Princess Rosella of Daventry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
primrosella) wrote2011-01-19 06:38 pm
primrosella) wrote2011-01-19 06:38 pm
Entry tags:
- augh seriously wtf,
- daventry represent!,
- developing abandonment issues,
- family,
- gotta love that optimism,
- happily ever after,
- he doesn't look a thing like jesus,
- hit rock bottom; began to dig,
- i love my friends,
- knights and ladies,
- literary analysis,
- little princess in a terrible mess,
- missing daventry,
- parting is such sweet sorrow,
- put the pen down already,
- rosella's journal,
- stronger now than yesterday,
- taking care of business,
- the perils of being rosella,
- time to be a princess,
- your princess is in another castle
Quest 246
[Private || Hackable by Friends]
Dear Alexander,
It's been a long time since I've written to you, hasn't it? I really ought to be better about that, I know, even if you never get these letters when I write them. There's no telling if they really do send through, is there? And even if they do, if time isn't moving for you in Daventry and you'll never know I've been gone at all, then the thought of writing a letter like this is a bit silly. But I suppose it's more for my sake than for yours, anyway, so I do hope you'll forgive me for that and bear with me a bit as I go.
Things...aren't going as well as I might've hoped, these days. Awful things keep happening, and every time I think I finally have them managed, some new trouble comes along and piles on top of it, and makes things harder still. People keep leaving and friends keep disappearing--Sam's been gone more than half a year, Blue's coming up on half a year now himself, and it's a few now for Duo, and Penny's been gone a month, and now Edmund and Caspian are gone, too, and Riff's just gone missing, himself--and I remember a time when it was like this before, I do, and it was terrible because so many of my friends all slipped away, but...but I miss them. And I miss you, and Mother and Daddy, and I miss Daventry. I'm going to be twenty years old in just another two months, can you believe it? And after all this time you still aren't even eighteen yet--what an odd thing, for a pair of twins.
I always find myself writing to you when I miss you, when things are starting to feel hopeless and I'm having trouble going on. You endured much worse, though, didn't you? And for much longer, still. You spent a lifetime with no other company than an awful wizard, and yet you're a magician and the savior of a kingdom and--well, and the savior of me, too. I remember I used to be so very jealous of you for that, and worried that I wasn't good enough to compare to you, now that I suddenly had a twin brother I'd never known before.
I suppose that's the other reason why I write to you, you know. Because I know how strong you are, and how you managed all those years when things must have been so hopeless, and no matter how bad things get for me, it's still better than what you managed, didn't you? And you did manage it. And if you can do it, then I can too. We're twins. That's how things are.
I'm studying magic, too. So many people have gone, and so many awful things happen here, that it just seems prudent to be ready for as much as I can. Did it frighten you, learning yours? Some adventures don't leave one the time to be frightened, I know--only the time to find a way out of whatever predicament one faces, or to perish when one can't. Perhaps it's fortunate, in a way, that things don't seem to work that way here. But I think it's unfortunate, too, since there are dangers here that are much worse than anything one might face in Daventry.
It's not just the City that's dangerous. A great many of the people are, too. And it's not just that they're evil, because many of them aren't. They're good...but dangerous. It's unsettling.
It's an unsettling place in general, this City.
I think I started writing you this letter as a means of trying to make myself feel better, and it's rather wandered all over the place in the meantime. I'm sorry for that, and if Gerwain should ever see it, I'm certain he'll complain at how disorganized my thoughts are to read. But it's helped a bit, even so, and that's what matters, I think. If nothing else, it's helped me to feel a bit closer to you, even when you're so very far away and I haven't seen you in so long.
Perhaps I ought to try writing letters to the other people I miss, too. There's about as much chance of them receiving it as there is of you getting this one, but I don't think they'd mind if I took the time out to try. And wouldn't that be a lovely thing to think of, a letter of mine traveling to Sam's Prince's Ton and to Blue's Homeland and Penny's friend's residence, and one off to you in Daventry and another off to Narnia, and to Duo in space and Kurama in his garden and Blair on her Upper East Side and Tristan in his Wall.
