Post by opalgirl on Jul 6, 2009 14:36:20 GMT 10
Title: To Court A Princess
Summary: 'He'd known it would happen. Had known it was foolish for him to court a princess. But, somehow, he'd lived with some ridiculous hope that they would be able to just... be.'
Rating: PG
Word Count: 892
Genre: Angst, slight romance.
Author's Notes: Young adult angst ahoy. Alan is a sweetheart. And where's Aly when you need her? In the Isles, of course. Also, features omniscient!Thayet.
"Lia, what's wrong?"
Lianne sat on the bench next to him, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She was dressed in the height of the fashions set by her mother, and the only indication that there was something wrong was the sad smile she wore.
Her full mouth wobbled, but her hazel eyes were steady as she looked at him. "Alan, I'm to be married in a year - Father and the Marenite ambassador have signed the contract."
Alan's heart sank. He'd known it would happen. Had known it was foolish for him to court a princess. But, somehow, he'd lived with some ridiculous hope that they would be able to just... be. That Lianne would no longer be obligated to marry by international politics. The marriages of Roald and Kalasin had given him false hopes.
"Lia," he began, reaching to touch her shoulder and take her hand as he had hundreds of times before, only to have her stop him.
"No. I can't. I'm sorry." She swallowed and blinked. "I'm sorry, Alan. I shouldn't have allowed this to carry on. I knew better than to think... Royalty almost never wed for love - I knew I'd be married off."
"Maybe I could talk to your father?" he said, thinking aloud, and knowing it was ridiculous even as he said it. "I would make an acceptable match - Mother's blood is bluer than almost anyone's and he's my godsfather..."
Lianne shook her head. "Even if you could talk him around, we can't break the contract now. It would be a slight to the Marenites - they've done me an honor by accepting my hand for their Crown Prince, instead of a younger son."
Mithros. How could she talk politics at a time like this? When.... And then he saw her trying - and failing - to blink back tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking rapidly.
"Lia, don't cry. Please?" He offered a handkerchief and put his arm around her, pulling her to close to him, instinctively. "Hush. Don't cry."
After a moment, she quickly wiped her eyes and returned his handkerchief, sniffling. "Now I understand why Roald never courted," she said, quietly. "He knew he'd be married on paper - and he didn't want this to happen."
"I knew it as well as you did," Alan told her, keeping his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault, Lia."
Her hands clenched into fists and her knuckles showed white, as she pressed her lips together. When she'd gotten herself under control, she reached over and pushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, smiling for a moment. That was the skill, smiling at times when you were upset or furious, and Lianne had mastered it.
"I was being foolish," she said, her voice thick with the guilt she felt. "When Kally married, I should have known better. Roald's marriage was arranged for years..."
He couldn't help her. Nothing he could say would make her feel better. Words would be foolish and useless now. Gods, he missed Aly and her charm. His twin would have Lianne laughing in a moment. And Aly would be able to offer advice, which she certainly couldn't do from the Copper Isles.
Instead of saying something ridiculous, he kissed the top of Lianne's head and held her to him.
Lianne drew away, twisting a ring on her finger. Her smile was sad and bittersweet, now. She pulled the ring - a thin silver band, set with a sapphire - off and kissed it. Then she offered it to him - a token of sorts. "Keep it."
It wouldn't fit on his finger, but he'd put it on a chain. For now, he tucked it into his belt-purse and took her hand. "I love you, Lianne."
"When you're hunting bandits and surrounded by eligible ladies, you'll forget about me," she said, the cynical edge to her voice harsh to his ears.
"Never." He promised. "Need I swear it?"
She gazed at him, and then kissed him softly, drawing back once more. "We had best go back inside before someone comes looking for me," she murmured, rising to her feet and shaking out her skirts.
As they re-entered the stuffy ballroom, Lianne gripping his arm tightly, Alan saw Queen Thayet's sympathetic smile. Perhaps the King didn't know, but the Queen did. "Your mother knows," he whispered into Lianne's ear, leaning close to her.
Lianne sighed, impatiently. "Of course she does. It's Mama. She knows everything that goes on."
"Your Highness?" A voice interrupted them. A foreigner, a Marenite by his bright clothes and accent, stood behind them. "And Sir..."
Lianne made some introduction, but the man's name escaped Alan's mind. He didn't matter.
"Princess, if I may," the Marenite said, bowing, "my lady wife would like to make your acquaintance."
Lianne curtsied smoothly, all courtly grace and tact once again. "Certainly, ambassador. Thank you, Sir Alan."
Alan bowed to the princess and the ambassador. "The honor is mine, Your Highness." He kissed Lianne's hand and saw the masked affection in her eyes - and the smile that was just for him.
The man offered his arm and Lia took it - and she only glanced back at him once. She was no longer his - not that she had ever been his to begin with. But she was as good as married now.
