Fraggle fic: The Minstrel's Path

[charlietheowl]

So we meet the first minstrel! Nice to see Jago using music and food to break down the barriers between himself and Murray. Thanks for posting.

 

[Slackbot]

I guess it's obvious that this is Murray. I wasn't sure it would be. Out of curiosity, what was the tip-off?

I'd been wembling on whether to bring Murray in this early, as he doesn't seem as old as Cantus. However, I realized that Jago needs a friend right now, not years (er, many, many, many days) down the road. Let's just say that those critters age at a different rate, or they show their age differently. Whatever.

I have to confess that a little of my own personality is showing through in this chapter. I love languages. I've held onto my high school French well enough to hold a conversation or read an Asterix book (I have them all!) and I've studied Japanese on my own for years. For me it's not frustrating, it's fun. So, Jago and, er, the tarantula-like sapient are too interested in what they're doing--making the first contact between their races in living memory!--to get frustrated. Which one do you think will turn out to be the better linguist?

 

[charlietheowl]

I suspected it was him when he gestured to Jago regarding the chordophone and started playing it. Before that I really wasn't sure what kind of creature you were talking about. As for the better linguist, I would guess Murray, since Jago's colony seems to be pretty insular.

 

[The Count]

For me, the tip as to who the "tratantula" sapient was was when he said "Mai m'rray. Aou?"
Once I read that insert character by character to understand what was being said, I thought he was saying "Me Murray. You?" as if telling the strange Fraggle who we was and asking who he was in turn.

Back then, even though it was frustrating at first, since I didn't have/know about MC's original Delphi boards plus my attempted cut at ties to Hensonian productions, I didn't really have that many distractions and aced through the year and a half of French I had to take as my requisit Third Language course. Can still understand a little bit, and maybe speak it, but nowhere with the proficiency of someone fluent in that spech. Due to my monster research, I've picked up a Japanese word or two, like "onna" and "kozo" but that's practically it.

As for who'll be the better linguist. I'd have to agree and say Murray, cause he often puts what Jago says in his philosophical nature into simpler to understand words for others, like at the end of the song "Lose Your Heart".

 

[Slackbot]

You're both right. Murray's the better linguist, and will pick up Jago's language fast enough that there's not a lot of point in Jago learning his. Which is a good thing, as Jago's two languages are music and...well, whatever it is that Fraggles and everyone else in the Rock speaks. It varies from country to country. I don't think Jago could ever learn to think in a third language. Plus, it would make this fic hard to read.

You nailed Murray's like, Count. Murray's original like was "Anta m'rray. Uchi?" (As usual, I threw in some Japanese.) However, I changed it to something that might be recognizable to the alert reader--especially if he's using software that reads the post out to him --because I decided that their languages should be similar, like French and Spanish. They have a common root, and diverged over time due to isolation. Which will make Murray's task much easier.

Murray's task of translating Cantus's's's's mumbo-jumbo philosophy will also be a bit easier because, by the time of their appearance in Fraggle Rock, Murray has known Cantus for so long that he understands how he thinks. With that he can put things in plain language--usually.

It's gonna be a challenge to write dialogue for Cantus after he turns all mystical. Occasional lines, no problem. Conversations, ouch. Poor Janken must have wanted to bang his head against a stalagmite during the middle part of "A Wandering Heart."

 

[Slackbot]

Lookie lookie! Me write more!

*****

The Minstrel's Path​

Part 7​

by Kim McFarland​

​

*****​

​

Pale shapes flashed within the tumbling, foaming water. The largest fish were caught in the net that stretched across the pinch point of the underground river. Smaller ones slipped through and continued on their way. The fishing creatures, satisfied that their net was firmly secured, left it to see what the last of their number was doing.​

One of the spiderlike creatures had not been working the nets lately. Instead, he had been meeting with the Fraggle who had been coming here to play his music while they fished. M'rray, a musician himself, had overcome his fear and approached him, and found that this Fraggle was not warlike at all. He had even been learning the Fraggle's language so they could talk.

Jago was impressed with how fast M'rray had picked up his language. In a handful of meetings he had acquired enough vocabulary to hold a conversation, while Jago had only learned isolated words. So, when they spoke it was in Jago's tongue. Music, of course, needed no translation.

