"Rise....frogs from thy eternal slumber in this...hmm..."

Gertrude snuck a glance down at her arm, where many hastily scribbled notes had been taken. The mist rising from the murky environment she had placed herself in wasn't helping matters much. 

"Oh you nasty piece of wasted earth." She pouted, kicking at the grime and muck near her toes. The mud made a satisfying plop as it landed a couple feet away, and she gave a quick sigh of contentment. She had won. 

"Eh-hem."

She cleared her throat, casting up her long, drooping sleeves to her shoulders in preparation. 

"Rise, you frogs from thy eternal slumber in this bog......"

Her trumpeting voice faded away, and she twisted her head around to look at the small figure standing behind her.

"Who made up this ghastly rhyme?" 

"If you don't get a move on I will tear those golden curls right from your head." The little goblin grumbled, latching onto her dress with tiny claws and skittering up her body until he landed on her shoulder,"Make me'self a nice nest for the missus." He continued, lifting one of the heavy locks and admiring the shimmery glow that surrounded them. Gertrude had enchanted them herself. 

"Oh hush, it was just a simple question." She huffed, flicking her head to dislodge him from her shoulder. With a sound much like a duck's quack, he teetered over and fell halfway down her back, managing to catch onto the ribbons lacing the back of her gown together.

"Just get on wit' it." He mumbled, apparently interested in the fabric. 

Gertrude flicked her hair once more, just to establish dominance, and lifted her arms heavenward. So slender, so pale in this murky despair. She was a tower of grace and beauty, glory and light to this dark world. Her body, slim and adorned with her finest gown to perform the rite that will turn her into a goddess among these mortal men-

"What are you doin that for, you hag?"

"Aesthetic, darling. You wouldn't understand." She breathed, irritated at the interruption. She flicked her hand to shoo him from her shoulder once more, and as he landed with an undignified plop into the muck, she began to speak. 

"Rise you frogs from thy eternal slumber in this bog. Free from it's bad.....BAD? Oh I simply CANNOT go through with this!"

Gertrude cried, stomping her foot down and splattering her velvet skirt with dots of mud. 

"This is an insult, an outrage! To think that I, Gertrude of the Waning Mists, would have to recite such borish, repugnant verses....I will not bow to this level! I will not!" 

With a disgusted flick of her head, she turned her back to the offensive swamp, pursing her lips and turning up her nose to the filth. 

"Your a real piecca work there, bitchy witchy." The nasty little thing cackled, swinging on the two ends of the ribboned corset, using her legs to push off and swoop back and forth. 

"Ohhh..." She whined, ruffling her skirt in frustration,"Why must the source of my power be found here? There must be another spell the hour is almost up I cannot-"

"Oi." 

Gertrude gave a squeal of fright at the sudden voice, turning around so quickly that the goblin was sent flying through the air and straight into a blackberry bush.

"My goodness...who...what-" She sputtered, and a force weighed down on the toe of her glorious leather boots. Slowly, she turned her gaze to the fuzzy, tangled mess of hair that had emerged from the murky depths. A slender nose was the only thing she could see poking out from the nest, and the slow, exhausted voice spoke once more.

"You're so....loud..." It moaned. Gertrude gave another small huff, catching her skirts and making sure they were far away from the creature.

"Begone, foul cretin of this hellish place. I do not have need of you." She said, lifting her chin and staring down her upturned nose. 'Twas harder to see, but a girl had to constantly remind others where they stood.

"Oh." It replied. 

The pair stayed quite still, watching each other. Gertrude patted her curls on either side, making sure the enchantment still held. Yes, still gleaming.

"Why if I were a wee bit younger, I could smash yer darned face in for'at missy-" The goblin began, wrenching itself from the bush. As he finally succeeded in doing so, he lifted his head to see what was going on and froze.

"Eek!" He screeched, little feet scratching at the loose mud as he apparently changed his mind and rushed away.

"Goodbye..." The fuzz sighed, two grey arms emerging from the gunk. It rested it's head on them, revealing an equally grey chin and lips.

"I wonder what that was all about." Gertrude pondered, but she didn't dwell on it. Angry thing wasn't needed any longer.

"As I was saying, creature-"

"You want powers, right?.....Witchy bitchy powers?" It cut in, tilting it's head up to look at her. For the first time, she saw it's eyes. Cold, dark blue orbs of nothingness that barely scratched her pure and selfless heart.

"I....yes." She stuttered, taken aback. However, she quickly got over it,"And it's bitchy witchy, you deaf eared simpleton." As she realized what she had said, her cheeks took on a reddish hue, and she flicked her curls once more.

"Anyway, you know of them? I heard after this.....these terribly written lines were said, I would receive a powerful enchantment to further my spellwork." She said, taking a deep breath to calm her embarrassment. 

"No."

It mumbled, deep in thought. Or perhaps just about to take a snooze. No matter, Gertrude's work here was finished.

"Oh, just go back and rot in your watery bed, you halfwit." She said, voice betraying her disappointment. That crazy old coot back in the village was just making a fool of her, and now the witching hour was coming to a close.

"Wait....arm..." It said, reaching up. Gertrude sighed. Bog creatures were always fascinated by her milky skin. So perfect and unmarred. She couldn't blame them, of course.

"What is it, creature?" She asked haughtily, extending her right toward it. 

"Hmm...." It murmured, squinting at the scrawled sentences on it. 

"Oh, drat. Those are just....notes I had taken. My skin is usually not so-"

"I made this." It said. 

Gertrude was silent for a few moments, then asked.

"Pardon?" 

The mound of fuzz descended partially into the murk, blowing bubbles as it thought. 

"A villager....sent me down here....." 

A chill ran down Gertrude's spine as it looked up. It's eyes were sharper, more focused. Angry.

"Are you.....the vengeful type? I didn't realize-" Gertrude began, but it softened it's expression, giving a little smile after a moment.

"Oh.....no. That was....a dream." 

Gertrude relaxed her tensed shoulders, irritated.

"I am going....to get up now." It sighed, grabbing hold of her arm once again with a surprisingly strong grip.

"Wha-....how dare you-" Gertrude cried, but it didn't let go, using her as an anchor to pull itself up from the depths. With one last tug, it was free, and the momentum sent Gertrude flying into the filth face first. 

"Blargh!!!!" She stammered, struggling to find handholds so she wouldn't sink.

"YOU INSUFFERABLE HALF DROWNED NITWIT! I WILL TEAR YOUR SKIN STRAIGHT OFF YOUR MISERABLE BONES! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" 

She screamed. The creature, now standing on two, very human looking feet, scratched absentmindedly at it's pale blue stomach, watching her attempts.

"RIGHT NOW!"

For a moment longer, it stood. Just staring. Gertrude gazed into it's dead blue eyes, aghast. 

With one last, final 'skritch' from it's fingernails, it turned it's back to her and shuffled into the shade of the trees, heading toward the village.