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31_days2005-08-24 11:36 pm
blankmeridian.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-08-24 11:36 pm
[August 24th] [Bridge to Terabithia] Long Live the Queen
Title: Long Live the Queen
Day/Theme: Aug 24/"I am waylaid by Beauty"
Series: Bridge to Terabithia
Character/Pairing: Jess, Leslie, May Belle
Rating: PG
"May Belle, you gotta sit up straighter’n’ that. Queens don’t slouch."
Jess grinned as his little sister gave him a look of sheer sass that would have rivaled Leslie’s.
"Queens oughta have proper thrones, too, but you ain’t made me one a’ those yet," she retorted airily, in the way that only eight year olds could. He poked her cheek ("Hey!") and lay back onto the scratchy grass that served as the floor of their fortress. Behind his closed eyes, light and color swirled and shimmered into form, into a throne with inlaid gold, rippling red velvet cushioning, a towering chairback of white marble rising into decorative spires. He constructed it in is mind: planks of wood from behind the shed, these flowers for the jewels, a piece of that old dress of May Belle’s for the seat fabric. Sinking farther into the daydream, he envisioned the way the paint would gleam in the sun slanting through the fortress roof.
Leslie would look it over and flash him an appreciative smile, declaring in her best Queen voice, "A worthy creation for the rulers of Terabithia, my Lord."
"It ain’t much," he’d reply, scuffing his toe and secretly bursting with pride. She’d roll her eyes.
"My Lord," she would reprimand with affected politeness, "Dignity should be observed both in one’s actions and in one’s choice of words. Please try to use speech befitting of a king."
Putting on his most serious face, he would bow and say, "It ain’t much, my queenliest thou."
"Jesse Aarons!" she would shriek, laughing, and she’d hurl the tin can used for leaks at his head. He’d dodge and splash water from the creek onto her t-shirt, and then run for his life, projectile pinecones and declarations of war being fired off with gusto by the rampaging Queen behind him. The carefully crafted throne would sit impressively in the corner of the fortress, forgotten for their boisterous merriment.
"What’cha thinkin’ about, Jess?" May Belle peered over him, her big eyes all wonderment and no impudence, for once.
Exhaling, he pushed himself up and affected a casual air. "I was thinkin’ if you can keep Brenda outta my hair for an afternoon, I might make you that throne a’ yours." Her little mouth fell into an ‘o,’ childish delight stealing across her face.
"Really, Jess? A real throne, with emeralds an’ diamonds an’ everything?"
"Don’t be a goose, May Belle," -her face contorted into a chubby-cheeked scowl- "Where on earth we gonna get emeralds an’ diamonds? We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got."
She considered this, and then dashed off, apparently inspired, chattering, "An’ I can use that old jewelry box for a footstool...an’ those buttons...an’ daisies all around the sides..."
Jess shook his head, looking out to the placidly chugging creek. It flashed cheerfully in the sunlight, winking at him, teasing, what are you hanging about here for? A year had passed, and it wasn’t anybody’s grave anymore.
"We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got."
Taking his own advice, Jess turned around to follow May Belle.
Day/Theme: Aug 24/"I am waylaid by Beauty"
Series: Bridge to Terabithia
Character/Pairing: Jess, Leslie, May Belle
Rating: PG
"May Belle, you gotta sit up straighter’n’ that. Queens don’t slouch."
Jess grinned as his little sister gave him a look of sheer sass that would have rivaled Leslie’s.
"Queens oughta have proper thrones, too, but you ain’t made me one a’ those yet," she retorted airily, in the way that only eight year olds could. He poked her cheek ("Hey!") and lay back onto the scratchy grass that served as the floor of their fortress. Behind his closed eyes, light and color swirled and shimmered into form, into a throne with inlaid gold, rippling red velvet cushioning, a towering chairback of white marble rising into decorative spires. He constructed it in is mind: planks of wood from behind the shed, these flowers for the jewels, a piece of that old dress of May Belle’s for the seat fabric. Sinking farther into the daydream, he envisioned the way the paint would gleam in the sun slanting through the fortress roof.
Leslie would look it over and flash him an appreciative smile, declaring in her best Queen voice, "A worthy creation for the rulers of Terabithia, my Lord."
"It ain’t much," he’d reply, scuffing his toe and secretly bursting with pride. She’d roll her eyes.
"My Lord," she would reprimand with affected politeness, "Dignity should be observed both in one’s actions and in one’s choice of words. Please try to use speech befitting of a king."
Putting on his most serious face, he would bow and say, "It ain’t much, my queenliest thou."
"Jesse Aarons!" she would shriek, laughing, and she’d hurl the tin can used for leaks at his head. He’d dodge and splash water from the creek onto her t-shirt, and then run for his life, projectile pinecones and declarations of war being fired off with gusto by the rampaging Queen behind him. The carefully crafted throne would sit impressively in the corner of the fortress, forgotten for their boisterous merriment.
"What’cha thinkin’ about, Jess?" May Belle peered over him, her big eyes all wonderment and no impudence, for once.
Exhaling, he pushed himself up and affected a casual air. "I was thinkin’ if you can keep Brenda outta my hair for an afternoon, I might make you that throne a’ yours." Her little mouth fell into an ‘o,’ childish delight stealing across her face.
"Really, Jess? A real throne, with emeralds an’ diamonds an’ everything?"
"Don’t be a goose, May Belle," -her face contorted into a chubby-cheeked scowl- "Where on earth we gonna get emeralds an’ diamonds? We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got."
She considered this, and then dashed off, apparently inspired, chattering, "An’ I can use that old jewelry box for a footstool...an’ those buttons...an’ daisies all around the sides..."
Jess shook his head, looking out to the placidly chugging creek. It flashed cheerfully in the sunlight, winking at him, teasing, what are you hanging about here for? A year had passed, and it wasn’t anybody’s grave anymore.
"We’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got."
Taking his own advice, Jess turned around to follow May Belle.