The fishers watched the two. M'rray was playing a guitar, and Jago a pair of small drums. They waited for a while, then one spoke a short, polysyllabic sentence. M'rray stopped and looked over, then answered similarly.

Jago watched as the two conversed. Jago thought he could make out some of it; their two languages had similar words. M'rray said that he thought that they had started out as the same language and then diverged. M'rray said to Jago, "Edrra asks a question. Days ago, Fraggles yell, run at us, make us go, leave our net. Why?"

That had been one of the first things Jago had explained to M'rray, once they had the vocabulary to tackle the subject. Obviously she wanted to ask Jago himself. Looking at Edrra, Jago said, "We were afraid. For Fraggles, unknown things are dangers. We frighten things away so they will leave us alone. We should not have done that to you. I am sorry."

M'rray relayed that statement. Edrra looked startled. She had not expected an apology. She spoke again, and M'rray translated, "You took our fish, not took our net. Why?"

"We didn't understand that you eat the fish. We only eat plants, and didn't think that people ate animals. We returned the fish to the water."

M'rray paused, thinking about how to phrase that to avoid the obvious implication: Fraggles thought that only animals ate meat. He spoke carefully. Edrra looked hard at Jago, then nodded in grudging acceptance. She answered. M'rray said, "You will tell Fraggles not bother us. We will not bother you."

"I will."

Edrra nodded, then spoke to M'rray for a minute before turning to go haul in the net. M'rray said to Jago, "She said, good you came alone with music. We are ready then to fight Fraggles, but you alone, not dangerous, not need fight."

Jago thought, he had, without realizing what he was doing, averted a crisis with his music. He had only meant to show them that Fraggles were not crazy and warlike. He couldn't speak to them at first, but music went past the barriers of language and custom. After he and M'rray had played music together, they no longer seemed alien to each other.

A shout drew M'rray's attention. He glanced at the others who were hauling the net out of the water. They were working hard; the net was heavy with a big catch. M'rray said, "I go help," and got up.

Jago paused, then set his drums aside. The other creatures watched, shocked, as he went to the side opposite the one M'rray joined. He had watched them pull out the net enough times. They chanted to set the rhythm, and hauled on every third beat. He hauled with them.

The net was full of flapping fish. Jago stepped back while they quickly went through their catch, placing the big ones in bags of a strange, stiff material and throwing the small ones back into the river to continue their lives.

*

Soon the sorting was done. The creatures were picking up to leave. Jago said to M'rray, "Come, visit my home."

M'rray looked at him in surprise. "To Fraggles home?"

"Yes. I'd like my people to meet you, the way I met your people."

M'rray dithered. He had not expected such an invitation. He hadn't really wanted to visit a Fraggle tribe… but what Jago said made sense. Those who had seen Jago realized that he was no enemy, he was a person. If the Fraggles met him, hopefully they'd realize the same thing. He sure wouldn't mind not worrying about being run off again while catching dinner. He answered, "Yes." Then he spoke to the others of the group. They were also surprised. Not upset, however.

Jago and M'rray gathered up their instruments as the others carried their catch away. M'rray said in a tone of amusement, "They say I am…" He searched for a word, then tapped the side of his head and crossed his eyes. "My head is not right."

Jago laughed. "Crazy."

"Crazy," M'rray agreed, grinning.

They started down the passage leading up to the Fraggles' colony. As soon as they emerged from the steep upward tunnel they heard soft, distant music. Jago stopped. He had not heard this in handfuls of days. Why was it playing now?

M'rray, seeing Jago's surprise, said, "Fraggles music?"

"No. Come." He beckoned, and followed the sound. He did not bother to mark his path. Though he was not familiar with these tunnels, he knew their destination. M'rray followed.

*

The tune summoned them to a large cave. It was surprisingly well lit for a cave this far from a colony. Most of the stone was covered with living things. One sloping wall was a thick tangle of vines. Ferns and grasses and flowers grew wherever they could take root, and mosses covered the space left over. It was a safe, warm, green chamber dotted with splashes of color in the form of blooming flowers.

The music was coming from the vines. Projecting from the mass of foliage was a stick that turned into a double spiral, one branch twining around another. It ended, not in a tapering twig or a burst of leaves, but in the bells of a musical horn.

"What is this?" M'rray asked in a low voice.

