Feel free to leave comments, criticism, etcetera. heart
The Coronation of King Gent
The Coronation of King Gent – A Fairytale
Now, dear Intelli-Courtiers, come sit at the fireplace and be quiet, and I will tell you a story you shall never forget.
(…
Tea, I saw that! Don’t steal all the biscuits! Kagome, sit down, please. I’m sure Petri and Blue can find a seat on their own. Now, be silent, everyone.
…
Come on. Please be quiet.
…
*twitches*
…
I SAID SHUT UP!
Thank you.)
Ahem. Has everyone found themselves a spot? Good. Then let’s begin.
Once upon a time, in a Castle far, far away, there lived a wise, benevolent King and his generous, kind-hearted Queen. The King and Queen were blessed with two of the most wonderful children they could have wished for: the tall, dark, handsome, and, most importantly, top hatted Prince Gent and the taller, blue-eyed, beautiful, and, most importantly, brave Princess Hemel.
All was well in King Clever’s blooming, happy Kingdom, until one long, cold Winter Queen Ciel fell ill. The King loved his wife dearly, and when, just before Spring, she finally passed away, he died, too, as his heart and spirit had been broken by his beloved Queen’s death.
For six months, the Kingdom mourned. No farmer would plant the fields, no miller would grind the corn, no baker would bake the bread. Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were not seen in public for all those months, for they did not wish to burden their beloved subjects with their sorrow, and for that reason they did not notice that the once prosperous Kingdom began to fall into decline.
After those six months, reports began to arrive at the Castle. All the people of the Kingdom, they said, were sad, tired, and hungry, and Winter was fast approaching. Perhaps it was time for a new King to ascend the throne? When the Prince and Princess read those reports, they realised they had to take charge, or everything their parents had worked for would be lost forever.
And so it was decided that Prince Gent would become King. The inhabitants of the Castle were all busy making preparations for a huge public coronation feast, the most interesting and fulfilling part of the coronation to most of the citizens, but it was soon noticed that the King’s Crown and Royal Sword had mysteriously disappeared. Prince Gent then recalled his parents’ warning that the heir to the throne had to prove himself worthy of his future kingship before the coronation ceremony could take place. “Go to the top of the highest mountain in this Kingdom, my dearest son,” King Clever had said. “There you will find the palace in which the wisest and most powerful of all beings resides. He will decide if you are worthy of carrying your Crown and Sword.”
Prince Gent resolved to go on this quest and find the items his coronation depended on. Princess Hemel, however, would not let him go alone, for she remembered her parents’ warning that she should always stay with her brother, as they were strongest together. “One day your brother will have to walk a perilous road, brave daughter of mine,” Queen Ciel had said. “If you do not accompany him, all may be lost. Take your bow and many arrows. And, above all, never hesitate to protect each other.”
And so, “Don’t be foolish,” Princess Hemel said to Prince Gent. “How will you keep yourself safe without a sword or a crown? You know the road will be dangerous, and who knows what this mightiest of beings will be like? I’m going with you, brother.”
Prince Gent argued endlessly, of course, but Princess Hemel had made her decision and would not listen, so in the end they left the Castle on a chilly Autumn morning. Prince Gent rode a big black horse with mane and tail as white as snow and was dressed in his best top hat and a warm cloak. Princess Hemel sat astride an elegant white horse with mane and tail as black as midnight and wore a beautiful dress and a fur-lined cape. She also carried her bow, as Queen Ciel had instructed her. All the inhabitants of the Castle gathered in the courtyard to wish them a safe journey, and until they left the last farm behind them the people gathered on the roadside to see their Prince and Princess ride off on their quest.
On their way to the mountain where the wisest and most powerful of all beings resides Prince Gent and Princess Hemel encountered many strange creatures and overcame many obstacles that often required the use of Princess Hemel’s bow (but that, my dear Courtiers, is a tale for another day). Neither of them had any sense of direction, so it took them a very long time to find the mountain. When, after many detours, they finally arrived at the foot of the highest mountain in the Kingdom, Prince Gent halted his weary horse. “My dear sister,” he said, “tomorrow we shall attempt to climb this mountain, but for now let us rest our horses and ourselves.”
Princess Hemel was happy to oblige, and soon they had relieved their horses of their heavy saddles and decorated bridles. Before they could tie them to a tree, however, something or someone in the forest made a strange, loud noise. The horses, well-trained though they were, pulled themselves loose and ran off in the opposite direction. Although Prince Gent chased after them for a while, he soon lost sight of the horses and had to return to Princess Hemel.
“We will have to walk, then,” she said. “I think we shouldn’t worry about them tonight, though. Maybe they will return before we set off tomorrow.”
The horses, however, did not return, so Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were forced to climb the mountain on foot. They were incredibly cold and close to despair when, suddenly, they found a path, free of snow, that seemed to lead upwards. After some consideration they decided to follow the path, which indeed took them straight to a strange palace on the summit. The palace was enormous and had many towers, all of them painted in different colours. The gate was open, so Prince Gent and Princess Hemel walked up to the gigantic wooden doors. Prince Gent knocked thrice, and, seemingly on their own accord, the doors swung open to reveal a hall covered in white marble and a staircase made of black rock.
Princess Hemel felt scared, but steeled herself and tiptoed in. Nothing happened, so Prince Gent, who had been preparing to grab his sister and drag her back out, slowly entered. Just when they felt a bit safer, the doors banged shut behind them. They were now locked inside the palace, and had no choice but to ascend the stairs. When they arrived at the top, they caught a glimpse of an elaborate hall before a deep voice boomed behind them: “That took you long enough, Gent and Hemel. I have been waiting for you.”
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel turned around and saw a huge red Dragon. Scared, they knelt and bowed their heads.
“Oh mighty Dragon, -” Prince Gent began, but the dragon interrupted him.
“Yes, yes, I know, you feel honoured to see me and all that. Don’t bother, I know the drill. Get up and follow me, please, because we do need to talk about something else, something much more important than those silly greetings.”
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel got up and meekly followed the Dragon, who led them to the hall they had glimpsed. While they walked to the other side of the hall, the Dragon talked to them freely of the goings-on in his palace and on the mountain. Once there, however, the Dragon wordlessly gestured to a pair of chairs, and settled himself on the floor.
“Now we are to speak formally, young ones. Am I correct in assuming you, Gent, came here because you wish to be King?”
“Yes, mighty Dragon.” Prince Gent said. “I was once told I would find the wisest and most powerful of all beings on this mountain, and he is to judge if I am worthy to become King.”
“Then you have found him, Gent. It is I who took your father’s Crown and Sword. If I deem you worthy, I will alter them to make them suit you more closely. Now, Hemel, why have you come?”
“I, Oh mighty Dragon, have come only to assist my brother. He is the wisest of us both, and I have no desire to rule,” Princess Hemel said.
“Then all is good and proper. I have watched you from a distance, and I have found that you both would be worthy of the throne. If you, Hemel, don’t desire such a heavy burden, the matter is easily settled. Gent, are you prepared to take charge of your country and lead it as best as you can, even during hard times?”
“Yes, mighty Dragon,” Prince Gent said. “I am willing to do so.”
