Gifts of the Giftless
I realised today I have a rather pressing problem. Simply put, I am desperately boring. I am not Gifted, neither do I display any talent in the physical arena should the mad urge ever come upon me to want to become a knight. My archery skills are decidedly below par-I cannot shoot, not even should my life depend on it- which it never would as I am never in any situation more dangerous than the mild risk of being pricked by my embroidery needle, which I need not add, I am also hopeless at.
I have not been the subject of a daring kidnapping scheme to spirit me away to be used as the crucial bargaining chip against my parents. Neither have I been snatched out of the jaws of death by a manly, yet sensitive champion on a white steed. Various lecherous courtiers have not trapped my innocent person in some dark corridor of the palace to make lurid advances. And I certainly haven't discovered the cure to cancer.
I've not even had a torrid affair with the stable boy.
No, the highlight of my day is usually trying to guess what's on the menu for dinner. I suppose it's only fitting that I'd be slightly on the plump side. You'd think having Thayet the Peerless for a mother would guarantee stunning looks that princes from far and wide would flock to see. Apparently such gifts are limited to the eldest sister only. Unfortunately for me I'm only moderately attractive, and I think one of my feet is decidedly bigger than the other.
You see, it turns out that Princess Leanne of Conte is decidedly average. I'd like to think that maybe I might wake up one morning to realise that the previous night I was visited in a dream by the Goddess who informed me that because of my unique but here-to-fore unknown magical/clairvoyant/empathic power only I can go on a quest to save the world/find a potent magical artefact/find her left slipper. The only catch being the fact that I will have to travel with my arch-nemesis who just happens to be the most attractive man ever to have been born and the fact he has made my life a misery up to this point will have no bearing on his actual behaviour on our quest. Really all our hatred has only been pent-up sexual frustration and he will inevitably declare his undying love for me before the quest is over.
But really I have more chance of waking up to find that my three-year-old niece has put a frog in my bed.
I have decided that the only thing that lends me distinction is my rank. I am a princess. Having come to this conclusion I decide to pay a visit to the library and find out exactly what my rights and responsibilities are as a princess of Tortall.
It isn't hard to leave the few ladies in waiting who were sat with me in my morning room up until now. They're all having fits of ecstasy over the most recent addition to the knights of the realm. Apparently Clarissa caught a glimpse of him bathing in all his manly glory. I swear the woman was almost drooling as she recounted his "flawless physique". A man who spends every day for roughly six years practising a vast variety of forms of physical combat is well muscled. Fancy that.
I've half a mind to blame my boringness on my ladies, but that wouldn't be fair. They reached their present heights of superficiality and foolishness all by themselves. It occurs to me that perhaps I am cynical.
Oh no, I think with mild alarm, Baron Middlewight is coming up the corridor towards me. Conversation with that man is the very meaning of tedium, that's right, he's more boring than me. Schooling my expression into one of polite indifference I incline my head graciously. If there's one thing I am good at it's courtly manners.
He smiles broadly, his rotund belly seems to swell at the prospect of a brief (and I use this in the loosest sense of the word) word with me. I'd say my day was going swimmingly. "Your highness, isn't it a wonderful day? It puts me very much in mind of one summer twenty-five years ago- or was it twenty-four-"
My smile freezes on my face.
"…no, no, it was the same year as we had the bumper corn harvest- of course we didn't know that at the time as the corn was still out in the fields, although it was generally thought that the yield would be larger than the previous year when we had that problem with the locusts-"
Oh dear Mithros, kill me now.
I smile and nod politely, trying to think of a way I could get one of the young mages to cast a permanent silencing spell on the man.
It's twenty minutes at the very least before I am able to get away. I have the vague feeling that I shouldn't be so hard on the old man as he is rather fond of me, mainly because I am always saddled with sitting next to him at formal functions. Thank you, father.
Anyway, I'm at the library now, although as I look around trying to assess where to begin I realise that I could be here for a very long time.
Well! I am not in a good mood. It is now almost dark, someone came round to light the lamps half an hour ago, and I have spent the entire day in the library in the hopes of discovering what my one and only redeeming feature entitles me to. And after many long frustrating hours trawling through volume after volume I have discovered that as princess of Tortall my powers amount to absolutely nothing. Nothing, zip! I am apparently a bargaining chip to be used in marriage negotiations to finalise treaties with foreign powers. You can imagine how happy this makes me.
I realise that I am sitting here glowering at an inkpot but right now I do not care. My destiny in life is a glorified walking national present. How infinitely glorious! What a life of excitement and fulfilment I have to look forward to! I shall just have to practise my curtsey.
Perhaps sarcasm is my gift.
"Err, Leanne?"
I look up. It's Roald, my eldest brother. "What?" I growl. I'm oddly pleased by his resulting expression of illease.
"Is…everything alright?" He looks slightly nervous as if I might suddenly breathe fire. I decide I'd quite like to do that.
"Oh, yes, Roald, everything is just splendid," I imagine I must look slightly crazed. Perhaps that would be an interesting idea to pursue. Madness could be an interesting personality trait.
"That's…good," Roald hazards, he doesn't seem to know what to do now. I decide not to be helpful and stand with my arms crossed, an angry scowl on my face. "It's just that you don't look…what I mean to say is that…" My scowl deepens. "…err, never mind, I promised Uncle Gary I'd bring him this book." He snatches the nearest volume from the table and hurries out of the door.
I smile beatifically in satisfaction. Perhaps I do have some powers after all.
A/N: Heh, just a bit of fun, couldn't resist a bit of a dig at some Mary-sueisms and the forever reoccurring plotlines, what did you think? My sister says that this is very British humour. shrugs
Not really meant as the beginning of a story although if I had the time I might take it further, it does have potential. Leanne's fun, reminds me a bit of Lizzie from 'Pride and Prejudice'. Well, review and let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading