Jedi Council Forums - The Cost of Honor (AT LONG LAST, Chapter 2.6, February 22)

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Author	Topic: The Cost of Honor (AT LONG LAST, Chapter 2.6, February 22)
Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/5/03 10:30pm Subject: The Cost of Honor (AT LONG LAST, Chapter 2.6, February 22) - Date Edited: 2/23/05 12:01am (38 edits total) Edited By: Ty-gon Jinn
	PROLOGUE ONE: ONE BREATH The rain was, perhaps a bad omen, but as torrential downpours were not uncommon on the planet, it was not paid much mind. The gloom that seemed to permeate the walls of the world was passed off only as a trick of the weather; the clouds seemed merely shadows over their watery land and even the lightning was generally ignored. The wind lashed through the plains, sweeping the rain across the land, but to the residents of the planet, it was nothing new, and nothing special. Mirana Naparte ran the comb through her hair as the grey sky lit up outside her window. Her face was dusted with makeup, looking as flawless as an Alderaanian porcelain doll. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling the last strand into place in the curly locks tied into shape behind her head. She checked her jewelry, the earrings tasteful, the necklace perhaps a bit overstated, and the ring minimalist. She looked the part she was to play. As she stood up from her lighted mirror, the black shimmersilk gleamed. The dress itself was a long robe, almost, though the jewelry seemed that it should go with a grander gown, ballroom attire at the least. The shape of the dress, though, gave some hint of the elegant shape suggested by Mirana’s accessories. The skirt was rather large, probably with a large shape fixed at the bottom. Over the dress, Mirana donned a black cape, with a hood. Pulling the hood over her head, she stepped outside, into the pouring rain. The sounds of the waterfalls beyond the city would have been drowned out by the driving rain, had the rain not made the falls louder than ever. As she walked determinedly through the street, she approached the large building at its end, passing through a large stone arch. She would soon be meeting with her family. Her mother would not be there. Her mother had died thirteen years ago. As a diplomat on a goodwill mission to one of the system’s more unsettled sister planets, her mother had been killed when wild beasts attacked their reception. Her father had remarried, and Mirana’s stepmother would be the one meeting her. Her children would be there as well. Mirana’s brother was, perhaps, the most distasteful being she had ever met. She simply disliked him, though she never risked saying it. Now twelve years old, seven younger than his half-sister, he could legally inherit his father’s possessions. That is why Mirana was summoned. The question of inheritance had to be ironed out. The rain was, perhaps, a bad omen for the loyalists of the country, but they paid it no mind. For Mirana, it was not foreboding, but simply fitting, as she fully expected one result to come of the day. In all likelihood, this would be the day her father died. -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/6/03 8:50pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Started 5 October)
	Mirana climbed the stairs, to a spot where she found a tall, slender woman stood waiting, her arms crossed in front of her. “Zolotiya,” she greeted, stretching out her hands. “Mirana, I am afraid the hour is growing close.” Mirana continued down the hall, with Zolotiya now walking beside her. “How has he been?” “As well as can be expected,” Zolotiya replied. “The illness has progressed again, but, for now, he is still breathing.” Mirana nodded in response as she walked down the vaulted hallway. Zolotiya stopped abruptly, placing her hand on Mirana’s shoulder. “We have to talk, Mirana. I know you’re concerned about the inheritance.” “Why should I be concerned? Because Tarrat is only twelve years old? Because this means my mother’s legacy will be ignored?” “Mirana, you know that it is the tradition of your father’s clan for inheritance to pass to firstborn son.” Zolotiya took a deep breath. “I meant no disrespect to your mother. I hope you know that.” Mirana simply wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, Zolotiya.” She hugged the older woman, leaning her head on her stepmother’s shoulder. “I know that you’re worried that Tarrat cannot handle the inheritance. You will be appointed to oversee it.” “I do not believe that I could do that,” Mirana replied, stepping back. The two came to a large double door on the right side of the hallway. Zolotiya turned around to face Mirana. “Then we shall see how things are divided. Tarrat will hold up your father’s legacy, you know that.” “We shall see how things are divided,” Mirana echoed. One of the door opened, and an aide slid out. “You may come in now,” he