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| Just a Touch of Magic; Queenie's Hand Drawns | |
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| Topic Started: Dec 6 2010, 11:39 PM (188 Views) | |
| Queenie | Dec 6 2010, 11:39 PM Post #1 |
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Hot Lips
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I realized I never made a hand drawn thread here, so I figured I should. First post (aide form this) will be a contest entry back on TDP. |
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| Queenie | Dec 7 2010, 12:45 AM Post #2 |
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Hot Lips
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Posted Image \base/ Want to read the comments that go with the story and the image? Click here! Name: Princess Joyce Bridget Helen Fairway Age: 15 Fandom: Shrek Drabble: Where we last left off, Princess Joyce Bridget Helen Fairway had released Jack the Djinn and fallen head-over-heels in love with him, despite Djinn laws forbidding human-Djinn romances, and they entered the capital city of Far Far Away. Now read on for the conclusion... Princess Joyce Bridget Helen Fairway was blown away by the sheer size and grandeur of the capital city; the roads were paved, all of the buildings dwarfed her, and everywhere she looked the place kept sprawling out with side streets. How was one expected to navigate such a place? She wondered. After the swamp in which Joyce had grown up, where her own home had naught but three rooms, Far Far Away was absolutely overwhelming. She stepped lightly, gazing about her with her jaws lightly parted as she wandered along the main road cutting through the city and heading uphill. With the exception of people attempting to sell their wares, Joyce went largely ignored; the people did not know that royalty was among them, that the lone redhead wandering the streets could have become their princess, if not for the fact that Shrek and Fiona had given up their claim to the throne. Suddenly, Joyce wondered why she'd come; what did she expect to happen here? She was poor as a peasant, with not a coin to her name, in a large and prosperous city. What could she do, run up to the palace beg for entrance based on the fact that her mother was royal and hope they'd believe her? Without thinking, Joyce muttered, "I wish I had some sort of proof of my identity, at least..." Jack appeared beside her right then and there, though he'd be invisible to anyone else aside from Joyce. Joyce jumped, having not realized that she'd used the words "I wish," as he handed her a letter. Though he knew she hadn't meant to make that wish, the spell that bound him to the lamp compelled him to grant that wish, intended or not. "Since you made the wish for this, I think you should go ahead to the palace," he said, his dark eyes locking onto her blue ones. Alarmed, Joyce stammered, "Wh- what do I do when I get there?" "Just tell the guards that your mother, Princess Fiona, sent you to visit your cousin and current king, Arthur; whatever's; in the letter should confirm that, once they send for one of the higher ups to read it," Jack said. When at last they reached the palace, that was exactly what happened; the letter was in Fiona's hand and explained all about Joyce's supposed visit. She was given her mother's old room, and was set to meet the king later; at the moment, he was in some sort of meeting, with the "Knights of the Round Table", whoever they were. As there was nothing else to do, Joyce began to explore the room, Jack's black eyes following her as she opened drawers and explored their contents, gasped at the size of the wash room, and gasped yet again when she found the wardrobe. The gowns within were all made of the finest of all fabrics, in the richest of colors. Joyce lightly ran had hands over them all, marveling at the plush velvets, smooth silks, and delicate cottons. Then, behind them all, her hand brushed leather. Leather? Joyce wondered to herself. Gently, she pushed all of the other gowns aside to find a dark brown leather skirt and a light purple top with gold on the breast, as well as some sort of protective metal plates that went on the shoulders, and even a dark brown cape. Joyce pulled them all out to better examine them. "What is this?" she murmured, running her fingers over the gold filigree that decorated the entire ensemble. "I'd say it's armor," Jack said. He appeared to be sitting on the bed, though how one could sit when one lacked a rear and instead had a lower body made up of smoke is a true mystery to all. "Armor? But I thought my grandfather didn't approve of my mother learning to fight?" Joyce said. Jack shrugged. "Maybe your grandmother had it made, or your mother herself saved up and had it commissioned." "I guess that's possible..." Joyce said. "I- I wonder if it'd fit me?" "Go try it on; I don't see the harm," Jack said, waving a hand toward the bathroom. Joyce laughed, a light, joyous