"It is magic. Let's listen."

The two sat on a softly mossy boulder. The horn played to them. M'rray listened in wonder. Jago did not think; all he was aware of was the music. The first time he had seen the horn he had refused to claim it. Since then, he had occasionally heard its music in the caves, as if it was calling to him, and came to listen to it. Each time it had been a little bigger, its sound richer. It was growing.

M'rray looked at the ivy. He could see no sign of someone underneath playing the horn. But why would anyone hide under a bunch of vines, making music in case wanderers came by? It was easier to believe that this was magic. The world was full of it. Magic lit the caves; magic made new living things appear; magic opened caves when they were needed and vanish when their role was done. Magic was part of the background of their lives, and they accepted it unquestioningly.

He glanced at Jago. The Fraggle was sitting perfectly still except for his slow breathing, It was as if he had dozen off at attention.

The song of the horn trailed away into silence. A voice said, "Have you come for the pipe?"

M'rray looked around. He hadn't heard anyone enter, and he saw nobody now. Jago opened his eyes, unperturbed, and said, "We came to listen."

"Now the pipe can only sing its own song. It must join with one who will travel far to learn more."

"If I join with it, what will it take of me?" Jago asked.

"Your life."

Jago had expected that answer. "And what will it give me in return?"

"Your life."

Jago nodded. He had refused the original offer immediately, thinking that if he accepted the horn he would die. But that would be senseless. There had to be more to it than that. He asked, "What kind of life?"

"Your life will flow through the horn, and it will give you its magic. It was made to unite the rock with music. Will you give it your life so it can give you your mission?"

If he accepted the horn, he would be agreeing to travel with it, playing music in far distant caves. There were people far away… the thought did not surprise him, but it had never occurred to him to wonder about them before.

To leave his home, with music as his companion and message. To have a message, to have a purpose. To do more than make pretty sounds. To perhaps even change the world for the better, or at least to try. How could he refuse such an offer?

M'rray watched with apprehension as Jago walked to the ivy, reached up, and took the pipe. With a soft snap it broke off its stem, like a ripe fruit. The voice said, "Play your song."

His song? He had never thought of any song as being his, but there was one that he had known as long as he could remember. Nobody else sang or played it. He raised the horn, took a breath, and began to play.

The sound of the horn was bright and clear as flowing water. M'rray thought, this was the sound of music distilled, the sound you heard in your head before you picked up an instrument to translate that tune for the rest of the world. He felt an urge to take out his guitar, but he did not. Then he noticed the vines beyond Jago. The leaves were twitching as if reaching out, and here and there orange flowers were appearing. One by one they bloomed, showing yellow zigzag patterns on their petals.

When the song was finished Jago lowered the pipe. The voice said, "Look at your left hand."

Jago did. There was a glowing mark, a zigzag like those on the flowers. As he watched it faded.

"That is the mark of the pipe. It is yours. It always has been. Now go."

"I will," Jago said. He slung the bag with his drums over one shoulder. M'rray picked up his guitar. Jago began to play as he walked.

After a few minutes M'rray said, "You mind?"

Jago stopped playing and glanced at him. M'rray was holding his guitar, ready to play. Jago smiled and said, "Please do."

Jago resumed his tune, and M'rray joined in. Together they walked on toward the Fraggle colony.

*****

Fraggle Rock and Jago and M'rray (under their real names) are copyright © The Jim Henson Company and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. The overall story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.

 

[charlietheowl]

Oooh! I like how Jago is realizing that music is able to break down the barriers that were standing between the different species around his colony. I also like the image of the plants growing and blooming as the music plays, it's very pretty.

Thanks for posting!

 

[The Count]

So taken the pipe he has, good, his destiny will he follow now.

Also, I like that this happened when Mrray decided to accept Jago's invitation of going with him to visit Jago's Fraggle colony. For some reason, I have this thought that after he took the pipe when Mrray wanted to join in with his guitar, that this leads to the shortened form of Let Me Be Your Song sung between just the two of them. But we're getting way ahead of ourselves. Hope to read more as to however you continue the minstrel's paths.

 

[Slackbot]

Flowers often bloom when Cantus plays; I couldn't resist the imagery, foreshadowing what is to come. I like to imagine that Ditzies are also attracted to his music, so when he walks the dark tunnels he seems to carry an unearthly glow along.

