DISCLAIMER: *sniffle* sadly enough, all of this (except for unfamiliar
characters, like Firali) is Garth Nix's, not mine. *whine* But I
/waaaannnnnnnnaaaaa/ have them! *sulk*
Hope you've noticed I've edited this a bit. In the future, by the way, if you're going to read this (please!), remember to check the old chapters, too, because they're gonna be revised a lot, and there may be some significant changes. Thank you sooo much, everyone who reviewed, I appreciate both the suggestions and the compliments. (Especially the compliments, lol!) But I do. And, yayyy! I finally read Abhorsen, so my canon should be a little better from now on.
erialarrowman: I tried to add more physical descriptions, what do you think?
Swanny: Thanks, that was a reeaaallllllllyyy nice review! Sorry about the chapter being repeated thing, my stupid computer messed it up. I've changed it back (duh). And I've (yay!) written more. Please tell me how much better (or worse, for that matter) I could be!
Kavindra Miette: *blush* Thanks!!! I was in a kinda dramatic mood when I was getting up to the bird part, and then I read over what I'd written, giggled, and added the bird chirping. I moved it to the next chapter, though. I think "She's gone" is a nice chapter ending. Please keep reviewing!
melody: gosh, thanks! You have no idea how good that made me feel to read. You brightened up my day. (-:
otakuprincess: thanks, hope you got my email. Hope you're having fun in Hawaii, send me a coconut!
Today was /not/ going to be a good day. Princess Firali was certain of it, in an almost subconscious, splinter-just-beneath-the-skin sort of way. As she paced back and forth, something she did not usually do, she tugged absently on a lock of her straight, raven-black hair. Her skin, naturally pale, was white as a sheet. /Charter blast it/, she cursed to herself, '/what is *wrong* with me?/
It wasn't normal for the lighthearted young princess to act this way. There wasn't even a direct reason to pinpoint for her feelings of foreboding and depression. She was scarcely aware that what she was feeling was indeed foreboding-- just that this was, on the whole, a gloomy, dismal world, and certainly wouldn't get better today.
With a visible effort, Firali shook the feeling off. She forced herself to dance down the hall, imitating the pointless glee habitual only to the young. Suddenly, she skidded to a halt, inches in front of the man who had appeared that very second.
His uniform, embroidered with golden towers, clearly marked him as a servant in the palace of the Old Kingdom's royal family. His stubborn chin, severely parted brown hair, and the pointedly dignified look in his beady eyes marked him as one who thought the above fact worth mentioning. The servant, with a look of vague distaste, stepped aside.
"Princess," he began formally, "Her majesty, the queen Ellimere of the Old Kingdom, requires your attendance in the royal chambers. Immediately."
Firali, commonly called Firi, rolled her eyes. "You mean Mother wants to talk to me?" she translated. The servant, whose name was Jalen, scowled.
"Well . . . yes," he admitted reluctantly. Firi stifled a giggle. Jalen's scowl deepened. "About . . . ?" she drew out.
"About the Abhorsen and Remembrancer Lirael Goldenhand," said Jalen stiffly. Firali's gloom dissipated a little. Her great-aunt Lirael had been gone for quite some time on some trip or another to aid the Clayr.
"You mean she's back from that trip? Great!" she cried excitedly. Lirael was half-Clayr and Firi's mentor, she would know why she was feeling like this! "Well, if she's back, I've got to meet with her for Abhorsen lessons in just a minute-- can't this wait?" It was only recently she'd found out that she was Abhorsen-In-Waiting, and Firi lost no opportunities to work it into the conversation. She also wanted to talk to her great-aunt --though Lirael was Firali's great-aunt, she was her mother's age-- as soon as possible about how she felt . . . but it was probably nothing. She was just getting carried away, Firi decided. Jalen's icy voice sliced through her thoughts as effectively as a knife through butter."I do not know if she is back or not; that is all I was told. And, /no,/ this cannot wait."
Firali considered making a fuss-- she /really/ wanted to talk to Lirael-- but she decided against it. Ellimere had been just a little . . . fragile . . . ever since Sabriel finally went past the Ninth Gate, a year or two ago. Since then, Firi had tried to be a little more understanding to her mother-- Touchstone had died within a week of his wife, and Ellimere's hard shell had cracked a bit from the double tragedy. So, heaving a great adolescent sigh, in case any were under the delusion that she was going along obediently, Firi followed Jalen to Queen Ellimere's conversation room.
The young princess nearly gasped in surprise when she saw her mother. Ellimere's normally calm countenance was now wild-eyed and flushed, and her sleek cap of hair, always piled atop her head in a no-nonsense manner, was in disarray. The complaint that was on the tip of Firali's tongue disappeared to see her mother in such a state.
"M-mother! What's wrong?!" came out instead.
"It's Lirael," came Ellimere's response, in a would-be-calm sort of voice. "She's gone."
