Post by mageprincess on Jun 26, 2010 0:47:53 GMT 10
Title: The Dancer and the Duke
Rating: G
Length: 891
Summary: Yazmin can't figure out why Duke Vedris has suddenly gotten so tongue tied around her.
Author's Notes: I've been writing a long time, but this is the first Tammy fic that I've finished, so I hope you enjoy.
Yasmín Hebét, retired dancer and current dance instructor in Summersea, Emelan, on the Pebbled Sea, couldn’t help but laugh at the gift sitting on the desk in her small office. It was small, but no doubt something subtly rich and expensive. She greatly appreciated the gifts, but in person, His Grace Duke Vedris IV had become much less eloquent in recent weeks, and she could not for the life of her figure out why.
Very carefully she opened the gift, gasping as she lifted the wrapping away from a beautiful pendant, a glittering emerald resting in a gold setting, and that hung in the hollow of her throat when she fastened the clasp on the gold chain around her neck. She suspected the duke had had quite bit of help from his darling niece when it came to his courtship gifts. She smiled as she thought of Sandry; the Duke was far less tongue tied on the days that the young lady joined them. This hadn’t helped recently, with the girl, now a young woman, really, Yasmín supposed, away in Namorn visiting her cousin the Empress Berenene with her brother and sisters. Clearly Vedris had become accomplished at picking his own gifts, with Sandrilene out of the country. Shame about his seeming inability to form coherent sentences of late. She simply could not understand the sudden, if somewhat endearing, change in the usually charming, eloquent, duke.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Wakumo stood there. “Yazmín, Pasco’s waiting for you.” He reminded her. From the dance studio she swore she heard Pasco mutter something under his breath that included the word “monster’. Smiling to herself, she left her office, determined to show Pasco Acalon the true meaning of the word monster.
When Pasco’s lesson ended, Yazmín found that the Duke was already waiting for her. He was usual, immaculately dressed, in clothing that Sandry was sure to have advised him on at some point. Yazmín suddenly realised just how long a courtship she had had with the Duke as she studied him. It had now spanned what was nigh on six years, and a wonderful six years it had been. The duke was still handsome for his age, and she herself, while no longer young, was certainly not past her prime. They enjoyed each other’s company, and they loved each other, which explained even less about the Duke’s recent strange behaviour. When he saw her, he smiled and bowed slightly, and Yazmín felt her heart flutter, as it always did, at the sight of him. She returned his smile with one of her own and a swift curtsey, then left quickly to change.
Two minutes later she was being escorted to their usual eating house, into their usual private room for a decadent midday meal. “Thank you for the pendant, it’s beautiful.” She murmured.
To her consternation, the Duke blushed and stammered. “I-I’m glad.” He replied, he seemed to be trying to pull himself together, but Yazmín had finally had enough. “What is going on with you lately?” she demanded. “I swear Vedris; you’ve been like this for weeks now! And I must say I’m becoming rather tired of the ‘bumbling idiot’ act. Now, for the love of Yanna Healtouch, what is going on?”
His Grace let out a frustrated sigh, and his hand went into his pocket. Silently, he slid a small box across the table, gesturing for her to open it. She did so, revealing a delicate, yet clearly costly diamond ring. “I’ve been trying to find the courage to give it to you for months.” He said quietly. “Yazmín, these last few years have seen me become the happiest I have been in a very, very long time, and I have you to credit for much of that.” He took another deep breath, and grinned lopsidedly, but it seemed the clumsy stuttering was finally done with. “I fear I am quite out of practice, but I must ask, Yazmín, will you marry me?”
Yazmín was silent for a long moment. “Is it really appropriate?” she asked, “I am a mere dancer, surely your family would not approve.”
She thought he would wilt, and take her comment as an outright refusal. Instead, he bristled. “The only members of my family whose opinions I value are Sandrilene’s, and Erdogun’s, and they have long since given their approval.” He smiled grimly, “And as far as my son is concerned, he is very nearly out of the will, so it hardly matters what he thinks anymore, since he still seems to think that he’s going to rule when I die, when it is quite obvious I’ll not settle for anyone but Sandry.” His smile turned rueful, “But I digress. Yazmín, I love you, and I want you to be my Duchess, for as long as you will have me.” Yazmín smiled brilliantly at him. “In that case, how could I possibly refuse, my love?” she asked. Vedris returned her grin as he rounded the table, and she kissed his cheek as he placed the ring on her finger.
“All this fuss for a ring?” she thought amusedly. “Who would’ve ever thought that that was all it took to get the great Duke Vedris to stutter like a schoolboy?” and she couldn’t help but laugh at her great fortune.
