For Idleness: The Courting of Owen, PG
Feb 24, 2017 20:45:59 GMT 10
Seek, Tamari, and 2 more like this
Post by Kypriotha on Feb 24, 2017 20:45:59 GMT 10
To: Idleness
Message: Happy secret admirer exchange! I'm sorry this is a little on the late side and I hope it accords at least a little to what you had in mind with this prompt. I just couldn't resist writing Owen. He's so lovable
From: Kyp
Title: The Courting of Owen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1749
Prompt: 2. One of the POTS crew (but not Kel or Neal) courts a suitor.
Summary (and any warnings): Owen is all grown up and courting is afoot...maybe.
Owen of Jesslaw was going to be the best bandit killer Tortall had ever seen. He would win his shield, do his duty to the Realm and then hunt bandits for the rest of his days.
This focus and determination did not leave him much time to focus on anything else, apart from his friends and books (did you know the pages had two libraries they could use for their studies?).
Definitely not girls though. (Except for Kel, of course, and anyway, she didn't count, as she fell into the previously mentioned category of friends.)
Which meant that, before he became Lord Wyldon's squire, Owen had not had much practice talking to girls beyond his immediate social circle
Which meant that he was wholly unprepared for the advent of Margarry in his life.
***
He met her on his second day at Fief Cavall, Margarry having been staying at a friend’s place the previous day. She was the only one of Wyldon’s daughters still living at the home Fief, the others being a number of years older than her – Sunarine was recently married and Eiralys already had two children. Cathrea was away at Court, but Margarry never spoke of Cathrea if she could help it. Owen gathered they had had a big fight before the older sister left for Court and sensibly didn’t ask any more questions.
Margarry herself was, when not scowling over Cathrea, all sunshine and light – soft golden curls and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was Owen’s age and liked to go out riding and to help her father with his hounds. Her mother sighed over the tears in her clothing, but Owen noticed they were always perfectly mended with Vivenne’s neat stitches and surmised (correctly) that Vivenne didn’t mind her daughter’s activities.
In his precious spare moments of free time, Margarry showed Owen around the Fief and surrounding area. She introduced him to all of Cavall’s fine hounds and horses and gave him tips to improve his riding. She was an expert guide of the surrounding woodland and could find all manner of interesting animals and plants.
Owen thought she was the jolliest girl he had ever met, even jollier than Kel (though there was no one he admired as fiercely as he admired Kel, not even the new Knight Master he respected above all others). Owen and Margarry were firm friends, as only two kindred spirits could be, and there was nothing more than friendship between them.
At least, not yet.
***
Owen's life at Cavall never fell into a routine per se, because as Lord Wyldon said, a routine could get a soldier killed. So there were always little changes and surprises. But it was comfortable - and Margarry was a big part of that. Owen felt as relaxed around her as he did with any of his relatives or his fellow pages and squires.
In addition to her love of riding and the outdoors, Margarry enjoyed books as much as Owen. Many a free evening was spent in companionable silence in the Cavall library or in lively debate in the small family sitting room upstairs (debate of any kind was strictly forbidden in the library, which was next to Lord Wyldon's study, and the knight himself was always noticeably absent from the sitting room debates - although Vivenne would usually sit in the comfy chair in corner, embroidering industriously and trying not to smile).
And so it was that Owen passed many happy months at Fief Cavall, learning from his Knight Master, adoring her Ladyship (respectfully, of course) and getting to know Margarry better. Until came the Scanrans from the North, all ice and fire and danger.
***
Owen could tell something had changed when he and Lord Wyldon returned to Cavall for the first time since heading for the border. Margarry tried to imitate her mother's composed facade, but whilst Owen was sure Vivenne's masked relief and affection, he suspected Margarry's was a mask for frustration.
Owen was puzzled. In the few letters they'd exchanged whilst he was away, he thought Margarry had seemed as chummy as always. Possibly a little more expressively affectionate on paper than in person (she was much better at expressing herself in writing than Owen was, that was for certain), but still friendly and open. Now she seemed distant and reserved and Owen couldn't work out why.
Of course, she was perfectly polite to him in front of her parents and even smiled at him prettily over the dinner table, which made his heart squeeze slightly and he gave her a broad grin in return (completely missing the looks his Lord and Lady exchanged over the young people's heads). But she made no attempt to seek him out for any of their usual activities and she even seemed to make up excuses to not stay in the same room as him outside meal times and regulated family activities.
