I’m without internet connection for a little while, so I’ve temporarily disabled the comment moderation. Feel free to comment away, and be sure to check back later, because I’ll be responding to you all when I return to the realm of internet.
This is my first official snippets post, and what better story to give you a peek into than my current WIP! Yep, that’s the Five Magic Spindles entry . . . which still doesn’t have a title. Botheration. Anyway, enough rambling. Behold the raw magic of a first draft. (Or perhaps, the raw mess. Take your pick; there’s a bit of both in there.)
Shutting the book, Luci leaned her head against the wall. “If loves puts you in a cage, I’d rather they didn’t love me.”
~*~
Reverie prattled on through the second and third courses, by which time the conversation had veered from dwarves and boots to rumblings from the ogre colonies, to the torrential rains sweeping across her homeland, to the princess’s lacy wrappings spun by Iror’s best spinners, to the quality of the rubies in the cutlery.
Aleida nodded along and inserted an “Oh my” or “Indeed” when appropriate.
~*~
Riar’s face tightened. “Forgive me. I am not in the habit of inviting dead people to parties.”
~*~
Luci eyed her company. “Master Boris.”
Her tutor raised his head. “Yes, Princess?”
“Have I ever told you that you have the nose of a pig?”
Boris blinked and touched his rounded, upturned nose. “I–no, Princess, you haven’t.”
“I think it goes lovely with your squinty little eyes.” Luci sliced off another bite of melon. “You would make a convincing swine in next year’s children’s pageant.”
~*~
“How fares your training?” Father asked, chipper tone belying his wasting frame.
”Better than ever.” Hadrian massaged his sore bicep.
Father sighed contentedly and shifted against the pillows. “Good. A king should know how to wield his sword.”
Hadrian looked down at the tiled floor. The onset of the withering six months ago had served to bring out Father’s greatest wisdom, however slight it may be, and in the past weeks he had talked of little more than kingship, death, and the crowning of his only son.
~*~
Without a backward glance, she ran up to her chambers and slammed the door. If her tongue could not speak her mind, that echoing boom certainly could.
~*~
Two things happened at once. The royal couple’s faces paled to the color of frost, and Aleida staggered back with a sudden wave of realization, crashing like the Falls when they were swollen with snowmelt.
~*~
“Who are you?”
“My name matters little.” She still did not face him, but stood rigid, arms crossed.
“It does if it belongs to the one who rescued me.”
~*~
Kronna turned on him, prematurely-grey braid swinging. A small beam of daylight fell on one side of her face and painted it paler than usual, while shadows cloaked the other side–a grotesque contrast on her harsh features. “Where are you going?”
Hadrian met her gaze unflinchingly. “The gardens.”
With an impatient wave of her hand, she turned to Father. “Go. If Bauglind were a plot of dirt, you would make a very prepared heir indeed.”
~*~
Floating. Falling–ever downward, never stopping. Nothingness full of something. Silence full of sound.
~*~
“Hold your thundercloud, I’m coming!” a voice shouted from within. Moments later, the door banged inward. “Oh! Prince Hadrian!” Reverie blinked. Her faded golden curls formed a tangled halo, mussed from sleep. “Good mor–is it morning?” She peered outside at the sky. “Hardly close enough to even wish you a good one. Hmph.”
~*~
In the waking world, during the hour before the sun rose, the sky would always begin to brighten in preparation, lightening in subtle shades. And slowly, the darkness would lift, and the shapes in Luci’s chambers would grow more distinct. That was how it felt now, as bits of knowledge floated back to her mind.
~*~
Reverie . . . launched into a story drawn from history, just wild enough to waver on the brink of belief, and just strange enough to make sense.
~*~
“There is a magic deeper than the curse, and deeper than my blessing.” [Aleida] spoke softly, but her words echoed against the mist. “We fairies cannot touch it. It lies within the very marrow of the earth’s bones, and it is beyond our comprehension to control.”
~*~
Luci whispered the words burning in her throat. “I have called them to their deaths.”
~*~
He came up behind her. “If I close my eyes, will you face me and hold out your hand?”
“Promise to keep your eyes shut?”
“Promise.” He closed them. “Now hold out your hand.”
Grass rustled. He reached out blindly and found her hand, warm and smooth as silk-leaf. Carefully, he wrapped her fingers around the star. “There. Something unasked.”
Love these snippets, and your retelling. I am having the hardest time writing mine, and I only have the vaguest idea of what it will be like. I love the, "I am not in the habit of inviting dead people to parties."
I now feel inspired to write a character who is. 😀
Thanks so much, Skye! 😀 But aw, I'm sorry to hear that your retelling is giving you a hard time. From what I've heard of it, it sounds like a real tear-jerker. I hope the writing process gets better for you. <3
LOL, that would be so funny! I can just imagine someone sending out invites to the deceased. XD
Those were fun to read- now I want to see the whole thing! Looks as if your re-telling is coming along nicely.
Why thank you! ^_^ It's coming along almost *too* nicely, actually. I will have to turn a blind eye to the word limit as I write the last bit, because there is no way on this green earth that the story will complete itself in the few thousand words I have left. XD But that's what editing is for.
*huggles all the delicious Tracey-ness* I hope to continue reading this story THIS WEEK. Like in a day or two! I AM SO EXCITED!!!
Enjoy your time without internet. I miss you and look forward to you returning! ^_^
You sweet gal! I did get those chapter responses, which made me grin (as usual).
I did, thanks! And now I'm back! ^_^