Post by Tamari on Apr 17, 2012 9:35:10 GMT 10
Title: Dusk to Daybreak
Summary: Lerant is daybreak and Lianne is dusk, and somehow they'll find their way through the dark.
Rating: PG-13 (but light)
Warnings: Angst- lots and lots of it
Author's Notes: Hey, everyone! This is my multi-chapter. It's been up on FF.net for a while, and I edited chapters 1-8 with help from sesquipedalian and Eaglefire.
Hope you enjoy!
The late evening sun glints through the base of the Royal Forest, and two people stand by the gates to the city. A crowd of people on horseback spreads behind them (and the growing darkness obscures faces, obscures clothing, obscures everything).
The woman squeezes the man's hand, and they enter Corus.
That is how the story ends.
This is how it begins.
He is daybreak, a young man emerging from the gloom of a traitor's legacy. Resentful, but loyal (to the Crown in general and Raoul in particular)- he is not his aunt, and he wishes more people could see that. He is a soldier, isn't he, and a noble, and he deserves at least that much respect. He wishes people did not judge him by his family (Delia was a traitor, but he is not).
She is dusk, a young woman pulling apart from her family and falling into the blackness of uncertainty. She knows her duty, oh her duty (of course she does, of course, she's been told all her life, and she's not Kalasin, to have her own dreams), but sometimes she imagines she is someone else, somewhere else, anything. She wishes people did not judge her by her family (her father wanted to be king, but she never asked to be a princess).
They are not so different- they are not night and day, they are sunrise and sunset, they are Lerant and Lianne.
He knows of her, obviously, everyone knows the Contes (they are the royal family, after all), and he has seen her (during parades and at balls and all those noble gatherings he is snubbed during), but he has never talked to her. Most of the time he spent at court was before he joined the Own at eighteen, and she was just a child then, another black-haired royal child to be fawned over, fussed over, coddled, indulged.
She knows of him only distantly- a mention or two by Roald's friend Keladry of Mindelan (you know the one, the one Kally was feverishly jealous of, the one who became a knight) of the standard-bearer when Kel was Uncle Raoul's squire. Although Kel says that they didn't get along, she speaks well of him. He is bitterbitterbitter, she says, but he has a right to be.
It is entirely chance when they meet. Third Company is back in Corus for Midwinter and Raoul gives them some time off. It is 462, over a year since Mindelan rescued the refugees and became the "Protector of the Small". He is still the standard-bearer, and has not been promoted in the Own (although he fights just as well as Sergeant Dom, he is not a leader) and this does not grant him any more respect. He is an Eldorne (hatedtraitorlockedaway) and twenty-three years has not been kind to people's memories.
He has gone down to the Jugged Hare for ale. Many nobles turn their noses up at pubs in the city, with the commoners, but he likes the anonymity, where he can drown in drink in peace. He is sitting at a table (not exactly alone- his self-pity takes up two chairs on its own) when the door opens. This is not unusual, for it is supper-hour, and the pub is crowded, but the woman who walks in has a nervous gait- looking around as if she shouldn't be there. Her eyes lock on his (his plain brown eyes under plain blond-brown bangs) and she walks over to him, alone-but-not-alone with his ale.
"You don't mind, do you?" she gestures to a chair and he shrugs, taking another swig of drink and looking at her. She is dressed simply but in cloth that does not belong here in a common tavern, and her hair (although unadorned by noblewoman standards, with no pearlsdiamondsgems) is styled much too carefully for her to be a commoner.
"Sorry," she takes a seat, sweeping her skirts in front of her in a way that would immediately discount her as a peasant, if he didn't already know she couldn't be, "I'm kind of-" she hesitates, her sapphire eyes flickering up and down his body in breeches and tunic, judging him (he squirms slightly).
"Kind of hiding from someone," she laughs nervously and smoothes her skirts, and he wonders vaguely who she is. There is a pause, and she is looking at him with those searching sapphire eyes, and oh he's supposed to say something here, isn't he?
"You want a drink?" he says, and her eyebrows go up under her black hair- was that the wrong thing to say? He doesn't talk to women, much- but "Yes, sure," she replies, and flags down the bartender, who gives her a strange look (women who look like her don't come in the pub often) but brings her an ale.
There is a silence, and it is a little awkward but not too bad, and he notices (rather detachedly, he is getting a little tipsy) that she is a very ladylike drinker, all sips and delicate fingers.
"Who are you hiding from?" he asks, and she glances up- maybe that was too personal? Is she going to leave? But she just sighs and looks away.
"My family," she says, "they-they are very protective of me."
"Oh," he wishes he knew what to say (Dom would know, he thinks, Dom is good with the ladies, but Dom is happily dating Mindelan and isn't even at the pub anyway). "Sorry."
"That's okay," she says, "that's okay. It's selfish, really, isn't it? All they want to do is protect me- I mean, everyone else here has bigger problems, I bet, but here I am feeling sorry for myself."
He is a little taken aback, but her words are true enough, lots of people have it much worse off than her (and him, for that matter) and now he feels guilty, Mithros curse it, for being so depressed.
"Everyone feels sorry for themselves sometimes," he tells her, taking another drink, "I do, I know. Even though my family wouldn't give a copper bit what happens to me." There is only a little liquid left now, and it is getting late, and he should probably head home soon (not homehome, but where he stays in the palace, much to everyone's disgust- he is an Eldorne, doesn't he know he's not welcome?) but he doesn't want to leave this interesting girl with the dark hair and true words, even if she makes him feel guilty. So they sit in silence for a while, and it's not too awkward.
"I should go, they'll be wondering where I am," she says around dusk, when the sky darkens and those with respectable business start to leave the streets (the city is dangerous for those unprepared for it) but maybe she doesn't want to go.
Maybe she wants to stay and talk to the young man with the snub nose and haunted eyes (she wonders if he is in the army, with those eyes, the ones she sees on Aunt Alanna and her brothers and her own father, those eyes that have seen things nobody should see). So she doesn't make a move to get up, and they sit.
She has never been to a tavern on her own before, and she's so glad to have a companion (although maybe that defeats the purpose of taking time alone to clear her head) albeit a quiet, slightly sulky one.
