這次我翻譯的是:

Why Will hates ducks?

為什麼威爾會討厭鴨子?

這篇文章來自作者的網站呦~我以後也會不定期的po一些像這樣的小短篇翻譯

希望大家喜歡^_^也歡迎在底下留言及討論

Takes place at the beginning of Chapter Nine of Clockwork Angel, “The Conclave”

這個故事開始的時間在機械天使的第九章一開始:「圓環會」

也就是大概在泰莎他們去找奈特之前的事。

Will kicked his heels against the legs of the library table. If Charlotte were there, she would have told him to stop damaging the furniture, though half the furniture in the library already bore the marks of years of abuse — chips in the pillars where he and Jem had been practicing swordplay outside the training room, scuffed shoe-prints on the windowseats where he’d sat for hours reading. Books with turned-down pages and broken spines, fingerprints on the walls.

Of course if Charlotte were there, they wouldn’t be doing what they were currently doing, either, which was watching Tessa Change form from herself to Camille and back again.  Jem sat beside Will on the library table, occasionally calling out encouragement or advice. Will, leaning back on his hands with an apple he had stolen from the kitchen beside him, was pretending to be barely paying attention.

But paying attention he was. Tessa was pacing up and down the room, her hands clenched at her sides in concentration. It was fascinating to watch her Change: there was a ripple, as of the smooth water of a pond disturbed by a thrown pebble, and her dark hair would thread through with blond, her body curving and changing in such a way that Will found it impossible to pull his eyes away. It was not usually considered polite to stare at a lady in such a direct way, and yet he was glad of the chance . . .

He was, wasn’t he? He blinked his eyes as if meaning to clear his head. Camille was beautiful — one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. But her beauty left him cold. It was, as he had said to Jem, like a dead flower pressed under glass. If his heart was beating hard and his gaze was caught, it was by Tessa herself. He told himself it was the fascination of such unusual magic, not the rather adorable scowl that twisted her features when she had difficulty capturing Camille’s gliding walk — or the way her dress slipped away from her collarbones and down her shoulder when she turned back into herself, or the way her dark hair, coming unpinned, clung to her cheeks and neck as she shook her head in frustration —

He picked up the apple by his side and began ostentatiously polishing it on his shirtfront, hoping it would hide the sudden shaking in his hands. Feelings for Tessa Gray were not acceptable. Feelings for anyone were dangerous, but feelings for a girl who was actually living in the Institute — someone who had become an intricate part of their plans, who he could not avoid — were especially so.

He knew what he had to do in such a circumstance. Drive her away; hurt her; make her hate him. And yet everything in him rebelled against the idea. It was because she was alone, vulnerable, he told himself. It would be such a great cruelty to do it . . .

She stopped where she was, throwing her arms up, and making a noise of frustration. “I simply cannot walk in that manner!” she exclaimed. “The way Camille simply seems to glide . . .”

 “You point your feet out too much when you walk,” Will said, though it wasn’t strictly true. It was as cruel as he felt he could be, and Tessa rewarded him with a sharp look of reproof.. “Camille walks delicately. Like a faun in the woods. Not like a duck.”

 “I do not walk like a duck.”

 “I like ducks,” Jem said. “Especially the ones in Hyde Park.” He grinned sideways at Will, and Will knew what he was remembering: he was remembering the same thing. “Remember when you tried to convince me to feed a poultry pie to the mallards in the park to see if you could breed a race of cannibal ducks?”

He felt Jem shake with laughter beside him. What Jem did not know was that Will’s feelings about ducks — and yes, he knew it was ridiculous to have complicated feelings about waterfowl, but he could not help it — were caught up with his memories of his childhood. In Wales, there had been a duck pond in front of the manor. As a child, Will had often gone out to throw bits of stale bread to the ducks. It amused him to watch them quacking and fighting over the remains of his breakfast toast. Or it did, until one of the ducks — a particularly large mallard – upon realizing that Will had no more bread in his pockets, raced at the boy and bit him sharply on the finger.

