NaNoWriMo - Do-over
Nov. 10th, 2009 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
orangerfulErm, I may or may not have lost interest in the first story I was writing. I may or may not also have rotted my brain with hours of "Legend of the Seeker". Either way, here are the first 2,000 words in a new story I just started. I have a plot idea of this one...well, more of a plot than I did for the last one.
Day 7
I have been on the run for a week now. I have been banished from the castle. The vile Charles has turned the castle against me and taken my throne. Luckily, I was able to escape since a few of my men were not so spineless to switch sides at the first sign of attack. They smuggled me out the back door, by the servants quarters. Under cover of night, I managed to sneak out. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. More precisely, I've been hiding in this cave about 10 miles north of the castle.
You might not feel sorry for me. Even though I had only been queen for a year, I grew up a princess, so my life has never been rough. But imagine that someone came into your home, whether it be a box in an alley or a castle on a hill, and forced you a knife's blade to give up everything you had. It's not something you get over in a matter of days.
Yes, I can survive out here on my own. I may have called the castle my home, but I wasn't confined to my quarters. I was always riding my horses out into the woods, exploring the kingdom I would inherit from my father. Plus, it's not like the king and queen were available to be parents. Affairs of state kept both of them occupied. If I sat around waiting for them to be ready to see me, I would have sat in my room every day. Instead, I made friends around the castle. From the butcher to the beggars, I tried to learn their faces and names. They all had their own special skills. The butcher had a way with knives that fascinated me. He knew the exact amount of force to shatter bones into fragments, or to just bruise the skin above it. He also knew how to sharpen weapons, an important skill that no one ever bothers to teach a young lady of the court. By the time I was 10, I had quite the collection of daggers and swords hidden away in my room. I stole most of them from the armory. They had been deemed worthless and were about to be melted down to be reforged, so I didn't think anyone would miss them. I would use the butcher's sharpening stone and make them deadly again. I always kept at least one of the daggers on my person, which is how I managed to roast this hare for my dinner tonight.
Unfortunately, I didn't run off with a bag of blankets and it is freezing in this cave. They overtook the castle in the middle of the night, I had just changed into my sleepwear and I had no time to change out of it. I was writing in my journal when my captain of the guard threw open my chamber doors and told me what was happening. Instead of pulling on my fleece cape or reaching under my bed for a sharpened broadsword, I grabbed the tattered diary and followed him. So, that's why I'm sitting here in what was once a white bed shirt and I'm shivering. It's dark, cold, and damp and I wouldn't be surprised if I caught a fever hiding out in here. I did make a cooking fire, but it's nothing like the roaring blaze of the fires built in the castle. In fact, it's starting to go out, I can barely see what I'm writing. Maybe if I just close my eyes and imagine what life was like before I was removed from my rightful place...
***
Destiny. It's one of those words that people throw around all the time, especially around princesses. You're destined to rule, you're destined to die, you're destined to give birth to someone else who is destined to like wearing red. You get tired of hearing people say it. The word ceases to have any meaning. If everything is already written in some magical tome, why bother doing anything at all? If it is my destiny to be queen, I should be able to just sit here and do nothing and then some day I'll wake up and have my crown back. Of course, destiny is rarely specific about time, place or duration. You may be destined to be a mother - but it might just mean you will have a baby. Or it might mean that you'll adopt someone else's child and raise it as your own. Or it could be really clever and mean people will think you are very caring, and your name will be synonymous with being a mother, but you will never actually be one.
When my father and mother were murdered last year, I stopped believing in destiny. They believed in it too much. The scholars would come up from the castle library with manuscripts in hand, showing them prophecies that determined their fate. They tried to fight back, but you can't fight a prophecy because if you are trying to defeat it, it means that you believe in it. And then it's too late. Your belief gives it the power it needs to destroy you. So I stopped believing. When I was made queen, I locked up the library. If we didn't have scholars telling us about these destinies, we wouldn't worry about them. We might even thwart them on our own. I refused to let myself become obsessed the way my parents did.
I'm sure the scholars of the next age will make note of this. I'm sure they will shake their heads and say that if only I had let them do the research, they could have warned me of Charles and his forces eminent attack. But if it was prophecy, what could I have done to prevent it? Nothing. What is better - knowing that someone is coming to kill you and being killed anyway, or meeting up with them and thinking you may have a chance.
Plus, I'm used to people wanting to kill me, I'm royalty. The ruler of a kingdom constantly receives death threats from any number of people. You can't take them all seriously.
...though it was very different to actually see the person that wanted to kill me. Note scribbled on bits of parchment or slander scrawled on the walls are anonymous. They are easier to ignore. The person can't show themselves to tell me they hate me, why should I believe they will be brave enough to actually attack me? But finally seeing a man standing before me with a sword, with murder in his eyes...that's very different. I'll be honest, I haven't slept well since I saw him. Those eyes haunt me. They were determined. I only saw them for a moment, as I ran across the balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle. But I saw them. He saw me. After all these years, he didn't question that he was meant to kill me. He had decided that it was his destiny.
***
I needed to find food and clothing. I couldn't sit in the cave anymore and wallow in self-pity. I was not going to be found dead with this stupid journal my only possession, full of me whining about how hard it is to be hunted. I headed east, hoping I would find one of the nearby villages, maybe even be lucky enough to meet up with someone still loyal to my family. Not that any of them would recognize me. The image on the local money doesn't do me justice. The gold coins make my nose look huge and my eyes always appear to be crossed.
I eventually found the main road that starts at the castle and leads out to the surrounding villages. I had been walking for several miles when I heard the squeak of wagon wheels coming down the rocky path. I ducked behind the nearest bush and spied out from between the branches. I knew they wouldn't recognize me as a princess, but a girl wandering the forest in just a nightdress would be wise to only reveal herself to those that appear trustworthy.
As it turned out, it wasn't the wheels that were squeaking - it was the cart driver's awful whistle. The old man was tone deaf. I'm not even sure what melody he was massacring as he came down the road. As he came closer, I began to make out words on the side of his cart - "Feeganbottom's Famous Elixir" was painted on the side. I looked down at my feet, saw the calluses and blisters starting to form on the bottom, then meekly stepped out into the road. The old man took awhile to register my existence, causing him to yank back on the horses reins. The animal gave out a aggravated whinny and I could hear the contents of the cart rolling around.
The man blinked at me slowly. I smiled at him sweetly, trying my best to look like an innocent girl who just needed a ride - and nothing else.
"Why, 'ello there young miss." He spoke very loudly, practically shouting at me - he wasn't just tone deaf, he was deaf deaf! "You look like you could use a ride."
I opted to be the mysterious, silent type, nodding in reply. He grinned widely in response. His teeth were quite a collection, each one it's own special shade of green. I don't think any of them were in the correct location in his mouth.
"'lright, then," he hollered. "Hop in the back. Watch out for Nicky."
I hurried to the back of the cart. There was a little set of steps attached so it was easy enough for me to climb on board. It was full of odds and ends. A pile of unfolded blankets and tarps, a collection of bottles, all different sizes and shapes, and a trunk which probably had the man's working clothes. I felt the cart lurch as the old man flicked the reins and the horse began his slow walk towards town. The awful whistling noise started up again.
"Oy, old man!" I said, testing to see exactly how poor his hearing really was. He didn't so much as flinch. He was occupied with his song and his journey, which meant I could go through his belongings and maybe change out of these rags before we made it to town. I tried to open the trunk but it was locked. One of the few skills I did not learn from the beggars was how to pick a lock. I know they knew how to do it, but they always denied it when I asked them, probably afraid I would have them executed next time something went missing from the royal vault.
Since the trunk was impossible to open without the key, I looked around the cart for other items that might be of use. I was in luck - a pair of shoes lay near the pile of blankets. I glanced at the cart driver to see if he was watching me, but the old man was more occupied with what was in his left ear. He pulled his finger out of it and examined the yellow goo stuck to his nail. I shuddered and went to try on the shoes. Except, when I picked them up, they weighed a bit more than I expected. For a moment I thought the man might hide his more precious metals inside the shoes to keep thieve from discovering them, but when I tugged at them a second time, a leg appeared attached to the foot. The pile of blankets bulged oddly for a moment, then two arms popped out from holes on either side and a head appeared in the center.