On the third day, Owen decided to seek Margarry out himself. He was feeling strangely bereft (he assumed he was missing his friends from the border and his page training days) and wanted some company. Previously, Margarry had been the most excellent of company and he was determined to find out why she seemed to be upset with him (the thought of which gave him a funny feeling in his gut).
***
Owen found Margarry in the big garden behind the castle, in her favourite sunny nook with the comfy chair she had appropriated from the old nursery, where the sunlight veritably caused her hair to glow. A book lay open in her lap, but she wasn’t reading it; instead, she was staring off into the distance, a small frown tugging at corner of her full pink lips.
Owen started guiltily at that frown – he hoped he wasn’t the cause of it. He hated to think that something he might have done could dim Margarry’s beautiful smile. He quickly pushed that thought away, however, as Margarry turned at the sound of his footsteps and half rose from her chair, apparently of a mind to leave.
Owen held out a placating hand before she could rise fully from her chair. “Wait.” He didn’t fully appreciate how beseeching his voice sounded or how wistful his expression looked at that moment. But Margarry did and her own face softened slightly as she settled back into her chair, although she kept her head down.
“I just want to talk,” Owen continued, his still-boyish looking both troubled and hopeful as he stopped a respectful-but-not-too-far distance from Margarry’s chair. “I miss you.”
Margarry’s head jerked up and she looked at Owen carefully. “You miss me?”
“Well, yes.”
“But you didn’t write me.”
Owen was indignant. “Yes I did! You know I did, because you wrote back!”
Margarry waved her hand in an airy dismissal. “Those letters didn’t count. They were the same as you would write to any friend.”
Owen was confused. If Margarry wasn’t his friend, then what was she? An idea, vaguely formed, lurked in the back of his mind, back where he couldn’t quite catch it and bring it to the forefront. Plus, Margarry was still looking at him intently and it was giving him a burning feeling in his cheeks.
“How do you miss me?”
Owen wasn’t sure he understood the question, but he tried to answer it anyway. It was a bit difficult, though, because he was a little distracted by how Margarry’s face had changed. It was getting closer to that of the woman she was becoming than of the girl he’d left behind.
“I-I miss our rides and our walks and our talks…and…I…” Owen trailed off, as Margarry turned her head away from him, but not before he’d seen the look of hurt on her face.
“Oh.” Her voice was bland, mild. “You miss your friend.”
“Yes!” He was glad she seemed to finally understand, although he didn’t understand why she was now avoiding his gaze.
“Is that all I am to you? A friend?”
Owen was certain he’d lost his footing in this conversation. In fact, he was beginning to think he’d never had it in the first place. If only Margarry would stop looking so pretty in the sunlight, with the flowers of the garden arrayed around her.
“Of course you’re my friend. What else would you be?”
Now Margarry sat up straight and did look at him and Owen almost wished she wouldn’t, although he did think he’d never seen her look as beautiful as she did then with her rosy cheeks and glowing eyes.
“What else? What else do you think a man and a woman would be to each other?”
What else…Owen stared at her blankly for a moment, before the vague idea from the back of his mind swam forward and crystallised with a sudden sharp intensity. Owen felt his cheeks burn and he looked at Margarry as he’d never looked at her before, seeing the woman – the beautiful, clever, adventurous, laughing woman.
Oh.
Oh.
Margarry was still looking at him, her gaze searching, passionate, hopeful. Owen tried to form a coherent sentence around the new knowledge that was now giving him a tingly sensation all over (or at least it seemed that way).
“I…well…I guess I just hadn’t thought about things that way before.”
“Hadn’t thought!” Margarry stared at Owen for a moment and then, surprisingly (to Owen at least), collapsed backwards into her chair, laughing. Owen wasn’t sure what to say or do…or even if he was supposed to say or do anything…although Margarry’s laughter was infectious and he felt an answering smile tug at his lips.
Eventually Margarry sat up and looked at him again, all sorrow and frustration erased from her features, which were once again the happy and light filled ones he had remembered so fondly during his time at the border.
“I see this confusion is partly my fault. I should have realised that you were too innocent – and too caught up in your glorious dreams of knighthood – to have thought of this and to then act on it. Well then!”
Margarry stood up, her forgotten book falling to the ground, and walked over to Owen with outstretched hands and a smile on her face. Owen gave her a tentative smile in return and shyly took her hands in his.
