Nonchallenge Penta- and Sesqui-Drabbles: Mithridates
Title: Mithridates, He Died Old
Author: Amedia
Rating: G
Characters: DG, OC, mention of Az. Gen.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Imagiquest Entertainment. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: DG learns about palace intrigue from her etiquette teacher.
Word Count: 500 (penta-drabble)
Author's Note: Response to erinm_4600's trivia question drabble request: the prompt she provided was "DG finds a flagon with a dragon. GO!!!!!" I hope this comes close enough! The wordplay near the end is partly derived from the movie The Court Jester. The title comes from A. E. Housman's poem "Terence, This is Stupid Stuff."
The Royal Etiquette Mistress was the only person in the O.Z. who intimidated the Witch; Azkadellia took great delight in reminding DG of this fact before every lesson. Madame Politesse was one hundred twenty-seven years old, although she didn't look a day over seventy. She was always meticulously well groomed from her silver-white hair to her high-buttoned ankle boots and spoke in a soft, genteel tone even when verbally flaying an unfortunate interlocutor. DG found her utterly terrifying.
******
"Today, Princess, I must speak to you of palace intrigue." DG's ears perked up; this promised to be more interesting than recent lessons. "As you should know, the O.Z. is surrounded by a number of more or less friendly neighbors. Now that we are once again at peace, we will be inviting foreign dignitaries to state dinners and other formal occasions."
DG frowned to herself. That didn't sound very intriguing. Madame's next words, however, were more promising.
"In the course of these formal occasions, it is not infrequently the case that some of our guests may attempt to murder one or more of our other guests from another country or even their own." She waited a moment for DG to digest this information, then continued. "It may one day fall upon you to make the decision whether to hinder or abet one of these attempts."
"Hinder or abet… I would decide whether to help kill somebody?" DG asked, horrified yet fascinated.
Madame shrugged. "You should discuss this further with your tutors in Political Science and Ethical Theory. I'm simply here to teach you the protocol. There may be an occasion, inconceivable as it might seem, when the O.Z. does not wish to interfere with its neighbors' squabbles. In such a case we might feign assistance while providing a mere sugar pill.
"Now, the deadly deed is usually done by means of a poisoned pellet, which may have been slipped into beverages served in any number of receptacles, such as a flagon with a dragon, a vessel with a pestle, a chalice from a palace, and so on. Your task will be ensure that the follow-up drink is delivered by the appropriate servant.
"You see, we generally entrust the antidote to the servants that we hire in. But we don't want word to get out that we also employ apparent antidotes that are in fact ineffectual, and so those are only handled by servants who work for us directly. The two can be distinguished by their apparel; outside workers wear ordinary uniforms, while our own people, men and women alike, wear black tie."
DG nodded, trying to take it all in. "So, if a pellet with a poison's in the potable of a potentate…"
"Then the waiter from the caterer has the curative restorative, while the lass in the tuxedo has the glass with the placebo," Madame said solemnly. "You may wish to repeat that a few times until you can remember it exactly."
"Ah, no thanks," said DG. "I'll write it down."
Title: Mithridates, a missing scene
Author: Amedia
Rating: G
Characters: DG, OC, Glitch. Gen.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Imagiquest Entertainment. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: There are some things Glitch has not forgotten.
Word Count: 150 (sesqui-drabble)
Author's Note: This was part of the original draft of "Mithridates, He Died Old," but it didn't seem to fit organically with the rest of the piece. So I cut it, but I couldn't bear to kill it, and thought I would share.
Madame Politesse was taller than Glitch; DG knew this because she had seen them together once. He had been sent to interrupt a lesson with an urgent message for Madame from the Queen. Apparently he had knocked at exactly the right volume, paused exactly the right number of seconds before entering, and given DG the precise bow mandated for a reinstated former advisor to give an adult member of the royal family with whom he enjoyed a certain degree of familiarity.
DG had witnessed a miracle next: Madame had smiled. Accepting a kiss on the cheek from Glitch, she had beamed at him and said, "You haven't forgotten anything I taught you, have you?"
He smiled back. "They'd have to have removed a much higher percentage of my brain for that to happen. At least 85% according to my calculations. And even then, I would still retain my table manners."
