DREAMS of a CLOUD
Peruse the many random ramblings of a writer-in-training as I build stories and develop my craft.
23 September 2022
The party was grand. Jonathan and his bride-to-be were the centerpiece, of course, but the whole royal family was on display for everyone to see; even Caspir was roped into exchanging pleasantries with the well-wishers.
He hated it.
I’d actually been really surprised when Serafina, Kal’s sister, showed up as a character at the end of the previous post. I also wanted to see more of what “Prince Caspir” was like, as opposed to Kal, and I’d ended with a promise of an engagement ceremony at the end of my writing on the 22nd, so I decided to run with that and see where it went.
I think this is the best example of the difference between “gardening” style writing and “architectural”; even though I have plans for the future of this story, I kind of let whatever I thought about happening happen for this scene. Sometimes that helps me generate ideas faster than just sitting and mulling it over. The trick is being willing to throw out a lot of what I write to generate the ideas, and even more importantly knowing what to throw out; I had no idea where I was going, so there winds up being a lot of stuff that distracts from the story that needs to go.
Also, if anyone knows any sort of medieval derogatory slang term for nobility or rich folk, I’d love to hear them. Peacock was what I came up with for now. Or stuffed shirt, but I think that usually means something different.
The party was grand. Jonathan and his bride-to-be were the centerpiece, of course, but the whole royal family was on display for everyone to see; even Caspir was roped into exchanging pleasantries with the well-wishers.
He hated it.
Part of that, he admitted, was because it meant eyes were on him at all times, which kept him from slipping away in the hubbub. But part of it was also how hollow the whole thing felt; a parade of smiles and gifts and well-wishes, and not a one of them felt sincere. Even Jonathan’s dynamic with his fiancee had an air of falseness to it. And maybe it was false; Jonathan was second in line for the throne, and who he married mattered. There was no guarantee either of them had any say in the matter.
The final reason he hated the party, though, was because it left him effectively trapped. This fact was emphasized when his father slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Just look at them. Aren’t they a beautiful pair?”
“They look fake,” Caspir replied flatly.
The king’s face spasmed. “Well, either way, Jonathan is settling down. Speaking of which…”
Caspir rolled his eyes. He could already see where this was going.
His father turned to face him. “When are you going to start searching for a bride, my boy? You’ve either refused or avoided every meeting with every girl that’s been set up for you! Surely at least one of them could spark your interest?”
“I very highly doubt it,” Caspir replied. “The very fact they agreed to yet another dull tea party just to court a prince they’ve never met automatically makes them less interesting.”
Before the king could respond, the queen grabbed onto his arm and intervened. “Now, dear, Serafina’s told me he’s actually already got his eyes on someone. Perhaps we should leave him be for a bit?”
Caspir shot Serafina a cold look.. He couldn’t be sure if she was so busy chatting that she didn’t see him, or if she deliberately ignored him.
Meanwhile, the king exclaimed, “What!? Who?”
“Actually, I was hoping to find that out myself.” The queen offered Caspir that looked gentle on the surface.
With a sigh, Caspir swore he’d make Serafina pay for this. Somehow. “There’s nothing to say. We’re not even officially courting yet.”
The queen’s eyes lit up with her smile, while the king grabbed both of his shoulders. “Wait, who is this girl? It’s not the Duke of Westbury’s daughter, is it!?”
“What? No!” Caspir freed himself from his father’s grasp and straightened his shirt.
The king sighed with relief, then shot the prince a quizzical look. “Then who is it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Caspir looked aside. “I doubt you’d approve anyway.”
His mother waved his concern away. “We won’t disapprove just because she’s a commoner you met on your ‘adventures’, sweetie.”
Shocked, Caspir snapped his head toward her. The king’s jaw dropped, and he floundered to find something to say.
The queen smacked the king’s shoulder. “Oh, stop it, dear. It’s hardly a surprise, is it? Considering how our Caspir hates all the trappings of nobility.”
After he chewed on that for a moment, the king nodded cautiously. “She’s at least from the kingdom, right?”
Caspir nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, it’s not the biggest scandal that could happen. In fact, this could even boost your image with the lower class.”
