A King for a Queen

Arielle opened the bag with trembling hands. Upon seeing its contents she stifled a scream and sank into a nearby chair, all strength gone from her limbs. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as an immense feeling of guilt and grief crashed into her. Kolton, the king of Pelon, was dead. He had traded his life for hers. The life of a king for that of a lowly guard.

She sobbed quietly for several minutes, head in her hands before she registered that her name was being called. She looked up through bleary eyes to see that General Ravenore and Counselor Chi had joined Grand Minister Bhenod. All three were looking at her, grief stricken expressions on their faces.

"Arielle," GM softly said, "these are for you." He handed her an envelope addressed to her. "In know you must be feeling but we need you to read these immediately."

Confusion mixing with her grief, Arielle took the offered envelope. The script and seal revealed it to be from Kolton.  She opened it and removed several sheets of lightweight parchment and a sheet of heavier weight, the kind used for official documents.

She looked at the lighter weight sheets first. Scrawled on them in a neat, but hurried script was:

Dearest Arielle,
      I cannot begin the express the honor you have done me and the kingdom of Pelon by serving as my guard for so many years. You have performed this duty admirably and with greater conviction than anyone could have asked.
     When word came to me of your capture and Jhaeros' condition for your release I knew, without hesitation, what I would do. There are those who will view the exchange as a foolish king throwing his life away for that of a lowly peasant, but they are wrong. It's that of a king, exchanging his life for his queen. A man trading himself for the woman he loves.
      I love you Arielle. I have for some time now. I regret that I never told you, but the knowledge that such an admission would drive you from the Raven Guard and my side was too much to bear.
      I wish I had more time to explain, but I have one last request of you. This request comes not from your king, but from your friend. Enclosed you will find a Certificate of Marriage. It is dated for several days after we returned from our ordeals in Susal (so it will seem to validate the rumors that already drift through the castle). It is signed by myself, General Ravenore, Grand Minister Bhenod, and Counselor Chi, all it needs to be valid is your signature.
      My last request is this: sign the certificate and assume the throne of Pelon. Petition King Ehrendil. He will stand with you. Unite the armies of Pelon and Iselon and crush Jhaeros. Avenge my death and the death of your father. Take back that which is rightfully yours. You are the lost daughter of Ar’undale, rightful queen of Kamor. Never forget that.
      I know this not something you ever wanted, and I'm sorry I must ask it of you. As you consider, remember that I am not asking this of you as your king, but as your friend. It is a request, not a command. Follow your heart as you always have.
     I must go now. I have a narrow window of time in which I will be able to slip out of the castle and come for you. You can trust the three men I have mentioned. They have been true friends. I wish you all the best.
              Your friend,
                 Kolton

Arielle didn't even bother to look at the certificate. She sunk back into the chair, one hand over her mouth, the other limply clutching the papers.

"These have to be fake." She eventually muttered. The words rung hollow even as she said them. She knew Kolton’s handwriting. The documents were authentic.

"I can promise they are not." Grand Minister Bhenod answered. "While no one knew of his plans to trade himself for you, the three of us were fully aware of the certificate. The king had it drawn up in case something happened to him before he married. It was always his intention that you should become queen in that situation."

Arielle ran a hand over her face and muttered "Damn him. He had no right to ask this of me." She covered her eyes, bracing her elbow on the table before her, once again muttering the curse.

After several minutes she asked, "What happens if I refuse to sign?"

"Then Lord Mourndane will assume the throne." General Ravenore answered.

Arielle looked up sharply at the reply. Lord Mourndane was a tyrant. He would run the kingdom into he ground and all the work she and Kolton as well as Kolton’s father had done to improve the lives of half-elves in Pelon would be undone overnight.

"He is the closest surviving relative." Counselor Chi added.

She ran her hand over her face again, suddenly tired. “This will never work.”

Grand Minister Bhenod chuckled. “I believe I said as much to him when he had Counselor Chi draft the certificate.”

“I wasn't even there! How can I agree to a marriage I was never present for?” She asked, tossing the papers onto the table.

“Well actually-”

She looked up to see the three men look at each other sheepishly.

“What?”

Counselor Chi looked back at her. “You were there, standing by the door mind you, but you were there. It was quite obvious that you were uncomfortable with our arguing.”

Arielle’s memory flashed back to the moment he was referencing. Kolton and the men before her had been in a heated argument over something she had been trying not to eavesdrop on. There had been no obvious reason for her to be in the room, but Kolton had been insistent, telling her to stand by the door. At the time she had though he was being paranoid, but apparently he had been being devious.

“This is what you were arguing about?” She queried, not entirely believing their insinuation.

“Yes.” Grand Minister Bhenod replied. “As I said, this plan has been in place for some time.”

