Post by Lisa on Oct 5, 2010 10:51:56 GMT 10
Title: Like Mother, Like Daughter
Rating: G
Summary: Lady Amiliane is looking for a nursemaid; Pirisi is looking for a new life.
Kat's Character Challenge #1: Amiliane fa Landreg/Toren
Note: Kat and I are in a mini-character challenge, and this is the first one she assigned me. So, this one's for her!
“We want someone who’s willing to travel,” Lady Amiliane fa Toren said, her voice whispery, delicate and unattached – and as far from the ruling house of Emelan as Pirisi had ever heard. The Duke and his family all had rich, velvety voices that carried ideas of fealty and command in them. This pale lady, married to the Duke’s favorite nephew, seemed as opposite from everything in Emelan as one could be.
She was from Namorn, everyone said. It was a strange empire to the north that Pirisi remembered from her childhood with the Tsaw’ha, travelling from town to town, trading their wares.
“I’m sure you’re well-traveled, being a Trader.”
“Yes, milady,” Pirisi answered, raising her bowed head. “I’ve been in every country surrounding the Pebbled Sea, and plenty beyond, and know the languages. Except Olart.”
Lady Amiliane shrugged, her gossamer shawl slipping from her narrow shoulders. “I’ve no love of Olart, so it’s unlikely we’d travel there. Do you have your own children?”
Pirisi nodded. “I’ve two, milady. A daughter and son.”
“Younger than my Sandry?”
Sandrilene fa Toren was a girl of nearly three. She didn’t hide behind her mother’s skirts, like so many little girls. She ignored them, running her hands over the velvet cloth of the settee. “Mine are a bit older,” Pirisi said. “Ten and six.”
“What of their father?” Lady Amiliane’s gaze was direct, and an incredibly vivid blue that seemed, to Pirisi, that it would pierce through any dissembling.
“I’ve left him, milady,” she answered, lifting her chin defiantly. “He wasn’t as kind a man as I once thought.”
The genteel lady stood, her hands balled in fists. “Did he hurt you, Pirisi?” The breathiness in her voice was gone, replaced with steel.
“Not with his hands,” she answered. “He found another woman to lie with, that’s all.”
“Is he a Trader, as well?”
Pirisi nodded. “We left our caravan together, because he wanted to try life as a merchant. Our families weren’t happy about it.”
“Did they cast you out?”
She shook her head. “No. But I wouldn’t not be as welcome with them now as I would like.”
“Then you must come with us,” Lady Amiliane decided, taking the Trader’s hands in her own. Her palms were as soft as the inside of Pirisi’s wrists, and her jewelry bit into Pirisi’s flesh. “Your children can travel with us, or we’ll pay to have them sent to school.”
“My daughter is beginning her apprenticeship, my lady,” Pirisi murmured, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of feeling from this woman who’d been relatively stand-offish before. “But I would love to bring my boy with us, unless he would like to stay with his father.”
Lady Amiliane sniffed indignantly, drawing attention to her snub nose. She didn’t think much of a man who spent his time with a woman other than his wife, clearly. “Sandry, I’d like you to meet someone,” she said, turning to face her daughter.
The little girl held her hands up, insisting that her mother carry her in her arms. Lady Amiliane complied, smiling warmly at her daughter as she carried her over to meet Pirisi.
“Pirisi is going to be traveling with us,” she told her little girl. “She’s Tsaw’ha, I believe they call it. And she’ll take care of you whenever your father or I are occupied.”
“She’s a lovely person,” Pirisi said, holding her hand out to the small girl. Sandriline – Sandry – smiled and grabbed her hand. With her other fist she bunched up the fabric of her mother’s shawl.
“Stop that,” Amaliane chastised, though her voice was still gentle and soft. “I have a luncheon with the duke, and can’t have rumpled clothing.”
Pirisi couldn’t help but notice that the fabric fell smooth and unwrinkled from the little girl’s grasp. Perhaps even smoother than it had been before.
“Lord Matten would like to leave within the week,” Amaliane said, her blue eyes fixed on Pirisi again. “Will you be ready to join us so soon?”
“Yes’m.” She curtseyed deeply, and was dismissed. She didn’t know what she was getting into, but she liked that the lady was so quick to defend someone who suffered. And she had a feeling she would like the little girl even more.
