Post by Rosie on Aug 21, 2010 5:32:13 GMT 10
Title: Winter Honeysuckle
Rating: G
Summary: Sacherell takes a winter walk. Early-released birthday present for Lisa!
--
The days following Duke Roger's death were unlike any Sacherell had experienced at Court. He had envisaged wallowing in being knighted, but he had only had two days of glory before Alanna's revelations.
Everybody was suspicious of, well, everybody. Sacherell thought it must be worst for their group, who had known Alan the best, and yet not known him at all. Raoul in particular was like a bear with a sore head, continually batting Douglass away. In fairness, even Sacherell was beginning to be irritated by Douglass's jokes about Alan jousting like a girl.
He found himself wandering the palace grounds by himself, waiting to be assigned to some knightly duty. He wouldn't take on a squire; like Alanna, he just wanted to go and keep going. The palace he had known was tumbling around his ears. The King's nephew, planning treason? It made him sick to his stomach. Roger had taught them, and all the while, he had been doing his best to kill Jonathan.
"Flower for your thoughts?"
"Douglass, I'm not-" Sacherell stopped himself abruptly, realising it wasn't Douglass who had spoken.
Lady Gwynnen stood, twirling a white flower between her gloved fingertips, her lips twisted in a wry smile.
"Thoughts of Sir Douglass, I see. Well, I did ask." She extended the flower to him. "Here is your prize, good sir."
He waved it away, his brain having not quite caught up to the conversation. "I wasn't thinking of Douglass."
Gwynnen placed her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't the kind of lady he liked to be caught unawares by; she made his palms sweat, and his mind turn blank. "I hope you are not suggesting that I remind you of him. I spend rather less time on the practise courts, if you can believe it."
This was unchartered territory for Sacherell; the longest conversation he had managed to get through with Gwynnen without having to retire, tongue-tied. He cleared his throat, praying his good fortune would continue. "May I help you with something, my lady?"
"Certainly, good sir," she answered, tucking the flower into her hair. "I was hoping to find something to amuse me on my walk, and I feel happening upon you is serendipity. It is a knight's duty to take ladies on walks, you know. I trust you are planning to uphold the reputation of your fellow knights and lend me your arm?"
There was nothing for him to do, then, but extend his arm to her. He added a bow as a flourish, which caused her eyes to crinkle.
"Where did you get your flower from? I thought flowers slept through winter."
She laughed, and winked at him, leading him towards the Queen's Gardens. "I stole it," she confided. "Will you reprimand me for it, Sir Sacherell? I have no wish to be caught between yourself and your responsibility to the realm."
Sacherell snorted at her, beginning to find his feet in the conversation. "I think the realm would be willing to grant you a flower in repayment for-"
He broke off, having been about to compliment her, but losing his nerve at the last moment.
"For what?" Gwynnen asked, sounding delighted at having caught him out. "For lighting it up with my beauty? For my grace? My dance skills?"
"For your ice-skating!" he finished triumphantly, only to watch her face fall.
"In that case, I should take the entire wall's worth of winter's honeysuckle," she said lightly. "My fief freezes over if Scanra so much as sneezes - I could skate before I could walk. Here-"
She pulled him to a stop before a walled garden, with winter honeysuckle, like the one in her hair, climbing all over the wall facing them. "In here, there's a garden built for the Queen. Lady Cythera says she's been seeking solace in here the past few days, despite the cold. She's the only one with the key. I suppose she feels safe here, after what her nephew did."
A shiver passed through them, and though that had nothing to do with the slight breeze that had picked up, Sacherell noticed that she had pressed closer to him.
"If Sir Alanna hadn't-"
He shook his head. "Please, my lady, may we talk of something else?"
"Did you not know?" Gwynnen asked, curiously.
"Sir Gary knew, and the Prince knew." Sacherell shrugged. "I suppose the more people who knew, the higher the risk that she would be found out."
"But you were yourself, and it hurts that she kept something from you for eight years," she said shrewdly.
Sacherell rubbed his face with his free hand. "My squire years are over and done with, Lady Gwynnen. Squire Alanna made his - her own decisions."
"Well, that's me told," Gwynnen replied quietly. "I hope you won't hold a lady's curiosity against her. I meant well."
"I know," he answered, and he is surprised to find his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, my lady. I'm just not sure what to think of any of it at the moment."
They drew to a halt, having worked their way round to the front entrance to the palace. "Do you know what you need?" she asked, turning to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, though he couldn't tell whether that was a result of the wind or proximity to him. "Ice-skating."
"Ice-skating," he repeated.
"Exactly!" Gwynnen said triumphantly, as though his parroting of her words constituted acceptance. "Nothing clears your mind like ice-skating."
"My lady wants to see me fall over every five steps."
"She wouldn't mind." Gwynnen's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'll teach you. Clever boy like you, you'll pick it up in five minutes. Trust me."
He chuckled, running a gloved hand through his hair. "I think you sorely overestimate my abilities. I might take five days, rather than five minutes."
"Nonsense," Gwynnen said dismissively. She glanced around, drawing him off to the side, tucked behind a pillar. "If you like, I could give you some Midwinter luck?" Her cheeks were definitely red by this point. "It might mean you fall down less."
His mouth was very dry. "I don't believe in such superstitions."
She half-laughed, dropping his hands. "Sweet Goddess, you know how to dent a girl's confidence. I've had Kennan counting the days since Midsummer, just so he can ask for a kiss without fear of being turned down."
Sacherell shifted awkwardly, unsure how to proceed without humiliating either of them further.
"I'll be on the frozen pond in the morning," she said finally, tugging her gloves off as she prepared to head inside the palace. "If you want to learn how to skate, I'll expect you there bright and early, Wellam."