...I never had so many friends before I came here, Alexander.
Even if I've lost them now, isn't it still better that I knew them at all?
It is. It's better I knew them at all. Even if it means I've had to miss you and Mother and Daddy for almost two and a half years. I'll always have you waiting for me, when it's finally my turn to go home. But I wouldn't have had any of them if I hadn't ended up separated from you in the first place, and...I'm lucky, aren't I? I've always been the more fortunate of the two of us. Even when I only had Mother and Daddy, that was still so much more than you ever had at all.
And now you have Mother and Daddy and Daventry, and it's my turn to make my way on my own. But I can. I can do that. You're still waiting for me, no matter how much time passes, and oh, won't I have a world of wonderful stories to tell all of you when I finally do come home.
You've managed to make me feel better, you know. Even without a return letter at all. You're very wise that way, Alexander. And I'll see you when I get home, won't I?
I'll look forward to that.
All my love,
Rosella
[/Private]
There's a story in one of my favorite fairy tale collections about a little princess with six brothers, all of them older than she. And of course, as fairy tales usually go, there's a wicked stepmother--and one who is a witch at that--who grows jealous of her husband's love for his children, so she decides to curse them all by turning them into swans. And she manages to do it, almost, except that she happens to miss the little princess with her curse. So the brothers turn into swans and fly away, and the princess is left alone and distraught with all her family taken away from her. But the princess resolves to chase after her brothers, so she runs after them as they fly away, and follows them for days and days.
One night, as she stops to rest, the six swans fly down and transform back into her brothers for a short spell, and tell her the nature of the curse they're under. They're condemned to live as swans for all but a quarter of an hour of each day, and the only way to break the spell is if someone vows to go for six years without ever smiling, or laughing, or speaking a single word, and to sew them each a shirt of thistles in the meantime. And if she slipped even once, then the curse would set, and it could never be broken again.
On my first anniversary here, I remember thinking about that story. I'd seen so many wonderful and terrible things in that one year of life in the City, and the princess in the tale went for six times that, never speaking a word, for the sake of the people she loved. It's really rather extraordinary, isn't it? The things we can do when we know someone is counting on us to succeed.
She managed quite a lot, that little princess, and on less hope than many of us have here.
It's certainly something to think about, isn't it?
Dear Alexander,
It's been a long time since I've written to you, hasn't it? I really ought to be better about that, I know, even if you never get these letters when I write them. There's no telling if they really do send through, is there? And even if they do, if time isn't moving for you in Daventry and you'll never know I've been gone at all, then the thought of writing a letter like this is a bit silly. But I suppose it's more for my sake than for yours, anyway, so I do hope you'll forgive me for that and bear with me a bit as I go.
Things...aren't going as well as I might've hoped, these days. Awful things keep happening, and every time I think I finally have them managed, some new trouble comes along and piles on top of it, and makes things harder still. People keep leaving and friends keep disappearing--Sam's been gone more than half a year, Blue's coming up on half a year now himself, and it's a few now for Duo, and Penny's been gone a month, and now Edmund and Caspian are gone, too, and Riff's just gone missing, himself--and I remember a time when it was like this before, I do, and it was terrible because so many of my friends all slipped away, but...but I miss them. And I miss you, and Mother and Daddy, and I miss Daventry. I'm going to be twenty years old in just another two months, can you believe it? And after all this time you still aren't even eighteen yet--what an odd thing, for a pair of twins.
I always find myself writing to you when I miss you, when things are starting to feel hopeless and I'm having trouble going on. You endured much worse, though, didn't you? And for much longer, still. You spent a lifetime with no other company than an awful wizard, and yet you're a magician and the savior of a kingdom and--well, and the savior of me, too. I remember I used to be so very jealous of you for that, and worried that I wasn't good enough to compare to you, now that I suddenly had a twin brother I'd never known before.
I suppose that's the other reason why I write to you, you know. Because I know how strong you are, and how you managed all those years when things must have been so hopeless, and no matter how bad things get for me, it's still better than what you managed, didn't you? And you did manage it. And if you can do it, then I can too. We're twins. That's how things are.