He hasn't asked who she is, and she is so very grateful. It has been so nice (so nicenicenice) to be herself for a while, which sounds ridiculous, because she is always herself, but it is amazing and exhilarating and breathtakingly amazing to just be Lianne (not Princess Lianne, Her Royal Highness, the middle princess, the one that will have to be married off soon).
She hasn't asked him who he is either, although she guesses he is a commoner (he is dressed plainly, after all, and he is in this pub- but so is she, and he doesn't act like commoners usually do, base and a little bit crude). She finds herself wishing futilely she could get to know this young man better. It would be nice (so nicenicenice) to have a friend who could speak to her (Lianne), look at her (Lianne), see her (Lianne) and not be a princess. She doesn't want to be a princess, sometimes. She wants to be herself.
But she knows as well as anyone that a princess could not, could definitely not have a friend like that. Rumors start as quickly as wildfire after all, and no one would have her (none of those stuffy old foreign kings and princes and dukes) if they didn't believe in her virtue. Her parents apologize (we're so sorry, Lianne, but you are a princess, and duty-)
And duty always comes first, her duty to the people and the crown. It's not like she could fall in love, anyway, because she is perfectmodestpolitedutiful Lianne, and that's not like her. Kally was the one with dreams, and see how that ended. Vania is the one who flirts, for all she knows it's not serious, can never be serious, and for all she's only sixteen. Lianne is just Lianne, the perfectmodestpolitedutiful princess, who always does what she's told.
So she doesn't go, and he doesn't go, and they sit for a while longer and don't talk much except to say "Want another drink?" or "It's getting late", but they're not alone.
Eventually it is very late, late even for a single young man out at a tavern, and he exhales sharply and stands. She looks at him, her mouth twisted wryly as he offers her his hand and she stands (not-so-gracefully, since she doesn't usually drink so much).
"Do you need a walk home?" he asks her, and he doesn't mean to be forward, he is worried about a young woman in Corus (not the best part of the city, either) and luckily she doesn't take it that way, and smiles, and her eyes crinkle.
"No, I'll be alright," she answers (although he doesn't know it, she can take care of herself- Uncle George made sure of it, just in case) and he nods slowly. He holds open the door for her and they stand out in the dark for a moment.
It is cold but there is no snow, just mud, and there are no stars shining overhead because it is a cloudy night, and it is not a romantic setting at all, and he doesn't even know who she is, just that she has an overprotective family and is probably rich and has sapphire eyes that crinkle when she smiles.
But something comes over him and he leans toward her (what are you doing, Lerant? stopstopstopstopnow) and her eyes widen and he feels her eyelashes brush his face just before their lips touch.
She pulls away after a moment and he swallows suddenly and steps back.
"Oh," she manages, and he doesn't need her apology, he knows what she'll say, he's been rejected enough, he turns to go-
"Wait," she says, and he freezes, and then her cold hand touches his arm, and he looks at her.
"I'm Lia." She smiles at him again with those crinkly eyes.
"I'm Lerant," he says. "Uh." And there is another silence, and this one is more awkward than the others.
"Can I see you again?" He asks, which sounds silly even to him, but she agrees immediately.
They make plans to meet next week, and she leaves him with a wistful glance and walks away.
Toward the palace where he has to go. He does not want to deal with the awkwardness of walking with her when he already said good-bye, so he just stands in the cold for a moment. As far as he can tell, she is still heading in that direction, although it is very dark, so he could be wrong (Where does she live? Is she a noblewoman staying at the palace? Or was he wrong and she is just a rich merchant's daughter?) So he sighs and goes back into the pub, which is open all night long during Midwinter.
"Another drink," he tells the bartender, and goes back to the table, and he is alone when the sun rises and the day breaks.
Angry is an understatement.
Her parents are furiousfumingenragedlivid with her (where have you been, what were you thinking, oh Lianne, you could have been killed or kidnapped, you are a princess, or did you forget? As if she possibly could) but she doesn't care, much. She keeps her mouth shut.
Lianne wanders the palace in a daze, a haze, her feet absentmindedly carrying her to meals, to bed, to the practice courts. Any daughter of Thayet and Jon's must know how to shoot a bow and wield a sword at least decently, though Kally was so much better at it, at everything, really. Kally with her determined chin and challenging eyes and her dreams. Lianne wonders if it is worth it to have dreams, since they don't come true (maybe for people like Alanna, but not for a princess whose first duty will always be to her country).
Roald notices that something is wrong (or right?) with Lianne, but he is busy with his pregnant wife, Princess Shinkokami, who will give birth to the heir to the throne (and don't forget Lianne, the throne will always be the most important thing in your life and everyone else's, never mind that you are the middle princess and you are useless to it). He doesn't have much time even for Lianne, who of all his siblings he is closest to. They are the most similar, Roald and Lianne, with soft voices and logical heads and polite tongues, always thinking of their duty (Lianne wonders if Roald ever had dreams, if he really wanted to be a knight, but it doesn't matter because it doesn't matter what they want, remember dutydutyduty).
So Lianne wanders, and wonders, and a week passes quickly. The Midwinter celebrations are coming up soon, but that is nothing compared with seeing Lerant again. There's no way she'll be allowed out again but she grew up with Aly, by the Goddess, and she will find a way.
She does, early on the day they are to meet. Lianne's Gift is trained, although it isn't very strong at most things (healing is what she's best at, but she rarely has a chance to use it when she's not with the Riders). It is a huge effort to cloak herself in illusion to leave, but she pulls it off (staying far, far away from the mage-infested areas of the palace) and slips into the city. Once she's there, she's just another woman out bartering for bread, in a plain wool gown and a hood over her dark hair.
She realizes around Unicorn District that he never said where or when she was to meet him. The Jugged Hare is as good a place to wait as any (oh Lianne, you never think ahead, stupidstupidstupid) so she leans casually against the pub and tries to blend in.
Lerant has no idea what he is thinking. Meeting a woman he barely knows at a time and place he has no clue of? He is never like this, he never does things like this, but he's stuck and he doesn't mind all that much. He goes down to the pub where they met a few hours after dawn to wait for her (but he reminds himself not to drink, what kind of an impression does it make to show up to meet a woman drunk? Never mind how they met) and he sees her.
She sticks out like a lame horse and he has to fight laughter at the sight of her trying to fit in with passerby, awkwardly leaning against a wall. She's dressed well enough, much more plainly than last he saw her, but something about her screams that she does not belong here in the dust and clamor of the city. She carries herself like someone who knows her place in the world, and it is not here.
