Status: Has been on Hiatus due to the huge rush of uni life, but now first year is over, I'm going to do my best to give you lovelies the ending you deserve! =)
Diary of a Reluctant Ruler
Pig Latin
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Where have you been?” Olly asked, bursting into my room Wednesday morning.
I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, sitting up rather dazed.
“Waz’up wiv you?” I asked, sleepily.
This seems oddly familiar...
No, no, no!!!
Wow, déjà vu!
“Phil!”
“Had Parliament Monday, then lessons all Tuesday- I saw you at dinner.”
“Well, skip some lessons!”
“But-”
“I’ve got to leave tomorrow,” Olly said.
“What?” I cried, jumping up, “I thought you had until next week?”
“Sorry, but my application for student accommodation fell through because we earn too much, so we have to go find a flat or something.”
“Oh,” I said, slipping into some clothes, “Well, I suppose that’s kind of cool. You living on your own…”
“Might have a flat-mate.”
“Ooo…” I hissed, mock-jealous.
“Might be a guy,” she teased.
“Play it cool, Olly.”
“Will do. So can you skip today?”
“I’ll talk to Marie.”
“Who’s Marie?”
“My language tutor.”
“Cool, what are you learning now?”
“Pig-Latin.”
“Really?!” Olly asked, amazed.
“Yup, I persuaded her to give me a break for a bit.”
“Can I come?”
“Why?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“I’ve always wanted to learn Pig-Latin,” Olly enthused.
“Sure, if you really want to.”
“Yay!”
With a way over-enthusiastic Olly, I trudged downstairs to the suite of rooms used for mine and Felix’s lessons when we weren’t at boarding school. I’d slept in late, so breakfast was off the menu.
“Arabic, egyptian,” Marie said, when I entered the room.
“Sabaah el kheer,” I said after a moment’s wracking of the brain.
Good morning.
“Sabaah el nuur,” Marie answered, “Izzayik?”
Good morning [reply]. How are you? [to female]
“Kwaysa ilHamdu lillah. Akhbaraak eh?”
Well [equivalent]. How are you? [different]
“Kwaysa ilHamdu lillah, shukran.”
Well., Thank you.
“Um, this is Olly,” I said, not able to continue in Arabic, “She was intrigued by Pig-Latin.”
Why do you get to do all the translations?!
Because... I'm special.
Right...
“Nice to meet you Olly,” Marie said, sitting down on a desk.
“Amesay otay ouyay,” Olly struggled.
Same to you.
“Ellway oneday,” Marie laughed.
Well done.
“Eredithmay erewhay isway ouryay otherbray odaytay?”
Meredith, where is your brother today?
“Oh, he’s gone into town with-”
“Igpay atinlay?”
Pig Latin?
“Orrysay. E'shay onegay intoway owntay ithway adday otay uybay tuffsay orfay choolsay.”
Sorry. He’s gone into town with dad to buy stuff for school.
“Hanktay ouyay.”
Thank you.
“That’s just…” Olly said, “That’s just…”
“Hatway?” Marie asked.
What?
“Crazy,” Olly said, “How’d you get so good?”
“Practice,” Marie said, “My sister and I used to speak it together when we were little.”
“Wow.”
“You know the basic principle?” Marie asked, as Olly sat down across from her.
“Yup.”
“Well, it’s simply practice. When there’s a vowel at the front of the word, you simply add ‘way’ to the end, other times simply?”
“Move the first letter to the back and add ‘ay’.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Oolcay!”
Cool!
“Eryvay.”
Very.
Marie let us out early, because Olly explained in very precise pig latin that;
“I'mway eavinglay omorrowtay andway on'tway eesay Ilphay untilway
Istmaschray.”
I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t see Phil until Christmas.
Madeleine packed us a picnic and we set off across the palace gardens and into the estate. Under a large oak, we ate and talked, then paddled in the nearby stream, and generally reverted to being little girls. We missed dinner, trudging back into the palace just as it began to get dark - an incredible feat when you consider that dusk is currently around 10pm and we left at about 11am.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Where have you been?” Olly asked, bursting into my room Wednesday morning.
I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, sitting up rather dazed.
“Waz’up wiv you?” I asked, sleepily.
This seems oddly familiar...
No, no, no!!!
Wow, déjà vu!
“Phil!”
“Had Parliament Monday, then lessons all Tuesday- I saw you at dinner.”
