17 April 2024

I was quite proud of this one. The mother and love stanzas need work still, I think, but overall I like how it turned out. Especially since every character listed, except (maybe) Elliott, is or becomes a dragon by the end of the series. For context, stanzas 1 and 2 are book 1; 3, 4, and 5 are book 2; and the last is book 3, which has a lot more focus on Arylwen and less on Charles, so that makes sense.

I actually started this by trying to see how few words I could use to “tell” the Majesty story. I wasn’t happy with that, and wound up here instead.

There stands a boy

Trembling in fear at the feet of the Pirate’s throne

Yet does not yield

And the Pirate hails him, King

There stands a boy

Looking into the face of an old, tired Mountain

And offers hope

And the Mountain hails him, King

There kneels a youth

His surrogate Mother fading fast

He, helpless, weeps

And the Mother hails him, King

There kneels a youth

A ring offered to the Love of his life

Promise ensured

And his Love hails him, King

There stands a man

Confronting she who has conquered the world

At last, triumph

And the Conqueror hails him, King

There stands a man

Betrayed by one who was once his dearest Friend

Together in death

Only then does the Friend hail him, King

20 April 2023

Well… there’s definitely issues here. The general vibe almost makes it feel like I’m pro-dictatorship and anti-democracy, which is not how I feel. So I’ll need to come up with another way to bring up Ferghus, and another way for Roland to start thinking how ill-prepared they are to defend themselves from the Conqueror and other, similar threats.

“And who would helm this coalition, then?” Roland demanded. “You? One of the other monarchs? Perhaps that princeling you dragged in out of the ocean? No, we will not leave ourselves vulnerable to some arrogant bastard declaring themselves our king or queen.”

“And what if you picked one of your own?” Moira leaned back against the table, arms folded. “Appointed them as your leader, even if only temporarily?”

Roland kept pacing. “And once we gave them that power, do you think they’d give it up? No! No, they would not.”

With a sigh, Moira pinched the bridge of her nose. “So you refuse the slightest risk of a monarch of any sort taking power.”

“We’ve managed without so far.”

“And what will your people do then, when a real dragon appears? When some foreign king or queen arrives in a storm of scale and claw and fang? When the Black Conqueror herself lands on your shores? Who will defend you? The living statue of a dragon holed up under the city?”

Living statue? What did Moira mean by that? Charles pulled away from the door and shot a questioning look at Arylwen. She shrugged; apparently she didn’t know what her mom meant, either. Charles grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s go find Bethany.”

Arylwen scrunched her nose. “Why her?”

“She’s from this city; he dad’s even on the Council, right? I bet she knows.”

Despite her scowl, Arylwen nodded. 

They found Bethany moping quietly in the grand library. [AN: I guess they rejected her earlier or something?] Arylwen sulked off to the side while Charles walked up to her. “Um. Hey, Bethany.”

Bethany jumped a bit, then hurriedly tried to wipe the tears from her face. “U-um, h-hi, Charles! What brings you here?”

Charles hemmed and hawed for a bit, and then finally asked, “Do you know anything about a living dragon statue under the city?”

Bethany blinked a few times. “Do you mean [Ferghus]?”

Both Charles and Arylwen cocked their heads.

“You know, Ferghus? The old king who set up the Council two hundred years ago? He’s not actually a statue, but he’s really, really old, and dowsn’t really move much any more.”

Arylwen’s eyes lit up. “How big is he?”

“Huge! I saw him once; he must have been as big as the whole palace!”

When he saw the smile that spread across Arylwen’s face, Charles’ stomach dropped. He’d seen that smile often enough to know it was never good news.

Sure enough, a moment later, Arylwen announced, “Let’s go see him! You can take us there, right?”

18 April 2023

This would take place in book 3 of the Majesty trilogy, assuming I get that far, after Charles and Arylwen are already married, and rulers in their own right. Shenanigans happen, and Arylwen needs to get help from the dragons. It occurred to me, before I wrote this, that my “realm of dragons” could be the Underworld/afterlife, and that opened a ton of possibilities I wanted to play with. Also, I like the idea of this section just for Arylwen showing up and being all different kinds of badass. Don’t really see that here, but I’ll get around to showing it off someday.

Also, so many names are in brackets because I haven’t settled on them yet. They’re liable to change; the country of Baldren, in particular, is highly likely to be named something else in the near future.

The stuffy silver dragon looked down his nose at Arylwen. “And will anyone vouch for Miss Arylwen to speak before the High Council?”

There was a rumble, and a massive dragon covered in stone shifted. “I will.”

It took a second, but Arylwen recognized old [Ferghus] from her time in [Baldren]; it was good to see the old coot again.

