(no subject)
Remembering some Latin would be a good thing right now. I suppose I shall have to study.
On a related note, I get to write fairy tales. For class. I get credit for this.
And what I did this afternoon, instead of studying Latin: Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, lived a king (as is usually the case in kingdoms), in a castle (as is usually the case with kings). This king had been the elder of two sons, and had thus inherited the throne upon his father's death. His younger brother, who was but a year younger than him, had always been jealous of being the younger, and thus in his mind less important, brother.
Their father, had he felt like it, assigned his two sons any task or challenge to determine the most worthy king, but his instinct told him his elder son was more suited, the inheritance of the elder was more traditional, and besides, one usually had that sort of trial with three sons, and often it came down to who had chosen the best wife. This king was far more interested in the abilities of his sons to rule, not to choose a wife, and thus the eldest had become king.
And he was a good king, most of the time. His taxes were sometimes difficult but really quite reasonable. He did not start wars with neighboring countries for the fun of it, and was in fact rather reluctant to enter into war of any kind. He listened thoughtfully to his advisers, and treated his courtiers with respect, even if he did occasionally side with one or the other and supported the intrigues of a few. He was not bad at settling feuds, and tried his best to be fair. He even rode out into the countryside to visit his peasants on occasion, and put on sometimes extravagant games to entertain the commoners once a year. Generally, he was well-liked and respected.
Except for by his brother. His younger brother was so incredibly jealous that he spent most of his days plotting against his older brother, instead of tending to the duties his brother had given him.
However, luckily for the king, none of these plots came to fruition for a long time.
After several years on the throne, the king married and two years later a daughter was born. Nothing particularly exciting surrounded the girl's birth-in fact, her father had to hurry back from the northern mountains, where he had been deep in negotiations with the giants-to see his new daughter and attend the naming ceremony. The giants sent an envoy with a gift for the baby.
The surrounding kingdoms sent their congratulations and gifts, and one neighboring kind sent a proposal to betroth her to his son of five years of age. The proposal was considered but had to be canceled a few years later when the boy was kidnapped by goblins (he much later became their king). A few witches and faeries even showed up for her naming, but none of them cursed her, or even gave her any particularly interesting gifts. One had just brought a casserole to feed to the newborn's mother, and a fancy rattle for the baby. All in all, it was a distressingly normal birth and naming. Even the bitter younger brother of the king came downstairs from where he had been brooding in his tower to gruffly congratulate the king, and had gone as far as to smile at the girl.
This did not bother the happy king and queen, for they did not want their daughter to be beset by troublesome gifts or curses; they knew they could find a suitable husband for her later and in the meanwhile give her a good childhood and education.
With the exception of the younger brother, everyone was quite happy.
The girl grew and was mostly a happy child. She was quite pretty, though no one would likely call her the fairest of them all, or start wars over her. She had a sweet disposition, but not so sweet that she did not throw the occasional tantrum, or once in a while refuse to come in from playing outside. Anger was not entirely outside of her experience. But overall she was not a bad girl and her parents loved her dearly. Life was all well and good until her sixteenth year.
...is inspired by Patricia C. Wrede's Enchanted Forest Chronicles. There's much more yet to come, this is just the beginning.
On a related note, I get to write fairy tales. For class. I get credit for this.
And what I did this afternoon, instead of studying Latin: Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, lived a king (as is usually the case in kingdoms), in a castle (as is usually the case with kings). This king had been the elder of two sons, and had thus inherited the throne upon his father's death. His younger brother, who was but a year younger than him, had always been jealous of being the younger, and thus in his mind less important, brother.
Their father, had he felt like it, assigned his two sons any task or challenge to determine the most worthy king, but his instinct told him his elder son was more suited, the inheritance of the elder was more traditional, and besides, one usually had that sort of trial with three sons, and often it came down to who had chosen the best wife. This king was far more interested in the abilities of his sons to rule, not to choose a wife, and thus the eldest had become king.
And he was a good king, most of the time. His taxes were sometimes difficult but really quite reasonable. He did not start wars with neighboring countries for the fun of it, and was in fact rather reluctant to enter into war of any kind. He listened thoughtfully to his advisers, and treated his courtiers with respect, even if he did occasionally side with one or the other and supported the intrigues of a few. He was not bad at settling feuds, and tried his best to be fair. He even rode out into the countryside to visit his peasants on occasion, and put on sometimes extravagant games to entertain the commoners once a year. Generally, he was well-liked and respected.
Except for by his brother. His younger brother was so incredibly jealous that he spent most of his days plotting against his older brother, instead of tending to the duties his brother had given him.
However, luckily for the king, none of these plots came to fruition for a long time.
After several years on the throne, the king married and two years later a daughter was born. Nothing particularly exciting surrounded the girl's birth-in fact, her father had to hurry back from the northern mountains, where he had been deep in negotiations with the giants-to see his new daughter and attend the naming ceremony. The giants sent an envoy with a gift for the baby.
The surrounding kingdoms sent their congratulations and gifts, and one neighboring kind sent a proposal to betroth her to his son of five years of age. The proposal was considered but had to be canceled a few years later when the boy was kidnapped by goblins (he much later became their king). A few witches and faeries even showed up for her naming, but none of them cursed her, or even gave her any particularly interesting gifts. One had just brought a casserole to feed to the newborn's mother, and a fancy rattle for the baby. All in all, it was a distressingly normal birth and naming. Even the bitter younger brother of the king came downstairs from where he had been brooding in his tower to gruffly congratulate the king, and had gone as far as to smile at the girl.
This did not bother the happy king and queen, for they did not want their daughter to be beset by troublesome gifts or curses; they knew they could find a suitable husband for her later and in the meanwhile give her a good childhood and education.
With the exception of the younger brother, everyone was quite happy.
The girl grew and was mostly a happy child. She was quite pretty, though no one would likely call her the fairest of them all, or start wars over her. She had a sweet disposition, but not so sweet that she did not throw the occasional tantrum, or once in a while refuse to come in from playing outside. Anger was not entirely outside of her experience. But overall she was not a bad girl and her parents loved her dearly. Life was all well and good until her sixteenth year.
...is inspired by Patricia C. Wrede's Enchanted Forest Chronicles. There's much more yet to come, this is just the beginning.