Divers Paces With Divers Persons
Title: Divers Paces With Divers Persons
Author: angevin2
Recipient: the_alchemist
Play: The Winter's Tale
Pairing/characters: Hermione, Paulina, a great many random Shakespeare characters, and a Very Special Guest Star
Rating: G
Word Count: 1032
Warnings: Heinous abuse of geography, chronology, plausibility, and the Shakespearean canon.
Summary: Hermione, believed dead by all, goes places and does stuff.
Author's Notes: This is so cracktastic. I hope you enjoy it!
What do you do to comfort someone who has lost everything?
Paulina has no idea. When the news comes that her own husband has been eaten by a bear, if it creates a fellow-feeling of grief, it brings nothing whatsoever of insight. Paulina and Antigonus never had children, and Paulina cannot imagine what it must be like to lose one child, to say nothing of two. And she and her husband are old; it doesn't seem strange that one of them might die. But the queen was young and happy before her husband lost his wits; such people cannot help but think they will live forever.
"I should go back to my family in Russia," Hermione says one day. "There's been nothing for me here for a long time."
"If you're going to leave," Paulina says, "you should travel the world, first."
The next day she arranges passage on a ship, headed for somewhere called Illyria. Paulina has no idea what is there, but she likes the name.
***
Dearest Paulina,
Illyria is a beautiful country, and right now it is incredibly festive, because their Duke is going to be married -- I hear that his bride-to-be washed up from a shipwreck, and won his heart dressed as a boy. I hope all goes well for her.
I am lodging at an inn called the Elephant, where I have just dined with three melancholy men: a knight who looks like a scarecrow, a sea captain, and a former steward in tattered yellow stockings. The latter two have become, it seems, fast friends, for they are both unfortunate in love -- it is astonishing what people will tell you when they don't know you are royalty.
The scarecrow knight is trying to buy me a bottle of wine. I should, therefore, retire to avoid his attentions, but I shall write more at my earliest leisure.
Yours,
Hermione
***
Dear Paulina,
I doubt it will arrive with this letter, but look for a package from Athens. I met a very sweet-faced weaver at the Agora, who told me I reminded him of the queen of Faerie. He was so sincere that I bought a bolt of his cloth. I have no idea what to do with it, so I am sending some of it to you.
Yours,
Hermione
***
Paulina,
I do not know what it was possessed me to go sailing, but I think that henceforth I will forgo it. We had every intention of dropping anchor and visiting a beautiful island, when a sudden storm blew up; although we have avoided the worst of it, the boat has been tossed most appallingly, and the sky has been full of unearthly fire, such that all who saw it have been stricken to the soul.
If you are reading this, it is a fine indication that I have survived, but I am not very well pleased.
H.
***
My dear Paulina,
All have come out of the storm no worse for wear, and I am sorry for my short temper. Today we dined with the governor of Cyprus, a very charming young man. He told us the terrible story of his predecessor -- a valiant Moor who, deceived by a wicked ensign that she was unfaithful, killed his wife and then himself, and all who were with us were moved to tears. I could not remain at the table.
I would I could speak to that lady. I would have much to say to her.
Hermione
***
Dearest Paulina,
I know that to you it has been years since last I wrote. I can scarcely begin to describe where I have been. In Constantinople I met a man who behaved, and spoke, and dressed like no one I have seen even in all my travels; he calls himself only "the Doctor," and he travels in a magical blue box.
The sorts of places he visits -- if I told you in a letter, you would surely think I was having you on. Someday I promise I will tell you in person.
Yours, Hermione
P.S. He travels with a lady friend called Donna. I wish you could meet her; she reminds me very much of you.
***
Dear Paulina,
It is amazing how dreary even the most beautiful parts of Italy seem after you've traveled to places you couldn't even imagine before you are actually there. We stayed overnight in Padua and on the way there passed a man and his wife arguing about whether or not the sun was actually the moon. It is by no means difficult to tell the difference.
Hermione.
***
My dear Paulina,
Venice really is a lovely city, even after you have so much of the world with which to compare it. Today on the Rialto I met a beautiful noblewoman wearing breeches, along with her husband and his close friend (or so they said). I could not help but envy the three of them; it made me think of Leontes and how dearly he loved Polixenes -- but I would just as soon not write about that.
I have it on good authority that in three thousand years such relationships will be common, and even usual, and for that, I think I even envy the people of the future, a little.
Yours, Hermione.
***
My dear Paulina,
I have spent the last day in Verona, and I think I shall have to leave very shortly. In the town square there are a pair of golden statues, of two young lovers whose feuding families drove them to a tragic end. Young people in love come to the statues now and leave flowers at their feet. I could not help but think of my own daughter.
Hermione
***
Dearest Paulina,
I have just returned from speaking with the Queen of Naples, who is certainly the most personable royalty I have ever met, and interacts with her subjects, and with foreign visitors, far more than her position requires. She said it comes of growing up on a lonely island, and that it is wonderful to have people to talk to all the time. I would have liked for my children to be like her.
I could never say why, but I think that it was this meeting that told me I am ready to come home.
Yours,
Hermione
***
When she returns to Sicilia, Hermione has seen so much of the world, and of worlds beyond.
