Post by Verasque on Feb 20, 2010 14:16:10 GMT 10
Title: Steps
Rating: G
Length: 345
Competitor: Joren
Fight: 1/E
Summary: Kel is determined to be like the other boys, and pays the price.
"This is final," Lord Wyldon instructed, his voice firm. "Now, you must first bow to each other in greeting and courtesy, before taking up the position you were just taught. Queenscove, this is a dance, not a fencing tournament. Do you want to hit your partner, boy? Keep your arms by your sides."
Glancing beside her quickly, Kel felt rather than saw Neal's embarrassment. His face was a deep red -- whether out of nervousness or anger, she had no clue -- and before she could say anything to him, the first notes of the music began. Bowing, she counted to four seconds before raising herself upright, and moving, her feet glided in an awkward tumble. Somehow, she must have gotten it right, for there was no teacher reprimanding her, and cold, soft hands were gripping her own and resting upon her shoulder.
Kel, both dreadfully hating and smugly liking the fact that she had the loveliest of the court ladies as a dancing partner, nearly tripped over a jeweled slipper when she accidentally looked up into Lady Joren's face. The older girl's face was set austerely in annoyance, but there was an amused curiosity in her eyes that seemed to outshine the extraordinary waterfall of white silver curls that floated around her. But when Kel's own hazel orbs caught and froze in those chips of iolite blue, Lady Joren's expression clouded over with swift and haughty disapproval.
"These ladies have been kind and gracious enough to volunteer their aid to your lessons. The least most of you can do is to try and avoid stepping on their feet."
Frowning, Kel didn't think that her partner was being especially gracious. Lady Joren clearly knew the same. She even opened her pretty mouth and proved it. "I didn't offer to dance with a mere girl."
Bristling, Kel smoothed on her Yamani mask. Carefully encircling Lady Joren's wrist, Kel gripped onto it enough to leave bruises that wouldn't make themselves known for hours. "It's a good thing I'm not a mere girl, my lady. I'm a page."
Rating: G
Length: 345
Competitor: Joren
Fight: 1/E
Summary: Kel is determined to be like the other boys, and pays the price.
"This is final," Lord Wyldon instructed, his voice firm. "Now, you must first bow to each other in greeting and courtesy, before taking up the position you were just taught. Queenscove, this is a dance, not a fencing tournament. Do you want to hit your partner, boy? Keep your arms by your sides."
Glancing beside her quickly, Kel felt rather than saw Neal's embarrassment. His face was a deep red -- whether out of nervousness or anger, she had no clue -- and before she could say anything to him, the first notes of the music began. Bowing, she counted to four seconds before raising herself upright, and moving, her feet glided in an awkward tumble. Somehow, she must have gotten it right, for there was no teacher reprimanding her, and cold, soft hands were gripping her own and resting upon her shoulder.
Kel, both dreadfully hating and smugly liking the fact that she had the loveliest of the court ladies as a dancing partner, nearly tripped over a jeweled slipper when she accidentally looked up into Lady Joren's face. The older girl's face was set austerely in annoyance, but there was an amused curiosity in her eyes that seemed to outshine the extraordinary waterfall of white silver curls that floated around her. But when Kel's own hazel orbs caught and froze in those chips of iolite blue, Lady Joren's expression clouded over with swift and haughty disapproval.
"These ladies have been kind and gracious enough to volunteer their aid to your lessons. The least most of you can do is to try and avoid stepping on their feet."
Frowning, Kel didn't think that her partner was being especially gracious. Lady Joren clearly knew the same. She even opened her pretty mouth and proved it. "I didn't offer to dance with a mere girl."
Bristling, Kel smoothed on her Yamani mask. Carefully encircling Lady Joren's wrist, Kel gripped onto it enough to leave bruises that wouldn't make themselves known for hours. "It's a good thing I'm not a mere girl, my lady. I'm a page."