The Machiavellian Adventures of Princess Eleanor
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Judas: What? No protests that Nell belongs to Trempy? I'm shocked! And no admiration for Trempy's multiple Hugh-squishings either. Simply stunned. 
Avernite: So you think Nell should allow herself to be made puppet queen with a crown she has never wanted and believes will be a disaster, likely ending up married to Malcolm in the process, instead of taking the chance to get something she wants very much and doing her all to make it work? :wacko:
Nell's been saying ever since the possibility appeared that she doesn't want the crown, and she's been saying why to the point of me fearing I was hammering it home with a mallet the size of Ireland. Conversely she's been in love with Fulk for far longer than that. Given that I don't see how her choice is anything but predictable.
It's been all of two days since Jocelyn met Hugh. It takes time to travel.
Would the North march for Nell before? We're told it would. Countless failed would-be rulers were told the same - and the help failed the materialise. Something a few characters have commented on at various points. This isn't your typical 'hero with destiny in straightforward yarn where everything is as it looks' yarn. And then there's one not so small detail overlooked: Fulk is going to be trying to batter a good part of the North into following him, and squashing Trempy supporters where he finds them.
Hugh’s developing a bit of a ruthless streak, steadily, and slowly inching away from his hang-ups. The things he’s doing now he wouldn’t have done a month before, and the change is greater if you look further back.
Avernite: So you think Nell should allow herself to be made puppet queen with a crown she has never wanted and believes will be a disaster, likely ending up married to Malcolm in the process, instead of taking the chance to get something she wants very much and doing her all to make it work? :wacko:
Nell's been saying ever since the possibility appeared that she doesn't want the crown, and she's been saying why to the point of me fearing I was hammering it home with a mallet the size of Ireland. Conversely she's been in love with Fulk for far longer than that. Given that I don't see how her choice is anything but predictable.
It's been all of two days since Jocelyn met Hugh. It takes time to travel.
Would the North march for Nell before? We're told it would. Countless failed would-be rulers were told the same - and the help failed the materialise. Something a few characters have commented on at various points. This isn't your typical 'hero with destiny in straightforward yarn where everything is as it looks' yarn. And then there's one not so small detail overlooked: Fulk is going to be trying to batter a good part of the North into following him, and squashing Trempy supporters where he finds them.
Hugh’s developing a bit of a ruthless streak, steadily, and slowly inching away from his hang-ups. The things he’s doing now he wouldn’t have done a month before, and the change is greater if you look further back.
you know, if i were the scotish king, i would have hit malcolm a lot sooner and significantly harder.
then again, if i were malcolm, the king would be me. heh.... yeah, that doesn't make as much sense as it could.
everything is going to plan... though i haven't the faintest idea who's [beyond that of the celestial frog, of course]
i, personaly, can't wait to se trempy go squish... but i do hope it doesn't come down to hugh and nell+co haveing to fight one another. i can't say i agree with what hugh does, but i can see where he's comeing from, you know? well, mostly. that whole bit with the lady of that castle or whatever.. his mistress? yeah.... stupid, stupid idea. well, from the point of view of the me talking to the charicter. talking to the author, it's a work of shear brilliance
yes, you certainly never fail to provide interesting reading, Froggy, that's for sure.
then again, if i were malcolm, the king would be me. heh.... yeah, that doesn't make as much sense as it could.
everything is going to plan... though i haven't the faintest idea who's [beyond that of the celestial frog, of course]
i, personaly, can't wait to se trempy go squish... but i do hope it doesn't come down to hugh and nell+co haveing to fight one another. i can't say i agree with what hugh does, but i can see where he's comeing from, you know? well, mostly. that whole bit with the lady of that castle or whatever.. his mistress? yeah.... stupid, stupid idea. well, from the point of view of the me talking to the charicter. talking to the author, it's a work of shear brilliance
yes, you certainly never fail to provide interesting reading, Froggy, that's for sure.
Oh, frog, I know that she's doing it, and I understand why, but that doesn't stop me from thinking she's 'God-damned fucking stupid' as Malcolm so nicely put it
I mean, seriously.. Leaving England to Hugh is like parking your car on a railtrack. You know something's gonna go wrong. You just don't know how bad the damage will be.
But maybe Hugh will shape up. I seriously doubt it, though.
I mean, seriously.. Leaving England to Hugh is like parking your car on a railtrack. You know something's gonna go wrong. You just don't know how bad the damage will be.
But maybe Hugh will shape up. I seriously doubt it, though.
A raindrop splattered across the tip of Jocelyn’s nose. “God’s sword!” He wiped the solitary herald of approaching dampness away. “Does it never stop raining in this damned country?”
Alain pulled the folds of his cloak forward to protect his clothing from the weather. “It’s the first time it’s rained since we got here, my lord. You’re thinking of when we were going through Normandy; it rained for a couple of days then.”
Damn him if he wasn’t right, and damn him for being right. The youth crossed a rut in the unpaved street with a single stride; lacking his spindly long legs Jocelyn took a slight detour. He nearly collided with a townsman taking the same detour in the opposite direction. The man started to curse Jocelyn as a blind lout, until his mind worked out what the good clothing and sword meant. “Damn it,” Jocelyn grumbled once back at his squire’s side, “the people here have no manners.”
“They’ve no manners anywhere,” said the squire cheerfully.
“True, that. Bloody disgraceful.”
The raindrops picked up frequency; Jocelyn wrapped his own cloak about himself, ducked his head down and speeded up into something midway between a walk and a headlong charge.
A few streets further along and they found the tavern with the sign of a mermaid. The place was unadventurously called ‘The Mermaid’ by its owner; everyone else called it ‘The Fishy Lady’. He’d been told it was a reputable, clean place with good service and edible food; it was also where he’d find the captain of a merchant vassal set to sail on the morning tide for Perth.
The interior was dim, one of the serving women was beginning to light the torches slung in wall brackets to compensate for the greyness the rain was bringing with it. Several tables stood empty, the others filled with sailors, townsmen skiving off work, a few soldiers, and other miscellaneous common folk.
Jocelyn claimed the empty corner table, sitting with his sword arranged so it would be easy to draw. Alain did likewise. A woman hurried over, either the service was as good as claimed or – more likely – she saw their obvious status.
“Lordships.” Her curtsey went deep, and wobbled. Which set other assets wobbling too. God’s toe! Some things were meant to be small, neatly formed and pert, not flopping and jiggling about all over the place! The ideal of feminine beauty said small breasts were the most desirable, and it was something Jocelyn had never felt inclined to argue with. It was like seeing someone being hideously mutilated – he couldn’t look away, however much he wanted to. She noticed where he was looking and dimpled with a practised smile. Bloody hell again – this place was supposed to be nice, the sort of place you could take your wife into without fear. He’d wanted nice, he’d been hoping for nice, just for a change and a rest, and sod it if it made him an old man. “You’ll want some wine, not ale?” Her smile didn’t let up.
Wife – if Tildis could see him now she’d be going on for damned ages, saying his eyes were about to pop out and fall down the front of the woman’s dress, which plainly wasn’t true. To prove the miserable cow wrong he tore his gaze away. “Yes. Wine. Good wine.”
“Of course, only the best. And if there’s anything else you want …”
“Not at present.”
She left, after another animated curtsey, swaying across the floor in a way which, in the language of flirtation, meant he was on to something.
“Jesù!” said Alain in a hushed, excited whisper. “She was all …!” His hands made some very complex gestures, forming a rough outline of the barmaid’s figure. “Jesù!”
Jocelyn just grunted and reassessed what he knew of his squire’s taste in women: it was declining.
Their drinks were delivered with another smile and more of that walk; she departed with another smile and more of that walk. Jocelyn thought a whole lot of very bad words; now he’d practically have no choice but to fork out yet more money he didn’t want to spend on some woman he didn’t want simply because his men kept on almost definitely – the fact he hadn’t caught one doing it didn’t mean the sly bastards weren’t, damn their insolence! - giving him funny looks over what Richildis had said. Damn it, damn it, damn it! He was beginning to wonder if the general effect of eating too much of the same food applied to women too; he was certainly losing interest in them, just like that time he’d eaten salt beef every day for a month nearly during a siege. God, he hoped not – he still couldn’t eat salt beef without feeling ill afterwards.