And her daughter's smile is more beautiful than any of it.
Author: angevin2
Recipient: the_alchemist
Play: The Winter's Tale
Pairing/characters: Hermione, Paulina, a great many random Shakespeare characters, and a Very Special Guest Star
Rating: G
Word Count: 1032
Warnings: Heinous abuse of geography, chronology, plausibility, and the Shakespearean canon.
Summary: Hermione, believed dead by all, goes places and does stuff.
Author's Notes: This is so cracktastic. I hope you enjoy it!
What do you do to comfort someone who has lost everything?
Paulina has no idea. When the news comes that her own husband has been eaten by a bear, if it creates a fellow-feeling of grief, it brings nothing whatsoever of insight. Paulina and Antigonus never had children, and Paulina cannot imagine what it must be like to lose one child, to say nothing of two. And she and her husband are old; it doesn't seem strange that one of them might die. But the queen was young and happy before her husband lost his wits; such people cannot help but think they will live forever.
"I should go back to my family in Russia," Hermione says one day. "There's been nothing for me here for a long time."
"If you're going to leave," Paulina says, "you should travel the world, first."
The next day she arranges passage on a ship, headed for somewhere called Illyria. Paulina has no idea what is there, but she likes the name.
***
Dearest Paulina,
Illyria is a beautiful country, and right now it is incredibly festive, because their Duke is going to be married -- I hear that his bride-to-be washed up from a shipwreck, and won his heart dressed as a boy. I hope all goes well for her.
I am lodging at an inn called the Elephant, where I have just dined with three melancholy men: a knight who looks like a scarecrow, a sea captain, and a former steward in tattered yellow stockings. The latter two have become, it seems, fast friends, for they are both unfortunate in love -- it is astonishing what people will tell you when they don't know you are royalty.
The scarecrow knight is trying to buy me a bottle of wine. I should, therefore, retire to avoid his attentions, but I shall write more at my earliest leisure.
Yours,
Hermione
***
Dear Paulina,
I doubt it will arrive with this letter, but look for a package from Athens. I met a very sweet-faced weaver at the Agora, who told me I reminded him of the queen of Faerie. He was so sincere that I bought a bolt of his cloth. I have no idea what to do with it, so I am sending some of it to you.
Yours,
Hermione
***
Paulina,
I do not know what it was possessed me to go sailing, but I think that henceforth I will forgo it. We had every intention of dropping anchor and visiting a beautiful island, when a sudden storm blew up; although we have avoided the worst of it, the boat has been tossed most appallingly, and the sky has been full of unearthly fire, such that all who saw it have been stricken to the soul.
If you are reading this, it is a fine indication that I have survived, but I am not very well pleased.
H.
***
My dear Paulina,
All have come out of the storm no worse for wear, and I am sorry for my short temper. Today we dined with the governor of Cyprus, a very charming young man. He told us the terrible story of his predecessor -- a valiant Moor who, deceived by a wicked ensign that she was unfaithful, killed his wife and then himself, and all who were with us were moved to tears. I could not remain at the table.
I would I could speak to that lady. I would have much to say to her.
Hermione
***
Dearest Paulina,
I know that to you it has been years since last I wrote. I can scarcely begin to describe where I have been. In Constantinople I met a man who behaved, and spoke, and dressed like no one I have seen even in all my travels; he calls himself only "the Doctor," and he travels in a magical blue box.
The sorts of places he visits -- if I told you in a letter, you would surely think I was having you on. Someday I promise I will tell you in person.
Yours, Hermione
P.S. He travels with a lady friend called Donna. I wish you could meet her; she reminds me very much of you.
***
Dear Paulina,
It is amazing how dreary even the most beautiful parts of Italy seem after you've traveled to places you couldn't even imagine before you are actually there. We stayed overnight in Padua and on the way there passed a man and his wife arguing about whether or not the sun was actually the moon. It is by no means difficult to tell the difference.
Hermione.
***
My dear Paulina,
Venice really is a lovely city, even after you have so much of the world with which to compare it. Today on the Rialto I met a beautiful noblewoman wearing breeches, along with her husband and his close friend (or so they said). I could not help but envy the three of them; it made me think of Leontes and how dearly he loved Polixenes -- but I would just as soon not write about that.
I have it on good authority that in three thousand years such relationships will be common, and even usual, and for that, I think I even envy the people of the future, a little.
Yours, Hermione.
***
My dear Paulina,
I have spent the last day in Verona, and I think I shall have to leave very shortly. In the town square there are a pair of golden statues, of two young lovers whose feuding families drove them to a tragic end. Young people in love come to the statues now and leave flowers at their feet. I could not help but think of my own daughter.
Hermione
***
Dearest Paulina,
I have just returned from speaking with the Queen of Naples, who is certainly the most personable royalty I have ever met, and interacts with her subjects, and with foreign visitors, far more than her position requires. She said it comes of growing up on a lonely island, and that it is wonderful to have people to talk to all the time. I would have liked for my children to be like her.
I could never say why, but I think that it was this meeting that told me I am ready to come home.
Yours,
Hermione
***
When she returns to Sicilia, Hermione has seen so much of the world, and of worlds beyond.
And her daughter's smile is more beautiful than any of it.