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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/776527-Fettuccine-Alfredo
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #776527
Fettuccine has finally escaped the kingdom of Noodle, only to wind up in hot water!
This is a sequal. You will get more out of it if you read the first chapter.
 Fettuccine  (E)
In the kingdom of Noodle, everybody said "noodle," and nobody said anything else.
#703598 by Treerose


Fettuccine strode boldly into the woods, her suitcase in hand. When she had left Noodle last week, she had been excited, anticipating the wide world before her. A week of travel, of sleeping on stones and dirt, had removed much of the thrill and mystery. So far, the world was a wide, dirty place, and very lonely. She began to wonder if there really were other people out there, folks who said something other than the dreaded “Noodle.”

The hours spent walking had made her slow of thought, so when she saw the town it took a minute for her to realize it. Then she stood up straight and smiled. At long last! She glanced down at herself and realized she was caked with dirt. This would never do. Remembering a small stream she had passed not long ago, she back-tracked, and quickly cleaned herself up. Finally, she would meet someone who could give her an answer! Her worries were over!

She walked into town hesitantly, a smile on her lips. She could see people inside their houses, peering out at her and whispering behind their hands, but no one welcomed her. When she reached the center of town, a young boy, maybe twelve years of age, collided with her, and they both fell down.

“Oh dear,” Fettuccine said, standing up and brushing herself off. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” In truth, it was the boy’s fault, for he had been running blindly through the streets, coming to see their visitor, but he said nothing. “Here, let me help you up.” She reached out her hand, but still he stared, awestruck by her beauty.

“My name is Fettuccine,” she said, smiling.

At last, the boy began to move. “Fettuccine?” he asked.

She nodded. “That’s right. I chose it myself because, well, never mind. Anyway, I wonder if you could take me to an inn?” She had just a few copper coins she had managed to save over the years. Soon, she hoped she would be able to set up her own pastry shop, or perhaps help in one already established, but for now, she needed a place to stay.

The boy leaped to his feet, and ran off, beckoning to her. “Fettuccine!!” he hollered, pointing back at her. The townsfolk she could see all nodded and smiled. “Fettuccine,” they murmured.

Obviously, they were impressed with her beautiful name.

There were several people at the inn, and more were following young Fettuccine.

“Is the innkeeper here?” she asked.

A tall, portly man stepped forward and nodded to her. “Fettuccine,” he said gravely.

“How did you….? Oh.” She glanced at her young friend, who still panted from his exertions. “Yes, my name is Fettuccine. How much is a room?” she asked.

“Fettuccine,” he insisted.

“Umm….”

An older woman nearby snickered. “Fettuccine,” she said loudly, and the gathered crowd began to laugh.

Fettuccine began to feel despair as she looked around. “Doesn’t anyone here say anything other than Fettuccine?” she asked desperately. The crowd smiled up at her.

“Fettuccine,” said the innkeeper, and began to tug her inside. Fettuccine gave up struggling and followed. At least the inn would have a bed to sleep in. She would resume her journey in the morning.

The innkeeper and his wife were obviously poor, and surprised to have a guest. Fettuccine guessed that they didn’t get many travelers through here. Although at first she had been glad to hear something, ANYTHING, other than the dreaded “Noodle,” the sound of her name was beginning to wear on her nerves. She excused herself quickly and went up to her bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

In the morning, she rose and ate breakfast. She planned to purchase some bread to carry with her and then be on her way. But her plans were disrupted when a carriage approached the tiny inn. It was a fine white carriage, pulled by four glorious white horses who at least had the courtesy to say “neigh.” The door opened, and out stepped a well-dressed courtier.

“Fettuccine,” he said to the girl. She smiled at him, not knowing what he meant. He beckoned to the carriage, and then, insistently, “Fettuccine.” Since she had no set plans, she decided to go ahead and climb in. She didn’t have much of a choice, with the innkeeper pushing her towards the carriage.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what this is about?” Fettuccine asked the courtier.

“Fettuccine,” he replied. She sighed and looked out the window.

The carriage stopped in front of a large castle. The courtier climbed out, then took her arm and helped her. He led her into a throne room, where he bowed before a man Fettuccine took to be the king – he was, after all, wearing a crown and sitting on a throne.

“Fettuccine?” the king asked.

Fettuccine sighed. “Yes, I am Fettuccine. I come from the land of Noodle, and I am in search of intelligent conversation.”

“Fettuccine!!!” the king cried out, and the members of his court erupted in cheers. He looked at the girl and winked. “Fettuccine,” he said quietly. Fettuccine nodded and gave a weak smile.

Soon a young man came out to meet her. He was a handsome lout of twenty or so, and when he smiled at her, he actually had all of his teeth. What a wonderful man, Fettuccine thought. I suppose they want me to be engaged to him, too. It took all her self-control not to scream, but after all, her mother had taught her some manners. “Noodle,” she had always insisted.

Fettuccine curtsied. “I am Fettuccine,” she said.

“I am Alfredo,” he bowed.

Fettuccine looked up, startled. Had he really said something other than her name?

Alfredo smiled at her. “I know. I was overjoyed when I heard you had come to our village. My whole life I have lived here, hearing only the word “Fettuccine”. It was enough to drive me mad! I finally had to take a different name,” he smiled.

“Fettuccine!” the king pronounced. Another round of cheering began.

The prince grimaced. “My father wants us to be married. Would you…?”

“Yes!” Fettuccine said instantly. He was all she wanted in a man – handsome, friendly, and most importantly, full of intelligent conversation.

The wedding was held within a fortnight. “But my love,” Fettuccine asked the next day, “How can you be king of a people you don’t understand?”

“Oh, I am not to be king,” Alfredo assured her. “That falls to my older brother, Fettuccine, and if anything happens to him, there are three more Fettuccines between us.”

“What shall we do, then?” asked the glowing bride.

“We could stay here, of course,” he said, “But I rather hoped you might like to go on a quest to find more folks like us. Perhaps one day we could form a kingdom filled with people who could say anything, anything at all.”

“Oh, dear,” Fettuccine laughed. “You’re so silly!”

And so they set out, Fettuccine and Alfredo, continuing their search for intelligent conversation.
© Copyright 2003 Scottiegazelle (scottiegaz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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