|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 21, 2010 12:27:52 GMT -5
Oh yay. Another one! Most of you have read this but I know many have not, at least not in it's entirety. So... here ya are. Enjoy.
“You MUST know marriage is not terribly high on my priority list, highness.” “You don’t have to call me that, you know. I consider you, in most everyway, a daughter. And I’d like to see you married.” Deirdre gave a little roll of her eyes, “Well, okay, father,” Sweet Lord, it was far too disturbing to address the king that way. She reminded herself to never do so again, “I still don’t think I have to get married. While you consider me such, I am not your daughter and my marriage does not hold such high significance as for Princess Julianne.” King Phil shook his head, attempting to look like the stern king she knew he could be, but never was to her. He was in a lot of ways like her father, but that would not be enough for her to step so far out of her comfort to call him such. “You are very important to see married.” The king told her, “An orphaned countess, turned King’s ward. I have no problem watching over you, as you know, but people talk.” “Their talk matters none to me. I will settle down when I wish, and it is not as though I have noblemen pining for me.” “You have never lost your noble-like stubbornness,” He chuckled, “Even growing up in that small village, anyone can tell you are noble, and rich.” He added, pointedly. “You’re also quite stunning, you realize. I think you may be second only to my daughter,” Another laugh, “You’d be surprised by the number of suitors you may get if you publicly announced your wish for one.” “But, highness, I have no wish for one! I hardly know enough about court to know who would be pursuing me! And who it is you may betroth me to!” Deirdre shuddered at the imagery of being married to some noble she’d never laid eyes on before. Not something she looked forward to, if it ever happened. At the minute, she didn’t want it to ever happen at all. “You make it sound as though I would force you into a distasteful marriage.” He replied, looking her over, “You could, of course, marry whomever you chose.” Her eyebrows rose, a hair, “Whomever I chose?” She quoted, dryly. A nod. “So… I could, say, write to Paul, and tell him my need for a husband.” She began in a grave voice and ended in laughter at the king’s startled, nearly appalled expression. “Whomever I chose.” She repeated, skeptically. Deirdre was a countess of one of the northern most sectors of King Phil’s kingdom. At the age of 8 her parents had been on the way to the Royal city in the south, taking a longer scenic route. It was then that the carriage had been attacked by bandits, leaving no one but young, frightened, Deirdre alive. It had not been long she was found by a group of village men at a nearby port town. Small and very close knit they had taken the young girl in, without a clue who she was. She grew up there for 15 or so years before a visit by the princess that she was suddenly ‘re-discovered’ by the society of nobility she hadn’t known she belonged to. Her disappearance and reappearance had caused a rather large stir in the inner circles of higher classes, especially as Phil himself had agreed to take her in as a ward. Still, she, more often than not, missed the quiet 15 years she’d spent in that smaller village. Thankfully, under ward, she was still free to travel and tried to come back as often as she could. Generally stirring gossip with other nobles. She didn’t care. Paul was one of the merchants of the tiny village, a higher job than others, but nothing remotely close to noble status. He had been kind to Deirdre as she had grown up, but then he was kind to everyone, and incredibly witty. No one could make her laugh like he could. Phil recovered relatively quickly, “Well, you say you don’t mind talk, my dear, but that, that would create a lot more than I think you know how to handle.” “That doesn’t matter. You told me whomever I chose.” “I was thinking you’d know to think of status.” Deirdre pretended to be injured, though she knew this from the start, “So at last my liege comes clean. I am not to wed the man I wish, for he is only a commoner. I shall be forever locked to some far off lord.” “You certainly know how to make things easy for me.” Her king laughed softly, knowing her dramatic teasing. “Or perhaps,” She continued, laughter returning, “I shall not marry at all! How is that for a solution – we are back to the beginning!” He grinned ruefully at her, “Your charm and wit disarms me, my daughter, I cannot win. I will not make you wed, but I will advise you to consider it.” “And I shall. Now you concentrate on Julianne. As the talk of her marriage would make mine sound like that of a commoners.” She stood up, “May I go, highness?” “You may.” He replied, kindly. But before she reached the door of the study in which they had been speaking he spoke up, “Deirdre?” “Aye?” She turned. “You weren’t seriously speaking of marrying that man from your childhood days?” She laughed, “Sweet Lord, no! He’s an old friend, charming and kind but,” She made a hand gesture to show her feelings were only friendly, “He was to prove a point, highness, that’s all.” “All right.” The king replied, and Deirdre couldn’t help but feel he looked relieved.
“owwww! Get offa me! I can take ya!” “If ye can, why do I have to get off of ya?” “’Cause yer not fightin’ fair, Keith! Now lemme go!” The two young men had been at it for the past 20 minutes, Paul thought, laughing to himself, watching them fight next to the fire. Young Damian hadn’t asked for it, so to speak, but collectively, no one could deny the lad needed a good playful rumble like he was being given there. Keith, always playing as the brother Damian had never had, had gladly taken the job. He shook his head, “Alright! Keith! You’re looking about ready to kill him! I don’t think George would be right lettin’ you in on marrying Ruth after that!” He laughed. The laughter only grew as, dumbfounded, Keith dropped his hold on the younger boy and stared at him, blonde hair hanging raggedly in his eyes. He pushed it back with a hand before asking, “Why do you think I want to marry Ruth?” “Well it isn’t as if you two aren’t always together.” He grinned, “And when you aren’t with her, ya look like you’d rather be there.” He shook his head, completely abandoning earlier fighting, “It isn’t really, well I mean… she’s lovely but I don’t think I’d love her… well, I’m not sure.” He did sound very not sure. “What about you? You and Joyce going to get married soon, or what?” There, Paul nearly turned red. Joyce was Ruth’s sister, actually the younger of the two sisters and daughters of the village’s head. She was stunning, sunny, and sweet to just about everyone on earth. Paul wasn’t sure, growing up with the same people of the village, when it was she’d stolen his heart, but it was clear she had. And it appeared everyone knew it. “Hah!” He scoffed, still, “I haven’t asked yet.” “Asked her or George?” “Neither. George I know will say yes no problem, he’d be happy to see them married to me, he’s said so.” He paused… Keith rolled his eyes, “And you think she won’t?” He asked incredulously, eyeing Paul, who was always dressed a bit nicer than some of the other men, even George, as if it answered that question. “I’m glad you have such confidence in me, but I suppose I get choked up before I can ask her. And I don’t want to talk to George before her, I don’t want him to try and talk her into it if she doesn’t want.” “You worry too much,” Damian mumbled from where he sat checking himself for any bruises or signs of broken bones, “someone who thinks this much about impressing a girl had probably impressed her already. Besides, it’s not like she has many people to choose from.” “That makes me feel much better.” He mumbled sarcastically, “Thank you.” “What? You don’t believe me?” “You’re not old enough to get it.” He stood up again, taller than Paul, who was sitting down as well, and nearly catching on Keith, “Oh do NOT give me that!” He said in complete exasperation, “I’m nearly 18 – it’s not like I’m a child!” Paul eyed him up as Keith had to him. Sweet Lord, he really was almost 18 wasn’t he? He could pass for his 20’s surely, even more so if he got a decent haircut and clothes that didn’t make him look like a beggar. He’d look quite dashing, not that he’d tell the lad that; he was getting cocky enough as was. “Right, well I’m not even sure how to explain it anyways,” He replied, “So I’m just not getting my hopes up. It’s not like with Ruth, who so loves you back.” He shot at Keith, trying to get his mind off of Joyce for a minute, which was rather hard to do. The woman had taken root in his mind and she’d be hard to shake away. “Not in love with her.” Keith shot back, rolling his eyes again. “Yet.” “Of course.” Damian rolled his eyes, “Don’t understand what is so difficult for you both.” He wouldn’t, Paul sighed. “In that case, I truly hope you have great difficulty in your love life in the distant future.” Keith mumbled and Paul laughed. “Why is it ‘distant’ future!?” The teen snapped. “Because with how you are treating all this – it will be!” Before that verbal fight could turn physical… again, Paul cut in. “Okay, okay, before one or both of you ends up dead could we move on to something else?” “Name a topic.” Keith replied. Paul shrugged, he didn’t really know, himself. Damian, however, did, “Did you hear from George?” “Did we hear what?” “The princess is doing rounds of the ports in… two days after tomorrow, I think. You know what that means?” Both men blinked. The princess coming simply meant that – the princess was coming. “What?” Keith finally asked. Damian’s face relaxed to a content grin, “Deirdre will be visiting.”
|
|
|
Post by laurenne on Feb 21, 2010 15:31:32 GMT -5
How long after the first one does this one take place? And I thought Ruth and Keith were engaged. But I absolutely love that there's a sequel. Update soon, please.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 21, 2010 16:59:38 GMT -5
Laurenne - as a matter of fact it's NOT really a sequel... it's more overlapping. This takes place a little before the events of the first. You'll see the events from the first one all occur again from a different perspective. Hope you enjoy. ^_^
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 21, 2010 23:49:29 GMT -5
because you're awesome, my lone reader. more!
Silk bothered Deirdre, a stupid feeling, but it did. She’d lived out most of her life without a touch of luxury, and then she had been dropped back into it. The uncomfortably fine texture of her silk gowns seemed to be the physical manifestation of her equally uncomfortable views on her new society. She was pondering all this as she sat in the velvet-lined carriage, across from a stunning Julianne sandwiched between two Guardsmen, and fingering the pure white gown draped around her. Really, how did a woman get a thing done in it? Oh, right, in Royal society a woman didn’t get a thing done. She sighed. “Dear Deirdre,” The princess, only a year or two her junior, asked tentatively, as it so seemed she had missed her part of the conversation. “Yes, highness.” In a tone similar to her father’s she sighed, “You don’t have to call me that.” That said she brightened, “We have a long journey ahead, don’t we?” “We do, highness.” She said, blatantly ignoring the princess’s earlier request. “Do you have any more stories to tell, to pass the time?” Deirdre hid a sigh. She’d learned dozens upon dozens of fairy lore in her days growing up. Most all of which fascinated the Princess like a little girl when she’d first heard some of them. However, with frequent requests she’d started to run a bit low on the fantastical tales. “I’m not too sure I do. However I can retell a few, if you wish.” Julianne considered this, “Possibly. Or, I know! Tell me some stories of this village we are going to.” “It’s the southern most port village of the kingdom, the last stop on your rounds.” Deirdre replied, monotone, “Not much to tell.” “You know what I mean.” “Do I?” She sighed, “I mean, I’d like to hear about your growing up there.” “Not much to tell.” She repeated. “Did you have friends?” “What kind of silly question is that? Of course I did.” “What were they like?” Now she sighed, “Well there was Ruth, nearer to my age, and her younger sister Joyce. The two of them were much like sisters to me growing up, as were the other girls near my age, Meagan and Nicole to name a couple.” A smile came to her lips without her thought, “There were the men too, friends of mine. Paul, Keith, Damian – oh Damian was, oh how old was he? 13 or so when I left… My Lord, he’ll- he’s almost 18 then! Nearly adult!” What a shock, she’d remembered when he was just the most awkward young boy – just starting to sprout when she’d been plucked from her home – her world. She loved remembering them. What fun she’d had growing up with everyone. She hated missing them. She was incredibly grateful to Phil for letting her take such visits. This would be only her second, and the first she had taken only a year after she’d left. Another 4 years had passed since then. Julianne was predictably interested in this information. “You had a lot of friends then. Did any of the men fancy you? When you were young?” Oh she WOULD ask that, the silly young woman. “Brotherly friendships with most of them really. I’m not the type to be fancied.” Of course, thankfully, the question of if SHE had fancied any of THEM did not arrive. “You are beautiful.” “And stubborn, and impatient, and completely in lack of docile respect. Something men always want in a woman.” The princess laughed, “Just when I believe it safe to take you to balls and introduce you to my friends.” She shook her head. Deirdre couldn’t help but laugh along. The princess was all those stunning womanly qualities, but she did not lack for warmth and humor…both qualities from her equally kind and witty father. “I can’t say I’m greatly disappointed in your words. Court is not a pleasure I think I will enjoy.” She said truthfully. “Oh but you’ll have to go some day soon!” “Do I?” “You will be in search for a husband, sooner by the day. As am I, of course.” “That does not make the idea any more appealing, you realize?” Julianne grinned, “Well, even if you do not go to the balls in search of your own husband, father will most likely make you come to watch over me.” “Joyous.” Deirdre murmured sarcastically, “Thrust into a ball having to watch over the princess as she is flirted with by men I’ve never seen, much less know anything of their character. I can think of nothing more wonderful.” That was a day she was not looking forward to. 5 years out of her lower status life and she still knew little to nothing about it. And she didn’t much want to learn. It was going to be great to see everyone again, she thought to herself, as she returned to absently rearranging her white silk gown. She’d probably missed so much in her four-year absence. Weddings, births even – Paul was old enough to have been married when she’d left, and George, the small town’s leader, and his wife could have had a second child for all she knew. Such events would not dream of being considered high enough for a countess to receive word of, but still it saddened her to think about. There was silence in the cart again. Julianne had caught it though, the happiness and talkative nature that came over Deirdre when home was the topic, and the silences when she stopped and thought. “So,” She said as brightly as possible, “tell me more about life in this port village – everything you know!” And Deirdre told her.