“Exactly, dear.” The queen’s eyes glowed as she turned to Caspir. “So, when can we meet her?”
Caspir felt even more trapped than when the king had first pinned him down. “Wait, wait, wait! Like I said, we’re not even courting yet! Besides, she doesn’t even know I’m a prince yet…”
“Caspir Leonard Dutchins the IV. Are you, in any way, just playing with this girl’s heart?”
When he saw the storms clouding the queen’s face, Caspir began to sweat profusely. “No, of course not! I just… I’m scared of what she’ll think when she finds out I’m just another puffed-up peacock.”
22 September 2022
Ella had just finished scrubbing the chimneys at the Lester mansion - might be the nicest house in the city, apart from the palace, and no way was she gonna be allowed in there - so she was already humming herself a happy little tune. Then she caught sight of Kal, with his wild blonde hair and cocky little smile, and her heart floated right up to her head and burned her cheeks pink.
I have always loved fractured fairy tales. Or fairy tales in general, really. There is something about taking a well-known, often beloved story and tweaking it one way or another to create something new that fascinates me. As such, I’ve read a fair number of them, and I’ve kept ideas about them bouncing around in my head for quite some time.
This one came about while I was pondering the story of Cinderella. I’ve always wondered, why did the slipper only fit Cinderella? Shouldn’t shoe sizes be a thing? Most of the time that’s kind of glossed over or made irrelevant, but I’ve seen it played in interesting ways a number of times; magical shoes that won’t fit anyone but the designated wearer, Cinderella suffering from “baby foot disease”, or even the shoe itself actually being Cinderella’s cybernetic foot in Marissa Meyer’s fantastic Lunar Chronicles series (specifically the first volume, Cinder).
But I had the thought, what if the prince was manually swapping out shoes for ones that wouldn’t fit, using sleight of hand or something? That opens up a whole slew of new possibilities. How did the prince get so good at sleight of hand? Is the Cinderella he marries even the same one that dropped the shoe at the ball, or did he just use the hype to marry the girl he’d already fallen in love with?
Ella was very good at scrubbing chimneys. Most of the orphanage kids were good at some menial job or another; after all, they had to “earn their keep”, as Matron Birgit often reminded them.
She’d just finished a job at the Lester mansion - might be the nicest house in the city, apart from the palace, and no way was she gonna be allowed in there - so she was already humming herself a happy little tune. Then she caught sight of Kal, with his wild blonde hair and cocky little smile, and her heart floated right up to her head and burned her cheeks pink.
She vainly tried to scrub the soot off her face before she waved to Kal. “Heyo!”
He snapped his head to meet her gaze, and his smile got so wide it almost split his face. He sauntered over to her and leaned against a lamppost. “What brings you here?”
“Had a job at the Lester mansion. I think that might be the fanciest place I’ll ever set foot in!”
Kal laughed. “Nick anything while you were there?”
“No!” Ella pouted. “I’m not like you, I can’t just go around taking things.” she leveled a glare at Kal. “You shouldn’t either; one of these days, you’re going to get yourself caught.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.” Then he grew thoughtful. “What about the beds? They must be soft.”
Ella looked away. “I… I thought about that one.”
“Hoh!” Kal’s eyes gleamed expectantly.
Her blush brightened to cherry red as she explained, “I, I couldn’t! We can’t all be rulebreakers like you. And, and… Their sheets were so white! I didn’t know you could even get fabric that white. And it felt like a shame to dirty it, especially when I thought about how much work their maids must do to get ‘em that way, and–”
Kal roared with laughter, and even when Ella puffed out her cheeks, the sound got her heart fluttering like a whole swarm of butterflies. “I got you something,” he said. He reached behind her ear, causing her whole face to turn its brightest shade of red yet, and pulled out a beautiful hairpin, with a white enamel lily,
Ella’s eyes widened, and she hesitated to touch it for fear of getting it dirty. “Did… did you steal this?” For me?, she added mentally.
“Nope. I’ve got an older sister who was getting rid of it, so I asked her if I could take it instead.
Ella knew he was lying; he had the same embarrassed half-smile he always got when he made stuff up about his family. Besides, only one of the peacocks could afford something like this. Still, it made her happy. “Thank you. It’s very pretty.”
