Post by Alliecat on Aug 19, 2010 12:56:03 GMT 10
Title: Sufficient Chance
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1362
Summary: Sometimes the third one's the charm.
“Jesslaw!” Wyldon of Cavall waited a moment before calling again, this time even louder. “Jesslaw!” Shaking his head in frustration, he wandered over to a chair beside his wife.
“My god, where is the boy?” Wyldon muttered.
Lady Vivenne laid a hand on her husband’s arm and silenced the tapping of his fingers. “Calm down, dear,” she coaxed, “It’s been but a minute. He can’t fly, you understand.”
Wyldon sighed. “I do know, but he needs to recognize that he can never be late. A knight’s life, and perhaps those of others, depends on punctuality. It is their duty.”
Lady Vivenne laughed, a musical sound. “You and duty. Does it ever stop?” Pausing slightly, she shook her head. “I think we both know the answer to that. I’ve known you too long.”
Wyldon’s vision darkened. “Too long?”
Vivenne smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. I hope to know you for a long time to come. Dutifully,” she added with a smile.
A loud smack drew the couple’s attention away from each other. “Jesslaw!” Wyldon roared, glaring at his soaked squire, who was trapped beneath a table.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Owen babbled, “It’s just that my shoes were wet from the rain outside, and I slipped, and the table was there and I couldn’t stop.”
“A knight must be adept at all skills,” Wyldon began. “He must always be coordinated, even when-”
“Oh be quiet, Wyldon. The boy slipped. I did the same yesterday. It’s these old floors- they’re so worn down.” Smiling, she helped Owen up and replaced the table.
Owen bowed low. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, my lady,” he mumbled.
“That’s quite all right, squire. It’s been fixed already.” Raising an eyebrow at Wyldon, she continued, “But I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. I know who you are from Wyldon’s letters, of course, but are you not supposed to be teaching him manners, dear?”
Wyldon threw his wife a sharp glare, but followed her lead regardless. “Owen of Jesslaw, this is Lady Vivenne of Cavall.” Owen bowed again, and kissed the hand that Vivenne extended for him.
“I’m sure that I shall see plenty of you, Owen of Jesslaw, now that you and Lord Wyldon have returned.”
“I certainly hope so, my lady,” Owen said.
Wyldon coughed. “We should return to our lessons now. This disturbance has taken entirely too long.” Owen thought he heard a giggle, but when he looked back at Lady Vivenne she was entirely still.
The ball was about to start when Lord Wyldon and his squire arrived in Corus. “We need to get ready quickly,” Wyldon told Owen gruffly. “After all, the royal ball is the reason we are here.”
“Sir, are we really in Corus just for a ball?” Owen failed to contain his shock.
“I told you that, Jesslaw. Do you ever listen? We are here because King Jonathan requested our presence, because it is our duty.” Curtly he added, “Quickly, Jesslaw.”
After a quick stint in their own rooms, knight master and squire were in the ballroom. Almost instantaneously, Lady Vivenne of Cavall appeared before them. She offered her hand to Wyldon, who graciously took it and murmured, “It is good to see you, my love.”
Vivenne laughed and said, “And for me as well.” Smiling at Owen, she added, “It’s my pleasure to see you as well, squire. I’m glad to see that you are surviving.”
“I teach my students; I try not to break them,” Wyldon said.
Vivenne murmured something unintelligible and gave Wyldon a playful shove. “Could you go find me a drink?” she asked her husband. Wyldon looked at his squire as if he was going to demand that he retrieve the beverage, but Vivenne interrupted before he could speak. “I know you have a squire, dear. I also know that you have legs.”
Amused, Owen watched Vivenne point her husband in the direction of the wine. “He needs someone to keep him humble,” she explained once she turned around. “He pushes the pages and squires around, so I be sure to do the same for him.”
Vivenne asked Owen several questions about his and Wyldon’s mission to Scanra, but Wyldon returned shortly. After drinking two sips of her wine, Vivenne set the glass upon a table and offered Wyldon her hand. “It was lovely to see you again, squire,” she said before rising to her feet. Owen blushed slightly and retreated from Vivenne and her husband. He accepted a drink from a page, and watched the couple dance.
It had been two years since he had last seen Lady Vivenne, although Owen could see no change in either her physique or her demeanor. She’s incredibly beautiful, he realized, but was shocked at his thoughts. She was a married woman, his knight master’s wife. But yet there was something that drew him in, causing Owen to wish that he was in her arms instead.
Owen shook his head. He could not dance with Lady Vivenne. He was inept at dancing for one, but the true obstacle was the impossibility of a relationship. A dance would only lead to more longing for something he could never have.
Slowly, painfully, he tore himself away. He tried to entertain himself with a young court lady, but she held none of the appeal, the lust, he had felt for Lady Vivenne.
