kitsune76

Went to the desntist earlier. OPne minor filling, which was fine but the stupid anesthetic hit my tongue so now everything tastes of styrofoam (to quote Selma). Grr...

Meanwhile, as someone earlier asked to see some of my writing, here's a short story I wrote last year. It can also be found (along with other bits of my stuff) at my site but I thought y'all migh want to read it. It's a bit long and I'm not sure if I like the ending or not (it's a little arch I now realise) but otherwise I'm very proud of this.

And here it is.

Jolisyeux

Once upon a time, in a far-away land, lived a king and queen with two beautiful daughters. Of the younger much was sung, for she was fair and graceful, and soft of voice and warm of heart, and everything that a princess should be. The older sister, however, was a different story. For although she was just as beautiful and wise and charming (when she wanted to be), she was also headstrong and wilful and had ideas that went very much against the grain of being a princess.

She climbed everything she could.

She wanted to learn how to fence and hunt and ride cross-country.

And she read books in the palace library. Not the expected books, full of romances and comic tales, but books on metallurgy and politics, and even the beginner's guides to taxation that her father had used in his youth.

Naturally the king and queen were more than a little worried about this. So one day, while the eldest was out gallivanting round the countryside, and the younger daughter was doing tapestry with her maid, the king and queen sent for the wise old fairy crone Griselda, who lived in a small cottage at the edge of the woods.

"Griselda," the royal couple began, once the fairy had been announced, "we need your advice concerning our eldest daughter, Jolisyeux. She insists on all manner of un-princess-like behaviour and is nothing like her sister Gracieuse. Please, oh wise fairy, tell us what to do!"

"Well," said Griselda, scratching her warty chin, "'twould be a boring world if we were all alike and no mistake. But I understand yer fears, and ye have always been good to me and my daughter, so just this once I'll advise ye. Summon yer daughter when she gets back and tell her about your woes. Tell her that ye worry about her getting a husband and that ye order her to cease her wilful ways for the good of the kingdom and for the chance to have an heir."

"But she'll be angry," replied the queen with a certain amount of nervousness, "and there'll be a row and she'll probably run off and become a milkmaid or something equally common, just to spite us."

Griselda nodded.

"I knows," she said, a little smugly. "So what ye do, somewhere after the anger but before she runs off, is ye tell her, with great regret and sorrow, that she can have the freedom to act how ere she chooses, providing that she can prove to ye the worth of her current ways by completing three tasks. First, she must tame one of the demonic horses of Laurec and ride him a full three furlongs through the Cursed Forest. Next, she must make from the local iron a suit of armour so strong that it'll resist a blow from the strongest knight in your kingdom. And finally, she must name a suitor who is in every way her equal and her match. If she fails to do any of these tasks then she has failed to make her point and must be bound to mend her ways."

The king and queen were delighted at this plan, for they knew that such tasks were beyond anyone in their kingdom. So when Jolisyeux returned, they summoned her in and proceeded exactly as Griselda had suggested. Surprisingly, the idea of the tasks seemed to excite Jolisyeux, rather than throw her into the mournful state it would any other person.

"For there is nothing one cannot achieve," she told herself as she prepared that night to set off for Laurec, "once one has put one's mind to it."

The journey was long, and not without peril, but Jolisyeux rode with care and common sense, and soon found herself unscathed in the kingdom of Laurec. At first, when Jolisyeux saw the place, she was dreadfully afraid. The land of Laurec was totally barren; a bleak, grey expanse of nothing but rock, worn down by hooves of iron and tempers of fire. But she remembered what she had told herself upon setting out, and strengthened by the words she went forward.

The rocks were hard under her young feet, and the terrain treacherous, and it took all her strength and agility to negotiate the gullies and cliff-faces that seemed to make up this unforgiving place. Still she pressed on, however, her earlier words echoing in her ears, and it wasn't long before she came across one of the creatures she sought.

It was huge. Twice the size of a normal horse, the beast (for it could be thought of as anything else) was jet black, and its hooves were indeed made of iron. Its huge eyes burned, red and pupiless, and as it sensed Jolisyeux's approach, it pulled back its lips in a snarl, making it appear both intimidating and mad. Once more Jolisyeux felt an icy tendril of fear course down her back, but she did not run. Instead, she paused and considered the creature she had to claim as her own.

