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

5 June 2023

It’s been a long time since I wrote this. I’ve been struggling with Majesty a lot, actually; not really satisfied with the opening scenes I have (with a couple exceptions), and I’m not really sure where I’m going with it, either. In particular, I don’t think this is how Moira gets introduced, or how the Pirate King handles this situation. Might have to let it stew in my brain a while longer…

…eyeing various crew members.

Then a fairly tall woman from the pirate ship strode over. “Alright, Jasper, that’s enough of that.” She had dark brown, nearly black hair cut roughly to jaw length, and wore a vest over a sleeveless shirt. Her pants went down to mid-calf.

The King chuckled, then eyed the woman. “You hae something to say?”

An easy smile fell on the woman’s face, and she leaned back against the ship railing. “This is a pretty nice ship. Don’t you think?”

“Eh. The big ol’ hole in the side dampers that a bit.”

“True. A bit of a shame, that.” She pushed off and began pacing around. “Do you have any plans for it?”

Charles and Elliott could only watch the exchange slack-jawed. Who was this woman, and how could she banter so easily with the Pirate King of all people?

For his part, the King just scratched at his cheek. “Dunno yet. Doesn’t seem to be much worth keeping.” Then he paused, and looked right at Elliott. A feral grin broke out across his face. “Well, well. What have we here?”

Elliott pinched Charles, who’d been about to answer. Instead, Elliott said, “Alan, sir. ‘Prentice carpenter. And this is my friend, Charles.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “That so? Say, Alan. Don’t suppose you’ve heard the little rumor that your prince is still alive, have you?”

Elliott started… [9 May 2023]

…think of that?”

“You know, boy,” the woman added, before Elliott could answer. She wasn’t looking at them. “If you’re going to try to hide your identity, you ought to at least make it believable. Your accent’s all wrong for a lowborn apprentice, and even from here I can see your hands are too soft for carpentry work.”

Elliott’s face paled, and he looked up at the Pirate King. The King reached out to grab him, but Charles couldn’t just watch any longer… [9 May 2023]

…decided to remain very still.

“If you’re finished deciding what you want,” the woman cut in, “how would you feel about handing the ship over to me? Complete with crew and passengers.”

Everyone around inhaled sharply. Once again, who was this woman, that she could talk to the Pirate King as an equal? And what would she do once she got them?

The King just raised an eyebrow. “Hardly seems worth the effort. I was thinking I’d just scuttle it and be done with it.”

Cries of alarm came from many of the crew, including Jakob, but neither of them paid attention to any of that. The woman smiled. “Then it won’t matter if I take them, will it? Consider this repayment on that debt.”

The King scowled, but thought for a moment. “And after this, we’re clear?”

“One hundred percent.”

He glanced at Elliott. “I’m still taking the kid.”

The woman shrugged. “What use do I have for a prince?”

That elicited another round of protests, which got no more of a reaction than the last. The King grinned and extended a hand. “Shake on it.”

They did, and the King immediately ordered some of his crew to begin repairing the ship. He grabbed Elliott by the collar and dragged him off. The wyvern sitting on Charles waited until they were aboard the Fortune’s Blessing before it hopped off and scurried after its master.

9 May 2023

Honestly, a great deal of this section of Majesty just didn’t land quite right with me. That’s not why I took such a long break—we can blame Tears of the Kingdom and other video games for that—but I don’t think it helped that I knew something was off, and I didn’t know what to do about it. In particular, it’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with this section, or with the alternate version of it I wrote in June and July. It just…wasn’t right for the story or the characters. I think I’ve pinned down a solution, but I’ve been writing other things this past week, so I haven’t actualized any of that.

…Jakob’s story. In the meantime, he prowled around the deck, eying the various crew members. When he noticed Charles and Elliott, he paused. “What’s your name, boy?”

Was the King talking to him? Charles opened his mouth to speak, but Elliott spoke up first. “Alan, sir. Carpenter’s apprentice. And this is my friend, Charles.”

The Pirate King raised an eyebrow, and looked the two boys up and down. “That’s interesting. Say, Alan, had you heard that your prince is still alive?”

