Post by Rosie on Aug 22, 2010 18:51:19 GMT 10
Title: Perfection (in the eye of the beholder)
Rating: PG
Summary: Never a quiet moment in Dunlath. Part of my 'Family Matters' series with Lisa - and written for her birthday. I hope you enjoy it
--
It was remarkable, really, how much the sound of laughter could change a fief. Dunlath had always been beautiful to Maura, but it seemed to come alive with the sound of her children's laughter ringing through it.
The laughter was not long for this world, though, and shortly turned to shrieks of rage.
"They're your children," she told Alan sleepily, not wanting to move from their picnic blanket - though she wasn't entirely sure how much of a picnic a feast of apples constituted.
Alan listened for a moment, and shook his head. "Those are hellions, love. Nothing to do with me."
She chuckled, pulling a face at him. "I'll remind you of that when it's feeding time."
He yawned, stretching out on the blanket. "Let Douglass earn his keep. He's got Lord Theodore for back-up. Assuming Clarisse isn't attempting to dissect him, again."
Maura curled up next to him, smiling at the memory. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rilla and Julian, taking up camp in sight of their parents, in the hope that would afford them some protection. It worked more often than it didn't, though Maura had the suspicion that it wouldn't work today, since Theodore was being visited by a page friend, and it was almost inevitable that Clarisse would get bored.
"If she does, you'll be the one to replace him this time. I'm still not impressed that you held me responsible for our Theodore feeding him to the dogs." Theodore was in turns fascinated and repulsed by the bear he'd been named after - and, unfortunately for Lord Theodore, Clarisse's moods echoed her favourite brother's.
"You're a cruel woman," Alan protested half-heartedly. Somewhere off in the distance, there were screams as Clarisse was chased out of the orchards, pursued by Lord Theodore (and followed by Douglass). "There, sounds like Douglass has everything under control, as usual."
Feeling suddenly nervous, Maura sat up, scanning the distance. "Do you think those were good screams or bad screams?"
Alan groaned. "Yes."
Having been married to Alan long enough to know that he would not give her a more satisfying answer, Maura shielded her eyes from the hot August sun, and continued to try and pick figures out. "Ansis has given up already," she said, a note of surprise in her voice. "Clarisse - oh, not Rilla's dress again, Clarisse!"
Stifled laughter came from her side, and Maura could not help her own mouth quivering. Rilla had been told she suited light colours, and tended to favour white where she was allowed it for some unfathomable reason. Clarisse tended to favour mud where she was allowed it, and the two often clashed unhappily.
"Rilla's off to change," Maura informed her husband, a note of surprise in her voice. Usually, Rilla would come to them to complain. They tried not to interfere in playtime too much, unless one of the children asked them to.
"I'm not surprised," Alan revealed, his eyes closed and hands behind his head, the picture of comfort. Maura reached for an apple thoughtfully. "It's the Cavall boy. She laughs at his jokes. Even the terrible one about Good King Wenceslas."
Maura's eyes settled on Ansis, who was now sitting next to Julian. "I laughed at that joke."
"I'm not surprised," Alan repeated. "You're awful."
She weighed the apple in her hand for a moment, and then threw it at his stomach. He gasped, winded, rolling over and clutching his middle.
"I meant awful nice," he protested, fumbling for the apple so she couldn't try again.
"I'm sure," she said dryly. "Don't think I'm speaking to you."
"How could I make that mistake - especially since your lips are moving and I'm the only one within earshot?"
She snorted her contempt of this comment, and Douglass saved her from having to respond by seeking refuge under their favourite tree. "They're your children," he said, as he sat. "Theodore's being chased by Clarisse - though she did untie him after Ansis imprisoned him for insubordination, or failing to stop the enemy at the gates. One of the two. Sounded so much like his grandfather that I did a double-take. Are you going to eat that apple, Alan?"
Alan tossed it to him. "It might be a bit bruised," he informed Douglass, with a pointed look to Maura. "My wife was using me for target practise."
"Good girl," Douglass said happily. "Excellent use of resources, though you did learn from the best."
"No, Douglass, she learned from you," Alan said wickedly, getting to his feet. "Here comes my girl! I hear you've been wreaking havoc as usual."
Clarisse jumped into her father's waiting arms, too big to be carried, but Alan had never been able to refuse her anything. "Not true," she replied, sliding her thumb into her mouth.
Alan laid her carefully down on the rug, brushing a hand over her hair as her eyes fluttered shut. Maura leaned back on her hands, watching her youngest fall asleep, thinking - now that the immediate danger to her fief was right before her eyes - that everything was quite perfect.