“Then it is done. But first, heed these warnings: The Sword must never be used for violence. It is for ceremonial purposes only. The Crown you must always wear, for it gives you the strength and wisdom you need. Come forward and claim your Crown and your Sword, King Intelli-Gent.” The Dragon lifted its front paw. Underneath lay a heavy golden Crown and a silver Sword.
“I understand, Oh mighty Dragon,” Prince Gent said. “However, I could never part with my top hat. It, too, has magical powers.”
“Hmm. That is a problem, Gent. You cannot wear both at the same time, yet I cannot let you leave without your Crown.”
“Then I cannot be King,” Prince Gent said sadly, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Princess Hemel, however, suddenly rejoiced, and sprang to her feet. “Cannot I wear this crown, Oh mighty Dragon?” she said. “I will only use its power to aid and assist my King when he needs me to. Cannot the problem be solved this way?”
“That, courageous Princess, is a very wise suggestion. It shall be this way. You shall wear King Gent’s Crown for him. King Gent, pick up your Sword and stand aside.”
King Gent gave his sister a quick hug and did as he was bid. The Dragon carefully breathed on the Crown, which shimmered and seemed to melt. After a while, it reformed into a much smaller circlet.
“Princess Hemel, this shall be your Crown. Wear it proudly.”
Princess Hemel came forward and picked up the Crown. It was now made of silver, and set with uncountable small gems that formed a flower pattern.
“Take them home and do not use or wear either until the coronation ceremony,” the Dragon said. “Then all will be well.”
King Gent bowed and thanked the Dragon.
The Dragon sighed. “Right-o! We’re done now. You know, being the wisest is terribly tedious. Imagine having to speak like that all the time, Kinglet. I’m glad I’m done for today. I’ll take you to your horses now. They’ll be glad to see you.”
The horses were indeed in the Dragon’s luxurious stables, and King Gent and Princess Hemel were given food and drink for the way back.
When they returned at the Castle, Spring had returned, and the people were very glad to see them. The farmers returned to planting, the millers to grinding, and the bakers to baking.
Soon the coronation took place, and at the feast King Gent and Princess Hemel saw many of their friends, most of whom you Courtiers may recognise. There was Leonidas, Princess of a nearby Kingdom, Blue, the Knight who wrote some of the most famous tales recorded in the Castle Library, Kagome, the sweetest, even though she wouldn’t admit it, J4CK, the famous Pumpkin Head, Petri, whose long red hair was the marvel of the age, Hero, the gentle, honest, and possibly adorable Dungeon Master, (want yours added or edited? PM me or post your idea below).
And of course they, King Gent, and Princess Hemel lived happily ever after.
And now the storm is over and we can all go to bed.
Goodnight!
Now, dear Intelli-Courtiers, come sit at the fireplace and be quiet, and I will tell you a story you shall never forget.
(…
Tea, I saw that! Don’t steal all the biscuits! Kagome, sit down, please. I’m sure Petri and Blue can find a seat on their own. Now, be silent, everyone.
…
Come on. Please be quiet.
…
*twitches*
…
I SAID SHUT UP!
Thank you.)
Ahem. Has everyone found themselves a spot? Good. Then let’s begin.
Once upon a time, in a Castle far, far away, there lived a wise, benevolent King and his generous, kind-hearted Queen. The King and Queen were blessed with two of the most wonderful children they could have wished for: the tall, dark, handsome, and, most importantly, top hatted Prince Gent and the taller, blue-eyed, beautiful, and, most importantly, brave Princess Hemel.
All was well in King Clever’s blooming, happy Kingdom, until one long, cold Winter Queen Ciel fell ill. The King loved his wife dearly, and when, just before Spring, she finally passed away, he died, too, as his heart and spirit had been broken by his beloved Queen’s death.
For six months, the Kingdom mourned. No farmer would plant the fields, no miller would grind the corn, no baker would bake the bread. Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were not seen in public for all those months, for they did not wish to burden their beloved subjects with their sorrow, and for that reason they did not notice that the once prosperous Kingdom began to fall into decline.
After those six months, reports began to arrive at the Castle. All the people of the Kingdom, they said, were sad, tired, and hungry, and Winter was fast approaching. Perhaps it was time for a new King to ascend the throne? When the Prince and Princess read those reports, they realised they had to take charge, or everything their parents had worked for would be lost forever.
And so it was decided that Prince Gent would become King. The inhabitants of the Castle were all busy making preparations for a huge public coronation feast, the most interesting and fulfilling part of the coronation to most of the citizens, but it was soon noticed that the King’s Crown and Royal Sword had mysteriously disappeared. Prince Gent then recalled his parents’ warning that the heir to the throne had to prove himself worthy of his future kingship before the coronation ceremony could take place. “Go to the top of the highest mountain in this Kingdom, my dearest son,” King Clever had said. “There you will find the palace in which the wisest and most powerful of all beings resides. He will decide if you are worthy of carrying your Crown and Sword.”
Prince Gent resolved to go on this quest and find the items his coronation depended on. Princess Hemel, however, would not let him go alone, for she remembered her parents’ warning that she should always stay with her brother, as they were strongest together. “One day your brother will have to walk a perilous road, brave daughter of mine,” Queen Ciel had said. “If you do not accompany him, all may be lost. Take your bow and many arrows. And, above all, never hesitate to protect each other.”
And so, “Don’t be foolish,” Princess Hemel said to Prince Gent. “How will you keep yourself safe without a sword or a crown? You know the road will be dangerous, and who knows what this mightiest of beings will be like? I’m going with you, brother.”
Prince Gent argued endlessly, of course, but Princess Hemel had made her decision and would not listen, so in the end they left the Castle on a chilly Autumn morning. Prince Gent rode a big black horse with mane and tail as white as snow and was dressed in his best top hat and a warm cloak. Princess Hemel sat astride an elegant white horse with mane and tail as black as midnight and wore a beautiful dress and a fur-lined cape. She also carried her bow, as Queen Ciel had instructed her. All the inhabitants of the Castle gathered in the courtyard to wish them a safe journey, and until they left the last farm behind them the people gathered on the roadside to see their Prince and Princess ride off on their quest.
On their way to the mountain where the wisest and most powerful of all beings resides Prince Gent and Princess Hemel encountered many strange creatures and overcame many obstacles that often required the use of Princess Hemel’s bow (but that, my dear Courtiers, is a tale for another day). Neither of them had any sense of direction, so it took them a very long time to find the mountain. When, after many detours, they finally arrived at the foot of the highest mountain in the Kingdom, Prince Gent halted his weary horse. “My dear sister,” he said, “tomorrow we shall attempt to climb this mountain, but for now let us rest our horses and ourselves.”
Princess Hemel was happy to oblige, and soon they had relieved their horses of their heavy saddles and decorated bridles. Before they could tie them to a tree, however, something or someone in the forest made a strange, loud noise. The horses, well-trained though they were, pulled themselves loose and ran off in the opposite direction. Although Prince Gent chased after them for a while, he soon lost sight of the horses and had to return to Princess Hemel.
“We will have to walk, then,” she said. “I think we shouldn’t worry about them tonight, though. Maybe they will return before we set off tomorrow.”