He wonders how he can see all these things in the woman he has only met once, but there isn't time to ponder because she sees him and (inexplicably) her whole face lights up. He is taken aback (no one has been happy to see him for a longlonglong time).
"Good morning!" she says, and smiles at him.
"Morning," he says, "Er, you're here early, Lia."
She snorts (very unladylike, but it doesn't bother him) and quirks her eyebrows at him. "You're here too, aren't you?"
He flushes and she shakes her head with her smile still intact. "Oh Lerant," she sighs, and pats his shoulder (pats him, like he's a dog!) but he can't muster up indignation at her with her wide sapphire eyes and her smile.
There is a pause and he's not quite sure what to say. Agreeing to meet is one thing but he didn't think about what they'd do, but luckily she did.
"There are lovely gardens in Prettybone District, even through the winter," she tells him, and he's surprised that she knows so much about Corus (he has decided that she must be a noblewoman, albeit one with strange habits). "Care to go for a walk...?" she trails off, looking at his face. Oh right, he should respond. That's what people do.
"That sounds wonderful," he says, trying to regain his composure but keep his bitterness buried. Something about her throws him off, like a tree branch in the trail, but it's not bad, necessarily.
They walk and idly chat about the weather, about the traffic in Corus, about the upcoming Midwinter celebrations in the city (he doesn't mention that he'll be attending the palace ball, as a nobleman, and she makes no comment about her own plans) and when they arrive at the public gardens, one of King Jonathan's renovations to the city, he is relatively comfortable.
The gardens are beautiful, even in winter, and Lianne admires the view as she sneaks glances at the man walking beside her. She's still unsure of who exactly he is, but it doesn't matter because someone is listening to her (!). No, it's not anything important (her opinion on her father's new tax makes no difference either way- princess she may be, but an influence she is not) but someone cares what Lianne thinks, and he doesn't even know she's perfectpolitemodestdutiful princess Lianne, just that she is a person and that is enough.
Time passes differently when she talks to him and neither notices when midday passes. Day ends early during winter and the sky is darkening when Lianne feels at ease enough to ask him about his family.
He stiffens immediately. "We don't get along," he says, in a voice many degrees colder than before.
"Oh," she winces, "That's too bad." She feels awful for bringing up what is evidently a sore subject for him and doesn't know quite what to say (I told you that you don't know what you're doing, Lianne, you're such a fool). "My family and I get along okay, but I don't really like to talk about them either. People judge by family, you know? And I'm not my family, I'm me."
He gapes at her (oh Goddess, that was too much, he's going to give her a strange look and leave) but then he breaks into laughter (what is going on?).
"Oh, Lia," he gasps through chuckles, "Where have you been all my life?" and he looks up at her and this is right.
They make plans to see each other again after Midwinter festivities are over- she argues but he reminds her that Midwinter is a time for family (at which she scowls and pushes his shoulder as he snorts). She knows this is a horrible idea and it can't end well (what is she doing, perfectpolitemodestdutiful princesses don't fall in love, they marry the Marenite or Gallan or Copper Islander nobleman that their father picks) but Lianne can't think of anything but the power rush from making her own decisions and the ringing in her head of dutydutydutyduty is easily ignored.
So she winds her way up to the castle after dusk falls, but he does not. He has someone else to see today.
"What?" Dom coughs, spraying his ale all over the table. Lerant gives him a disgusted look and wipes droplets off both of their tunics.
"You heard me," he says irritably. "I've fallen in love, and I'm not quite sure who she is."
"How can you not know her name? By Mithros, Lerant! That's the sort of thing I expect to hear from Wolset, not from you!" Dom sputters, his dark hair falling into his eyes in his tirade.
"I know her name!" Lerant protests. "It's Lia. I just don't know anything else about her background. I think she's a noble, though, she must be."
Dom shakes his head and puts his face in his hands. "Well, what do you expect me to do?"
"I don't know," Lerant says, "maybe just keep on the lookout for a noblewoman named Lia during the balls. Mithros knows you attract women just by breathing."
Dom snorts. "Thanks, Lerant, but can't you see Kel's face? 'Oh no, dear, I wasn't flirting with that woman, I was trying to find out her name so I can see if she's the one that Lerant's in love with.' Yeah, that would go over so well."
"Don't be so dramatic. You sound like your cousin-"
"You wound me!" Dom strikes a pose with his hand over his face like a noblewoman about to faint.
"She has black hair and blue eyes, if that helps. And she's beautiful, and her eyes crinkle when she smiles, and-"
"You've got it bad!" Dom bursts out laughing and falls over, out of his chair. Lerant flushes and kicks Dom in the back, not too gently.
"Ow! Now who's dramatic?"
"Shut up, Dom."
Lianne is intelligent enough to know she is in way over her head already. She doesn't spend much time with people outside her family, usually- she has few friends, and she considers them family in all but blood (Alan and Aly of Pirate's Swoop, and Jaquetta of Naxen, for example) - and being around Lerant feels intoxicating. Freedom, it turns out, is extraordinarily addicting.
(Is she using Lerant or does she genuinely like him? She's not quite sure. She'd like to think that she loves him- or at least has a romantic interest in him- but part of her says skeptically that she would feel like this around anyone who didn't know of her rank and treated her like an equal. She tells that part to keep quiet, before wondering, is she crazyinsanetotallydaft to be hearing voices in her head? She tells that voice to be quiet too.)
She is not looking forward to Midwinter at all- there is nothing she wants, particularly, as a gift (except the gift of choice- in her friends and her words and her life in general, and that is something no one will award her).
Midwinter for her is just another occasion at which she has to smile&curtsey&dance, where she has to look and sound interested in what prejudiced nobles have to say, where she has to play the part of the perfectpolitemodestdutiful princess (that she is- right?). She's not absolutely sure of Lerant's background, but she has never seen him at court- so if he is a nobleman, which she doubts, he won't be at the festivities anyway.
So she spends her time alone during the time leading up to the first night until her mother snaps that she had best stop moping and get ready for the feast.
Domitan of Masbolle has had many missions (both professional and personal) during his life, but this one is the oddest he can remember (except maybe the time Third Company convinced him it was a good idea to steal the loincloths of Rider Group Eight and cover them in glitter- but that's another story).
