Alfred heard leather wings hit wind and anxious voices both in his head and outside it. He blocked out both of them by simply focusing on economy of movement. He had to admit, this new body was much easier to move through skinny places. And no, he hadn’t been fat in the first place either! The satyr’s music was still floating on tendrils of the breeze, and as he pushed through a particularly thick thicket (resulting in some minor cuts with healed almost instantaneously) he caught sight of two more dryads half drifting, half dancing in the direction he was going. “Hey!” he called, hoping that the voice would startle them into awareness of what was going on! No dice. Damn! That made his job hard, really hard. How the hell was he going to stop this?
For about eight minutes, Alfred trailblazed through the forest, although the pines were gradually giving away to grass and beeches. The longer he travelled, the more girls he saw. This wasn’t fair! None of it was fair!
Alfred came to a clearing, and sprinted to catch up with a bark-colored girl, her chestnut hair intricately braided. He strained to put a hand on her shoulder, roughly grabbing her, pulling her to a stop. For a silent moment punctuated only by Alfred’s sharp breathing, there was a confused look on her face that for a split second turned to fear, and then it was gone with a few lilting notes again. Her face turned as blank as a doll’s, and she stood pliantly in front of him, a benign, empty smile on her lovely face.
Oh no, what? He thought he had something… Alfred grabbed her by both shoulders and began to shake her, telling her forcefully that she needed to leave. “Wake up, wake up! If you go any further, they’ll, they’ll!” Alfred’s voice broke. “Look, you can’t! Go back to your tree, go back to giggling! I don’t mind, I really don’t!” He dropped his hands from her slim frame.
She stood there for half a moment more, and then turned, and began her graceful dance in the direction of the music.
“Damn!” Alfred swore under his breath. He still had to stop this somehow! Alfred rubbed his palms on his pants, and followed her.
After two minutes more, he came to a much larger clearing, covered in grass and flowers. And there they were. About thirty of the dryads were dancing feverishly, gracefully in the yellow light, all shades of brown and green and cream. Off to the side stood around ten satyrs, playing their music. The only thing Alfred could do for a moment was stare in disbelief from his spot crouched in the bushes. He knew it was coming, but it was so odd to see half men, half goats! Their curly brown hair combined seamlessly into their clean upper bodies, with more hair on their forearms, matching the shade of the curls on their heads. One of them was sat on the ground, lounging on the grass while his plucked at his, what was it called, a lyre, right, and Alfred could see the cloven hooves. Alfred took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Their instruments ranged from pipes flute things to harps to recorders to weird guitars to shells to tambourines to horns, like actual horns! Weird instruments, just weird, everything about this place was weird. An odd side thought of Roderich drifted through his mind, about how he’d find this music, was quickly dismissed from his mind. Alfred needed to focus. How could he stop this, how could he stop this… His hands were on his thighs, and with a small fidget, his left wrist brushed against Bess’s holster. Perhaps… could he shoot them? Make them stop before they committed… It wasn’t self-defense, but it was in defense of another… And there was no guarantee at this distance he wouldn’t hit one of the girls in the process…
A cool, firm hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and Alfred looked up to see Aengus crouched next to him as well. “Come on, lad, we should get going before they stop playing the music.”
“What happens when they stop playing?” Alfred asked, though his squirming stomach already knew.
“That’s when the girls wake up and the chase begins.” Aengus said quietly. “It’s in their natures for this to ‘appen; it’s the way it all balances out.”
“How can they not see that what they’re doing is wrong?” Alfred’s eyes began to water a little, and he wiped them hurriedly.
“I told you, the fae aren’t like you and me.” Aengus replied. “They don’t ‘ave much in the way of empathy, or regret. That’s why those banshees guarded that gate. No fae would ‘ave fell prey to them, for they regret nothing.”
“Alright, alright.” Alfred didn’t need to be reminded of what went on there. What could he do? “What do satyrs like best in the world?” Alfred asked, hoping that if he gave them a choice, they’d choose the other.
“Wine and women.” Aengus answered shortly. “And unless you’ve got vast quantities of wine or a miracle tucked up your sleeve, this isn’t going to stop. Trust me, I tried many times in my youth.” Cool fingers wrapped around his forearm. “C’mon, you don’t wanna see this.”