said, beckoning to the two ladies. Zolotiya went in first, her long, dark-hued gown dragging on the floor underneath her black yarn-lattice cape. Mirana followed, entering a large stateroom lit by candles and a window facing the reflections of light dancing at the foot of a waterfall. Zolotiya crossed the floor to take a seat next to the bed that sat with the headboard against the middle of the far wall. Mirana came and stood behind her, looking at the man lying in the bed, obviously in a cold sweat. Zolotiya reached out and grasped the man’s hand. “Ardnej, are you with us?” Ardnej Naparte looked up with a glassy look in his eyes. “Zolotiya, did she come?” Mirana reached out, placing her own hand on top of Ardnej’s. “Hi, daddy.” “Mirana,” he said, his voice faltering. “Thank you, Mirana. O, you came, Jinnayah, my Nubian fire.” Mirana smiled, tears welling up in her eyes again. -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Sache8 Registered: Mar '00	Date Posted: 10/7/03 11:55am Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 6 October)
	This looks to be just the sort of story I'll enjoy most. Not only because I'm in love with Naboo, anyway, but because the story thus far is very intriguing. There seems to be good care given to the history of the setting, even though we, the readers, don't know everything yet. It also reminds me of the first scene in Sense and Sensibility, with the father dying, and the fate of the estate a point of consternation. Thanks so much for pointing me this way, Ty-gon! ~ Saché -----signature----- Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard There's so much more than empty conversations filled with empty words You're on fire when He's near you; You're on fire when He speaks. You're on fire burning at these mysteries. ~ Switchfoot
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Rokangus Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 10/7/03 2:28pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 6 October)
	Whoa...a new story! Yeah, I got to agree with Sache...a VERY interesting premise, as I can't tell for sure exactly where this is going...but that gives a great sense of suspense that makes me wonder where is the story going to go from here? Great start for this; I'm very interested to see what this new story is going to be about! -----signature----- Spiders and Butterflies: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=11471877 Nifty Song of the Week: "Battlefield" by Blind Guardian "You are a freaking ninja, dude!" - Grand_Admiral_Jaxx
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Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/7/03 9:00pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 6 October)
	A new reader and a loyalist… such fun. Sache8: I’m glad you think you’ll enjoy this. And I’m really flattered that you compared my stuff to Austen’s… even if I’m a guy, I really admire Austen’s work. You’re welcome for the point! Rokangus: Whoa… a nice familiar face! This should clear up the premise pretty significantly. Oh, and, by the way, The Past Rediscovered is still being updated (or, rather, is being updated again), and should be finished fairly soon. __________ Mirana sat in the drawing room, a large foyer next to the bedroom. The nerf-leather sofa provided the perfect viewpoint; she could see the double doors on the wall down the hall every time they moved. She sat there, watching, waiting for someone to come out with news, to ask her to come back in, to stumble out crying, something. “Are you going to be all right?” came a voice from her left, toward the windows. Looking over, she saw her half-sister, Shiska. Shiska was, to Mirana, much more likable than her twin brother. While Tarrat was immature and annoying, Shiska was a pleasant conversationalist, and wise beyond her years. “I suppose I am,” she replied. “Here, Mirya, take a look outside.” Taking Mirana’s hand, she led her to the large row of windows facing the street outside. Mirana looked, and, after time, realized what the gathering outside was. There were at least a dozen people huddled together, with two standing across from them dressed in black, all with their heads down. She was touched, placing her hand over her throat as if she could feel her heart caught in it. “They’re holding a prayer vigil for Daddy?” “People love him, Mirya.” “You know that it’s probably useless.” “That doesn’t change anything,” Shiska said, walking back over to the sofa and sitting down. Mirana turned around, in time to see Tarrat walk into the room. If physical appearance could be taken as a clue to one’s emotional state, Shiska and Tarrat were a perfect example of contrast. Where Shiska, always the cool, sensitive one, had grown over the last year and now looked like a young lady of fourteen or even sixteen at times, Tarrat was still short and baby-faced, able to pass for nine or ten. “What are you doing