Topic: Fortnightly Writing Competition: Courtly Love

[WHAM]

Courtly Love



A nobleman, a knight, or perhaps even a more unexpected individual in love, but alas, the target of this love is a fair lady of far-too-high status; a princess, a queen, an empress.
Such cruel love burns the soul as it goes unfulfilled, lingering in the back of the mind, poisoning thoughts and sparking longing and pain day and night, while the noble status of one or both parties are held back from fulfilling their wants and needs by the requirements of their station in society.

Write a story of courtly love.
Your story may take place in any setting where you feel you can insert this theme.
Stories must not be longer than 15 000 characters to ensure the limited time for reading and voting can be used effectively.

Deadline: 19th of March 2019 - 23:59 UTC

[Baron]

Oh man, I recognize that cover art!  I must have read that novel when I was like 13 years old.  Didn't the knights take some kind of oath to keep the princess or whatever alive, but one dies off every month until the curse is broken (or permanent)?  I think I stopped reading the series after book two, so now I'll never know if their courtly love was in vain....

[WHAM]

I have to admit I had no idea where the art was from, it just came up in a google search when I was looking for a suitable image to represent the theme.

[Mandle]

A Moment Of Pause

I'd been mulling over this month's Fortnightly Writing Competition with a theme I knew little about nor could I find myself really getting inspired by.

I paused the Jim Carrey movie I had tried watching for above-mentioned inspiration and decided to head off down the shops due to the snackless environment I found myself in.

Outside, birds were singing, sun was shining, a couple walked hand-in-hand, a garbageman loaded a struggling burlap sack into his truck's crusher, leaves floated down from autumn trees, children played hopscotch on chalk-drawn outlines on the...

Pause! Rewind!

A garbageman loaded a perfectly normal garbage-bag into his truck's crusher, leaves floated down from autumn trees, children played hopscotch on chalk-drawn outlines on the pavement.

I nodded "good morning" to an elderly lady that I saw often but did not know well, the garbage truck pulled out to continue its rounds, one of the hopscotch children fell through the number four square, a car drove by blaring heavy metal, the church bells down the block started ringing, signalling Sunday Morning...

Pause! Rewind!

The hopscotch child hopped solidly onto the number four square but lost footing on the way to five and said "Shit!", the other children giggled, the garbage truck's tires left treadmarks of blood and the heavy-metal car's tires had eyes going around and around but always looking at me, and the Sunday Morning Mass church bells rang on and on...

Pause! Fast-Forward!

I rounded the corner into the street with the neighborhood shopping strip.

The church bells stopped, a man waiting for a bus with a normal face, a very normal face, made brief eye-contact with me and winked a friendly wink, I glanced away as fast as I could and entered the grocery store of infinite valves on infinite pipes, and found the cheesey snacks I desired on the third slumped shoulder in the center aisle...

Pause! Skip To Next Chapter!

The bus-waiting man with the very normal face with the fingers coming from his bleeding eye-sockets and the wriggling prawn-legs for hair chased me all the way back to my front door but I slammed it in his very normal face and slid the bleached old crow-beak safely into its slot.

Unpause!

The Jim Carrey movie continued on and it was only while I was watching the pro-wrestling scene between him and Courtney Love that I had my inspiration for what I would write this story about, but upon re-reading the theme, I realized I had gotten the entire concept wrong.

I felt so bad that I had to go lay down on my tongue for a while...

Eject!

[Sinitrena]

Mandle, lol 

Shall I... for my Lady

Shall I sing every ballad of love and devotion, my Lady?
Shall every voice rise to praise our eternal love?
It will tell of your beauty and kindness at heart
for you are, without doubt, the most perfect art,
and in this murder of crows you are the sweetest dove.
I will sing every ballad of love and devotion, my Lady!

All in the name of love and as love’s surest sign,
and to your distant love I shall myself resign.
- Oh knight, my knight, what shall I do with love’s sweetest words,
when I know that the answer so deeply hurts? -


Shall I wander the shores of every known ocean, my Lady
and collect all the tears their depths ever spilled?
For just pearl and its mother should ever grace your crown
and they shall adorn your black hair and flowing gown.
Though to match your beauty it needs a tailor most skilled.
I will wander the shores of every known ocean, my Lady!