The princess, Julianne, very rarely made trips around to smaller ports in the kingdom. Last time she had come was four years ago. That had been the last time they’d seen Deirdre as well. Deirdre was always a little bit of a puzzle to Paul. He’d only been 10 when she was brought into the village orphaned, and then she’d seemed scared but haughty already – not used to village life. That aside he’d made a fast friendship with her. She was stubborn, free-spirited, but at the same time as gentle as the sister’s Ruth and Joyce. All and all, he’d grown up with her, and considered her a close friend. He didn’t want to see her again. Sure, he’d been around 25 when she’d left, but that didn’t make him feel any less of a sulky child when this friend was taken away from him. And worse, that she was a noble. Paul had never hated the idea of court but he was not too fond of the lords he knew of. The world where everyone looked down on each other – not very appealing, he had to say. That Deirdre was a part of that, by blood, that that world was now where she was. It made her leaving all the worse. He, at first, could hardly imagine court life changing her. From what he remembered she didn’t take to flattery, or femininity in general, at all. She did as many things as a lad would in that village and never took no for an answer. Paul couldn’t see her acting courtly at all. But maybe four years of passing had indeed turned her into one of the people he disliked. He wasn’t all for seeing her again, if that were the case. “Paul?” The sweet voice brought him away from his thoughts of Deirdre automatically. Joyce stood in front of where he sat, actually waiting for his old friend’s arrival and debating if he should or not. In one arm she was holding a basket of apples, and her other was stretched to him, holding an apple as well. “Want one?” She added, with a laugh, when he said nothing. Paul grinned at that, probably looking like a complete fool doing so, but not really caring. He found he cared about little else when Joyce was around, smiling angelically like she was now. He took it from her before asking, “What DO you have all those for?” She laughed, she was always laughing. He loved it, “Ah, I’m bringing them for Neil- for the horses.” She added. Neil was the young owner of the stables toward the edge of the village. Not too hard a job, and many an afternoon a person could hear quiet guitar music coming from the soft-spoken charming young man. He wasn’t sure what to think of Joyce going to see him, or well, going to see the horses. That buried his jealousy for the time being. “I’ll come with.” He proposed just to keep that feeling at bay. “You don’t have to do that.” Paul had already stood and took the basket from her, “I want to.” She colored a little. A lovely blush making her look more sunny and sweet, “Well, I suppose I thank ya.” “Not a problem.” And, not paying attention to anything else, as always, he escorted her. “Joyce, good afternoon.” The stable owner greeted her in a cheerful mood, casting aside the guitar he had been playing softly. “Hello also, Paul.” He added, in a more generic polite tone. “Hello Neil.” She replied sunnily, “I brought apples.” “Do you want to feed them?” He replied. She laughed her normal laugh, “I still don’t think they trust me yet.” Paul blinked at the exchange. She’d been here a few times before then? He wasn’t sure he wanted to think about that. Maybe coming hadn’t been a good plan. He didn’t hear Neil’s reply though, because his mind was suddenly occupied by the sound of footsteps behind him. “Oh Joyce, I believe any animal on this earth would like you.” A laughing, and familiar, voice said from behind him. Paul couldn’t turn around, but Joyce did and he could see her expression of delight. “Deirdre! Sister!” She brushed past Paul to the woman behind him, a woman he still could not turn to. He had to smile at Joyce’s reaction though. Deirdre HAD been all but Ruth and Joyce’s sister as she’d grown up. Neil greeted her too, and at last Paul turned. He hardly recognized her. Four years ago, on her first visit back she retained some of her messy dark hair, and village clothing. You wouldn’t really know a change had happened in her life. Now she stood before him looking absolutely undeniably noble. She may as well have been the princess herself. Her skin had always been pale, but now she looked nearly porcelain, and just as flawless. Her dark hair had grown longer and was braided with a thin white ribbon and tossed over her shoulder, matching the most ornately designed white gown he’d ever seen. She looked like a different person – and not someone who fit back in the life she’d left behind. This is what he had been afraid of. But her voice got in the way of him thinking her another woman entirely, “Joyce, sister, oh are you? Well you are as quick to cry as I recall!” She laughed. “Look at you!” Joyce was exclaiming, her voice did sound tear choked, “Absolutely stunning!!” “Stunning and a nuisance, if you mean the dress.” “I could bare that to wear such a thing” More laughter, “You only say it because you don’t have to.” “Oh yes,” Paul finally spoke up, “How hard it is for you to wear such things Deirdre. Pure torture, I’m sure.” The tone was much more sarcastic than he’d planned. But she only laughed more, “He speaks! Oh and here I was beginning to believe my old friend had suffered some tragedy that had left him mute!” It felt strange for this magnificent creature to call him a friend. He was silent again. From the distance he saw a touch of hurt in her eyes at that. “Well – come on!” Joyce was saying, “You need to see everyone else! Oh I’m so happy to see you again!” Dragging the white-gowned woman behind her the two left. Deirdre shot him one final look over her shoulder. He recognized the plea; she wanted to talk to him later. He wasn’t sure he could do that.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 23, 2010 18:41:51 GMT -5
Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Paul. What had been wrong with him as she spoke to him earlier? If you could even call it speaking to him, she thought glumly. He had looked stunned, speechless. Deirdre may have found it flattering but she didn’t like thinking her looks would get in the way of their old easy friendship. That, and it didn’t look like a good stunned – just the opposite in fact. But he was only one person, in an entire village of old friends. And, as she met the rest of them, it appeared he was the only one with that reaction. Ruth, like her little sister, nearly tackled her to the ground at seeing her. Nicole and Meagan to their turns with hugs as well, and the guys clapped her on the back like an old mate. She felt completely normal here. She knew while the princess’s visit was supposed to be the main focus everyone here had only concentrated on seeing her. After a tall young man gave her a friendly hug, she pulled him at arms length, gazing up at him, as it occurred to her who he was. “Damian!?” She squeaked incredulously. My, he had grown up indeed. He laughed a deep laugh. This was the reaction he had hoped for, she knew. “I’ve grown up a wee bit in 4 years, Deirdre.” “I can see that.” She replied, still shocked. He was over 6 foot that was for sure, and looked closer to her age than 17. “But what are you wearing?” She said, putting a finger to the near rags the boy was in, “You’d look more grown up in some decent clothes.” More laughter for that, from everyone gathered, “They’re comfortable.” He grinned. Oh my, she could see he probably won the hearts of many of the younger girls here, with a smile like that. “Besides, I don’t own much else.” “I’m sure you could get some clothing loans,” Deirdre argued, “Paul or Keith’s clothing has to be your size now.” Trying to lighten that mood she flicked her eyes to Paul. He and Damian were about the same height it seemed, but wouldn’t remain so for long, “Paul’s may be too small soon though.” She said, failing to smother a giggle. Damian nearly died laughing at that, and she happily caught the crack of a smile that crossed Paul’s face, “Court has done well at turning you docile, I see.” He commented. Deirdre laughed; he’d sounded almost relieved that she was as fiery as when she’d left. She gave him a mock curtsy, “Thank you, good sir.” And now he laughed, and it was her turn to be relieved. Her friend was her friend again. She didn’t think she could bare it if he were not. “Speaking of,” She added, glancing around the group gathered, “where IS Keith?” The blonde young man was missing. George gave the warm smile she’d missed so much while away, “Every couple weeks he’ll be away for a day or so, trading. Wanted him to stay to see you but he said he’d be back tonight.” Keith had barely been older than Damian was now, when she’d left. The thought of him with any kind of job… trading… it was hard to imagine. Ruth laughed at her expression, “Hard to picture isn’t it? But he’s doing good at it. We have much more than we ever imagined since.” Deirdre nodded absently, “Well, that is good to know I guess.” She continued to talk to anyone she could, while George, village leader as he was, spoke to Julianne and her guards, negotiating their own trading. She tried to remember if these trips were made when she had been growing up here. She knew the port traded with the royal city, but she hardly remembered a carriage coming from the city to do trading. She wondered if the King had devised this just so Deirdre could see home. That was an incredibly sweet plan, and it would almost be over. These weren’t daylong stops in a single place. They had been to three villages before this one, and would have to be back to the castle the next day so they’d need to leave soon, very soon. To return, God knew when. She was winding down the conversation when Julianne spoke. While supposedly directed to George, Deirdre knew she was speaking up so all those around heard. “Thank you for the peaceful welcome and the goods we’ve traded.” She said in the most mature formal voice she’d ever really heard, “I am to travel back home, however Deirdre is to stay for as much as a week longer.” She was? When on earth was THIS discussed!? The girls cheered and Paul looked as surprised as she felt. She looked at the Princess who glanced around George to wink at her. Oh, she would have to thank her later. George, of course, happily agreed to that, and that conversation ending, Julianne prepared to go. Deirdre caught her quickly. “What did you do that for? The King doesn’t know about this does he?” “Deirdre, a fool would know you would much rather be here, for as long as you can. No, father doesn’t know, but you are safe here as you would be anyways. And you may stay here however long you wish.” She smiled, “Well how will I get back, when, I eventually must come back.” Julianne made a face, thinking about it, “I’ll send a page, and a horse, for you when I arrive home. He will stay as long as you want and accompany you home. Does that work?” “I suppose it works as well as any plan, but,” She thought about some way to thank the young woman, “Can you not at least stay the night? It is not what we- you are used to, but you could meet everyone I spoke of. Please?” She considered this, and Deirdre could see the tiniest bit of haughty distaste for such a setting, for so long. But again she caught her pleading expression and smiled reassuringly at last. “I will stay this night. And I would love to meet the old friends my Deirdre spoke so highly of.” She giggled, “What was the tall dark haired one’s name again?” “Damian, and he happens to be 17, highness.” She raised her eyebrows, and looked a little putout, “Is he really…?” Deirdre laughed, “He is, and I don’t think I want you staying another night if it means you’ll return to tell the King you’ve fallen for a lowly tradesmen or stable owner.” “Oh I’ll be good, Deirdre, I promise. No harm in playing though… that other one you spoke to… Paul, he was also quite cute,” She babbled on. Deirdre rolled her eyes. As much as the wayward young princess annoyed her at times, she had helped her stay longer with the people she loved, and she was grateful for that.