It was a boy, probably only a year or two younger than myself. I must have woken him because his eyes had a very sleepy look - though they popped right open once he realized what I was doing. He pulled his leg back, and his foot slid out of the shoe in my hands.
Day 7
I have been on the run for a week now. I have been banished from the castle. The vile Charles has turned the castle against me and taken my throne. Luckily, I was able to escape since a few of my men were not so spineless to switch sides at the first sign of attack. They smuggled me out the back door, by the servants quarters. Under cover of night, I managed to sneak out. I've been hiding in the woods ever since. More precisely, I've been hiding in this cave about 10 miles north of the castle.
You might not feel sorry for me. Even though I had only been queen for a year, I grew up a princess, so my life has never been rough. But imagine that someone came into your home, whether it be a box in an alley or a castle on a hill, and forced you a knife's blade to give up everything you had. It's not something you get over in a matter of days.
Yes, I can survive out here on my own. I may have called the castle my home, but I wasn't confined to my quarters. I was always riding my horses out into the woods, exploring the kingdom I would inherit from my father. Plus, it's not like the king and queen were available to be parents. Affairs of state kept both of them occupied. If I sat around waiting for them to be ready to see me, I would have sat in my room every day. Instead, I made friends around the castle. From the butcher to the beggars, I tried to learn their faces and names. They all had their own special skills. The butcher had a way with knives that fascinated me. He knew the exact amount of force to shatter bones into fragments, or to just bruise the skin above it. He also knew how to sharpen weapons, an important skill that no one ever bothers to teach a young lady of the court. By the time I was 10, I had quite the collection of daggers and swords hidden away in my room. I stole most of them from the armory. They had been deemed worthless and were about to be melted down to be reforged, so I didn't think anyone would miss them. I would use the butcher's sharpening stone and make them deadly again. I always kept at least one of the daggers on my person, which is how I managed to roast this hare for my dinner tonight.
Unfortunately, I didn't run off with a bag of blankets and it is freezing in this cave. They overtook the castle in the middle of the night, I had just changed into my sleepwear and I had no time to change out of it. I was writing in my journal when my captain of the guard threw open my chamber doors and told me what was happening. Instead of pulling on my fleece cape or reaching under my bed for a sharpened broadsword, I grabbed the tattered diary and followed him. So, that's why I'm sitting here in what was once a white bed shirt and I'm shivering. It's dark, cold, and damp and I wouldn't be surprised if I caught a fever hiding out in here. I did make a cooking fire, but it's nothing like the roaring blaze of the fires built in the castle. In fact, it's starting to go out, I can barely see what I'm writing. Maybe if I just close my eyes and imagine what life was like before I was removed from my rightful place...
***
Destiny. It's one of those words that people throw around all the time, especially around princesses. You're destined to rule, you're destined to die, you're destined to give birth to someone else who is destined to like wearing red. You get tired of hearing people say it. The word ceases to have any meaning. If everything is already written in some magical tome, why bother doing anything at all? If it is my destiny to be queen, I should be able to just sit here and do nothing and then some day I'll wake up and have my crown back. Of course, destiny is rarely specific about time, place or duration. You may be destined to be a mother - but it might just mean you will have a baby. Or it might mean that you'll adopt someone else's child and raise it as your own. Or it could be really clever and mean people will think you are very caring, and your name will be synonymous with being a mother, but you will never actually be one.
When my father and mother were murdered last year, I stopped believing in destiny. They believed in it too much. The scholars would come up from the castle library with manuscripts in hand, showing them prophecies that determined their fate. They tried to fight back, but you can't fight a prophecy because if you are trying to defeat it, it means that you believe in it. And then it's too late. Your belief gives it the power it needs to destroy you. So I stopped believing. When I was made queen, I locked up the library. If we didn't have scholars telling us about these destinies, we wouldn't worry about them. We might even thwart them on our own. I refused to let myself become obsessed the way my parents did.
I'm sure the scholars of the next age will make note of this. I'm sure they will shake their heads and say that if only I had let them do the research, they could have warned me of Charles and his forces eminent attack. But if it was prophecy, what could I have done to prevent it? Nothing. What is better - knowing that someone is coming to kill you and being killed anyway, or meeting up with them and thinking you may have a chance.