Will had only been six years old, and had retreated posthaste to the house, where Ella, already eight and immeasurably superior, had burst out laughing at his story and then bandaged up his finger. Will would have thought no more about it had it not been that on the next morning, upon leaving the house through the kitchen door, meaning to play the back garden, he had been arrested by the sight of the same black mallard, its beady eyes fixed on him. Before Will could move, it had darted at him and bitten him viciously on his other hand; by the time he had an opportunity to yell, the offending bird had vanished into the shrubbery.

This time, when Ella bandaged his finger, she said, “What did you do to the poor creature, Will? I’ve never heard of a duck planning revenge before.”

 “Nothing!” Will protested indignantly. “I just didn’t have any more bread for it, so it bit me.”

Ella gave him a doubting look. But that night, before Will went to bed, he drew back the curtains of his bedroom to look out on the stars — and saw, motionless in the middle of the courtyard, the small black figure of a duck, eyes fixed on his bedroom window.

His yell brought Ella running. Together they stared out the window at the duck, which appeared ready to remain there all night. Finally, Ella shook her head. “I shall manage this,” she said, and with a toss of her black braids, she stalked downstairs.

Through the window, Will saw her come out of the house. She marched up to the duck and bent down over it. For a moment, they appeared to be in intense conversation. After a few minutes, she straightened up, and the duck spun round, and with a final shake of its tailfeathers, strode out of the courtyard. Ella turned and came back inside.

When she returned to Will’s room, he was sitting on the bed and looking up at her with enormous eyes. “What did you do?”

She smiled smugly. “We came to an agreement, the duck and I.”

 “What kind of agreement?”

Ella bent down and, brushing aside his thick black curls, kissed his forehead. “Nothing you need to worry about, cariad. Go to sleep.”

Will did, and the duck never bothered him again. For years afterward he would ask Ella what she had done to get rid of the blasted thing, and she would only shake with silent laughter and say nothing. When he had fled from his house after her death, and was halfway to London, he had remembered her kissing him on the forehead — an unusual gesture for Ella, who was not as openly affectionate as Cecily, who he could never seen to detach from clinging on to his sleeves — and the memory had been like a hot knife going into him; he had curled up around the pain and cried.

Throwing poultry pies at the ducks in the park had been helpful, oddly; he had thought Ella, Ella, at first, but Jem’s laughter had blown away some of the pain of the memory, and he had only thought how glad his sister would have been to have seen him laughing there in that green space, and how he had once had people who loved him, and still did now, even if it was only one.

 “They ate it too,” Will said, taking a bite of his apple. He was practiced enough now that he knew none of what he had been thinking showed on his face. “Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.”

Tessa looked at him sideways, and for a single moment, Will had the unnerving feeling that perhaps she saw through him better than he had imagined. She was Tessa then; her eyes were gray as the sea, and for a long pause all he could do was look at her, all else forgotten — apples, vampires, ducks, and everything else in the world that was not Tessa Gray.

 “Ducks,” Jem muttered beside him, too low for Tessa to hear. “You are mad, you know that?”

Will dropped his eyes from Tessa’s. “Oh, I know.”

  威爾不耐煩地用自己的鞋跟踢了圖書館桌子的桌腳。如果夏蘿在這裡,她會告訴他停止破壞那張桌子,即便圖書館一半的桌椅都因為不當使用而有些毀損柱子上會有缺口是因為他跟杰在訓練室外練習劍術。窗台旁的位子會留下鞋印是因為他常坐在那裡花上好幾個小時來看書。那些書的內頁有摺痕還有損壞的書背,牆上還有指紋。

  如果夏蘿在這裡,他們就不會做他們現在在做的事,也就是看著泰莎把自己變身成卡蜜兒再變回來。杰坐在威爾旁邊,偶爾給予一些鼓勵或建議。威爾向後躺在自己的手上,手裡的蘋果是他從隔壁的廚房偷來的,廚房裡的人勉強的假裝沒有注意到任何事。但是他很專注。泰莎一步一步的在房裡走來走去,她因為專注而在身邊握緊自己的手。看她變身是一件很迷人的事:有一陣漣漪,就像在平靜的池塘水面丟入鵝卵石,然後她的黑髮會被金髮取代,她身體的曲線與改變的方式讓威爾發現要移開視線是非常困難的事。這麼直接的盯著一位淑女通常不是一個有禮貌的行為,但是他也因為有這樣一個機會而感到高興……