“So what’s with the daggers you’ve been staring at me since I arrived?” Deirdre said in a low voice to Paul as she’d escaped the companionship of the lovely princess momentarily. He, himself, had been trying to keep busy talking to Keith about his time trading. But the young man was surprisingly quiet about it, and was now chatting with the guards that had accompanied Julianne. He could do nothing but be forced into conversation with the beautiful countess, in front of the bonfire. “Don’t know what you are talking about.” “Oh you don’t?” He spared her a glance, trying to keep it civil, and met the hot stubborn stare of her grayish blue eyes. This look she had been giving him since they were teens and he’d objected to anything she’d wanted. It was, indeed, his old friend under her courtly fashion. He couldn’t think of what to say. “I’m not different, you know.” She continued, “I don’t know why you would think that at all. If I was, well, I doubt I would come out here at all. Spend my days in a cold castle listening to gossip about this lord and this lady. Would you care to hear about that – I could go on and on. I could avoid speaking to you; think of you as lower than me. But,” Her voice lost the anger that had built up in the course of that, “I don’t WANT to do such things. Paul, you are my friend. No five years with some stupid title changes that.” Paul now looked at her longer, trying to find the old friend in her flawless face, “It’s a tad shocking.” “Oh so this IS all because of the clothes!” She sighed, her voice quite exasperated, like she had guessed this all along. He couldn’t keep in the laugh that bubbled up, “Well, I’m hardly used to a Deirdre who actually takes TIME with her appearance!” She laughed freely with him, giving him a shove, “Now I wasn’t that bad!” “No, you weren’t. Definitely not in comparison to young Damo.” “Wouldn’t quite call him young anymore.” She said with a wry smile, “I was only half joking about him growing beyond your height.” “That’s very comforting, thank you.” “So are we friends again?” She sounded almost pleading, “We never weren’t.” He said, trying to make himself certain of that, actually. Though, just knowing that he could tease her, and her him as often as before comforted him a large deal. “So you two are talking again!” Joyce’s melodious voice came from behind the two. Paul whipped around to see her, smiling in the firelight, bringing the two mugs of hot tea. “I didn’t know our lack of conversation was such controversy.” Deirdre murmured dryly, and Paul could feel her eyes on his own foolishly grinning face. He’d have to tell his old friend about that particular development later. “Oh well, you two were inseparable growing up, I remember.” She handed the mugs to each of them. “Strange that you didn’t lapse straight into that upon reuniting.” “Thanks,” He said softly, thinking over her words, “And were we, really?” He wasn’t sure he fully remembered them, but now that she said it… there wasn’t a memory growing up without her present. Deirdre laughed, “Oh I remember much of those days! I miss them.” She let out a small sigh then, and Paul could tell she truly did, and more and more his distant feelings toward her disappeared. “I’m sure you do.” She replied, grinning more and moving to sit next to her friend and sister. Paul looked between both girls who had now slipped into their own conversation. His eyes flicked from his old friend, her hair now out of it’s braid and a tad windswept made her look more like the girl who had left, to the bubbly red-head speaking to her, her own eyes bright with happiness and wonder and a smile that brought his heart a fair bit faster. He wished they were not both conversing before him, torturing him with how he wanted to talk to each of them separately, privately. Deirdre, about how he’d missed her, about the 5 years of catching up they needed to do, how close he wanted to remain with her, even after she had to return. Joyce, about wanting to be close in a different way entirely. But neither conversation could he have while the other one was present, and he could not decide to whom he wanted to speak to more. “You should head to sleep now, missy.” Deirdre finally said to the now yawning redhead, “I will be here in the morning, for a few days to come and I won’t be up much longer.” Joyce nodded at that, “Alright, alright, I’ll be going to bed then.” She hugged Deirdre again before standing up, “I’m so glad you are here.” “I am glad, myself.” “Good night, Joyce.” He added quickly, as if concerned the two had forgotten his presence. Deirdre smothered a giggle and Joyce beamed. “Good night, both of you.” And with that disappeared inside. There was a second of silence, “So, my friend, when did this happen?” “When did what happen?” He tried to keep a serious expression, only to fail miserably. “You were gaping at her like a fish, Paul. You can’t give me that.” He shook his head, now grinning at her, “Okay, well I’m still not sure when it happened, but it did.” “You love her?” “I think I do.” He said slowly. Her face lit up a bit in the fire’s glow, “Oh well how sweet! She doesn’t know, I assume – you two aren’t together yet?” “No, I haven’t been able to tell her.” “You and shy… those are two things I’ve never imagined being put together, to be honest.” She laughed silently. “Things kind of change when you meet someone you love, you know?” “Actually, I wouldn’t.” He cocked his head, looking at the stunning beauty that was his friend, “You mean to say not one highborn lord has come asking for my friend’s hand?” He found that unbelievable. “That, for one, is not the same question as knowing about love.” She pointed out dryly, “And two, I’m not sure, actually. But I have already told the King that the possibility of my marrying one of those lords is very slim.” “Why not?” “See point one.” He chuckled, “You never know, there may be some lord you do fall in love with…” He tried to make that sound possible. Though, Deirdre, fiery and spirited would not be easily settled down with some stuff-shirt noble. But he knew, looking at her, no matter her denial of it, she was a countess. And no matter her complaint, one day, soon, she would be married off. He couldn’t say he was looking forward to that.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 25, 2010 7:48:19 GMT -5
When a letter arrived with the horse the next afternoon, without a Page Deirdre was a little more than curious. It took more than a few hours for the princess to have returned and sent her ride back, as well as for that to have reached her that day as well. So, that this had reached her so soon was a wonder. The letter, of course, had to explain. “Dearest Deirdre, I have had SUCH a wonderful shock – you will not believe! I simply had to tell you right this instant. So halfway on this journey home I send you your horse and this letter. I am not too far from you, so this will reach you on the day of its occurrence. This morning, minutes ago, we had stopped. Checking the cargo or whatever. But then we, oh I cannot think to pen it… we were RAIDED, dear Deirdre. It is a wonder I am safe. Or maybe it is not. I did not get the best sight of the highwayman who stole from us, but I had heard of such a man, as I’m sure you have. Dear, he is, oh you will chide me for this, but he is just the most charming of men! Something in how he spoke to me – yes, he spoke TO me. Now it is a wonder HE is alive. He is dashing, indeed and I can’t find myself upset in encountering him. Not to mention, he was rather handsome as well… to put it shortly. I can see you now, shaking your head at my foolishness, but truly – it was such an event! I wish you had been present. This letter is mainly so if you here of such raid, you know I am safe, shaken, and a little giddy, of course, but safe. Sincerely, Princess Julianne” Deirdre stared at the letter before her, and then, was indeed shaking her head, as she finished up Julianne’s letter. How was it she wasn’t surprised that this had occurred? She was of course, surprised that the ROYAL carriage had been raided, but not by the results of it. It was rather typical of the wayward royal. At least she was safe, and had not run away with this mysterious highwayman who had been notoriously raiding rich carts for the past year. “You alright, Deirdre?” Keith’s voice came into her thoughts. She glanced from where she was gazing at the letter, in the stables by where she’d placed her horse. He’d been out a bit in the morning to finish what trading he’d had left over, and appeared to be returning just then as well. “Just fine, thank you.” She looked her other friend over, seeing the scratches and worn areas of his clothes, and his hair in more disarray than normal. “Hard ride?” She asked. “A bit.” He laughed, not giving any more details than that. The young man didn’t say much. He wasn’t solitary, though, just not the lead spokesman when together with mates. “What are you reading?” Deirdre gazed at the man again. Something about his tone made it sound as though whatever she said would not surprise him. She glanced down at the letter. A description of this Highwayman would be needed upon her return. “A letter from the princess, telling me she is safely on her way home. And that she wishes me to return.” “Are you going to?” “Well of course, I’m going to… just don’t know when. Ju- The princess would want me back soon as I can but…” Keith tussled her hair like a friendly brother, “But you don’t want to. It’s alright, none of us want you to, either.” And with no more than that Deirdre was left alone in the stables again. Walking back to the rest of the village she thought about her day and a half she’d spent here. Already she felt welcomed back into the world with little trouble. She’d finally got her best friend speaking to her again. Everything was well. Just in time for her to leave her life behind again. She figured she would stay the night, but by the next morning Julianne would want her back. The King would too, as, of course, this hadn’t been his plan to keep her there longer. And there was of course Julianne’s encounter with being raided, that she wanted to speak with her about. But, this was still home to her. And if she thought she could, she would stow away and live here all her life. She was still bitter about being forced to leave five years ago. A laugh brought her out of these thoughts. Joyce’s giggling, cheerful laugh. Accompanied by a slightly deeper laugh. Paul? Deirdre wondered. Maybe he had begun to court the young woman at last. She located the sound to a farther toward the stables, and she turned looked at two people she overlooked during her reading and conversation with Keith. The young woman was definitely Joyce. The young man was another old friend, the charming Neil. Deirdre cocked her head at the chatting pair. Nothing was out of the ordinary in how they responded to one another. Just friends, then? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped for that. Joyce was her sister, and Paul was her best friend. This created quite the difficult situation, she sighed, turning away again, and returning to the main part of the village.
Deirdre was in no hurry to leave. Paul wasn’t in any hurry to have her leave either. No one was. She had her horse ready that evening, muttering something of about Her Highness wanting her home soon. He could care less about the princess’s wishes right then. “Oh stay the night.” Sisters Ruth and Joyce pleaded her for the some-teenth time. She laughed and tried to shake her head, to which they protested, “The princess would not want you to be on the road at night – imagine what would happen!” The girls had a point, Paul thought silently, trying not to raise his own protesting voice. Though he was sure he could talk her into another night in the village. He was not incredibly attracted to the idea of a solitary young woman riding a dark road by night. “There are plenty of inns along the road.” She said slowly, “Probably much more used to catering a countess.” But she was smiling, and then winked. That was agreement enough for the sisters, and for him. Deirdre would stay another night. And with that, Ruth and Joyce practically held a party for the last night of their sister’s stay. Paul once again was stuck watching young women conversing, longing to talk to his old friend. No matter how much he did, it would never be enough. Watching her have fun was a lovely consolation though. She looked, though still dressed as she did when she arrived, like she had never left them. He wished she hadn’t, but of course, his opinion on it didn’t matter. “Do they RUN out of questions?” She demanded, having squeezed herself away from her other friends to speak to him, inside one tavern. She had been sending him sheepish looks throughout – obviously sharing his opinion about wanting to talk again. “I’m going to take a guess and say no.” “Joyous. I suppose I need to get used to being harassed with questions about my life’s occurrences. At least, at the moment it is by friends…” She sighed. “As opposed to…?” Her laugh lost a bit of humor, “Even if I am not married off, Julianne will be, and I am to come with her to every court dinner or ball until then.” “Sounds exciting.” He tried not to sound TOO disbelieving of his words. “Oh it’ll be horrific! Every one will want to know of my past here, and then everything I say will only be repeated a million times and everyone will be so disdainful and haughty and tell me how sorry they are that I had to live in such horrid conditions.” She nearly sounded like crying by the end of it. Any lingering fears about Deirdre changing over the 5-year absence disappeared from Paul’s mind. He placed his hands on her shoulders to get her to look him in the eye again, as she’d looked away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Deirdre. There’s not much more I can do than that.” Her face had broke into a smile and now she laughed with the tiniest more humor, “Just be my friend. I know it’s hard with my being away for possibly years and years, but you have no idea how it hurt me when you avoided me upon my return.” “Did not.” “Paul, you did.” He felt guilty because he knew she was right. He wanted to say something to her, but could think of nothing. He remembered his hand were still firmly on both her shoulders and removed them, then. “Sister – how long do you plan on getting us tea? Ruth thinks you are stalling!” Joyce laughed from outside by the campfire. Deirdre sent him a sheepish smile. “Want help with that tea you are supposedly making?” Paul asked, playfully. “Yes, please.” With some laughter and mess-ups he’d helped her produce beverages for herself and the sisters waiting. “And now I must go out there again… I keep reminding myself that I love them dearly.” She giggled. He grinned, “if you want, I could come out with you and keep the conversation steadily away from your court life.” “That would be marvelous, really. But who knows, you may get intrigued and want to ask about it yourself.” “I couldn’t care less about what you do back there, I’m just happy you are here right now.” He said truthfully. “Well,” She continued, not to be deterred, “You also would not want to go against your love-to-be, would you? She takes such delight in questioning me; you would not wish to take it away from her. Or perhaps you just COULD not…” She giggled, and it grew to full out laughter at his flustered expression. She was so good at understanding his views of Joyce – friends were, though, he supposed. When he’d found himself unable to speak again – it was strange how often he was at a loss of words around her – she laughed and took the mugs. “Wish me luck.” She said, nudging the door open with her shoulder, she glanced out and looked over her shoulder at him, “Oh and can ya make another mug? Neil’s out here too.” Paul glanced out, and indeed, the other young man was. But then so were Keith and Damo. So it wasn’t as though they were alone. He exhaled. Deirdre grinned, “Maybe you should come out after all. Don’t want miss. Joyce to have her heart stolen from anyone else.” A wink and she disappeared. In the end he did come out, sitting between the again arguing Keith and Damian though not doing anything to stop it. Just laughed, and let their conversation take his mind off of things. His friend sent him smiles throughout the remainder of the night, as she was indeed questioned of every aspect of court life. A topic that seemed as annoyingly boring as she’d made it sound. The beautiful Joyce sent him grins as well; all the while trying to get him into the conversation she was in with Deirdre. But he already knew more than he wanted to about her life at the castle, and her feelings toward it. But he would grin back a sufficient amount for her, and the fire of questions would return. “I think you are wearing her out.” He finally told the girls at last. “She does have a journey tomorrow.” Almost everyone groaned like 10 year olds told to go to bed or gather fire wood. Not happy. “Don’t remind me.” Deirdre said standing up and attempting to dust off the less than pristine gown around her. She then dropped her voice to a murmur, “I’m going to be killed for the state of this alone.” He chuckled, “I’m sure you will be fine. I get your words about it being a bother now.” She sent him the most ecstatic of smiled for that, “Exactly. And well, I really should be asleep now.” “Goodnight Deirdre!” Everyone now gathered said in unison. She beamed at each before leaving the circle. The next morning she had left. Paul knew she had to get out early but it upset him all the same. When would he ever see her again?