For a whole day and night she stood there, watching, learning through observation everything she could about the beast before her. It in its turn stared back, snorting occasionally or pawing the ground so hard that sparks flew. But neither of them moved. At the end of this time, Jolisyeux was feeling more than a little dispirited. While she was a fine horsewoman, the beast was clearly too big for her to subdue by force. And should she just mount it without a care, she doubted she had the strength to control the thing for long enough to safely ride it the required distance.

"Besides," she sighed, "I suspect if I drew any closer the creature would flee, and I could never be fast enough to catch it. Oh if *only* there was another way!"

"Perhaps I can help?"

A young man stepped out from behind a rock. He was tall, and well built, with gentle blue eyes and the nicest smile Jolisyeux had ever seen. He was dressed from head to foot in simple but well-cut clothes, and had about him an air of humility that made the princess feel instantly at her ease.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I am one who has been watching your plight," the young man replied softly, "and can help you with your problem. I am as fast as the wind and as steady as a rock. I could catch the horse and ride it until it tired, without fear of injury to myself. Then you could ride it however many furlongs you required on any terrain."

Jolisyeux smiled sweetly.

"Thank you for the kind offer," she replied, "but I could never accept."

"And why is that?" the young man asked.

"Because this is my challenge, and I must complete it on my own," Jolisyeux answered. "Otherwise any freedom that I won would be false."

"As you wish," said the young man, and he sounded, to Jolisyeux's ears, as if he were disappointed. "But you will find no other who could help you tame such a creature. No knight has ever ridden one, nor blacksmith shod one. How can anyone else succeed where skilled horsemen have failed?"

But Jolisyeux said nothing. Instead she smiled, a sweet and simple smile, like the first rays of morning, and before the young man could say or do anything else she walked straight up to the horse, bent down, and blew firmly into its nostrils. For a moment everything was perfectly still, and the world held its breath. Then, almost docile, the horse knelt down before the princess and allowed her to mount without risk or difficulty.

"I read it in a book," she called out to the surprised young man, "It's an old trick taught to blacksmiths to keep horses quiet while they work on them. Your comments reminded me."

The young man smiled at this.

"Then all I can say is that I am glad to have been of some service," he said in reply. And Jolisyeux laughed, and kicked at the horse's flanks, and soon they were riding fast, out of the kingdom of Laurec and towards the Cursed Forest.

For three furlongs she rode through those evil woods. Three furlongs, while the trees flailed their branches, and whispered dark secrets, and pulled their roots up in front of her steed. The beast, however, was a true example of its kind, and it wasn't long before both it and its new mistress were riding back to the castle, the first task completed.

There should have been great rejoicing, for it was a hard task nobly won. But the king and queen were worried, afraid that if Jolisyeux were as successful at the others as she had been in Laurec, all would be lost. So they hurried her off to the foundry as soon as she arrived, and, giving her only the minimum of bedding and tools, ordered her to complete the next task by daybreak or there would be trouble.

This was not as easy as it sounded. The iron of Jolisyeux's kingdom was of a poor and delicate quality, and only the finest smiths with a good week of work could produce anything long-lasting. Even so, Jolisyeux set about the task with a good will and surprising energy.

"For there is nothing one cannot achieve," she told herself as she added logs to the furnace, "once one has put one's mind to it."

Despite this drive, however, the iron refused to work well. Many pieces broke during the forging, or refused to take the right shape. Those few she did manage to finish were ugly, brittle things that often chipped the moment they were laid gently (oh so gently) onto the anvil to cool. Still Jolisyeux worked on, keeping the forge still blazing, as blue skies became grey, then purple, then finally the inkiest of dark blacks. It was only when all had become perfectly still that Jolisyeux found herself throwing down her hammer in disgust, and sitting down dejectedly to stare at her poor handiwork so far.

"It's as if the iron does not *want* to be strong!" she sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow. "If *only* there was some way of giving it that extra strength it needed!"

"Perhaps I can help?" said a voice

Jolisyeux turned and saw, silhouetted in the firelight of the forge, the young man who she had last seen in the valley of the demon horses.

"Who are you?" she asked once more.

"I am one who followed you from the kingdom of Laurec," the young man replied softly, "and I can help you with your problem. I am as cunning a metalworker as the world has ever known, and know the secret language of the elements. I can talk the iron into making itself so strong that no helm made from it would ever dent, and no sword ever break. Then you could make it into a suit of armour that could withstand fifty or more blows of the strongest knight in the kingdom. "

Jolisyeux smiled sweetly.

"Thank you for the kind offer," she replied, "but I could never accept."