here, Jinny?” the little flaxen-haired boy slumped into the armchair facing Shiska. Mirana hated it when Tarrat called her “Jinny.” Jinnayah was her father’s name for her. He called her his “Fire” in an archaic western Naboo dialect, and it was something she held special. The slaughter of the name seemed especially inappropriate with their father in his condition. “I’m here to see our father,” she replied coldly. “Mirya isn’t in the best mood, Tarrat. Could you leave her alone?” Shiska said, using a more traditional shortened form of Mirana’s name instead. “Is Jinny jealous that I get the inheritance?” “Tarrat!” Shiska said, standing straight up. “Don’t say things like that! You’d think he wasn’t your father at all!” “Don’t you say that to me!” Tarrat screamed, stomping his foot as he looked up at his sister. “I love him, and that’s why she has to be a regent and I get the title.” “I’m going to tell Mother what you just said, Tarrat, and you’ll be glad she can handle things for you because you won’t be allowed out of your room!” “Well, neither will you, stupid, if you tattle on me!” Mirana clapped her hands over her ears, staring back out the window. Shiska saw her half-sister trying to ignore them. “Just go away, Tarrat, or I’ll go get Mom right now.” “Fine,” Tarrat snapped. “I want to go to my room anyway.” He turned on his heel and stormed out down the hallway. Shiska walked back over to Mirana, looking out on the prayer vigil beneath. “The people loved Daddy, Mirya. You know, he was challenged twice, and never lost an election.” “I can’t believe they came out in this weather, though.” “Of course they would. Daddy’s the king.” -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Sache8 Registered: Mar '00	Date Posted: 10/8/03 5:12am Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October)
	Ouch. King, eh? Well, that certainly steps it up a notch. And wow... the brother really is a brat. Which is strange, he seems to have such an agreeable family, otherwise. I wonder why he's the way he is? ponders Great post! Keep it comin' -----signature----- Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard There's so much more than empty conversations filled with empty words You're on fire when He's near you; You're on fire when He speaks. You're on fire burning at these mysteries. ~ Switchfoot
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Rokangus Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 10/8/03 5:43pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October)
	Eh, there's seems to be one to every bunch. No matter how good the parents and the rest of the family might be, brats seem to appear like Force-potential...often there's no direct genetic link. ^_~ Hmmmm..I think I see where you may be going with this now...a King is dying and an inheritance and title is being passed on. Very interesting premise here...can't wait to see where you go with it! -----signature----- Spiders and Butterflies: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=11471877 Nifty Song of the Week: "Battlefield" by Blind Guardian "You are a freaking ninja, dude!" - Grand_Admiral_Jaxx
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Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/9/03 12:42pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October)
	Sache8: Brats are brats. Sometimes it happens. Rok: Yeah, it's probably not too hard to figure out the exact premise... especially after this post. __________ “I won’t be Tarrat’s regent,” Mirana announced, sighing as she sat back down on the sofa. “I won’t.” “You’ll have to, Mirya. You don’t want someone else to do it, do you? Or do you want him to just take over right now?” “I can’t be a part of it. If he becomes king, I’m going to move to Evramora or something.” Shiska sighed as well, sitting down next to her big sister. “Are you going to challenge him, then? Put up a candidate against him and demand an election?” “Like whom? The people all assume that Daddy’s heir can do no wrong.” “They haven’t seen him at home, have they?” Mirana nearly smiled. ***** Zolotiya sat next to the bed, staring at Ardnej, King Kostera of Naboo. She could still see his chest rising and falling slowly, and, though he seemed unconscious, she could tell he was still alive. She reached across him and placed her hands back on top of his, but then she removed it. Ardnej stirred again, suddenly. “Ardnej? Are you awake?” “Zolya, I…” he was struggling to breathe. “Are you all right?” she nearly panicked, jumping up. “Nurse!” “No,” he coughed, “no, I need to say… my heir…” “Do you want me to bring Tarrat to you?” “No, no, not… now.” There was a glossy look in the king’s eyes; he seemed to stare straight up into the bed canopy without even noticing Zolotiya’s movements. His breathing was as labored as ever. “Are the girls… are they here?” “I think I heard Shiska outside.” “And Jinnayah?” “She hasn’t left, Ardnej. You wanted her here.” His arm moved, but wasn’t able to cover his mouth before he was seized with a fit of coughing. Zolotiya covered his mouth with a handkerchief. “Naboo…” he began, then grimaced. He tried again. “Jinnayah loves this planet.” “We all do, Ardnej. We love it because you love it.” “The planet… the kingship…” his eyes drifted shut, and his breathing slowed. “Leave it all…” he struggled to take one breath, then finished, “to… my… daughter.” END OF PROLOGUE #1 _________ Tonight: Prologue #2 - The Red and the Black begins! -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Sache8 Registered: Mar '00	Date Posted: 10/9/03 6:45pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October)