The horses, however, did not return, so Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were forced to climb the mountain on foot. They were incredibly cold and close to despair when, suddenly, they found a path, free of snow, that seemed to lead upwards. After some consideration they decided to follow the path, which indeed took them straight to a strange palace on the summit. The palace was enormous and had many towers, all of them painted in different colours. The gate was open, so Prince Gent and Princess Hemel walked up to the gigantic wooden doors. Prince Gent knocked thrice, and, seemingly on their own accord, the doors swung open to reveal a hall covered in white marble and a staircase made of black rock.
Princess Hemel felt scared, but steeled herself and tiptoed in. Nothing happened, so Prince Gent, who had been preparing to grab his sister and drag her back out, slowly entered. Just when they felt a bit safer, the doors banged shut behind them. They were now locked inside the palace, and had no choice but to ascend the stairs. When they arrived at the top, they caught a glimpse of an elaborate hall before a deep voice boomed behind them: “That took you long enough, Gent and Hemel. I have been waiting for you.”
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel turned around and saw a huge red Dragon. Scared, they knelt and bowed their heads.
“Oh mighty Dragon, -” Prince Gent began, but the dragon interrupted him.
“Yes, yes, I know, you feel honoured to see me and all that. Don’t bother, I know the drill. Get up and follow me, please, because we do need to talk about something else, something much more important than those silly greetings.”
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel got up and meekly followed the Dragon, who led them to the hall they had glimpsed. While they walked to the other side of the hall, the Dragon talked to them freely of the goings-on in his palace and on the mountain. Once there, however, the Dragon wordlessly gestured to a pair of chairs, and settled himself on the floor.
“Now we are to speak formally, young ones. Am I correct in assuming you, Gent, came here because you wish to be King?”
“Yes, mighty Dragon.” Prince Gent said. “I was once told I would find the wisest and most powerful of all beings on this mountain, and he is to judge if I am worthy to become King.”
“Then you have found him, Gent. It is I who took your father’s Crown and Sword. If I deem you worthy, I will alter them to make them suit you more closely. Now, Hemel, why have you come?”
“I, Oh mighty Dragon, have come only to assist my brother. He is the wisest of us both, and I have no desire to rule,” Princess Hemel said.
“Then all is good and proper. I have watched you from a distance, and I have found that you both would be worthy of the throne. If you, Hemel, don’t desire such a heavy burden, the matter is easily settled. Gent, are you prepared to take charge of your country and lead it as best as you can, even during hard times?”
“Yes, mighty Dragon,” Prince Gent said. “I am willing to do so.”
“Then it is done. But first, heed these warnings: The Sword must never be used for violence. It is for ceremonial purposes only. The Crown you must always wear, for it gives you the strength and wisdom you need. Come forward and claim your Crown and your Sword, King Intelli-Gent.” The Dragon lifted its front paw. Underneath lay a heavy golden Crown and a silver Sword.
“I understand, Oh mighty Dragon,” Prince Gent said. “However, I could never part with my top hat. It, too, has magical powers.”
“Hmm. That is a problem, Gent. You cannot wear both at the same time, yet I cannot let you leave without your Crown.”
“Then I cannot be King,” Prince Gent said sadly, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Princess Hemel, however, suddenly rejoiced, and sprang to her feet. “Cannot I wear this crown, Oh mighty Dragon?” she said. “I will only use its power to aid and assist my King when he needs me to. Cannot the problem be solved this way?”
“That, courageous Princess, is a very wise suggestion. It shall be this way. You shall wear King Gent’s Crown for him. King Gent, pick up your Sword and stand aside.”
King Gent gave his sister a quick hug and did as he was bid. The Dragon carefully breathed on the Crown, which shimmered and seemed to melt. After a while, it reformed into a much smaller circlet.
“Princess Hemel, this shall be your Crown. Wear it proudly.”
Princess Hemel came forward and picked up the Crown. It was now made of silver, and set with uncountable small gems that formed a flower pattern.
“Take them home and do not use or wear either until the coronation ceremony,” the Dragon said. “Then all will be well.”
King Gent bowed and thanked the Dragon.
The Dragon sighed. “Right-o! We’re done now. You know, being the wisest is terribly tedious. Imagine having to speak like that all the time, Kinglet. I’m glad I’m done for today. I’ll take you to your horses now. They’ll be glad to see you.”
The horses were indeed in the Dragon’s luxurious stables, and King Gent and Princess Hemel were given food and drink for the way back.
When they returned at the Castle, Spring had returned, and the people were very glad to see them. The farmers returned to planting, the millers to grinding, and the bakers to baking.
Soon the coronation took place, and at the feast King Gent and Princess Hemel saw many of their friends, most of whom you Courtiers may recognise. There was Leonidas, Princess of a nearby Kingdom, Blue, the Knight who wrote some of the most famous tales recorded in the Castle Library, Kagome, the sweetest, even though she wouldn’t admit it, J4CK, the famous Pumpkin Head, Petri, whose long red hair was the marvel of the age, Hero, the gentle, honest, and possibly adorable Dungeon Master, (want yours added or edited? PM me or post your idea below).
And of course they, King Gent, and Princess Hemel lived happily ever after.
And now the storm is over and we can all go to bed.
Goodnight!
New! (1 July 2016)
I have since edited tCoKG to suit a general audience and gotten a decent mark for it in a Creative Writing class at uni.
The Coronation of King Gent
Once upon a time, in a Castle far, far away, there lived a wise, benevolent King and his generous, kind-hearted Queen. The King and Queen were blessed with two of the most wonderful children they could have wished for: the tall, dark, handsome, and, most importantly, top hatted Prince Intelli-Gent, and the taller, blue-eyed, beautiful, and, most importantly, brave Princess Hemel. Prince Gent, as he was known by most, knew some magic and had bewitched his favourite top hat. Princess Hemel was the best archer in the Kingdom. They lived in an ancient Castle, which stood in a fertile valley surrounded by tall grey mountains topped with snow. The Summers were long and the Winters were cold enough for a few snowball fights, but too short for anyone to grow weary of them.
All was well in King Clever’s blooming, happy Kingdom, until, one unusually long, cold Winter, Queen Ciel fell ill. The King loved his wife dearly, and when, just before Spring, she finally passed away, King Clever’s heart and spirit were broken. He soon wasted away and died, too.
For six months, the Kingdom mourned. No farmer would plant the fields, no miller would grind the corn, no baker would bake the bread. Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were not seen in public for all that time. They didn’t want to burden their subjects with their grief, but forgot their duties. Fewer and fewer merchants offered their goods in the Castle courtyard, but the Prince and Princess, shut up in the Castle, didn’t notice. The once so prosperous Kingdom began to fall into decline.
After those six months, reports began to arrive at the Castle. The people were sad, tired, and hungry, the messengers said, and Winter was fast approaching. They noted that cold mists had begun to come down from the mountains two months early.
When the Prince and Princess heard these reports, they realised they had to take charge, or everything their parents had worked so hard for would be lost forever.
And so it was decided that Prince Gent would become King. The inhabitants of the Castle were all busy making preparations for a huge public coronation feast, which was of course the most interesting and fulfilling part of the Coronation. The cook and his apprentices raided the storerooms, the gardeners gathered the last of the roses and the maids washed all the table-linen they could find. All over the Kingdom the people ignored their hunger and dug up their best clothes. Many travelled to the Castle to attend the feast.