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 27, 2010 13:45:35 GMT -5
“So you are clearly smitten – tell me more about this highwayman.” Deirdre was trying to keep her mind occupied and away from the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She missed everyone so much. The princess, of whom the room they sat in belonged to, looked up from absently brushing her golden hair. “Who? Oh him…. Oh… that has passed.” Deirdre raised her eyebrows. Julianne seemed out-of-it, and in such a way she knew a male was inducing it. “So,” She said dryly, “What else occurred on this trip home?” “Whatever do you mean?” “You know full well what I mean. You look ready to burst.” She giggled, and then leaned forward, ready to divulge in some juicy secret, “Okay, well, it was night… and we were stopping at a tavern to eat and rest. Mainly uneventful things, and I was also, well I didn’t want people to know I was the princess just then…” “Disguised.” Deirdre gave her the word. “Yes, so well, it’s a bit half way through this silent meal, and, someone else enters. We were alone very nearly, I should say, as it was late. And this man… oh I do not think I can describe him.” “Handsome?” “What an understatement of a word!” She laughed quietly, “ He had these eyes… when he looked at you, you just couldn’t breathe, or think. Made conversation difficult let me tell you.” She blinked, “Conversation? You made conversation with some stranger! Your guards let you?” “Oh just barely, and they were not happy with it, I will add. And his voice…” She sighed and returned to combing her hair. “He wishes to meet me again.” She added dreamily. “Which is impossible.” She shot her friend a hot look, “Well, I suppose it is. Thank you.” Deirdre sighed, “Highness, I’m being practical.” “I don’t care for practicality at the moment, thank you.” She repeated. “And who knows? Maybe he is a lord of some kind! Then all will be well.” “I’m sure it would be wonderful if life worked that way.” She said with another sigh. She could not keep her gloom down. She felt so empty, so lonely. Princess Julianne inspected her friend’s face, “I’m beginning to think, despite your views on it, that a ball would be good for you. You need to do something fun.” “And a ball is fun…?” “Oh, Deirdre it will not be so bad! Father is planning for one at the end of this week… do come!” She did need to keep herself busy, and, well, she would have to eventually. Another sigh escaped her, “Yes, your highness.” Julianne clapped, “Oh thank you! It’ll be such a comfort having you there!” She gave a convincing enough smile in return, “May I go, then, highness.” “I suppose you may.” Deirdre stood up to do just that, “Oh and, love?” She added hesitantly. “Yes?” “You will not be happy to hear this, but-“ an awkward cough, “Father, decided to open up that I am looking for a suitor… so I have begun to receive letters from foreign kingdoms to inquire about me. It’s typical apparently… and gives me a chance to choose and converse with a potential husband before meeting.” Deirdre nodded, not sure what this had to do with her. The idea of courting through letters was a fairly nice one. It was slightly less awkward - only slightly, though. “Yes, highness?” She knew there was more. “He’s done the same for you, Deirdre. And, well, imagine to have a few letters waiting in your quarters.” She groaned, not bothering to hide her agitation at that, “Just perfect. I suppose I must sort through mail now.” Probably for the rest of her life, as she was sure now she would never cease to get letters until she was wed. Which was not anytime soon. “I’m sorry.” She said nothing in reply, and exited the room. So, the amount of letters on a small desk in her own chambers was not as dramatically large as she had it pictured in her head. That was a relief. Still 4 letters from unknown men, wishing to pursue her, was not something that she was cheerily anticipating. That and these letters were supposed to help her narrow it down… and well, she figured she would discard all of them. That did nothing. She made an oath then she would try to respond to ONE letter Getting it over with she read letter after letter. None said anything wonderfully spectacular. Some wanted to share their condolences about her lost 15 years. Those were in the discard pile without question. All four were unsigned. Deirdre guessed that maybe it was meant to make the person more comfortable within the first few letters… then after that the name would be revealed and the conversation could continue in better light. The letter she chose to reply to was the shortest and went; “Dear Deirdre, I hope this has gotten to you safely, and I hope that you have reached your home safely, after your trips out with her highness, Princess Julianne. I am not too familiar of how long a letter would take to reach you, of how you get mail, or how you reply. If you reply at all, that is. I can only hope you do – and I cannot imagine you ignoring anyone. But in saying that I’m reacquainted with the fact that, as of now, I truly do not know as much about you as I would love to. But, to be honest, I cannot find in my head a correct question to ask you – what does one ask in this kind of letter? How much easier it is to speak face-to-face, don’t you think? I suppose I should not continue this rambling, foolish letter to you, countess. I will simply send this in hopes you reply, though I have given you little to reply to.” And, like the others, there was no ending signature. Still the letter itself was the kindest she’d received, the most real. She could imagine a young lord nearly blushing as he penned the beginning of a courtship letter to the countess. It was endearing. With a smile she penned her reply, trying not to think of it as the beginnings of being courted. Though that was exactly what it was.
“Do you miss her?” Joyce asked Paul softly one odd afternoon after Deirdre had left. “Deirdre?” “Aye.” Careful with wording, he had offered to treat her for a lunch one afternoon. She had happily agreed, but it didn’t appear to be the time to have any declarations of feelings, as Deirdre was the topic, right away. He tried to shrug off how much he really did, “I figure we all do.” Joyce wouldn’t have that, “Yes, I suppose we all do. I know I certainly do, a great deal. But you are so quiet now that she is gone.” “Am I?” A giggle, “You are, you are. But maybe we all are too.” She wasn’t though. Maybe she missed Deirdre deep inside but after a little pouting she was back to her normal talkative self. You wouldn’t know that something had occurred, someone important had left. She must have been better at hiding it than it appeared he was. “But... I’m wondering if you miss Deirdre a bit more.” He was speechless, thinking of that. He couldn’t – couldn’t possibly miss her anymore than anyone else there did. For what reasons would he… oh. Joyce hadn’t had to finish that sentence before it hit Paul what idea the young woman had. “You think- oh,” He laughed, “She’s one of my oldest friends, sure, but no. It’s not what you are thinking.” He was not sure how she could think he and Deirdre were anything more. She was beautiful, to put it simply, but well, he just didn’t. Besides, she was a countess. Nothing could happen even if he did. Joyce raised her lovely eyebrows, but said no more in contradiction. Paul looked at her. Did she look disappointed that he had no more-than-friendly feelings toward the young woman who had left, or relived. He could have been easily making that second emotion up. He wouldn’t put it past himself to do such a thing. He couldn’t help it. He was so, as Deirdre would put it, smitten with beautiful girl. This lunch alone, he found himself staring, gaping at her. She really was stunning, her hair like fire and eyes always bright. She took no notice of his silent staring… if there was any. Deirdre had convinced him that his expression was more than obvious when looking at Joyce, but again she didn’t seem to notice. “If you say so.” She responded. And now he knew the tone – disbelieving. That was embarrassing – the girl he loved was rather convinced he loved someone else, and nothing he said would do anything? Not good. But before he could say anything at all, his lovely companion brightened, “Did you know my father is thinking of getting Ruth engaged?” That had come out of nowhere, but Paul was thankful for the turn away from Deirdre. “I thought he would one day… to who?” He was guessing he knew. “Keith.” She laughed happily at the idea. “I don’t suppose either is opposed to it.” She beamed – devastating, “Well, Ruth doesn’t talk much about it, but I know she loves him. She always has. But, well, Keith NEVER talks about it much at all. If he wasn’t with her I’d think he’s not interested at all.” It was true, he thought. The blonde lad had seemed slightly out of it as of recently and he couldn’t think why. “Oh I know he is interested. Not the one to openly admit it, but he is.” He told her, to keep her cheery. It did, for a moment, “Well, that is very good to know. Father wouldn’t force either of them if they didn’t want to… which is good to know, in advance…” “Has he talked about possibly getting you married as well?” She didn’t seem uncomfortable talking with him about it. That was good. “Not TO me, specifically. But Ruth says he hopes to have us both wed.” His heart sped up a bit, imagining himself married to the beautiful fire haired girl before him. “And how do you feel about the idea?” She shook her head, a soft smile still on her lips, “I’m not sure yet… if I like the idea of getting married yet or not.” “Do you have any one you wish to marry?” He asked before his thoughts caught up with him. He blushed a little. But she laughed, “You even sound like Deirdre! She asked me the same questions to me while she was here.” She sighed then, “I miss her so much.” “We all do.” He replied, though he could not help but feel she was stalling or avoiding his earlier question. But he wasn’t sure he was prepared for whatever the answer may be. “I know you do.” She laughed, and before he could reply she continued “Do you know what time it is?” She blushed a little for no real reason. He blinked, “Probably a little after noon. Why?” He added as her eyes widened, at his words. She stumbled to finish what was left of her meal, giggling now, and blushing more, “Oh I promised – promised to meet some-someone this afternoon.” She finished and stood up. “Did you?” He said slowly. More laughter, “I did, I did. And I don’t – I’d rather not be late.” and without restraint she gave him a warm hug. “Thank you for lunch, Paul. It was lovely to talk to you… and I’m sure you needed it too.” He blinked as she turned to leave, “hm?” “With you missing Deirdre and all, you needed someone to talk to. Glad I helped.” And with that she giggled and left.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Feb 28, 2010 10:12:51 GMT -5
It was embarrassing, how much Deirdre anticipated her letters now. True, she still got four or five a day, but only one mattered to her. Fascinating how a few letters could leave her already feeling close to the man writing them, though she still didn’t even know his name, status, age, anything. He was humble, polite, nice, and, her favorite quality, he was funny. He must have lived somewhat close to the palace, for the letters rarely took a little over a day before a reply came. Always good as Deirdre didn’t think she’d like the bother of waiting long for another letter. Once she finally asked him if he could give her his name at the end of a letter. The answer, “Haven’t I been already?” She blinked at that before penning the reply, “No, like all letters I receive – it is unsigned.” “I imagine that is done by royal guards, wanting all letters to you to stay unknown. Not very fond of that idea, I have to tell you.” Deirdre smiled, though she wasn’t happy with the idea either. It was silly that she COULD not know who was writing her. How did this accomplish anything at all? He continued, “I could, possibly, find a way to slip my name into the letter itself, see if you catch it. Or would you rather I remain your unknown? I suppose if you aren’t opposed to it, I am fine.” Another smile for that – oh he was so very kind. And she couldn’t help but feel that she was enjoying this nameless suitor being nameless, despite her earlier thoughts. There was something, embarrassingly, thrilling about the idea. All wishes for him to reveal his name were gone when she reached a signature the guards kept. “Sincerely, Your Unknown” So letters continued this way. Between a countess and her unknown lord. She tried to ask him more about his own life, embarrassed by how little she still knew about him when he clearly knew about her. Everyone knew about her. And for the most part he answered, though he kept the answers vague. He wasn’t old. That was a relief when he penned that he was barely over 30. He had no siblings, and sympathized with her missing the friends she left years ago – she liked that quality right away. His main fault was talking before he thought, often making an already awkward situation worse. That made her laugh, she was familiar with that quality – it was one she, herself, as well as many old friends, possessed. Then he would flirt with her too. But every letter she received included the frivolous compliments, so she knew should not delight in them as much as she wished. But guiltily, she still did – when written by him. When she was not writing to her first and only suitor, she was fretting about the ball that was coming in a few days time. She knew it was going to be the most annoying bother of an event but she couldn’t help feeling nervous. So many people would know her, and she would know no one. It occurred to her as well that her unknown might be present. He would, like others, know who she was, while she would be left completely in the dark. She was excited and nervous - looking forward to and dreading this coming date. Her unknown wrote after her she’d admitted her uncomfortable feelings – leaving out her wish for him to be present. The letter had reached her, most wonderfully, the day OF the ball. “You’ll be fine.” It read, “You are a countess, who has had more experience in things than any of them can dream. If they even begin to treat you as though 15 years away makes you below them, don’t let them. If anything, you are above all of them, and show it. I’m sure the idea doesn’t appeal to you, but you deserve a chance to look down on some of the foolish people who think they can do that to you. Don’t worry. It is just one night. It will not make or ruin the rest of your life, Deirdre. And if it is horrible, tell me all about it. I hope I can do something to help. I am very happy I can write you at all. Sincerely, Your Unknown” How was it a single letter could improve her mood so much as this? She thought, as she brushed through her thick dark hair, reminding herself very much of