Elliott started. He shook his head, trying to do his best to recover. The King nodded to himself. “Yeah. The Conqueror announced she’d killed off Averny’s king and queen, but that the princeling had scurried off like a cowardly rat. What do you think of that?”

Charles’ eyes went wide and he spun to look at Elliott. For his part, though, Elliott kept his face impassive as he shrugged. “That’s… good, I suppose? Assuming he wasn’t on the Siren’s Lament.”

The wyvern on the King’s shoulders chirped, and the King snatched Elliott’s arm, bringing his hand up to inspect, making Elliott gasp. “You know, Alan, for a carpenter’s apprentice, your hands are awfully soft, wouldn’t you say?”

Elliott struggled to free his hand from the Pirate King’s grasp, but to no avail. The King pulled him forward until his nose was almost touching Elliott’s. “Last chance, princeling. Who are you really?”

Charles couldn’t just watch any longer. He bit his lower lip, then tried to tackle the King. The pirate dodged, but he was distracted enough that Elliot was finally able to pull free. The wyvern jumped off the King’s shoulders and bowled into Charles’ stomach. It glared up at Charles, snapping at the boy’s nose, and Charles decided to remain very still.

Elliot pulled himself up as tall as he could. “You are right; forgive me for lying. I am Prince Elliott.”

There was a great deal of muttering from the crew, but the Pirate King ignored all that. His men came back from below decks, and one whispered in his ear. He nodded, and stepped toward Elliott with a feral grin. “Tell you what, princeling. Now that we’re being honest, how about a deal? You come with us, and I spare all those refugees downstairs. By Fortune’s breath, I’ll even repair the ship, keep ‘em from starving to death. What do you say?”

Elliott bit his lower lip. “And what do you intend with me?”

Jasper shrugged and paced behind Elliott. “Dunno. Might sell you; could get a lot for a fallen prince. Might try to strike a deal with the Conqueror, see what you’re worth to her.” Then he leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Or I might get bored and just decide to kill you one day. Just for the fun of it.” He pulled back and watched the boy. “So what will it be?”

Elliott glared up at him. “You swear that the people on this ship will not be harmed?”

“I swear it.”

He debated only a moment longer. “Make sure they have enough food to get them to the nearest port, and we have a deal.”

Charles cried out, but both Elliott and the King ignored him. “Do you really think you’re in a position to negotiate?” the King asked.

Elliott said nothing. Finally, the King flashed a grin. “Well, you’ve got more guts than some of the royals I met. Alright. Deal.” Then he grabbed Elliott by the scruff of his coat and dragged him off. “Get this ship repaired pronto!”

Charles watched, tears in his eyes, as Elliott was dragged aboard the Fortune’s Blessing. Even after the wyvern flapped back to the King’s shoulder, all he could do was lie there and weep.

5 May 2023

Well, I have more of a backlog built up than expected, considering how much time I wasted this summer, so for a while, at least, I’ll be double-posting again. It’s also been long enough that many of my thoughts on what I’ve written have gone fuzzy, especially for today’s posts, which I actually typed in months ago and just never posted on here.

I do know that I feel the crew’s reactions are way too muted for their circumstances; they should be pissed off, and even if they can’t really act on that anger directly, it should still express itself in some way. Wouldn’t surprise me if Jasper even revels in such things.

While Jakob surveyed the damage, Charles and Elliott headed above deck to see what was going on. The whole crew were dispirited; some were shaking with fear, while others just shook their head and looked at the Siren’s Lament with pity.

Their sister ship had already pulled a league or two ahead of them, and the pirate ship had drawn close enough Charles could make out the faces of individual pirates.

And just like Jakob had said, none of them gave the Dragon’s Flight more than a passing glance. All of their focus was on the Siren’s Lament. Charles noticed a man with sandy blonde hair, perhaps in his mid-20s, standing at the helm. He wore a bright scarlet coat with the sleeves rolled back to the elbows, and a green wyvern draped itself around his shoulders.

The man in the scarlet coat gave an order, and their cannons thundered. One of the masts on the Siren’s Lament cracked and fell, and it stopped dead in the water. They raised a white flag, but the pirates didn’t care. The man barked the order again, and another volley of cannon fire tore into the hapless ship.