Rating: G
Length: 891
Summary: Yazmin can't figure out why Duke Vedris has suddenly gotten so tongue tied around her.
Author's Notes: I've been writing a long time, but this is the first Tammy fic that I've finished, so I hope you enjoy.
Yasmín Hebét, retired dancer and current dance instructor in Summersea, Emelan, on the Pebbled Sea, couldn’t help but laugh at the gift sitting on the desk in her small office. It was small, but no doubt something subtly rich and expensive. She greatly appreciated the gifts, but in person, His Grace Duke Vedris IV had become much less eloquent in recent weeks, and she could not for the life of her figure out why.
Very carefully she opened the gift, gasping as she lifted the wrapping away from a beautiful pendant, a glittering emerald resting in a gold setting, and that hung in the hollow of her throat when she fastened the clasp on the gold chain around her neck. She suspected the duke had had quite bit of help from his darling niece when it came to his courtship gifts. She smiled as she thought of Sandry; the Duke was far less tongue tied on the days that the young lady joined them. This hadn’t helped recently, with the girl, now a young woman, really, Yasmín supposed, away in Namorn visiting her cousin the Empress Berenene with her brother and sisters. Clearly Vedris had become accomplished at picking his own gifts, with Sandrilene out of the country. Shame about his seeming inability to form coherent sentences of late. She simply could not understand the sudden, if somewhat endearing, change in the usually charming, eloquent, duke.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Wakumo stood there. “Yazmín, Pasco’s waiting for you.” He reminded her. From the dance studio she swore she heard Pasco mutter something under his breath that included the word “monster’. Smiling to herself, she left her office, determined to show Pasco Acalon the true meaning of the word monster.
When Pasco’s lesson ended, Yazmín found that the Duke was already waiting for her. He was usual, immaculately dressed, in clothing that Sandry was sure to have advised him on at some point. Yazmín suddenly realised just how long a courtship she had had with the Duke as she studied him. It had now spanned what was nigh on six years, and a wonderful six years it had been. The duke was still handsome for his age, and she herself, while no longer young, was certainly not past her prime. They enjoyed each other’s company, and they loved each other, which explained even less about the Duke’s recent strange behaviour. When he saw her, he smiled and bowed slightly, and Yazmín felt her heart flutter, as it always did, at the sight of him. She returned his smile with one of her own and a swift curtsey, then left quickly to change.
Two minutes later she was being escorted to their usual eating house, into their usual private room for a decadent midday meal. “Thank you for the pendant, it’s beautiful.” She murmured.
To her consternation, the Duke blushed and stammered. “I-I’m glad.” He replied, he seemed to be trying to pull himself together, but Yazmín had finally had enough. “What is going on with you lately?” she demanded. “I swear Vedris; you’ve been like this for weeks now! And I must say I’m becoming rather tired of the ‘bumbling idiot’ act. Now, for the love of Yanna Healtouch, what is going on?”
His Grace let out a frustrated sigh, and his hand went into his pocket. Silently, he slid a small box across the table, gesturing for her to open it. She did so, revealing a delicate, yet clearly costly diamond ring. “I’ve been trying to find the courage to give it to you for months.” He said quietly. “Yazmín, these last few years have seen me become the happiest I have been in a very, very long time, and I have you to credit for much of that.” He took another deep breath, and grinned lopsidedly, but it seemed the clumsy stuttering was finally done with. “I fear I am quite out of practice, but I must ask, Yazmín, will you marry me?”
Yazmín was silent for a long moment. “Is it really appropriate?” she asked, “I am a mere dancer, surely your family would not approve.”
She thought he would wilt, and take her comment as an outright refusal. Instead, he bristled. “The only members of my family whose opinions I value are Sandrilene’s, and Erdogun’s, and they have long since given their approval.” He smiled grimly, “And as far as my son is concerned, he is very nearly out of the will, so it hardly matters what he thinks anymore, since he still seems to think that he’s going to rule when I die, when it is quite obvious I’ll not settle for anyone but Sandry.” His smile turned rueful, “But I digress. Yazmín, I love you, and I want you to be my Duchess, for as long as you will have me.” Yazmín smiled brilliantly at him. “In that case, how could I possibly refuse, my love?” she asked. Vedris returned her grin as he rounded the table, and she kissed his cheek as he placed the ring on her finger.
“All this fuss for a ring?” she thought amusedly. “Who would’ve ever thought that that was all it took to get the great Duke Vedris to stutter like a schoolboy?” and she couldn’t help but laugh at her great fortune.