The ball ended not a second too soon. Wyldon escorted his squire to their temporary suite before disappearing. Owen knew that it had been simply an escort. His knight master was certainly not going to spend the night here, but with his wife.
Returning to Corus was always bittersweet. Court meant beds and proper cooking, but also the necessity to behave properly and dress uncomfortably. Most of all it meant that he had to be around people it hurt to see.
It did not take long before Owen encountered that particular problem. Later that night, when Owen was walking through the palace gardens, he encountered a slim figure that was illuminated by a lantern. The form sitting at the fountain turned at the sound of his footsteps, revealing its self to be Vivenne of Cavall.
Vivenne squinted, trying to see through the darkness. Suddenly she flashed a dazzling smile. “Is that you, Owen of Jesslaw?” she called, and motioned him over. Owen sat beside her on the fountain. “It is, my lady.”
“We haven’t seen each other in ages, have we?” She did not wait for an answer. “I have not seen you since your Ordeal, and I have not said a word to you since two years before that.”
“It has been a very long time indeed, Lady Vivenne. Too long, I think.”
“The last time I saw you, you were but a boy. You’re much more then that now.”
Owen bowed his head. “It has been six years since I last spoke with you. A lot has happened.”
“I can only imagine. You’ve been all across the realm, have you not?”
Owen nodded, swallowing. It was like being taunted, this talking with her. His feelings for this woman, this lust, for that is what it really was, had not faded in the least. Hidden over the years, perhaps, but not disappeared.
“Do you like knighthood?”
Owen smiled. “Very much so, my lady. I can not imagine anything jollier than hunting bandits.”
Shelaughed. “Call me Vivenne, please. I’m glad you feel so. We need something to keep us happy.”
“Vivenne,” he murmured, too low for her to hear. The name was melodious and beautiful, and perfect. Perhaps it was the taste of her name on his tongue that gave him confidence, for Owen said, “You must be very good at inspiring happiness, Vivenne.”
“Not as good as bandits must be, I gather.”
Owen gave a wicked grin. “I’m sure you’re much better.”
“Should we find out then?” she asked in a low voice, as she traced circles on the inside of Owen’s wrist.
“I would think so.”
“Let’s go somewhere more secluded,” she suggested.
Owen nodded and pulled Vivenne to her feet. “Anywhere in mind?”
“My rooms would be quite sufficient.”
“I could never agree more.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1362
Summary: Sometimes the third one's the charm.
:::
“Jesslaw!” Wyldon of Cavall waited a moment before calling again, this time even louder. “Jesslaw!” Shaking his head in frustration, he wandered over to a chair beside his wife.
“My god, where is the boy?” Wyldon muttered.
Lady Vivenne laid a hand on her husband’s arm and silenced the tapping of his fingers. “Calm down, dear,” she coaxed, “It’s been but a minute. He can’t fly, you understand.”
Wyldon sighed. “I do know, but he needs to recognize that he can never be late. A knight’s life, and perhaps those of others, depends on punctuality. It is their duty.”
Lady Vivenne laughed, a musical sound. “You and duty. Does it ever stop?” Pausing slightly, she shook her head. “I think we both know the answer to that. I’ve known you too long.”
Wyldon’s vision darkened. “Too long?”
Vivenne smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. I hope to know you for a long time to come. Dutifully,” she added with a smile.
A loud smack drew the couple’s attention away from each other. “Jesslaw!” Wyldon roared, glaring at his soaked squire, who was trapped beneath a table.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Owen babbled, “It’s just that my shoes were wet from the rain outside, and I slipped, and the table was there and I couldn’t stop.”
“A knight must be adept at all skills,” Wyldon began. “He must always be coordinated, even when-”
“Oh be quiet, Wyldon. The boy slipped. I did the same yesterday. It’s these old floors- they’re so worn down.” Smiling, she helped Owen up and replaced the table.
Owen bowed low. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, my lady,” he mumbled.
“That’s quite all right, squire. It’s been fixed already.” Raising an eyebrow at Wyldon, she continued, “But I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. I know who you are from Wyldon’s letters, of course, but are you not supposed to be teaching him manners, dear?”
Wyldon threw his wife a sharp glare, but followed her lead regardless. “Owen of Jesslaw, this is Lady Vivenne of Cavall.” Owen bowed again, and kissed the hand that Vivenne extended for him.
“I’m sure that I shall see plenty of you, Owen of Jesslaw, now that you and Lord Wyldon have returned.”
“I certainly hope so, my lady,” Owen said.
Wyldon coughed. “We should return to our lessons now. This disturbance has taken entirely too long.” Owen thought he heard a giggle, but when he looked back at Lady Vivenne she was entirely still.