The passengers and crew of the Siren’s Lament panicked. Some tried to prepare longboats, while others jumped straight into the ocean, trying to put as much distance as the could between them and the doomed ship. All the while, the pirates unloaded volley after volley, and did not stop until the ship had finished sinking.

Charles couldn’t pull his eyes away. His entire body shook, and nothing he did could make it stop. Next to him, Elliott bent over the railing and threw up. When he finally stopped, his face was pale and sweaty. He and Charles shared a look, and quietly collapsed onto the deck.

Soon, the pirate ship pulled back alongside them and prepared to board. Charles finally saw its name; the Fortune’s Blessing. He looked again at the remains of the Siren’s Lament and shuddered.

Jakob came back above deck right as the pirates began to board. The man in the scarlet coat was one of the first to arrive, and Charles noted he had an earring in one ear, a fang of some kind. He looked around, then demanded, “Who among you is captain?”

Jakob stepped forward, arms folded across his chest. “Aye, that’d be me. What can I do for you?”

For several long, intense moments, the man stared at Jakob. There was a sharp glint in his eyes, and Charles was sure Jakob was about to die. Then he smiled, which was quite unnerving, and offered a handshake. “Jasper. King of the Pirates.”

Jakob hesitated only a split second before he took the pirate’s hand in his. “Jakob.”

The Pirate King shook once and let go. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be helping myself to the contents of your hold. That alright?”

With a snort, Jakob answered, “Couldn’t stop you if I tried. Not with my ship in this state. Still, don’t tink you’ll find much. Got caught up in that mess back in Averny; with all the refugees, didn’t have much space for cargo.”

The King’s eyebrows rose, and his smile widened. He nodded at a couple of his crew, who headed belowdecks, probably to verify Jakob’s story.

31 December 2022 part 2

And with this, we are finally caught up; exactly one week behind my actual writing. That felt good.

More shenanigans with Charles and Elliott. I think I made Elliott too arrogant for this section; I don’t have a solid enough grasp on his character and how it shifts over the trilogy. His side of the story is, unfortunately, something of a tragedy, in contrast to Charles’ more heroic arc. I’d like to foreshadow that, of course, but I still need Elliott to be relatable, and a respected member of the team before all that goes down, which is hard to nail down.

The ship name—the Dragon’s Flight—is more than just a pun. It’s also not set in stone, so if I come up with something better I’ll use that instead.

Jasper raised an eyebrow and sat back. “Why?”

Charles blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Um, well, he’s my friend. And he’s a prince, even if he doesn’t have a country right now, and, and–”

One of the wyverns hopped down and sniffed at Charles, who squeaked and stepped back. Jasper asked him, “Are you scared, little man?”

This was it. He was dead. Charles gulped and nodded, but rather than give up words started pouring out of his mouth. “I-I know you hate cowards, and you’re probably going to kill me ‘cause I’m so scared, b-but at least promise you’ll set Elliott free! He hasn’t even had a chance to try to take [our country] back yet, and he’s amazing, not like me, so if he had help–”

Jasper gave a signal, and another wyvern shrieked and snapped at Charles, silencing him. With a languid air, Jasper rose to his feet and began to circle around the boy, eying him up and down. Once he was back in front of Charles, he squatted down on his haunches and looked the boy in the eyes. “Let me get this straight. You’re freaking terrified of me, and you’re dead certain I’m gonna kill you. And even then, you came down here on the off chance you might be able to get me to let your friend go. That right?”

Charles nodded. Jasper tilted his head, almost ninety degrees, and narrowed his eyes. “This wasn’t some order from that princeling, was it?”

With a shake of his head, Charles replied, “Elliott told me I was b-being stupid actually. But, if you’re just going to sell him back to [the Conqueror], I had to try something. I think she’d do worse things to him than just kill him.”

Only the sound of the wyverns shuffling about could be heard. Charles began to sweat bullets, but he held very still, and even tried to hold his breath.

Then Jasper started laughing, and Charles about fell over. The pirate king clapped Charles on the back, hard enough it stung, and said, “I like you, kid. You’ve got guts. Alright, I’ll give you lot a chance. We’ll see if this princeling measures up.”