The song he was playing was indeed the tune for Let Be Be Your Song. He's had that tune for a long time; he used it in the first chapter. However, he doesn't have the final lyrics yet...

Regarding Cantus's's's destiny, well, I'm gonna be really pretentious and quote one of my own fanfics: More Power, More Problems, a He-Man fic. Adam tells Orko that he regrets having accepted the Sword of Power and becoming He-Man; he doesn't feel equal to the task. Orko's reply...

"...I used to believe destiny was neat because it made you special. Like it was a prize. But now it's more like someone says that there's something that needs to be done, and it's gonna be a hard, crummy job, and you're stuck with it." He pointed at Adam as if accusing him. "Ya can't even flake out of it, because no matter what you do it'll pull you right back in."

Oh, and I drew Jago. That pic is from the second chapter, when he's playing his chordophone recital.

 

[Slackbot]

The Minstrel's Path​

Part 8​

by Kim McFarland​

*****

Jago was still playing the Magic Pipe, and M'rray his guitar, when they arrived at the Fraggle colony. Curious Fraggles, summoned by the unearthly melody, stared in shock at the weird creature who was walking beside Jago.

M'rray hid his nervousness as best he could. Jago was all right, but the other Fraggles…if they ganged up on him, he'd have to run fast. He fervently hoped that Jago knew what he was doing.

Jago went to a large, mushroom-like stone formation at the center of the Deep Gallery. Only then did he lower the pipe. Many Fraggles had come, and were staring at the two musicians. Jago said, "I have brought a guest to our caves. This is Murray. His people use the same river we get knife stones from." M'rray gave a little wave.

People seemed content to come close—but not too close—and stare, so Jago began playing his horn again. M'rray started back up on his guitar. The people didn't seem hostile, he thought, but they were still looking at him as if he was some sort of beast.

Normally when a Fraggle started playing music in the Deep Gallery others joined in. There was a tongue-in-cheek saying that the only thing more contagious than a song was pebble pox. However, this time it didn't happen. Jago continued playing as if he didn't notice.

Then he heard the sound of a flute. Both Jago and M'rray glanced up. Other Fraggles looked over in surprise. Striding through the throng was the Tunesmith, Jago's erstwhile teacher, playing his bamboo flute. The musician walked to Jago and M'rray and sat by them, joining their tune.

After a little while the other Fraggles, seeing that nothing bizarre was about to occur, began to relax. Some wandered away. Sensing that he no longer needed to keep the situation under control with music, Jago brought the song to its coda. For a few moments there was quiet, as everyone was waiting for someone else to speak.

Finally a young Fraggle pointed at M'rray and piped up, "What is it?"

"His name is Murray," Jago said.

"Hi," M'rray said.

The little Fraggle shied back a little when she heard the creature speak. But she was young enough not to know to stay afraid of someone who didn't seem scary. She said, "Are you a monster?"

"I'm not monster. I'm Pisca."

"What's a Pisca?"

"I," M'rray said, grinning. The little Fraggle didn't get the joke. He said, "People like me, we live in caves near, down deeper, near fast river."

"Oh," said the little Fraggle. She had to think about this statement, put in the missing words, to figure out what he meant. "You talk funny."

M'rray smiled wryly and shrugged. "I just begin. I learn."

Jago said, "He has only been talking to me for several handfuls of days. It takes most Fraggles years to learn to speak."

"Oh," she replied, very seriously. Then she said "Bye," and scampered off.

"Kids is same everywhere," M'rray observed.

Jago said to their audience, "When we first met his people, we were afraid of them, and chased them away. But when I went to meet them alone I found that they are not so different from us. We could not speak together at first, so we communicated through music. The same music that is all around us—in the rushing of water, in the sounds the creatures of the cave make—binding us all together. If we listen, we can understand it."

The other Fraggles began to lose interest. Jago was a good Fraggle and a wonderful musician, but he had notions that could be called, at best, strange. He claimed that music was in everything. He heard it where nobody else did. He wasn't exactly pushy about his odd philosophy; he never demanded that others agree with him. But he wouldn't give it a rest, even though nobody else was interested. So when he started rambling they simply tuned him out.

The Tunesmith closed his eyes. It had been going so well.