Not until the day before the coronation was it noticed that the King’s Crown and Sword had mysteriously disappeared. The Castle was searched from top to bottom, but the coronation had to be called off.
Prince Gent then recalled what his parents had once told him and his sister. The heir to the throne had to prove himself worthy of his future kingship before the coronation ceremony could take place.
‘Go to the top of the highest mountain in this Kingdom, my dearest son,’ King Clever had said. ‘There you will find the palace where the wisest and most powerful of all beings lives. He will decide if you are worthy of carrying your Crown and Sword.’
Prince Gent resolved to go on this quest and find the items his coronation depended on. Princess Hemel said she would go with him, for she remembered her parents’ warning that she should always stay with her brother, as they were strongest together.
‘One day your brother will have to walk a perilous road, brave daughter of mine,’ Queen Ciel had said. ‘You know he can be foolish. Do not let him go alone. Be wise when he is not. Take your bow and many arrows. And, above all, never hesitate to protect each other, or all may be lost.’
‘Don’t be rash,’ Princess Hemel said to Prince Gent. ‘How will you keep yourself safe? You don’t know how to fight. The road will be dangerous, and who knows what this mightiest of beings is like? I’m an archer. I can help. I’m going with you, brother.’
Prince Gent argued, but Princess Hemel had made her decision and would not listen. In the end he had to give in.
They left the Castle on a chilly Autumn morning. Prince Gent rode a big black horse with mane and tail as white as snow and was dressed in his best top hat and a warm cloak. Princess Hemel sat astride an elegant white horse with mane and tail as black as midnight and wore an embroidered dress and a fur-lined cape. She also carried her bow, as Queen Ciel had instructed her.
All the inhabitants of the Castle gathered in the courtyard to wish them a safe journey, and the people gathered on the roadsides to see their Prince and Princess ride off on their quest.
Neither of them had any sense of direction, so it took them a very long time to find the mountain. When, after many lengthy detours, they finally arrived at the foot of the highest mountain in the Kingdom, Prince Gent halted his weary horse.
‘My dear sister,’ he said, ‘tomorrow we can attempt to climb this mountain, but for now we should rest our horses and ourselves.’
Princess Hemel was happy to oblige, and soon they had relieved their horses of their heavy saddles and decorated bridles. Before they could tie them to a tree, however, something or someone in the forest made a strange, loud noise. It sounded like nothing they had ever heard before: a magnificent yet unsettling roar. The horses, well-trained though they were, pulled themselves free and bolted. Prince Gent chased them for a while, but he soon lost sight of the horses and had to return empty-handed. Princess Hemel handed him a few pieces of dried fruit and some cheese. He took off his top hat, rummaged around in it, and presented his sister with a biscuit.
‘Here you go. We’ve got no horses, but we won’t run out of food.’
‘We’ll have to walk, then,’ she said. ‘I think we shouldn’t worry about them tonight, though. Maybe they’ll come back before we set off tomorrow.’
The horses did not return.
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel were forced to climb the mountain on foot. In what seemed like no time at all, their feet were blistered and their hands ice-cold and raw from holding on to snow-covered branches and rocks.
Shortly after a dispirited lunch Princess Hemel slipped and fell. The snow stuck to her clothes and melted rapidly, soaking through her dress. Her teeth began to chatter. Prince Gent gave her his cloak, which helped somewhat, but he was now exposed to the freezing wind.
They were both shivering violently and close to despair when, suddenly, they found a path, free of snow, that seemed to lead upwards. After some consideration they decided to follow it, which took them straight to a strange palace on the summit. It was enormous and had many towers, all of them painted in different bright colours.
The gate was open, so Prince Gent and Princess Hemel walked up to the gigantic wooden doors. Prince Gent knocked thrice, and the doors swung open to reveal a hall covered in white marble. It contained a staircase made of black stone.
Princess Hemel felt scared, but steeled herself and tiptoed in, hoping to find a fire inside. Prince Gent tried to grab his sister. He was sure an enemy was hiding inside. She shook him off and walked to the bottom of the staircase.
Nothing happened. Prince Gent slowly stepped across the threshold.
Just when they felt the tiniest bit safer, the doors banged shut behind them. Prince Gent pulled, pushed and kicked them, but they wouldn’t budge. They were locked inside, and had no choice but to climb the stairs. When they arrived at the top, they caught a glimpse of an elaborately decorated hall before a deep voice boomed behind them.
‘That took you long enough, Gent and Hemel. I’ve been waiting for you.’
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel turned around and saw a huge red Dragon. Scared, they knelt and bowed their heads.
‘Oh mighty Dragon, -’ Prince Gent began, but the dragon interrupted him.
‘Yes, yes, I know, you feel honoured to see me and all that. Don’t bother, I know the drill. Get up and follow me, please, because we do need to talk about something else, something much more important than those silly greetings.’
Prince Gent and Princess Hemel raised their heads and meekly followed the Dragon, who led them to the hall they had glimpsed. While they walked to the other side, where they were delighted to spot a blazing fire, the Dragon idly chattered about the goings-on in its palace and on the mountain. Once there, the Dragon fell quiet and gestured to a pair of comfortable-looking chairs in front of the fireplace. It settled itself on the shining floor. Princess Hemel sat down at once, glad to rest her feet. Prince Gent hovered protectively behind her chair until she waved him off.
‘Now we are to speak formally, young ones. Am I correct in assuming you, Intelli-Gent, came here because you wish to be King?’
‘Yes, mighty Dragon.’ Prince Gent said. ‘I was told I would find the wisest and most powerful of all beings on this mountain, and that he will decide if I am worthy to become King.’
‘Then you have found him, Gent. It was I who took your father’s Crown and Sword. If I deem you worthy, I will alter them to make them suit you more closely. Now, Hemel, why have you come?’
‘I, oh mighty Dragon, have come only to assist my brother. He is the eldest and the best suited for kingship. I have no desire to rule,’ Princess Hemel said.
‘Then all is good and proper. I have watched you from a distance, and I have found that you would both be worthy of the throne. If you, Hemel, don’t want to carry such a heavy burden, the matter is easily settled. Gent, are you prepared to take charge of your country and lead it as best as you can, for better or for worse?’
‘Yes, mighty Dragon,’ Prince Gent said. ‘I’m willing to do so.’
‘Then it is done. But first, take note of this: The Sword must never be used for violence. It is for ceremonial purposes only. The Crown you must always wear, for it gives you strength and wisdom. Come forward and claim your Crown and Sword, King Intelli-Gent.’
The Dragon lifted its front paw. Underneath lay a heavy golden Crown and a shining silver Sword.
‘I understand, Oh mighty Dragon,’ Prince Gent said. ‘But there is a problem. I could never part with my top hat. It holds the knowledge of a thousand books and an unlimited supply of biscuits besides.’
‘Hmm. That is a problem, Gent. You cannot wear both at the same time, yet I cannot let you leave without your Crown.’
‘Then I cannot be King,’ Prince Gent said sadly. A tear rolled down his cheek.
Princess Hemel suddenly rejoiced and sprang to her feet.
‘Can’t I wear this crown, Oh mighty Dragon?’ she asked. ‘I will use its power only to aid and assist my King if he has need of it. Can’t the problem be solved this way?’