Author: Amedia
Rating: G
Characters: DG, OC, mention of Az. Gen.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Imagiquest Entertainment. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: DG learns about palace intrigue from her etiquette teacher.
Word Count: 500 (penta-drabble)
Author's Note: Response to erinm_4600's trivia question drabble request: the prompt she provided was "DG finds a flagon with a dragon. GO!!!!!" I hope this comes close enough! The wordplay near the end is partly derived from the movie The Court Jester. The title comes from A. E. Housman's poem "Terence, This is Stupid Stuff."
The Royal Etiquette Mistress was the only person in the O.Z. who intimidated the Witch; Azkadellia took great delight in reminding DG of this fact before every lesson. Madame Politesse was one hundred twenty-seven years old, although she didn't look a day over seventy. She was always meticulously well groomed from her silver-white hair to her high-buttoned ankle boots and spoke in a soft, genteel tone even when verbally flaying an unfortunate interlocutor. DG found her utterly terrifying.
******
"Today, Princess, I must speak to you of palace intrigue." DG's ears perked up; this promised to be more interesting than recent lessons. "As you should know, the O.Z. is surrounded by a number of more or less friendly neighbors. Now that we are once again at peace, we will be inviting foreign dignitaries to state dinners and other formal occasions."
DG frowned to herself. That didn't sound very intriguing. Madame's next words, however, were more promising.
"In the course of these formal occasions, it is not infrequently the case that some of our guests may attempt to murder one or more of our other guests from another country or even their own." She waited a moment for DG to digest this information, then continued. "It may one day fall upon you to make the decision whether to hinder or abet one of these attempts."
"Hinder or abet… I would decide whether to help kill somebody?" DG asked, horrified yet fascinated.
Madame shrugged. "You should discuss this further with your tutors in Political Science and Ethical Theory. I'm simply here to teach you the protocol. There may be an occasion, inconceivable as it might seem, when the O.Z. does not wish to interfere with its neighbors' squabbles. In such a case we might feign assistance while providing a mere sugar pill.
"Now, the deadly deed is usually done by means of a poisoned pellet, which may have been slipped into beverages served in any number of receptacles, such as a flagon with a dragon, a vessel with a pestle, a chalice from a palace, and so on. Your task will be ensure that the follow-up drink is delivered by the appropriate servant.
"You see, we generally entrust the antidote to the servants that we hire in. But we don't want word to get out that we also employ apparent antidotes that are in fact ineffectual, and so those are only handled by servants who work for us directly. The two can be distinguished by their apparel; outside workers wear ordinary uniforms, while our own people, men and women alike, wear black tie."
DG nodded, trying to take it all in. "So, if a pellet with a poison's in the potable of a potentate…"
"Then the waiter from the caterer has the curative restorative, while the lass in the tuxedo has the glass with the placebo," Madame said solemnly. "You may wish to repeat that a few times until you can remember it exactly."
"Ah, no thanks," said DG. "I'll write it down."
Title: Mithridates, a missing scene
Author: Amedia
Rating: G
Characters: DG, OC, Glitch. Gen.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Imagiquest Entertainment. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: There are some things Glitch has not forgotten.
Word Count: 150 (sesqui-drabble)
Author's Note: This was part of the original draft of "Mithridates, He Died Old," but it didn't seem to fit organically with the rest of the piece. So I cut it, but I couldn't bear to kill it, and thought I would share.
Madame Politesse was taller than Glitch; DG knew this because she had seen them together once. He had been sent to interrupt a lesson with an urgent message for Madame from the Queen. Apparently he had knocked at exactly the right volume, paused exactly the right number of seconds before entering, and given DG the precise bow mandated for a reinstated former advisor to give an adult member of the royal family with whom he enjoyed a certain degree of familiarity.
DG had witnessed a miracle next: Madame had smiled. Accepting a kiss on the cheek from Glitch, she had beamed at him and said, "You haven't forgotten anything I taught you, have you?"
He smiled back. "They'd have to have removed a much higher percentage of my brain for that to happen. At least 85% according to my calculations. And even then, I would still retain my table manners."