“Well, skip some lessons!”
“But-”
“I’ve got to leave tomorrow,” Olly said.
“What?” I cried, jumping up, “I thought you had until next week?”
“Sorry, but my application for student accommodation fell through because we earn too much, so we have to go find a flat or something.”
“Oh,” I said, slipping into some clothes, “Well, I suppose that’s kind of cool. You living on your own…”
“Might have a flat-mate.”
“Ooo…” I hissed, mock-jealous.
“Might be a guy,” she teased.
“Play it cool, Olly.”
“Will do. So can you skip today?”
“I’ll talk to Marie.”
“Who’s Marie?”
“My language tutor.”
“Cool, what are you learning now?”
“Pig-Latin.”
“Really?!” Olly asked, amazed.
“Yup, I persuaded her to give me a break for a bit.”
“Can I come?”
“Why?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“I’ve always wanted to learn Pig-Latin,” Olly enthused.
“Sure, if you really want to.”
“Yay!”
With a way over-enthusiastic Olly, I trudged downstairs to the suite of rooms used for mine and Felix’s lessons when we weren’t at boarding school. I’d slept in late, so breakfast was off the menu.
“Arabic, egyptian,” Marie said, when I entered the room.
“Sabaah el kheer,” I said after a moment’s wracking of the brain.
Good morning.
“Sabaah el nuur,” Marie answered, “Izzayik?”
Good morning [reply]. How are you? [to female]
“Kwaysa ilHamdu lillah. Akhbaraak eh?”
Well [equivalent]. How are you? [different]
“Kwaysa ilHamdu lillah, shukran.”
Well., Thank you.
“Um, this is Olly,” I said, not able to continue in Arabic, “She was intrigued by Pig-Latin.”
Why do you get to do all the translations?!
Because... I'm special.
Right...
“Nice to meet you Olly,” Marie said, sitting down on a desk.
“Amesay otay ouyay,” Olly struggled.
Same to you.
“Ellway oneday,” Marie laughed.
Well done.
“Eredithmay erewhay isway ouryay otherbray odaytay?”
Meredith, where is your brother today?
“Oh, he’s gone into town with-”
“Igpay atinlay?”
Pig Latin?
“Orrysay. E'shay onegay intoway owntay ithway adday otay uybay tuffsay orfay choolsay.”
Sorry. He’s gone into town with dad to buy stuff for school.
“Hanktay ouyay.”
Thank you.
“That’s just…” Olly said, “That’s just…”
“Hatway?” Marie asked.
What?
“Crazy,” Olly said, “How’d you get so good?”
“Practice,” Marie said, “My sister and I used to speak it together when we were little.”
“Wow.”
“You know the basic principle?” Marie asked, as Olly sat down across from her.
“Yup.”
“Well, it’s simply practice. When there’s a vowel at the front of the word, you simply add ‘way’ to the end, other times simply?”
“Move the first letter to the back and add ‘ay’.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Oolcay!”
Cool!
“Eryvay.”
Very.
Marie let us out early, because Olly explained in very precise pig latin that;
“I'mway eavinglay omorrowtay andway on'tway eesay Ilphay untilway
Istmaschray.”
I’m leaving tomorrow and won’t see Phil until Christmas.
Madeleine packed us a picnic and we set off across the palace gardens and into the estate. Under a large oak, we ate and talked, then paddled in the nearby stream, and generally reverted to being little girls. We missed dinner, trudging back into the palace just as it began to get dark - an incredible feat when you consider that dusk is currently around 10pm and we left at about 11am.
♠ ♠ ♠
Don't you think the first sentence is appropriate?!Sorry I've missed 2 update spots people (particularly queenofswords24 who left a comment about it!). We're in the last week of rehearsals before we start our week-long run of the school production- Oliver!- so I've been rehearsing everyday for the last week. This is my first day off! I'll try and update as I can.
Hi to CupidsCrush who has such a cute avatar! Thanks for the new-reader-ness!
Oh, and this is for the aformentioned and claire13138 who don't know what a glockenspiel is!
Also called orchestra bells, the glockenspiel resembles a small xylophone, but it is made of steel bars. The glockenspiel is typically played with wooden or plastic mallets, producing a high tuned sound that is bright and penetrating. The name glockenspiel comes from the German language and means "to play the bells."
WE HIT SIX STARS!!!
Ivy, xXGreyWingsXx (c) 2008