Rating: G
Summary: Sacherell takes a winter walk. Early-released birthday present for Lisa!
--
The days following Duke Roger's death were unlike any Sacherell had experienced at Court. He had envisaged wallowing in being knighted, but he had only had two days of glory before Alanna's revelations.
Everybody was suspicious of, well, everybody. Sacherell thought it must be worst for their group, who had known Alan the best, and yet not known him at all. Raoul in particular was like a bear with a sore head, continually batting Douglass away. In fairness, even Sacherell was beginning to be irritated by Douglass's jokes about Alan jousting like a girl.
He found himself wandering the palace grounds by himself, waiting to be assigned to some knightly duty. He wouldn't take on a squire; like Alanna, he just wanted to go and keep going. The palace he had known was tumbling around his ears. The King's nephew, planning treason? It made him sick to his stomach. Roger had taught them, and all the while, he had been doing his best to kill Jonathan.
"Flower for your thoughts?"
"Douglass, I'm not-" Sacherell stopped himself abruptly, realising it wasn't Douglass who had spoken.
Lady Gwynnen stood, twirling a white flower between her gloved fingertips, her lips twisted in a wry smile.
"Thoughts of Sir Douglass, I see. Well, I did ask." She extended the flower to him. "Here is your prize, good sir."
He waved it away, his brain having not quite caught up to the conversation. "I wasn't thinking of Douglass."
Gwynnen placed her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't the kind of lady he liked to be caught unawares by; she made his palms sweat, and his mind turn blank. "I hope you are not suggesting that I remind you of him. I spend rather less time on the practise courts, if you can believe it."
This was unchartered territory for Sacherell; the longest conversation he had managed to get through with Gwynnen without having to retire, tongue-tied. He cleared his throat, praying his good fortune would continue. "May I help you with something, my lady?"
"Certainly, good sir," she answered, tucking the flower into her hair. "I was hoping to find something to amuse me on my walk, and I feel happening upon you is serendipity. It is a knight's duty to take ladies on walks, you know. I trust you are planning to uphold the reputation of your fellow knights and lend me your arm?"
There was nothing for him to do, then, but extend his arm to her. He added a bow as a flourish, which caused her eyes to crinkle.
"Where did you get your flower from? I thought flowers slept through winter."
She laughed, and winked at him, leading him towards the Queen's Gardens. "I stole it," she confided. "Will you reprimand me for it, Sir Sacherell? I have no wish to be caught between yourself and your responsibility to the realm."
Sacherell snorted at her, beginning to find his feet in the conversation. "I think the realm would be willing to grant you a flower in repayment for-"
He broke off, having been about to compliment her, but losing his nerve at the last moment.
"For what?" Gwynnen asked, sounding delighted at having caught him out. "For lighting it up with my beauty? For my grace? My dance skills?"
"For your ice-skating!" he finished triumphantly, only to watch her face fall.
"In that case, I should take the entire wall's worth of winter's honeysuckle," she said lightly. "My fief freezes over if Scanra so much as sneezes - I could skate before I could walk. Here-"
She pulled him to a stop before a walled garden, with winter honeysuckle, like the one in her hair, climbing all over the wall facing them. "In here, there's a garden built for the Queen. Lady Cythera says she's been seeking solace in here the past few days, despite the cold. She's the only one with the key. I suppose she feels safe here, after what her nephew did."
A shiver passed through them, and though that had nothing to do with the slight breeze that had picked up, Sacherell noticed that she had pressed closer to him.
"If Sir Alanna hadn't-"
He shook his head. "Please, my lady, may we talk of something else?"
"Did you not know?" Gwynnen asked, curiously.
"Sir Gary knew, and the Prince knew." Sacherell shrugged. "I suppose the more people who knew, the higher the risk that she would be found out."
"But you were yourself, and it hurts that she kept something from you for eight years," she said shrewdly.
Sacherell rubbed his face with his free hand. "My squire years are over and done with, Lady Gwynnen. Squire Alanna made his - her own decisions."
"Well, that's me told," Gwynnen replied quietly. "I hope you won't hold a lady's curiosity against her. I meant well."
"I know," he answered, and he is surprised to find his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, my lady. I'm just not sure what to think of any of it at the moment."
They drew to a halt, having worked their way round to the front entrance to the palace. "Do you know what you need?" she asked, turning to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, though he couldn't tell whether that was a result of the wind or proximity to him. "Ice-skating."
"Ice-skating," he repeated.
"Exactly!" Gwynnen said triumphantly, as though his parroting of her words constituted acceptance. "Nothing clears your mind like ice-skating."
"My lady wants to see me fall over every five steps."
"She wouldn't mind." Gwynnen's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'll teach you. Clever boy like you, you'll pick it up in five minutes. Trust me."
He chuckled, running a gloved hand through his hair. "I think you sorely overestimate my abilities. I might take five days, rather than five minutes."
"Nonsense," Gwynnen said dismissively. She glanced around, drawing him off to the side, tucked behind a pillar. "If you like, I could give you some Midwinter luck?" Her cheeks were definitely red by this point. "It might mean you fall down less."
His mouth was very dry. "I don't believe in such superstitions."
She half-laughed, dropping his hands. "Sweet Goddess, you know how to dent a girl's confidence. I've had Kennan counting the days since Midsummer, just so he can ask for a kiss without fear of being turned down."
Sacherell shifted awkwardly, unsure how to proceed without humiliating either of them further.
"I'll be on the frozen pond in the morning," she said finally, tugging her gloves off as she prepared to head inside the palace. "If you want to learn how to skate, I'll expect you there bright and early, Wellam."