“Of course. It needed to match you, after all.” He reached up to put it in her hair before she could even react to this compliment.
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Then Ella brushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I should probably get back. If I’m gone too long, Matron Birgit will get upset. She’s been a lot more on edge recently.”
“Yeah. Uh, yeah.” Kal nervously scuffed his toe. “I, uh… I’ll see you again soon, then?”
Ella nodded and began to leave, and gave him a small wave goodbye before she scurried off. She skipped the whole way home.
Prince Caspir Leonard Dutchins IV, fourth child and third son of King Edward and Queen Alisonde, practically danced his way to his older sister Serafina’s room. He gave a quick knock, and as soon as he heard her call “Enter”, he strode in.
Serafina took one look at his goofy grin and went back to fussing with her hair. “It went well, I take it?”
Caspir gave her an exaggerated bow. “Thank you, dear sister, for your generosity. She loved it.”
“You know, you’re going to have to let us know who she is at some point, right? Rumors are spreading, and Mother is getting curious.” She gave him a sly smile. “Also, I kind of want to meet this girl.”
Caspir grimaced, and watched her for a moment. “Is there something going on tonight?”
The deadpan look Serafina gave im could have frozen a volcano. “Jonathan’s engagement ceremony?”
“Wait, that’s tonight?!”
Serafina nodded gravely.
“Crap, Theodore is going to kill me.” He bolted out of the room as he called out, “Thank you again, sister!”
Serafina could only shake her head.
17 September 2022
When I opened my eyes, or whatever I used to see in this astral projection, I stood in a hallway with a red velvet rug running down its length. Scattered down the hall on both sides were doors of every possible shape, size, and material, interspersed with countless small tables. Some had random items, like dolls, books, or even a pair of old boots, whole others projected a 3d image from the surface. The one in front of me had an image of the guard she’d been arguing with before.
This is where I started figuring out the beginnings of who Elsenaia really is as a character. It still took me quite a while after this to figure out, and I didn’t quite have a good image of her mental landscape, but it’s where it started. It’s also a lot more focused on the romcom side of the story than some of my more recent shorts set with her.
You’ll see later, but most of this has been rewritten at least once. It’s liable to happen again; it’s just a fun concept to play with.
When I opened my eyes, or whatever I used to see in this astral projection, I stood in a hallway with a red velvet rug running down its length. Scattered down the hall on both sides were doors of every possible shape, size, and material, interspersed with countless small tables. Some had random items, like dolls, books, or even a pair of old boots, whole others projected a 3d image from the surface. The one in front of me had an image of the guard she’d been arguing with before.
I reached out to touch it, and the image sprang to life. “...mean to bond with this… human trash!?” The words were clearly not English, but somehow my brain could interpret what was being said perfectly, as if I’d known Elvish all my life.
Around me, I could feel as the palace itself grew indignant, and the princess’ voice replied, “Of course not! This is merely an interrogation, and it will not be–”
The hallway warped at that moment, and Elsenaia’s voice entered my head directly. “Wha… How did you… You’re not supposed to be here!”
I looked around and stepped back from the image of the guard. “Oh? Why not?”
“Because I’m supposed to be searching your mind, not the other way around!”
I cock my head for a moment. “Aren’t you, though?” Indeed, when I focused on it, I could feel Elsenaia where she’d looked through some of my more recent memories.
“Yes, but–”
“Then what’s the harm?” I ignored the twinge of embarrassment and panic emanating from the palace around me, and picked up a teddy bear from one of the tables. I immediately learned it had been a gift from Tairsi, before… something. A flash of pain and loneliness, and it felt like the memory was cut off.
“Nooo!” Elsenaia popped into existence before me, snatching the bear from me before clutching it to her chest. Instead of her fancy dress and tiara, she wore a simple white one-piece dress, and her hair was loose.
Before I could stop myself, I muttered, “Yep. You definitely look way more adorable relaxed like that.”
Elsenaia’s jaw dropped, and her face flushed pink before turning full-on scarlet. She turned and ran down the hall, still hugging the bear, waves of embarrassment and bewilderment pouring off the palace walls.