A taste of my work for those of you who don't know it

Fri, 04 May 2007 19:24:50 GMT

ORIGINAL FICTION
Title: Adela Rising
Rating: G
Warning: Alternate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe

I sit calmly in front of my house, watching those wandering in front of me. Every one who passes nods politely to me, even the elders of our village. It is their way of showing that I am as worthy as they and contain much wisdom beyond my years. The children play nearby, told to stay by their mothers. One or two of the younger ones stay close to my skirt, a mix of blue fabrics that draws them in, reminding them of water and relief from the heat.

It has been a relatively quiet morning so far, with the birds singing to themselves and the only person to stop by me longer than a minute or two have been the children. Normally I am not asked questions of great importance unless there is a great disturbance, so this is not unusual. But I know that there will not be any disturbances until the winter when a great famine caused by bad weather will destroy half of our population. For now, though, I am happy to dwell only on the major thought that dwells in the minds of teenagers and young adults - marriage and courting.

Ah, finally, a young person who wishes for my service. “Pardon, Miss, but I was wondering if you could help me,” she says, looking at her worn shoes. From the look of her coarse hair and loose clothing, I can tell that she is one of the poorer in the area. That and I read her mind. It’s easier to read minds than guess based on appearance. I rise, tell one of the older children to take care of the younger, and go inside with her. The front room of my house is where we go, and I gesture towards a chair for her to sit in. I take one across from her, and wait for her to speak.

When it becomes clear that she will not, I begin. “Gwendolyn, it’s all right. What do you need for me to tell you? Whether or not a man wishes to marry you? Maybe you’re wondering if your family’s crops will be good this autumn. Of, and this is my favorite yet, if Pryderi really meant his compliment?” It is obvious from the look on the poor girl’s face that she is ashamed for coming in the first place. Of course, this was never my intention. I simply need to have my fun now and then, and when someone is stationary for a long enough period of time, I can read their mind quite easily.

Finally, Gwendolyn speaks up again. Quietly, she asks, “I was wondering if I should accept Pryderi’s proposal.” Obviously I knew that, but I can not always abuse my powers. Unfortunately, she does not see my satisfied smile, and rushes on. “I would like to, but I’m afraid that I will lose him if battle breaks out soon with the French. My principle thoughts are for the success of a family, and if my father lets us marry, I’d like to. Except,” she pauses, biting her lip. “Except,” she tries again, but bursts into tears.

I sigh heavily, before patting her hand reassuringly. “Whose life is it, anyway, Gwendolyn?” And a whispered, “mine,” I continue, feeling reassured. “The effects of a marriage will affect on you and he. Who’s living in it, after all?” A smile is all I need to tell me that I’ve won her over. I do not want to know what her “except” was, as long as it is not he is my Principal from school who time traveled to find me. Now that would be a real reason not to marry him!

As it is, I gaze into the future and see a happy life with six children. I finish with, “And, to top it all off, they’re all blond.” Gwendolyn laughs, and I see that she is considerably cheered. Many people from the village find the combination of my speech and dialect, a gift from my home in the future, as well my odd name too much. Many of the younger children are usually giggling before I can give an order. But it has cheered my current audience, and that is all that matters in this moment.

We walk out of my house, and see the men working in the fields. “Let’s go over there,” she says. “I wish to tell Pryderi that I accept.” I decline, and watch Gwendolyn run over to tell her now-betrothed that she will marry him. As they talk, it is clear to all that they are complements of one another.

Turning away, I go back indoors to take out some stationery I have kept from the future and write a letter to a friend living in a nearby town. Alas, upon reaching the trunk in my bedroom that keeps all of my mementos from the future, I can not open it. Someone has locked it and stolen its key! But, as it uses technology from my home, that means someone from the future is here, in my village.

A noise in the front room startles me, and I am prepared to meet the thief. Almost instantly, a figure appears in the doorframe. “You’re going by Adela Íde, now? Such an odd name,” says the young woman who stands there. Her black hair is in a long braid down her back, and steely eyes glare at me. As sinister as her appearance is, I know this girl. “Back home we all knew you as Mary. But that was too plain for you, wasn’t it?”

I groan at my inability to read her mind, and instead ask, “What do you want, Anne?”

A strange gleam comes into her eyes, as she says, “Oh, no, my name is not Anne any more. It is Benoite Love Antonia.” Now it is my turn to be incredulous. She has chosen such an odd name, when she could have had any name she wanted. “I am the local fortune-teller, Adela. What do you do?” Purposely lacing my name with disgust, she lets her guard down for a moment and I can read her mind. But in that moment, I have discovered that she does not tell the future, but is married with five children, and has come purely to torture me. She is a duchess, and court being adjourned, has nothing to do but come and bother me. It is like seven years ago, when we were in safe and sound in our future high school.

“Lady Benoite, I can not help you. Please give me back my key, and then leave. Or, being a real teller of fortunes, witch, fairy, whatever you call me, I will make your ride back very unpleasant.” Benoite scowls, hands over the key, and stalks out of the room.

But she pauses in before leaving my house, calling back, “Adela Íde or Mary, no matter who you are, I will make sure you never have contact with your other friends again!” And with that, I lost contact with all people from the future. Well, with everyone except for Her Grace, the Duchess Antonia, of course.

Introduction

Mon, 30 Apr 2007 00:02:23 GMT

You have reached Kate's writing journal, a place where I'll archive my fanfics and write new fics, HP related and not. I'll try to update fairly quickly, although it won't be as quickly as my personal journal, which you can see here, at prepyournalgene. This is going to be the only non-writing post I'll put here, and within a couple of weeks I hope to have all of my fics posted here. Reviews here and at MNFF are both lovely and appreciated. All will be responded to.

This will be a "Friends Only" journal, so comment this post to be added. Thanks for stopping by, and I might post a one shot publicly so you can get a taste of whether or not you want to be added.

Kate

Girl put your records on

A taste of my work for those of you who don't know it

Introduction