“If you are too clueless to manage the courting of me, than I shall just have to manage the courting of you!”
Message: Happy secret admirer exchange! I'm sorry this is a little on the late side and I hope it accords at least a little to what you had in mind with this prompt. I just couldn't resist writing Owen. He's so lovable
From: Kyp
Title: The Courting of Owen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1749
Prompt: 2. One of the POTS crew (but not Kel or Neal) courts a suitor.
Summary (and any warnings): Owen is all grown up and courting is afoot...maybe.
Owen of Jesslaw was going to be the best bandit killer Tortall had ever seen. He would win his shield, do his duty to the Realm and then hunt bandits for the rest of his days.
This focus and determination did not leave him much time to focus on anything else, apart from his friends and books (did you know the pages had two libraries they could use for their studies?).
Definitely not girls though. (Except for Kel, of course, and anyway, she didn't count, as she fell into the previously mentioned category of friends.)
Which meant that, before he became Lord Wyldon's squire, Owen had not had much practice talking to girls beyond his immediate social circle
Which meant that he was wholly unprepared for the advent of Margarry in his life.
***
He met her on his second day at Fief Cavall, Margarry having been staying at a friend’s place the previous day. She was the only one of Wyldon’s daughters still living at the home Fief, the others being a number of years older than her – Sunarine was recently married and Eiralys already had two children. Cathrea was away at Court, but Margarry never spoke of Cathrea if she could help it. Owen gathered they had had a big fight before the older sister left for Court and sensibly didn’t ask any more questions.
Margarry herself was, when not scowling over Cathrea, all sunshine and light – soft golden curls and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was Owen’s age and liked to go out riding and to help her father with his hounds. Her mother sighed over the tears in her clothing, but Owen noticed they were always perfectly mended with Vivenne’s neat stitches and surmised (correctly) that Vivenne didn’t mind her daughter’s activities.
In his precious spare moments of free time, Margarry showed Owen around the Fief and surrounding area. She introduced him to all of Cavall’s fine hounds and horses and gave him tips to improve his riding. She was an expert guide of the surrounding woodland and could find all manner of interesting animals and plants.
Owen thought she was the jolliest girl he had ever met, even jollier than Kel (though there was no one he admired as fiercely as he admired Kel, not even the new Knight Master he respected above all others). Owen and Margarry were firm friends, as only two kindred spirits could be, and there was nothing more than friendship between them.
At least, not yet.
***
Owen's life at Cavall never fell into a routine per se, because as Lord Wyldon said, a routine could get a soldier killed. So there were always little changes and surprises. But it was comfortable - and Margarry was a big part of that. Owen felt as relaxed around her as he did with any of his relatives or his fellow pages and squires.
In addition to her love of riding and the outdoors, Margarry enjoyed books as much as Owen. Many a free evening was spent in companionable silence in the Cavall library or in lively debate in the small family sitting room upstairs (debate of any kind was strictly forbidden in the library, which was next to Lord Wyldon's study, and the knight himself was always noticeably absent from the sitting room debates - although Vivenne would usually sit in the comfy chair in corner, embroidering industriously and trying not to smile).
And so it was that Owen passed many happy months at Fief Cavall, learning from his Knight Master, adoring her Ladyship (respectfully, of course) and getting to know Margarry better. Until came the Scanrans from the North, all ice and fire and danger.
***
Owen could tell something had changed when he and Lord Wyldon returned to Cavall for the first time since heading for the border. Margarry tried to imitate her mother's composed facade, but whilst Owen was sure Vivenne's masked relief and affection, he suspected Margarry's was a mask for frustration.
Owen was puzzled. In the few letters they'd exchanged whilst he was away, he thought Margarry had seemed as chummy as always. Possibly a little more expressively affectionate on paper than in person (she was much better at expressing herself in writing than Owen was, that was for certain), but still friendly and open. Now she seemed distant and reserved and Owen couldn't work out why.
Of course, she was perfectly polite to him in front of her parents and even smiled at him prettily over the dinner table, which made his heart squeeze slightly and he gave her a broad grin in return (completely missing the looks his Lord and Lady exchanged over the young people's heads). But she made no attempt to seek him out for any of their usual activities and she even seemed to make up excuses to not stay in the same room as him outside meal times and regulated family activities.
