As part of an art/writing trade, I asked Verdence to give me a funny story. I got a hilarious fic about Memdi writing a fic. I put the story under the cut :33
Once upon a time there was a lovely princess who had been locked in a tower. Every night she stood by her one window, braiding her long, luxurious mane, and sang. Before she went to bed she would sigh to the stars, “Oh, when will my love come and rescue me?”
“Have you ever seen a charr with a ‘long, luxurious mane’?”
“I might have! Now shush.”
And one night he came! Her knee-high knight had arrived, and he called up, “My love, throw down the lovely braid of your long mane and I’ll
“Seriously, charr can’t grow their manes that long.”
“You are interrupting my work!” Memdi scribbled out the last few lines anyway, and left a little space before setting her pen to paper again.
Her knee-high knight had arrived, and he called up, “My love, throw down the lovely braid of your long mane and I’ll in a powersuit had arrived, and he opened the cockpit and stood at the edge to call up, “My love, I have come to save you!”
“Oh Keteus, my heart!” She waved at him delicately with her silk kerchief. (and Memdi tried to ignore Seuba’s snort behind her, but the pen may have slipped just a little) “There is a dreadful, fire-breathing wizard in the (the snort rolled into full blown laughter, and Memdi clutched her pen tightly for a moment, before resuming her writing at a furious pace) tower, and you must defeat her first!”
Seuba calmed just long enough to ask, “Why can’t they go out through the window?”
“It’s too small for a charr!” Memdi just kept writing anyway.
“I will defeat this wizard with all haste, and then whisk you away!” Keteus got back into his powersuit and charged the door, breaking it open in a shower of splinters!
Inside stood the terrible, fire-breathing wizard, who raised her muzzle and breathed a great gout of fire! “You will never have her, Keteus! I swear it on my very name, Cyncus!”
“Hey, she can be a little rough, but that’s just mean.”
“Fine!” Memdi marked out all reference to Cyncus and began again.
“Oh Keteus, my heart!” She waved at him delicately with her silk kerchief.
He closed the cockpit of his powersuit and flew up to her with his jet boots. She daintily stepped out of the tower’s window and into his waiting arms (Seuba started laughing again) andtheyflewoffintothenight!
“What. Is it. Now?”
Wiping at her eyes, Seuba choked out, “I thought the window was too small for a charr.”
“It isn’t any more!”
“And how’s he going to carry her even in a power suit?”
That… had sort of been the whole point of the story, and it got Memdi thinking. She crossed out the entire page, realized it was an entire page and just crumpled it up, then started a new one.
Once there was a brilliant queen, the most brilliant queen in all the kingdoms! Every morning when she woke she went to her mad sciencey alchemical far-seeing mirror (Seuba chortled, and Memdi nearly snapped her pen in half) and asked, “Mirror, who is the most brilliant of them all?” And her mirror would respond, “You, my mistress.” So she went about her day confident that no one who challenged her brilliance could possibly be correct. Every evening before before she went to bed she asked her mirror, “Mirror, who is the most brilliant of them all?” And her mirror responded, “You, my mistress.” So she slept well at night.
Until one morning she asked her mirror, “Mirror, who is the most brilliant of them all?” And her mirror showed her the image of another asura! She tapped on the frame of her mirror and said, “Mirror, are you feeling alright?” And her mirror replied, “Yes, mistress.”
The queen glared at the mirror for a moment, then said, “Same inquiry.”
When it showed her the image of the other asura again the mirror said, “There is another who is as brilliant as you—no, even more brilliant!”
She stalked away from the mirror and went about her day, thinking that it must be malfunctioning. Brilliant people didn’t just spring up out of the ground with no warning, after all. That evening she asked again, “Mirror, who is the most brilliant of them all?” When the mirror again showed her the same image she tore it from the wall and shook it. “Tell me who he is!”
“Battery disconnect—shutdown imminent—good night mistress—”
The queen lay awake in bed all night, unable to shake the image of the other asura from her mind. When dawn came she went to her advisers and said, “As I am the most brilliant in all the lands, I should like to generously host a fair for all the most brilliant of lesser minds. There will be a contest, and a prize, for whoever impresses me; I shall take them as my apprentice.” And because she was queen they made it so.
In a month’s time she had all the most brilliant minds from every land lined up before her, each with an experiment. She saw the asura her (newly fixed) mirror had shown her every night, and indeed his was the most brilliant, more brilliant even than her vast mind could have designed. “My boy,” she said, “your intellect is indeed worthy of praise. What is your name?”
“Keteus, your honor.” Even in an honorific and a bow there was too much pride in him, and she tried not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.
“Keteus, you will be my apprentice. As we value brains over blood that means you will one day inherit my kingdom. What do you say?”
He cracked his knuckles and asked, “When do we get started?”
That evening as everyone else in the castle lay sleeping the queen went to her huntmaster and said, “Huntmaster Yulic, I have a task for you. Take this young man into the woods and dispose of him. Bring me back his enormous brain as proof that you have done so, and so that I may devour it, thereby gaining the power of my enemy.”
“Slow down.” Seuba had been quiet so long that Memdi actually turned to look at her this time. “Eat his brain?”
“Well….” Memdi wasn’t sure how to put it just right, to someone who wasn’t a necromancer, that you had to do that kind of thing to make a story really scary. With a shrug she said, “She’s really evil and gross?”
“Okay, just… that escalated quickly. Maybe tone it down?”
Memdi shrugged, and decided that was the second thing Seuba had said that was useful.
Bring me back his enormous brain as proof that you have done so, and so that I may devour it, thereby gaining the power of my enemy.”
Huntmaster Yulic just nodded, because she never said much anyway, and grabbed the asura out of his bed and carted him off into the woods under her arm. Though he was brilliant he had no tools or tricks that could save him from being pinned by the huntmaster. So he talked at her.
First he tried to bargain with her, promising her all manner of wondrous things, some of which he could do and some of which he couldn’t. Then he berated her, because he was a prince now and that made her his subject! Next came reasoning with her, and when that failed he fell silent, and started looking for some hint in her to tell him what to do.
For a long time he stared at her mismatched eyes, at the curve of her broken horn, at the lines of her muzzle. They kept going until it was nearly dawn, so he did a lot of staring.
When they stopped she set him down, and he knew from his struggles that she was too strong to escape. “Before you kill me,” he said, “I have one request.” She just grunted, and he took that as leave to continue. “A kiss? I find you strangely pretty.”
Huntmaster Yulic just stared at him for a while, and then patted him on the shoulder. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“You’re not? But why else would the queen make me her apprentice and then send her huntmaster out into the woods with me? I have this all figured out.”
“She asked me to,” Yulic answered. “But I never liked the old hag anyway.”
“Oh.” Keteus hadn’t considered that variable, so he stood there for a moment, stunned. When he finally gathered his wits about him he looked back up at her and said, “Well, how about that kiss anyway?”
“There!” Memdi blew on the paper to dry the ink faster, then held it up proudly. “All done!”