	Yesss!!! That king knows what he's doing. The question is, how will super-brat handle it? Please forgive the not-very-eloquent feedback. I'm not feeling inspired tonight... -----signature----- Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard There's so much more than empty conversations filled with empty words You're on fire when He's near you; You're on fire when He speaks. You're on fire burning at these mysteries. ~ Switchfoot
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 10/11/03 2:20pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October)
	Nice opener, Ty-gon This is gonna cause some trouble now, with Tarrat losing out on his inheritence because he's such an EEEEEEEEDIOT! Can't wait to see how he takes the news...got Kleenex? -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land...REPOST http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/29243158/p1/?0 Outcast - Podcast Novel http://outcastnovel.mevio.com
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Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/11/03 11:08pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue One: One Breath (Updated 7 October) - Date Edited: 10/11/03 11:09pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Ty-gon Jinn
	Sache8: I know the feeling of not-being-inspired… how quickly “Tonight” (see my plug at the end of my last post) becomes “Saturday”!! I’m glad you think this is turning out the right way, though. We’ll just have to see what Super-brat does… Whiskey in the Jar-Jar: Hey! It’s nice to have a new reader I’m already pretty familiar with. Welcome to the readership. And I can tell you right now how Tarrat handles the news… __________ PROLOGUE TWO: THE RED AND THE BLACK Part One: Mirana “Tarrat, you can’t stay in there forever!” “I’m not going to come out until you tell me you’re lying!” Mirana sighed. She stood outside Tarrat’s door, leaning on the wall. Two days had passed since their father’s death, and she, having come to meet with the late king’s senior advisor, had hoped to smooth a few things over with her half-brother. She found, however, only a door, slamming in her face. After the king’s death, Zolotiya had come out, her face tearstained, only to announce the sad, albeit expected, news, to his children. She called in Tarrat, who had been in his room, and told the three together; they all began to cry. Before Zolotiya could continue, she too began crying again, and forgot the rest of the news for a time. That evening, at dinner, however, they had all seemed to sober up; the dinner, Ardnej’s favorite, was one of bittersweet emotion, but excellent taste. They ate in silence, until Tarrat, desperate to get over the awkward quiet, had interjected, “So, Mom, when I am crowned, what name do you think I should take?” Shiska had slammed her fork down and stared at her brother, appalled, while Mirana had merely rolled her eyes. Tarrat continued. “I think Dad would have liked it if I was Kostera II, don’t you think?” Zolotiya’s response had surprised even the servants; she had, rather quietly, admitted, “You’d better ask Mirana. Your father left her the kingdom.” As Mirana and Shiska stared at each other in shock, Tarrat slammed his own fork down, and, without a word, marched off to his room. He had been there ever since. “Tarrat, you know that I expected Daddy to leave it to you, just like you did.” “Liar!” came the voice from the other side of the door. “You wanted this, just because you think I’m a little annoyance, and I’m not good enough for the planet! You put the idea in Dad’s head because you got to see him that day!” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said to herself. Knocking again, she asked, “can I just come in? We can talk?” “I’m going to challenge you! The people will elect me as king anyway!” “Tarrat, I didn’t put the idea in his head, and I couldn’t change it if I wanted to, but just because I’m not going to refuse what Daddy wanted, that means my own brother won’t be at my coronation?” Tarrat yelled again, not answering her question, but instead calling her a name- specifically, a sharp expletive. “Oh, no,” Mirana nearly yelled back, “You did not just say that to me.” “And what if I did?” the little-boy-voice retorted. “Do the words ‘Exiled to Gungan land’ mean anything to you?” “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?” came a voice behind her. She whirled around to find a grey-haired man, her father’s senior advisor, standing there. “Did you hear what he called me, Genya?” Genya Koltarrie shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I did. But, if you’d be so kind as to come with me…” he extended his hand and turned to walk down the hall. “This isn’t over!” Mirana shouted at Tarrat’s door. Extending her hand to take Koltarrie’s, she followed him down the hall. “Now, what is it you wished to see me about?” Before Genya could answer, the sound of the heavy creaking door resounded through the hallway, and Tarrat’s unobstructed voice called out, “It is too over!” and the door slammed shut again. -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 10/12/03 7:35am Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue Two: The Red and the Black (11 October)
	Uh oh, sounds like we got the brewings of a civil war up in this piece. :o It sounds to me that even under a challenge, Tarrat's not going to make it to be king. I forsee hard times ahead... -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land...REPOST http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/29243158/p1/?0 Outcast - Podcast Novel http://outcastnovel.mevio.com
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Sache8 Registered: Mar '00	Date Posted: 10/12/03 12:22pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue Two: The Red and the Black (11 October)
	"There's one in every family, sire. Two in mine, actually. And they always manage to ruin special occasions." "What am I going to do with him?" "He'd make a very handsome throw rug." "Zazu!" "And just think- whenever he gets dirty, you can take him out and beat him!" Hehehehe... sorry, but Tarrat just reminds me of that whole conversation. BTW, what's the inspiration for "The Red and the Black?" It reminds me of the Les Mis song. ~ Saché -----signature----- Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard There's so much more than empty conversations filled with empty words You're on fire when He's near you; You're on fire when He speaks. You're on fire burning at these mysteries. ~ Switchfoot
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Ty-gon Jinn Registered: Jan '00	Date Posted: 10/12/03 9:38pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue Two: The Red and the Black (11 October) - Date Edited: 10/12/03 9:39pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Ty-gon Jinn
	Whiskey: You may very well be right… though I doubt Tarrat would garner enough support to build an army. I will go ahead and tell you that Tarrat will be a thorn in Mirana’s side throughout her entire reign, but I won’t really spoil the beans. As to hard times… well, we can’t assume that hardships for Naboo started with Amidala, or even with Casper’s Angelleia, can we? Sache: You’re not suggesting that Tarrat should throw Mirana into a stampeding herd of wildebeest, are you? Actually, that’s a great comparison. Thanks for making me laugh. As for “The Red and the Black…” even though I’ve read the novel cover to cover – just for fun – I still haven’t seen Les Mis the musical (shame on me). The title of my piece, which refers to one of the variations of the one-color-faded-to-another simple-robe outfits worn by the handmaidens in TPM, was actually inspired by something completely different. Hmmm, if I lay out the names of all five planned prologues, maybe someone will be able to guess what inspired them. Prologue One: One Breath Prologue Two: The Red and the Black Prologue Three: Beyond the Sea Prologue Four: Travelers Prologue Five: Ascension __________ “Do you think Tarrat seriously means to challenge me to an election?” Mirana asked Koltarrie as the continued walking. By now, they had crossed to the main level, and the halls were wider, lined with polished stone, and decorated with ornate displays and art. A long row of enormous windows loomed to one side. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, but Mirana had no time to stay behind and watch; Koltarrie still marched her forward. “I’m sure he means to,” the older man said, “but nothing will ever come of it. Not only would he lose, but I am fairly sure no one would support his candidacy. None of the other clans have any objections to your taking your father’s crown. The Nada clan in particular seemed relieved; they were never… overtly fond of your younger brother.” “Who can blame them?” Mirana asked, under her breath. “So what is it that I’m supposed to be coming with you to see?” “We believe that your father had been planning to give the crown to you all along. There were special provisions made in his will just for you. He said he wanted you to live like a princess, even if you