Black hair, blue eyes, named Lia, he repeats to himself as he sits beside Keladry and looks furtively around. None of the ladies he recognizes fit that physical description (not that he recognizes them for any disreputable reasons, Kel dear, merely from conversations he's had, of course. not that he's defensive or anything- why would he be? what are you suggesting?).
Lerant is there himself- Raoul made him go (you're part of the Own, Lerant, you deserve to take a break and have fun. Or else.) - though looking very disgruntled and listening halfheartedly to his grandfather grumble about those gods-cursed progressives. Dom can't help but snicker when Lerant's younger sister attempts to catch the attention of Prince Jasson and ends up with her wavy hair dipped in her soup. A questioning glance from Kel leaves him sober-faced again.
"So," she says, turning back to Meathead, "I said to the merchant, 'This is Yamani steel! It shouldn't be stored in such cold places, or it'll crack.' So he said-"
Oh well. Dom supposes. This conversation is too interesting to abandon right now. Lerant can find out the identity of his mystery girl on his own.
The feast is just as boring as Lianne suspected (she would know best, she has lived the life of a diplomat since she was born, after all- perfectpolitePrincessLianne). She smiles graciously and nods and counts down the hours- 1, 2, 3.
The food is good at least, she notes, as her eyes drift over the rows of nobles, dressed to impress. And she doesn't have to dance (though she will at the first ball- but that's in a few days, and she will deal with it then).
"Lianne!" she is startled out of her reverie by her brother Liam, who is glaring at her- he has obviously said her name several times. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Of course," she says smoothly. "You were just talking about your upcoming Ordeal." (She wasn't listening, of course, but that's all Liam has talked about for months- he begins his fast tomorrow.)
He scowls at her- she's right, but he is aggravated already. "What is wrong with you lately, Lianne? Your head's been in the clouds. You just ignored Ambassador Bernhard- you're lucky you didn't seriously offend him! It's not like you at all."
She bites her lip to keep from responding scathingly (is she not allowed to be have even a moment to herself- alone in her own mind without worrying what others think?) because she knows without saying that the answer is no- never- because one moment of rudeness would eclipse all her hours&hours&hours of forced politeness in people's minds.
And besides, one sharp word to Liam and he will explode, in public or no- he is the insolent, thoughtless one of the royal children (although if he was just another noble, he'd be considered fairly polite- a double standard- but he is not just anyone and no one said their lot was fair anyway, and they are royalty and so lucky and complaining would be ungrateful).
Vania is the same way, but she is younger and a girl and people are more likely to excuse her as simply temperamental. Roald and Lianne are composed, Kalasin is fiery (and far away in Carthak at any rate), and Jasson is the joker with a fine wit. Clashes are frequent, but alwaysalwaysalways in private.
"I am fine," she answers at last. "Thank you for your concern." He glares at her and she can tell she hasn't been let off completely- but thankfully he changes the subject, talking about some sort of conflict in the east, and she can daydream all she likes for the rest of the feast.
Lerant spends the banquet in irritated silence as his sister, Adrienn, prattles on about the handsome men of the court- she is sixteen and newly presented and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of males (and as it happens, the men in question are much more likely to accept a wide-eyed, innocent court beauty from a traitor family than a troubled young man from the same origins).
"And the one from King's Reach- oh Lerant, he's so handsome. Such dark hair and eyes, and so good with a sword, like a mysterious knight in shining armor from ballads! And have you seen Sir Merric of Hollyrose? Why, he has the nicest red hair..."
It may be understandable, but it is annoying and Lerant finds himself clenching his fists and biting his tongue. Thank Mithros, Margarry of Cavall (and it is shocking that they are sitting near someone from such a favored fief at all, even if it is only the smiling young blonde) changes the subject skillfully to the best kind of silk to make sashes from (and while he may not be interested in that either, at least it does not remind him that the word traitor is a burden that only he has to bear).
The feast is nearly over by the time the discussion is, encompassing corset styles, hairdos, and winding to commentary about the most musically inclined convent girls. Adrienn seems oblivious to Lerant's discomfort and boredom, although she sends him a quick glance when Margarry begins detailing how loyal her knightly beau, Owen of Jesslaw, is to the Crown. Perhaps she is not as naive as he believes (maybe there's a reason for these innocent topics, maybe she has a motive), but he does not notice- he never does.
When the feast is ended, Lianne drifts away to her room. After bathing and preparing for the next day, she lies awake in the dark and time flows around her- it could be midnight now or just before daybreak. She is tired () but even if she could sleep, she doubts it would help.
Her brain hums uncomfortably. She doesn't want to think about Lerant (it's much too dangerous, don't get too attached, oh Lianne) but she does anyway. She thinks about his smooth hair and his half-smile and the way he caresses her face. The way he looks at her like other men look at her crown (like she is the ultimate prize, like she is worth something- just for herself).
Lianne has tolerated these men in the past- the men who look at her and see the Conte crest and nothing else- but she will not be able to any longer, she knows. Lerant has ruined (fixed?) her, and she cannot (will not) go back- she cannot (will not) forget this, and how she feels- she cannot (will not) stop now.
She has changed, for better or for worse (or maybe both), and she cannot (will not) go back. She cannot (will not) forget how she feels now (ohsofrightenedscaredterrified), and the crazy plans and thoughts and emotions she's had since. And this is like nothing she has ever known or done or been (and what will she do now, what will her family say, oh Lianne).
But she will not stop.
Maybe she doesn't know what she will do (she is thinking of crazy, crazy plans, like persuading Lerant to court her or being independent of all men or talking to her parents or her siblings or joining the Riders permanently, crazydafttotallyinsane), but she will find out what to do. A proper princess doesn't go into things unprepared, and this will be no different.
She will (has to) control a piece of her own life.
And a hint of rose-gold dawn peeks out from under her curtains, and it is her turn (Lianne's turn, just Lianne's) to be daybreak.
Summary: Lerant is daybreak and Lianne is dusk, and somehow they'll find their way through the dark.
Rating: PG-13 (but light)
Warnings: Angst- lots and lots of it
Author's Notes: Hey, everyone! This is my multi-chapter. It's been up on FF.net for a while, and I edited chapters 1-8 with help from sesquipedalian and Eaglefire.