Alain cleared his throat. “My lord.” The lad sounded embarrassed, maybe he was going to ask if he could indulge his rotten taste. “Er … look, I’m really not sure how to say this or even if I should, but I’m getting worried for you. Is something wrong? I mean, you didn’t used to be the type to buy company that much. Always preferred to let the women start the chase and come after you, unless you were looking to scratch an itch quickly and there were no better prospects on offer. No man’s as itchy as to go at it like you’ve been these past few weeks.”
Jocelyn stared at him. Bloody. Hell.
Alain tugged at the front of his tunic as if he thought it sat wrongly at the neck. “Er … well …. Look, you and the lady Richildis are always arguing. I’ve never seen it get to you like this.” He added very hastily, “If that’s what this is. Maybe it’s not. Could be something else. I’m only guessing, and I don’t mean offence.”
Jocelyn stared. The stare might have had some malice in it, hard to tell from his own point of view.
“Thing is, my lord … well.” The lad sighed and pushed his hands through his short hair. “Thing is women say all sorts of things like that when they’re upset and wanting to hurt. Kick to the proverbial balls. They know insulting our prowess in that area’s going to hit us hard. So they say things even if they aren’t true.”
Jocelyn stared. If Alain thought this maybe others did too …?
“You’re not going to find proof she’s wrong in the arms of some trollop you’ve brought.”
Jocelyn stared. If a divine hand wasn’t shielding him then he was a Muslim, and many thanks indeed to the kind owner of that hand, bless them. Aid through difficult times was always taken to mean things like battles and kings dropping dead while in your care, not things like your charming wife putting her foot firmly in your groin, proverbially speaking, while everyone watched, so he appreciated the attention immensely. It might be a good idea if he undertook that pilgrimage he’d promised to do after all … when it was convenient. Not that he didn’t want to go out of his way to pay his debt – far from it! More like it would be sinful to abandon the greater cause to attend to his own individual and highly personal affairs. “Yes,” he agreed. “They do say all sorts of things which they don’t mean, don’t they?” He wasn’t lying, he explained to his heavenly champion. Tildis did say things she didn’t mean. It might not have been the case this particular time, yet the precedent was there.
“Yes,” said Alain, sounding immensely relieved.
Perfect, so far as anything could be perfect after what that damned bitch said. Seems like everyone who heard it thought he’d taken a knock to the pride, not that it was Tildis’ real opinion. “It was so unexpected.” Aye – he’d have shut her up if he’d had warning. “And I’ve always put a lot of import on making sure she’s happy.” And he did, he indignantly told his heavenly benefactor. The amount of money he’d spent on presents for her so she’d stop complaining about this, that or the other!
“And I expect you’re missing her too.”
Miss her!? Never! Why, he never so much as thought about the damned woman. Time for a change of subject. “Anyway, get off with you and see if this captain we’re looking for is here.”
Oh, good grief! :laughs at Jocelyn: That man needs help!
Yes, contrary to what seems to be the modern idea, the medieval preference was for smaller breasts. Apple-sized seems to have been the general ideal, to go by the writing of the time.
:grumble: I had other plans fore the evening. Did Jocelyn care? No. :grumble: These characters have no consideration for the poor, weary frog who has been looking forward to an evening’s reading for days now. I wanted to read my nice new copy of the recently published ‘The Lies of Locke Lamora’, been hearing so many good things about it. :grumble: Now I might manage 100 pages at best, if I don’t doze off.
And I’ve got a load of classics to read, since we’re trying to get hold of a range of them for the shop and I feel incredibly ignorant if anyone asks me anything about any of the classics and I don’t know the answer. Heh, I haven’t actually read many of the classics, so maybe I should be more pleased at being able to answer any questions at all. I’ve got 21 of them to read, including the oh so brief and lightweight ‘War and Peace’, here split into three volumes so it doesn’t break the reader’s arms. I don’t even know which book to start with; there’s none which appeals to me more than the others, which is not to say that none of them interest me, just that none of them leap out at me.
Chargone: It makes sense. Myself, I'd have done something about Malcolm sooner, so it might have done some good. But then I sympathise with Malcom here, finding out how badly he has been lied to over several things and how badly his father has trampled over his beliefs of right and wrong.
Yes, Hugh taking a mistress was a poor choice. It was done for acceptable (by the standards of the day) reasons (needing to assert his rank by having something no one else in his army does, trying to get a child to prove his fertility and hopefully work alongside his heir, following the accepted practice for a man away from his wife for a long period of time) and he continues it for those reasons and out of consideration of how badly it would reflect on her if he dropped her so quickly, which means he's stuck in a situation he cannot really win in and which only makes him feel worse.
Avernite: There’s three people involved in that scenario: the one who parks the car, the one who drives the train, and the one who operates the signals … Who has the most control over things? And who is the one who will die if the train hits the car?
No, she’s not being stupid at all. And there are many ways this could go, many ways, and when they are publicly paired together it is certain Fulk will be able to stand at her side now whatever comes. So better not mail those fanclub resignations At least, not For Nell and Fulk. In almost all ways their chance at power is just beginning …
Alain pulled the folds of his cloak forward to protect his clothing from the weather. “It’s the first time it’s rained since we got here, my lord. You’re thinking of when we were going through Normandy; it rained for a couple of days then.”
Damn him if he wasn’t right, and damn him for being right. The youth crossed a rut in the unpaved street with a single stride; lacking his spindly long legs Jocelyn took a slight detour. He nearly collided with a townsman taking the same detour in the opposite direction. The man started to curse Jocelyn as a blind lout, until his mind worked out what the good clothing and sword meant. “Damn it,” Jocelyn grumbled once back at his squire’s side, “the people here have no manners.”
“They’ve no manners anywhere,” said the squire cheerfully.
“True, that. Bloody disgraceful.”
The raindrops picked up frequency; Jocelyn wrapped his own cloak about himself, ducked his head down and speeded up into something midway between a walk and a headlong charge.
A few streets further along and they found the tavern with the sign of a mermaid. The place was unadventurously called ‘The Mermaid’ by its owner; everyone else called it ‘The Fishy Lady’. He’d been told it was a reputable, clean place with good service and edible food; it was also where he’d find the captain of a merchant vassal set to sail on the morning tide for Perth.
The interior was dim, one of the serving women was beginning to light the torches slung in wall brackets to compensate for the greyness the rain was bringing with it. Several tables stood empty, the others filled with sailors, townsmen skiving off work, a few soldiers, and other miscellaneous common folk.
Jocelyn claimed the empty corner table, sitting with his sword arranged so it would be easy to draw. Alain did likewise. A woman hurried over, either the service was as good as claimed or – more likely – she saw their obvious status.
“Lordships.” Her curtsey went deep, and wobbled. Which set other assets wobbling too. God’s toe! Some things were meant to be small, neatly formed and pert, not flopping and jiggling about all over the place! The ideal of feminine beauty said small breasts were the most desirable, and it was something Jocelyn had never felt inclined to argue with. It was like seeing someone being hideously mutilated – he couldn’t look away, however much he wanted to. She noticed where he was looking and dimpled with a practised smile. Bloody hell again – this place was supposed to be nice, the sort of place you could take your wife into without fear. He’d wanted nice, he’d been hoping for nice, just for a change and a rest, and sod it if it made him an old man. “You’ll want some wine, not ale?” Her smile didn’t let up.
Wife – if Tildis could see him now she’d be going on for damned ages, saying his eyes were about to pop out and fall down the front of the woman’s dress, which plainly wasn’t true. To prove the miserable cow wrong he tore his gaze away. “Yes. Wine. Good wine.”
“Of course, only the best. And if there’s anything else you want …”
“Not at present.”
She left, after another animated curtsey, swaying across the floor in a way which, in the language of flirtation, meant he was on to something.
“Jesù!” said Alain in a hushed, excited whisper. “She was all …!” His hands made some very complex gestures, forming a rough outline of the barmaid’s figure. “Jesù!”
Jocelyn just grunted and reassessed what he knew of his squire’s taste in women: it was declining.