‘That, courageous Princess, is a very wise suggestion. That is how it shall be. You shall wear King Gent’s Crown for him. King Gent, take your Sword and stand aside.’
King Gent gave his sister a thankful glance and took the Sword. The Dragon breathed on the Crown, which shimmered and seemed to melt. It reformed into a much smaller circlet.
‘Princess Hemel, this shall be your Crown. Wear it proudly.’
Princess Hemel came forward and picked up the Crown. It was now made of silver and set with uncountable small gems that formed a pattern of flowers.
‘Take them home and do not wear either until the coronation ceremony,’ the Dragon said. ‘Then all will be well.’
King Gent bowed and thanked the Dragon. Princess Hemel curtsied.
The Dragon heaved a deep sigh. ‘Right-o! We’re done. You know, being the wisest is terribly tedious. Imagine having to speak like that all the time, Kinglet! I’m glad I’m done for today. I’ll take you to your horses now. They’ll be glad to see you.’
The horses were waiting for them in the stables, neighing happily at the sight of their owners. King Gent and Princess Hemel were given food and drink for their journey home.
When they returned to the Castle, Spring had returned. The people were overjoyed at their return. The farmers returned to planting, the millers to grinding, and the bakers to baking.
Within a week, the coronation took place. At the subsequent feast King Gent and Princess Hemel saw many of their closest friends. There was Leonidas, Princess of a nearby Kingdom, the Blue Knight, who wrote some of the most famous tales recorded in the Castle Library, and Duchess Petri, whose long red hair was the marvel of the age. And, as you well know, they, King Gent, and Princess Hemel lived happily ever after.
The first bit of a story that is as of yet unfinished. Expect more updates at a later date.
Half an hour or so before King Gent finally managed to drag himself out of bed, Princess Hemel was already up. Her maid, Kagome, was bustling about the room, looking for a suitable dress for the Princess.
"Hemie, Hemie, what do you think of this one?" Kagome asked excitedly, presenting her friend with a frilly green dress. "Or this one?" She held up the next dress on the pile. "Or this one? Or this one?"
Princess Hemel suppressed a yawn. "They're all wonderful, Mah. How about you pick the one you like best?"
"Oh, but I'm no princess!" Kagome said, shocked. "How could I possibly choose the right one?"
"Well, you're the expert on dresses, princess or no. I just wear them, and that's enough for me. Do we really need to discuss this again?"
"But, but, Hemie!"
"Just pick one already, silly!"
Kagome smiled contentedly. "In that case..." She rummaged through the dresses, muttering to herself. "That one's too simple... This one, then? No, it's too warm for such sleeves... This one's perfect! Hold on, I forgot. The skirt still has to be mended... Hmm..."
Hemel picked up her brush and attempted to disentangle her messy curls. Kagome usually needed a while to make up her mind.
"Aha!" Kagome said happily and started clearing away dresses. "Don't look, Hemie, it's a surprise!"
Hemel obediently closed her eyes. "Not a ball gown, I hope?"
"No, no! Those are only for balls, silly goose! Raise your arms, please."
"I know that! You made me wear one last Thursday!"
"That was no ball gown! You were going out for a picnic, and you just can't go out for a picnic without wearing a pretty dress! Now raise your left leg, please."
"Well, fine, but why did it have to be so complicated? I couldn't even sit properly!"
They continued bickering in their usual cheerful way until the dress was finally on. Suspiciously many buttons and ribbons were on it, Hemel thought.
"There, all done! You can look now."
Hemel cautiously opened her eyes and walked over to the mirror. "I'd forgotten I still had this one!" she exclaimed, delighted.
The dress was pale blue and set off her eyes, which this morning happened to be deep blue and exceptionally sparkly. Hemel's eyes frequently changed to a different colour. She wasn't sure why.
"Glad you like it!" Kagome beamed. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Hemie. I have to go check up on your brother. He will probably have overslept again."
"Geeent!"
Gent groaned and attempted to pull his blankets over his head. Someone had opened the curtains and grabbed the blankets, foiling his attempt.
"Gentie-poo! Time to get up!"
"Hmf," Gent complained. "What time is it?"
"Breakfast is ready in thirty minutes, sleeping beauty," Kagome announced cheerfully. She went on to open a few windows to let in some air.
"What?!" Gent was instantly awake and jumped out of bed, flailing. "But I have to get dressed and find my top hat and... Oh, cripes!"
Kagome chuckled. "Hurry up, then. I'm going to help your little sister with her hair. See you in a bit." She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Gent started running around, frantically looking for a suit and top hat that matched it. After a few minutes of this he stubbed his toe against the leg of a chair.
"Bother!"
He realised, however, that he would have to stop panicking if he wanted to actually find his clothes. Rubbing his toe, Gent carefully hopped to his wardrobe and almost instantly found what he needed. To his relief, no one seemed to have used his top hat as a hiding place this time. When he had shaken it out yesterday morning, Tea had tumbled onto the floor, but before he had gotten over the shock of it, she had, rather annoyingly, run away and could no longer be scolded. Gent had scolded the hat instead, calling it an utterly unreliable piece of fabric, and threatening to leave it in his wardrobe for the rest of the month if it provided shelter for Tea once more. He only put it on when he was absolutely sure it felt properly ashamed of itself.
Just as Gent spotted his cane, partially hidden behind the sofa, Hemel knocked on the door.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"I am! Hold on, let me grab my - oh, where has it gone off to now?"
"What is it?"
"I can't find my top hat! I know I had it in my hands a minute ago!"
Hemel opened the door and peered around the corner. "It's on your head," she said. Gent could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Very funny," he said, scowling. "Let's go, or we'll be late for breakfast. Is Kagome there too?"
Without waiting for an answer (he could hear her giggling), Gent stomped past his sister, heading for the staircase. He now faced the daunting task of finding the room where breakfast would be served. The Intelli-Castle had a nasty habit of moving around some of its rooms when it thought nobody was looking, so every morning he, Kagome, and Hemel had to find it all over again. Today they were in luck. After going up and down only five flights of stairs Kagome spotted the door.
When they entered the room, they found that all the other inhabitants of the Castle were already there, eating their breakfast. Several of them didn't notice their King had arrived and went on talking and eating until someone loudly cleared his throat.
"Good morning, Your Highnesses," everyone chorused, and they all bowed or curtsied.
"A good morning to you too," Gent replied, and Hemel nodded silently, looking rather flustered. Gent resolved to set her more preening tasks. This would not do for a Princess!
Hemel quickly dashed off, Kagome trailing behind her, to find her favourite cornflakes. Gent followed more slowly, for he had caught sight of himself in a mirror and had to check if he looked as handsome as he felt. He looked even better, he concluded proudly, and decided on the spot that there would be a Ball tonight. He felt like showing off his charm and general marvellousness.
Gent hurriedly polished off his breakfast, and then stood, waiting for everyone to stop talking again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, make sure you eat plenty of breakfast, because you will all be rather busy today," he announced. "I have to decided that there is to be a Ball tonight, and I want everything to be perfect. Princess Hemel, would you mind helping with the baking this morning? We'll need a large supply of biscuits, and you're best at making them. Kagome, please make sure the ballroom is properly decorated, and send out the invitations. Blue will help you with those."
Hemel and Kagome nodded vigorously, as did the others.