- All this, just for love? - And as love’s surest sign,
and to a kiss as an answer I shall myself resign.
- Oh knight, my knight, what shall I do with the ocean’s own tears?
Love given as lie will not dampen your fears. -


Shall I find a white horse to ride for my Lady
that wears on its forehead a silver, spiralling horn?
It will bow to your pure heart with its wild wavy mane
and only for you it could ever be tame.
And to your grace it would forever be sworn.
I will find a white horse to ride for my Lady!

All in the name of love and as love’s surest sign,
and to a token from you I shall myself resign.
- Oh knight, my knight, what shall I do with the mightiest steed?
From your heart’s false convictions I wish you freed. -


Shall I slay a dragon for you, my Lady?
A fierce beast with claws of iron and diamond teeth,
that shimmer as bright as the spark in your eyes?
And may I fight close to death for a thousand tries,
I will never give up and my sword never sheath.
I will slay a dragon for you, my Lady!

- All this, just for love? - And as love’s surest sign,
and to a look as an answer I shall myself resign.
- Oh knight, my knight, what shall I do with a dragon’s head?
Chasing a love never found is really just sad. -


Shall I find your true love for you, my Lady,
the knight you have lost years ago in a flood?
For him I shall fight even a dragon’s sharp claws
and no unicorn’s fierce look could give me pause.
For him I shall pledge both my honour and blood.
I will find your true love for you, my Lady!

- All in the name of my love. - And as love’s surest sign,
and to your happiness I shall myself resign.
- Oh knight, my knight, what shall I do without true love’s embrace? -
If there is one, my Lady, I shall find his trace!

[Mandle]

I just read yours Sinitrena...

Is it about a creepy stalker dude forever trapped in The Friend Zone?

That was what I took away from it... 

[Sinitrena]

Is it about a creepy stalker dude forever trapped in The Friend Zone?

Well... I would agree with eternal Friend Zone, but creepy stalker? That's a bit harsh to the poor guy. I mean, he is a bit too presistent but they have a civil conversation and he asks for less and less from his lady when she doesn't accept his suggestions. In the end he even settles on making her happy by finding the one person she loves.

[Mandle]

Is it about a creepy stalker dude forever trapped in The Friend Zone?

Well... I would agree with eternal Friend Zone, but creepy stalker? That's a bit harsh to the poor guy. I mean, he is a bit too presistent but they have a civil conversation and he asks for less and less from his lady when she doesn't accept his suggestions. In the end he even settles on making her happy by finding the one person she loves.

Oh, okay. I guess I was looking at it through modern societal eyes because if he was my friend I would be telling him to "Dude, chill out, she just ain't into you." 

[Sinitrena]

And you wouldn't be wrong. Though "My Lady" is perfectly capable of telling the guy herself, thank you very much. 

[WHAM]

Just a few precious days to go, people! Give it all you've got and give Mandle and Sinitrena a run for their proverbial money!

[Baron]

I've got something started but it's a bit of a hot mess right now....  Interested in doling out an extension or two? 

--------------

Edit

Well, I haven't heard, so I'm going to post what I've got.  It would be better with the climatic conclusion, but without the extension you'll have to read it as-is:

--------------

Edit Edit. 

Well, now I'm done, so no [further] extension needed. 

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The Love-Fool Diaries

March 30, 1348,

   Hello parchment.  It is I, Timon the Fool, who dares confide in thee.  If my lord the dread Vlard the Bowel-Weaver were to read these words, he would have me split six ways in twain.  Happily he can read but two letters, each being painted in blood upon his many victims to indicate their fate.  Well, in truth both letters are exes written in subtly different ways -but never mind that!  There are more important matters to record than the barbaric habits of a brutal madman.