Rating: PG
Summary: Never a quiet moment in Dunlath. Part of my 'Family Matters' series with Lisa - and written for her birthday. I hope you enjoy it
--
It was remarkable, really, how much the sound of laughter could change a fief. Dunlath had always been beautiful to Maura, but it seemed to come alive with the sound of her children's laughter ringing through it.
The laughter was not long for this world, though, and shortly turned to shrieks of rage.
"They're your children," she told Alan sleepily, not wanting to move from their picnic blanket - though she wasn't entirely sure how much of a picnic a feast of apples constituted.
Alan listened for a moment, and shook his head. "Those are hellions, love. Nothing to do with me."
She chuckled, pulling a face at him. "I'll remind you of that when it's feeding time."
He yawned, stretching out on the blanket. "Let Douglass earn his keep. He's got Lord Theodore for back-up. Assuming Clarisse isn't attempting to dissect him, again."
Maura curled up next to him, smiling at the memory. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rilla and Julian, taking up camp in sight of their parents, in the hope that would afford them some protection. It worked more often than it didn't, though Maura had the suspicion that it wouldn't work today, since Theodore was being visited by a page friend, and it was almost inevitable that Clarisse would get bored.
"If she does, you'll be the one to replace him this time. I'm still not impressed that you held me responsible for our Theodore feeding him to the dogs." Theodore was in turns fascinated and repulsed by the bear he'd been named after - and, unfortunately for Lord Theodore, Clarisse's moods echoed her favourite brother's.
"You're a cruel woman," Alan protested half-heartedly. Somewhere off in the distance, there were screams as Clarisse was chased out of the orchards, pursued by Lord Theodore (and followed by Douglass). "There, sounds like Douglass has everything under control, as usual."
Feeling suddenly nervous, Maura sat up, scanning the distance. "Do you think those were good screams or bad screams?"
Alan groaned. "Yes."
Having been married to Alan long enough to know that he would not give her a more satisfying answer, Maura shielded her eyes from the hot August sun, and continued to try and pick figures out. "Ansis has given up already," she said, a note of surprise in her voice. "Clarisse - oh, not Rilla's dress again, Clarisse!"
Stifled laughter came from her side, and Maura could not help her own mouth quivering. Rilla had been told she suited light colours, and tended to favour white where she was allowed it for some unfathomable reason. Clarisse tended to favour mud where she was allowed it, and the two often clashed unhappily.
"Rilla's off to change," Maura informed her husband, a note of surprise in her voice. Usually, Rilla would come to them to complain. They tried not to interfere in playtime too much, unless one of the children asked them to.
"I'm not surprised," Alan revealed, his eyes closed and hands behind his head, the picture of comfort. Maura reached for an apple thoughtfully. "It's the Cavall boy. She laughs at his jokes. Even the terrible one about Good King Wenceslas."
Maura's eyes settled on Ansis, who was now sitting next to Julian. "I laughed at that joke."
"I'm not surprised," Alan repeated. "You're awful."
She weighed the apple in her hand for a moment, and then threw it at his stomach. He gasped, winded, rolling over and clutching his middle.
"I meant awful nice," he protested, fumbling for the apple so she couldn't try again.
"I'm sure," she said dryly. "Don't think I'm speaking to you."
"How could I make that mistake - especially since your lips are moving and I'm the only one within earshot?"
She snorted her contempt of this comment, and Douglass saved her from having to respond by seeking refuge under their favourite tree. "They're your children," he said, as he sat. "Theodore's being chased by Clarisse - though she did untie him after Ansis imprisoned him for insubordination, or failing to stop the enemy at the gates. One of the two. Sounded so much like his grandfather that I did a double-take. Are you going to eat that apple, Alan?"
Alan tossed it to him. "It might be a bit bruised," he informed Douglass, with a pointed look to Maura. "My wife was using me for target practise."
"Good girl," Douglass said happily. "Excellent use of resources, though you did learn from the best."
"No, Douglass, she learned from you," Alan said wickedly, getting to his feet. "Here comes my girl! I hear you've been wreaking havoc as usual."
Clarisse jumped into her father's waiting arms, too big to be carried, but Alan had never been able to refuse her anything. "Not true," she replied, sliding her thumb into her mouth.
Alan laid her carefully down on the rug, brushing a hand over her hair as her eyes fluttered shut. Maura leaned back on her hands, watching her youngest fall asleep, thinking - now that the immediate danger to her fief was right before her eyes - that everything was quite perfect.