Post by Lisa on Dec 14, 2009 9:42:58 GMT 10
Title: Planning Perfection
Advent Prompt # 4: Tradition
Rating: PG
Summary: Lady Vivenne helps Owen work up the courage to propose to Margarry.
Vivenne of Cavall was reading when a knock interrupted her afternoon; she sighed and answered the door, fully expecting to hear another earful from the Nond woman who had cornered her the evening before to complain that she had not seen her husband once over the last year. (“It is a time of war, Lady Palienam” she had replied calmly. “Be thankful that you are still receiving letters from him; many newly-made widows would trade their lives with yours.”)
She was surprised, however, to find Squire – no, Sir – Owen standing in the hall. “I assume you are looking for Wyldon – or perhaps Margarry?” she asked by way of greeting. “Neither are here, I’m afraid. Wyl is in a session with the king’s ministers and Margarry went to the menagerie with a friend.”
Owen’s face – always so open and honest – fell. “I suppose I should come back later.”
“Yes,” Vivenne agreed. “You could join us for supper tonight, if you would like.”
“That would be nice.” He clearly was not pleased with this option, judging by the manner in which his lips twisted into a frown.
“Come in and talk with me a bit,” Vivenne urged him. “It’s been a dreadfully boring afternoon, and I’d love to have someone to chat with for a spell.” She tugged on his arm gently, and he looked at her with a strange expression. She realized that she had seen her daughter tug on him in such a manner before; perhaps he was noting their similarities, and finding himself astonished to think that she had ever been a young and playful thing like Margarry.
“D-Daisy isn’t here?” Owen asked, using his nickname for the girl. “You’re quite certain?”
“I saw her leave myself,” Vivenne assured him. “Wyldon told me that you had requested her hand in marriage.”
Owen nodded uncomfortably, seating himself on one of the thickly upholstered chairs. “We discussed it on the way here from Cavall.”
“And you were planning to speak to Margarry today?”
He nodded. “I want to, but I don’t know how to begin.”
She smiled sympathetically. “I would assume that this is something you have been thinking about for some time.”
His eyebrows, the shape of question marks laid on their sides, furrowed slightly. “Yes and no, my lady. I suppose I thought of being able to ask her, and I’ve imagined her saying yes plenty of times – and I’ve even wondered what might happen if she said no – but I’ve never been able to conjure the right words.”
“You want it to be perfect, don’t you?” she asked, sitting next to him.
He nodded again.
“Let me tell you a secret,” she began. “When Wyldon proposed to me, it was not romantic in the least.”
“He told me that it was an arranged marriage.”
“It was more than that,” Vivenne replied. “I barely knew him. I had scarcely been outside of Meron – it was before I’d even gone to court. I was frightened out of my mind when my father told me that the offer had been made. And after we agreed to the marriage, Wyldon and I met in my father’s library. We had never been alone together before, and we had never had a conversation more personal than a discussion of falconry. But he took my hands, looked me in the eyes, and asked me if I would agree to marry him. It was not a romantic gesture, but a protective, comforting one. And looking back on it now, I would not have it any other way. The moment was perfect, because his very gesture – making sure I was in agreement with the marriage – was a promise of what my future would be like with him.
“No matter how you propose to my daughter, she will think it perfect. Because she loves you and wants to spend her life with you.”
Owen said nothing, contemplating her words.
“Do you have an engagement gift for her?” she asked. “Necklaces are the rage these days, though in my time it was rings.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t intend to propose to her yet. But I realized – when I was in the Chamber – that it might be my only time to do so. I would rather go back to war knowing that there’s something I need to finish at home. Knowing that I can’t die because my Daisy is waiting to marry me.”
“Sometimes we need these promises to get through the hardest times,” Vivenne said with a smile. She looked at her right hand, where a dainty pearl ring had rested for so many years. She slipped it off and studied it. “This ring was given to me as a promise – a promise that there were better years to come. A promise that I would be protected and cared for, loved even, in due time. I would like you to give this same promise to Margarry.”
She placed the ring in his palm, closing his fingers over it. “Can you keep the tradition? This ring has rested on the fingers of many women who married successfully into the Cavall clan, and I would like you to ensure that my little Cavall woman will be protected and loved even when she’s in Jesslaw.”
“I can do that,” Owen murmured. “I want to.” He studied the ring, a slight frown on his face. “Are you certain you don’t mind it leaving Cavall? Becoming part of a new tradition, possibly?”
Vivenne laughed. “There are no Cavall boys to bestow this upon their future wives, you might notice. I would rather give it to you.”
“And maybe someday Daisy can give it to a son or daughter of ours,” Owen said, a touch of awe in his voice.
“I would love that.” Vivenne stood and kissed his forehead. “And for now, you should think about how you will offer that ring to her.”
