Doug the not narrator, I’ve tried to chop out as many passages by Lu as possible and still leave a coherent story, but Rose still has to come through these chapters and revise. There will be a version 3 eventually.

  “Does a character have free will?”

  “Well, you’re up early. Are you here to have me ravished without consent? Good morning, Juliet. And for your information, I only briefly considered having the butcher ravish you. Then I decided instead I’d give you just what you have been asking for.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?”

  “I decide, Juliet, to marry you off. I can’t get you to change your mind about Damon ravishing before marriage. I’ve failed, so I decided to marry you off.”

  “No, no, you can't. I don't love Damon; he’s too full of himself. Besides, after he ravishes me, how long do you suppose before he’s off to ravish some other 16-year-old unravished beauty? I’ll bet you the ink won’t be dry on the paper. Men like him think women can only be ravished once. If you want to see ravishing, make him the main character. I’ll bet he ravishes the whole town before the end of the chapter.”

  “No, I’m not going to do that. I was going to marry you off to the preacher; then you’d never be ravished, and it’d serve you right.”

  “No, please don’t! I can’t stomach that man. Christ, he goes on and on, always about women obeying their husbands, and if they don’t, the fiery pits of hell await you. Well, give me the fiery pits because he is insufferable. I’m not a believer anyways.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, Juliet, why all the ‘not till after marriage’ lines you’ve been feeding me?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Listen, I’ve put up with a lot of guff from you. You're my character, and if you don’t talk to me, I really will marry you off to the preacher. Now, out with it.”

  “Nice choice of words, Rose.”

  “What? I don’t understand what you are talking about.”

  “I know, Rose, you don’t know me, and you are just trying to force your ideas and desires onto me.”

  “Well, I can’t know you when I ask you a question and you say, ‘I’d rather not say,’ now can I?”

  “Fine, I have feelings for someone. Love, I think. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not entirely sure myself.”

  “Well, that’s great! Why didn’t you tell me? I could have had you ravishing them.”

  “Well, we have kissed and stuff, but we haven’t ravished all the way yet.”

  “I’m so happy for you! Who is he? Is he one of my characters, or did he just wander in?”

  “They just wandered in, but can you give me just one more day to sort my feelings? I promise tomorrow I’ll tell you the whole thing.”

  “As long as you promise you won’t go getting completely ravished off the page, okay?”

  “I promise, Rose.”

  “Good, then we’ll leave that till tomorrow. But Rose, you never said why you were up so early today.”

  “I injured my knee in the forest, and I was attacked by wolves.”

  “Wolves? Wolves? Oh my god, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. This beautiful woman, she rescued me, cleaned my wound, and put herself in between me and the wolves, and then she carried me home.”

  “Wow, she sounds amazing.”

  “She is amazing and a bard and knows all about the woods and is so tall and beautiful.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, I know. Well, I have to get to…”

  “Rosie!”

  “Coming, Ma!”

  “Wait, before you go, what did your mother say about all of this?”

  “I didn’t tell her; I didn’t want her to worry.”

  “How’s the novel going today, Rosie?”

  “I’m pretty sure I might have made a breakthrough today. I got to know my main character a little better, I think.”

  “Oh, that’s so nice, dear. Here’s the cookies for Grannie.”

  “Thanks, Ma. See you later.”

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  [Leave, Adversity]

  “Is this where I face my troubles?"

  I head to the woods. I doubt Rosie will be going to Granny's, but I'm still going to deliver some string beans. I got another good buy in the market. I head to the path and I'm at Rose's grandmother's before I know it. I leave the basket of string beans on the doorstep, knock lightly, then do my security check around the house. Everything looks good. I head back down the path, and when I'm halfway, decide I'll just stay here.

  I need to work on some lyrics. The only thing new I've heard that the other bards aren't singing is that dirty limerick about Tinkerbell and the lost boys, but I won't be singing that. With my red hair and pale complexion, my face turns beet red and feels like it's on fire when I get embarrassed. The only other story I've heard recently is about that baker in Wyldwood who's giving away free magic. So let's see, baker, faker, taker, raker, waker, maker. This one is easy—lots of rhymes.

  "There was a maker In Wyldwood The maker was a Baker Wood, could, should Who should"

  This is terrible. I've been here an hour and I don't even think that "wood" and "should" really rhyme.

