She had died, and there were angels.<br/><br/>They sang to her, of her beauty and her charm, they adored her for her wisdom and her delicate sensibilities. They, in short, treated her the way that she should be treated. There were soft, fluffy clouds, and there was a man over there who had a very long beard. Which was odd, it wasn't quite what she'd been brought up to believe and he was all funny-looking. Even though she was a Druish Princess, Tiara didn't really buy into the whole religion aspect, but apparently, there he was.<br/><br/>And then, there he wasn't.<br/><br/>There were no angels. There was no singing, and the fluffy clouds turned out to be the damp and freezing space of … well,<i> space</i>. She awoke to find her beloved Tea-Tree patting her hand and Precious looked around. "What happened?" She asked, softly. Then, more quietly, she spoke again. When she whispered to Tea this time, she did so in the soft voice of someone who fully expected no one else to be listening. "I was so afraid, Tea," she admitted, her voice child-like as she did so. That Rupert was able to hear, Tiara neither knew nor cared; she was simply whispering out of a residual feeling of fear and discomfort.<br/><br/>But, quickly, she got herself under control and she looked around. Somehow, someone had unclipped her restraint, and wide eyes regarded the space she found herself in. "Well, we're just going to have to make the best of it, Tea-Tree," she said, bravely. "Please, dearest, would you go and make our living quarters habitable by someone other than deranged and filth-ridden animals?" Because, of course, she was quite sure that they were all that would be prepared to live in that squalor.<br/><br/>"To address your previous question," Tiara said, adjusting her wedding dress slightly and very aware of just how awful she looked, the precocious princess preened and then she delivered her lines, calmly and with the accuracy of Robin Hood shooting for Maid Marion's … apple. "Flibbertigibbet is a planet which is populated by small creatures known as 'flibbertys', they are placid and friendly and, since their planet is largely inhospitable and even the local trout are out to kill you, they live in domes they call 'gibbets'. There are ten thousand flibberties per gibbet and they have a peaceful society. Four gibbets where the seasons are artificially maintained." She sniffed slightly, and looked around. "And everything is clean!"<br/><br/>The same was not true here.<br/><br/>"And as for you, Pussy Galore," Tiara said, "I am pleased to note that you have the wherewithal to at least recognise that I would not be picking up that vile and horrific knock-off," she glanced, once, at Rex and then added to Mia, "or the bag. Now, please, could you let me know just what's in there? I really should contact my father. He's the king - King Roland of the planet Druidia. The Spaceballs are trying to steal our air, but since my sister and her husband more or less dealt with them, they've left us alone."<br/><br/>Motioning to where Tea Tree was - undoubtedly - over-heating a gasket trying to get a space suitable for the most picky and precious pickle, princess Precious, the very same member of the Druidia Royal Family asked, with the obvious expectation that the answer would be immediately, and resoundingly, positive. "Do you have some staff who could help her? And … how long is it to Flibbertigibbet? Do you have a chef?"<br/><br/>All important questions, after all. She even remembered to smile as she asked it. When among barbarians, she knew, one had to make sacrifices.