   Ha ha!  Just kidding Vlard.  I was JOKING!  If you are having this read to you should know that your old crazy Fool is pretending to write silly letters!  Silly, boring letters.  Funny foolish Fool!  Ah ha ha ha.....  But my, all this reading grows tiresome, doesn't it?  Best to put the parchment down now and go enjoy a nice bit of skull-busting.  Yay!

   OK parchment, now it's just you and me.  The great matter weighing on my heart and mind is Vlard's beautiful daughter, Buzella.  I fear I can no longer bestill my pounding heart in her presence.  Every dawn she seems to bloom fairer and fairer.  Her eyes bedazzle like frosty jewels.  Her hair cascades in great curly tresses of brilliant gold.  Her skin is the colour and smell of a peach flavoured yogurt.  Her laugh peals like a choir of angels.  And her bosom, sweet Gar!  Poetry does not do it justice!

   But stunning beauty aside, it is Buzella's soul that I most admire.  Whereas her father and siblings are all murderous brutes with all the sophistication of a fleet of crocodiles, sweet Buzella is as kind and pure as a cherub.  She is sharp of wit and is quite enthralled with music, tales, and high-brow jests.  I would happily saw off my own arm to spend a quiet afternoon basking in her radiance.

   Alas, Lord Vlard would happily saw my arm off for me in such a circumstance, and more limbs yet.  He has declared that young Buzella's purity is to be preserved in case he needs to placate the demon Frytemare with a virgin sacrifice.  So any amorous advances on my part must be courtly, careful, fleeting, discreet, and bold. 

    Wish me luck, parchment!  For tonight I hatch the first steps of my daring plan....

---------------------

 March 31, 1348

   Dear diary, I am bored.  Boredom bore Boreson boredy-bored McBored.  Bored bored bored bored bored.  BORED.  Methinks the meanest ditch-digger of the realm has more
amusement than I, Buzella, high princess of Cruhl.  He at least would have the discovery of the sundry beasts of the earth to pique his interest, the husbanding of little trickling rivulets to challenge his mind, and the sport of evading the whip to give thrill to his miserable existence.  But what have I besides the cold walls of this palace prison and daddy's olympic belching contests?

   True, there was today the hollow entertainment of poor Timon the Fool.  In truth he can be quite amusing if left to jape or jest, but as long as daddy's around the funniest thing he does is dodge axes while screaming like a little girl.  Oh, if only daddy would go off on another crusading massacre!

      Oh, but there was one moment of mild amusement this day.  My wicked step-sister Scuzella received a love letter secreted amongst the berries of her breakfast.  She tried to eat it at first, but after spitting it out in disgust I was able to read it to her.  Her suitor waxed most romantically (indeed quite charitably) about her looks and figure.  He is apparently quite smitten with her use of the flute.  All I've ever seen her use it for is to pick at the crusty snots wedged deep within her monstrous nose, but who am I to judge the reckless whimsy of love?  Scuzella is to leave a favour with some words of encouragement in a specific alcove if she wishes to encourage the suitor further.  Of course she just raged venomously at the craven spinelessness of the whole affair, which made it all the more diverting.  Alas, the only encouragement she plans to offer is the sharp end of a rusty halberd axe, but for my own amusement I may just happen to forget a favour and a few words in her stead....

----------------

March 32, 1348

   I have joyful news, parchment!  While lurking unsuspected behind a tapestry I did witness princess Buzella herself surreptitiously leaving her favour for me!  Oh happy, joyous, frabjous day!  But what is more inspiring yet are the words she there left me, which I shall paste herein so that they might be preserved for all eternity:

   Dear noble sir, I am overcome with emotion at the boldness of your devotion.  You brave such peril lest it be discovered!  I fear for your safety, and yet I must read more of your sweet affection.  Prithee write as often as opportunity affords but secrecy allows.  My heart barely dares to beat out the seconds until I hear from thee again.  Lonely for you love,

