Post by Rosie on Apr 19, 2009 18:34:18 GMT 10
Title: Convert at the Convent
Rating: PG
Summary: Douglass attends the Daughters of the Goddess Convent. Figured this might give me a push to write more of it.
--
It was one of those dares that had escalated.
After having received notice that his squire was misbehaving again, Gary had declared that this time Douglass would need to pay a forfeit.
Jonathan had suggested that he be made to dance with the Tusaine diplomat's wife - all evening.
Douglass had snorted, and replied that he was more feminine than the Tusaine diplomat's wife.
Smarting a little from the way that Padraig haMinch had spoken to him, Gary had answered that he could put on a dress and dance with the Tusaine diplomat himself in that case - all evening.
The idea had caught on quickly; Jon had winked at Gary, and suggested that Douglass should really train how to be a young lady first, and where better than the Daughters of the Goddess Convent? He'd have understood, though, if Douglass had felt that he couldn't go through with it.
Douglass had demanded payment.
--
The Daughter of the Goddess Convent was equipped to deal with many things. Atrocious singing, for instance, was easily confined to the music quarters. There was no need to ruin the hearing of every priestess, after all.
Poor sewing, also, was swiftly sorted out. The girls soon learned how to sew very neatly, or risked spending the whole night adding to a growing tapestry.
Flower-arranging was difficult to fail at, but Lady Gwynnen seemed to try her very hardest. She looked at a complete loss when it was explained to her that it was not customary to cut half the petals off, nor to stick flowers upside down in vases, nor to pick dead ones when the priestesses allowed you to pick your own.
The convent would survive Lady Gwynnen, however (though the tapestry probably would not).
Currently, the priestesses had a far more pressing problem, one they could not solve through the correct way to be seated or the best manner of letter-writing.
Currently, there was a man in the convent and, try as they might, nobody could get a girl to listen to a single word.
That was the problem, really. The “single” word. Single, available, and obtainable.
Well, if you ignored the fact that he’d brought his betrothed with him – which, the Head Priestess thought with a sigh, the girls were likely doing. They probably wouldn’t view him as a Lost Cause until he married, and some not even then.
--
“We cannot tell you how delighted we are to receive you here, Sir Gareth,” Priestess Mary gushed, taking her seat. “Ah, that is, you and Lady Dandelion, of course.” She spared the woman as courteous a glance as she thought she could manage before returning her attention to Gareth.
“I - we are delighted to be here,” Gareth said with a dashing smile.
“We do wish it was just a social call,” Lady Dandelion simpered. “Don’t we, breeze of my heart?”
Gareth looked a little flustered. Mary offered him a sympathetic smile, hoping the news wouldn’t be too bad. “Er. Yes, yes, we do.” He scratched his head, frowning. “My – my love, would you care to impart the information?”
“Are we tired out?” Dandelion asked with a smirk. “You must say when you’ve had enough – very delicate constitution, this one,” she informed the priestess, whose own constitution was beginning to feel a little weak.
“Fair Priestess, it pains me to do so, but I feel I must call in a favour that I believe you owe to my father. He would have written to confirm it, but considers it indelicate to commit such vulgar acts to paper.”
“Dear Dukey is such a wonderful man,” Dandelion sighed, fluttering her fan. “The epitome of knighthood, wouldn’t you say, star of my heavens?”
Gareth’s expression tensed briefly, but he smoothed it away with a smile. “Darling, would you care to wait outside? I wouldn’t want to sully your ears with tedious discussion when I know it bores you so.”
Dandelion raised her eyebrows at her betrothed, and exited, with a rather strange bow-curtsy hybrid.
“What an unusual woman,” Mary managed. She had a brief moment of relief and pride that they had not turned out a girl like this yet.
“I do believe there is no lady like her,” Gareth acknowledged. He looked up at her then, eyes so like his father’s that Mary’s breath caught in her throat. “Sister Mary, I hope you will allow me to speak openly. My beloved’s background does not befit her gentle and regal nature. I long to bring her to Court to be with me, but I am afraid that she would be overwhelmed without the proper preparation.”
The priestess did not like the way this was going.
“Your convent is respected, not only throughout the land, but over our borders as well. Would you consider, in your kindness, taking my betrothed under your wing? It need only be for a fortnight. I assure you, she is an extremely fast learner.”
Revealing she had yet to learn to knock, Dandelion burst back into the room. “Snowdrop, I just couldn’t bear to be separated from you for one more second. Is it settled?”
“Yes, dearest,” Gareth replied, to Mary’s horror. “I am afraid that I simply may not tarry here longer, though. Northern savages wait for no man, not even one as fortunate as I.”
Dandelion looked stricken. “You’re not leaving me, are you, lion to my dandy? I bet you should stay here. In fact, I would wager quite a high price (if ladies did such vulgar things) that you are meant to stay here.”
“You know as well as I do that if I do not leave now, I shall never leave,” Gareth replied, smiling fondly at his betrothed. “It simply isn’t proper for a man to be amongst such young, impressionable women. Two weeks, fairest in the land. I’ll be counting down the days.”
