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rhube. The prologue and first chapter of Greenhelm, written back hen I was about thirteen. Including footnotes, and some ideas so blatantly ripped from Tamora Pierce I can't believe I thought I'd get away with it. Oh, and spot how much I loved Shadowfax in LotR.
Prologue
The girl screamed as the contraction wracked her young body. Her hips were still too narrow for this bodily torture, but she had no choice but to endure it. She had taken the money that Lord had given her for an abortion, and spent it on new clothes. She cursed loudly. The midwife, barely older than herself, blushed at the profanities and damnation she tried to bring upon the Lord of the area.
“Why does it still hurt?” The girl screamed as yet another contraction ran through her body.
“Twins.”
“Imposs…” The girl broke of with a scream. Shortly she was proved wrong, as her blonde son was joined by a brother. “But,” she gasped, “only… supposed to be…one.”
“Sorry.” The midwife began to clean up the young mother. There was more blood on the bed than there should be, and she felt certain the girl would be dead before the night was out. Thirteen was too young to become a mother and cope with the birth.
Suddenly the door burst open. The imposing Lord Arthur swept up the dark-haired boy in the midwife’s arms and left as quickly as he had arrived, giving neither girl the chance to point out the elder child in the crib in the corner.
Turning back to the young mother, the midwife gasped. A dark blue light, so dark as to be black, surrounded the girl, and healed her. The raven-haired mother sat up triumphantly.
“Shame you should see that.” She smiled as tendrils of light throttled the midwife. The witch stripped the midwife’s clothes, tucking her distinctive hair under the tight bonnet and casting a glamour over herself. Hiding the second child of the thousandth generation of this particular noble line, she strode up to the mansion and told the father of her sons that their mother was dead. She returned to the hut, collected the elder son and fled in to the night.
Chapter one
He stood and studied the shelves of books around him. They stretched as far as the eye could see. He understood why any visitor would find this impressive, but having lived in the house his whole life, a little over eighteen years, he just found it a little boring, monotonous even.
Galahad sighed, and turned to the window. He gazed out, and wondered if he would ever understand why he had been the one chosen by the Gods to be born into this family, as it’s only heir. Life was dull. He spent a little too much time thinking about his life, and had come to the conclusion it really wasn’t worth it.
True, he wandered outside every now and then. He rode Nightsilver, his purebred stallion, at least twice a day. Nightsilver was Galahad’s only friend. He had often thought about running away with Nightsilver as far as possible: over the mountains, across the desert, through the Darkmoors even, to anywhere but where he was.
He knew he never would. It had become a sort of obsession now; he had to impress his father, to make him praise Galahad. Not a word of encouragement, of understanding, had he ever heard. Arthur de Greenhelm, lord of all he surveyed, was a harsh man, made harsher by the loss of his wife over 15 years ago. Arthur never mentioned how his wife had died. Galahad suspected that she never had done, just fled to a new home. Galahad wished bitterly that she had taken him with her. Lord Arthur had fired every servant he had, and now there was no one for Galahad to turn to, except his horse.
Horses, Galahad mused, are one per lord in my family. His father’s horse was old and could barely move. Nightsilver, on the other hand, was swift and strong, light and lithe. The horses of the de Greenhelm’s were a breed apart. They lived as long as their masters, had superb stamina and speed, and could mindspeak to people. At least, Nightsilver did. He was good company and helped Galahad calm down after a particularly hard reprimand from his father. Nightsilver could run swifter than the wind for days without stopping. Galahad had once ridden to the sea and back in three days, normally a two-month journey at top speed.
Galahad wandered outside. The breeze was cool on his face as he turned to look at the building towering above him. At least 100 bedrooms, 50 drawing rooms, 90 bathrooms, 90 drawing rooms, 25 studies…
Galahad gave up. No one could ever work out how many rooms there were, how many secret passages, how people it would take to fill. As well as the ordinary rooms, there were three extremely magical rooms*. These rooms included a kitchen, because if the house was full, no amount of chefs would manage to feed them all; the library, needed to hold a literally infinite number of books; and The Great Hall, which had such power no one had entered it in over 500 years.
Galahad dawdled as he made his way to the stable, dreaming of what he would do when he left the house he had known his whole life. He idly skimmed a stone across the surface of one of the ornamental lakes, five, six, seven, eight bounces before it sank out of sight below the surface. Galahad turned away and walked straight into his father’s chest.
