Woot, writing daily again (for now)
Too lazy to make with the long talkies. Part two of random drabble thing that I might have to give a name to at some point.
Part One
So, maybe I don’t really love being a prince, but I know there are worse things out there that I could be.
Joc is still standing there, waiting for a reply, or an order, maybe even a dismissal. His face is so blank it’s hard to tell. “Tell me a story Joc,” I order, finally breaking the heavy silence between us.
Joc sighs. “Once upon a time,” he begins in a bored sounding tone, “There was a prince.”
This beginning surprises me a little, for I am used to stories about princesses who are eventually rescued by
their handsome prince charming. I have not yet heard a story that begins with a prince.
“The prince was lovely and fair, but sad, for his lands were plagued with famine and his people were mad with grief. His father, the king cared little for the plight of the prince’s people and so, every night, the occupants of the castle supped on delicacies from around the kingdom, eating far more than their fair share while the rest of the kingdom went hungry.
“This saddened the fair prince, for he had no wish to see any suffer, and so, each night he partook of the bounty his father ordered be served, but instead of eating it himself, he stole it down to the villages around the castle and gave all that he had to the poor people. The people were ungrateful for the prince’s offerings, demanding more and more each time he offered up to them his meal.
“The prince was not yet of age, and his father cared little to set to right the problems of his kingdom, and no matter how the prince pled his case, his father remained steadfast.
“And so, the prince continued to bring offerings of food to the villagers each night, and touched not a bite of it himself for he believed that the people were more in need than he. Not everyone was so generous as he however.
“Soon, even the castle did not have enough for a feast every night of such grand proportions, for they had not rationed their food and drink well. So it was, that when the prince brought the rather much smaller bounty than usual that the villagers became much enraged and accused the poor prince of hoarding the food for his own.
“The prince was rather weak himself from lack of food and protested that this was all he had been given and that his intentions were kind. He wished to see no one suffer, but the rage of the village could not be appeased.” Joc has stopped talking.
I frown, “Are you not going to finish the tale?”
Joc refuses to look at me. “That is the end of the story my prince.”
“How can it be? The prince was going hungry, there was still a famine, the evil King had not been punished, and the villagers were enraged. That does not an end make Joc,” I snapped a little churlishly. “You’ve not yet gotten around to the happy ending.”
“Not all endings are happy ones my prince. The story ends in much the way one might expect. The kind and fair prince is killed by the angry mob, the villagers storm up to the castle in their ire and are shot down by the castle archers. “The evil King is not defeated and eventually, after many years the country recovers from the famine.”
I blink. “I do not think that I like that story Joc.”
“I am so terribly sorry,” he snaps sarcastically back at me, and I can’t help but wonder what in world is wrong with him today, he is never so tense and . . . and angry, especially not at me.
“Joc?” I ask and I am aware my voice is not as strong, not as sure as I would like it to be.
“Nevermind your majesty. I have duties to which I must attend.”
He is gone before I can say a word to stop him.
Part One
So, maybe I don’t really love being a prince, but I know there are worse things out there that I could be.
Joc is still standing there, waiting for a reply, or an order, maybe even a dismissal. His face is so blank it’s hard to tell. “Tell me a story Joc,” I order, finally breaking the heavy silence between us.
Joc sighs. “Once upon a time,” he begins in a bored sounding tone, “There was a prince.”
This beginning surprises me a little, for I am used to stories about princesses who are eventually rescued by
their handsome prince charming. I have not yet heard a story that begins with a prince.
“The prince was lovely and fair, but sad, for his lands were plagued with famine and his people were mad with grief. His father, the king cared little for the plight of the prince’s people and so, every night, the occupants of the castle supped on delicacies from around the kingdom, eating far more than their fair share while the rest of the kingdom went hungry.
“This saddened the fair prince, for he had no wish to see any suffer, and so, each night he partook of the bounty his father ordered be served, but instead of eating it himself, he stole it down to the villages around the castle and gave all that he had to the poor people. The people were ungrateful for the prince’s offerings, demanding more and more each time he offered up to them his meal.
“The prince was not yet of age, and his father cared little to set to right the problems of his kingdom, and no matter how the prince pled his case, his father remained steadfast.
“And so, the prince continued to bring offerings of food to the villagers each night, and touched not a bite of it himself for he believed that the people were more in need than he. Not everyone was so generous as he however.
“Soon, even the castle did not have enough for a feast every night of such grand proportions, for they had not rationed their food and drink well. So it was, that when the prince brought the rather much smaller bounty than usual that the villagers became much enraged and accused the poor prince of hoarding the food for his own.
“The prince was rather weak himself from lack of food and protested that this was all he had been given and that his intentions were kind. He wished to see no one suffer, but the rage of the village could not be appeased.” Joc has stopped talking.
I frown, “Are you not going to finish the tale?”
Joc refuses to look at me. “That is the end of the story my prince.”
“How can it be? The prince was going hungry, there was still a famine, the evil King had not been punished, and the villagers were enraged. That does not an end make Joc,” I snapped a little churlishly. “You’ve not yet gotten around to the happy ending.”
“Not all endings are happy ones my prince. The story ends in much the way one might expect. The kind and fair prince is killed by the angry mob, the villagers storm up to the castle in their ire and are shot down by the castle archers. “The evil King is not defeated and eventually, after many years the country recovers from the famine.”
I blink. “I do not think that I like that story Joc.”
“I am so terribly sorry,” he snaps sarcastically back at me, and I can’t help but wonder what in world is wrong with him today, he is never so tense and . . . and angry, especially not at me.
“Joc?” I ask and I am aware my voice is not as strong, not as sure as I would like it to be.
“Nevermind your majesty. I have duties to which I must attend.”
He is gone before I can say a word to stop him.