  他真的很高興,不是嗎?他眨眨自己的眼睛彷彿這麼做就可以讓頭腦清醒。卡蜜兒美豔不可方物是他見過最美的女人的其中之一。但她的美貌令人戰慄,是這樣沒錯,就像他告訴杰的一樣,向一朵被壓在玻璃下的凋零的花朵。如果他的心猛烈的跳動、他的目光被抓住,那也是因為泰莎本身。他告訴自己這是因為自己被這不尋常的的魔法迷住,而不是她在無法模仿卡蜜兒的滑行式走法時她臉上會有的可愛的皺眉也不是當她從卡蜜兒變回自己時她的裙子從鎖骨滑到肩膀的方式,更不是她沒有夾上髮夾的黑髮在她因挫折而搖頭時垂在臉頰還有脖子的方式

  他拿起在他身旁的蘋果後誇張地用自己的上衣磨亮那顆蘋果,希望這個舉動可以隱藏他突然間顫抖的的雙手。對泰莎.格雷有感覺是不能接受的。對任何人有感覺是危險的,可是對一個實際上住在學院裡的女生某個是他們複雜的計畫的一部分的人,一個他無法避開的人特別是不能有感覺的。他知道他要在這個情況下做什麼事。把她趕走;傷害她;讓她憎恨他。然而他內在的每一部分都在反抗這個想法。他告訴自己,那是因為她孤身一人而且容易受傷。這會是一件非常殘忍的事……

  她在她原本的位置停下來,她伸長自己的雙臂,發出一個挫敗的聲音。「我很明顯的沒有辦法用那種方式走路!」她大聲說。「卡蜜兒看起來像滑行的那種方法……」

  「你在路的時候過度的踮起你的腳尖,」威爾說,雖然這不是完全真實的。這跟他想要的一樣殘忍,泰莎回應他一個苛刻的眼神做為指責,「卡蜜兒起路來很優美。像樹林裡的方恩1,不是像一隻鴨子。」

  「我走起路來不像一隻鴨子。」

  「我喜歡鴨子,」杰說。「特別是海德公園裡的那些。」他從一旁對威爾露齒而笑,威爾知道他記得:他記得同樣的事情。「記得你試圖說服我去餵肉派給那些綠頭鴨是想看看你是否可以培育一群兇殘的鴨子?」

  他身邊杰因為笑而抖動身體。杰不知道的是威爾對鴨子的感覺沒錯,他知道對水禽有複雜的感覺是非常荒謬的事情,但是他無能為力因為他被小時候的記憶鉤住了。在威爾斯,在莊園前曾經有一個鴨池。身為一個小孩,威爾常常會丟一些新鮮的麵包給那些鴨子。看著那些鴨子嘎嘎叫的搶奪他早餐剩下的吐司對他來說是一件樂趣。或者不是,樂趣只到其中的一隻鴨子特別大隻的綠頭鴨了解到威爾的口袋裡已經沒有更多麵包了,追在他後面然後用力的咬了一口他的手指為止。

  那時的威爾只有六歲,跑走後回到房子裡,艾拉也在,已經八歲而且優越的無法比,對他的故事還有他手指上的繃帶而爆出一陣笑聲。要不是因為第二天早上發生的事,威爾就不會多想這件事。他從廚房的門離開房子,想在後院玩耍,他的視線停在同樣的那隻黑色綠頭鴨上,牠豆子般的眼睛緊盯著牠。在威爾可以做出動作之前,那隻鴨子朝他飛奔而來然後惡狠狠地要了他另一隻手;在他有機會可以叫出聲音時,厭煩的鴨子已經消失在灌木叢中。

  這次,當艾拉包紮他的手指時,她說:「威爾,你對那可憐的小東西做了什麼事?我以前從來沒聽過一隻鴨子會策劃要復仇。」

  「什麼都沒做!」威爾憤怒的抗議,「我只是沒有再給他更多的麵包,所以牠咬了我。」

  艾拉給了他一個充滿懷疑的眼神。但那天晚上,在威爾上床睡覺之前,他為了要看星星而拉開臥室的窗簾然後看到院子中央有個一動也不動的身影,那隻鴨子黑黑的輪廓,目光鎖定著他臥室的窗戶。

