Et tu, Pené?

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Et tu, Pené?; short story
Topic Started: Jun 1 2007, 10:58 PM (88 Views)
Morgan	Jun 1 2007, 10:58 PM Post #1
Dinkin' flicka. Posts: 1,878 Group: Staff Member #2 Joined: June 28, 2006 Gender: Male Name: Morgan Location: Sarasota, FL Last.fm: rockon1824	I've been working on my story writing, trying to develop it a little bit. I'm not too fond of this one but I'm trying to gauge whether or not my writing itself is improving at all. Et tu, Pené? . . . . . . . . . . Marc walked gracefully up to me, unarmed, in order to discuss a truce to settle our dispute for the throne. I quickly pulled a gun from my pocket and shot him. Wrong, I know, but it needed to be done. As the now undisputed ruler of the island, I walked calmly to the window to overlook my kingdom. Children were laughing in the streets; birds were chirping in the trees; the people were buzzing busily in the market. I called in my servant. “Clean that up,” I said to him, waving my finger in the general direction of Marc’s fresh corpse while keeping my focus on the world outside the castle walls. In the next few minutes I watched the faces on the street as the news of Marc’s death passed through the town. Some began to weep, some danced with joy, most just turned to the closest person to tell them without even digesting it. . . . . . . . . . . There was a feeble knock on the door. My servant came in. “Sir, I’m sorry, King, the Council of Elders wishes to speak with you.” . . . . . . . . . . “Tell them they’ve been dissolved,” I replied nonchalantly, still refusing to turn around. Yes, my first move as king was to do away with those nagging bastards. What, they could tell me how to rule my domain simply because they are old? No, no, I think not. . . . . . . . . . . After an hour or so of plotting my next action, I called in my servant again. “Go fetch every beautiful woman in the land for me to pick a queen from,” I told him. . . . . . . . . . . “Surely you want only the daughters of the noble families, King John?” he asked. . . . . . . . . . . “No,” I answered, “in fact, I don’t want any aristocratic women at all.” I had no reason to suck up to rich people; they held no influence any more. . . . . . . . . . . After he had assembled the women, I hastily surveyed them. They weren’t a bad bunch; any of them would be fine for my wife. I ended up choosing a fair blonde girl, who seemed to have an extra twinkle in her eye that made her stand out from the other women. She intrigued me. . . . . . . . . . . I had the servant girls take her to prepare her for our marriage ceremony that evening. I went into my father’s closet and pulled out some of his finest robes to wear during the ceremony. My father had died a few days ago unexpectedly, not naming which of his twin sons was to succeed him. Of course, Marc and I argued and fought bitterly over it until I realized what must be done, and did it. It’s such a sad, sad thing to lose two family members in such a short period of time… . . . . . . . . . . Later that night the ceremony had been prepared for by the rest of the town and it was time to walk down the aisle. At my request it had been set up on the beach instead of the usual location in the center of the town. There was a large, gold-painted wooden arc built by the town’s carpenters that stood at the edge of the water, under which a priest stood to marry the girl and I. The town citizens sat in rows of white chairs set up at an angle towards the arc on either side of the aisle. However, the aisle was the most stunning part. It consisted of a piece of the finest silk fabric, purple and embroidered in a gold oscillating design that ran down each side. It was laid gently over the sand, stretching from where the beach met the town to the arc. . . . . . . . . . . I sauntered down the aisle slowly, letting the entire town take in the sight of its new king, as my servants held the tail of my robe. I finally reached the altar and stood before the priest, awaiting my bride to follow. Within a few minutes she appeared, with the female servants behind her, holding her dress from the sand. She looked beautiful, innocent, and charming, with the sparkle in her eye shining brighter than ever, betraying her stoic expression for the true excitement that lay beneath it. After all, she was marrying a king. I tried to remember her name to see if it matched her description as names often do, but realized I could not place it. Yet there was something about her that seemed very familiar…perhaps she had been a servant at the castle at one time or another. . . . . . . . . . . Once she reached the archway, the priest began the ceremony. He spoke in a calm, soothing cadence that put everyone present at peace. I looked up into the gorgeous face of my bride and noticed she was wearing a very odd expression on it, a mix between illness and anger. I thought about stopping the priest to see if anything was wrong, but thought better of it due to the attention it would bring. Finally, he looked at her and asked if she’d take me to be her lawfully wedded husband. After slight hesitation, she forced out a slightly choked “I do” and the color flushed from her face. I was worried, but the ceremony was near its end; she probably was just over-excited anyway. . . . . . . . . . . Then, the priest turned to me, smiling, and asked me, “And do you, King John, take Penelope Thompson to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I formed the words “I do” in my throat and opened my mouth to utter them, but was interrupted by a sharp pain in my side. I looked down quickly to find a dagger being pulled out of me, now blood-stained, by the fair hand of my newly wedded wife. I gazed up at her at disbelief to find the same anger stricken, sickly look upon her face, and her eyes fixed irately into mine, the aggressive twinkle gone. In the same rough, stifled voice as before she growled, “Penny, fiancée of the late King Marc,” and thrust the dagger through my heart.
	If If you If you could If you could only If you could only stop If you could only stop your If you could only stop your heart If you could only stop your heart beat If you could only stop your heart beat for If you could only stop your heart beat for one heart If you could only stop your heart beat for one heart beat.


ana	Jul 10 2007, 12:09 AM Post #2
eskizo Posts: 5,763 Group: Staff Member #27 Joined: June 29, 2006 Gender: Female Name: Ana Location: Madrid	sweet. the story itself is pretty cool, and your prose writing's certainly improved, morgan. i quite like how you keep things simple, though wording everything very well, and i especially like about it that it reads easily - it's not at all hard to imagine how this would sound if read aloud, you know, and that's very good for a story. me likes.
	I'M SPAINISH! *I DOSENT SPLEL WEL!*


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