All hail and greetings.
I have hijacked this little quote of the weak section from my more flippant half and feel no remorse for doing so. Those who do not love caffeine must be brought to understand the error of their ways by whatever means necessary.
The current quote of the week is a little more serious than usual, but it is one of my favourite passages in literature, only surpassed by a few sections of Tolkein.
It is from T.H.White's The Once and Future King, brought to fame in X-Men 2, but brilliant in it's own right, and which has another reference at the end of this chapter as well. So without further ado I give you the Explicit Liber Secundus:
'Even if you have to read it twice, like something in a history lesson, this pedigree of Mordred is a vital part of the tragedy of King Arthur. It is why Sir Thomas Mallory called his very long book the Death of Arthur…It is the tragedy, Aristotelian in nature, of sin coming home to roost. That is why we have to take note of the parentage of Arthur's son Mordred, and to remember, when the time comes that the king had slept with his own sister. He did not know he was doing so, and perhaps it may have been due to her, but it seems, in tragedy, that innocence is no reprieve.'
CRL
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Chapter 11 – Tomb With a View (to world domination)
Bill took his name rather seriously. Not Siriusly, for he was most certainly not Heir or Scion to the Moste Ancient and Noble House of Black. He was a Weasley, and disgraced family name or no, a little proud of the fact.
All this titular exploration aside, young William Shatner Weasley was boldly splitting infinitives where no Weasley had gone before. Egypt, in fact. We'd be more specific if we could, but since leaving Karnak Temple three months ago, Bill hadn't consulted a map, a guide or even a stray camel in the hope of discovering his own location. He did, at least for a while, consult a battered old compass before realising it didn't even point North. His Gryffindor sense of honour didn't stop him from swapping the compass for a hat, thus preventing our fair-haired adventurer getting heatstroke, but it did draw the line at swindling nice old ladies. He eventually swapped it with a lost looking scallywag who smelled strongly of rum and chocolat for a rather fetching tricorn.
Sufficient then to say that he was suitably clothed and in Egypt, the land that time forgot, where men were men and mummies without impugning their sense of masculinity. What sense of masculinity I hear you cry? Ancient Egyptians had more kohl on their faces than most miners. But they didn't have tables, and everyone knows that it's manly to eat off the floor. Or the backs of your servants.
Like Bill, we're wandering toward the point, with as much chance of getting there anytime soon, but don't worry, somewhere in the midst of this rambling, there is a plot. It's only a baby currently, but it will grow.
Bill cocked his hat to a jaunty angle and began to hum Imani as he walked, possessions shrunk neatly into his pockets. Just as he hit the title line "Where are you now?" his left leg sank into the sand up to the condyle of his femur.
That's interesting thought Bill Veery interesting
With the naivety born of a true Gryffindor, Mr Weasley proceeded in the only manner which he could. He fell flat on his face and straight through the sandy surface of the dune he had been climbing.
In a moment of sheer panic, or possibly heightened awareness, he thought to himself Gosh I wish I had one of those red-lycra-wearing indistinguishable backup lackeys from Gringotts with me right now!
He was distracted from this train of thought by the floor.
"Ooof"
"Are you hurt?"
A voice came to him out of the darkness, rich as a Malfoy and warm as a heating charm.
"Lumos" he said, clearly, after checking that his hat was indeed still rakishly angled. The end of his wand began to glow softly and his companion gasped with delight.
"It has been many long years since this chamber has seen the light of day, or" and here she gave a self-deprecatory laugh "even the light of a wand"
"I don't mean to be rude, and I hate to be predicatable, but where am I?"
"You are in the entrance chamber to the tomb of Queen Neferpipi"
"Oh. And you are?"
"Neferpipi"
Uh-Oh thought Bill
"Forgive my impertinence your majesty" he bowed low, in a gesture of charming subservience. "The light is rather low, and if I may be so bold?"
He paused
"Continue" she replied "and stop being a creep"
"You're rather supposed to be vitally challenged, your highness" he supplied rather weakly.
"What?"
"Passed on, no more, ceased to be, expired and gone to meet thy maker, a stiff, bereft of life, resting in peace! Your metabolic processes should now be history; you should have kicked the bucket, shuffled off the mortal coil, joined the choir invisible!! Um, that is to say, you should be an Ex-Monarch."
"Oh. Really?"
"I'm afraid so. But, on the plus side, it has been written that you would rise gloriously from the tomb and make your country powerful again."