Their drinks were delivered with another smile and more of that walk; she departed with another smile and more of that walk. Jocelyn thought a whole lot of very bad words; now he’d practically have no choice but to fork out yet more money he didn’t want to spend on some woman he didn’t want simply because his men kept on almost definitely – the fact he hadn’t caught one doing it didn’t mean the sly bastards weren’t, damn their insolence! - giving him funny looks over what Richildis had said. Damn it, damn it, damn it! He was beginning to wonder if the general effect of eating too much of the same food applied to women too; he was certainly losing interest in them, just like that time he’d eaten salt beef every day for a month nearly during a siege. God, he hoped not – he still couldn’t eat salt beef without feeling ill afterwards.
Alain cleared his throat. “My lord.” The lad sounded embarrassed, maybe he was going to ask if he could indulge his rotten taste. “Er … look, I’m really not sure how to say this or even if I should, but I’m getting worried for you. Is something wrong? I mean, you didn’t used to be the type to buy company that much. Always preferred to let the women start the chase and come after you, unless you were looking to scratch an itch quickly and there were no better prospects on offer. No man’s as itchy as to go at it like you’ve been these past few weeks.”
Jocelyn stared at him. Bloody. Hell.
Alain tugged at the front of his tunic as if he thought it sat wrongly at the neck. “Er … well …. Look, you and the lady Richildis are always arguing. I’ve never seen it get to you like this.” He added very hastily, “If that’s what this is. Maybe it’s not. Could be something else. I’m only guessing, and I don’t mean offence.”
Jocelyn stared. The stare might have had some malice in it, hard to tell from his own point of view.
“Thing is, my lord … well.” The lad sighed and pushed his hands through his short hair. “Thing is women say all sorts of things like that when they’re upset and wanting to hurt. Kick to the proverbial balls. They know insulting our prowess in that area’s going to hit us hard. So they say things even if they aren’t true.”
Jocelyn stared. If Alain thought this maybe others did too …?
“You’re not going to find proof she’s wrong in the arms of some trollop you’ve brought.”
Jocelyn stared. If a divine hand wasn’t shielding him then he was a Muslim, and many thanks indeed to the kind owner of that hand, bless them. Aid through difficult times was always taken to mean things like battles and kings dropping dead while in your care, not things like your charming wife putting her foot firmly in your groin, proverbially speaking, while everyone watched, so he appreciated the attention immensely. It might be a good idea if he undertook that pilgrimage he’d promised to do after all … when it was convenient. Not that he didn’t want to go out of his way to pay his debt – far from it! More like it would be sinful to abandon the greater cause to attend to his own individual and highly personal affairs. “Yes,” he agreed. “They do say all sorts of things which they don’t mean, don’t they?” He wasn’t lying, he explained to his heavenly champion. Tildis did say things she didn’t mean. It might not have been the case this particular time, yet the precedent was there.
“Yes,” said Alain, sounding immensely relieved.
Perfect, so far as anything could be perfect after what that damned bitch said. Seems like everyone who heard it thought he’d taken a knock to the pride, not that it was Tildis’ real opinion. “It was so unexpected.” Aye – he’d have shut her up if he’d had warning. “And I’ve always put a lot of import on making sure she’s happy.” And he did, he indignantly told his heavenly benefactor. The amount of money he’d spent on presents for her so she’d stop complaining about this, that or the other!
“And I expect you’re missing her too.”
Miss her!? Never! Why, he never so much as thought about the damned woman. Time for a change of subject. “Anyway, get off with you and see if this captain we’re looking for is here.”
Oh, good grief! :laughs at Jocelyn: That man needs help!
Yes, contrary to what seems to be the modern idea, the medieval preference was for smaller breasts. Apple-sized seems to have been the general ideal, to go by the writing of the time.
:grumble: I had other plans fore the evening. Did Jocelyn care? No. :grumble: These characters have no consideration for the poor, weary frog who has been looking forward to an evening’s reading for days now. I wanted to read my nice new copy of the recently published ‘The Lies of Locke Lamora’, been hearing so many good things about it. :grumble: Now I might manage 100 pages at best, if I don’t doze off.
And I’ve got a load of classics to read, since we’re trying to get hold of a range of them for the shop and I feel incredibly ignorant if anyone asks me anything about any of the classics and I don’t know the answer. Heh, I haven’t actually read many of the classics, so maybe I should be more pleased at being able to answer any questions at all. I’ve got 21 of them to read, including the oh so brief and lightweight ‘War and Peace’, here split into three volumes so it doesn’t break the reader’s arms. I don’t even know which book to start with; there’s none which appeals to me more than the others, which is not to say that none of them interest me, just that none of them leap out at me.
Chargone: It makes sense. Myself, I'd have done something about Malcolm sooner, so it might have done some good. But then I sympathise with Malcom here, finding out how badly he has been lied to over several things and how badly his father has trampled over his beliefs of right and wrong.
Yes, Hugh taking a mistress was a poor choice. It was done for acceptable (by the standards of the day) reasons (needing to assert his rank by having something no one else in his army does, trying to get a child to prove his fertility and hopefully work alongside his heir, following the accepted practice for a man away from his wife for a long period of time) and he continues it for those reasons and out of consideration of how badly it would reflect on her if he dropped her so quickly, which means he's stuck in a situation he cannot really win in and which only makes him feel worse.
Avernite: There’s three people involved in that scenario: the one who parks the car, the one who drives the train, and the one who operates the signals … Who has the most control over things? And who is the one who will die if the train hits the car?
No, she’s not being stupid at all. And there are many ways this could go, many ways, and when they are publicly paired together it is certain Fulk will be able to stand at her side now whatever comes. So better not mail those fanclub resignations
At least, not For Nell and Fulk. In almost all ways their chance at power is just beginning …
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frogbeastegg said:And no admiration for Trempy's multiple Hugh-squishings either. Simply stunned.
Admiration? That's just everyday work for him.
Ah, devotion when it's convenient. Sounds a lot like modern religion.
I dare say it's bloody stupid still.
Sure, being publically paired is all nice, but I doubt any noble will follow her now, unless they think they can use her, a LOT.
And given who she is, it's unlikely even the most idiotic noble would think that.
And on Joc, he's just being plain old him. Typically thinking all sorts of twisted thoughts that no sane human would come up with in such a short period of time
And yes, I do resign from those fanclubs. Haven't joined one in ages, so if they manage to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, I can allways re-join
Sure, being publically paired is all nice, but I doubt any noble will follow her now, unless they think they can use her, a LOT.
And given who she is, it's unlikely even the most idiotic noble would think that.
And on Joc, he's just being plain old him. Typically thinking all sorts of twisted thoughts that no sane human would come up with in such a short period of time
And yes, I do resign from those fanclubs. Haven't joined one in ages, so if they manage to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, I can allways re-join
Caught up once more and things have certainly moved forward. I have to say, I am a little disappointed that Fulk (and Nell) seemed to jump so quickly at the Scottish King's offer. Hawise had the right of it, I believe. But far be it for nobility to listen to a maid.
Not that doing things their own way would be any easier, and for that perhaps it is the best thing to happen. However, now it seems that Malcolm could possibly become an enemy for the Scottish lands given up and just to be his own mean and nasty self for not getting Nell's hand.
And I have to say, Jocy played himself well during his meeting with Hugh. So now I am left wondering how he will take charge of his lands and what this will have in common with the Nell/Fulk direction.
All of it as interesting as ever, eggy. Good to be back and reading your work!
Not that doing things their own way would be any easier, and for that perhaps it is the best thing to happen. However, now it seems that Malcolm could possibly become an enemy for the Scottish lands given up and just to be his own mean and nasty self for not getting Nell's hand.
And I have to say, Jocy played himself well during his meeting with Hugh. So now I am left wondering how he will take charge of his lands and what this will have in common with the Nell/Fulk direction.
All of it as interesting as ever, eggy. Good to be back and reading your work!
I've finally made it ! this would be the first time I read something so long in plain english, something so close to a thick book.
And to enjoy the least every bit of it, mind you.
Since you requested long ago to be told of how your story appears to the readers, please allow me to point out some parts that seemed strange to me.
(but again i'm no master of understanding english texts)
First : with Trempy. Since the beginning he has revealled to be intelligent and with an excellent sense of observation (as you can expect from someone in his position). He's spent 14 years in close proximity with Eleanor, thus is very well likely to know the beloved regal progeniture in every detail, even if she definitely has some disposition for deception.