Summary: 'He'd known it would happen. Had known it was foolish for him to court a princess. But, somehow, he'd lived with some ridiculous hope that they would be able to just... be.'
Rating: PG
Word Count: 892
Genre: Angst, slight romance.
Author's Notes: Young adult angst ahoy. Alan is a sweetheart. And where's Aly when you need her? In the Isles, of course. Also, features omniscient!Thayet.
****
"Lia, what's wrong?"
Lianne sat on the bench next to him, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She was dressed in the height of the fashions set by her mother, and the only indication that there was something wrong was the sad smile she wore.
Her full mouth wobbled, but her hazel eyes were steady as she looked at him. "Alan, I'm to be married in a year - Father and the Marenite ambassador have signed the contract."
Alan's heart sank. He'd known it would happen. Had known it was foolish for him to court a princess. But, somehow, he'd lived with some ridiculous hope that they would be able to just... be. That Lianne would no longer be obligated to marry by international politics. The marriages of Roald and Kalasin had given him false hopes.
"Lia," he began, reaching to touch her shoulder and take her hand as he had hundreds of times before, only to have her stop him.
"No. I can't. I'm sorry." She swallowed and blinked. "I'm sorry, Alan. I shouldn't have allowed this to carry on. I knew better than to think... Royalty almost never wed for love - I knew I'd be married off."
"Maybe I could talk to your father?" he said, thinking aloud, and knowing it was ridiculous even as he said it. "I would make an acceptable match - Mother's blood is bluer than almost anyone's and he's my godsfather..."
Lianne shook her head. "Even if you could talk him around, we can't break the contract now. It would be a slight to the Marenites - they've done me an honor by accepting my hand for their Crown Prince, instead of a younger son."
Mithros. How could she talk politics at a time like this? When.... And then he saw her trying - and failing - to blink back tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking rapidly.
"Lia, don't cry. Please?" He offered a handkerchief and put his arm around her, pulling her to close to him, instinctively. "Hush. Don't cry."
After a moment, she quickly wiped her eyes and returned his handkerchief, sniffling. "Now I understand why Roald never courted," she said, quietly. "He knew he'd be married on paper - and he didn't want this to happen."
"I knew it as well as you did," Alan told her, keeping his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault, Lia."
Her hands clenched into fists and her knuckles showed white, as she pressed her lips together. When she'd gotten herself under control, she reached over and pushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, smiling for a moment. That was the skill, smiling at times when you were upset or furious, and Lianne had mastered it.
"I was being foolish," she said, her voice thick with the guilt she felt. "When Kally married, I should have known better. Roald's marriage was arranged for years..."
He couldn't help her. Nothing he could say would make her feel better. Words would be foolish and useless now. Gods, he missed Aly and her charm. His twin would have Lianne laughing in a moment. And Aly would be able to offer advice, which she certainly couldn't do from the Copper Isles.
Instead of saying something ridiculous, he kissed the top of Lianne's head and held her to him.
Lianne drew away, twisting a ring on her finger. Her smile was sad and bittersweet, now. She pulled the ring - a thin silver band, set with a sapphire - off and kissed it. Then she offered it to him - a token of sorts. "Keep it."
It wouldn't fit on his finger, but he'd put it on a chain. For now, he tucked it into his belt-purse and took her hand. "I love you, Lianne."
"When you're hunting bandits and surrounded by eligible ladies, you'll forget about me," she said, the cynical edge to her voice harsh to his ears.
"Never." He promised. "Need I swear it?"
She gazed at him, and then kissed him softly, drawing back once more. "We had best go back inside before someone comes looking for me," she murmured, rising to her feet and shaking out her skirts.
As they re-entered the stuffy ballroom, Lianne gripping his arm tightly, Alan saw Queen Thayet's sympathetic smile. Perhaps the King didn't know, but the Queen did. "Your mother knows," he whispered into Lianne's ear, leaning close to her.
Lianne sighed, impatiently. "Of course she does. It's Mama. She knows everything that goes on."
"Your Highness?" A voice interrupted them. A foreigner, a Marenite by his bright clothes and accent, stood behind them. "And Sir..."
Lianne made some introduction, but the man's name escaped Alan's mind. He didn't matter.
"Princess, if I may," the Marenite said, bowing, "my lady wife would like to make your acquaintance."
Lianne curtsied smoothly, all courtly grace and tact once again. "Certainly, ambassador. Thank you, Sir Alan."
Alan bowed to the princess and the ambassador. "The honor is mine, Your Highness." He kissed Lianne's hand and saw the masked affection in her eyes - and the smile that was just for him.
The man offered his arm and Lia took it - and she only glanced back at him once. She was no longer his - not that she had ever been his to begin with. But she was as good as married now.