the smitten princess after meeting two dangerously handsome men in one day. “You look so happy.” Julianne told her, smirking as they met with each other before the ball. Looking over each other’s choices in gowns, hairstyles, and other courtly items needed for such an event. The Princess, of course, looked brilliantly stunning. Her gold waves were doing nothing incredibly spectacular, in design, but still even in the muted lights of her room it glowed as though spun from gold. She could only imagine how it would look in the warm lights of the hall they would spend the evening at. Her dress sported the crimson and silver that was the kingdoms colors, and was cut perfectly to fit her, admittedly quite flawless, form. Deirdre herself, had tried to keep her own style fairly simple – but that appeared to be an impossible ideal. She had her dark hair braided with the purest blue ribbon she had seen and then the braids wound back into a bun behind her. She didn’t like the bare feeling on her neck. Dressing, she was able to find one a little less… eye-catching. Though the deep blue and shimmering black around her drew enough attention. She sighed. “Do I?” “You do.” She giggled, “Which is a joy to see, lovely. You must smile more this night, it makes you look most charming.” She shook her head, “I cannot make myself smile, if I am not enjoying myself.” “Then enjoy yourself.” Deirdre only laughed. She was certain she would not be enjoying this night. She didn’t. By the end of the night she was exhausted and completely fed up. The falseness in every polite tone was so apparent it made her sick. Every compliment, word of consolation or question of her past years annoyed her to the core. Twice she tried to leave early. Once, she was stopped by an offer to dance, which she really wanted to refuse but could think of no excuse. The second time Princess Julianne stopped her, politely. She knew Deirdre wanted to leave. “Give me another minute to say goodbyes. Then I can have a head ache and we can go.” “Thank you.” She replied wholeheartedly. That had been one night Deirdre never wanted to go through again. Though it was clear that she would have to more and more. That was distressing. However the evening after that horrific experience she was once again cheered by another letter from her dear correspondent. Cheering, as well as confusing, and interesting. “Dear Deirdre, I have many things I wish to tell you in this letter. But much of it would come out ridiculous on paper. So, I can only I say I truly wish I could see you again, soon. Sincerely, Your Unknown.”
To say Paul didn’t miss Deirdre was a lie. To say he missed her a little was also one. To be completely truthful the past few days of events had made him long to see her more than anything else could. He longed to tell her of everything that had occurred in the form of some incredibly long rambling letter. But the information couldn’t begin to be penned without him feeling like a complete idiot. She had her own things to deal with at her home, he knew. He longed to see her again, and tell her all that had occurred in the days of her absence. That would not cheer her much though, as he knew she terribly missed her life here and telling her all that she was not apart of would not make her any happier, and Paul hated to upset her. The first occurrence, only a few days after her absence was what they collectively called the gypsy scare. That had been, well, shocking. A few days after Deirdre had left, the small town had expected little intervention of any royal for years to come. But that wasn’t the case. Unfortunately, the return of two guards did not bring Deirdre with. They did bring a bit of a shock. As they believed, suddenly, that Keith had been the highwayman to have robbed the Royal carriage the day they had left. And while, of course, they jumped to defend their friend, Paul remembered the lad had been missing a good lot of that particular day. But young Damian had paid that thought no mind. Keith was his older brother in nearly every respect, and he couldn’t imagine him as a thief, that was clear. So, without further worry, the younger lad argued Keith’s innocence and brought about the capture of a few gypsies – who everyone decided were at fault. But Keith wouldn’t have that, which surprised Paul a bit, and after the guards had left, he told everyone he was indeed at fault for it. That did little though, as George was kind and wouldn’t keep the lad imprisoned. “I can’t believe what you do or have done makes you any crueler of a person than I know you as.” He said kindly. And that had been that. So Keith had been freed, a few days after the other gypsies. Including a female who seemed rather close to the lad himself. But that little fact was of little issue either, as after that calmed down, ever so slightly, George publicly declared the engagement of Keith and Ruth. Paul wondered what Deirdre would think of all of that, as it had occurred. He wondered if her company would have made the situation better. If hearing about it would surprise her. He wondered a lot about her, more and more by the day. The other feeling of wishing for her presence was occurring at that very moment, and was a rather embarrassing situation. Finally, finding himself unable to wait, he had told George he was interested in his daughter’s hand in marriage. He’d sounded pleased with the idea, but Paul figured he would be. After that conversation he’d practically run into the woman he had been talking about. “Afternoon Paul.” She greeted him in a sunny voice, cheeks pink. “Afternoon Joyce.” He replied, breathlessly, his mind playing back the past conversation with her father, “Where have you been?” He added. Her cheeks now simply glowed, “Um… well, Neil – ah, he’s been teach-teaching me how to horseback ride, every couple afternoons.” Paul fought back a cringe at that. Was it just him, or did she really seem to be spending more and more time at the stables? He didn’t much like that idea, but tried to think little of it. Joyce was just so incredibly polite; she would spend time with anyone. He tried to think of that and not her blushes. “Well you seem happy doing so.” He said simply. She dimpled, “I am.” Then a pause, “So what have you been up to, then?” He colored, and tried to think of a way to bring up the conversation. This wasn’t exactly the time and place he imagined it being said. Thankfully before any words were exchanged, George called to his daughter to come. Though that didn’t ease his nerves at all. In fact it had quite the opposite effect. Awkwardly he sunk into one of the seats around where, at night, there would be a fire, and stared into the black coals that were there now. He was thinking too much, about all this, getting too nervous. He wondered what Deirdre would say; as of course she reached his mind again. Her words of consolation would be marvelous right about then. And with that, he pictured her with him at that very moment, sitting beside him, smiling softly. Or standing behind him. Hands on his shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly, trying to ease his nerves. “You are worrying too much Paul, it’s so unlike you,” He imagined her laughing softly. In his mind she was still dressed as a village girl, she had never left. In his mind, she wasn’t a countess, “Besides, you are the type of person one can’t help but develop a hopeless affection for. Trust me, you don’t have a thing to worry about.” She soothed him. He so vividly imagined her there that he very nearly opened his mouth to reply to her. He then shook his head, wildly trying to erase that image from his head. What – where on earth had that come from!? Since when did he miss her so much that he was fantasizing about her being there? Joyce’s words about missing her more reached him, but he shook that out too as he thought about what the meaning behind those words were. The sound of a door opening shook him out of his thoughts. He turned over his shoulder to see Joyce brushing out of the house she’d been speaking in. Paul met her eye for a split second but she glanced away quickly and moved to the quarters of her and her sister. Her face was beat red, but unsmiling. That was, more or less, answer enough. “She didn’t believe me at first.” George said softly, sitting next to him now. Paul hadn’t felt him come up, “ ‘Paul? No! He’s a friend father, but he would never consider me in such a way’. And to say she was distressed to hear I was serious, as well as you… well you can call it an understatement.” He sighed in time with Paul and continued, “Would you be surprised if I told you she wants to marry the stable owner?” Another sigh at the silent shake of his head, “She’s stubborn when she needs to be, and I’m sure nothing would deter her from him. Not even me, though I wouldn’t want to, anyways.” “I wouldn’t either.” Paul said at last, trying to make himself believe it, “If she loves him and he, her, then they should be married.” He sounded miserable, and almost childish. He took a deep breath and continued on a more mature tone, “She was obviously not the one meant for me, I suppose. I should probably talk to her though.” “She is feeling rather put out. She’s in a tough situation, as she does like you, you know.” “I know.” He tried to smile, “I’ll talk to her. Thanks for, ehm, trying.” He added stiffly. “You’ll be okay?” “I’ll be fine. Thank you though.” Trying to keep himself from slipping into misery, as he went to convince his almost sweetheart that he was a-okay, he imagined Deirdre beside him again. Reiterating the words he thought in his head. “It’s alright, Paul. She just wasn’t the one for you, in the world. There is one girl out there, one girl meant to be yours. She just wasn’t the one.”
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Mar 2, 2010 21:02:16 GMT -5
Life in her cold hall was the most boring life in the world. Deirdre was willing to bet on that. Nothing of any importance happened really and lately her only excitement was the courtship letters of her unknown whom she still longed to meet… again. He’d said ‘again’, in that last letter. She played in her mind every person she’d met at that ball. But all of them were so snotty, so, so not like the polite and funny young man writing her. Those letters could all be an act, she thought but shook that out the second she did. They weren’t, nothing that incredibly sweet could possibly be lie. She figured she must not have met everyone there. He said that he wanted to see her again, it didn’t mean that he had spoken to her when he first saw her. Maybe he was nervous. That made her laugh; she could imagine that. But even that did little to make her want to go to another ball, which someday soon she would have to. She’d love to see him, whether again or for the first time, but it was not enough. Deirdre knew she had only got more insufferably miserable after her trip home, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing how much everyone had grown was a depressing though, she could not help it. Damian had reached adulthood without her. Paul had fallen in love. Why the thoughts of Paul with beautiful bubbly Joyce bothered her, she did not really know. They were adorable, or at least he was adorable when he looked at her and just relaxed into a foolish grin. Maybe she just wished a man would smile that way at her… She liked to imagine the lord she wrote to easing into the same lovingly ecstatic smile at the sight of her letters, just as she did for his. She wished she could see that. She wished she could see him… as she always did. And that’s how her mind was divided; home, and her suitor. And switching her thoughts between the two left her feeling happy and empty within seconds of each other. Rather exhausting, she had to say. “How have your letters been going?” “My letters?” The princess reacted to the question different than Deirdre expected when posed. “Aye, the letters.” She stressed, “To your suitor of choice.” Julianne colored slightly, “Right, ehm, about those.” “You HAVE been writing them.” “Maybe.” “Highness!” “Well, I can’t – I can’t put my heart in them, I’ve never seen the person probably!” That wasn’t stopping her, though, she thought with a silent giggle, “Besides I still think about him.” “Him…?” She wasn’t looking forward to this answer, she knew. Another blush for that, “Well, I mean after the tavern meeting first and then-“ “And THEN! You saw him AGAIN!?” “For your information, he found me at the ball you so wanted to leave!” She defended sourly, “Well, he found me when I was outside for air.” “And alone…” Deirdre probed stiffly. Princess Julianne gave her another hot glare, “Deirdre, you wouldn’t think he – we- no! No, he just spoke to me for a little bit. He seemed out of it, though, we didn’t talk long this time.” “Highness…” “We made no plans to meet again, mind you… but if he found me here…” “JULIANNE!” The anger dissolved at Deirdre’s frantic squeak. “You called me Julianne.” She said softly, “And not ‘highness’.” She was surprised, but pleased. “Julianne- Highness – I-“ “Don’t! Please Deirdre, I’m happy you used my name. You are closer to a sister and a friend than just a ward and someone below me. I hate when you use that title.” The earlier argument was all but completely erased now, Deirdre sighed. The Princess meant well, and she did feel close to her. But she could think of nothing to say now. “I know I don’t compare to the family you left, and I know talking to me normally only ends with us arguing. But, I do consider you a sister Deirdre, and I hope you do too.” “Of course I do, highness.” She felt tears come to her eyes. “Julianne.” “Julianne.” She amended, “And I only argue because I care, you know.” Now the princess sighed, “I do. And I suppose I have to thank you for that. Whether I acknowledge it at the time or not, you are good to me.” And with that she wrapped Deirdre in a friendly embrace. “Speaking of, I was going to say this before – well we were distracted by this.” She continued, now grinning at her, her eyes also rimmed in red, “I’ve arranged for you to return to your home village for a few days.” “What? Why?” She couldn’t think of any reason to just appear. Julianne shrugged, “There were some things, happening, my guards told me. Nothing bad happened and everyone is okay, but I think you need to spend some time there, to… you know… make sure.” She winked. “Oh Julianne,” Deirdre whispered, hugging her close again, “Thank you.” “It’s nothing, it’s nothing.” She pulled back, “Now, don’t go running off with mysterious strangers while I am away… I’m beginning to think this plan wasn’t just out of the kindness of your heart.” She meant it to be scolding but only laughed. Julianne did too, “I told you, he made no plan to meet me again. And the next ball is scheduled after you return.” “Joy.” More laughter, “So enjoy your days at home Deirdre. I will miss you, but it will make you happy.” “It will,” She beamed, “Thank you.”