Then how could he so badly fail to notice this major part of her personnality : wishing freedom above all ? Well maybe he has not missed it entirely, but it is so obviously absent of his equations, when given his POV. Trempy repeating she would love power ; Trempy being so surprised when he realised how she turned away from him (he could have been hinted by how cruel he was when "correcting" her, imho ) ; Trempy being so confident at his skill of subduing her...
To me the only thing which could explain this would be his pride... of which we are hinted quite late in the story.
Anyway I don't want him to be more annoying than he his, thank you very much, so it's probably better this way
Second : with Eleanor, more precisely physical-love related stuff...
*pulls his nose away from the keyboard, prompted by the sudden lack of polite listening sounds such as 'hmm-hmm'*
*looks around to find where in the hell the one frog just there an instant ago could be now*
*finally narrows his eyes towards a spot in some dark corner*
Ohhhh quit that blushing, froggy, would you ?
and please come back from behind your pillow !
There. Better.
Now where was I ? Ah, yes...
It occurs to me that I was never able to tell how she felt with this idea, at the later parts of the story.
Back in the very beginning we knew that : 1) she depreciated herself physically ; 2) she had that phobia of being crushed, thanks to that delicate brother of hers ; 3) she really had never considered it in an other way that something disgusting ; not to mention that 4) sex was too strongly recalling the idea of being married to be appealing at all for Eleanor.
Then, apart from being shy at showing her body to Fulk - or to look at his overtly - there were barely a few fences left when she bravely told him "I will not refuse you again" ... without any mental step that I am aware of since the state of refusing-the-whole-thing-at-all...
What of her phobia ? really she knows she can trust Fulk not to harm her, but knowing something for sure has never had anything to do with getting rid of anything so deep such as phobia.
And then again : I was trying to deal with the fact that, well, she had changed in this regard and I hadn't notice, only to be brought back, a few updates later, to some of those mental steps earlier : she was the one refusing again for whatever reason, during their travel to Scotland.
I was going to say that some Eleanor POV were missing at that point... but after a check it appears that it was her POV actually in both cases... well... then I don't know how to deal with thoses scenes but somehow I feel they don't fit.
Third : Really, I can't make an opinion out of Hugh. I have wanted to join his fan club about as many times as I have wanted to match with the anti instead. What I caught of him is : somewhat intelligent, lack of self-confidence shielded with the will to behave in the "best" possible way.
The fact he was getting angrier and angrier with Eleanor I really can't get where it's from. You are the puppet master so you know how to pull the strings, but I'm suspicious there is some mechanic part of the puppet that I'm not aware of.
I do remember the scene of Hugh playing Narcisse near the river where Stephan died, revealing some of his dark sides, but to me this is not quite enough to explain his reactions with Eleanor.
Besides, being one of the gooseberry's defender this can only upset me very bad that he behaves so "arsily" with her
Oh yes and the scene where she is slapped violently in front of the court... I though better of Eleanor than stupidly upset Hugh in such a blunt way (telling him "swineherd’s bastard" ... what the hell ?). Was it a calculation ? If it was I didn't get what it was for...
In fact about the whole travel-alone-with-Fulk thing, if it's related (since it begins in the update your posted right after that scene) : I still don't know who was in the secret and who wasn't. (Hugh ? Miles ?)
So many lines in this post to express criticisms and so few to tell how good your work is... but I can't write much there, except perhaps describe the way I gap at every other part of it in awe. *considers the possibility of doing precisely that* well... since i'm no writer I won't.
To answer to an old and dusty question of yours :
I did not suspect Mariot to be Trempwick's spy, even if I read the story considerably less delayed than those who waited for updates after updates.
As some other readers I first thought this was a trick to reveal Godit.
I think that is because you really did not put the spotlight on Mariot...
to say the truth I hardly remembered her name at that time, while I remembered Adele, at least for having been poisonned, or Godit for... being Godit.
Now to speak about a few things that I gathered here and there in the comments :
- The french version of the name Eleanor : "Eléonore", sounds like hay-lay-oh-nor... Trying to use the english spelling and pronounce it in french, as I sometimes heard, would result in a hay-lay-ah-nor. On the contrary there is also the name "Aliénor" which obviously has the same roots, and seems to be an attempt to carve the same sounding as the english name (probably the closest to the archaic one) into french spelling. I think Aliénor would be the true translation, given that "Eleonor of Aquitaine" is "Aliénor d'Aquitaine" in most french references. Aliénor would be scanded (scanded... does this word even exist ? scanted ? chanted ? nevermind...) on 3 syllabs and thus matching your scene in front of London gates
- Jocelyn is very close to the name "Joceline" which is female in France nowadays (and was still quite common as a name when my parents got theirs) which could be why some people have trouble reading it male-form.
Ah... and I hereby join Eleanor, Fulk, feu William, Anne, Constance, Jocelyn, Godit, feu Miles and Malcom fanclubs alike, while secretely adding my name in blood at the bottom of the anti-Trempwick sect list.
Since I'm no royalty, and since I don't know how I could be said landed, I don't have quite the power or prestige required to open a fanclub on my own, but I shall ask my betters here to consider opening a froggy fanclub.
*looks at the length of his post... coughs*
errr... well... keep up the good work
And to enjoy the least every bit of it, mind you.
Since you requested long ago to be told of how your story appears to the readers, please allow me to point out some parts that seemed strange to me.
(but again i'm no master of understanding english texts)
First : with Trempy. Since the beginning he has revealled to be intelligent and with an excellent sense of observation (as you can expect from someone in his position). He's spent 14 years in close proximity with Eleanor, thus is very well likely to know the beloved regal progeniture in every detail, even if she definitely has some disposition for deception.
Then how could he so badly fail to notice this major part of her personnality : wishing freedom above all ? Well maybe he has not missed it entirely, but it is so obviously absent of his equations, when given his POV. Trempy repeating she would love power ; Trempy being so surprised when he realised how she turned away from him (he could have been hinted by how cruel he was when "correcting" her, imho
) ; Trempy being so confident at his skill of subduing her...To me the only thing which could explain this would be his pride... of which we are hinted quite late in the story.
Anyway I don't want him to be more annoying than he his, thank you very much, so it's probably better this way
Second : with Eleanor, more precisely physical-love related stuff...
*pulls his nose away from the keyboard, prompted by the sudden lack of polite listening sounds such as 'hmm-hmm'*
*looks around to find where in the hell the one frog just there an instant ago could be now*
*finally narrows his eyes towards a spot in some dark corner*
Ohhhh quit that blushing, froggy, would you ?
and please come back from behind your pillow !
There. Better.
Now where was I ? Ah, yes...
It occurs to me that I was never able to tell how she felt with this idea, at the later parts of the story.
Back in the very beginning we knew that : 1) she depreciated herself physically ; 2) she had that phobia of being crushed, thanks to that delicate brother of hers ; 3) she really had never considered it in an other way that something disgusting ; not to mention that 4) sex was too strongly recalling the idea of being married to be appealing at all for Eleanor.
Then, apart from being shy at showing her body to Fulk - or to look at his overtly - there were barely a few fences left when she bravely told him "I will not refuse you again" ... without any mental step that I am aware of since the state of refusing-the-whole-thing-at-all...
What of her phobia ? really she knows she can trust Fulk not to harm her, but knowing something for sure has never had anything to do with getting rid of anything so deep such as phobia.
And then again : I was trying to deal with the fact that, well, she had changed in this regard and I hadn't notice, only to be brought back, a few updates later, to some of those mental steps earlier : she was the one refusing again for whatever reason, during their travel to Scotland.
I was going to say that some Eleanor POV were missing at that point... but after a check it appears that it was her POV actually in both cases... well... then I don't know how to deal with thoses scenes but somehow I feel they don't fit.
Third : Really, I can't make an opinion out of Hugh. I have wanted to join his fan club about as many times as I have wanted to match with the anti instead. What I caught of him is : somewhat intelligent, lack of self-confidence shielded with the will to behave in the "best" possible way.
The fact he was getting angrier and angrier with Eleanor I really can't get where it's from. You are the puppet master so you know how to pull the strings, but I'm suspicious there is some mechanic part of the puppet that I'm not aware of.
I do remember the scene of Hugh playing Narcisse near the river where Stephan died, revealing some of his dark sides, but to me this is not quite enough to explain his reactions with Eleanor.