I'm studying magic, too. So many people have gone, and so many awful things happen here, that it just seems prudent to be ready for as much as I can. Did it frighten you, learning yours? Some adventures don't leave one the time to be frightened, I know--only the time to find a way out of whatever predicament one faces, or to perish when one can't. Perhaps it's fortunate, in a way, that things don't seem to work that way here. But I think it's unfortunate, too, since there are dangers here that are much worse than anything one might face in Daventry.
It's not just the City that's dangerous. A great many of the people are, too. And it's not just that they're evil, because many of them aren't. They're good...but dangerous. It's unsettling.
It's an unsettling place in general, this City.
I think I started writing you this letter as a means of trying to make myself feel better, and it's rather wandered all over the place in the meantime. I'm sorry for that, and if Gerwain should ever see it, I'm certain he'll complain at how disorganized my thoughts are to read. But it's helped a bit, even so, and that's what matters, I think. If nothing else, it's helped me to feel a bit closer to you, even when you're so very far away and I haven't seen you in so long.
Perhaps I ought to try writing letters to the other people I miss, too. There's about as much chance of them receiving it as there is of you getting this one, but I don't think they'd mind if I took the time out to try. And wouldn't that be a lovely thing to think of, a letter of mine traveling to Sam's Prince's Ton and to Blue's Homeland and Penny's friend's residence, and one off to you in Daventry and another off to Narnia, and to Duo in space and Kurama in his garden and Blair on her Upper East Side and Tristan in his Wall.
...I never had so many friends before I came here, Alexander.
Even if I've lost them now, isn't it still better that I knew them at all?
It is. It's better I knew them at all. Even if it means I've had to miss you and Mother and Daddy for almost two and a half years. I'll always have you waiting for me, when it's finally my turn to go home. But I wouldn't have had any of them if I hadn't ended up separated from you in the first place, and...I'm lucky, aren't I? I've always been the more fortunate of the two of us. Even when I only had Mother and Daddy, that was still so much more than you ever had at all.
And now you have Mother and Daddy and Daventry, and it's my turn to make my way on my own. But I can. I can do that. You're still waiting for me, no matter how much time passes, and oh, won't I have a world of wonderful stories to tell all of you when I finally do come home.
You've managed to make me feel better, you know. Even without a return letter at all. You're very wise that way, Alexander. And I'll see you when I get home, won't I?
I'll look forward to that.
All my love,
Rosella
[/Private]
There's a story in one of my favorite fairy tale collections about a little princess with six brothers, all of them older than she. And of course, as fairy tales usually go, there's a wicked stepmother--and one who is a witch at that--who grows jealous of her husband's love for his children, so she decides to curse them all by turning them into swans. And she manages to do it, almost, except that she happens to miss the little princess with her curse. So the brothers turn into swans and fly away, and the princess is left alone and distraught with all her family taken away from her. But the princess resolves to chase after her brothers, so she runs after them as they fly away, and follows them for days and days.
One night, as she stops to rest, the six swans fly down and transform back into her brothers for a short spell, and tell her the nature of the curse they're under. They're condemned to live as swans for all but a quarter of an hour of each day, and the only way to break the spell is if someone vows to go for six years without ever smiling, or laughing, or speaking a single word, and to sew them each a shirt of thistles in the meantime. And if she slipped even once, then the curse would set, and it could never be broken again.
On my first anniversary here, I remember thinking about that story. I'd seen so many wonderful and terrible things in that one year of life in the City, and the princess in the tale went for six times that, never speaking a word, for the sake of the people she loved. It's really rather extraordinary, isn't it? The things we can do when we know someone is counting on us to succeed.
She managed quite a lot, that little princess, and on less hope than many of us have here.
It's certainly something to think about, isn't it?
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And then that gnome stayed a friend of the family for many years thereafter, and was a delightful friend to the princess of the land, and even made her a lovely little marionette for her birthday one year, and taught her to make it dance on its strings.
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voice;
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[Also like a drunken slur.]
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