Arielle sat back in the chair again. She sat for several minutes staring at the papers strewn across the table, trying not to eye the dark spot that was growing on the bag which was also there. All her life she had wanted to be a beacon of hope to her fellow half-elves living in Pelon. She had become a Keeper, a city guard, to achieve that goal. Circumstances had eventually led to the then prince of Pelon, Kolton, to convince his father to change the law to allow her, and other half-elves, into the Raven Guard, the elite guards who served the royal family directly.

Now, she was presented with not only the opportunity to go beyond that achievement, she was being presented the throne of a powerful kingdom. The throne of a kingdom that had done its best to belittle and demean people like her. She was being given the ultimate chance to embody the hope she had always desired to be. It would be a fight, inside and outside, and while she did not know enough of her father and his kingdom to strongly desire vengeance for him, she could not let Kolton’s progress be in vain.

“Damn him.” She sighed, once again running a hand over her face. She looked back at the three men, “ Who has a pen and ink?”

They Changed the World

                “Um-excuse me, sir?”

                Sorvar had been staring down at his mug, contemplating drinking from it. The high-pitched voice addressing him broke the liquid’s trance. He looked up through red-rimmed eyes to see a scrawny half-elf looking at him.

                “I got no spare change, kid. Scram.” He mumbled in a gruff voice, glancing back down at his mug.

                “I-don’t need money.” The kid stammered. “I was just wondering if I can sit at your table….all the other seats are taken.”

                Sorvar glanced up at the boy again, studying him for a moment, taking in the worn travel clothes and mussed blonde-brown hair. There was something familiar about this kid. As he studied, he met the boy’s eyes. The slate-grey eyes pierced through him. He had seen those eyes before. They were the reason he was here, drinking himself to unconsciousness…again.

                Even though he knew it was extremely unwise, he still couldn’t stop himself from whispering her name, “Faelynn…..”

                The kid gave him a shocked look, “What did you say?”

                “Nothin’.” Sorvar slurred. “Now go away.” The last thing he needed was Faelynn Stormbringer’s son (Faerin, wasn’t it?) asking questions he didn’t want to remember the answers to.

                The kid ignored his gruff request and sat down anyway. “You said ‘Faelynn.’” He exclaimed in a tone not quite a yell. “Were you referring to Faelynn Stormbringer?”

                The noise in the inn seemed to lessen as people took notice of the kid’s outburst.  People were staring at them. Many of those stares were not friendly.

“That’s not a name you want to be shouting in a place like this, kid.” Sorvar said, an edge of warning in his voice.

                The kid’s face turned a shade of red, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “I just….I know so little about her…I thought…..” he broke off as he lowered his gaze and began fiddle with an amulet he had pulled from under his shirt. They sat in silence for several minutes as the other patrons resumed their previous conversations.

                “She was beautiful, smart, and deadly, kid.” Sorvar grumbled finally. “There’s not much more to know. Even her closest friends couldn’t tell you more than that.”

The kid’s head shot up. “Wait. You knew her, didn’t you? Personally?” his eyes were lit up like bonfires.

“I knew all of them,” He murmured over the lip of his mug, pausing before drinking. “At least, I thought I did. Once.  A long time ago.”  Sorvar took a long drink from his mug and practically dropped back onto the table. It made a dull thud as it landed.

“What were they like?” the kid asked, curiosity and awe evident in his voice.

Some crumpled copy of a smile crossed his face. “They were going to change the world.”

Outside the inn, in kingdoms and cities near and far, the world burned.

 

 

Untitled Star Wars Scene-Shot 3: Part 2

Author's Note:

     This is a very rough series of scene-shots. I apologize in advance to any hard-core Star Wars fans who may read it and find canonical and technical errors and misconceptions in it (especially regarding the Jedi and the Force). I am a big  fan of Star Wars, but have not been able to express that love for some time (a long story that does not have a place here) and this has led to a lack of knowledge about much outside of the movies. As with most of my scene-shots it is mostly un-edited, nor did I do any research for it. In light of that, please forgive the lack of planet names and other species. I simply wrote what came to me based on what I already know. Also, it is not intended to have any relation or bearing to the current or previous cannon. It simply occurs in the same GFFA. Thank you for your understanding, and may the Force be with you.

     I do not own the rights to the Star Wars elements used in this scene-shot. I also do not make any profit from this story. This is for personal enjoyment only.
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    She fought; trusting the Force to be her eyes and direct her movements. It was a strange experience. She had only given over so much control during meditation, never in battle. She had to trust that she was not cutting down ally as well as foe. As she felt the Force flowing through her, she reflected on how things had come to this.

    Originally sent to oversee negotiations, she had her master had been forced to abandon neutrality and choose a side. Once the negotiations had reached the breaking point, the decision had not been hard. She had personally borne witness to some of the horrors that would only multiply if they lost this fight.