Hope you enjoy! Chapter 1
The late evening sun glints through the base of the Royal Forest, and two people stand by the gates to the city. A crowd of people on horseback spreads behind them (and the growing darkness obscures faces, obscures clothing, obscures everything).
The woman squeezes the man's hand, and they enter Corus.
That is how the story ends.
This is how it begins.
-:-
He is daybreak, a young man emerging from the gloom of a traitor's legacy. Resentful, but loyal (to the Crown in general and Raoul in particular)- he is not his aunt, and he wishes more people could see that. He is a soldier, isn't he, and a noble, and he deserves at least that much respect. He wishes people did not judge him by his family (Delia was a traitor, but he is not).
She is dusk, a young woman pulling apart from her family and falling into the blackness of uncertainty. She knows her duty, oh her duty (of course she does, of course, she's been told all her life, and she's not Kalasin, to have her own dreams), but sometimes she imagines she is someone else, somewhere else, anything. She wishes people did not judge her by her family (her father wanted to be king, but she never asked to be a princess).
They are not so different- they are not night and day, they are sunrise and sunset, they are Lerant and Lianne.
He knows of her, obviously, everyone knows the Contes (they are the royal family, after all), and he has seen her (during parades and at balls and all those noble gatherings he is snubbed during), but he has never talked to her. Most of the time he spent at court was before he joined the Own at eighteen, and she was just a child then, another black-haired royal child to be fawned over, fussed over, coddled, indulged.
She knows of him only distantly- a mention or two by Roald's friend Keladry of Mindelan (you know the one, the one Kally was feverishly jealous of, the one who became a knight) of the standard-bearer when Kel was Uncle Raoul's squire. Although Kel says that they didn't get along, she speaks well of him. He is bitterbitterbitter, she says, but he has a right to be.
-:-
It is entirely chance when they meet. Third Company is back in Corus for Midwinter and Raoul gives them some time off. It is 462, over a year since Mindelan rescued the refugees and became the "Protector of the Small". He is still the standard-bearer, and has not been promoted in the Own (although he fights just as well as Sergeant Dom, he is not a leader) and this does not grant him any more respect. He is an Eldorne (hatedtraitorlockedaway) and twenty-three years has not been kind to people's memories.
He has gone down to the Jugged Hare for ale. Many nobles turn their noses up at pubs in the city, with the commoners, but he likes the anonymity, where he can drown in drink in peace. He is sitting at a table (not exactly alone- his self-pity takes up two chairs on its own) when the door opens. This is not unusual, for it is supper-hour, and the pub is crowded, but the woman who walks in has a nervous gait- looking around as if she shouldn't be there. Her eyes lock on his (his plain brown eyes under plain blond-brown bangs) and she walks over to him, alone-but-not-alone with his ale.
"You don't mind, do you?" she gestures to a chair and he shrugs, taking another swig of drink and looking at her. She is dressed simply but in cloth that does not belong here in a common tavern, and her hair (although unadorned by noblewoman standards, with no pearlsdiamondsgems) is styled much too carefully for her to be a commoner.
"Sorry," she takes a seat, sweeping her skirts in front of her in a way that would immediately discount her as a peasant, if he didn't already know she couldn't be, "I'm kind of-" she hesitates, her sapphire eyes flickering up and down his body in breeches and tunic, judging him (he squirms slightly).
"Kind of hiding from someone," she laughs nervously and smoothes her skirts, and he wonders vaguely who she is. There is a pause, and she is looking at him with those searching sapphire eyes, and oh he's supposed to say something here, isn't he?
"You want a drink?" he says, and her eyebrows go up under her black hair- was that the wrong thing to say? He doesn't talk to women, much- but "Yes, sure," she replies, and flags down the bartender, who gives her a strange look (women who look like her don't come in the pub often) but brings her an ale.
There is a silence, and it is a little awkward but not too bad, and he notices (rather detachedly, he is getting a little tipsy) that she is a very ladylike drinker, all sips and delicate fingers.
"Who are you hiding from?" he asks, and she glances up- maybe that was too personal? Is she going to leave? But she just sighs and looks away.
"My family," she says, "they-they are very protective of me."
"Oh," he wishes he knew what to say (Dom would know, he thinks, Dom is good with the ladies, but Dom is happily dating Mindelan and isn't even at the pub anyway). "Sorry."
"That's okay," she says, "that's okay. It's selfish, really, isn't it? All they want to do is protect me- I mean, everyone else here has bigger problems, I bet, but here I am feeling sorry for myself."
He is a little taken aback, but her words are true enough, lots of people have it much worse off than her (and him, for that matter) and now he feels guilty, Mithros curse it, for being so depressed.
"Everyone feels sorry for themselves sometimes," he tells her, taking another drink, "I do, I know. Even though my family wouldn't give a copper bit what happens to me." There is only a little liquid left now, and it is getting late, and he should probably head home soon (not homehome, but where he stays in the palace, much to everyone's disgust- he is an Eldorne, doesn't he know he's not welcome?) but he doesn't want to leave this interesting girl with the dark hair and true words, even if she makes him feel guilty. So they sit in silence for a while, and it's not too awkward.
-:-
"I should go, they'll be wondering where I am," she says around dusk, when the sky darkens and those with respectable business start to leave the streets (the city is dangerous for those unprepared for it) but maybe she doesn't want to go.
Maybe she wants to stay and talk to the young man with the snub nose and haunted eyes (she wonders if he is in the army, with those eyes, the ones she sees on Aunt Alanna and her brothers and her own father, those eyes that have seen things nobody should see). So she doesn't make a move to get up, and they sit.
She has never been to a tavern on her own before, and she's so glad to have a companion (although maybe that defeats the purpose of taking time alone to clear her head) albeit a quiet, slightly sulky one.
He hasn't asked who she is, and she is so very grateful. It has been so nice (so nicenicenice) to be herself for a while, which sounds ridiculous, because she is always herself, but it is amazing and exhilarating and breathtakingly amazing to just be Lianne (not Princess Lianne, Her Royal Highness, the middle princess, the one that will have to be married off soon).
She hasn't asked him who he is either, although she guesses he is a commoner (he is dressed plainly, after all, and he is in this pub- but so is she, and he doesn't act like commoners usually do, base and a little bit crude). She finds herself wishing futilely she could get to know this young man better. It would be nice (so nicenicenice) to have a friend who could speak to her (Lianne), look at her (Lianne), see her (Lianne) and not be a princess. She doesn't want to be a princess, sometimes. She wants to be herself.