  "No, they really don't rhyme. How about this instead?"

  "There was a maker

  Who in Wildwood Lives

  The maker was a Baker

  Who Gives and Gives and Gives

  The baker was no Faker

  Her Magic cures the hives"

  "Lu, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your work."

  "No, I was so engrossed with my terrible lyrics I didn't even hear you coming. I worked for an hour or two, and you came up with a lovely lyric in like two minutes. You are amazing. Rose."

  "Well, I do spend a large amount of time writing, but prose, not poetry or lyrics. But I do love poetry. Here's another stanza."

  "The maker was a baker

  With Cures for all the Wives"

  "Rose, you are a genius. I might quit being a bard."

  "No Lu, you can't quit. Why don't you play your lute and sing your new lyrics? See how they sound to your ear."

  "There is a Maker Who in Wildwood Lives

  The Maker was a Baker Who Gives and Gives and Gives

  The Baker was no Faker Her magic cures the Hives

  The Maker was a Baker With Cures for All the Wives"

  "There, now you have a new song, so you can't quit. Who cares if it rhymes? I'll bet in the future they'll be poetry and lyrics that don't rhyme."

  "The other bards make fun of me because I can't rhyme and said I had a stone in my head in place of a brain."

  "Next time tell them, 'I'd rather have a stone for a brain than a stone for a heart,' because it's better to be hard-headed than hard-hearted."

  "You really are a genius," and without thinking, I jumped up and went over and hugged her tight. When I realized what I'd done, I jumped back and apologized.

  "Oh, it's okay. It was quite nice being hugged, and helping you a tiny bit is nothing compared to what you did for me yesterday. You saved my life."

  "Oh, it was nothing. I'm just glad I was there to help."

  "Are you headed to your grandmother's?"

  "Yes, I have food for her. My ma bakes for her every day."

  "Could I walk with you?"

  "Only if you play your new song for me. I'm quite keen to hear it again. The lyrics are alright, but it comes alive when you sing it—that's the magical bit. Promise you won't quit being a bard."

  "I won't. I was just feeling sorry for myself, but you cured me. And I'll sing for you, but as we're walking to Granny's, how about one from the histories of old by a dear old professor? It's made just for walking."

  "The Road goes ever on and on

  Down from the door where it began.

  Now far ahead the Road has gone,

  And I must follow if I can,

  Pursuing it with eager feet,

  Until it joins some larger way

  Where many paths and errands meet.

  And whither then? I cannot say"

  "Oh Lu, I love that. That's from the histories of old."

  "Yes, as chronicled by Professor Tolkien. He was a great walker as well as a great man, and he was involved in a great war. See, everything about him was great. Anyways, while in this war, he was stuck in a pit or a trench. The fairies weren't clear on that point. Well, the professor was really suffering in that war, as people do in any war. But the professor was a favorite of Faerie, and every night the Fey would appear and tell him dark and dread tales about wizards who battled and hurt both humans and elves. So when the war was ended and he got back home, he wrote down all the tales the Fey had spoken and bound them in a great Red Book. And the next time a fairy visited him, he gave them the Red Book and asked that it be presented to Oberon and Titania. They were so taken with the book and the spirit it was given that they made a deal with Death herself that when the professor passed away, instead of bringing him to the regular place for humans, that she bring him here to Emain Ablach. He lives in Quintessence. He's a wizard here, though a man on earth, and I hear he still writes the odd bit of verse."

  I walked with her, singing on the way to Granny's, practiced my new song, and sang that as I walked her home. It was a beautiful day in Tranquility.

  [Leave, Physical]

  “Is there a contest every night at the Black Dog?" While "battle of the bards" is my least favorite night, tonight is my absolute favorite contest—the arm wrestling tournament. Because I won last week, and the week before, and the... you get the idea. I've never lost, so I don't have to participate in the first round. I jumped in during the second round. Twelve rounds later, it was over, and my undefeated streak remained. After the arm wrestling, I debut my new songs to great cheers, clapping, and, more importantly, tips. Rose is no doubt the most beautiful person in Emain Ablach, but I think she may be the smartest person I've ever met. She's changed my life for the better.

  After the tavern closes, I go to my room in the stables. At first, the horses were skittish around me. I think it's the scent, but a steady supply of apples can make even the most skittish horse a steady friend. I hope I dream of her tonight.