Well, I changed it a little bit . . . okay, it's not much. PLEASE review and tell me what I can do better-it takes you, like, half a second, and it'll brighten up my day ( . . . I'll do the same to you, if you want.
Hope you've noticed I've edited this a bit. In the future, by the way, if you're going to read this (please!), remember to check the old chapters, too, because they're gonna be revised a lot, and there may be some significant changes. Thank you sooo much, everyone who reviewed, I appreciate both the suggestions and the compliments. (Especially the compliments, lol!) But I do. And, yayyy! I finally read Abhorsen, so my canon should be a little better from now on.
erialarrowman: I tried to add more physical descriptions, what do you think?
Swanny: Thanks, that was a reeaaallllllllyyy nice review! Sorry about the chapter being repeated thing, my stupid computer messed it up. I've changed it back (duh). And I've (yay!) written more. Please tell me how much better (or worse, for that matter) I could be!
Kavindra Miette: *blush* Thanks!!! I was in a kinda dramatic mood when I was getting up to the bird part, and then I read over what I'd written, giggled, and added the bird chirping. I moved it to the next chapter, though. I think "She's gone" is a nice chapter ending. Please keep reviewing!
melody: gosh, thanks! You have no idea how good that made me feel to read. You brightened up my day. (-:
otakuprincess: thanks, hope you got my email. Hope you're having fun in Hawaii, send me a coconut!
Today was /not/ going to be a good day. Princess Firali was certain of it, in an almost subconscious, splinter-just-beneath-the-skin sort of way. As she paced back and forth, something she did not usually do, she tugged absently on a lock of her straight, raven-black hair. Her skin, naturally pale, was white as a sheet. /Charter blast it/, she cursed to herself, '/what is *wrong* with me?/
It wasn't normal for the lighthearted young princess to act this way. There wasn't even a direct reason to pinpoint for her feelings of foreboding and depression. She was scarcely aware that what she was feeling was indeed foreboding-- just that this was, on the whole, a gloomy, dismal world, and certainly wouldn't get better today.
With a visible effort, Firali shook the feeling off. She forced herself to dance down the hall, imitating the pointless glee habitual only to the young. Suddenly, she skidded to a halt, inches in front of the man who had appeared that very second.
His uniform, embroidered with golden towers, clearly marked him as a servant in the palace of the Old Kingdom's royal family. His stubborn chin, severely parted brown hair, and the pointedly dignified look in his beady eyes marked him as one who thought the above fact worth mentioning. The servant, with a look of vague distaste, stepped aside.
"Princess," he began formally, "Her majesty, the queen Ellimere of the Old Kingdom, requires your attendance in the royal chambers. Immediately."
Firali, commonly called Firi, rolled her eyes. "You mean Mother wants to talk to me?" she translated. The servant, whose name was Jalen, scowled.
"Well . . . yes," he admitted reluctantly. Firi stifled a giggle. Jalen's scowl deepened. "About . . . ?" she drew out.
"About the Abhorsen and Remembrancer Lirael Goldenhand," said Jalen stiffly. Firali's gloom dissipated a little. Her great-aunt Lirael had been gone for quite some time on some trip or another to aid the Clayr.
"You mean she's back from that trip? Great!" she cried excitedly. Lirael was half-Clayr and Firi's mentor, she would know why she was feeling like this! "Well, if she's back, I've got to meet with her for Abhorsen lessons in just a minute-- can't this wait?" It was only recently she'd found out that she was Abhorsen-In-Waiting, and Firi lost no opportunities to work it into the conversation. She also wanted to talk to her great-aunt --though Lirael was Firali's great-aunt, she was her mother's age-- as soon as possible about how she felt . . . but it was probably nothing. She was just getting carried away, Firi decided. Jalen's icy voice sliced through her thoughts as effectively as a knife through butter."I do not know if she is back or not; that is all I was told. And, /no,/ this cannot wait."
Firali considered making a fuss-- she /really/ wanted to talk to Lirael-- but she decided against it. Ellimere had been just a little . . . fragile . . . ever since Sabriel finally went past the Ninth Gate, a year or two ago. Since then, Firi had tried to be a little more understanding to her mother-- Touchstone had died within a week of his wife, and Ellimere's hard shell had cracked a bit from the double tragedy. So, heaving a great adolescent sigh, in case any were under the delusion that she was going along obediently, Firi followed Jalen to Queen Ellimere's conversation room.
The young princess nearly gasped in surprise when she saw her mother. Ellimere's normally calm countenance was now wild-eyed and flushed, and her sleek cap of hair, always piled atop her head in a no-nonsense manner, was in disarray. The complaint that was on the tip of Firali's tongue disappeared to see her mother in such a state.
"M-mother! What's wrong?!" came out instead.
"It's Lirael," came Ellimere's response, in a would-be-calm sort of voice. "She's gone."
Well, I changed it a little bit . . . okay, it's not much. PLEASE review and tell me what I can do better-it takes you, like, half a second, and it'll brighten up my day ( . . . I'll do the same to you, if you want.