"If anyone needs me for anything," Gent continued. "They're out of luck. I have a rather large pile of letters waiting for me, and I do not wish to be disturbed. I will see you in the library when I'm done, Hemel," he added softly.
The effect of his intended grand exit was rather ruined when he stopped to look in the mirror again, adjusting his top hat and smiling fetchingly at his reflection. Kagome giggled.
"Peacock," he heard Hemel mutter. "I keep waiting for him to fall in love with himself. Should be any day now."
Gent turned around and glared at her, utterly destroying the last bit of dignity left to his royal departure. Several people laughed. Disappointed in himself, Gent left the room.
"Oh, well," he said to himself. "I'll try again tomorrow morning, I suppose."
After several detours Gent managed to locate his study. In front of the door stood a box filled with what seemed to be at least a thousand letters. He'd have to add those to the pile already on his desk, then. Grumbling about the hardships of being a King, Gent pushed open the door. Another box stood behind it.
"Oh, cripes! More letters?" The heavy scent of perfume wafted into his face when he opened it. "Fanmail! As if I have nothing else to do," he complained.
Moodily, he dumped both boxes on the floor next to his desk, sat down, and opened a letter. It contained a farmer's complaint about the disproportionate amount of carrots overflowing the market these days. Would the King be so kind as to forbid other farmers to grow them? The next letter was a housewife's lament about the lack of carrots these days, and when one could get them, they were so expensive! Would the King be so kind as to encourage more farmers to grow them? The third was a chef's list of grievances. Carrots weren't what they used to be, he wrote. They tasted like parsnips (and the parsnips tasted like carrots, by the way)! And they were so small, and hardly orange. Would the King be so kind as to forbid the growing of such awful modern carrots? In fact, most of the letters on his desk were of the same ilk.
Gent sighed exasperatedly, and made a note about it. Must ban any and all carrots, it said.
By the time he had read all the letters he could cram into one morning, his notes included such things as Consider ordering more books for public library, but detective stories and biographies of Isaac Newton only, Court in need of wigs, and Must exile ALL fangirls to Siberia ASAP hire someone to deal with their letters. He had also encountered several envelopes with unmentionables in them. They made him flail repeatedly. He suspected Tea of having sent most of them, and decided to ask Dungeonmaster Hero to lock her up for a few weeks as punishment.
After having put the letters he still needed to reply to on one pile and the ones he hadn't read yet on another, he left his study, wondering if the library was still in the same place as it had been yesterday. However, before he could try and find out, someone came running towards him. It was Kagome.
"Gent! What colour should the decorations be?" She asked, slightly out of breath.
This took him rather by surprise. "Uhm, well, the same as usual?" he suggested.
"Red again?" Kagome seemed rather disappointed.
"Yes, and mauve. What's wrong with that?"
"It's always red and mauve! I'll ask your sister to pick something this time. By the way, shouldn't you be attending a meeting at the moment?"
"Should I?" Gent couldn't recall any meetings he had been asked to attend today. "What kind of meeting?"
"The Christmas meeting, silly goose! You know, the secret one Hemel isn't supposed to know about? It was supposed to start 15 minutes ago, I believe."
"Oooh! Right! I'll be off, then!" Gent took off down the hall.
"Hemie, Hemie, what do you think of this one?" Kagome asked excitedly, presenting her friend with a frilly green dress. "Or this one?" She held up the next dress on the pile. "Or this one? Or this one?"
Princess Hemel suppressed a yawn. "They're all wonderful, Mah. How about you pick the one you like best?"
"Oh, but I'm no princess!" Kagome said, shocked. "How could I possibly choose the right one?"
"Well, you're the expert on dresses, princess or no. I just wear them, and that's enough for me. Do we really need to discuss this again?"
"But, but, Hemie!"
"Just pick one already, silly!"
Kagome smiled contentedly. "In that case..." She rummaged through the dresses, muttering to herself. "That one's too simple... This one, then? No, it's too warm for such sleeves... This one's perfect! Hold on, I forgot. The skirt still has to be mended... Hmm..."
Hemel picked up her brush and attempted to disentangle her messy curls. Kagome usually needed a while to make up her mind.
"Aha!" Kagome said happily and started clearing away dresses. "Don't look, Hemie, it's a surprise!"
Hemel obediently closed her eyes. "Not a ball gown, I hope?"
"No, no! Those are only for balls, silly goose! Raise your arms, please."
"I know that! You made me wear one last Thursday!"
"That was no ball gown! You were going out for a picnic, and you just can't go out for a picnic without wearing a pretty dress! Now raise your left leg, please."
"Well, fine, but why did it have to be so complicated? I couldn't even sit properly!"
They continued bickering in their usual cheerful way until the dress was finally on. Suspiciously many buttons and ribbons were on it, Hemel thought.
"There, all done! You can look now."
Hemel cautiously opened her eyes and walked over to the mirror. "I'd forgotten I still had this one!" she exclaimed, delighted.
The dress was pale blue and set off her eyes, which this morning happened to be deep blue and exceptionally sparkly. Hemel's eyes frequently changed to a different colour. She wasn't sure why.
"Glad you like it!" Kagome beamed. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Hemie. I have to go check up on your brother. He will probably have overslept again."
"Geeent!"
Gent groaned and attempted to pull his blankets over his head. Someone had opened the curtains and grabbed the blankets, foiling his attempt.
"Gentie-poo! Time to get up!"
"Hmf," Gent complained. "What time is it?"
"Breakfast is ready in thirty minutes, sleeping beauty," Kagome announced cheerfully. She went on to open a few windows to let in some air.
"What?!" Gent was instantly awake and jumped out of bed, flailing. "But I have to get dressed and find my top hat and... Oh, cripes!"
Kagome chuckled. "Hurry up, then. I'm going to help your little sister with her hair. See you in a bit." She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Gent started running around, frantically looking for a suit and top hat that matched it. After a few minutes of this he stubbed his toe against the leg of a chair.
"Bother!"
He realised, however, that he would have to stop panicking if he wanted to actually find his clothes. Rubbing his toe, Gent carefully hopped to his wardrobe and almost instantly found what he needed. To his relief, no one seemed to have used his top hat as a hiding place this time. When he had shaken it out yesterday morning, Tea had tumbled onto the floor, but before he had gotten over the shock of it, she had, rather annoyingly, run away and could no longer be scolded. Gent had scolded the hat instead, calling it an utterly unreliable piece of fabric, and threatening to leave it in his wardrobe for the rest of the month if it provided shelter for Tea once more. He only put it on when he was absolutely sure it felt properly ashamed of itself.
Just as Gent spotted his cane, partially hidden behind the sofa, Hemel knocked on the door.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"I am! Hold on, let me grab my - oh, where has it gone off to now?"
"What is it?"
"I can't find my top hat! I know I had it in my hands a minute ago!"
Hemel opened the door and peered around the corner. "It's on your head," she said. Gent could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Very funny," he said, scowling. "Let's go, or we'll be late for breakfast. Is Kagome there too?"
Without waiting for an answer (he could hear her giggling), Gent stomped past his sister, heading for the staircase. He now faced the daunting task of finding the room where breakfast would be served. The Intelli-Castle had a nasty habit of moving around some of its rooms when it thought nobody was looking, so every morning he, Kagome, and Hemel had to find it all over again. Today they were in luck. After going up and down only five flights of stairs Kagome spotted the door.