    The following months had been hard, and the recent loss of her master, as well as her eyesight, even if temporarily, had not made it easier. She could fell the Dark Side calling to her, calling for her to give in to the fear and anger that had been building insider her for months- anger against the horrors that had been committed against innocents and over the death of her master and fear of what would come should her efforts and the efforts of her allies be in vain. She also feared her own inexperience and short-comings. She was a padawan, full of potential, but also self-doubt.

    She resisted the call, pulling strength from the Light and the knowledge that their cause was just. She could not give in. Even if they won the war, she would have lost. Their message had gotten through and help was coming, she could feel it. She could fight until it arrived.

    She felt a change come over her. All of a sudden, her body was her own. Subtly, yet almost instantly, the Force had released its hold on her. Sound reached her ears, so any sounds. Over them she could hear a man speaking. The man’s presence felt familiar, but her mind was too exhausted to explain why.

    “….you can stop…..it’s over….you did it….”

    Her arms felt heavy, and her had decided to quit working. As she felt a soft darkness enveloped her, the words “it’s over….you did it….” echoed in her mind. They had won.

Untitled Star Wars Scene-Shot 3: Part 1

Author's Note:

     This is a very rough series of scene-shots. I apologize in advance to any hard-core Star Wars fans who may read it and find canonical and technical errors and misconceptions in it (especially regarding the Jedi and the Force). I am a big  fan of Star Wars, but have not been able to express that love for some time (a long story that does not have a place here) and this has led to a lack of knowledge about much outside of the movies. As with most of my scene-shots it is mostly un-edited, nor did I do any research for it. In light of that, please forgive the lack of planet names and other species. I simply wrote what came to me based on what I already know. Also, it is not intended to have any relation or bearing to the current or previous cannon. It simply occurs in the same GFFA. Thank you for your understanding, and may the Force be with you.

     I do not own the rights to the Star Wars elements used in this scene-shot. I also do not make any profit from this story. This is for personal enjoyment only.
***********************************************************************************


     He stared at the army below him, the weight of hopelessness pressing on his spirit. Victory was essential, but impossible. There was no way so few could defeat so many.

     He didn't turn as two people approached and stood beside him, one on each side. The one on his right, a man just starting middle age with a face deeply etched with fear and worry spoke first.

     "What do we do?" he asked. "We never got confirmation our message got through."

     He didn't answer. The figure on his left did, and her answer surprising him.

     "We fight."

     Both of them turned to look at her. She did not look at them, but simply stared with bandaged covered eyes at the scene before them. The young girl was a Jedi. Well, more accurately, a Jedi Padawan, young and inexperienced, but still the best fighter they had and usually a voice of reason beyond her years.

     She had aged since her and her master had first arrived. The past few months had been a whirlwind of blood and battle, the result of semi-peaceful negotiations degrading into outright war. On top of that, her master had been killed in an attack on their previous base, several days before, and she had been temporarily blinded. However, as she stood beside him, he had no doubt she knew exactly what lay before them. The Jedi were like that, able to "see without seeing."

     She continued speaking, "They are on their way. We fight until they get here."

     "How do you know?" the man beside him asked skeptically, "You can't possibly know that."

    The girl turned her bandaged face toward the man, "I just know."

Dead Men Don't Press Buttons

"No, you weren't supposed to press that button! You weren't supposed to even be near it!" *frantically presses other buttons* "What on God's green earth possessed you to press it?!"

"It was an accident!"...................... "What happens now?"

"Well, for starters, I get to call the President and tell him that this was all just a false alarm. Then I get to silently and respectfully listen to him chew me out for being reckless. Then I'll do the same while he threatens to shoot me or have me incarcerated if it happens again. Heaven forbid I tell him it was you who pressed the button and not me."

"Why can't you tell him it was me?"

"Because, oh dearest friend, you're supposed to be dead. Dead men don't press buttons that start nuclear wars."

"Oh."

The Abondoned Clock

She stared at the remains of the old clock. It had once been a grand and beautiful thing. It's windows had been stained glass and iron.  The building was so tall and the face was so large you could see it clearly from any where in the city. At one time, it chimed out the hours in pleasing rings and peals. Now it sat silent. many of the windows had cracked and broken during the bombings. One of the clock hands had fallen off and had probably been sold as scrap. Many of the chimes and bells had gone missing, the ones that weren't too large for one or two to carry. Thankfully, the stairs that wound their way to the top had been made of metal. If they had been wood, they would have rotted and collapsed long ago. To most people, the prospect of living in an abandoned clock building was creepy and unsettling, so much silence where there should be noise. To her, even with the broken windows and dusty floors, it was home.

Six Word Story

Crying, she accepted the folded flag.