*

Soon after the music was over, people wandered away. It was ever thus. It was all so simple, so self-evident to Jago; why couldn't anyone else, not even one, see it?

The Tunesmith put a sympathetic hand on Jago's shoulder. Jago told him, "I thought this time it'd be different. Music bridged the gulf between our people and Murray's. I've proven it! Why won't they listen?"

The Tunesmith replied in a low voice, "They have listened. And they decided long ago they don't believe. Jago, what you've done is good, making friends with one of these Pisca and teaching him to speak. You've done something that nobody else thought possible. But as for the rest of it…you believe what you decide to believe, and others will do the same."

"I understand," Jago said quietly.

The Tunesmith patted Jago's shoulder again, then got up and left.

Jago looked down at the magic pipe for a long minute. Then he said to M'rray, "Let's go."

They got up, and Jago led M'rray out of the Deep Gallery.

*

Jago led M'rray to the small room that he lived in. He had few possessions; his bedding and several other musical instruments made up the bulk of it. The rest was unimportant. Jago said, "I promised to travel with the pipe. I have nothing more to learn here. There is no point in staying."

"You leave this home? Where to go?" M'rray asked.

"I don't know. I'll find out when I get there. The point is to learn new songs, isn't it?" He calmly rolled his bedding up and placed the smallest of his instruments in the pockets of his vest. He tied his bedding with twine, then attached a canteen to that.

"Alone Fraggle walk in deep caves. Not safe," M'rray said uneasily.

"I believe this pipe will protect me," Jago said calmly.

M'rray shook his head. Running away from home? He didn't know the words to tell Jago that that was silly and childish. But then, he thought, it was a good thing he couldn't say that yet, because it wasn't true. Jago didn't think the same way that the other Fraggles here did. He was willing to talk to other people rather than chasing them away. He wasn't a fool.

Jago lifted the improvised pack to his shoulders, slipped his arms through twine loops, and settled it comfortably onto his back. He took a last look around the room, then said to M'rray, "Let's go."

*

Jago led M'rray back through the Deep Gallery. En route he found Tunesmith again. Tunesmith noticed his pack and said conversationally, "Where are you going now?"

"Out there," Jago said, gesturing at the passage that led to the deeper caves. "Tunesmith, I have learned much from you. Without that I would not have become what I am. Thank you."

Concerned, the Tunesmith said, "Jago, what are you going to do?"

"I made a promise. I am going to travel through the rock, learning its songs."

"Who did you make this promise to?" He glanced suspiciously at M'rray.

Jago showed him the pipe. "I made a promise to the one who made this magic pipe for me. Promises must be fulfilled." He met Tunesmith's eyes. "Furthermore, I want to," he said firmly.

Tunesmith wanted to argue, but he didn't. Jago was an adult, and no Fraggle had the right to restrain another. Jago continued, projecting so the nearby Fraggles could hear, "When a Fraggle comes of age he may give himself a new name. I claim that right."

Tunesmith knew the response; he had taken part in this ritual many times. "Who are you?"

Jago told him, "I will be the song I sing. I am Cantus."

"Welcome, Cantus," said The Tunesmith.

"Thank you. And now, goodbye."

Cantus turned and left, with Murray following. A few Fraggles he passed by greeted him by his chosen name—acknowledging his new identity, as was proper—as they said farewell.

Once out of the colony Cantus remarked to M'rray, "That was more dramatic than I intended. Ah, well."

M'rray said, "You are either brave or crazy."

Cantus smiled. "If you talked to Tunesmith—or any other Fraggle—they'd tell you that I'm harmlessly crazy. As for brave…I'm just brave enough to have faith."

"Faith?" M'rray questioned.

"I believe. Even though what I believe seems strange, I still believe. I believe that there are people out there that I have never heard of, and that I can learn their songs and teach them mine." He nodded back to where the Magic Pipe rested on top of his pack, threaded through the twine. "I am not leaving because of my promise to travel with the pipe. I promised because I realized that was what I wanted to do."

M'rray gave him a long look. Then he grinned and said, "Brave and crazy."

Cantus laughed. "We'll see."

*****

Fraggle Rock, Cantus, and Murray are copyright © The Jim Henson Company and are used without permission but with much respect and affection. Tunesmith and the overall story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com). Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.