Paul had never been so happy to see a person in his life. It had been shock, more than a shock when Ruth and Joyce pounded on his door one morning. Opening it he wasn’t sure what question he should even ask. He didn’t have to though, as the information was too good to keep in, “Deirdre is here!” They squeaked in unison. Neither even waited for his dumbfounded reaction and took off to greet their friend and sister. Standing in the doorway he couldn’t yet comprehend what was told to him. Deirdre? DEIRDRE!? But – Wha- What on earth was she doing back now! It was almost as though she had known how much he’d wanted to see her in the past few days. That was impossible though, but he was thankful for her presence all the same. More than thankful. He didn’t know how long he’d stood mulling over the information but suddenly he focused to find her wandering to him. She was dressed in a gown for traveling and a similar cloak, looking much more like herself. “You look like you were just told the meaning of life or some like piece of immensely important and treasured information.” She winked. Paul laughed, and without a thought brought his arms around her in a millisecond hug. Dropping his arms he just grinned, “I’m glad to see you.” He simply said. She looked at him in mild confusion, “I can see that quite well.” She said finally, with a small chuckle. “Have you been harassed by the sisters yet?” Deirdre beamed, “Not yet though I expect it soon. You, yourself, haven’t asked a question I’ve been waiting on.” “What?” He replied stupidly. “Why I am here.” He laughed, of course that had been the only question in his mind, “Alright, fair enough. Why are you here, Deirdre?” “I have no idea.” And with that she broke into the most delighted laughter that had her leaning on him for support. Paul himself couldn’t hide his confusion at that, nor his own delight at her laughter. She was so happy to be here, he could see it. And of course, no mater the reason, he was happy to have her. “Do I get an explanation?” She lifted her head from his shoulder, and explained, “Her highness tells me a day ago that she has arranged my visit here for a few things – to catch up on events that have occurred in my absence… Paul’s what’s happened?” Her laughter had died out in her words but Paul’s joy only grew. How on earth did fate know that he’d been so longing to tell Deirdre about the events that she had missed? “There isn’t much but what happened is rather spectacular.” “I cannot wait to hear – will you be telling it tonight, as Joyce has already declared another like party for my return.” His foolish grin faltered, “Some of it can wait for around them…” She caught on, “Some of it you want to tell me in privacy?” “It’d be easier.” He said slowly. “I can elude them for a few moments…” She pushed him into the doorway he’d been standing in and shut the door. Proving her words. He couldn’t help but find it awkward, still standing incredibly close to her, now inside, alone. His heart did a familiar skip of a beat, which helped nothing. His heart had done similar tricks so often around Joyce. But this was Deirdre, his old friend. That was not a reaction he should get. “So,” She said, her tone softer, “What did I miss?” Paul took a breath, “Joyce is planning to get engaged,” He watched Deirdre’s face light up and quickly added, “To Neil.” “Neil?” She whispered, now there was no hint of a smile on her lips. “She chose Neil over… you?” The way she phrased that, like he was such a prize flattered him into a tiny smirk. “I suppose I’m not her type. And Neil is very good to her, the two of them I suppose, work better, together.” She looked confused at his good humor, “Are you alright with this? You love, loved her so much, I know. I don’t think I could be- I could possibly be so calm about it as you are.” That also flattered him, “It’s not easy, it probably won’t ever be. But I’m seeing it like, well, there’s someone out there for me, and she just wasn’t the one.” “You amaze me.” Was her only reply. “Thank you.” He smiled, “That’s all I wanted to tell you, that I couldn’t say in front of them.” “I can imagine.” Paul found himself embarrassingly reluctant to open the door, happy for this brief moment with just Deirdre. But at last he did, and as he escorted her out, thought of another thing to say, “How was the ball?” He’d heard a great deal about the ball hosted by the royal family, Deirdre’s first Royal court event. She sighed; clearly this wasn’t a topic she cared much about. “Eh, it was annoying, it was infuriating. I am glad it is over, though I have another one when I return. Her highness will not let me miss it.” He didn’t like the thoughts of her returning again, “And when is that?” “I leave three days after tomorrow. The ball is the day after.” She replied glumly. Ruth and Keith’s wedding was that day. An event he had so hoped Deirdre would be staying for. Paul glanced at the lovely girl’s frown. She was miserable enough about the concept of leaving, without knowing of the joyous event she would miss out on. He would not be the one to tell her.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Mar 7, 2010 10:14:30 GMT -5
Since when did Paul look at her quite like that? Deirdre wondered as they sat around the fire talking, everyone. She’d hope he’d sit beside her, but across from her, with the fire between them, was fine, too. He was happy to see her, of course. And his reaction the last time she’d returned had been quite the opposite… so maybe that played into why the completely almost childishly happy smiles were directed to her all night. She didn’t MIND it of course. It was a charming smile, more than charming, and always had been. She’d loved anytime she could get it out of him, which didn’t take much. But just the idea now that her, being there, was enough to have him grin at her like an idiot was immensely flattering. It reminded her of her previous wish for a man to send her such a smile – as it had come true. Though smiles from a suitor and from an old friend were two different things entirely. As she answered another massive amount of questions from her friends, she thought about what he’d told her privately. Joyce, Joyce had turned him down. That was a surprise, but not compared to the surprise of his reaction. He was so calm – she could never be like that, she found herself admiring that quality. Still, it upset her to think of him rejected, alone. But Paul didn’t look rejected at all, when he was smiling at her as he was, blue eyes glowing in the fire, holding hers longer than normal as the questions continued. As well as answers of what she, herself, had missed. Keith was sitting a little to her left, Ruth practically in his lap, and was grinning while telling about some things that Deirdre quite think called for smiling. “So… you actually let those- those gypsies go?” She asked at one point of the explanation. Unable to believe a lot of what happened, but that was the main thing for her. The one thing that didn’t shock her was what had shocked everyone else, it seemed; that the charming blonde lad was in fact the charming thief. But now that things were cleared up and happy, no one was tense about the subject, not even him. His grin widened, “Aye, they’ve done a few things worth prison, but I couldn’t let them be jailed for the one thing that WASN’T their fault, you know.” “You’re too kind.” “And I figure you wouldn’t be?” Ruth asked, with the slightest bit of sarcasm. Deirdre didn’t have to think about that, after it was said, “Okay, you’re right. I wouldn’t be able to either.” Everyone let out content laughter after that. She loved this feeling of home, again. But, again, it would only make it harder to leave. She met Paul’s eyes, sending him the message in her head. And he only sent her that infectious smile of his, easing her for the time. “So,” She added awkwardly, glancing away from her friend’s face, “What happened after that?” Keith shrugged, “I was, rightfully, jailed, but not for long. George decided he knew me and trusted me enough. And besides, I think Ruth had been pestering him about it.” He sent a wink to the girl closest to him, who giggled. “Alright, I was badgering him a good deal… but do you think I want my fiancé in jail any more than a week?” He simply laughed and kissed her cheek, while Deirdre digested that information. Fiancé? Ruth and Keith had gotten engaged. Before she could stop herself she glanced at Paul – and here she thought she’d return to find him the cheerful husband-to-be. She wondered how he was doing with all of this. She kept her tone bright though, “Well, here is something I did not know! Keith! Ruth! Congratulations! That’s so absolutely perfect, the two of you together!” They both laughed and gratefully accepted the congratulations. “You’ll be staying until the wedding, of course.” She paused, as those words struck her heart. Would she? She didn’t know. But, oh Lord, did she want to! This was just the thing to ease her heart about leaving. She’d never witnessed a wedding of anyone in the village but could only imagine what a joyous celebration must accompany it. Oh how she was suddenly filled with desire to be there. To laugh and dance and spend time with all the people she loved. “Well, I’d certainly love to! When is it?” Ruth grinned at the idea of her being present, “Four days from tomorrow.” She said in a giddy tone. Four… days… No… oh Lord, why then? Why then? But why did this have to be a decision for her. This was an event with the people she loved against a ball with no one she cared about present. No one but Julianne, to whom she promised her attendance… and her unknown, to whom she longed to meet more with every passing day. Oh why then? Why did she ever have to leave!? Why? “Deirdre?” Joyce asked tentatively when no answer came. Oh, how on earth was she supposed to tell these girls she would not be able to come. She avoided their eyes, and met Paul’s again – he looked wholly sympathetic. She remembered she had told him earlier when she was leaving. He knew then what she was missing. He didn’t look happy about it, but he looked understanding. Tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them, and with that she sprang to her feet. “I’m sorry.” She said softly, “I’m- um… I need to- I’m still tired, I had a long journey.” She was still looking at Paul, “I’ll talk to you all tomorrow.” “Goodnight Deirdre.” Everyone responded, a little confused. That was better than hurt though. But she’d have to tell them eventually. The tears spilt over and she turned quickly to the now guest home she stayed in. She hadn’t felt Paul get up, but he was beside her. His hand on her arm, she turned to him and saw his attempt at a smile, “I’m sorry.” He said gently. Tears now flowing freely she shook her head, “There is nothing to be sorry for. I’m just pitying myself. No mater how often I am here, I only want more.” “There’s nothing wrong with that.” Deirdre didn’t want to keep going on about it, though doing so right then was making her feel so much better inside; getting it out. But not now, not with the other friends within hearing distance. She brought herself on tiptoes to kiss her friend on the cheek. “I know, thank you. Goodnight Paul.” With that she entered her old house, and proceeded to cry herself to sleep.