But she knows as well as anyone that a princess could not, could definitely not have a friend like that. Rumors start as quickly as wildfire after all, and no one would have her (none of those stuffy old foreign kings and princes and dukes) if they didn't believe in her virtue. Her parents apologize (we're so sorry, Lianne, but you are a princess, and duty-)
And duty always comes first, her duty to the people and the crown. It's not like she could fall in love, anyway, because she is perfectmodestpolitedutiful Lianne, and that's not like her. Kally was the one with dreams, and see how that ended. Vania is the one who flirts, for all she knows it's not serious, can never be serious, and for all she's only sixteen. Lianne is just Lianne, the perfectmodestpolitedutiful princess, who always does what she's told.
So she doesn't go, and he doesn't go, and they sit for a while longer and don't talk much except to say "Want another drink?" or "It's getting late", but they're not alone.
-:-
Eventually it is very late, late even for a single young man out at a tavern, and he exhales sharply and stands. She looks at him, her mouth twisted wryly as he offers her his hand and she stands (not-so-gracefully, since she doesn't usually drink so much).
"Do you need a walk home?" he asks her, and he doesn't mean to be forward, he is worried about a young woman in Corus (not the best part of the city, either) and luckily she doesn't take it that way, and smiles, and her eyes crinkle.
"No, I'll be alright," she answers (although he doesn't know it, she can take care of herself- Uncle George made sure of it, just in case) and he nods slowly. He holds open the door for her and they stand out in the dark for a moment.
It is cold but there is no snow, just mud, and there are no stars shining overhead because it is a cloudy night, and it is not a romantic setting at all, and he doesn't even know who she is, just that she has an overprotective family and is probably rich and has sapphire eyes that crinkle when she smiles.
But something comes over him and he leans toward her (what are you doing, Lerant? stopstopstopstopnow) and her eyes widen and he feels her eyelashes brush his face just before their lips touch.
She pulls away after a moment and he swallows suddenly and steps back.
"Oh," she manages, and he doesn't need her apology, he knows what she'll say, he's been rejected enough, he turns to go-
"Wait," she says, and he freezes, and then her cold hand touches his arm, and he looks at her.
"I'm Lia." She smiles at him again with those crinkly eyes.
"I'm Lerant," he says. "Uh." And there is another silence, and this one is more awkward than the others.
"Can I see you again?" He asks, which sounds silly even to him, but she agrees immediately.
They make plans to meet next week, and she leaves him with a wistful glance and walks away.
Toward the palace where he has to go. He does not want to deal with the awkwardness of walking with her when he already said good-bye, so he just stands in the cold for a moment. As far as he can tell, she is still heading in that direction, although it is very dark, so he could be wrong (Where does she live? Is she a noblewoman staying at the palace? Or was he wrong and she is just a rich merchant's daughter?) So he sighs and goes back into the pub, which is open all night long during Midwinter.
"Another drink," he tells the bartender, and goes back to the table, and he is alone when the sun rises and the day breaks.
Chapter 2- Kicked You Around
-:-
'Oh baby, we ain't the first
I'm sure a lot of other lovers been cursed'
-Refugee, Melissa Etheridge (Tom Petty)
'Oh baby, we ain't the first
I'm sure a lot of other lovers been cursed'
-Refugee, Melissa Etheridge (Tom Petty)
Angry is an understatement.
Her parents are furiousfumingenragedlivid with her (where have you been, what were you thinking, oh Lianne, you could have been killed or kidnapped, you are a princess, or did you forget? As if she possibly could) but she doesn't care, much. She keeps her mouth shut.
Lianne wanders the palace in a daze, a haze, her feet absentmindedly carrying her to meals, to bed, to the practice courts. Any daughter of Thayet and Jon's must know how to shoot a bow and wield a sword at least decently, though Kally was so much better at it, at everything, really. Kally with her determined chin and challenging eyes and her dreams. Lianne wonders if it is worth it to have dreams, since they don't come true (maybe for people like Alanna, but not for a princess whose first duty will always be to her country).
Roald notices that something is wrong (or right?) with Lianne, but he is busy with his pregnant wife, Princess Shinkokami, who will give birth to the heir to the throne (and don't forget Lianne, the throne will always be the most important thing in your life and everyone else's, never mind that you are the middle princess and you are useless to it). He doesn't have much time even for Lianne, who of all his siblings he is closest to. They are the most similar, Roald and Lianne, with soft voices and logical heads and polite tongues, always thinking of their duty (Lianne wonders if Roald ever had dreams, if he really wanted to be a knight, but it doesn't matter because it doesn't matter what they want, remember dutydutyduty).
So Lianne wanders, and wonders, and a week passes quickly. The Midwinter celebrations are coming up soon, but that is nothing compared with seeing Lerant again. There's no way she'll be allowed out again but she grew up with Aly, by the Goddess, and she will find a way.
She does, early on the day they are to meet. Lianne's Gift is trained, although it isn't very strong at most things (healing is what she's best at, but she rarely has a chance to use it when she's not with the Riders). It is a huge effort to cloak herself in illusion to leave, but she pulls it off (staying far, far away from the mage-infested areas of the palace) and slips into the city. Once she's there, she's just another woman out bartering for bread, in a plain wool gown and a hood over her dark hair.
She realizes around Unicorn District that he never said where or when she was to meet him. The Jugged Hare is as good a place to wait as any (oh Lianne, you never think ahead, stupidstupidstupid) so she leans casually against the pub and tries to blend in.
-:-
Lerant has no idea what he is thinking. Meeting a woman he barely knows at a time and place he has no clue of? He is never like this, he never does things like this, but he's stuck and he doesn't mind all that much. He goes down to the pub where they met a few hours after dawn to wait for her (but he reminds himself not to drink, what kind of an impression does it make to show up to meet a woman drunk? Never mind how they met) and he sees her.
She sticks out like a lame horse and he has to fight laughter at the sight of her trying to fit in with passerby, awkwardly leaning against a wall. She's dressed well enough, much more plainly than last he saw her, but something about her screams that she does not belong here in the dust and clamor of the city. She carries herself like someone who knows her place in the world, and it is not here.