                                                                                              Princess

   I tell you, parchment, I tumbled and flipped through every corridor of the castle upon reading it!    My chest feels as light as a thrush flitting from twig to twig in rapturous song.  Everyone I meet seems cheered by the aura of joy radiating throughout the keep.  Even dread Vlard seemed in a congenial mood this afternoon, barely singeing the soles of the prisoners with his favourite hot-poker.  The only sour expression in the whole court was worn by the pig-faced Scuzella, wicked step-sister to Princess Buzella.  Of course the joy of others would pinch the gitch of the world's most spiteful lizard....  Mayhaps if she didn't fart every time she opens her mouth she might one day entice the interest of a lover herself?  Well, a blind and scaly lover, at any rate.  Yes, my gaiety is such that I can even wish a pale imitation of happiness upon such a wretched creature as Scuzella!

   And now, parchment, I am off to compose another daring letter.  Wish me luck!

--------------

April 2, 1348

   Dear Diary, I have never laughed more than I have this day.  Scuzella received another letter, this time hidden carefully within her riding gloves.  Her wicked step-sister Blobella shrieked with mirth upon hearing the words, which sent Scuzella into an epic tantrum of vandalism.  Apparently her admirer wishes to caress her tiny feet as one snuggles with a squirming infant!  Her feet are only so tiny because all the toes and adjacent flesh were hacked off on the field of battle....  But never mind that, for the very idea sent her into a fit of such hysterical wrath that daddy caught wind of what's been happening.  He insisted that Scuzella marry the man, lest she be forever painted as the shameless flirt.  Scuzella lost all control at this point, screaming a vow that she would sooner feed the cur into the kitchen meat-grinders and eat him as sausage, bones and all! 

   For my part, I must caution the utmost secrecy upon her admirer, for I do detest the glee with which Scuzella doth grind the flesh of her living victims.  But I cannot bear to have the fun stop now -more letters must be sent!

-------

March 33, 1348

   Hello again, parchment.  I am running out of room to write on you due to this large rune occupying your lower reaches.  It vaguely looks like a tattoo, which makes me wonder at your provenance, good parchment....  So, keeping my words short, I must confide to you the details of the great disaster unfolding in my love-life.  Apparently my letters have somehow been misdirected to the repulsive Scuzella, who has vowed to slowly murder the sender slowly by means of culinary mangling.
Only my anonymity shields me from her tenderizing wrath.

   Alas, I fear in my haste to court the beautiful Buzella I *might* have left several letters in various spots of hiding around the palace.  So now I am off to seek them as quickly as non-nonchalance allows.  Wish me luck, parchment!  If I do not return you must assume that I have been pulped into processed meat.  Tell my story! 

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April 3, 1348

    Dear Diary, the plague has struck again, carrying off my step-sister's step-sister Blobella and Harolf the Pretty-Man.  Alas, Turderic the Ass-Wafter remains healthy as an ox, as do Jarles the Pants-Chaffed and Chavid Pus-Squirter.  Daddy says the sickness has decimated his army, so there will be no campaign of havoc this season.  The plague has also caused poor Momsie to cut short her visit with relations in the Incestulands.  I almost didn't recognize her with her newly braided moustache! 

   I have no update to give regarding the love-life of Scuzella.  Astonishingly, her vows of torturous murder and constant patrolling of the castle corridors with a cudgel seem to have put off her would-be suitor.  Like all pleasant diversions, this bit of fun I've had at her expense has been but a passing shaft of sunlight in the otherwise eternal dreariness of life at court.  Off to bed, I suppose....

--------

April 4, 1348

   Dear Diary.  I did this morning discover another letter for Scuzella!  How her admirer managed to circumvent her patrols I will never know.  True, in his haste he left the note beneath my pillow instead of hers, but the mistake is understandable given the circumstances.  Of course I showed it to her right away, expecting another cannonade, but her only reaction was a hideous curl of her lip into a grin most villainous.  She bade me tell no one of my discovery, and then took the note directly to the kennels, whereupon she set father's half-starved bloodhounds to get the scent of its composer.  In a trice she set them loose upon the unsuspecting castle, running behind them with venom in her eyes and a meat-hook in her hand.  I followed closely, a knot in my stomach for what was about to pass.