sound like a chorus of bells, and went into the bathroom. She tripped several timed upon trying to get out of her periwinkle gown and the excessive undergarments that went along with it. Finally, she was able to put the leather skirt on, the top, and the shoulder guards, to which the cape was attached. Through the door, Joyce heard Jack say, "Are you alright in there? I've never had to wear a gown, but it sounds pretty dangerous to me." Joyce couldn't help but smile at that, but said, "I- I don't think I should come out in this..." She glanced down at the skirt, which didn't even reach mid thigh, and the top exposed quite a fair bit of midriff. "Why not?" Jack asked. Joyce sucked in a deep breath and opened the door and stepped out, saying, "I feel indecent in this." She flushed tomato red when she noticed that Jack was gaping at her. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Jack closed his mouth with a snap and shook his head, for a moment unable to answer, unable to even think over the pounding of his heart. "I- that is- J-Joyce?" he said at last. "You're- you're beautiful. Breath taking." Joyce's fading blush renewed itself at that, and she stammered, "Do- do you really think so?" "Yes, I do," Jack said quietly, his black eyes meeting her blue ones. "Oh! Well- uh- you know... I- I think you're very h-handsome," she said shyly, averting her eyes, her last blush blending into a new one. "You do?" Jack said. Before his imprisonment in the lamp, Jack had been quite the ladies' man, but such times were long past now. "Of course I do!" Joyce said, shocking herself as well as Jack. "I- Jack... I think I love you." There was a moment of silence between them, then Jack said, "I think I love you, too, but- but it's forbidden." "What do you mean?" Joyce asked, sudden panic constricting her heart, making each beat painful. "A Djinn may not marry a human. That's our law," Jack said. This time, he was the one who averted his eyes. "But why?" Joyce said, walking over to where Jack sat. Jack shook his head; he didn't know. Bitterly, Joyce said, "I wish you were free, free of the lamp and of the restrictions of your kind." Jack sat up straighter and looked her in the eye, power hummed about him as if he was about to give her yet another unintentional wish, but then the power was suddenly cut off, and Jack fell limp onto the bed; he was unconscious. "Jack!" Joyce exclaimed, reaching for him. Just as she got to him and placed her hand upon his forehead, a low, disembodied woman's voice, full of power, said, "I wouldn't touch him if I were you, deary." Joyce jumped, almost falling. There, beside her, appeared a very tall, regal-looking woman with skin like Jack's. Though the eyes were the same color, hers had none of Jack's warmth, but were instead hard and cold. Unlike Jack, she also had legs, which were hidden beneath a heavily embroidered red skirt that was part of a one-shouldered dress. On her head she wore a headpiece made of intricately wrought gold that suspended a garnet upon her forehead. Nostrils flared, the imposing, imperious woman sneered at Joyce and said, "So, you are the impertinent little snip of a girl who's stolen Jamshid's heart." She chuckled with cold amusement. "I think my son deserves better than the likes of you, a mere mortal." Joyce gasped and stared at the woman, frighteningly beautiful in her foreign garb, and said, "Y-you're Jack's mother?" "Jack!" the woman hissed. "Another one of Jamshid's nicknames!" "His real name is Jamshid?" Joyce breathed, her blue eyes, clouded with worry, sliding to his prone form on the bed. "What happened to him?" "I simply stopped him from fulfilling a wish that he was not within his rights or power to grant," she said. "And now I will put this... affair with you to an end." Joyce turned to Jack's mother, for once angered; who the hell did she think she was? Who was she to control her son's destiny? "And just how do you plan on doing that?" she snapped. Cold, hard amusement glittered in those eyes as she said, "I shall dispose of you, preferably in the most efficient means available. As the queen of the Djinn, I don't believe I will find that too hard." Alarmed, Joyce back up into the wall. She seemed then to realize that she could do little against an immortal being of such power. Very suddenly, a hoarse croak came from the bed; "Touch her mother, you die." "You are in no condition to harm me, Jamshid," his mother said. "It's time you left this girl, it's time you came home; it's clear the usual lamp punishment just put you in deeper trouble than before." Jack said but one thing; "No. I love her." "Love?" she sneered. She seemed about to say something, then stopped herself. Straightening herself, she turned to Joyce. Though her face looked largely neutral, Joyce could see another sneer in those onyx eyes. "You love him, do you? Then prove it; three days hence, at the rising of the full moon, come to the Stone Circle, which is not far from here, I understand. If you