He wonders how he can see all these things in the woman he has only met once, but there isn't time to ponder because she sees him and (inexplicably) her whole face lights up. He is taken aback (no one has been happy to see him for a longlonglong time).
"Good morning!" she says, and smiles at him.
"Morning," he says, "Er, you're here early, Lia."
She snorts (very unladylike, but it doesn't bother him) and quirks her eyebrows at him. "You're here too, aren't you?"
He flushes and she shakes her head with her smile still intact. "Oh Lerant," she sighs, and pats his shoulder (pats him, like he's a dog!) but he can't muster up indignation at her with her wide sapphire eyes and her smile.
There is a pause and he's not quite sure what to say. Agreeing to meet is one thing but he didn't think about what they'd do, but luckily she did.
"There are lovely gardens in Prettybone District, even through the winter," she tells him, and he's surprised that she knows so much about Corus (he has decided that she must be a noblewoman, albeit one with strange habits). "Care to go for a walk...?" she trails off, looking at his face. Oh right, he should respond. That's what people do.
"That sounds wonderful," he says, trying to regain his composure but keep his bitterness buried. Something about her throws him off, like a tree branch in the trail, but it's not bad, necessarily.
They walk and idly chat about the weather, about the traffic in Corus, about the upcoming Midwinter celebrations in the city (he doesn't mention that he'll be attending the palace ball, as a nobleman, and she makes no comment about her own plans) and when they arrive at the public gardens, one of King Jonathan's renovations to the city, he is relatively comfortable.
-:-
The gardens are beautiful, even in winter, and Lianne admires the view as she sneaks glances at the man walking beside her. She's still unsure of who exactly he is, but it doesn't matter because someone is listening to her (!). No, it's not anything important (her opinion on her father's new tax makes no difference either way- princess she may be, but an influence she is not) but someone cares what Lianne thinks, and he doesn't even know she's perfectpolitemodestdutiful princess Lianne, just that she is a person and that is enough.
Time passes differently when she talks to him and neither notices when midday passes. Day ends early during winter and the sky is darkening when Lianne feels at ease enough to ask him about his family.
He stiffens immediately. "We don't get along," he says, in a voice many degrees colder than before.
"Oh," she winces, "That's too bad." She feels awful for bringing up what is evidently a sore subject for him and doesn't know quite what to say (I told you that you don't know what you're doing, Lianne, you're such a fool). "My family and I get along okay, but I don't really like to talk about them either. People judge by family, you know? And I'm not my family, I'm me."
He gapes at her (oh Goddess, that was too much, he's going to give her a strange look and leave) but then he breaks into laughter (what is going on?).
"Oh, Lia," he gasps through chuckles, "Where have you been all my life?" and he looks up at her and this is right.
-:-
They make plans to see each other again after Midwinter festivities are over- she argues but he reminds her that Midwinter is a time for family (at which she scowls and pushes his shoulder as he snorts). She knows this is a horrible idea and it can't end well (what is she doing, perfectpolitemodestdutiful princesses don't fall in love, they marry the Marenite or Gallan or Copper Islander nobleman that their father picks) but Lianne can't think of anything but the power rush from making her own decisions and the ringing in her head of dutydutydutyduty is easily ignored.
So she winds her way up to the castle after dusk falls, but he does not. He has someone else to see today.
-:-
"What?" Dom coughs, spraying his ale all over the table. Lerant gives him a disgusted look and wipes droplets off both of their tunics.
"You heard me," he says irritably. "I've fallen in love, and I'm not quite sure who she is."
"How can you not know her name? By Mithros, Lerant! That's the sort of thing I expect to hear from Wolset, not from you!" Dom sputters, his dark hair falling into his eyes in his tirade.
"I know her name!" Lerant protests. "It's Lia. I just don't know anything else about her background. I think she's a noble, though, she must be."
Dom shakes his head and puts his face in his hands. "Well, what do you expect me to do?"
"I don't know," Lerant says, "maybe just keep on the lookout for a noblewoman named Lia during the balls. Mithros knows you attract women just by breathing."
Dom snorts. "Thanks, Lerant, but can't you see Kel's face? 'Oh no, dear, I wasn't flirting with that woman, I was trying to find out her name so I can see if she's the one that Lerant's in love with.' Yeah, that would go over so well."
"Don't be so dramatic. You sound like your cousin-"
"You wound me!" Dom strikes a pose with his hand over his face like a noblewoman about to faint.
"She has black hair and blue eyes, if that helps. And she's beautiful, and her eyes crinkle when she smiles, and-"
"You've got it bad!" Dom bursts out laughing and falls over, out of his chair. Lerant flushes and kicks Dom in the back, not too gently.
"Ow! Now who's dramatic?"
"Shut up, Dom."
-:-
Chapter 3- Too Much To Forget
-:-
"And now you crossed that line
You can't come back
Tell me how does it feel now
It's too late, too much to forget about
Can't stop now
Tell me how does it feel now?"
-Feel, Matchbox 20
-:-
"And now you crossed that line
You can't come back
Tell me how does it feel now
It's too late, too much to forget about
Can't stop now
Tell me how does it feel now?"
-Feel, Matchbox 20
-:-
Lianne is intelligent enough to know she is in way over her head already. She doesn't spend much time with people outside her family, usually- she has few friends, and she considers them family in all but blood (Alan and Aly of Pirate's Swoop, and Jaquetta of Naxen, for example) - and being around Lerant feels intoxicating. Freedom, it turns out, is extraordinarily addicting.
(Is she using Lerant or does she genuinely like him? She's not quite sure. She'd like to think that she loves him- or at least has a romantic interest in him- but part of her says skeptically that she would feel like this around anyone who didn't know of her rank and treated her like an equal. She tells that part to keep quiet, before wondering, is she crazyinsanetotallydaft to be hearing voices in her head? She tells that voice to be quiet too.)
She is not looking forward to Midwinter at all- there is nothing she wants, particularly, as a gift (except the gift of choice- in her friends and her words and her life in general, and that is something no one will award her).
Midwinter for her is just another occasion at which she has to smile&curtsey&dance, where she has to look and sound interested in what prejudiced nobles have to say, where she has to play the part of the perfectpolitemodestdutiful princess (that she is- right?). She's not absolutely sure of Lerant's background, but she has never seen him at court- so if he is a nobleman, which she doubts, he won't be at the festivities anyway.