"And why is that?" the young man asked.

"Because this is my challenge, and I must complete it on my own," Jolisyeux answered. "Otherwise any freedom that I won would be false. But if you want to be of some use, you can help pump the bellows."

"As you wish," said the young man, and he sounded, to Jolisyeux's ears, even more disappointed than before. But he set about his task with a will, as Jolisyeux did with hers, and for a while it looked like they were making progress. But eventually the results became the same as they had been before, and Jolisyeux grew despondent once more.

"Perhaps I *should* take up the young man's offer..." she found herself muttering more than once, though never so loud that the young man could hear.

Now it so happened that Jolisyeux's sister, Gracieuse, was of a sensitive constitution and often found herself walking late at night, unable to sleep. And so it was this very night that she found herself passing the forge and heard her sister's woe, and it made her sad. For Jolisyeux could do no wrong in Gracieuse's eyes, and the thought of her sister giving up or losing out on her much fought-for freedom upset her greatly. So quietly she crept up to the entrance of the forge and waited for her moment.

"Excuse me," she said softly, when both Jolisyeux and the young man were resting, "but I think I might be able to help. My maid, Ethel, is the daughter of the fairy crone Griselda and wise in many unknown and arcane arts. Perhaps she could advise you, dearest sister, on how to overcome your problem?"

Well at first Jolisyeux rejected, and Jolisyeux refused, telling her sister exactly what she had told the young man. But Gracieuse was as persuasive as her sister was wilful, and at last the three of them went back to the palace to find the fairy maid and explain to her their problem. This did not take long, for Ethel was as restless as her mistress and like all fairies, eager for a challenge. When Jolisyeux had finished explaining, Ethel frowned for about three seconds, and then smiled just as quickly.

"I have heard told," she began, "that if you heat up coal in a sealed pit, but do not burn it, you produce a substance that burns for longer and seems to treat iron with more respect. Why not try that?"

So Jolisyeux and the young man returned to the forge and began the long and arduous process suggested by the maid. Past cockcrow they worked, and well into the day, and for a time there was a worry that the armour would not be ready for the testing. But the iron did seem to be better, and it certainly appeared to be stronger, and so it was that when the king and queen and all the royal court came round at the appointed hour, Jolisyeux presented them her work with a smile as bright as the noon sun.

The king and queen were a little suspicious at first, particularly when they saw the young man. But a test was a test, and so it was that they called forward their strongest knight and his squire, and ordered them to proceed as had been decided.

Nervously the young man donned the armour.

Fiercely his father struck the first blow!

The armour held.

Frowning a little, the knight pulled out his great broadsword and struck again!

Still the armour held.

Then the knight went at it as hard as he could, blow after blow raining down upon the simple sheet of metal that Jolisyeux had been forging throughout the night. And though the experience so shook up the squire that he later left the knighthood and became a monk, the armour itself wasn't even dented.

Grudgingly the king and queen accepted that she had passed the second test, and the air was filled with cheering.

(During which, Jolisyeux leant across the anvil and complimented the young man on how well he had worked the night before.

"For without your strength," she said, "we would never have been able to get the fire hot enough to succeed."

The young man simply smiled.

"Then all I can say is that I am glad to have been of some service," he said in reply.

And Jolisyeux laughed).

Finally the king gestured for silence and a hush fell upon the assembled court.

"Daughter," he declared, and his voice was stern, "since you have so ably fulfilled the tasks set to you so far, your mother and I have decided that you must complete the third and final one *here* and *now*. Without delay."

A murmur of discontent went through the assembled crowd, for this seemed beyond the boundaries of fairness, and even Gracieuse found herself stepping out.

"Father!" she protested, "That isn't fair! Jolisyeux needs more *time*!"

"No!" barked the king. "She has wasted time enough on this foolishness!"

He turned to face his eldest daughter.

"Choose a suitor from those assembled this *instant*, or everything you have and value will be forfeited directly to your mother and I!"

Jolisyeux looked thoughtful.

"Well?"

"Perhaps I can help?" said a voice

As one, the entire court turned to look at the young man who stood next to the princess. The king frowned.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am one who has been following your daughter's quest," the young man replied softly. "I am one who has offered her help twice over, and both times she has refused."

Now his voice was growing stronger and he seemed to be standing even taller.

"I am Prince Erxthelsa of the Twilight Fay, versed in Medicine and Physics and Philosophy and Law. I am a student of many languages and a seeker after greater truths."

His eyes flashed.