“Galahad.”
“Yes?” He wanted to sink into the ground. He wasn’t sure why, but he was so ashamed of himself he had to bite his lip to stop the tears that threatened.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Yes, sir?
Lord Arthur de Greenhelm looked his son up and down, finding fault with everything he saw. He gets it from his mother, he thought bitterly. One cold, harsh glare communicated this and Galahad shivered.
“Your rooms.”
“Yes, sir.” Without another word or backward glance Galahad fled to the mansion and took the stairs inside two at a time in an attempt to obey his father without delay.
* * *
“Ethan, dopey, hurry up!” Ivy twisted in her saddle to see where her jestering friend had got to.
“Moi?” She heard a voice from up ahead.
“How’d you get there?” she asked crossly.
Ethan tapped the side of his nose and cantered on. They were heading straight into danger, and he seemed almost eager to get there. As Ivy thought this over she galloped to join him.
She was greeted with a lazy grin and slight chuckle. She couldn’t help but smile back. They rode together in a comfortably silence, until Ethan spoke.
“So.”
“Yes?”
“You been told anything about this Lord yet? I could tell you stories that would give you nightmares.”
“Go on then. All I know is he’s a miserly old fool who’s almost never been seen.”
“True. He could also claim to be a king if he wishes, he has got the right. He’s also got a son. I met the kid once, when we were very young. Seemed pretty depressed. Not really surprising.” Ethan snorted.
“How old were you then?”
The almost nineteen-year-old youth considered, “About five. He’s a little less than a year younger than I am, but very odd. Very, very odd.”
“Wait a sec. He was four, and he was depressed? Four years olds don’t get depressed. Besides, how would you know? At five I seriously doubt you were that sensitive. And I thought this was supposed to give me nightmares? I’m just plan curious.”
“Look, he’s got my father, and a reputation for doing ‘things’ to his enemies. That’s enough to give me nightmares!” Realising what he’d said, Ethan blushed and glanced over his shoulder, trying to hide it, as if he was expecting someone. Ivy felt a pang of sympathy.
* * *
Ethan and Ivy worked for the Empress of Larada. Ivy was just eighteen. Ethan constantly teased her with tricks and jokes, which she could never work out and he point-blank refused to tell her how they were done.
Ivy, having grown up in the seaside town of Harad, a little along the coast from the capital: Laradian City, practically lived in, on and around the water. She was well aware of the constant threat of pirates, as her parent’s ship had been raided regularly. The pain these raids could cause was especially close to her heart, as both of her parents had died during a particularly vicious raid. The culprits had been brought to justice, but Ivy couldn’t bear the idea there were others like them still at large.
As the Imperial Palace over-looked the sea the Empress knew about this and had employed Ivy’s parents and now many others like them as a short range attack force to keep the pirates from causing too much trouble. This, and the Navy, the largest and strongest around, had caused the pirates to turn to the land, and it’s rich pickings.
Ethan’s parents worked as Jesters in the Palace. Ethan had learnt many of their tricks and was carefree yet thoughtful. When he heard about the pirates he’d wondered what to do. He came up with the idea of the ‘Junior Cavalry’, known as ‘the little horses’ to everyone who wasn’t directly involved. They were the army-in-training. You didn’t have to join the army after you finished (if you finished) but most trainees did.
This was where they and many others came in to their own. Retired Generals and Admirals trained the young men and women in strategy, tactics and careful planning~. Members of the true cavalry taught them trick riding; how to mount while your steed is in full gallop, how to fire bows or swing swords without killing your mount and how to ride bareback, side-saddle and any other way they could think of. A quartermaster taught weaponry and the masterhealer to heal both themselves and others. A wayfarer (or traveller) took them or regular excursions to teach them which plants they could eat, how to lay traps which won’t leave an animal in great pain for hours and how to find food in the most unlikely of places. A witch, wizard or warlock taught those who were blessed with Magick how to use it to its full extent.
It was three years training, with no pay and high risks. Training began anytime between the ages of fifteen and twenty. Trainees constantly had to go further and further afield, as the pirates spread further inland. It was becoming dangerous for civilians to leave the house, and the regular army had very little chance of catching the pirates, who had the hit-and-run tactics down to a letter*. The trainees got their experience and practised much needed skills while doing something useful for the empire.