So she spends her time alone during the time leading up to the first night until her mother snaps that she had best stop moping and get ready for the feast.
-:-
Domitan of Masbolle has had many missions (both professional and personal) during his life, but this one is the oddest he can remember (except maybe the time Third Company convinced him it was a good idea to steal the loincloths of Rider Group Eight and cover them in glitter- but that's another story).
Black hair, blue eyes, named Lia, he repeats to himself as he sits beside Keladry and looks furtively around. None of the ladies he recognizes fit that physical description (not that he recognizes them for any disreputable reasons, Kel dear, merely from conversations he's had, of course. not that he's defensive or anything- why would he be? what are you suggesting?).
Lerant is there himself- Raoul made him go (you're part of the Own, Lerant, you deserve to take a break and have fun. Or else.) - though looking very disgruntled and listening halfheartedly to his grandfather grumble about those gods-cursed progressives. Dom can't help but snicker when Lerant's younger sister attempts to catch the attention of Prince Jasson and ends up with her wavy hair dipped in her soup. A questioning glance from Kel leaves him sober-faced again.
"So," she says, turning back to Meathead, "I said to the merchant, 'This is Yamani steel! It shouldn't be stored in such cold places, or it'll crack.' So he said-"
Oh well. Dom supposes. This conversation is too interesting to abandon right now. Lerant can find out the identity of his mystery girl on his own.
-:-
The feast is just as boring as Lianne suspected (she would know best, she has lived the life of a diplomat since she was born, after all- perfectpolitePrincessLianne). She smiles graciously and nods and counts down the hours- 1, 2, 3.
The food is good at least, she notes, as her eyes drift over the rows of nobles, dressed to impress. And she doesn't have to dance (though she will at the first ball- but that's in a few days, and she will deal with it then).
"Lianne!" she is startled out of her reverie by her brother Liam, who is glaring at her- he has obviously said her name several times. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Of course," she says smoothly. "You were just talking about your upcoming Ordeal." (She wasn't listening, of course, but that's all Liam has talked about for months- he begins his fast tomorrow.)
He scowls at her- she's right, but he is aggravated already. "What is wrong with you lately, Lianne? Your head's been in the clouds. You just ignored Ambassador Bernhard- you're lucky you didn't seriously offend him! It's not like you at all."
She bites her lip to keep from responding scathingly (is she not allowed to be have even a moment to herself- alone in her own mind without worrying what others think?) because she knows without saying that the answer is no- never- because one moment of rudeness would eclipse all her hours&hours&hours of forced politeness in people's minds.
And besides, one sharp word to Liam and he will explode, in public or no- he is the insolent, thoughtless one of the royal children (although if he was just another noble, he'd be considered fairly polite- a double standard- but he is not just anyone and no one said their lot was fair anyway, and they are royalty and so lucky and complaining would be ungrateful).
Vania is the same way, but she is younger and a girl and people are more likely to excuse her as simply temperamental. Roald and Lianne are composed, Kalasin is fiery (and far away in Carthak at any rate), and Jasson is the joker with a fine wit. Clashes are frequent, but alwaysalwaysalways in private.
"I am fine," she answers at last. "Thank you for your concern." He glares at her and she can tell she hasn't been let off completely- but thankfully he changes the subject, talking about some sort of conflict in the east, and she can daydream all she likes for the rest of the feast.
-:-
Lerant spends the banquet in irritated silence as his sister, Adrienn, prattles on about the handsome men of the court- she is sixteen and newly presented and overwhelmed by the sheer amount of males (and as it happens, the men in question are much more likely to accept a wide-eyed, innocent court beauty from a traitor family than a troubled young man from the same origins).
"And the one from King's Reach- oh Lerant, he's so handsome. Such dark hair and eyes, and so good with a sword, like a mysterious knight in shining armor from ballads! And have you seen Sir Merric of Hollyrose? Why, he has the nicest red hair..."
It may be understandable, but it is annoying and Lerant finds himself clenching his fists and biting his tongue. Thank Mithros, Margarry of Cavall (and it is shocking that they are sitting near someone from such a favored fief at all, even if it is only the smiling young blonde) changes the subject skillfully to the best kind of silk to make sashes from (and while he may not be interested in that either, at least it does not remind him that the word traitor is a burden that only he has to bear).
The feast is nearly over by the time the discussion is, encompassing corset styles, hairdos, and winding to commentary about the most musically inclined convent girls. Adrienn seems oblivious to Lerant's discomfort and boredom, although she sends him a quick glance when Margarry begins detailing how loyal her knightly beau, Owen of Jesslaw, is to the Crown. Perhaps she is not as naive as he believes (maybe there's a reason for these innocent topics, maybe she has a motive), but he does not notice- he never does.
-:-
When the feast is ended, Lianne drifts away to her room. After bathing and preparing for the next day, she lies awake in the dark and time flows around her- it could be midnight now or just before daybreak. She is tired () but even if she could sleep, she doubts it would help.
Her brain hums uncomfortably. She doesn't want to think about Lerant (it's much too dangerous, don't get too attached, oh Lianne) but she does anyway. She thinks about his smooth hair and his half-smile and the way he caresses her face. The way he looks at her like other men look at her crown (like she is the ultimate prize, like she is worth something- just for herself).
Lianne has tolerated these men in the past- the men who look at her and see the Conte crest and nothing else- but she will not be able to any longer, she knows. Lerant has ruined (fixed?) her, and she cannot (will not) go back- she cannot (will not) forget this, and how she feels- she cannot (will not) stop now.
She has changed, for better or for worse (or maybe both), and she cannot (will not) go back. She cannot (will not) forget how she feels now (ohsofrightenedscaredterrified), and the crazy plans and thoughts and emotions she's had since. And this is like nothing she has ever known or done or been (and what will she do now, what will her family say, oh Lianne).
But she will not stop.
Maybe she doesn't know what she will do (she is thinking of crazy, crazy plans, like persuading Lerant to court her or being independent of all men or talking to her parents or her siblings or joining the Riders permanently, crazydafttotallyinsane), but she will find out what to do. A proper princess doesn't go into things unprepared, and this will be no different.
She will (has to) control a piece of her own life.
And a hint of rose-gold dawn peeks out from under her curtains, and it is her turn (Lianne's turn, just Lianne's) to be daybreak.
-:-
/center]
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!