Alfred’s mind was drawing a blank. Nothing. There was nothing he could do. He stood, Aengus’s guiding hands letting him have a moment before he was led away.
And then Alfred got a crazy idea. In a flash, he drew Bess and Amy, and then took careful aim. “What? What’re ye doing?” Aengus yelped from behind him, but Alfred didn’t focus on in, instead zeroing in on his target. Breathe in, breathe out, eyes closed, blink, eyes open, breathe in, focus, pull trigger.
Bang! The noise startled everyone in the clearing, and a tiny hole appeared in the side of a fat violin, interrupting the music. Bang! The shell shattered. No one in the clearing seemed to know what was going on. The satyrs looked everywhere for the source of the noise, the eight with instruments kept playing at a feverish pace to keep the girls dancing, though the dancing was a bit disjointed now with the loss of instruments. It would only be a minute or two before they saw him, he really wasn’t that far away. This was all so different from Narnia… Perhaps, perhaps they would stop now? He couldn’t hit the pipes without hitting the person behind them, same thing with the lyre…
As one the satyrs looked at each other and seemed to shrug, and then they all put down their instruments as one, stopping the music. Alfred’s breath hitched. The girls stopped dancing with a jolt, and blinked, dazed and confused. The satyrs stepped forward towards them, greedy fingers reaching for them.
With a scream, one of the girls, the same chestnut haired one Alfred had tried to awaken earlier, jumped and began running, and a shock went through everyone, who did the same.
Alfred stood, suddenly unconcerned about being seen, and trained his guns on the satyr chasing that same girl. He had to save her, if nothing else. Breathe in, breathe out, focus –
Bang! A great roar of thunder lashed through the air, and cold rain began to pour, the world suddenly becoming dark, the winds fierce. With a gasp, Alfred stumbled backwards from the unexpected force, landing on his rear. His glasses jumped on his nose, but didn’t fall off, thankfully. Bess and Amy landed in the mud. Around him, all the goat men and the girls ran off in different directions to escape the rain, unconcerned suddenly about what had been about to happen.
This struck Alfred as ridiculously funny, and he began to laugh lightly. So he couldn’t save them, but rain could. Who knew? And as ridiculous as it was, he began to whistle “Singin’ in the Rain”. Ahh, he loved Gene Kelly. Convenient rain… what was this, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or perhaps Pleasantville?
“Oh c’mon…” Aengus growled sourly. “Let’s find Adain and get to shelter. It’ll take forever to dry out.”
Alfred looked at him incredulously. He really didn’t care about how drenched he was now, but it seemed Aengus did! Huh, ghosts could get wet! That simply made him laugh even harder, tiredness and victory and fading adrenaline making him a little loopy. All this earned him a glare from Aengus. Alfred picked up his guns from the ground with a ridiculous smile, and followed Aengus back in the direction they came.
Not too much to say about this one. This chapter is a bit of a set up chapter, so details will come back here. Also a bit more emotional. Alfred’s first saving someone without his superstrength, although it doesn’t go quite as planned… All three movies feature happy rain at the end. Also, dragon religion!
To you three who commented: Thanks a ton! I’m so glad this is so well received. Your questions will be answered in time! You keep me writing! (And I loved the cupcakes!)
I also have art for this, if you want me to post it. It helps me to see the characters when I write. There haven’t been very many visual details, as this is Alfred’s POV, and he doesn’t focus much on more than a few features. Instead of focusing on how things look, he focuses on how things move. When the narration changes, the detail selection will change as well. So if you want now to see how the characters look, give word!
Puzzle for this one: What is the instrument that Alfred shoots first?
You can sap the fellow from his strength, but you can't keep him from trying to be a hero. That's the core of this whole fill, and I liked this little example of it that it's still such a strength (and somewhat of a flaw) of his character). The scene with the dryads and the satyrs reminded me of "Fantasia." That is kind of the music that I imagined too, though I'm not sure why, since I have a very large collection of Celtic music.
All in all this was a pretty good set up chapter, I think that's because of the little action scene you gave Alfred. And, I loved Alfred's little internal monologue when he was being giggled at. It told a lot about his relationship with Arthur as well. That's one of my favorite thinks about your writing; you can be overtly writing about something but reference a lot of other things in the process that are still valuable pieces of information. And, it shows that he's so happy with his Arthur. This whole update has got my contemplating things that I can't quite put into words just yet.