For a moment, Charles couldn’t believe his ears. It worked? He’d done it? By the time it sank in, Jasper had already pushed him above deck. Then all the tension drained out of Charles’ body, and he fainted to the floor of the deck, with a smile on his face.

The next day, Charles and Elliott were reunited. Elliott rubbed his wrists where his manacles had chafed, his displeasure clearly evident on his face. He looked at Charles in wonder. “What the heck did you say to him?”

Charles shrugged. “I don’t really get it, either.”

The ship they were on pulled up alongside another, smaller vessel. Probably another one of the ships in Jasper’s pirate armada. The crew pulled out planks to lay between them, and they herded Charles and Elliott across.

Elliott looked around, and with what little dignity he could muster he demanded, “Where’s the captain?”

“That’d be me.” A tall woman strode toward them wearing a loose, patched-up tunic, and a pair of breeches with one leg torn off at the knee. She had dark brown hair that fell around her shoulders in waves, and piercing green eyes that seemed to peer into the depths of Charles’ soul. He shivered, but he tried to match her gaze as long as he could.

Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but the woman held up a finger. She studied him next, then pointed at Charles. “You’re the one Jasper was telling me about? The one that impressed him?”

Charles shrugged. “I, I think so. I talked to him yesterday, at least.” 

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Well. Looks can be deceiving, then.” She turned to Elliott. “As for you… The princeling, right? You’re just as he described, so far.”

Elliott’s eyebrows scrunched together, and he frowned. “And what does that mean?”

The woman ignored him, and instead looked over them one more time and sighed. “I’ve really got my work cut out for me this time.” Before either of them could respond, she pointed her thumb at herself and said, “I’m Moira. You can call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Ma’am’. From now on, you’re not princes or servants or any of that. You are deckhands aboard the Dragon’s Flight, and that means you answer to me. Is that clear?”

Charles saluted and said, “Yes, Ma’am!”, but Elliott just glowered. “I’m not some lowly deckhand; I am a prince, and–”

“You were a prince, you mean,” Moira cut in. “You have no country, no authority, and no reason for me to respect you. If you want to change that–any of it–you start by doing what I say. Am I clear?”

“But–”

“Am I clear?”

Elliott shut his mouth, and his face turned pink. He bowed his head. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. You actually can learn; that’s a good sign.” She looked up into the rigging and whistled.

28 December 2022

This story is actually an idea I’ve had for a long time now - at least a year, maybe two. It was a fusion of a vague idea I had about dragons being associated with the concept of majesty/majestic, and a dream I had of a pirate king who hated cowards. It kind of converged into this story where kings and heroes become dragons the more “majestic” they are (100% my own subjective opinion right now; I may or may not figure out specific rules later).

It’s planned to be a trilogy, with each book occurring at a different phase of Charles’ life. It’s one of my focus stories for January, actually, and hopefully one of the drafts I plan to finish this year. Also, random trivia fact, for the longest time Jasper was called “Jack” in my head, despite my image of him being nothing like Sparrow/Johnny Depp.

When Charles stepped down below deck, he was shaking in his boots. Everyone had heard how ruthless Jasper the Pirate King could be. And worse, everyone knew how much he hated cowards. Charles wasn’t 100% sure, but he figured he counted, and Jasper would kill him.

But if he didn’t at least try, Elliott would just get sold off, or worse. So down he went, until he stood in front of Jasper’s makeshift throne, with a huge flock of wyverns eying him from everywhere throughout the room.

Jasper himself was quite intimidating. He wasn’t a large man, per se - he was only of average height, and wiry, rather than bulky. But there was a sharpness to his gaze, and he had a subtle tension that made Charles feel like a mouse caught in a serpent’s gaze.

For several long minutes, Jasper said nothing. Finally he confirmed, “You’re that boy that was on the ship we boarded yesterday, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Don’t ‘sir’ me, kid. If you have to call me something, call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Your Majesty’.”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” The words still felt wrong to Charles. After spending his whole life calling the old king that, it felt uncomfortable to use the title for someone else.

Jasper’s face soured, and he leaned forward. “So, what do you want, little man?”

Charles bit his lower lip, then mustered up his courage and said, “I want you to release Prince Elliott!”