When they entered the room, they found that all the other inhabitants of the Castle were already there, eating their breakfast. Several of them didn't notice their King had arrived and went on talking and eating until someone loudly cleared his throat.
"Good morning, Your Highnesses," everyone chorused, and they all bowed or curtsied.
"A good morning to you too," Gent replied, and Hemel nodded silently, looking rather flustered. Gent resolved to set her more preening tasks. This would not do for a Princess!
Hemel quickly dashed off, Kagome trailing behind her, to find her favourite cornflakes. Gent followed more slowly, for he had caught sight of himself in a mirror and had to check if he looked as handsome as he felt. He looked even better, he concluded proudly, and decided on the spot that there would be a Ball tonight. He felt like showing off his charm and general marvellousness.
Gent hurriedly polished off his breakfast, and then stood, waiting for everyone to stop talking again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, make sure you eat plenty of breakfast, because you will all be rather busy today," he announced. "I have to decided that there is to be a Ball tonight, and I want everything to be perfect. Princess Hemel, would you mind helping with the baking this morning? We'll need a large supply of biscuits, and you're best at making them. Kagome, please make sure the ballroom is properly decorated, and send out the invitations. Blue will help you with those."
Hemel and Kagome nodded vigorously, as did the others.
"If anyone needs me for anything," Gent continued. "They're out of luck. I have a rather large pile of letters waiting for me, and I do not wish to be disturbed. I will see you in the library when I'm done, Hemel," he added softly.
The effect of his intended grand exit was rather ruined when he stopped to look in the mirror again, adjusting his top hat and smiling fetchingly at his reflection. Kagome giggled.
"Peacock," he heard Hemel mutter. "I keep waiting for him to fall in love with himself. Should be any day now."
Gent turned around and glared at her, utterly destroying the last bit of dignity left to his royal departure. Several people laughed. Disappointed in himself, Gent left the room.
"Oh, well," he said to himself. "I'll try again tomorrow morning, I suppose."
After several detours Gent managed to locate his study. In front of the door stood a box filled with what seemed to be at least a thousand letters. He'd have to add those to the pile already on his desk, then. Grumbling about the hardships of being a King, Gent pushed open the door. Another box stood behind it.
"Oh, cripes! More letters?" The heavy scent of perfume wafted into his face when he opened it. "Fanmail! As if I have nothing else to do," he complained.
Moodily, he dumped both boxes on the floor next to his desk, sat down, and opened a letter. It contained a farmer's complaint about the disproportionate amount of carrots overflowing the market these days. Would the King be so kind as to forbid other farmers to grow them? The next letter was a housewife's lament about the lack of carrots these days, and when one could get them, they were so expensive! Would the King be so kind as to encourage more farmers to grow them? The third was a chef's list of grievances. Carrots weren't what they used to be, he wrote. They tasted like parsnips (and the parsnips tasted like carrots, by the way)! And they were so small, and hardly orange. Would the King be so kind as to forbid the growing of such awful modern carrots? In fact, most of the letters on his desk were of the same ilk.
Gent sighed exasperatedly, and made a note about it. Must ban any and all carrots, it said.
By the time he had read all the letters he could cram into one morning, his notes included such things as Consider ordering more books for public library, but detective stories and biographies of Isaac Newton only, Court in need of wigs, and Must exile ALL fangirls to Siberia ASAP hire someone to deal with their letters. He had also encountered several envelopes with unmentionables in them. They made him flail repeatedly. He suspected Tea of having sent most of them, and decided to ask Dungeonmaster Hero to lock her up for a few weeks as punishment.
After having put the letters he still needed to reply to on one pile and the ones he hadn't read yet on another, he left his study, wondering if the library was still in the same place as it had been yesterday. However, before he could try and find out, someone came running towards him. It was Kagome.
"Gent! What colour should the decorations be?" She asked, slightly out of breath.
This took him rather by surprise. "Uhm, well, the same as usual?" he suggested.
"Red again?" Kagome seemed rather disappointed.
"Yes, and mauve. What's wrong with that?"
"It's always red and mauve! I'll ask your sister to pick something this time. By the way, shouldn't you be attending a meeting at the moment?"
"Should I?" Gent couldn't recall any meetings he had been asked to attend today. "What kind of meeting?"
"The Christmas meeting, silly goose! You know, the secret one Hemel isn't supposed to know about? It was supposed to start 15 minutes ago, I believe."
"Oooh! Right! I'll be off, then!" Gent took off down the hall.
Improved (1 July 2016)
A story that isn't Intelli-related, but which I think most of you will enjoy anyway:
Wet, dreary days always put Grendel in a particularly vile mood. He did live in a swamp, after all. The swamp was too wet at the best (and driest) of times, and those awful Danes in that terrible hall called Heorot always stayed in if it rained. They would then sing their stupid drinking songs until they fell asleep where they sat.
Despite their supposed bravery and heroism, they all loathed rain, and avoided it whenever possible. Grendel, on the other hand, had no choice but to endure it, and it made him think longingly of the hut he once built out of strong, waterproof turf. He’d spent weeks perfecting it. He’d even decorated the walls and his new bed with crude woodcarvings of his favourite birds. For a short while he could shut out most of the rain and at least some of the noise.
The Danes demolished it when he was away having tea at his mother’s. They threw a big party afterwards to celebrate their cowardly act (this had been their dumbest move to date, Grendel often thought). The destruction of his hut made him even more resentful.
Today was one of the wettest, dreariest days in a very long time. Grendel wandered moodily about his swamp, glaring at the ever-growing puddles and scowling at the frogs (who were having a marvellous time hopping about and making everything slimy as well as wet). Grass stuck to his feet and legs, and mud splattered all over him, quickly recoating the spots where the rain had only just washed away the previous layers of green and grey filth.
He muttered an unbroken stream of foul oaths as he slipped and slithered along the path to his favourite fishing pond. He roared in exasperation when he lost his feet and broke his new fishing rod.
Today was clearly going to be miserable whatever he did, so Grendel glowered and made his way back to the driest spot in the swamp, a small patch of damp grass under a large tree.
It was located far too close to Heorot, however, and the loud, boisterous voices drifting over the hills soon proved to be intolerable. A long time ago, Grendel had gone to the hall to ask the Danes to keep in mind that swamp monsters have very keen ears.
He had honestly attempted to explain why he wanted them to be a bit quieter. Disappointingly enough, this did not seem to work. Unable to comprehend how anyone, even a monster such as Grendel, could dislike loud noises, especially boisterous drinking songs, they had sneered and laughed. They chased him from the hall, jabbing him with their swords and spears.
This hurt his feelings, and the next time they were being preposterously loud, he lost his temper. He stomped across the hills, shouted a few choice curses at them, and, when the Danes started to look around for their weapons, he killed and dismembered some of them. This, he reasoned, would serve two purposes: first, there would be less men to sing noisy songs, and second, there would be less men coming to bother him in his swamp.