Rating: PG
Summary: Douglass attends the Daughters of the Goddess Convent. Figured this might give me a push to write more of it.
--
It was one of those dares that had escalated.
After having received notice that his squire was misbehaving again, Gary had declared that this time Douglass would need to pay a forfeit.
Jonathan had suggested that he be made to dance with the Tusaine diplomat's wife - all evening.
Douglass had snorted, and replied that he was more feminine than the Tusaine diplomat's wife.
Smarting a little from the way that Padraig haMinch had spoken to him, Gary had answered that he could put on a dress and dance with the Tusaine diplomat himself in that case - all evening.
The idea had caught on quickly; Jon had winked at Gary, and suggested that Douglass should really train how to be a young lady first, and where better than the Daughters of the Goddess Convent? He'd have understood, though, if Douglass had felt that he couldn't go through with it.
Douglass had demanded payment.
--
The Daughter of the Goddess Convent was equipped to deal with many things. Atrocious singing, for instance, was easily confined to the music quarters. There was no need to ruin the hearing of every priestess, after all.
Poor sewing, also, was swiftly sorted out. The girls soon learned how to sew very neatly, or risked spending the whole night adding to a growing tapestry.
Flower-arranging was difficult to fail at, but Lady Gwynnen seemed to try her very hardest. She looked at a complete loss when it was explained to her that it was not customary to cut half the petals off, nor to stick flowers upside down in vases, nor to pick dead ones when the priestesses allowed you to pick your own.
The convent would survive Lady Gwynnen, however (though the tapestry probably would not).
Currently, the priestesses had a far more pressing problem, one they could not solve through the correct way to be seated or the best manner of letter-writing.
Currently, there was a man in the convent and, try as they might, nobody could get a girl to listen to a single word.
That was the problem, really. The “single” word. Single, available, and obtainable.
Well, if you ignored the fact that he’d brought his betrothed with him – which, the Head Priestess thought with a sigh, the girls were likely doing. They probably wouldn’t view him as a Lost Cause until he married, and some not even then.
--
“We cannot tell you how delighted we are to receive you here, Sir Gareth,” Priestess Mary gushed, taking her seat. “Ah, that is, you and Lady Dandelion, of course.” She spared the woman as courteous a glance as she thought she could manage before returning her attention to Gareth.
“I - we are delighted to be here,” Gareth said with a dashing smile.
“We do wish it was just a social call,” Lady Dandelion simpered. “Don’t we, breeze of my heart?”
Gareth looked a little flustered. Mary offered him a sympathetic smile, hoping the news wouldn’t be too bad. “Er. Yes, yes, we do.” He scratched his head, frowning. “My – my love, would you care to impart the information?”
“Are we tired out?” Dandelion asked with a smirk. “You must say when you’ve had enough – very delicate constitution, this one,” she informed the priestess, whose own constitution was beginning to feel a little weak.
“Fair Priestess, it pains me to do so, but I feel I must call in a favour that I believe you owe to my father. He would have written to confirm it, but considers it indelicate to commit such vulgar acts to paper.”
“Dear Dukey is such a wonderful man,” Dandelion sighed, fluttering her fan. “The epitome of knighthood, wouldn’t you say, star of my heavens?”
Gareth’s expression tensed briefly, but he smoothed it away with a smile. “Darling, would you care to wait outside? I wouldn’t want to sully your ears with tedious discussion when I know it bores you so.”
Dandelion raised her eyebrows at her betrothed, and exited, with a rather strange bow-curtsy hybrid.
“What an unusual woman,” Mary managed. She had a brief moment of relief and pride that they had not turned out a girl like this yet.
“I do believe there is no lady like her,” Gareth acknowledged. He looked up at her then, eyes so like his father’s that Mary’s breath caught in her throat. “Sister Mary, I hope you will allow me to speak openly. My beloved’s background does not befit her gentle and regal nature. I long to bring her to Court to be with me, but I am afraid that she would be overwhelmed without the proper preparation.”
The priestess did not like the way this was going.
“Your convent is respected, not only throughout the land, but over our borders as well. Would you consider, in your kindness, taking my betrothed under your wing? It need only be for a fortnight. I assure you, she is an extremely fast learner.”
Revealing she had yet to learn to knock, Dandelion burst back into the room. “Snowdrop, I just couldn’t bear to be separated from you for one more second. Is it settled?”
“Yes, dearest,” Gareth replied, to Mary’s horror. “I am afraid that I simply may not tarry here longer, though. Northern savages wait for no man, not even one as fortunate as I.”
Dandelion looked stricken. “You’re not leaving me, are you, lion to my dandy? I bet you should stay here. In fact, I would wager quite a high price (if ladies did such vulgar things) that you are meant to stay here.”
“You know as well as I do that if I do not leave now, I shall never leave,” Gareth replied, smiling fondly at his betrothed. “It simply isn’t proper for a man to be amongst such young, impressionable women. Two weeks, fairest in the land. I’ll be counting down the days.”