Rating: G
Summary: Lady Amiliane is looking for a nursemaid; Pirisi is looking for a new life.
Kat's Character Challenge #1: Amiliane fa Landreg/Toren
Note: Kat and I are in a mini-character challenge, and this is the first one she assigned me. So, this one's for her!
“We want someone who’s willing to travel,” Lady Amiliane fa Toren said, her voice whispery, delicate and unattached – and as far from the ruling house of Emelan as Pirisi had ever heard. The Duke and his family all had rich, velvety voices that carried ideas of fealty and command in them. This pale lady, married to the Duke’s favorite nephew, seemed as opposite from everything in Emelan as one could be.
She was from Namorn, everyone said. It was a strange empire to the north that Pirisi remembered from her childhood with the Tsaw’ha, travelling from town to town, trading their wares.
“I’m sure you’re well-traveled, being a Trader.”
“Yes, milady,” Pirisi answered, raising her bowed head. “I’ve been in every country surrounding the Pebbled Sea, and plenty beyond, and know the languages. Except Olart.”
Lady Amiliane shrugged, her gossamer shawl slipping from her narrow shoulders. “I’ve no love of Olart, so it’s unlikely we’d travel there. Do you have your own children?”
Pirisi nodded. “I’ve two, milady. A daughter and son.”
“Younger than my Sandry?”
Sandrilene fa Toren was a girl of nearly three. She didn’t hide behind her mother’s skirts, like so many little girls. She ignored them, running her hands over the velvet cloth of the settee. “Mine are a bit older,” Pirisi said. “Ten and six.”
“What of their father?” Lady Amiliane’s gaze was direct, and an incredibly vivid blue that seemed, to Pirisi, that it would pierce through any dissembling.
“I’ve left him, milady,” she answered, lifting her chin defiantly. “He wasn’t as kind a man as I once thought.”
The genteel lady stood, her hands balled in fists. “Did he hurt you, Pirisi?” The breathiness in her voice was gone, replaced with steel.
“Not with his hands,” she answered. “He found another woman to lie with, that’s all.”
“Is he a Trader, as well?”
Pirisi nodded. “We left our caravan together, because he wanted to try life as a merchant. Our families weren’t happy about it.”
“Did they cast you out?”
She shook her head. “No. But I wouldn’t not be as welcome with them now as I would like.”
“Then you must come with us,” Lady Amiliane decided, taking the Trader’s hands in her own. Her palms were as soft as the inside of Pirisi’s wrists, and her jewelry bit into Pirisi’s flesh. “Your children can travel with us, or we’ll pay to have them sent to school.”
“My daughter is beginning her apprenticeship, my lady,” Pirisi murmured, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of feeling from this woman who’d been relatively stand-offish before. “But I would love to bring my boy with us, unless he would like to stay with his father.”
Lady Amiliane sniffed indignantly, drawing attention to her snub nose. She didn’t think much of a man who spent his time with a woman other than his wife, clearly. “Sandry, I’d like you to meet someone,” she said, turning to face her daughter.
The little girl held her hands up, insisting that her mother carry her in her arms. Lady Amiliane complied, smiling warmly at her daughter as she carried her over to meet Pirisi.
“Pirisi is going to be traveling with us,” she told her little girl. “She’s Tsaw’ha, I believe they call it. And she’ll take care of you whenever your father or I are occupied.”
“She’s a lovely person,” Pirisi said, holding her hand out to the small girl. Sandriline – Sandry – smiled and grabbed her hand. With her other fist she bunched up the fabric of her mother’s shawl.
“Stop that,” Amaliane chastised, though her voice was still gentle and soft. “I have a luncheon with the duke, and can’t have rumpled clothing.”
Pirisi couldn’t help but notice that the fabric fell smooth and unwrinkled from the little girl’s grasp. Perhaps even smoother than it had been before.
“Lord Matten would like to leave within the week,” Amaliane said, her blue eyes fixed on Pirisi again. “Will you be ready to join us so soon?”
“Yes’m.” She curtseyed deeply, and was dismissed. She didn’t know what she was getting into, but she liked that the lady was so quick to defend someone who suffered. And she had a feeling she would like the little girl even more.