There was a pattern to Deirdre’s emotions, and Paul had learned it within her first day back. He was never sure what set it off but what followed always went the same way, every time. The sudden disappearance of her cheer in a conversation, even as later she tried to pull a fake smile, it was always apparent. She’d go silent, clearly thinking about something she’d rather not, and when brought out of that she would either change the subject or, more often, find an excuse to get away. Only to return hours later, eyes rimmed with red. Paul hated it. Watching her so clearly agonized with the idea of leaving the place she was so fond of. He could never imagine leaving the village he called his home, he couldn’t begin to know how she felt in her position. He hated not knowing what set off her depression, it made conversation hard. He knew she needed to talk, about anything. Sobbing alone was obviously doing nothing, and the idea was heartbreaking to him. But he would set off on what he thought was a particularly safe topic and suddenly he’d said something and it all started off again. The evening before her leaving day Paul didn’t appear to be able to say anything right, though he was trying, and she was doing very well. Finally it appeared he’d crossed some line he had yet to find and her already worn out heart couldn’t take it, she stood and he silently cursed himself. “I’m sorry.” He said softly before she could excuse herself. “Nothing to apologize for. It is not your fault.” “I said something that upset you,” He said seriously. He didn’t want her to leave. “That still isn’t your fault, you didn’t do it on purpose.” She sounded better, and he was ready to relax, but she tensed herself again, “I need to go.” “Don’t.” Paul said it before he could stop himself. She smiled. “I won’t be gone long, alight? I just- just need time.” She said nothing more and left him sitting there, feeling stupid. He considered finding her when she was in one of these moods, when she was crying and angry and upset. He wasn’t sure if that would help her or hurt her, but it was something he desperately wanted to try. Although, seeing her at her worst was not something to look forward to. But it was torture enough as was, and he supposed it may have to be a little worse for it to get better. Waiting a few seconds, he got up to follow his friend. She wasn’t in her house. Or the guesthouse she stayed in, he corrected himself. However it had been HER house 5 years ago. Paul could see how spending time in there would not ease her in any way. But where else could she go to be alone. And then, and maybe he’d gone crazy, but he heard soft singing. The voice was high and pure, even from far away, and the tune, while particularly sad, was one he remembered from when he was younger, when they were younger. He followed it into the forest behind the village. Deirdre had just slumped to her knees in the tiniest clearing of the forest, when she came within sight. Having finished her song she just sat there – he wasn’t sure if she was crying or not. He didn’t want to say anything yet. “I would sing to the trees – when I was little.” She said softly when he was about ready to pretend he’d never come to begin with. She knew he was there. Paul blinked, “I never heard you.” “That was the idea.” He laughed a little and stepped closer to her. “You have a stunning voice, I don’t know why you didn’t want anyone to hear.” “I guess I was an insecure child.” She said, her voice a bit lighter at that. “And now?” He heard her sigh, “This place used to calm me, I needed that now.” “You need to talk, too, Deirdre.” He sighed like her, “I can hardly bear it as is, watching you silently hurting, as you are. I can hardly imagine how you have not sought someone out to talk to.” His voice dropped, “Even just to cry to.” Deirdre laughed at that, actually, “And you want to be my shoulder to cry on? Really, Paul – how DID Joyce resist you?” She was teasing but the words brought about that confounding skip of a heartbeat. He shrugged, despite knowing she couldn’t see it. There was some silence before she finally spoke up, “I really would so rather stay here forever.” “I know that. And we all wish you could to.” He closed his eyes, and then opened them as a thought came to him, “and why can’t you?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. In the evening light her face didn’t LOOK tear stained. That was good. “I’m the king’s ward. Do you think I can just leave?” He shrugged again. “You are 28, how long does he have you under this ward?” “When I am wed.” She replied mater-of-fact. “Can you not just tell the king you wish to leave his protection?” He wasn’t giving up, “It’s not like you have no where to go to, he knows you would be happy here. Can you not at least ask?” “I’m not brave enough.” She said, softer. Now Paul laughed, unable to help himself. With that he stepped to be right in front of her and watched her raise her eyebrows at the laughter, “Not brave enough? Deirdre, you are the girl who persuaded me into dueling you with real swords when you were 10. Who grinned when I very nearly killed you and only laughed at my apologies.” She beamed at him, “You remember that…” “You scared me half to death!” Now she laughed, with him, “It had me scared too, of course, I was better at hiding it, though.” “You’d be good at hiding it in front of his highness too.” He said simply. The smile faltered again, and he knew, for the second time that day, his words had her in her sequence of tears again. “Paul…” She began softly. Unable to bear it, he crouched down and brought her into his arms, where she broke into crying, “I want to,” She whispered, “I really do.” “Shhhh…” Was all he could reply with, holding her against his chest, unable to control how his heart stopped and sped up at the feeling it gave him. At that moment, he hated himself. But it was too late. He was days out of one heartbreak and was now holding another against him, murmuring silly words of consolation. Against all reason in him, he’d fallen in love with the one girl who he knew couldn’t return it.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Aug 8, 2010 16:12:20 GMT -5
Deirdre liked this feeling, more than she really wanted to admit to herself. She liked the feeling of Paul holding her against him softly reminding her that was going to be okay, for that’s all he could tell her. She had slowly stopped crying, having worn herself out, but she continued to let him keep his arms around her, like a shelter. He was in no hurry to let her go, and she found she didn’t want him to. It was like the world would be worse when he lifted his embrace from her. She didn’t want that, and so she laid her head against him, showing her contentment with their current position. He shifted slightly, as though making himself more comfortable. They’d be this way a while, speaking or silent. Deirdre was happy for that. She mulled over his words about telling the king she wished to live on her own. He was kind, but he would try and talk her out of it, she knew. In the end, not wanting to argue, she’d give in. And she’d stay in the cold world of court. It brought tears back to her. Paul felt her stiffen it seemed, he began to gently rock her, laying his head on her hair. Now her heart pounded at the affection in his touch. Affection she’d always felt around him, but suddenly felt it differently. But still so good – so wonderful to have someone nearly carrying her. She did begin to cry again. She didn’t know how long she cried, then stopped then started up again, and so on. But she knew she would never feel better than she did right then. She did not think she would be the same when she eventually had to leave his embrace, and could no longer hear his own heartbeat, or the ineffectual words he told her to calm her falling tears. “I think I’m alright, now.” She finally whispered. Hating to say the words. Paul didn’t move much, just shifted a little again, “I’m glad I could be here.” He replied, his voiced sounded a little rougher, but just as kind. “Thank you so much.” “Deirdre, it’s nothing.” She knew he was smiling now, she pulled herself back a little to look at his eyes. Which were stunning. The sun was set but a little light was still retained in the forest, a very dreaming blue glow around them, matching the deep brooding blue that was his eyes. She’d never truly noticed how absolutely soul-piercing those eyes were, especially as he looked at her the way he was. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead he leaned and kissed her. Deirdre wasn’t sure if he had meant for it to be short. A quick friendly kiss for comfort, maybe? She did know though, that he’d felt the same sudden spark she did at the touch of their lips, and found himself unable to pull away so soon. In fact, it caused him to deepen it more, bringing a hand from around her to cup her cheek, still wet from tears. She liked this feeling too, and it terrified her. Here she was kissing her oldest friend, realizing inside that she had wanted this for longer than she had been aware. Probably before she had even left the village to begin with. But her absences, and appearances had only made the shift in feelings stronger, and only made her happier inside to be kiss him now. He was making her lightheaded, his kiss was. She wondered if all she was thinking of was running through his mind as well. But, nothing made him pull away, and she could not find it in herself to end it either. But not even her lightheadedness kept her thoughts at bay for long. Oh lord, she thought, I am a countess. I am the king’s ward, and while I love him – Paul, he is no one. She loved him, and she could never love him. And now she was kissing him, making him believe she could. She would only hurt him. She pulled herself away finally, gasping for air after the kiss. She looked into the blue eyes that had only grown deeper, but glanced quickly away. “Paul” She whispered, “I can’t – we can’t… do this.” He looked understanding, ready to pull her back into another embrace to calm her. And while she longed for that, it would only cause more problems. He would try to talk her into going to the king, and she couldn’t find in her the courage to do that. Nothing would work out. “You don’t get it.” She added as another reason she couldn’t be with him came to her mind, someone she hadn’t thought of all night. “I have-“ she could barely say it, “I have a suitor. Already. A lord who- who has been courting me for a while yet. And a few days ago, before I came here, I was certain that he- he is the one I have chosen. The lord I will marry.” True, most of this she hadn’t thought of before saying, but it was true; her unknown had proven to be the most compassionate, kind man she had even begun to hope for when the idea had been sprung. If King Phil told her she had to choose a husband… and that he had to be noble, he would be her choice. Beyond any doubt. That got through to Paul. Which was heartbreaking to see. But his voice was civil, though that really made it worse, “I see…” He said softly, dropping his arms from her. “I’m sorry I complicated that.” Her heart felt as though a small tear had ripped in it, “Do- no- don’t please don’t be sorry. I- I-“ She couldn’t finish what she was saying as he stood up. Like she’d thought, Deirdre felt cold, lonely, without his arms around her. “Goodnight Deirdre.” He said softly, and moved behind her to walk back. The forest blurred with sudden tears and she found herself sobbing alone again. Sometime later, in the now pitch darkness of night Deirdre found her way back her tiny old home. She loved and hated every relic of her old life. She wished she could stay, she wished she’d never came. In no mood to sleep, but in no mood to sit and think she at last lit a small candle in her room. To fall upon a single envelope laying on her bed. She knew that handwriting, confused she opened it. As she read her mouth opened more and more, and she was grasping the handle of her candle so tightly for fear it would drop. She blew it out quickly and went to find Paul. The letter read, “Dearest Deirdre, I never meant to make you cry. I never did, for anything, but definitely over something like this. Then again, I never meant to fall in love with you. But it is too late for any of that, I suppose. And you will be going tomorrow. I wish you and your husband to be the best. Do not feel guilt about anything, for that would hurt me most of all. I was the one who got carried away. Do not fear of breaking my heart, for wherever you are and whomever your with, it will still, always, be yours. With love, Your Unknown”
What had he been thinking? That thought and many similar were all that were in Paul’s head as he sat in his own house. He knew somewhere in the back of his head, that is was basically pitch black in there, but no where in him could he find the incentive to light a candle. He shouldn’t have written that letter to her, as it accomplished nothing. It probably only made her cry again. He seemed to be very good at making the beautiful girl cry. Just perfect. He shouldn’t have kissed her either, that was his main mistake. However, of course, during the long moments of it’s occurrence he had never been so happy to have done something in his life. And she had kissed him back. That was a feeling that would never leave him no matter how he would try. Which is why he shouldn’t have done it to begin with. She was going to get married. That was another thought that struck him nearly speechless. To who? A noble. She HATED court. And everyone that was a part of it. He knew this, she’d TOLD him this in the letters they had shared. God, those letters would be torment for the rest of his life most likely. And now Paul had ruined that a bit too, hadn’t he? The Unknown title he held in their letter conversations was now gone. Maybe if he hadn’t done that, he could have still wrote her long after this marriage, though he wasn’t sure he could handle that. When he’d first begun writing Deirdre, he had had no inclination to be an anonymous writer for her. But when it came to light that she couldn’t get his signature anyways, the idea grew on him. There were things he could say to her more when he knew she didn’t know who he was. Nothing particularly profound things, at the beginning, but it was just easier. And she seemed comfortable with it too. The letter friendship was as easy as the friendship of their youth. He’d looked forward to continuing them for some time. Stupid of him, stupid to have kissed her and ruined everything. Stupid of him to fall in love with her when he knew he couldn’t have her and then stupidly show it and depress her. She had kissed him back, so it was clear she had strong feelings for him too. But she knew as well as he did nothing would ever happen. And she already had a lord she must have had feelings for too. Yes, Paul thought miserably, he had just about ruined everything for the two of them. God, it was so hard, though. It shouldn’t have been so hard. Joyce had rejected him only days earlier. But Paul had not moped in darkness for long hours after the fact. He tried to play in his heads the words that had kept him going. Joyce wasn’t the one for him, and neither was Deirdre. There was someone else for him. But Paul didn’t WANT someone else, he realized. Whether they were ‘the one’ or not in his life, he didn’t want anyone, he