Besides, being one of the gooseberry's defender this can only upset me very bad that he behaves so "arsily" with her
Oh yes and the scene where she is slapped violently in front of the court... I though better of Eleanor than stupidly upset Hugh in such a blunt way (telling him "swineherd’s bastard"
... what the hell ?). Was it a calculation ? If it was I didn't get what it was for...In fact about the whole travel-alone-with-Fulk thing, if it's related (since it begins in the update your posted right after that scene) : I still don't know who was in the secret and who wasn't. (Hugh ? Miles ?)
So many lines in this post to express criticisms and so few to tell how good your work is... but I can't write much there, except perhaps describe the way I gap at every other part of it in awe. *considers the possibility of doing precisely that* well... since i'm no writer I won't.
To answer to an old and dusty question of yours :
I did not suspect Mariot to be Trempwick's spy, even if I read the story considerably less delayed than those who waited for updates after updates.
As some other readers I first thought this was a trick to reveal Godit.
I think that is because you really did not put the spotlight on Mariot...
to say the truth I hardly remembered her name at that time, while I remembered Adele, at least for having been poisonned, or Godit for... being Godit.
Now to speak about a few things that I gathered here and there in the comments :
- The french version of the name Eleanor : "Eléonore", sounds like hay-lay-oh-nor... Trying to use the english spelling and pronounce it in french, as I sometimes heard, would result in a hay-lay-ah-nor. On the contrary there is also the name "Aliénor" which obviously has the same roots, and seems to be an attempt to carve the same sounding as the english name (probably the closest to the archaic one) into french spelling. I think Aliénor would be the true translation, given that "Eleonor of Aquitaine" is "Aliénor d'Aquitaine" in most french references. Aliénor would be scanded (scanded... does this word even exist ? scanted ? chanted ? nevermind...) on 3 syllabs and thus matching your scene in front of London gates
- Jocelyn is very close to the name "Joceline" which is female in France nowadays (and was still quite common as a name when my parents got theirs) which could be why some people have trouble reading it male-form.
Ah... and I hereby join Eleanor, Fulk, feu William, Anne, Constance, Jocelyn, Godit, feu Miles and Malcom fanclubs alike, while secretely adding my name in blood at the bottom of the anti-Trempwick sect list.
Since I'm no royalty, and since I don't know how I could be said landed, I don't have quite the power or prestige required to open a fanclub on my own, but I shall ask my betters here to consider opening a froggy fanclub.
*looks at the length of his post... coughs*
errr... well... keep up the good work
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ahh, new reader=good.
Joining anti-trempy club=bad
Oh, and I like your idea, and hereby found the froggy fanclub! Hurray!
Joining anti-trempy club=bad
Oh, and I like your idea, and hereby found the froggy fanclub! Hurray!
Hmmm, I can't say I am truly surprised, but then I could see no possible reason why Malcolm wanted to increase the stature of Fulk, other than an "elevation".
Also, I am aware of several historical precedents in Scotland for almost the same action. (10th-11th century precedents, but still..)
Hmm, help me here. Is there any blood relationship between Malcolm and the English royal house? If so, what connection is it?
What, at the moment, is the Scottish Royal family? Malcolm, Mal jr., Anne, Grandma? Brothers to the king? Cousins?
The English family is very small, even with the bastard children over in Europe. Of course any legitimate children of Eleanor's sisters would be in line for the English throne.
Thoughts, thrones, dominations...
Fine writing Froggy!
What are the classics you are referring to? (Which ones, in this case.)
Personally I find W&P vastly overrated, but I have an intense dislike for Russian literature... One of my many failings.
DW
Also, I am aware of several historical precedents in Scotland for almost the same action. (10th-11th century precedents, but still..)
Hmm, help me here. Is there any blood relationship between Malcolm and the English royal house? If so, what connection is it?
What, at the moment, is the Scottish Royal family? Malcolm, Mal jr., Anne, Grandma? Brothers to the king? Cousins?
The English family is very small, even with the bastard children over in Europe. Of course any legitimate children of Eleanor's sisters would be in line for the English throne.
Thoughts, thrones, dominations...
Fine writing Froggy!
What are the classics you are referring to? (Which ones, in this case.)
Personally I find W&P vastly overrated, but I have an intense dislike for Russian literature... One of my many failings.
DW
“If the lady wishes to leave the castle, yet will not surrender to me, then she may leap from the parapets.” Hugh spoke the hideous words as though he were giving his groom permission to unsaddle his horse. My the Lord forgive him. “If she survives the fall – and she will not – I will have my men scrape up whatsoever is left and bring it to me, as my prisoner.” The lady was Trempwick’s mother. She had chosen to meddle, leaving the safer position of Salcey to try and raise more men at arms for her son. Now she would pay the price
The castellan of Rochester already resembled an armour stand, so spear shaft straight with dislike did he carry himself on his mission. His not quite concealed scorn lifted, transmuting to not quite concealed consternation. “And what of the other women and the children?”
“The same path is open to them.” Hugh gave the enemy commander a second to absorb this. “You will surrender to me now, or the siege shall begin. Once it begins there will be no mercy. Taken by storm I shall turn the place over to my troops for sport; taken by surrender I shall execute you for a traitor, and seize anything within those walls worth more than a farthing. As,” he added softly, “is the convention of war.” They had thought him soft, in heart and in head, to ask for the mother, the women and the children to be let go. Fewer mouths to feed would allow the castle to hold out for longer; a lack of innocents to worry for would make defiance easier; there would be fewer voices counselling surrender, afeared of what would come if relief did not arrive, for Hugh had demonstrated his words were far from empty.
A king must be hard, save for when it profited him to be soft. Some must burn so others could be saved.
The castellan shook his head. “Our walls are strong, our cellars well stocked. My lord will come. I cannot be a traitor for supporting my queen, Sir Bastard, only for betraying her.”
“So be it. I shall hang you, when we meet next.”
The men parted, one riding back to his castle, the other to his army, each followed by the five attendants this conference midway between the forces had permitted.
Rochester was strong, very. It was one of the lynchpins of the area. Having cleared the surrounding area insofar as was possible, Hugh would now leave a detachment of his army here to fight a war of waiting while he led the other half to further action.
Holiday next week, holiday next week, holiday next week! Wee! An entire week off! Woo! Yay! And so on. No, seriously, I started this job not quite 11 months ago and haven’t had a single day of holiday in that time, just ordinary days off.
Thought I had better come bearing a new story part, since it’s been long enough for people to hope I have one if I post here now. Frogs who want to live a long and happy life don’t get their reader’s hopes up and then dash them by posting nothing but a response to comments.
Judas: Alright, I shall let you off then.
I’m going to agree with Cliffracer: it’s human nature to be bone idle where possible
Avernite: Ah well. I’m afraid I’d have to say she was being bloody stupid if she allowed herself to be made a vindictive man’s puppet queen of a realm she doesn’t want and the wife of Mr Nefastus. Heh, I’d have to say she was bloody stupid if she did anything which made her Malcolm’s wife!
Not that I think this is the smartest thing she’s done in her young life, you understand.
I do think it all gets very ... busy following this path. In a good way. Hope you will find the same
Coz1: :squints at titles: Demi moderator? Congratulations.
The alternative to the fairly quick jump was pages of them dithering before deciding the same, basically much the same thing but twice the length and boring.
Hawise offers no advice. She only comments both choices are bad, there’s no sensible option, and it’s not her place to have any say in it.
Ah, and don’t forget Malcolm’s new grudges against his father … Boy, do they have potential
TiPou: Wow! To steal your format:
First Trempy is blinded by his pride. He also sees power differently to Nell; he views it as a giver of freedom, not as a limiter. He believes she will view it the same way, if only she gives it some thought. From his point of view she could very well be doing that – without him she would have more power because in their relationship he has always held the dominant position. Many of her actions since leaving Trempy can be interpreted as a bid for power. It could even be said she wants Fulk as her husband because he will be a very junior partner, unable to take anything from her.
Second :says from behind her pillow: No! It’s a nice pillow. I like it back here.