:::
The ball was about to start when Lord Wyldon and his squire arrived in Corus. “We need to get ready quickly,” Wyldon told Owen gruffly. “After all, the royal ball is the reason we are here.”
“Sir, are we really in Corus just for a ball?” Owen failed to contain his shock.
“I told you that, Jesslaw. Do you ever listen? We are here because King Jonathan requested our presence, because it is our duty.” Curtly he added, “Quickly, Jesslaw.”
After a quick stint in their own rooms, knight master and squire were in the ballroom. Almost instantaneously, Lady Vivenne of Cavall appeared before them. She offered her hand to Wyldon, who graciously took it and murmured, “It is good to see you, my love.”
Vivenne laughed and said, “And for me as well.” Smiling at Owen, she added, “It’s my pleasure to see you as well, squire. I’m glad to see that you are surviving.”
“I teach my students; I try not to break them,” Wyldon said.
Vivenne murmured something unintelligible and gave Wyldon a playful shove. “Could you go find me a drink?” she asked her husband. Wyldon looked at his squire as if he was going to demand that he retrieve the beverage, but Vivenne interrupted before he could speak. “I know you have a squire, dear. I also know that you have legs.”
Amused, Owen watched Vivenne point her husband in the direction of the wine. “He needs someone to keep him humble,” she explained once she turned around. “He pushes the pages and squires around, so I be sure to do the same for him.”
Vivenne asked Owen several questions about his and Wyldon’s mission to Scanra, but Wyldon returned shortly. After drinking two sips of her wine, Vivenne set the glass upon a table and offered Wyldon her hand. “It was lovely to see you again, squire,” she said before rising to her feet. Owen blushed slightly and retreated from Vivenne and her husband. He accepted a drink from a page, and watched the couple dance.
It had been two years since he had last seen Lady Vivenne, although Owen could see no change in either her physique or her demeanor. She’s incredibly beautiful, he realized, but was shocked at his thoughts. She was a married woman, his knight master’s wife. But yet there was something that drew him in, causing Owen to wish that he was in her arms instead.
Owen shook his head. He could not dance with Lady Vivenne. He was inept at dancing for one, but the true obstacle was the impossibility of a relationship. A dance would only lead to more longing for something he could never have.
Slowly, painfully, he tore himself away. He tried to entertain himself with a young court lady, but she held none of the appeal, the lust, he had felt for Lady Vivenne.
The ball ended not a second too soon. Wyldon escorted his squire to their temporary suite before disappearing. Owen knew that it had been simply an escort. His knight master was certainly not going to spend the night here, but with his wife.
:::
Returning to Corus was always bittersweet. Court meant beds and proper cooking, but also the necessity to behave properly and dress uncomfortably. Most of all it meant that he had to be around people it hurt to see.
It did not take long before Owen encountered that particular problem. Later that night, when Owen was walking through the palace gardens, he encountered a slim figure that was illuminated by a lantern. The form sitting at the fountain turned at the sound of his footsteps, revealing its self to be Vivenne of Cavall.
Vivenne squinted, trying to see through the darkness. Suddenly she flashed a dazzling smile. “Is that you, Owen of Jesslaw?” she called, and motioned him over. Owen sat beside her on the fountain. “It is, my lady.”
“We haven’t seen each other in ages, have we?” She did not wait for an answer. “I have not seen you since your Ordeal, and I have not said a word to you since two years before that.”
“It has been a very long time indeed, Lady Vivenne. Too long, I think.”
“The last time I saw you, you were but a boy. You’re much more then that now.”
Owen bowed his head. “It has been six years since I last spoke with you. A lot has happened.”
“I can only imagine. You’ve been all across the realm, have you not?”
Owen nodded, swallowing. It was like being taunted, this talking with her. His feelings for this woman, this lust, for that is what it really was, had not faded in the least. Hidden over the years, perhaps, but not disappeared.
“Do you like knighthood?”
Owen smiled. “Very much so, my lady. I can not imagine anything jollier than hunting bandits.”
Shelaughed. “Call me Vivenne, please. I’m glad you feel so. We need something to keep us happy.”
“Vivenne,” he murmured, too low for her to hear. The name was melodious and beautiful, and perfect. Perhaps it was the taste of her name on his tongue that gave him confidence, for Owen said, “You must be very good at inspiring happiness, Vivenne.”
“Not as good as bandits must be, I gather.”
Owen gave a wicked grin. “I’m sure you’re much better.”
“Should we find out then?” she asked in a low voice, as she traced circles on the inside of Owen’s wrist.
“I would think so.”
“Let’s go somewhere more secluded,” she suggested.
Owen nodded and pulled Vivenne to her feet. “Anywhere in mind?”
“My rooms would be quite sufficient.”
“I could never agree more.”