Ethan and Ivy met when they applied to join up. Ivy, with her short, dark hair and sparking green eyes was the essence of pure mischief. Ethan, tall, blonde, blue-eyed Ethan, was trouble on two legs. The Masters had nicknamed them the ‘disastrous duo’. They went everywhere together, friends at first sight, completely inseparable.
The Empress of the Laradian Empire was another trainee. Barely eighteen herself, she had brought together the warring little countries of her empire and united them in reasonable harmony. She was pretty, with shoulder-length pale blonde hair, sea green eyes and fair skin. Southern Larada was warm place, so nearly all inhabitants were quite dark skinned. Her fair skin made her remarkable, and she was known as the Winter Jewel.
Her father had been the Seventh Emperor of Larada, but he died when Laina was eleven, and she was his only heir. Rather than let ministers take over she immediately set about ruling the palace. She fired the ministers who tried to persuade her to become a ‘proper young lady’ and set up her own ruling body, and her own body ruling. The first Empress of the Laradian Empire was a feminist and as stubborn as a mule.
The Empire was on the point of collapse. The two major states, Cour and Harad, were rebelling against Imperial rule. Cour was the centre of agriculture, and was perfectly capable of supporting themselves, and Harad was sitting on top of the largest mineral and iron ore deposits in the known Terra. As long as relations remained cordial between the two states, they would be strong enough to last. Larada, however, had the largest population of the Empire, and therefore the largest percentage of the army and navy. Also, most of the soldiers’ and sailors’ families lived in Larada, so they were unlikely to try and separate themselves from the ruling state. Laina made it clear to the officials of Cour and Harad that she would tolerate no dissension and pointed out the aforementioned facts, and the rebellion soon lost its driving force.
She insisted on equality, but as she was the first Imperial ruler to support the policy at the time it was difficult. She worked her way around this by pointing out it was equality or downright female domination. Many women joined her armies, swelling the ranks. Laina ruled that every state must elect at least one female official in every department. This meant that any chauvinist policies or reforms would meet stiff opposition.
When Ethan came up with the idea of the Junior Cavalry the response was immediate.
Lord de Greenhelm had kidnapped Ethan’s father, travelling in the mountains. There was a long-standing family feud between the two and, unfortunately, Lord Arthur was perfectly within his rights to keep George Lanaís in the mansion dungeons. Word of his capture had reached Ethan, much to his distress, and he and Ivy had set off at once. Empress Laina was sorry to see them go, as she relied on them for many things, and had wished them much good fortune.
* * *
Ivy stole another look at Ethan. He had fallen very quiet, a rare occurrence, and she felt sorry for him. She also felt something else for him, but hid it well, even from herself!
She thought Ethan would be kinda dashing, in an innocent kinda way, if your idea of dashing were someone who pulled a roll out of your ear every time you stopped to eat (!). She touched his arm, and felt him jump. He bit his lip and looked at her. She had never seen him like this before, and didn’t like it.
“Not far now,” she murmured, to whom she wasn’t sure.
“No, not far. We should find cover before we’re seen. We’ve been lucky so far.”
“You’re right.” They left the path and headed into the bushes to the right of the road.
A few seconds later the son of the man they sought galloped past, tears streaming from his eyes, with his face buried in the horse’s mane. Galahad probably wouldn’t have noticed them if they’d shot him, he was so distraught.
*Not including the cellars, which are magical in any house. Especially to young children to which they are normally forbidden.
*Something Ethan was very bad at!
*Usually a badly spelt one going along the lines of:
We wont al ure munnee and wil kill uredorta datur littul gurl if u don’t giv it too uz.
Luv form the pirats.
Oh me oh my ^_^
The other day (quite a few days ago now, but I want to record this) I saw a couple of peahens walking down our road. Random.
rhube. The prologue and first chapter of Greenhelm, written back hen I was about thirteen. Including footnotes, and some ideas so blatantly ripped from Tamora Pierce I can't believe I thought I'd get away with it. Oh, and spot how much I loved Shadowfax in LotR.Prologue
The girl screamed as the contraction wracked her young body. Her hips were still too narrow for this bodily torture, but she had no choice but to endure it. She had taken the money that Lord had given her for an abortion, and spent it on new clothes. She cursed loudly. The midwife, barely older than herself, blushed at the profanities and damnation she tried to bring upon the Lord of the area.