As for your question: I think it is a viola. I think he would have recognised a cello as what it was, because you don't hold them the same way.
Even though they didn't in this part, I think it would be fun if the trees really did move. Never mind me though, that's the Lord of the Rings geek coming out in me...and you, well Alfred, brought it up first.
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Crowe 7e/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)For about eight minutes, Alfred trailblazed through the forest, although the pines were gradually giving away to grass and beeches. The longer he travelled, the more girls he saw. This wasn’t fair! None of it was fair!
Alfred came to a clearing, and sprinted to catch up with a bark-colored girl, her chestnut hair intricately braided. He strained to put a hand on her shoulder, roughly grabbing her, pulling her to a stop. For a silent moment punctuated only by Alfred’s sharp breathing, there was a confused look on her face that for a split second turned to fear, and then it was gone with a few lilting notes again. Her face turned as blank as a doll’s, and she stood pliantly in front of him, a benign, empty smile on her lovely face.
Oh no, what? He thought he had something… Alfred grabbed her by both shoulders and began to shake her, telling her forcefully that she needed to leave. “Wake up, wake up! If you go any further, they’ll, they’ll!” Alfred’s voice broke. “Look, you can’t! Go back to your tree, go back to giggling! I don’t mind, I really don’t!” He dropped his hands from her slim frame.
She stood there for half a moment more, and then turned, and began her graceful dance in the direction of the music.
“Damn!” Alfred swore under his breath. He still had to stop this somehow! Alfred rubbed his palms on his pants, and followed her.
After two minutes more, he came to a much larger clearing, covered in grass and flowers. And there they were. About thirty of the dryads were dancing feverishly, gracefully in the yellow light, all shades of brown and green and cream. Off to the side stood around ten satyrs, playing their music. The only thing Alfred could do for a moment was stare in disbelief from his spot crouched in the bushes. He knew it was coming, but it was so odd to see half men, half goats! Their curly brown hair combined seamlessly into their clean upper bodies, with more hair on their forearms, matching the shade of the curls on their heads. One of them was sat on the ground, lounging on the grass while his plucked at his, what was it called, a lyre, right, and Alfred could see the cloven hooves. Alfred took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Their instruments ranged from pipes flute things to harps to recorders to weird guitars to shells to tambourines to horns, like actual horns! Weird instruments, just weird, everything about this place was weird. An odd side thought of Roderich drifted through his mind, about how he’d find this music, was quickly dismissed from his mind. Alfred needed to focus. How could he stop this, how could he stop this… His hands were on his thighs, and with a small fidget, his left wrist brushed against Bess’s holster. Perhaps… could he shoot them? Make them stop before they committed… It wasn’t self-defense, but it was in defense of another… And there was no guarantee at this distance he wouldn’t hit one of the girls in the process…
A cool, firm hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and Alfred looked up to see Aengus crouched next to him as well. “Come on, lad, we should get going before they stop playing the music.”
“What happens when they stop playing?” Alfred asked, though his squirming stomach already knew.
“That’s when the girls wake up and the chase begins.” Aengus said quietly. “It’s in their natures for this to ‘appen; it’s the way it all balances out.”
Crowe 7f/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)“I told you, the fae aren’t like you and me.” Aengus replied. “They don’t ‘ave much in the way of empathy, or regret. That’s why those banshees guarded that gate. No fae would ‘ave fell prey to them, for they regret nothing.”
“Alright, alright.” Alfred didn’t need to be reminded of what went on there. What could he do? “What do satyrs like best in the world?” Alfred asked, hoping that if he gave them a choice, they’d choose the other.
“Wine and women.” Aengus answered shortly. “And unless you’ve got vast quantities of wine or a miracle tucked up your sleeve, this isn’t going to stop. Trust me, I tried many times in my youth.” Cool fingers wrapped around his forearm. “C’mon, you don’t wanna see this.”
Alfred’s mind was drawing a blank. Nothing. There was nothing he could do. He stood, Aengus’s guiding hands letting him have a moment before he was led away.