"I am as powerful as the storm!" he declared. "As fierce as the wolf!"

His voice became soft once more.

"And as gentle as the grass."

Quietly he looked at the king and queen.

"I am Prince Erxthelsa of the Twilight Fay, and I am in love with your daughter. And with your permission, I ask for her hand in marriage."

All eyes, including the prince's, turned to face Jolisyeux.

"If that would be acceptable to you, that is, my lady."

Jolisyeux looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she smiled sweetly.

"Thank you for the kind offer," she replied, "but I could never accept."

Erxthelsa's face fell.

"And why is that?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"Because I never intend to get married," Jolisyeux said simply. "I want to go out into the world and see all there is to see. I want to be able to stand before a foreign court and declare myself versed in all the things that you are. I want to become a Doctor and a Surgeon and a Philosopher and Thinker. And how can I do all that if I'm tied to wifely duties?"

"Then you have lost!" roared the king. "You have reneged on the last task!"

Jolisyeux shook her head.

"Not at all," she said. "The task asks me to name a *suitor*. Not a husband. And I've already made my choice there."

"Which is?" asked the queen.

"I choose life. I choose the whole world as my suitor, for where else could I find someone equal to me, either in position or intellect, or any one of a dozen presiding features. And no matter how much I might improve myself in those matters, there would always be someone who is prettier or smarter, so I would always be meeting my match. Which fits the terms of the task precisely, would you not agree?" And she smiled a smile as mysterious as the late afternoon sunlight playing through the trees.

The king looked at the queen. The queen looked at the king. Then they both turned to look at the fairy crone Griselda, who was standing in the crowd.

The fairy looked back, unblinking, brown eyes heavy with centuries of knowledge, wisdom and guile.

Then almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

This time the cheering could be heard across seven kingdoms.

Not everyone was as happy of course. The king threw off his crown and, rather successfully, began to trample it into the ground. The queen burst into tears. But Jolisyeux took no notice of these histrionics, preferring instead to calmly gather the few things she had kept in the foundry with her, and whistle for her horse. Moments later the great beast came charging from the stables, and the cheers redoubled as it knelt before her. Calmly she mounted, and then, with a tap of her heels at its flanks, she rode away hard, through the crowd and out of the courtyard, and away from the castle forever.

--

There isn't much more to tell.

A few miles later, Jolisyeux came upon Prince Erxthelsa of the Twilight Fay, versed in Medicine and Physics and Philosophy and Law, wandering along the side of the road looking as sad and bedraggled as only the broken-hearted can. And although her views hadn't changed from earlier, Jolisyeux couldn't help but be moved by such a sight - for he wasn't a bad man, and he *had* been trying to help. So she rode up beside him and called out

"Ho! Prince Erxthelsa of the Twilight Fay! Seeing as you're so well versed in Medicine and Physics and Philosophy and Law, why not come with me? After all, such learning as yours should and could be put to great use in the wider world. Besides which, I feel that I owe you, for if it was not for your list of learnedness, I would never have been finally persuaded to choose the path I did."

And at this the young man actually smiled.

"Then all I can say is that I am glad to have been of some service," he said in reply.

And Jolisyeux laughed, and let the prince mount up behind her. And so the two of them spent the rest of their days together, travelling through the towns and cities, studying at the universities and guilds, having adventures, and generally living out Jolisyeux's philosophy; that there is nothing one cannot achieve once one has put one's mind to it. Maybe they fell in love and maybe they didn't, but it didn't matter, for they were always in each other's company, and always seemed to be perfectly happy that way.

They never got married though.

Gracieuse surprised everyone when, a year and a day later, she announced that while everyone had been distracted with her sister, she had embarked on a relationship with the fairy maid Ethel, and the two of them were going to live with Ethel's mother until they had decided what they wanted to do with their lives. Many tried to convince her otherwise, of course, but they were usually gently but firmly thwarted by the fairy Griselda.

"For as much as I respect the royal family," she would say, "my family comes first, and I've never been one to stand in the way of true love. Besides, they make a nice couple."

As to the king and queen, well, with one daughter forever unmarried and the other unlikely to have children, they eventually bowed to the inevitable and abdicated, choosing instead to open a small wayside inn under their real names of Mr and Mrs Olivier and Susanna Mignon. So the kingdom became a republic, and though this didn't improve matters much for most, many still felt that, *fundamentally*, it was a move for the better.

Which all just goes to show that being royalty isn't all it's cracked up to be.