  他的嚷嚷讓艾拉跑來。他們一起瞪著那隻鴨子,鴨子似乎打算要整晚都留在那裏。最終,艾拉搖了搖她的頭。「我來處理這件事,」她說,隨著她黑色辮子的一陣搖晃,她大步走向樓梯。

    從窗戶看出去,威爾看到她走出房子。她走向那隻鴨子並在牠面前蹲下。有那麼一瞬間,他們看起來像在一個熱烈的對話中。過了幾分鐘,她站起來,那隻鴨子轉過身,搖了幾下自己的尾翎之後,大步走出院子。艾拉轉過身後回到房子裡。

  當她回到威爾的房間時,他坐在他的床上用瞪大的眼睛看著她。「你做了什麼?」。她得意的笑了。「我們達成了協議,我跟那隻鴨子。」

  「什麼樣的協議?

  艾拉蹲下,然後把他茂密的黑色捲髮撥到一旁,親吻他的額頭。「親愛的2,你不用擔心這件事。去睡覺。」威爾照做,那隻鴨子從來沒有再來打擾他。在那之後他會問艾拉做了什麼事好擺脫這件事,然而她只會無聲的笑然後說什麼都不說。他在艾拉死後逃家,在前往倫敦的中途,他記得她親了他的額頭這對艾拉來說是一個不尋常的舉動,不像對大家都溫柔親切的希西莉,一個看似無法不緊握住他袖子的人這個回憶就像炙熱的刀刃刺進他體內;當時的他在痛苦中蜷縮起來然後哭了。

  向那些在公園裡的鴨子丟肉派是有幫助的,異常地有幫助;他想起艾拉,艾拉,在一開始他會想起她,可是杰的笑聲帶走了回憶中的一些痛苦,而他想到他姐姐知道他在那塊綠地上展露笑容的話會很高興,他還會想起他曾經有愛他的人,現在依然是這樣,即便只有那一人。

  「牠們把派吃掉了」威爾說,咬了一口手上的蘋果。他的練習已經足夠到他知道他想的事情不會寫在臉上。「嗜血的小野獸,永遠不要相信一隻鴨子。」

  泰莎從旁邊看著他,有那麼一瞬間,威爾對於她看到的也許比他想像的還要多這件事有一種不安的感覺。她就是泰莎;她的灰色雙眸就有如大海,有一段時間他能做的就只有盯著她看,其他所有事都被他遺忘蘋果、吸血鬼、鴨子,還有世界上所有跟泰莎.格雷無關的事物。

  「鴨子,」在他身旁的杰咕噥,音量小到泰莎聽不到。「你應該知道你瘋了吧?

  威爾從垂下剛剛看著泰莎雙眸上的目光。「喔,我知道。」

註解:

1.方恩:羅馬神話中的半人半羊

2.親愛的:原文為cariad,是威爾斯文,有心愛的、愛的意思

 


原來,原來,他在這個時候就已經差不多喜歡上泰莎了!

迷妹持續拍手中XD......

問一下你們大家,你們下次想看威爾寫的信的內容,還是威爾跟杰在機械天使開始前的小故事?

請在下面留言呦~

 

 

 

創作者介紹

☆cronzel☆

*Mia* 發表在 痞客邦 PIXNET 留言(2) 人氣()


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  • Lorna
  • 哦哦哦我對故事裡鴨肉派那段超有印象的####
    翻譯的很辛苦吧感覺好長啊(望
    我兩個短篇都想看欸(貪心鬼妳閃啦啦xdd
    那還是杰和威爾的小故事好了♥
  • 我也是XDD
    還好啦^_^差不多40分鐘(其實我懂意思,可是要翻得很口語就很難了=3=
    哈哈XDD好的那有空就兩篇都翻譯<3

    *Mia* 於 2015/03/11 17:42 回覆

  • 小恩
  • 那麼我想看after the bridge 希望你能夠把他翻譯出來 就是前傳的結局之後的小短篇after the bridge
  • 嗯,好的~
    但是可能要花比較多時間喔^^

    *Mia* 於 2015/08/30 14:32 回覆

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