“Why does it still hurt?” The girl screamed as yet another contraction ran through her body.
“Twins.”
“Imposs…” The girl broke of with a scream. Shortly she was proved wrong, as her blonde son was joined by a brother. “But,” she gasped, “only… supposed to be…one.”
“Sorry.” The midwife began to clean up the young mother. There was more blood on the bed than there should be, and she felt certain the girl would be dead before the night was out. Thirteen was too young to become a mother and cope with the birth.
Suddenly the door burst open. The imposing Lord Arthur swept up the dark-haired boy in the midwife’s arms and left as quickly as he had arrived, giving neither girl the chance to point out the elder child in the crib in the corner.
Turning back to the young mother, the midwife gasped. A dark blue light, so dark as to be black, surrounded the girl, and healed her. The raven-haired mother sat up triumphantly.
“Shame you should see that.” She smiled as tendrils of light throttled the midwife. The witch stripped the midwife’s clothes, tucking her distinctive hair under the tight bonnet and casting a glamour over herself. Hiding the second child of the thousandth generation of this particular noble line, she strode up to the mansion and told the father of her sons that their mother was dead. She returned to the hut, collected the elder son and fled in to the night.
Chapter one
He stood and studied the shelves of books around him. They stretched as far as the eye could see. He understood why any visitor would find this impressive, but having lived in the house his whole life, a little over eighteen years, he just found it a little boring, monotonous even.
Galahad sighed, and turned to the window. He gazed out, and wondered if he would ever understand why he had been the one chosen by the Gods to be born into this family, as it’s only heir. Life was dull. He spent a little too much time thinking about his life, and had come to the conclusion it really wasn’t worth it.
True, he wandered outside every now and then. He rode Nightsilver, his purebred stallion, at least twice a day. Nightsilver was Galahad’s only friend. He had often thought about running away with Nightsilver as far as possible: over the mountains, across the desert, through the Darkmoors even, to anywhere but where he was.
He knew he never would. It had become a sort of obsession now; he had to impress his father, to make him praise Galahad. Not a word of encouragement, of understanding, had he ever heard. Arthur de Greenhelm, lord of all he surveyed, was a harsh man, made harsher by the loss of his wife over 15 years ago. Arthur never mentioned how his wife had died. Galahad suspected that she never had done, just fled to a new home. Galahad wished bitterly that she had taken him with her. Lord Arthur had fired every servant he had, and now there was no one for Galahad to turn to, except his horse.
Horses, Galahad mused, are one per lord in my family. His father’s horse was old and could barely move. Nightsilver, on the other hand, was swift and strong, light and lithe. The horses of the de Greenhelm’s were a breed apart. They lived as long as their masters, had superb stamina and speed, and could mindspeak to people. At least, Nightsilver did. He was good company and helped Galahad calm down after a particularly hard reprimand from his father. Nightsilver could run swifter than the wind for days without stopping. Galahad had once ridden to the sea and back in three days, normally a two-month journey at top speed.
Galahad wandered outside. The breeze was cool on his face as he turned to look at the building towering above him. At least 100 bedrooms, 50 drawing rooms, 90 bathrooms, 90 drawing rooms, 25 studies…
Galahad gave up. No one could ever work out how many rooms there were, how many secret passages, how people it would take to fill. As well as the ordinary rooms, there were three extremely magical rooms*. These rooms included a kitchen, because if the house was full, no amount of chefs would manage to feed them all; the library, needed to hold a literally infinite number of books; and The Great Hall, which had such power no one had entered it in over 500 years.
Galahad dawdled as he made his way to the stable, dreaming of what he would do when he left the house he had known his whole life. He idly skimmed a stone across the surface of one of the ornamental lakes, five, six, seven, eight bounces before it sank out of sight below the surface. Galahad turned away and walked straight into his father’s chest.
“Galahad.”
“Yes?” He wanted to sink into the ground. He wasn’t sure why, but he was so ashamed of himself he had to bite his lip to stop the tears that threatened.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Yes, sir?
Lord Arthur de Greenhelm looked his son up and down, finding fault with everything he saw. He gets it from his mother, he thought bitterly. One cold, harsh glare communicated this and Galahad shivered.
