to remember how to walk again. Chandler grinned, watching him almost pityingly in the way only an older brother could. Charlie scoffed at him before he helped his brother up and pulled him by the hand to his own room. It felt good to have an excuse to walk around for a bit.

Chandler watched the halls as they walked. They were decorated by every winter themed decoration you could imagine. The halls looked so festive. In such a contrast to how the party was actually going. It was so boring. The villagers weren't keen on dancing, and Red wasn't doing much better as the host of the fiasco. This in mind, he was surprised to see that Charlie's room was so far from Red's. He noticed that at some point, all the decorations of Red's choice had stopped appearing. Charlie's hall up to his room was much more simplistic than the one his wife had. He opened his door, revealing a room in the same vain.