"Cool"
"I always thought so. That legend is the reason I joined Gringotts and came out here."
"Gringotts?"
"It's a bank… Hey, if you are to be Queen once more, I'd better fill you in on the past 3000 years. Maybe we could sit down?"
They advanced further into the tomb, and eventually, since tombs aren't meant for social occasions, perched on the sarcophagus.
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Now while Neferpipi and Bill are, ahem, otherwise engaged, let me answer for you a few simple questions:
Question number the first: How does 'Pip' know English since she's been entombed for 3,000 years??
She doesn't. But Bill is a scholarly sort of chap (Head Boy and all) so speaks Ancient Egyptian rather well. Since Word doesn't have a hieroglyphic (or even a loweroglyphic) setting; and we presume (correct us if we're wrong) the average reader of this fanfic isn't intimately familiar with many pictoral writing systems, we decided to translate. We aren't taking many liberties, but we'll have habeus corpus if you're offering.
Enough procrastinating and get on with the story you cry. Fair enough, but be warned, I get cranky if I have to write too much plot into a chapter.
In the tradition of all great translators, we are of course paraphrasing. Starting every sentence with "a thousand salutations" gets a bit repetitive after a while, and our attention span isn't the… Oooh sparkles.
for "Cool" read "Much like the feeling when Ra triumphed over the evil god Seth, leaving him a hippopotamus in revenge for the betrayal of his father Osiris." See what we mean?
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Where was I? Ah yes.
'Pip' was enchanted by Bill's honesty, his integrity… and, well, if we're perfectly frank, his dashing good looks and fluency in a language that had been dead longer than doors have had nails didn't harm his chances. So taken was she that she hired him as a vocal coach, translator and PR with an option to becoming Prince Consort should both parties be willing in the future.
"…And Charlie's somewhere in Romania, doing something unspecified to or possibly with dragons. I wonder what he's up to right now?"
That, dear reader, sounds like an invitation to find out about my favourite Weasley if ever I heard one…
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"I wish Bill was here"
Charleton Heston Weasley was good at many things. If we were to make a list, Quidditch would be on there, and, since he had 6 siblings and therefore a captive audience, talking was another. He excelled in dragons, something, he had once confided to Bill, he thought might have been due to living with Molly Weasley. Bill had advised him never to say that out loud again for fear of incurring Molly's Wrath.
Bill was good at giving advice. He was clued up and keyed in, and possibly also switched on, when the mood was right. William Shatner Weasley was a one man encyclopaedia of common sense, etiquette and good taste, which was something none of his brothers had inherited.
This went a way towards explaining why Charlie needed Bill. Sooner rather than later. He couldn't choose, was hopeless at decisions; and didn't even know if he should be buying anything, let alone this for his AWOL half-brother's pregnant ex-wife.
Penny had been a breath of fresh air into Charlie's dingy rural Romanian life, and he wanted to let her know that as far as he was concerned, she and the sprog could stay pretty much forever if they wanted to. He was having a great time, but Penny was insistent that they were holding him back from a carefree life of wild parties.
Charlie had been staring at the display in Diagon Alley for hours (the shopping in Romania wasn't all that great). The shop keeper was obviously quite used to this, and kept bringing him cups of tea and the occasional ginger snap.
Ah, sod it thought Charlie eenie-meanie-miney-mo…
"I'll take this one please"
"Certainly, sir, and would you like a presentation box?"
"Sounds good."
"I'm sure you'll find sir, that any lady would be very happy with this gift. There are precious few women out there who'd refuse a good duck sir"
The shop keeper winked.
"Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrright" said Charlie, and, after paying, showed that he, at least, was his father's son, by run, running away.
Later that day
"Oh, Charlie, that's so cute – and well thought out. I'm impressed! You're the best ex-half-brother a girl could have, and I've got a lot to choose from!"
Charlie flushed happily. He shouldn't have worried. When buying for a pregnant Ravenclaw, a classical education, soft toys and an older brother who insisted in talking only in Ancient Greek during the Christmas holidays will never let you down.
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References:
POTC
Chocolat
Imani was one of the British entries to the Eurovision Song Contest. She came third and the song was surprisingly areet. No idea when, possibly the one after Katrina and the Waves won.
Star Trek TOS, well, every series
Monty Python – although I doubt Pip would appreciate being compared to a Norwegian Blue… Or any kind of bird… Or being called Pip really.
for those of you without a classical education, an education at all, or people who have simply never read any literature dealing with the meaning of life, sorry, names, Penelope means duck.