And then Alfred got a crazy idea. In a flash, he drew Bess and Amy, and then took careful aim. “What? What’re ye doing?” Aengus yelped from behind him, but Alfred didn’t focus on in, instead zeroing in on his target. Breathe in, breathe out, eyes closed, blink, eyes open, breathe in, focus, pull trigger.
Bang! The noise startled everyone in the clearing, and a tiny hole appeared in the side of a fat violin, interrupting the music. Bang! The shell shattered. No one in the clearing seemed to know what was going on. The satyrs looked everywhere for the source of the noise, the eight with instruments kept playing at a feverish pace to keep the girls dancing, though the dancing was a bit disjointed now with the loss of instruments. It would only be a minute or two before they saw him, he really wasn’t that far away. This was all so different from Narnia… Perhaps, perhaps they would stop now? He couldn’t hit the pipes without hitting the person behind them, same thing with the lyre…
As one the satyrs looked at each other and seemed to shrug, and then they all put down their instruments as one, stopping the music. Alfred’s breath hitched. The girls stopped dancing with a jolt, and blinked, dazed and confused. The satyrs stepped forward towards them, greedy fingers reaching for them.
With a scream, one of the girls, the same chestnut haired one Alfred had tried to awaken earlier, jumped and began running, and a shock went through everyone, who did the same.
Alfred stood, suddenly unconcerned about being seen, and trained his guns on the satyr chasing that same girl. He had to save her, if nothing else. Breathe in, breathe out, focus –
Bang! A great roar of thunder lashed through the air, and cold rain began to pour, the world suddenly becoming dark, the winds fierce. With a gasp, Alfred stumbled backwards from the unexpected force, landing on his rear. His glasses jumped on his nose, but didn’t fall off, thankfully. Bess and Amy landed in the mud. Around him, all the goat men and the girls ran off in different directions to escape the rain, unconcerned suddenly about what had been about to happen.
This struck Alfred as ridiculously funny, and he began to laugh lightly. So he couldn’t save them, but rain could. Who knew? And as ridiculous as it was, he began to whistle “Singin’ in the Rain”. Ahh, he loved Gene Kelly. Convenient rain… what was this, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or perhaps Pleasantville?
“Oh c’mon…” Aengus growled sourly. “Let’s find Adain and get to shelter. It’ll take forever to dry out.”
Alfred looked at him incredulously. He really didn’t care about how drenched he was now, but it seemed Aengus did! Huh, ghosts could get wet! That simply made him laugh even harder, tiredness and victory and fading adrenaline making him a little loopy. All this earned him a glare from Aengus. Alfred picked up his guns from the ground with a ridiculous smile, and followed Aengus back in the direction they came.
Crowe 7g/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)To you three who commented: Thanks a ton! I’m so glad this is so well received. Your questions will be answered in time! You keep me writing! (And I loved the cupcakes!)
I also have art for this, if you want me to post it. It helps me to see the characters when I write. There haven’t been very many visual details, as this is Alfred’s POV, and he doesn’t focus much on more than a few features. Instead of focusing on how things look, he focuses on how things move. When the narration changes, the detail selection will change as well. So if you want now to see how the characters look, give word!
Puzzle for this one: What is the instrument that Alfred shoots first?
Comments make me smile!
Re: Crowe 7g/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)Dunno, Alfie got lucky there. Angry satyrs can be nasty. The giggling trees was funny, though.
Re: Crowe 7g/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-08 01:03 am (UTC)(link)This was a wonderful chapter! I love how Alfred's hero instinct is still intact even if he doesn't have his strength. Great job, keep it up!
Re: Crowe 7g/?
(Anonymous) 2012-08-08 01:43 pm (UTC)(link)All in all this was a pretty good set up chapter, I think that's because of the little action scene you gave Alfred. And, I loved Alfred's little internal monologue when he was being giggled at. It told a lot about his relationship with Arthur as well. That's one of my favorite thinks about your writing; you can be overtly writing about something but reference a lot of other things in the process that are still valuable pieces of information. And, it shows that he's so happy with his Arthur. This whole update has got my contemplating things that I can't quite put into words just yet.
As for your question: I think it is a viola. I think he would have recognised a cello as what it was, because you don't hold them the same way.
Even though they didn't in this part, I think it would be fun if the trees really did move. Never mind me though, that's the Lord of the Rings geek coming out in me...and you, well Alfred, brought it up first.