Advent Prompt # 4: Tradition
Rating: PG
Summary: Lady Vivenne helps Owen work up the courage to propose to Margarry.
Vivenne of Cavall was reading when a knock interrupted her afternoon; she sighed and answered the door, fully expecting to hear another earful from the Nond woman who had cornered her the evening before to complain that she had not seen her husband once over the last year. (“It is a time of war, Lady Palienam” she had replied calmly. “Be thankful that you are still receiving letters from him; many newly-made widows would trade their lives with yours.”)
She was surprised, however, to find Squire – no, Sir – Owen standing in the hall. “I assume you are looking for Wyldon – or perhaps Margarry?” she asked by way of greeting. “Neither are here, I’m afraid. Wyl is in a session with the king’s ministers and Margarry went to the menagerie with a friend.”
Owen’s face – always so open and honest – fell. “I suppose I should come back later.”
“Yes,” Vivenne agreed. “You could join us for supper tonight, if you would like.”
“That would be nice.” He clearly was not pleased with this option, judging by the manner in which his lips twisted into a frown.
“Come in and talk with me a bit,” Vivenne urged him. “It’s been a dreadfully boring afternoon, and I’d love to have someone to chat with for a spell.” She tugged on his arm gently, and he looked at her with a strange expression. She realized that she had seen her daughter tug on him in such a manner before; perhaps he was noting their similarities, and finding himself astonished to think that she had ever been a young and playful thing like Margarry.
“D-Daisy isn’t here?” Owen asked, using his nickname for the girl. “You’re quite certain?”
“I saw her leave myself,” Vivenne assured him. “Wyldon told me that you had requested her hand in marriage.”
Owen nodded uncomfortably, seating himself on one of the thickly upholstered chairs. “We discussed it on the way here from Cavall.”
“And you were planning to speak to Margarry today?”
He nodded. “I want to, but I don’t know how to begin.”
She smiled sympathetically. “I would assume that this is something you have been thinking about for some time.”
His eyebrows, the shape of question marks laid on their sides, furrowed slightly. “Yes and no, my lady. I suppose I thought of being able to ask her, and I’ve imagined her saying yes plenty of times – and I’ve even wondered what might happen if she said no – but I’ve never been able to conjure the right words.”
“You want it to be perfect, don’t you?” she asked, sitting next to him.
He nodded again.
“Let me tell you a secret,” she began. “When Wyldon proposed to me, it was not romantic in the least.”
“He told me that it was an arranged marriage.”
“It was more than that,” Vivenne replied. “I barely knew him. I had scarcely been outside of Meron – it was before I’d even gone to court. I was frightened out of my mind when my father told me that the offer had been made. And after we agreed to the marriage, Wyldon and I met in my father’s library. We had never been alone together before, and we had never had a conversation more personal than a discussion of falconry. But he took my hands, looked me in the eyes, and asked me if I would agree to marry him. It was not a romantic gesture, but a protective, comforting one. And looking back on it now, I would not have it any other way. The moment was perfect, because his very gesture – making sure I was in agreement with the marriage – was a promise of what my future would be like with him.
“No matter how you propose to my daughter, she will think it perfect. Because she loves you and wants to spend her life with you.”
Owen said nothing, contemplating her words.
“Do you have an engagement gift for her?” she asked. “Necklaces are the rage these days, though in my time it was rings.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t intend to propose to her yet. But I realized – when I was in the Chamber – that it might be my only time to do so. I would rather go back to war knowing that there’s something I need to finish at home. Knowing that I can’t die because my Daisy is waiting to marry me.”
“Sometimes we need these promises to get through the hardest times,” Vivenne said with a smile. She looked at her right hand, where a dainty pearl ring had rested for so many years. She slipped it off and studied it. “This ring was given to me as a promise – a promise that there were better years to come. A promise that I would be protected and cared for, loved even, in due time. I would like you to give this same promise to Margarry.”
She placed the ring in his palm, closing his fingers over it. “Can you keep the tradition? This ring has rested on the fingers of many women who married successfully into the Cavall clan, and I would like you to ensure that my little Cavall woman will be protected and loved even when she’s in Jesslaw.”
“I can do that,” Owen murmured. “I want to.” He studied the ring, a slight frown on his face. “Are you certain you don’t mind it leaving Cavall? Becoming part of a new tradition, possibly?”
Vivenne laughed. “There are no Cavall boys to bestow this upon their future wives, you might notice. I would rather give it to you.”
“And maybe someday Daisy can give it to a son or daughter of ours,” Owen said, a touch of awe in his voice.
“I would love that.” Vivenne stood and kissed his forehead. “And for now, you should think about how you will offer that ring to her.”