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31_days2011-01-04 10:23 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-01-04 10:23 pm
[Jan 4][Belgariad/Malloreon] Practice Makes Perfect
Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Day / Theme: Jan 4 / Just a little bit of history repeating
Series: The Belgariad /Malloreon cycles
Characters: Garion, Ce’nedra
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
“It’s really similar,” the queen murmured under her breath, pausing her sewing to look out into the night.
Though it was a cool autumn evening, she left her window open to be able to glimpse the every-present glint of the sea beyond the severe, square roofs of the fortress island. Her son was reclined against the warm bulk of his drowsing wolf, deeply engrossed by the one-ended knot of wood. Her husband had brought his nightly reading with him, forgoing his study in favor of the heat generated by a greater collection of bodies.
“What’s that, dear?” he asked absently.
“Remember, you were talking about repetitions our entire journey?” she said. “Zakath and Cyradis is an example, right?”
Garion had stiffened slightly at the word “repetition,” but relaxed when her words touched lighter subjects. “I don’t think it works that way,” he said, sticking to his book.
“It works out like that,” insisted Ce’Nedra. “The King of Riva marries his betrothed princess, while the Emperor of Mallorea marries the Seeress of Kell, for an equally formal reason to take the place of her fallen Guide.”
The said king was unconvinced. “I think that’s stretching it a bit.”
“I don’t think so,” his wife continued placidly. “All you besotted monarchs, making up excuses for marrying the women of your dreams. The King of the Murgos marries the Princess, with whom he rode unescorted in his campaign to save his besieged city, to protect her purity. And then, there’s Lady Tamazin, who married the royal seneschal, the man loyal to the king for years and virtually his father. Isn’t that just like Aunt Pol and Durnik?”
Garion scratched his sandy head. “Honestly, I think it was the effects of seeing their worlds almost end as they knew it. That’s what caused the… what did Silk call it? The universal jump into matrimony. Besides, I distinctly remember you being forced into it. Cyradis and Prala sort of made theirs happen.”
Ce’Nedra gave him an arch look and, for once, let silence speak for her.
“Well, the prophecy became one for a reason.” Her husband turned to logic now, after a few moments of squirming. “There shouldn’t be any repetitions—”
“Not repetitions, but echoes.” The word just came to her, and it sounded perfect. “The similarities are mere echoes.”
Garion blinked. “Well, yes, echoes.”
“Because the world bears aspects of the two that had only been its potential before. Otherwise, wouldn’t we have been as good as destroyed?”
“You’re so clever,” accused the overlord of the west, retreating back to his prophecies---purely academic in purpose, he clarified. Though she suspected it was for the comfort of old habits and the amusements of a quick mind easily bored.
“And here you thought I was just being a romantic sap.” The redheaded queen stretched to her full, not so substantial height, and made her way to her husband’s side. “Though it’s not every day a girl’s love life is predicted hundreds of years before her birth. It makes one feel very special. It’s definitely echoes, then,” she decided, kissed her husband, and took her son to bed. “It’s not the same as when the Child of Light marries his pre-ordained bride.”
Garion took it all in stride, glad she was in a mellow mood. The good thing with repetitions---or echoes, as she called them---was that he somewhat knew what to expect and that had some practice. What with the undisclosed number of promised daughters, he had to get used to it somehow.
“Practice makes perfect, dear,” he called out after his wife.
2212 01042011
Day / Theme: Jan 4 / Just a little bit of history repeating
Series: The Belgariad /Malloreon cycles
Characters: Garion, Ce’nedra
Rating: G
Word Count: 600
“It’s really similar,” the queen murmured under her breath, pausing her sewing to look out into the night.
Though it was a cool autumn evening, she left her window open to be able to glimpse the every-present glint of the sea beyond the severe, square roofs of the fortress island. Her son was reclined against the warm bulk of his drowsing wolf, deeply engrossed by the one-ended knot of wood. Her husband had brought his nightly reading with him, forgoing his study in favor of the heat generated by a greater collection of bodies.
“What’s that, dear?” he asked absently.
“Remember, you were talking about repetitions our entire journey?” she said. “Zakath and Cyradis is an example, right?”
Garion had stiffened slightly at the word “repetition,” but relaxed when her words touched lighter subjects. “I don’t think it works that way,” he said, sticking to his book.
“It works out like that,” insisted Ce’Nedra. “The King of Riva marries his betrothed princess, while the Emperor of Mallorea marries the Seeress of Kell, for an equally formal reason to take the place of her fallen Guide.”
The said king was unconvinced. “I think that’s stretching it a bit.”
“I don’t think so,” his wife continued placidly. “All you besotted monarchs, making up excuses for marrying the women of your dreams. The King of the Murgos marries the Princess, with whom he rode unescorted in his campaign to save his besieged city, to protect her purity. And then, there’s Lady Tamazin, who married the royal seneschal, the man loyal to the king for years and virtually his father. Isn’t that just like Aunt Pol and Durnik?”
Garion scratched his sandy head. “Honestly, I think it was the effects of seeing their worlds almost end as they knew it. That’s what caused the… what did Silk call it? The universal jump into matrimony. Besides, I distinctly remember you being forced into it. Cyradis and Prala sort of made theirs happen.”
Ce’Nedra gave him an arch look and, for once, let silence speak for her.
“Well, the prophecy became one for a reason.” Her husband turned to logic now, after a few moments of squirming. “There shouldn’t be any repetitions—”
“Not repetitions, but echoes.” The word just came to her, and it sounded perfect. “The similarities are mere echoes.”
Garion blinked. “Well, yes, echoes.”
“Because the world bears aspects of the two that had only been its potential before. Otherwise, wouldn’t we have been as good as destroyed?”
“You’re so clever,” accused the overlord of the west, retreating back to his prophecies---purely academic in purpose, he clarified. Though she suspected it was for the comfort of old habits and the amusements of a quick mind easily bored.
“And here you thought I was just being a romantic sap.” The redheaded queen stretched to her full, not so substantial height, and made her way to her husband’s side. “Though it’s not every day a girl’s love life is predicted hundreds of years before her birth. It makes one feel very special. It’s definitely echoes, then,” she decided, kissed her husband, and took her son to bed. “It’s not the same as when the Child of Light marries his pre-ordained bride.”
Garion took it all in stride, glad she was in a mellow mood. The good thing with repetitions---or echoes, as she called them---was that he somewhat knew what to expect and that had some practice. What with the undisclosed number of promised daughters, he had to get used to it somehow.
“Practice makes perfect, dear,” he called out after his wife.
2212 01042011