Plus, I'm used to people wanting to kill me, I'm royalty. The ruler of a kingdom constantly receives death threats from any number of people. You can't take them all seriously.
...though it was very different to actually see the person that wanted to kill me. Note scribbled on bits of parchment or slander scrawled on the walls are anonymous. They are easier to ignore. The person can't show themselves to tell me they hate me, why should I believe they will be brave enough to actually attack me? But finally seeing a man standing before me with a sword, with murder in his eyes...that's very different. I'll be honest, I haven't slept well since I saw him. Those eyes haunt me. They were determined. I only saw them for a moment, as I ran across the balcony overlooking the entrance to the castle. But I saw them. He saw me. After all these years, he didn't question that he was meant to kill me. He had decided that it was his destiny.
***
I needed to find food and clothing. I couldn't sit in the cave anymore and wallow in self-pity. I was not going to be found dead with this stupid journal my only possession, full of me whining about how hard it is to be hunted. I headed east, hoping I would find one of the nearby villages, maybe even be lucky enough to meet up with someone still loyal to my family. Not that any of them would recognize me. The image on the local money doesn't do me justice. The gold coins make my nose look huge and my eyes always appear to be crossed.
I eventually found the main road that starts at the castle and leads out to the surrounding villages. I had been walking for several miles when I heard the squeak of wagon wheels coming down the rocky path. I ducked behind the nearest bush and spied out from between the branches. I knew they wouldn't recognize me as a princess, but a girl wandering the forest in just a nightdress would be wise to only reveal herself to those that appear trustworthy.
As it turned out, it wasn't the wheels that were squeaking - it was the cart driver's awful whistle. The old man was tone deaf. I'm not even sure what melody he was massacring as he came down the road. As he came closer, I began to make out words on the side of his cart - "Feeganbottom's Famous Elixir" was painted on the side. I looked down at my feet, saw the calluses and blisters starting to form on the bottom, then meekly stepped out into the road. The old man took awhile to register my existence, causing him to yank back on the horses reins. The animal gave out a aggravated whinny and I could hear the contents of the cart rolling around.
The man blinked at me slowly. I smiled at him sweetly, trying my best to look like an innocent girl who just needed a ride - and nothing else.
"Why, 'ello there young miss." He spoke very loudly, practically shouting at me - he wasn't just tone deaf, he was deaf deaf! "You look like you could use a ride."
I opted to be the mysterious, silent type, nodding in reply. He grinned widely in response. His teeth were quite a collection, each one it's own special shade of green. I don't think any of them were in the correct location in his mouth.
"'lright, then," he hollered. "Hop in the back. Watch out for Nicky."
I hurried to the back of the cart. There was a little set of steps attached so it was easy enough for me to climb on board. It was full of odds and ends. A pile of unfolded blankets and tarps, a collection of bottles, all different sizes and shapes, and a trunk which probably had the man's working clothes. I felt the cart lurch as the old man flicked the reins and the horse began his slow walk towards town. The awful whistling noise started up again.
"Oy, old man!" I said, testing to see exactly how poor his hearing really was. He didn't so much as flinch. He was occupied with his song and his journey, which meant I could go through his belongings and maybe change out of these rags before we made it to town. I tried to open the trunk but it was locked. One of the few skills I did not learn from the beggars was how to pick a lock. I know they knew how to do it, but they always denied it when I asked them, probably afraid I would have them executed next time something went missing from the royal vault.
Since the trunk was impossible to open without the key, I looked around the cart for other items that might be of use. I was in luck - a pair of shoes lay near the pile of blankets. I glanced at the cart driver to see if he was watching me, but the old man was more occupied with what was in his left ear. He pulled his finger out of it and examined the yellow goo stuck to his nail. I shuddered and went to try on the shoes. Except, when I picked them up, they weighed a bit more than I expected. For a moment I thought the man might hide his more precious metals inside the shoes to keep thieve from discovering them, but when I tugged at them a second time, a leg appeared attached to the foot. The pile of blankets bulged oddly for a moment, then two arms popped out from holes on either side and a head appeared in the center.
It was a boy, probably only a year or two younger than myself. I must have woken him because his eyes had a very sleepy look - though they popped right open once he realized what I was doing. He pulled his leg back, and his foot slid out of the shoe in my hands.