ever had to shoulder the responsibilities of queen.” “Which means what, exactly?” “He requested that we recruit a certain number of people to attend to you – to help you with daily activities, to perform tasks that you might not be expected to do, to serve as advisors, and, above all, to keep you safe.” Stopping at the end of the hall, Mirana turned to face Koltarrie. “My father wanted me to have lackeys?” “No, not lackeys, not at all. Handmaids, I suppose.” “Let’s at least do them the honor of using maiden, shall we?” “Of course,” Genya said, as the doors at the end of the hall slid apart. On the other side was a large room, with another long hallway leading off to the left, the roof high above supported by columns. Directly across the room was another door, and between the two doors were a large desk and an assembly of empty chairs before it. The marble room shone with the new sunlight streaming in the windows that dominated the wall on the right, and before the window stood nine figures. The nearest of the figures broke away, walking straight toward the new arrivals to the room. Shiska bounded up toward her sister. “Mirya, isn’t this fun? Meeting your coronation attendants?” Koltarrie smiled at Shiska. “Your sister has been a great help in selecting the best candidates for these positions. She put a lot of thought into it. We believe we have done your father proud with the selection.” “Here, Mirya, take a look,” Shiska said, showing Mirana a list of names and characteristics written on a datapad. “They’re all my height,” Mirana said in surprise. She looked at the eight figures before them. “And they all have my same build.” “Yes, we took that into account. If anything is needed for you, they will all know it as they know what they need themselves,” Koltarrie responded. Mirana looked at their names again. “And their names all end with na.” “So does yours, Mirya,” Shiska reminded. “Yes,” Genya added, “that was a rather… happy coincidence. Their names all match their monarch’s. Perhaps if these little cadres catch on, this could become tradition.” “You really can’t tell anything from a datapad,” Mirana decided. “Come on, Genya, introduce me to them.” “Of course. Right this way.” -----signature----- I'm alive! And I'm back!! Who'd have thought it, eh? Assassination: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=14787030 The Cost of Honor: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=13443744
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Delight Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 10/14/03 8:08am Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue Two: The Red and the Black (Updated 12 October)
	Wow! Glad I found this story! Intriguing start, what with the unexpected queen and the bratty brother... like everyone said: civil war! Good stuff. -----signature----- Hate (ESB AU Vader one-shot) - http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/30035853/ Enough (AU Obidala one-shot) - http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/30009444/
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Sache8 Registered: Mar '00	Date Posted: 10/14/03 2:17pm Subject: RE: The Cost of Honor - Prologue Two: The Red and the Black (Updated 12 October) - Date Edited: 10/14/03 2:18pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Sache8
	Red and Black is a song that Enjoras and Marius sing with all the young guys at the ABC Cafe, just before General LeMarc dies. It is time for us all to decide who we are. Do we fight for the right to a night at the opera now? Have you asked of yourselves, what's the price you might pay? Is it simply a game for rich young boys to play? The color of the world is changing day by day... Red! The blood of angry men. Black! The dark of ages past. Red! A world about to dawn. Black! The night that ends at last! (Then Marius goes into a tra-la-la verse about Cosette, very mushy ) ENJORAS: Marius, you're no longer a child. I do not doubt you mean it well, but now there is a higher call! Who cares about your lonely soul? (That part always makes me chuckle ) We strive towards a larger goal! Our little lives don't count at all! (REPEAT Chorus) I'm sorry, I have a horrible tendency to spout into song at any given moment, at the slightest provocation... Now, as to the story As a lover of all things Handmaiden, I will say that I particularly loved this post, for reasons that are hopefull most obvious I especially love the idea of the names being chosen to match the Queen's as well. As to the inspiration for your prologue titles... I haven't the faintest! -----signature----- Everything inside you knows there's more than what you've heard There's so much more than empty conversations filled with empty words You're on fire when He's near you; You're on fire when He speaks. You're on fire burning at these mysteries. ~ Switchfoot
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