It had, if anything, the opposite effect. The Danes seemed to breed (and, suddenly and decidedly unheroically, scatter and hide) like rats, and once news got round that the swamp monster Grendel was violent and more dangerous than other monsters, all sorts of foolish foreigners started turning up and waving axes at him. He supposed it gave some of his acquaintances some time off from being harried by their human neighbours.
Cursing humans in general and the inhabitants of Heorot in particular, Grendel got up and slouched away from his spot under the tree. As everywhere else in his swamp would have gotten thoroughly soaked by now, he might as well get as far away from Heorot as he could before sitting down again and wondering whether anything could be more depressing than being a swamp monster who disliked all things wet and slimy.
Before he had got very far from the patch of grass he heard several loud yells, accompanied by the splashing of hooves in muddy soil – sounds that always alerted him to a troop of warriors on horseback. Grendel stopped to look.
Sixteen horses trudged over the marshy hills, their riders trying to make them move faster than the weary animals could go. The men were richly dressed in colourful tunics and decorated armour. They stood in stark contrast to their mounts, which had all gone uniformly grey with filth. Their packhorse seemed to be suffering the most. It staggered after the others under an enormous load of pointless possessions like showy cloaks that wouldn’t even keep them warm. It didn’t seem to be able to keep up, despite being kicked several times by its handler. Grendel felt sorry for the horses, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. Soon enough, the horses would be put in a warm, dry stable, where they would be watered and fed and pampered. Horses were expensive, and were therefore treated fairly well; Grendel was not, and was therefore treated as less than the oldest, lamest, scruffiest dog.
Grendel suspected the horsemen were visitors, which he knew usually meant even more singing and shouting. Even if he moved to the furthest part of his swamp he would be able to hear their merry-making as clearly as if they were sitting right next to him.
‘Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, has come to rid us of the monster!’ Grendel heard the men inside Heorot chant. ‘He will kill the evil monster Grendel, and we will finally be free!’
It was the sixth time this month that a ‘hero’ decided to try and see if he could win more glory for himself and his kingdom. They thought they’d achieve this goal by being a rather loud addition to the drinking parties and then ‘attacking’ Grendel when they were fed up with being hungover.
Grendel was forced to kill every single one of them. Whenever he decided not to (he didn’t like killing people in the slightest), they would invariably call in reinforcements and try again and again until he did get rid of them more permanently.
This Beowulf was bound to be exactly the same as those before him.
And that did it for Grendel. He was moving back in with his mum, however much he might hate living in a lake. He was going to have to move out of the swamp he had moved into to try and escape her constant nagging and fussing. There was no helping it.
But before he did so he was going to teach this Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, a very important and very final lesson.
Despite their supposed bravery and heroism, they all loathed rain, and avoided it whenever possible. Grendel, on the other hand, had no choice but to endure it, and it made him think longingly of the hut he once built out of strong, waterproof turf. He’d spent weeks perfecting it. He’d even decorated the walls and his new bed with crude woodcarvings of his favourite birds. For a short while he could shut out most of the rain and at least some of the noise.
The Danes demolished it when he was away having tea at his mother’s. They threw a big party afterwards to celebrate their cowardly act (this had been their dumbest move to date, Grendel often thought). The destruction of his hut made him even more resentful.
Today was one of the wettest, dreariest days in a very long time. Grendel wandered moodily about his swamp, glaring at the ever-growing puddles and scowling at the frogs (who were having a marvellous time hopping about and making everything slimy as well as wet). Grass stuck to his feet and legs, and mud splattered all over him, quickly recoating the spots where the rain had only just washed away the previous layers of green and grey filth.
He muttered an unbroken stream of foul oaths as he slipped and slithered along the path to his favourite fishing pond. He roared in exasperation when he lost his feet and broke his new fishing rod.
Today was clearly going to be miserable whatever he did, so Grendel glowered and made his way back to the driest spot in the swamp, a small patch of damp grass under a large tree.
It was located far too close to Heorot, however, and the loud, boisterous voices drifting over the hills soon proved to be intolerable. A long time ago, Grendel had gone to the hall to ask the Danes to keep in mind that swamp monsters have very keen ears.
He had honestly attempted to explain why he wanted them to be a bit quieter. Disappointingly enough, this did not seem to work. Unable to comprehend how anyone, even a monster such as Grendel, could dislike loud noises, especially boisterous drinking songs, they had sneered and laughed. They chased him from the hall, jabbing him with their swords and spears.
This hurt his feelings, and the next time they were being preposterously loud, he lost his temper. He stomped across the hills, shouted a few choice curses at them, and, when the Danes started to look around for their weapons, he killed and dismembered some of them. This, he reasoned, would serve two purposes: first, there would be less men to sing noisy songs, and second, there would be less men coming to bother him in his swamp.
It had, if anything, the opposite effect. The Danes seemed to breed (and, suddenly and decidedly unheroically, scatter and hide) like rats, and once news got round that the swamp monster Grendel was violent and more dangerous than other monsters, all sorts of foolish foreigners started turning up and waving axes at him. He supposed it gave some of his acquaintances some time off from being harried by their human neighbours.
Cursing humans in general and the inhabitants of Heorot in particular, Grendel got up and slouched away from his spot under the tree. As everywhere else in his swamp would have gotten thoroughly soaked by now, he might as well get as far away from Heorot as he could before sitting down again and wondering whether anything could be more depressing than being a swamp monster who disliked all things wet and slimy.
Before he had got very far from the patch of grass he heard several loud yells, accompanied by the splashing of hooves in muddy soil – sounds that always alerted him to a troop of warriors on horseback. Grendel stopped to look.
Sixteen horses trudged over the marshy hills, their riders trying to make them move faster than the weary animals could go. The men were richly dressed in colourful tunics and decorated armour. They stood in stark contrast to their mounts, which had all gone uniformly grey with filth. Their packhorse seemed to be suffering the most. It staggered after the others under an enormous load of pointless possessions like showy cloaks that wouldn’t even keep them warm. It didn’t seem to be able to keep up, despite being kicked several times by its handler. Grendel felt sorry for the horses, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself. Soon enough, the horses would be put in a warm, dry stable, where they would be watered and fed and pampered. Horses were expensive, and were therefore treated fairly well; Grendel was not, and was therefore treated as less than the oldest, lamest, scruffiest dog.
Grendel suspected the horsemen were visitors, which he knew usually meant even more singing and shouting. Even if he moved to the furthest part of his swamp he would be able to hear their merry-making as clearly as if they were sitting right next to him.
‘Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, has come to rid us of the monster!’ Grendel heard the men inside Heorot chant. ‘He will kill the evil monster Grendel, and we will finally be free!’
It was the sixth time this month that a ‘hero’ decided to try and see if he could win more glory for himself and his kingdom. They thought they’d achieve this goal by being a rather loud addition to the drinking parties and then ‘attacking’ Grendel when they were fed up with being hungover.
Grendel was forced to kill every single one of them. Whenever he decided not to (he didn’t like killing people in the slightest), they would invariably call in reinforcements and try again and again until he did get rid of them more permanently.
This Beowulf was bound to be exactly the same as those before him.
And that did it for Grendel. He was moving back in with his mum, however much he might hate living in a lake. He was going to have to move out of the swamp he had moved into to try and escape her constant nagging and fussing. There was no helping it.
But before he did so he was going to teach this Beowulf, son of Ecgtheow, a very important and very final lesson.
