Chapter One
Lír sat at the small round table at the scullery in front of the fire. His face was gaunt and sullen, his eyes weary. "Molly", he said. Lír's voice was raspy from the bitter, wet winds that blew throughout the castle. "Have we got any lemon for tea?"
Molly Grue looked at the distraught prince. His love for the Lady Amalthea was taking its toll on the young man, making him look older and more serious. Lír's big, round eyes lost their sparkle, except when he looked at her. She felt for him. He had never known love, from his father or a woman or anyone else. "Yes, your highness. I'll go fetch some". Molly placed a hand on Lír's shoulder for a moment, then went to fetch a lemon for his tea.
The Lady Amalthea roamed the desolate castle of King Haggard, despite the cold. Her fair hair hung around her thin white shoulders, like a halo, framing her delicate face. The wide eyes were unicorn eyes, no magic could ever change those eyes. The forest was in her eyes; the trees, the animals, all of this was her forest. Amalthea sighed. She wished she could return to her home, but she had wanted to come here. She had to bring her people home.
She thought of the prince Lír. He was a nice enough man, as far as humans went. The Lady thought it was silly of him to waste his days killing dragons and performing "heroic" tasks for her. He wrote her poems, and stole glances at her when she walked past him. Still, she did not love him. She was a unicorn, not a human princess. Nothing could ever change that, even being in this grotesque form. Amalthea hated it ; the hands where cloven hooves should have been, hair instead of a mane, a suspicious flower-shaped mark where her horn used to be. She couldn't keep on like this.
Footsteps came up behind her. They were not the long, loping steps of Schmendrick, nor were they of the short, quick walk of Molly Grue. The steps she heard was the slow, defined gait of Haggard, the king of this dreadful place. He stood behind her, and looked at her with his eyes the color of a grey midwinter day. "Out in this weather, my lady?"
"I like to watch the sea and the rain", was Amalthea's reply. "I like to watch the waves as they crash upon the rocks and lap the shore, like a cat."
"I have no use for cats", said the king. "They are filthy, flea-ridden animals."
"Like you?" She expected anger from the king, but did not fear it. She merely expected him to be angered by such a statement.
To Amalthea's surprise, Haggard chuckled. "Yes, like me". The pair stood there, watching the waves rise and fall.
Lír sat at the table with his tea, and Molly. He liked her, but he did not love her, as he did the Lady Amalthea. Molly's quick wit and warm listening skills made her a pleasant conversationalist, and the prince enjoyed his talks with her. They talked about poetry and politics, and most often Amalthea. Lír was completely in the dark about his love's identity, and all he knew of her past was what Schmendrick told them of her on their arrival. Her identity meant nothing to him, she could have been the daughter of a fearsome pirate, or a potato seller's daughter out of wedlock, it wouldn't matter. All Lír knew was that he loved her.
"Molly, why does she crumple up my poems, and dismiss my heroic deeds as if they were housecleaning? All I want is for her to love me", the prince said in exasperation.
"Give it time, Lír. The Lady Amalthea holds her what love she has tight in the tarnished silver box that is her heart. Maybe she just needs a gallant fellow like you to polish it up", was Molly's reply.
"I give up!" shouted Lír. "I shall always love her, but I am finished trying to win her heart!" With that, he pushed his teacup and saucer to the floor. It smashed into a million pieces; the prince did not blink an eye. With that, he stomped out of the room into his chambers, leaving Molly all alone in the scullery with spilt tea and a million ceramic shards scattered on the floor.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two of "Spilt Tea and a Million Ceramic Shards"
Lír sat at the small round table at the scullery in front of the fire. His face was gaunt and sullen, his eyes weary. "Molly", he said. Lír's voice was raspy from the bitter, wet winds that blew throughout the castle. "Have we got any lemon for tea?"
Molly Grue looked at the distraught prince. His love for the Lady Amalthea was taking its toll on the young man, making him look older and more serious. Lír's big, round eyes lost their sparkle, except when he looked at her. She felt for him. He had never known love, from his father or a woman or anyone else. "Yes, your highness. I'll go fetch some". Molly placed a hand on Lír's shoulder for a moment, then went to fetch a lemon for his tea.
The Lady Amalthea roamed the desolate castle of King Haggard, despite the cold. Her fair hair hung around her thin white shoulders, like a halo, framing her delicate face. The wide eyes were unicorn eyes, no magic could ever change those eyes. The forest was in her eyes; the trees, the animals, all of this was her forest. Amalthea sighed. She wished she could return to her home, but she had wanted to come here. She had to bring her people home.
She thought of the prince Lír. He was a nice enough man, as far as humans went. The Lady thought it was silly of him to waste his days killing dragons and performing "heroic" tasks for her. He wrote her poems, and stole glances at her when she walked past him. Still, she did not love him. She was a unicorn, not a human princess. Nothing could ever change that, even being in this grotesque form. Amalthea hated it ; the hands where cloven hooves should have been, hair instead of a mane, a suspicious flower-shaped mark where her horn used to be. She couldn't keep on like this.
Footsteps came up behind her. They were not the long, loping steps of Schmendrick, nor were they of the short, quick walk of Molly Grue. The steps she heard was the slow, defined gait of Haggard, the king of this dreadful place. He stood behind her, and looked at her with his eyes the color of a grey midwinter day. "Out in this weather, my lady?"
"I like to watch the sea and the rain", was Amalthea's reply. "I like to watch the waves as they crash upon the rocks and lap the shore, like a cat."
"I have no use for cats", said the king. "They are filthy, flea-ridden animals."
"Like you?" She expected anger from the king, but did not fear it. She merely expected him to be angered by such a statement.
To Amalthea's surprise, Haggard chuckled. "Yes, like me". The pair stood there, watching the waves rise and fall.
Lír sat at the table with his tea, and Molly. He liked her, but he did not love her, as he did the Lady Amalthea. Molly's quick wit and warm listening skills made her a pleasant conversationalist, and the prince enjoyed his talks with her. They talked about poetry and politics, and most often Amalthea. Lír was completely in the dark about his love's identity, and all he knew of her past was what Schmendrick told them of her on their arrival. Her identity meant nothing to him, she could have been the daughter of a fearsome pirate, or a potato seller's daughter out of wedlock, it wouldn't matter. All Lír knew was that he loved her.
"Molly, why does she crumple up my poems, and dismiss my heroic deeds as if they were housecleaning? All I want is for her to love me", the prince said in exasperation.
"Give it time, Lír. The Lady Amalthea holds her what love she has tight in the tarnished silver box that is her heart. Maybe she just needs a gallant fellow like you to polish it up", was Molly's reply.
"I give up!" shouted Lír. "I shall always love her, but I am finished trying to win her heart!" With that, he pushed his teacup and saucer to the floor. It smashed into a million pieces; the prince did not blink an eye. With that, he stomped out of the room into his chambers, leaving Molly all alone in the scullery with spilt tea and a million ceramic shards scattered on the floor.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two of "Spilt Tea and a Million Ceramic Shards"