couldn’t IMAGINE wanting anyone, but Deirdre. And this was where he was in his thoughts when a small sound caught his ear. It was his door opening, just the softest sound. He almost thought he’d lost his mind. Even more so when he thought of who may have just entered. He was completely crazy. He turned to the door, though that did nothing at all. There was absolutely no light in the room now, he could barely make out that someone WAS standing there, figuring out who it was would be impossible. But he couldn’t help entertaining his pure inanity right then. “Deirdre…” “Shhh.” Deirdre’s voice came out of the darkness causing his heart to beat quite unnaturally fast. Her voiced catered a million emotions in it. None incredibly happy. What on earth had she found him to say. He tried again, his voice stiff still “You should be in bed you have to go tomo-“ “Paul, I told you to shush.” He shut up, waiting. After a pause she made a sound like a soft laugh, “When I returned after- well, when I returned to my room – I found a little letter.” Paul braced himself for her comment on that. He wasn’t sure he was ready for whatever was going to come. “It was from my suitor.” She was talking about a different letter? Not his? Staying quiet he let her continue, “It was a letter from my suitor, yes. But this was confusing. How was my suitor writing me here… and how was it that he knew exactly what had happened moments ago, and was apologizing for it.” Paul’s mouth dropped at what she was saying as she spoke. Was she – was she possibly saying what he could only imagine she was? She thought the letter from him was one from her suitor, which meant the entire time they’d wrote she had thought him a lord. And he was the lord she wanted to marry. He was the man Deirdre wanted to marry. Unable to stay silent after digesting that information he began again, “Deirdre…” Of course, then he knew of nothing to say. She cut in, and he let her, “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Why didn’t I mention the letters to you?” He asked and heard the sound of her nod, “I’m not sure. I might have at one point. But somewhere in mind my head I’d come up with the thought that you knew. Though, that’s impossible.” He quieted his voice a tad, “Also, I guess, writing you as Your Unknown was kind of like a dream. I suppose talking about it aloud would mean waking up. Remembering that you are nobility and I’m not.” He sighed, “But I guess I had to wake up eventually.” More silence as he waited for Deirdre to comprehend what he’d said, probably confirming everything for her. “Paul…” She whispered at last, “Paul, I love you. And you have no idea how happy I am to know that the man I love here is the same man I love in those beautiful, beautiful letters.” She sniffed then, crying again. But smiling. He sighed, again “It doesn’t do anything though,” His voice was a mix of relief and happiness and leftover depression, “I still- I still can’t have you. I could stand knowing that Joyce wasn’t for me, you know that. But I don’t know if I can stand knowing that I love you and that I can’t.” The floor creaked and he imagined her stepping nearer to him, and he was suddenly aware that, for not being able to see a thing, she was rather close. “Paul, that doesn’t matter to me. I love you.” She repeated. This from the person who had broken their first kiss because ‘they couldn’t do this’. But this was also his Deirdre, when she set her heart on something completely, or in this case someone, she would never be deterred. Giving up on any argument he reached to where he only assumed she was. Despite the lack of light he was able to find her arm he pulled her to him. Their lips found each other’s with little difficulty either. Paul couldn’t help it, he kissed her like she was oxygen he had been deprived of for the longest period of time. And rejoiced in her putting just as much passion behind her side as well. Pulling away for a little air he looked at her, and though it was blacker than midnight he felt right then that he could see her face in perfect quality. Eyes shining with tears and a soft smile on her lips. He pulled her in for another kiss and did not look away from her for the rest of that night.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Aug 10, 2010 12:12:42 GMT -5
Deirdre was confused for a second waking up in her own house. When she clearly remembered ending the night in Paul’s. However groggy memories came back, including, very early in the morning, Paul carrying her back to her own house. She laughed and sleepily protested this action, and he murmured something about what would be thought of them exiting the same home that morning. She truly didn’t care much at all about that but was too sleepy to argue anymore. So she awoke in her own home, remembering that she was to return to court that day, and that Ruth and Keith’s wedding was the day after. However, none of this could depress her. She had woken more brave and determined than she ever could have imagined being. When it came to giving confidence kisses were far better than letters. She smiled sadly though, when telling her friends she had to go back to court. But she couldn’t hide out here, though, after a few revelations she wouldn’t have minded doing that. Having the Countess Deirdre disappear again off the face of the court world. But Julianne, the princess, was dear to her, and so was the King. No mater what they said, she would return here to stay forever, but she wanted to try and compromise with them first – and make it easy. “Must you go? Surely his majesty would not bother you for a few days delay?” Ruth was begging, as Deirdre was mounting up for the returning ride. “If there weren’t that blasted ball, I am sure he wouldn’t mind it at all.” She replied with a sigh. “Are you really going to that ball?” Joyce added sadly. A grin came to Deirdre’s face and she lowered her voice. “No.” “Then why are you returning?” “I care for his majesty, and his daughter. They do not deserve the worry of not knowing where I am or what has happened to me. I am returning to request that I am taken out of the King’s ward, and would then be free to go and stay wherever I chose.” She took a breath, “If he does not agree to my request, I will disown my title as countess, and therefore will no longer be in his protection either.” Damian, who had joined in the goodbyes, as had everyone, spoke up, “You can do that?” She shrugged, “I suppose I can. Would never have tried. I would rather not as well. Like I said, I care for the Royal family, it would be nice to end on the nicest way possible.” “But you would still defy them and come here even if doesn’t end nicely.” Ruth asked softly. “I would.” With that she grinned, along with her fiancé. Both found this answer acceptable. She said her final goodbyes to each of them, before they dispersed, leaving only her love. Now that there were less people around he walked closer to her, he walked up, and smiled at her, resting a hand on her knee lovingly. Never had someone’s touch made her so happy as his. This was the first she’d spoken to him since the events that had felt so much like a dream to her. That the man she’d fallen in love with throughout her childhood and her few visits home was the same writer of the letters, that she had also fallen in love with. That two men close to her heart were one. That she did not have to choose between them. She could not have wished for something like this. Knowing that he loved her as he did, knowing that she had him to return to was the only thing giving her courage to do what she was. He was her support, he always would be. “You sure you want to do this?” Paul asked her gently, grinning though. “I have never been more sure of something in my life. I wish I had done this sooner.” The smile grew, “If you had, I would have never written you and well, who knows what would have happened between us.” She laughed, and awkwardly leaned down to kiss him. “I love you,” She said softly, as she broke off, “I don’t think I could live being separated from you, even before, this.” He shook his head, “But you’re willing to throw away a title and nobility for this?” He gestured around him. “Not this - you.” She glanced at what he gestured, “And this too, of course.” He opened his mouth to protest again and she shushed him, “Paul, I never belonged in the world of titles and nobility. You know this better than anyone. My life is here.” He smiled again, and pulled her down for another kiss, “Then I can only wish you the best with this, I hope when I see you again, you will not have lost anything…” She giggled, pulling away again, and kicking her horse forward, “Anything I lose I would be willing to lose a hundred times over to be with you. I will see you soon, my love!” And with that she was off.
“And you are happy, then?” Paul overheard the stunning princess Julianne ask his even more stunning bride-to-be the morning she came to visit. He hadn’t known what to think of Deirdre inviting her highness to the wedding of two commoners. Well, a commoner a Countess. But she was there. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on her pulling his love aside, it had just happened. Deirdre had told her that the king had, though after some attempts at persuasion, had smoothly let her out of his protection and ward. He was too kind, and, well, it appeared he had expected it. She kept a title of Countess, she was no longer part of court life, but could return anytime she wished with no problem. She told him she would, just to visit the princess. For, the princess it seemed, was not so happy to let Deirdre go. “She tells me I am her only true friend.” Deirdre confessed to him, when he asked about inviting royalty to their wedding, “She’s also sulky because some mysterious lord she’d fallen in love with after two meetings has disappeared of the face of the earth. Not that I am surprised.” She rolled her eyes, “She does not wish for me to leave.” “I hate splitting you in half like this.” He said quietly, and felt her finger touch his lips. She never let him say such things. “In half, Paul? Everything I love is here. I can spare a few visits with my Royal lovely sister, knowing that it’s my one price to stay with you the rest of my days.” God, he couldn’t resist it when she spoke that way, he pulled her to him and kissed her warmly again, to which, she responded, as always, with more passion than he thought he could contain. As always, she pulled back first. “I best go greet her then.” She winked, “We have to time to catch up with this after the wedding.” Which was enough to content himself for a while. Now, listening, he heard her laugh gently, “Oh, I am not entirely happy yet. I am not yet wed.” “I mean you’re happy here? In this place, forever?” “Julianne, my dear, I have told you a number of times… I am happier here than I could be anywhere.” A silence, “Oh don’t – Don’t think that means I don’t care – you were the only thing that made court life bearable!” A quiet laugh from the princess, “It’ll be so lonely without you, you realize.” “I do… I will visit, I will write.” Deirdre sighed, “You have to content yourself with knowing I have found so much happiness here, and that I will not be completely happy until you do too.” “Do you think I shall ever be?” “… Are you still pining after that dark mystery man?” “Can you blame me!? Well, you never saw him.” More laughter, “I suppose I did not. But your heart will heal, and you will find happiness. It wasn’t long ago I was certain to spend a miserable life alone. And you see me now. Please do not be hurt, I brought you hear for celebration – ow!” “Sorry sorry, you’re ready though.” It was then Paul realized that the girls were dressing for the wedding – which he himself needed to prepare for. Funny how he lost track of time there. Before he could sneak away, the door opened and the princess stepped out. Not expecting to see him she raised her blonde eyebrows. She didn’t look happy with him. He was stealing her sister away. Of course she didn’t. “You best stay with her for as long as there is breath in you.” She whispered softly, “I have never seen her so happy, and it is the only thing keeping me going. You hurt her and-“ He chuckled, embarrassed that he was laughing at the princess, but she was quite amusing in her protectiveness. Reminding him in a way of the sisters Ruth and Joyce and similar protective friendships. “Don’t worry, your highness, I would not dream of hurting her, as long as there is breath in me. She cares about you a great deal as well, you should know. I expect she’ll come visit more often than you think.” “She loves it here too much.” Paul laughed a bit more, “She loves being with those who she loves. And she loves you as well. She will not leave you alone so easily.” The door opened again, and both turned to see Deirdre in a white gown similar to the one she had returned in weeks and weeks prior, when all this really began. Her dark hair was still laces with ribbons and pearls but wasn’t braided for once, flowing in waves down past her shoulders. For once her gorgeous appearance did not disgruntle Paul. She loved him, she was his. “Are you finished talking about me?” She beamed between the two of them, but Paul could see a touch of nervousness in her eyes. “Really – both of you must work on your subtlety.” Her highness caught Deirdre’s tension too it appeared. She lay a hand on Paul’s shoulder; the most friendly gesture from a Royal he’d ever imagined receiving. “Oh I am making sure your fiancé is not getting cold feet, you understand?” She laughed now, “Oh I do indeed. And…?” She winked up at him, and he returned it. Julianne actually giggled, “Warm as a fire.” And added her wink into the mix. It appeared any fears about him meeting the approval of her highness, Princess Julianne, ended with that. She linked arms with him and tugged him away from his love. “Come!” She was laughing, “You are going to be late to your own wedding, sir. And that’s not to be had! You will have plenty of time with her later, now off!” She dropped his arm and shoved him a little in the proper direction.
So with no worries in the world and nothing but happiness in everyone present, he did one thing he’d never thought he’d do. He married a countess, someone so high above him. But she loved him and had been willing to give up another life for him… She was, without any doubt in either’s mind the one he was meant to be with. And in the celebration that followed Paul didn’t think he could have ever been happier in his life.
The End.Hope you enjoyed it! And forgive me for that AWFUL wait I put you all through. I've written the ENTIRE next one, and several other stories in that time... which you will be getting in time Thank you for the patience and praise. -Tangy
|
|
|
Post by laurenne on Aug 10, 2010 21:12:09 GMT -5
I absolutely loved it, especially Julianne's protectiveness. What's the next one about? I'm so excited for it.
|
|
|
Post by misssunflower on Aug 10, 2010 21:43:32 GMT -5
These are each based around characters and scenes in the new show Storm. And the next(and last) in this series is from Damian's POV kinda around the song "When You Are 18" that he sings. I'll post that first bit tomorrow
|
|
|
Post by Myna Chan on Aug 11, 2010 1:30:31 GMT -5
Awwwww.....Awwwww...Awwwwww...!!! That was a WONDERFUL Ending!! And There's gonna be a third one too!! I can't wait!!
|
|