Um, I hate this aspect. It’s an absolute swine to write. That’s before you take into consideration that it is the kind of thing I dislike writing. I’m used to writing things I haven’t experienced personally; the story is packed with them. None of them are a roiling cauldron full of explosive, contradictory ingredients like this! I have never believed I have got it quite right; it’s always been something which needs editing.
She’s scarred, she’s used to being slighted, obviously doesn’t make her a great believer in her desirability. She thinks Fulk will be revolted if he gets a good look. Some things would involve Fulk getting a good look Simple enough. Easy to write.
She has all the usual fears of the unknown we poor females tend to end up with to some degree. Hers are closer to the extreme end of the scale than the calmer one. Still simple enough.
She’s got a lovely fear of being crushed. Actually this one is very easy – it’s just an exaggeration of one of those normal fears. It wasn’t a phobia, just a strong fear. This is practically gone by now; she’s getting to like the proximity.
She loves the man something stupid, but knows he’s well travelled and she’s not, ergo she thinks she will be a disappointment. Fine, I can manage that. Again, mostly normal for the situation.
All her life sex has been bound up in terms of limitation. Consummate this marriage to that unwanted husband and live with his whims until someone dies. Not tempting for a gooseberry. Even with Fulk there’s an aspect of being subject to his whims; she’s not convinced that can be good. Can handle it.
She’s frequently told that her chances of surviving childbirth are next to none. So it’s dicing with death, relying on unreliable herbal contraception. I can handle it, but there’s getting to be a lot of balls to juggle now.
She fears Fulk will lose interest after a bit; she can’t bear the thought. Can do it, but come on, I only have so many hands!
She also knows however much he loves her she is likely to lose him if she keeps him dangling about at semi-arm’s length. :sigh: Can handle it, but it’s getting a strain.
Then there’s the value of her virginity. She’s spent her life acutely aware of how much that’s worth. Also the general condemnation of women taking lovers, especially before marriage. Gah, too many balls, if you’ll forgive the pun.
That goes hand in hand with her, ahem, education on these things. Can anyone see Trempy managing to do a decent “Useful facts of life for princesses” lecture? Me neither. The man would die of embarrassment; Nell has learned that much from him. There’s not been anyone else in her life to do it. The way she has grown up hardly helps: surrounded by a few men with precious little female company.
Let’s be honest, thus far her experience isn’t terribly encouraging. Trempy had ulterior motives. Fulk is trying not to repeat his past mistakes, scare her, or push her into something she’ll regret; above all he knows she is of a mixed mind on the subject. Broadly speaking – there’s more to the knight’s side of things, and it’s not quite right to discuss that here.
The idea doesn’t exactly appeal. At the same time it does, very much. She’s crazy about the stupid knight, the idea appeals, but the baggage puts her off. She wants to, and doesn’t want to. This ball happens to be weighted with lead and has spikes on the outside. It’s so hard to get the balance right. In a moment she can go from wanting to to not. It’s hellish to write, especially from an external POV.
Like many such feelings, these are not consistent. She’s dumping the responsibility on Fulk, sometimes. “I’m not going to protest, so get it over with; I’m too scared to do anything.” almost. From time to time she gets the idea that she has to, to make him happy, from duty, to keep him, a “I know you want to; I’ll suffer bravely for your sake.” sort of thing. Then she remembers who she is, or something else which sends her right back into “Gah! No way!”
You know, there’s such a lot of it I have probably forgotten something.
It’s a lot to have boiling and it’s kept to a few limited places through the story, from near the beginning right up to now and beyond. Worse, it’s being told mainly in scenes I don’t like writing, don’t have much skill at doing, and hardly know what I am doing with. I’m not completely happy with how it is working. There are bits coming up which fill me with sheer terror, because of what I’m going to have to do with this!
Third The oldest cause of all: he’s jealous. The differences between them become more obvious as time passes, and no one will ever doubt her parentage. He’s also made unhappy by the fact she brought out the worst in William, and that she flouts what is seen as the natural order. Someone with such an attachment to tradition and propriety can’t be happy with a sister like Nell.
The “swineherd’s bastard” comment was part of their plan. It gave the one who took her place for the trip to Scotland to stay mostly hidden away, and knowing that the story would spread like wildfire anyone looking for Eleanor would be expecting someone with a bruised face. A staged fight which went too far, thanks to her having one of her moments and losing her temper, causing Hugh to do the same. She was supposed to get what looked like a good slap to the face followed by some time away from the hall for what would be presumed to be a beating, not a split lip and an actual bruise.
Hugh, Miles, Anne, Constance, Hawise, Mariot, Godit, Adele were in on the secret. In the case of the latter three it was in the hope the spy would slip and betray herself. Which Mariot did, though it was only clear when suspicion already landed on her.
Er, looking back I have no idea how I arrived at Eléonore; I know full well that Aliénor is the French version, sometimes spelt as Alianore. I can only conclude I was very tired, and picked the wrong edition from the collection of choices Word offered to me. Because it’s so hard to add in the accents and spell the unfamiliar foreign names correctly I do it the once, put it in Word as a correct spelling, then use the spell checker tool to change it to the edition with the accents. I do it with words like Jesù too.
Dead William: ! Yes, just an exclamation mark. “I am aware of several historical precedents in Scotland for almost the same action.” Really!? I need books on medieval Scotland! I have only lesser cases, such as Margery Paston and the bailiff she married. Now where can I find a good book on medieval Scotland …? :resolves to find one:
Aside from the Anne/William connection there are no Scottish/English royal ties until you get to the generation which came before William’s.
The Scottish royal family is: Malcolm the Elder, Malcolm Nefastus, Anne, James the baby brother, one granny who is Malcolm the Elder’s mother. Not seen or so far mentioned are a couple of cousins, and an aunt. There have been others but they are dead or occupy a position like Nell’s sisters: so far away and for so long they don’t quite count now.
William generally avoided spawning bastards, preferring to keep things neat and tidy. He ended up with two, for various reasons a frog knows but can’t see the point in elaborating as they have no bearing on anything unless I am telling the story of William’s younger life. One fell victim to the high infant mortality rate, the other was later Trempwicked. Oh, I do like the sounds of that: Trempwicked.
The classics are:
Jane Austin: Emma, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Sense and Sensibility, Northanger Abby
Charles Dickens: David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, Bleak House, Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations, Christmas Carol and The Other Two Christmas stories, Nicholas Nickleby.
Misc:
Crime and Punishment
Lady Chatterley’s Lover (Gah!)
War and Peace
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
Jane Eyre
Wurthering Heights
Machiavelli’s The Prince and Art of War
Rob Roy
Ivanhoe
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
The Great Gatsby
Vanity Fair
Not precisely a classic but generally considered to be getting there: Gone with the Wind
Think that’s all of them. I’ve read David Copperfield and Oliver Twist before; abridged editions cunningly disguised as full ones. I’ve read about half of Pride and Prejudice, and have seen the famous 6 hour BBC adaptation a few times. I’ve started and dropped Ivanhoe several times over the years; it’s the only classic I’ve approached and not really got on with. I think it’s the atrocious historical accuracy mixed with the ‘Thou hast’iness of the language; mock medieval has always irritated me. Other than that the list is but a selection from the 372 books I own and have yet to read.
Fanclub updates:
Trempy: 3 members
Anne: 2 members
Fulk: 6 members (Following his gooseberry’s example)
Nell: 6 members (Saying some nasty things about Avernite leaving and thus dumping Fulk and her own clubs equal with that dreadful Godit and the clearly insane Jocelyn. Also muttering a few things about traitors being hung if they show their faces again)
Godit: 6 members (Not Happy – the princess gets the knight!!)
Constance: 3 members
Hugh: 2 members (looking sideways at all the excitement surrounding his sister and wondering What The Heck Is Going On!)
Jocelyn: 6 members
Richildis: 1 member
Miles: 3 members
Hawise: 2 members
Mahaut: 1 member
William : 1 member (saying loudly, “What? So I have to be dead before I get a fan club?! What is the world coming to?”)
Malcolm Nefastus: 4 members (thinking that with a few more members and some sharp implements he can make a push for the top spot)
Anti-Trempy: 4 members
Anti-Aveline: 1 member
Anti-Hugh: 1 member
The frog club: 2 members.
The castellan of Rochester already resembled an armour stand, so spear shaft straight with dislike did he carry himself on his mission. His not quite concealed scorn lifted, transmuting to not quite concealed consternation. “And what of the other women and the children?”
