Before Too Long I Fell In Love (sirlancelotc) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2017-01-03 13:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, char: lancelot cadwallader, char: quintella cadwallader, char: zj montgomery, time: 2008 12 |
RP: Storytime
Who: Lancelot and Quin (with a small appearance of ZJ)
What: Story Time
When: December 14, 2008 (backdated)
Where: Library/Rainforest Café
Warnings: language
[OOC note: The story she tells is stolen directly from the movie Jack the Giant Slayer, but repurposed for Quin and her family and maybe tweaked just a little.]
She had the children in the library today while she pulled a few tomes from the stacks, which might not be the best idea except she'd fed Felix immediately before coming, and he was napping quietly in his little carry thing which thankfully had a weightless charm on it, and Auri was content to curl up in the children's section with a couple of books that were advanced for her -- well, considering she could read, which was apparently more than some of her peers could do.
So Quintella herself sat at the table nearest the children's section, Felix just off to the side where she could rock him gently with a foot if he started to fuss in his sleep.
But it wasn't Fee or Auri who distracted her. In fact, her daughter was trying to quietly hush the handful of children that had come in just a short while ago, but they were getting progressively louder. While Quin could tune them out to an extent, several of the other patrons were getting considerably more upset with each passing moment. She truly didn't want them to be yelled at, especially in front of her. Quin hated raised voices, had awful memories of being railed at and demeaned.
So she stood and left her books, took Fee over to the children's area and set him down in his carrier. "Children! We must hush," she said in that quiet voice of hers. "This is a library."
There was general scoffing, led by one of the slightly older boys. But Quin was pretty good with children, at least up to a certain age, and so she smiled at them sunnily. "How about a story? Libraries are all about stories, right?"
There was general agreement, and Auri set down her book with an excited glint in her eyes. "Oh, mummy, tell us the one about Jack!"
"Jack, huh? Who wants to hear about Jack the Giantslayer?" she asked the boys and girls, and when there was more agreement, Quin clapped her hands quietly and did a neat little twirl, flaring out her skir, and then kneeling down to have it flare out around her in a lovely little circle, which mesmerized the children as they settled around her.
"Fee fi fo fum," she started in that lyrical voice of hers, eyes bright.
The boy immediately scoffed. "I smell the blood of an Englishman." His tone was derisive.
"No, no, listen," Auri scolded for her. "Please, mummy, tell the story!"
"Fee fi fo fum," she began again. "Ask not whence the thunder comes. In the time of King Erik Three-Hundred-and-ten, in ancient England, Called Albion then, the Monks of old looked to the sky, to ask of their God who, what, how and why, alas, they found no reply. The frustrated Monks turned to magic forbidden, incantations of the Dark-Arts they’d hidden. With seeds they pulled from a magical pod, the Monks grew a path-way to seek out their God. But when they came to what they thought was Heaven’s gate, they met with a terrible, grisly fate.
For between Heaven and Earth is a perilous place, Gantua, home to a fierce giant race.
"With the bridge now before them to the world of men,
a plague of giants descends. Taking a cue from the richest of kings,
the acquired a taste for acquiring things. But one taste that caused them to lose control was a taste for the mankind blood, bones and all. The Monks that remained were brought to the throne, for this nightmare was caused by their actions alone.
"King Erik bade the Monks to return to Dark-Arts, to find him some way to rule giant hearts. So they melted one down, and crafted a crown,
unlike any before, built with iron and hatred, magic and more. As soon as the King took crown in hand, the giants were slave to his every command." Quin's hands gestured as she recited the poem, giving the words life of their own. Even the children who were more unfamiliar with the way of speaking, who didn't have grandparents or great-grandparents living who still sometimes spoke this way, could make out what she was saying.
"Erik severed the link between giants and men, and peace returned to his Kingdom again. The mystical relics were all that remained, safe with Erik all the years that he reigned. And at last when the time came for King Erik to sleep, he took crown and seed with him for permanent keep. And as the King’s bones crumbled away, truth became legend, or so people say.
"But jealous eyes are looking down on peaceful fields in Albion. An enemy vows there’ll come a day, when giants return and giants stay.
To avenge a thousand-year-old sin, and eat the last of Erik’s kin…
Fee Fi Fo Fum. Ask not whence the thunder comes.
Ask not where the herds have gone. Nor why the birds have ceased their song. When coming home, don't take too long. For monsters roam in Albion. For between heaven and earth is a perilous place. Home to a fearsome giant race. Who hunger to conquer the mortals below. Waiting for the seeds of revenge to grow."
And then Quin launched into the tale of the poor boy, Jack, and the Princess Isabelle, and the evil Roderick, who coveted the throne for his own. She told the somewhat familiar tale, told to these children as her own grandmother had told it to her when she was but a tiny girl, and whose grandmother had told it to her when she was a girl, and so on and so forth, back to the one who claimed to be the daughter of the Princess Isabelle, so very, very long ago. She spoke of the fearsome giants, and the heroic deeds, and of magic and bravery and sacrifice.
She told the story quietly but passionately, not afraid to speak in front of the children like she always was in front of adults. She didn't end it with the usual bit she tacked on for Auri and Fee, about how this was their many many many times great greats. She simply told it like she'd tell any of the old, old stories her grandmother had passed on before she'd passed -- even after she'd known Quin was a squib. Sometimes Quintella suspected that she had done so because she was the only one old enough to remember who actually cared about the stories, as well as being the only girl.