Then, from the back of the room, a female voice called out, “I, too, vouch for her.”

Arylwen’s blood froze, and she turned to see an all-too-familiar figure in deep black armor. [Agthere] still bore the wound in her chest where Charles had killed her a decade and a half earlier. If anything, she seemed to wear it with pride.

Arylwen’s first response was to lay into the conqueror with her claws, but even if [Agthere] weren’t one of the only people sticking up for her, Arylwen got the distinct impression most of the Council would frown at such a blatantly violent display. With some deep breaths, she barely managed to keep herself contained.

She couldn’t help feeling unnerved, though; she and Charles were among [Agthere’s] most ardent foes in the past, and had ultimately been the ones to kill her. So why was [Agthere] helping them now?

5 April 2023

I wrote this kind of late, and honestly I’m still not sure what to think of it. I was trying to lay the groundwork for Arylwen and Bethany to develop a friendship while they’re still kids, but I don’t think this approach is going to be the best. Moira will still intervene, but it will be more chastising Arylwen. I also don’t know that I fully agree with the logic here, and it definitely feels out of character for Moira, even if I’m having trouble pinning down why. Additionally, I don’t want to even imply that bullying is in anyway justified. It’s not. So yeah, this is getting scrapped. It does help me figure out some of what’s going on in Arylwen’s head, though. And I might just have to tone this sub-arc down, so she’s not actively mean or malicious to Bethany.

The little girl curled up tighter, wrinkling her dress. “I just… I want to be friends, too. Why is she so mean to me?”

Moira leaned forward, resting her arms on the balcony railing. She pondered the question for several moments. “You may not believe me, but you and Arylwen have a lot in common.”

Judging by the expression on Bethany’s face, she didn’t believe her. Moira had to chuckle at that. She said, “I’m guessing you didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, right? Spent most of your days around adults, all trying to teach you how to be a ‘proper’ lady?”

Bethany nodded. Moira continued, “It’s not so different for Arylwen. There’s not that many kids on pirate ships, and the small handful Arylwen did meet were all terrified of her, especially after hearing she’s a dragon.”

5 February 2023

I really enjoy writing these character interviews. I might have to write a book solely using them to tease out the story. Maybe later.

One thing I’m most worried about is how many of the posts recently paint Arylwen in a very negative light. That’s not too bad; she’s certainly flawed, and that’s part of her character arc. But she needs to have redeeming qualities, as well. I need it to be easy for the audience to forgive her for her faults, at least after she’s outgrown them. And in the current incarnation of the story, it seems like Bethany gets the worst of those faults. I will have to tinker with that a bit.

Getting to know Bethany was very fun, though. The girl needs hugs. She’s better than she thinks she is. Which, as I understand it, is almost as common a failing as assuming you are more amazing than you actually are.

I choose to meet Bethany in a garden. There’s a tea table set up in the middle, complete with an array of cakes and things. I give it a critical look. Am I being too easily influenced by common stereotypes? How might I avoid making bethany feel like a cookie-cutter “helpless princess” character? I snap my fingers, and the platter is reduced to a single slice of cake a piece.

Bethany comes out a moment later, in a very fine green dress. I stand and tip my head. As she approaches, I step around the table and pull out her chair, and wait for her to sit down before I return to my own seat.

She studies me a moment. “Are you being gentle with me, monsieur?”

“Perhaps. More than I would with some characters. Don’t read too much into it, though; I simply have not gotten the full measure of your character yet, that’s all.”

Her expression sours, and she opens her mouth to ask a question, perhaps about Arylwen and how I’d handle her. But in the end, she says nothing; it seems Bethany doesn’t have the full measure of my character, either.

I pull out a notebook and flip open to a clean page, pen at the ready. “You are closely acquainted with several notable individuals. Prince Elliott, the young dragon Arylwen… Even Charles is gaining quite the reputation as a hero.” As soon as I mention Charles, a blush creeps onto Bethany’s cheeks, but she stoically pretends not to notice. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to meet and develop a relationship with them?”

She takes a moment to reflect, and a soft smile slowly eases onto her features. “It would have been nearly ten years ago. Miss Moira came to my father about something–I would later learn it was this very resistance–and she brought them with her. Not that either my father nor I realized who Miss Moira was at the time.”

I decide not to mention that I still don’t know who Moira is. Or was, rather, before her “ascension” to dragonhood. …I need to figure out what terms people in-universe use for that phenomenon.

I prompt her to continue, and she says, “Elliott was quiet. Brooding. It made him seem handsome, in an unapproachable sort of way, but he scared me, too. Arylwen…” Bethany’s face fell, and she drew into herself. “She took one look at me, my dress and my shoes, and stalked off with a snort.”