“Your rooms.”
“Yes, sir.” Without another word or backward glance Galahad fled to the mansion and took the stairs inside two at a time in an attempt to obey his father without delay.
“Ethan, dopey, hurry up!” Ivy twisted in her saddle to see where her jestering friend had got to.
“Moi?” She heard a voice from up ahead.
“How’d you get there?” she asked crossly.
Ethan tapped the side of his nose and cantered on. They were heading straight into danger, and he seemed almost eager to get there. As Ivy thought this over she galloped to join him.
She was greeted with a lazy grin and slight chuckle. She couldn’t help but smile back. They rode together in a comfortably silence, until Ethan spoke.
“So.”
“Yes?”
“You been told anything about this Lord yet? I could tell you stories that would give you nightmares.”
“Go on then. All I know is he’s a miserly old fool who’s almost never been seen.”
“True. He could also claim to be a king if he wishes, he has got the right. He’s also got a son. I met the kid once, when we were very young. Seemed pretty depressed. Not really surprising.” Ethan snorted.
“How old were you then?”
The almost nineteen-year-old youth considered, “About five. He’s a little less than a year younger than I am, but very odd. Very, very odd.”
“Wait a sec. He was four, and he was depressed? Four years olds don’t get depressed. Besides, how would you know? At five I seriously doubt you were that sensitive. And I thought this was supposed to give me nightmares? I’m just plan curious.”
“Look, he’s got my father, and a reputation for doing ‘things’ to his enemies. That’s enough to give me nightmares!” Realising what he’d said, Ethan blushed and glanced over his shoulder, trying to hide it, as if he was expecting someone. Ivy felt a pang of sympathy.
Ethan and Ivy worked for the Empress of Larada. Ivy was just eighteen. Ethan constantly teased her with tricks and jokes, which she could never work out and he point-blank refused to tell her how they were done.
Ivy, having grown up in the seaside town of Harad, a little along the coast from the capital: Laradian City, practically lived in, on and around the water. She was well aware of the constant threat of pirates, as her parent’s ship had been raided regularly. The pain these raids could cause was especially close to her heart, as both of her parents had died during a particularly vicious raid. The culprits had been brought to justice, but Ivy couldn’t bear the idea there were others like them still at large.
As the Imperial Palace over-looked the sea the Empress knew about this and had employed Ivy’s parents and now many others like them as a short range attack force to keep the pirates from causing too much trouble. This, and the Navy, the largest and strongest around, had caused the pirates to turn to the land, and it’s rich pickings.
Ethan’s parents worked as Jesters in the Palace. Ethan had learnt many of their tricks and was carefree yet thoughtful. When he heard about the pirates he’d wondered what to do. He came up with the idea of the ‘Junior Cavalry’, known as ‘the little horses’ to everyone who wasn’t directly involved. They were the army-in-training. You didn’t have to join the army after you finished (if you finished) but most trainees did.
This was where they and many others came in to their own. Retired Generals and Admirals trained the young men and women in strategy, tactics and careful planning~. Members of the true cavalry taught them trick riding; how to mount while your steed is in full gallop, how to fire bows or swing swords without killing your mount and how to ride bareback, side-saddle and any other way they could think of. A quartermaster taught weaponry and the masterhealer to heal both themselves and others. A wayfarer (or traveller) took them or regular excursions to teach them which plants they could eat, how to lay traps which won’t leave an animal in great pain for hours and how to find food in the most unlikely of places. A witch, wizard or warlock taught those who were blessed with Magick how to use it to its full extent.
It was three years training, with no pay and high risks. Training began anytime between the ages of fifteen and twenty. Trainees constantly had to go further and further afield, as the pirates spread further inland. It was becoming dangerous for civilians to leave the house, and the regular army had very little chance of catching the pirates, who had the hit-and-run tactics down to a letter*. The trainees got their experience and practised much needed skills while doing something useful for the empire.
Ethan and Ivy met when they applied to join up. Ivy, with her short, dark hair and sparking green eyes was the essence of pure mischief. Ethan, tall, blonde, blue-eyed Ethan, was trouble on two legs. The Masters had nicknamed them the ‘disastrous duo’. They went everywhere together, friends at first sight, completely inseparable.
The Empress of the Laradian Empire was another trainee. Barely eighteen herself, she had brought together the warring little countries of her empire and united them in reasonable harmony. She was pretty, with shoulder-length pale blonde hair, sea green eyes and fair skin. Southern Larada was warm place, so nearly all inhabitants were quite dark skinned. Her fair skin made her remarkable, and she was known as the Winter Jewel.
Her father had been the Seventh Emperor of Larada, but he died when Laina was eleven, and she was his only heir. Rather than let ministers take over she immediately set about ruling the palace. She fired the ministers who tried to persuade her to become a ‘proper young lady’ and set up her own ruling body, and her own body ruling. The first Empress of the Laradian Empire was a feminist and as stubborn as a mule.
The Empire was on the point of collapse. The two major states, Cour and Harad, were rebelling against Imperial rule. Cour was the centre of agriculture, and was perfectly capable of supporting themselves, and Harad was sitting on top of the largest mineral and iron ore deposits in the known Terra. As long as relations remained cordial between the two states, they would be strong enough to last. Larada, however, had the largest population of the Empire, and therefore the largest percentage of the army and navy. Also, most of the soldiers’ and sailors’ families lived in Larada, so they were unlikely to try and separate themselves from the ruling state. Laina made it clear to the officials of Cour and Harad that she would tolerate no dissension and pointed out the aforementioned facts, and the rebellion soon lost its driving force.
She insisted on equality, but as she was the first Imperial ruler to support the policy at the time it was difficult. She worked her way around this by pointing out it was equality or downright female domination. Many women joined her armies, swelling the ranks. Laina ruled that every state must elect at least one female official in every department. This meant that any chauvinist policies or reforms would meet stiff opposition.
When Ethan came up with the idea of the Junior Cavalry the response was immediate.
Lord de Greenhelm had kidnapped Ethan’s father, travelling in the mountains. There was a long-standing family feud between the two and, unfortunately, Lord Arthur was perfectly within his rights to keep George Lanaís in the mansion dungeons. Word of his capture had reached Ethan, much to his distress, and he and Ivy had set off at once. Empress Laina was sorry to see them go, as she relied on them for many things, and had wished them much good fortune.
Ivy stole another look at Ethan. He had fallen very quiet, a rare occurrence, and she felt sorry for him. She also felt something else for him, but hid it well, even from herself!
She thought Ethan would be kinda dashing, in an innocent kinda way, if your idea of dashing were someone who pulled a roll out of your ear every time you stopped to eat (!). She touched his arm, and felt him jump. He bit his lip and looked at her. She had never seen him like this before, and didn’t like it.
“Not far now,” she murmured, to whom she wasn’t sure.
“No, not far. We should find cover before we’re seen. We’ve been lucky so far.”
“You’re right.” They left the path and headed into the bushes to the right of the road.
A few seconds later the son of the man they sought galloped past, tears streaming from his eyes, with his face buried in the horse’s mane. Galahad probably wouldn’t have noticed them if they’d shot him, he was so distraught.
*Not including the cellars, which are magical in any house. Especially to young children to which they are normally forbidden.
*Something Ethan was very bad at!
*Usually a badly spelt one going along the lines of:
We wont al ure munnee and wil kill ure
Luv form the pirats.
Oh me oh my ^_^
The other day (quite a few days ago now, but I want to record this) I saw a couple of peahens walking down our road. Random.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 16/8/06 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 16/8/06 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/8/06 09:02 am (UTC)The footnoted pirate letter was amusing! (although possibly for the wrong reasons :P)
no subject
Date: 17/8/06 09:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/8/06 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/8/06 11:12 am (UTC)Considering how old you were when you wrote it it's not bad, though.
I love who Lord Arthur arrives magically at the moment of birth in a kind of blink-and-you've-missed-him fashion.
Re: the peahens
Date: 17/8/06 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/8/06 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 17/8/06 04:01 pm (UTC)There's some wonderfully moments with the original Ethan and Ivy I' still quite fond of, for all that they were poorly written. Alas, they just wouldn't fit now.
(for example, the idea that Ethan, when waiting for Ivy in her room, goes through all her romance novels and changes the male protagonists names to his. Considering (a) there's no printng now and (b) he can't read any more, it's utterly useless, but it still feels very Ethan to me)
no subject
Date: 17/8/06 04:03 pm (UTC)