love him as you say, you must duel me; defeat me in sword craft, and he is yours. But for now I must leave, and take my besotted, useless son with me." With a sudden, blinding flash of light, they were both gone. All that was left was the lamp. Picking it up, Joyce realized that, until its occupant had left, the metal had never been truly cold. Now, it was like holding a chunk of ice. ~ The next three days saw a huge change in Princess Joyce Helen Bridget Fairway. Though many would name such a time as short, it felt an eternity to her now that her love was not by her side. In that time, she'd met the King Arthur, her cousin once removed, who was now in his thirties. When she begged for his help, he freely gave it, as was his way. She learned how to sword fight in record time, bewildering her tutors, and was given a beautiful palomino mare. The mare was of a great temperament, and was on the lighter side of the color range for a palomino, making her a sort of white gold with a flowing cream mane and tail. Joyce loved her instantly, and named her Starlight. When that third day came, Joyce turned down many offers of escorts, including the king himself. She told them all that this was something she had to do alone. Just as the sun began to set, Joyce saddled and mounted Starlight, murmuring, "This is it, girl." Then, she set off to the designated meeting place. Just a little ways from the city was the Stone Circle. Perched upon a hill of green grass and wild flowers were stone arches, some leaning drunkenly, others toppled altogether. The center was clear of all but short grass. Joyce tried to get Starlight to pass under one of the arches, but the palomino refused, backing and nickering nervously. Joyce soothed her, then finally convinced her to pass between two arches instead of going under one. Once they got to the center, Joyce dismounted and let Starlight graze on the short grasses present, knowing her loyal horse would never leave her side for long. Joyce herself practiced with her sword as the sun kissed the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant reds and golds. The stone archways cast eerie shadows that seemed to shift restlessly like living things, living things that longed for the night. A few minutes after the sun was swallowed up by the horizon, the moon appeared, pale and evanescent, looking ghostly and insubstantial in the purple twilit sky. A chill breeze blew by, lifting Joyce's long red braid from her back. In this moment, she looked remarkably like her mother, but there was none there to witness it. That, however, was soon to change. The Stone Circle echoed with her voice as she said, "So, you came. I must say, I'm quite surprised you bothered." With the last sentence, the voice seemed to condense just behind Joyce, so she whirled to see Jack's mother just behind her, a mocking glint in her eyes. Joyce met her stare coldly. "Of course I came; do you know nothing of love?" "Love is but a socially accepted form of madness," the queen said. Joyce did her best to ignore this, knowing this was meant to incite her to anger and therefore into making careless decisions. She took a deep breath, then said, "Where is Jack?" "His name is not Jack. His given name is Jamshid, Prince Jamshid to you, human," the queen said. "He is here, but he may not make himself known to you; he is a spectator only. He must learn that his little game is over, and has signed your death warrant." She paused and began to circle Joyce, who turned to keep the snake-like woman in sight. "But I am a fair woman, and will give you a small chance, at least," she said with a laugh. She stepped back and drew a wickedly curved sword made from some foreign, bluish metal that Joyce somehow knew was stronger than any steel. Joyce drew her own slim sword, one made for a quick fighter rather than a brutish or strong fighter. There was a few seconds during which the two adversaries measured the other up, then they clashed, the air ringing with the sound of metal clanging. The queen of the Djinns fought viciously and tiredly, and was a hard match. But Joyce had talent and an instinct on when to slash, when to block, an instinct that had amazed her teachers. The fight seemed to go on for an age, each woman occasionally getting the upper hand, but then having the other push them back once again. When the moon rose high enough to be overhead, and when the dark of night finally closed around them, the queen jumped back and thrust her hand forward. Joyce was suddenly flung back as if hit by something large and fast. She landed on the ground around ten feet away, thoroughly winded. She struggled to sit up, making wheezing noises as she did, clutching at her side, which was bursting with sharp pain. "Enough!" the queen cried. "This has gone on long enough," she panted, glaring at the girl a little ways before her. "I will end this now," she snarled. The hand that was still stretched before her began to glow a noxious, poisonous green. Joyce, still