It takes a moment for her to compose herself. No tears fall, and I’m not sure the glint I catch at the corner of her eye is even real, but it’s clear there are scars there. Then she takes a deep breath, and looks me in the eye.

“But Charles… Charles was different. He greeted me warmly that first day, and even after that, he would always notice me and drag me over to join them on their adventures. Oftentimes, Arylwen would get mad at him or say something mean to me, and they’d fight, and Elliott would have to step in and break them u.” She chuckled. “One time, Arylwen called me a pig. I think at the time, she felt that way about anyone who was rich, but it hurt, and I started crying. Charles got so mad he kicked her right in the shins. It didn’t matter that she was a dragon, or that he liked her.”

Then her smile faded, and she looked down into her lap. “I guess not much about Charles has really changed, has it? He’s still a hero, still kind to everyone, and I… I’m just a silly girl with a silly crush.”

I frown and look up from my notebook. “It is not silly.”

Bethany looks up at me, eyes wide. I sigh. “Even if it doesn’t pan out. Even if you know he and Arylwen get together, and then you watch it happen. Those feelings helped you get here, today, no matter how timid you think you are.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand. “Tell me, Bethany. Would a coward have been willing to slap a dragon across the face?”

Bethany has no response to that. I continue, “And do you think there is any dragon–especially Arylwen–that would just let that go? And yet here you are.”

“But that’s different. She and I are… Well, we, we know each other, and–”

“Do you know what makes Charles a hero? WHat it is that makes him brave?”

Bethany pauses, unsure what to say. I’m sure numerous ideas come up about why he’s a hero to her, but she just shakes her head.

“For me, at least, it is because even when he’s terrified, even when he thinks he’ll fail, he does it anyway. That’s how I found him, you know. As a little boy, scared stiff, certain he was going to be killed as he stood before the Pirate King. And yet, he went anyway, for Elliott’s sake.” A half smile falls to my lips. “Now, does that remind you of anyone?”

As I watch her expression, I can tell Bethany wants to protest. But she can’t find the words, as she chews on what I’ve said. I don’t know if she can accept it yet–I’m not sure she ever will–but at least she’s thinking about it.

“I wish,” I say, after some time, “that I could promise you a happily ever after. That Charles will see everything you’ve done, change his mind, and sweep you off your feet. But you and I both know that would be a lie.” I smile apologetically. “In fact, I know a bit too much, and you’ve certainly got your share of pain and heartache ahead. But there is joy, too. And the friendship you’ve developed with Charles and Arylwen is always going to be something you can fall back on.”

The tears do come, this time. Bethany turns away, perhaps embarrassed to be seen like that. I rise and check the time. “Well, I need to leave. Was there anything you needed? Anything else you wanted to say or ask?”

Bethany shook her head. As I pass her I pat her shoulder. “It will be alright. Even if that seems impossible now.” Then I walk away.

It isn’t until much later that I realize neither of us ate any of the cake.

31 January 2023

Between this and my interview with Bethany later, it doesn’t paint Arylwen in the best light. I promise she’s cool, and is a good person! I’m working on finding the scenes that show that the best.

So, for context in the scene below; this is happening in Book 2, roughly a decade (maybe a bit more) after the other Majesty scenes I’ve posted. The main cast is in their late teens or early twenties. They met Bethany sometime during Book 1, and she was a nobleman’s daughter, and very shy to boot. Arylwen wasn’t impressed. I don’t think she did anything actively malicious, but she definitely let Bethany know about her disapproval.

By the time of this scene, things have at least hit a status quo of some kind; I don’t know yet if Arylwen has merely accepted Bethany’s presence, or if she actually considers Bethany a friend. Regardless, it’s still a big deal that Bethany was able to blow up at her like this. Charles and Arylwen have been getting closer together, and Arylwen’s starting to freak out about it, since romance isn’t something easy to understand. She says something rude (I don’t know what yet), and Bethany reacts.

Arylwen was interrupted by a sudden stinging on her cheek. She looked in shock at Bethany–quiet, timid Bethany–and could barely believe the girl had slapped her.

Bethany certainly wasn’t timid now. She glared up at Arylwen, the corners of her eyes glistening. “Charles isn’t like that. You know Charles isn’t like that. And I’ll never forgive you if you ever say something so cruel about him again.”

Arylwen wanted to get mad. To return Bethany’s slap with twice the force, to scream and shout obscenities. But that prick in her heart she’d been ignoring held her back. What good would it do to get mad at Bethany, when Arylwen knew she was right? With some reluctance, Arylwen relaxed the fists at her side.

Bethany nodded once, like that’s what she’d expected. She turned to walk away, but first she said, “If you don’t want him, fine. At least have the courage to reject him properly. I’d be more than happy to finally have a chance with him, and I’m not the only one.” She began to walk off.