“The same path is open to them.” Hugh gave the enemy commander a second to absorb this. “You will surrender to me now, or the siege shall begin. Once it begins there will be no mercy. Taken by storm I shall turn the place over to my troops for sport; taken by surrender I shall execute you for a traitor, and seize anything within those walls worth more than a farthing. As,” he added softly, “is the convention of war.” They had thought him soft, in heart and in head, to ask for the mother, the women and the children to be let go. Fewer mouths to feed would allow the castle to hold out for longer; a lack of innocents to worry for would make defiance easier; there would be fewer voices counselling surrender, afeared of what would come if relief did not arrive, for Hugh had demonstrated his words were far from empty.
A king must be hard, save for when it profited him to be soft. Some must burn so others could be saved.
The castellan shook his head. “Our walls are strong, our cellars well stocked. My lord will come. I cannot be a traitor for supporting my queen, Sir Bastard, only for betraying her.”
“So be it. I shall hang you, when we meet next.”
The men parted, one riding back to his castle, the other to his army, each followed by the five attendants this conference midway between the forces had permitted.
Rochester was strong, very. It was one of the lynchpins of the area. Having cleared the surrounding area insofar as was possible, Hugh would now leave a detachment of his army here to fight a war of waiting while he led the other half to further action.
Holiday next week, holiday next week, holiday next week! Wee! An entire week off! Woo! Yay! And so on.
No, seriously, I started this job not quite 11 months ago and haven’t had a single day of holiday in that time, just ordinary days off.Thought I had better come bearing a new story part, since it’s been long enough for people to hope I have one if I post here now. Frogs who want to live a long and happy life don’t get their reader’s hopes up and then dash them by posting nothing but a response to comments.
Judas: Alright, I shall let you off then.
I’m going to agree with Cliffracer: it’s human nature to be bone idle where possible
Avernite: Ah well. I’m afraid I’d have to say she was being bloody stupid if she allowed herself to be made a vindictive man’s puppet queen of a realm she doesn’t want and the wife of Mr Nefastus. Heh, I’d have to say she was bloody stupid if she did anything which made her Malcolm’s wife!
Not that I think this is the smartest thing she’s done in her young life, you understand.
I do think it all gets very ... busy following this path. In a good way. Hope you will find the same
Coz1: :squints at titles: Demi moderator? Congratulations.
The alternative to the fairly quick jump was pages of them dithering before deciding the same, basically much the same thing but twice the length and boring.
Hawise offers no advice. She only comments both choices are bad, there’s no sensible option, and it’s not her place to have any say in it.
Ah, and don’t forget Malcolm’s new grudges against his father … Boy, do they have potential
TiPou: Wow! To steal your format:
First Trempy is blinded by his pride. He also sees power differently to Nell; he views it as a giver of freedom, not as a limiter. He believes she will view it the same way, if only she gives it some thought. From his point of view she could very well be doing that – without him she would have more power because in their relationship he has always held the dominant position. Many of her actions since leaving Trempy can be interpreted as a bid for power. It could even be said she wants Fulk as her husband because he will be a very junior partner, unable to take anything from her.
Second :says from behind her pillow: No! It’s a nice pillow. I like it back here.
Um, I hate this aspect. It’s an absolute swine to write. That’s before you take into consideration that it is the kind of thing I dislike writing. I’m used to writing things I haven’t experienced personally; the story is packed with them. None of them are a roiling cauldron full of explosive, contradictory ingredients like this! I have never believed I have got it quite right; it’s always been something which needs editing.
She’s scarred, she’s used to being slighted, obviously doesn’t make her a great believer in her desirability. She thinks Fulk will be revolted if he gets a good look. Some things would involve Fulk getting a good look
Simple enough. Easy to write. She has all the usual fears of the unknown we poor females tend to end up with to some degree. Hers are closer to the extreme end of the scale than the calmer one. Still simple enough.
She’s got a lovely fear of being crushed. Actually this one is very easy – it’s just an exaggeration of one of those normal fears. It wasn’t a phobia, just a strong fear. This is practically gone by now; she’s getting to like the proximity.
She loves the man something stupid, but knows he’s well travelled and she’s not, ergo she thinks she will be a disappointment. Fine, I can manage that. Again, mostly normal for the situation.
All her life sex has been bound up in terms of limitation. Consummate this marriage to that unwanted husband and live with his whims until someone dies. Not tempting for a gooseberry. Even with Fulk there’s an aspect of being subject to his whims; she’s not convinced that can be good. Can handle it.
She’s frequently told that her chances of surviving childbirth are next to none. So it’s dicing with death, relying on unreliable herbal contraception. I can handle it, but there’s getting to be a lot of balls to juggle now.
She fears Fulk will lose interest after a bit; she can’t bear the thought. Can do it, but come on, I only have so many hands!
She also knows however much he loves her she is likely to lose him if she keeps him dangling about at semi-arm’s length. :sigh: Can handle it, but it’s getting a strain.
Then there’s the value of her virginity. She’s spent her life acutely aware of how much that’s worth. Also the general condemnation of women taking lovers, especially before marriage. Gah, too many balls, if you’ll forgive the pun.
That goes hand in hand with her, ahem, education on these things. Can anyone see Trempy managing to do a decent “Useful facts of life for princesses” lecture? Me neither. The man would die of embarrassment; Nell has learned that much from him. There’s not been anyone else in her life to do it. The way she has grown up hardly helps: surrounded by a few men with precious little female company.
Let’s be honest, thus far her experience isn’t terribly encouraging. Trempy had ulterior motives. Fulk is trying not to repeat his past mistakes, scare her, or push her into something she’ll regret; above all he knows she is of a mixed mind on the subject. Broadly speaking – there’s more to the knight’s side of things, and it’s not quite right to discuss that here.
The idea doesn’t exactly appeal. At the same time it does, very much. She’s crazy about the stupid knight, the idea appeals, but the baggage puts her off. She wants to, and doesn’t want to. This ball happens to be weighted with lead and has spikes on the outside. It’s so hard to get the balance right. In a moment she can go from wanting to to not. It’s hellish to write, especially from an external POV.
Like many such feelings, these are not consistent. She’s dumping the responsibility on Fulk, sometimes. “I’m not going to protest, so get it over with; I’m too scared to do anything.” almost. From time to time she gets the idea that she has to, to make him happy, from duty, to keep him, a “I know you want to; I’ll suffer bravely for your sake.” sort of thing. Then she remembers who she is, or something else which sends her right back into “Gah! No way!”
You know, there’s such a lot of it I have probably forgotten something.
It’s a lot to have boiling and it’s kept to a few limited places through the story, from near the beginning right up to now and beyond. Worse, it’s being told mainly in scenes I don’t like writing, don’t have much skill at doing, and hardly know what I am doing with. I’m not completely happy with how it is working. There are bits coming up which fill me with sheer terror, because of what I’m going to have to do with this!
Third The oldest cause of all: he’s jealous. The differences between them become more obvious as time passes, and no one will ever doubt her parentage. He’s also made unhappy by the fact she brought out the worst in William, and that she flouts what is seen as the natural order. Someone with such an attachment to tradition and propriety can’t be happy with a sister like Nell.
The “swineherd’s bastard” comment was part of their plan. It gave the one who took her place for the trip to Scotland to stay mostly hidden away, and knowing that the story would spread like wildfire anyone looking for Eleanor would be expecting someone with a bruised face. A staged fight which went too far, thanks to her having one of her moments and losing her temper, causing Hugh to do the same. She was supposed to get what looked like a good slap to the face followed by some time away from the hall for what would be presumed to be a beating, not a split lip and an actual bruise.
Hugh, Miles, Anne, Constance, Hawise, Mariot, Godit, Adele were in on the secret. In the case of the latter three it was in the hope the spy would slip and betray herself. Which Mariot did, though it was only clear when suspicion already landed on her.
Er, looking back I have no idea how I arrived at Eléonore; I know full well that Aliénor is the French version, sometimes spelt as Alianore. I can only conclude I was very tired, and picked the wrong edition from the collection of choices Word offered to me. Because it’s so hard to add in the accents and spell the unfamiliar foreign names correctly I do it the once, put it in Word as a correct spelling, then use the spell checker tool to change it to the edition with the accents. I do it with words like Jesù too.
Dead William: ! Yes, just an exclamation mark. “I am aware of several historical precedents in Scotland for almost the same action.” Really!? I need books on medieval Scotland! I have only lesser cases, such as Margery Paston and the bailiff she married. Now where can I find a good book on medieval Scotland …? :resolves to find one:
Aside from the Anne/William connection there are no Scottish/English royal ties until you get to the generation which came before William’s.
The Scottish royal family is: Malcolm the Elder, Malcolm Nefastus, Anne, James the baby brother, one granny who is Malcolm the Elder’s mother. Not seen or so far mentioned are a couple of cousins, and an aunt. There have been others but they are dead or occupy a position like Nell’s sisters: so far away and for so long they don’t quite count now.
William generally avoided spawning bastards, preferring to keep things neat and tidy. He ended up with two, for various reasons a frog knows but can’t see the point in elaborating as they have no bearing on anything unless I am telling the story of William’s younger life. One fell victim to the high infant mortality rate, the other was later Trempwicked. Oh, I do like the sounds of that: Trempwicked.
The classics are:
Jane Austin: Emma, Persuasion, Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Sense and Sensibility, Northanger Abby
Charles Dickens: David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, Bleak House, Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations, Christmas Carol and The Other Two Christmas stories, Nicholas Nickleby.
Misc:
Crime and Punishment
Lady Chatterley’s Lover (Gah!)
War and Peace
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
Jane Eyre
Wurthering Heights
Machiavelli’s The Prince and Art of War
Rob Roy
Ivanhoe
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
The Great Gatsby
Vanity Fair
Not precisely a classic but generally considered to be getting there: Gone with the Wind
Think that’s all of them. I’ve read David Copperfield and Oliver Twist before; abridged editions cunningly disguised as full ones. I’ve read about half of Pride and Prejudice, and have seen the famous 6 hour BBC adaptation a few times. I’ve started and dropped Ivanhoe several times over the years; it’s the only classic I’ve approached and not really got on with. I think it’s the atrocious historical accuracy mixed with the ‘Thou hast’iness of the language; mock medieval has always irritated me. Other than that the list is but a selection from the 372 books I own and have yet to read.
Fanclub updates:
Trempy: 3 members
Anne: 2 members
Fulk: 6 members (Following his gooseberry’s example)
Nell: 6 members (Saying some nasty things about Avernite leaving and thus dumping Fulk and her own clubs equal with that dreadful Godit and the clearly insane Jocelyn. Also muttering a few things about traitors being hung if they show their faces again)
Godit: 6 members (Not Happy – the princess gets the knight!!)
Constance: 3 members
Hugh: 2 members (looking sideways at all the excitement surrounding his sister and wondering What The Heck Is Going On!)
Jocelyn: 6 members
Richildis: 1 member
Miles: 3 members
Hawise: 2 members
Mahaut: 1 member
William : 1 member (saying loudly, “What? So I have to be dead before I get a fan club?! What is the world coming to?”)
Malcolm Nefastus: 4 members (thinking that with a few more members and some sharp implements he can make a push for the top spot)
Anti-Trempy: 4 members
Anti-Aveline: 1 member
Anti-Hugh: 1 member
The frog club: 2 members.
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Short but interesting. Hugh's still up to his usual tricks...
Since I can't imagine you people celebrating July 4 in the UK, which holiday is it? Or is it just a random week off to enjoy the summer?
frogbeastegg said:Holiday next week, holiday next week, holiday next week! Wee! An entire week off! Woo! Yay! And so on.
Since I can't imagine you people celebrating July 4 in the UK, which holiday is it? Or is it just a random week off to enjoy the summer?
frogbeastegg...
I'm not even a lurker - I just recently began reading this epic work. And having got to the end of page 5 (will I ever catch up ) I have one thought to add on the 'evil-writer offering hints to upcoming events'.
It's probably been covered and recovered by now.
But I think Fulk was the boy his father died saving.
Anyway, that done, I'm back off into the shadows to read more
EDIT: Now finished page 9, and that secret is already out not so far ahead as I hoped...
I'm not even a lurker - I just recently began reading this epic work. And having got to the end of page 5 (will I ever catch up
) I have one thought to add on the 'evil-writer offering hints to upcoming events'.It's probably been covered and recovered by now.
But I think Fulk was the boy his father died saving.
Anyway, that done, I'm back off into the shadows to read more
EDIT: Now finished page 9, and that secret is already out
not so far ahead as I hoped...
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So Hugh has Trempy's mommie. Seems more than just a "slight" update. Somehow, the two seem perfect for one another.
And speaking of holidays, I've just been conversing with stnylan about a possible trip to London and the environs for myself at some point next spring (sometime between May and July.) We are hoping to have a possible AAR-CON for a night (or two.) Mayhaps you might find some "holiday" time to meet with us and whomever else decides to join in the fun. Just a heads-up.
And what's all this talk of classics without mentioning other certain works that surely belong...perhaps I missed something. But I saw no mention of A Prayer for Owen Meany, To Kill A Mockingbird or Lolita on such a list and they should be when discussing classics. I surely must have missed something given the subject matter of the works suggested. I looked, too. Found nothing to assist. Must be the beer...or the cruel visage of Trempy!
And speaking of holidays, I've just been conversing with stnylan about a possible trip to London and the environs for myself at some point next spring (sometime between May and July.) We are hoping to have a possible AAR-CON for a night (or two.) Mayhaps you might find some "holiday" time to meet with us and whomever else decides to join in the fun. Just a heads-up.
And what's all this talk of classics without mentioning other certain works that surely belong...perhaps I missed something. But I saw no mention of A Prayer for Owen Meany, To Kill A Mockingbird or Lolita on such a list and they should be when discussing classics. I surely must have missed something given the subject matter of the works suggested. I looked, too. Found nothing to assist.
Must be the beer...or the cruel visage of Trempy!
i am reminded that i was meaning to join some fanclubs
feel free to sign me up for *ponders*
Fulk, Nell, Jocelyn, Richildis, Malcolm Nefastus, Anti-Trempy, The frog club... and i'm probilby forgetting one or two.
at your conveniance, of course
a short update, but none the less significant, i think. heh. this is one of my faveret [i Know i spelt that wrong. i always do :S] storys in the history of forever, i think. and you, dear Froggy, are in my very short list of faveret authors.
go you
ahh... holidays. they are so wonderful. or, you know, they are if you have anything to holiday From. heh. congratulations, you have a life. you beat me
feel free to sign me up for *ponders*
Fulk, Nell, Jocelyn, Richildis, Malcolm Nefastus, Anti-Trempy, The frog club... and i'm probilby forgetting one or two.
at your conveniance, of course
a short update, but none the less significant, i think. heh. this is one of my faveret [i Know i spelt that wrong. i always do :S] storys in the history of forever, i think. and you, dear Froggy, are in my very short list of faveret authors.
go you
ahh... holidays. they are so wonderful. or, you know, they are if you have anything to holiday From. heh. congratulations, you have a life. you beat me
If that is as it is, fine, Nell will not see me back in her fanclub, at least.
And boo to all anti-trempy members (I am not in that one, right? If I am, sign me off pronto ) Trempwick is the only hope for England!
Of course, that means any scots are excused for joining that club...
Interesting update by the way, but I can't see Trempy rushing in just to save mommy, and now Hugh has split his army. Go Trempy!
And boo to all anti-trempy members (I am not in that one, right? If I am, sign me off pronto
) Trempwick is the only hope for England!Of course, that means any scots are excused for joining that club...
Interesting update by the way, but I can't see Trempy rushing in just to save mommy, and now Hugh has split his army. Go Trempy!
Oh god Hugh took Trempy's mom! He just signed his death warrant right there. Trempwick may be a big scheming noble leading an army in rebellion, but he wouldn't let Hugh besiege his mama.
Reminds me of all the huge linemen who look like all they do is go to the weight room, promising to buy their moms big houses or a benz first thing after getting drafted. Trempwick may be powerful but he still loves his mom.
Reminds me of all the huge linemen who look like all they do is go to the weight room, promising to buy their moms big houses or a benz first thing after getting drafted. Trempwick may be powerful but he still loves his mom.