On the third day, Owen decided to seek Margarry out himself. He was feeling strangely bereft (he assumed he was missing his friends from the border and his page training days) and wanted some company. Previously, Margarry had been the most excellent of company and he was determined to find out why she seemed to be upset with him (the thought of which gave him a funny feeling in his gut).
***
Owen found Margarry in the big garden behind the castle, in her favourite sunny nook with the comfy chair she had appropriated from the old nursery, where the sunlight veritably caused her hair to glow. A book lay open in her lap, but she wasn’t reading it; instead, she was staring off into the distance, a small frown tugging at corner of her full pink lips.
Owen started guiltily at that frown – he hoped he wasn’t the cause of it. He hated to think that something he might have done could dim Margarry’s beautiful smile. He quickly pushed that thought away, however, as Margarry turned at the sound of his footsteps and half rose from her chair, apparently of a mind to leave.
Owen held out a placating hand before she could rise fully from her chair. “Wait.” He didn’t fully appreciate how beseeching his voice sounded or how wistful his expression looked at that moment. But Margarry did and her own face softened slightly as she settled back into her chair, although she kept her head down.
“I just want to talk,” Owen continued, his still-boyish looking both troubled and hopeful as he stopped a respectful-but-not-too-far distance from Margarry’s chair. “I miss you.”
Margarry’s head jerked up and she looked at Owen carefully. “You miss me?”
“Well, yes.”
“But you didn’t write me.”
Owen was indignant. “Yes I did! You know I did, because you wrote back!”
Margarry waved her hand in an airy dismissal. “Those letters didn’t count. They were the same as you would write to any friend.”
Owen was confused. If Margarry wasn’t his friend, then what was she? An idea, vaguely formed, lurked in the back of his mind, back where he couldn’t quite catch it and bring it to the forefront. Plus, Margarry was still looking at him intently and it was giving him a burning feeling in his cheeks.
“How do you miss me?”
Owen wasn’t sure he understood the question, but he tried to answer it anyway. It was a bit difficult, though, because he was a little distracted by how Margarry’s face had changed. It was getting closer to that of the woman she was becoming than of the girl he’d left behind.
“I-I miss our rides and our walks and our talks…and…I…” Owen trailed off, as Margarry turned her head away from him, but not before he’d seen the look of hurt on her face.
“Oh.” Her voice was bland, mild. “You miss your friend.”
“Yes!” He was glad she seemed to finally understand, although he didn’t understand why she was now avoiding his gaze.
“Is that all I am to you? A friend?”
Owen was certain he’d lost his footing in this conversation. In fact, he was beginning to think he’d never had it in the first place. If only Margarry would stop looking so pretty in the sunlight, with the flowers of the garden arrayed around her.
“Of course you’re my friend. What else would you be?”
Now Margarry sat up straight and did look at him and Owen almost wished she wouldn’t, although he did think he’d never seen her look as beautiful as she did then with her rosy cheeks and glowing eyes.
“What else? What else do you think a man and a woman would be to each other?”
What else…Owen stared at her blankly for a moment, before the vague idea from the back of his mind swam forward and crystallised with a sudden sharp intensity. Owen felt his cheeks burn and he looked at Margarry as he’d never looked at her before, seeing the woman – the beautiful, clever, adventurous, laughing woman.
Oh.
Oh.
Margarry was still looking at him, her gaze searching, passionate, hopeful. Owen tried to form a coherent sentence around the new knowledge that was now giving him a tingly sensation all over (or at least it seemed that way).
“I…well…I guess I just hadn’t thought about things that way before.”
“Hadn’t thought!” Margarry stared at Owen for a moment and then, surprisingly (to Owen at least), collapsed backwards into her chair, laughing. Owen wasn’t sure what to say or do…or even if he was supposed to say or do anything…although Margarry’s laughter was infectious and he felt an answering smile tug at his lips.
Eventually Margarry sat up and looked at him again, all sorrow and frustration erased from her features, which were once again the happy and light filled ones he had remembered so fondly during his time at the border.
“I see this confusion is partly my fault. I should have realised that you were too innocent – and too caught up in your glorious dreams of knighthood – to have thought of this and to then act on it. Well then!”
Margarry stood up, her forgotten book falling to the ground, and walked over to Owen with outstretched hands and a smile on her face. Owen gave her a tentative smile in return and shyly took her hands in his.
“If you are too clueless to manage the courting of me, than I shall just have to manage the courting of you!”