A spike of anger flared in Arylwen’s chest. “Are you calling me a coward?”

Bethany spun around and returned Arylwen’s glare with a steely one of her own. “Aren’t you? Charles is willing to lay everything down for you, and all you can do is belittle his efforts behind his back? What, exactly, is brave and noble about that, miss dragon?”

Once again, Arylwen was at an utter loss for words. This time, when Bethany stalked off, Arylwen let her go.

7 January 2023

Continuing from the last Majesty post. Figured out a lot more of the current dynamic between Charles and Elliot with this. Ironically, even though he spends all his time talking about Charles, I learned more about Elliott here; it helped me finally get a pin on his character. Which made some of the earlier bits a little painful to reread, honestly, since he’s a bit over the top with the “noble privilege” in those.

“...anyway? Isn’t he some commoner trash, according to you noble folks?”

“Don’t call him trash.” The princeling glared at Arylwen, then stared back into the sea. “Why do you care?”

Arylwen shrugged and sat on the railing. “Just curious. Everyone seems to see something special in him. Even you.”

For a long time, the princeling didn’t respond. “Charles has this…core to him that no one else has. He’s honest–stupidly so, sometimes–and in a world of nobles scheming for power or asking for favors… well.” He smiled grimly and shook his head.

“So, how’d it start? When’d you meet?”

Elliott chuckled. “Well, he already spent most of the time in the castle, since his mother was one of the royal bodyguards. At first, he mostly played with the other kids in the castle, but one day he randomly noticed that I spent my time alone in the library.”

“Ah. More of that brooding.”

He shot Arylwen a glare, but continued. “Whatever the reason, he decided–on his own, I might add, whatever I thought–that I needed friends. At first, he tried to drag me out to play with the other children, but, well.” He grimaced. “After that, he parked himself next to me in the library. Sometimes he’d try to talk to me, but more often than not I’d ignore him. So he’d grab books and try to read. Honestly, it was exasperating how much he couldn’t understand, but…” For the first time, the princeling actually smiled for real. Arylwen felt a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

4 January 2023

This one is short, because I spent most of my evening planning things out for this story and trying to figure out who Elliott was better. In particular, I want to get a better grasp on the dynamic between Elliott and Charles, and the way that will evolve over the course of the series.

Arylwen found the princeling brooding over the railing at the stern. It figured. What else would blonde princelings do in their free time?

She dropped down next to him. She was a bit disappointed when he didn’t jump; he must be getting used to her by now. She asked, “Where’s the other one?”

“With the captain. I guess he wanted extra sword lessons or something.”

Arylwen shuddered. “He could still move after her normal ones?” When the princeling didn’t respond, she flipped around the rail to get a better look at him. “So what, he’s busy, and you just mope out here?”

Elliott shrugged. “More or less.”

“Why do you hang out with him, anyway?”

2 January 2023

Elliott’s still more hung up on royal pride than I think he should be. His shock at the difference between her demeanor and her implied heritage should still be there, but I think he’d express it differently in a less class-ist way.

Also, Arylwen is one of my favorite characters, at least as far as I’ve gotten to know her so far. She’s got this spunk to her, and absolutely will not take crap from anyone. It’s going to be fun, especially in the later two books.

A moment later, a figure with large, black bat-like wings glided down from the crow’s nest. When she landed, Charles and Elliott were shocked to see a girl their age, and even more when the wings folded into her back and disappeared. “What’s up, Mom?”

Captain Moira gestured to the two boys. “I’ve got a couple new cabin boys to work with you, straight from Jasper. Show them the ropes, would you?” She turned to the boys. “This is my daughter, Arylwen. I’ll be having her take care of you two, alright?”

Elliott still stood with his  mouth open, staring at Arylwen. Charles wasn’t much better, but he managed to pull himself together enough to offer a handshake. “Um, nice to meet you. My name’s Charles.”

Arylwen shook it halfheartedly, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Eh… Really, Mom?”

“Don’t judge the just by their looks; I’ve taught you that already. This one here used to be a prince.” She jabbed a thumb at Elliott, who had yet to regain his composure, then waved a hand at Charles. “And that one went down and talked with Jasper unannounced.”

Arylwen’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at Charles. “And you’re still alive?”

Charles nodded. “He’s, um, he’s really scary, but he think he m-might be kind of nie, too, in a way.” He bit his lip, then asked, “W-were those wings real? Are you really a dragon?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

At that, Elliott finally reacted. “But, that means you’re some sort of royalty! And yet, you’re dressed like [that], without any of the dignity a royal should have!”

Arylwen shrugged. “I don’t care about any of that crap. If you want details, ask my mom.”