trying to catch her breath, could do nothing but gape at the other woman, knowing that this really was the end. She'd never see Jack again, never see her parents, or even her raucous little brothers, who she now knew had never meant to hurt her so deeply. She closed her eyes, and tears streamed down her cheeks, as she waited for the end to come. Suddenly, there came a sound remarkably like paper being violently ripped apart, and Jack appeared before her. Joyce had only a second to notice that now he had legs, and he wore some sort of dark red trousers before he was struck by the green light that was meant to kill Joyce. Joyce screamed in horror and rushed to catch him as he fell. He landed with a thud, his head lolling in her lap, his skin pale, his dark eyes empty. Joyce cupped his cheek with her hand, a sob catching in her throat as she felt the heat already fading from his lifeless body. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, splashing onto Jack's face. "You-ou sav-v-ed meeee," Joyce blubbered. She pressed her warm lips to his cold ones, a final farewell, and then forced herself to climb painfully to her feet to face the woman responsible for Jack's needless death. Joyce found to her surprise a woman as stricken as she. But that sight lasted only a moment, for the queen's shocked expression shifted to a glare directed squarely at Joyce. "This- is- your- fault!" she croaked, angrily swiping at her tears. "That- spell- was- meant- for y-you!" Joyce didn't want to die, but knew that, this time, there was no one else to take the queen's wrath for her. She glanced down at Jack, thinking that soon they'd be reunited, and did a double take; Jack was clutching some sort of box, a box that seemed to emanate life. Without thinking, Joyce grabbed her sword and thrust it into the little wooden box, instantly breaking it and piercing whatever was inside. Joyce couldn't have known that all Djinn are born with their soul outside their body, and that this box contained the queens. The queen shrieked like a wraith and exploded into green light, then was simply gone. It was over. She'd won. But yet, Joyce felt like she'd rather have lost; then, at least Jack would still be alive. She collapsed beside him and sobbed, taking one of his lifeless hands in hers. She kissed the palm of his hand and held it to her face. She thought for a moment that that hand warmed, that those fingers stirred. But, surely, that was naught but her imagination, and it didn't help that her sight was blurred by tears. But then those fingers stirred again, and Joyce thought she heard a groan. Gasping, Joyce realized that Jack was suddenly warm, warm and breathing. "Jack!" she exclaimed. She let go of his hand and slipped her arms under his back, helping him to sit up. He blinked, and his eyes came into focus, and he smiled weakly at her. "Come on, let's get you to some place warm and dry." ~ Several days had passed since the battle at the Stone Circle, and Jack had been out those several days. In that time, King Arthur had declared that, should and Guinevere not produce any heirs, she would be crowned queen. Joyce had been honored, and more than a bit flustered at this proclamation. She spent most days riding Starlight and sitting beside her beloved, caring for him and hoping he'd wake. She'd sent word home about her adventures, and had not yet received a reply, but it was a weight off of her heart to know that her parents would know what had happened to her, and that her brothers would know she forgave them. On the fifth day, Jack finally woke, looking a little scruffy but healthy. Joyce had to remind him where he was, and the memories came back slowly as he woke up. Then, he explained to her what that box was, and about the spell. "...it was a death spell, and could kill a Djinn even if his or her soul wasn't present." Joyce gasped. "But- but how did you survive, then?" "I- I can't really remember, but I- I met someone on the other side, someone important, someone who told me I could have another chance. That someone told me that, to do so, I'd have to give up my powers as a Djinn. Of course, I leapt at the chance; I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you behind. Then I remember seeing you and... nothing until now," Jack said, sitting up and rubbing his head. "Joyce, for all intents and purposes, I'm human now; Djinn laws no longer bind me." He gave her a blinding grin and added, "We can be married!" ~ And that was just what happened. It turned out that Arthur never did have children, and his wife ran off with Lancelot. So, according to how Arthur had set it all up, Jack and Joyce became king and queen of Far Far Away, though that happened a few years in the future. Their love was everlasting and they were always joyous in the other's company, and would have many children. Oh, and, of course they lived Happily Ever After. Edited by Queenie, Dec 7 2010, 12:46 AM.
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6:06 AM Jun 19