   Soon the hounds began to bay in unison, and Scuzella too began to howl along!  Together the pack leapt up the stairs, and through the halls, salivating at the prospect of running their quarry to ground.  The blood pounded in my ears at the effort required to keep up, pounding out the last seconds of some poor man's life like some monstrous mechanical clock.  At last they had him cornered behind the closed door to the garderobe....

   “Fitting!” spat Scuzella as the dogs clawed ravenously at the door.  “That a piece of shit shall meet its end in the privy!”  With an unholy scream she kicked the door open, and all as one mass she and the hounds rushed in.  I waited in the corridor, wincing in anticipation of splattering blood, but it never sprayed.  In a moment Scuzella stalked out, fuming. 

   Holding a handkerchief to my nose I entered, curiosity getting the better of me.  Indeed, the tiny chamber was empty but for the throng of confused dogs.  I let out a long sigh of relief, marvelling at the desperate ingenuity of the man who had just so narrowly evaded a most violent mutilation.  It was probably just the gentle clinking of the dogs' chains, but I almost thought I heard tiny bells echoing as if through a narrow tunnel....



 

[WHAM]

Aaaugh! It seems I have granted an extension by accident, since I've been so swept up with work that I missed the darn deadline!

Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our contestants for the past fortnight:

A Moment Of Pause by Mandle

Shall I... for my Lady by Sinitrena

The Love-Fool Diaries by Baron

Please cast your votes in the following categories:

Best Character: Main Character or supporting, it doesn't matter. Which character stood out as interesting, funny, unusual, ect...
Best Atmosphere: Which story made you feel - anything really. Which story dragged you into a world of its own?
Best Writing: The technical aspect of writing. Turns of phrases, style.
Best Heart Throb/Break/Ache: Which story made you truly feel for one or more parties included?

With only three stories to go on, I think we can manage with a fairly short voting deadline of: 24th of March 2019 / 23:59 UTC

(Psst: Spread the word outside of the Competitions & Activities board if you dare. Would be nice to have more voters than just the participants themselves.)

[Sinitrena]

Mandle: I really like your story. It's nicely written, the Pause. Rewind stuff works well with little details changed and makes it quite intresting to read, even though there is not much going on when it comes to plot and the little plot we have has - even being generous - nearly nothing to do with the topic. As a matter of fact, I struggled with the decision to give any points to this story even in the categories where I think it is superior, simply because the challange of this competition is to write a story to a specific topic.

Baron: Your characters are not very likeable and despite the fool saying Buzella isn't like the rest of her family, she really is, enjoying the torment of her sister's (supposed) suiter as much as she does. I can't tell if this is intentional - Love makes blind and a fool of us all - or not. Either way, it makes me not root for any of them to succeed. It at least is a story about love that happens at court and I can see some elements of courtly love, though it doesn't eally feel like a story about courtly love. I guess for a topic like that I expect at least some inklings of romantic.

Best Character: Baron
Best Atmosphere: Baron
Best Writing: Mandle
Best Heart Throb/Break/Ache: Baron

[JudasFm]

Sinitrena I liked your entry, although I'm not a fan of poetry in general. I liked that the knight seemed resigned to the fact that his love would never be requited, and so he decided to pour that energy into finding his true love's own true love. Feels all round!

Baron The letters were a clever idea, but the biggest problem I had was that the Fool - who would know that there were two princesses, and possibly more - wouldn't address his adored princess by name. I get that the joke wouldn't work if he had, but it was too unrealistic to really get me invested.

Mandle I liked the little details being changed and the use of Pause. Rewind, but, well, I don't get it. There's no plot, and what happens has no relation to the prompt. Maybe I'm missing something, but the world makes no sense (why/how is the character pausing and rewinding? Why is it different? Is the character hallucinating?)

So, onto the votes!

Best Character: Baron, for the Fool
Best Atmosphere: Baron
Best Writing: Sinitrena
Best Heart Throb/Break/Ache: Sinitrena