Beginnings.
Why did I choose to be a Child? A simple reason, one I cannot and shall not dither about or lie, but because I was in love. Ironic, I can just taste the irony. I met her at one of those dreary and tedious social gatherings that was the wont of society. One must endure them, to face, well, even more of them.
"One must act proper in all situations, no matter when and where." droned my teacher as the carriage pulled up the entrance, bells jingling, hooves clopping. Out the double-wide doors, drifted the music, and I groaned. "Please, no, let me go home, anything." I begged as polite as I could. A rap of the knuckles, a stern glare, and one long-winded introduction to the gathered masses, and I was in my own personal torture chamber.
This music was the current fashion, against all reason. Since when has fashion ever followed reason? The composer of said music was a shrivelled, unpleasant man, of a greasy countenance. Somehow he had favour of the local governing House, and the rumours that flew about this man... no matter, these details do not pertain to this recount. Needless to say I was very nearly in pain.
Surrounded by false and chittering women, and carefully neautral faced men, I counted every clock tick till the interminable evening ended. That was, until the dance rotation had me dancing with her. She breathed in my ear at one moment, her husky voice seductive and alluring, "Is this music as torturous to you as it is to I?"
It was such a singularly frank comment, I very nearly stopped in my tracks and brought the whole dance floor to halt with my stumbling steps. I say very nearly, for she saved me from complete social embarassment. She jerked me along, forced me to move my feet in the neccesary and intricate steps with her words. All that time, she giggled softly, her humour at the situation honest.
Honesty, such a trait that we are not known for. Not our race. And yet she was. As the dnace finished, she whispered again in my ear, "Want to go somewhere else to talk?"
Speechless, I nodded my assent, and we swiftly ducked out of sight of our chaperones, those eagles of disclipline. In a nearby garden, we spoke. It was... she was frank and honest, and in turn so was I. I remember her gales of laughter buffeting my soul and my heart.
Then, I noticed the one, or so it seemed, critical flaw. She was a Child, as stated by her golden coin, and I only noticed this as we stole back to the dreary social function. My heart was torn in two, half in my stomach and half in my throat.
She was a Child of Elbahn, those reputed to steal hearts with nary a care. I didn't want to be just another toy for her, to be a thing used, then discarded. It was then that I res...
Son a dragon's whore! Caernwhyn-radu calls, it seems he hears an enemy House sneaking through the gardens outside. We don't even have any gardens...
"One must act proper in all situations, no matter when and where." droned my teacher as the carriage pulled up the entrance, bells jingling, hooves clopping. Out the double-wide doors, drifted the music, and I groaned. "Please, no, let me go home, anything." I begged as polite as I could. A rap of the knuckles, a stern glare, and one long-winded introduction to the gathered masses, and I was in my own personal torture chamber.
This music was the current fashion, against all reason. Since when has fashion ever followed reason? The composer of said music was a shrivelled, unpleasant man, of a greasy countenance. Somehow he had favour of the local governing House, and the rumours that flew about this man... no matter, these details do not pertain to this recount. Needless to say I was very nearly in pain.
Surrounded by false and chittering women, and carefully neautral faced men, I counted every clock tick till the interminable evening ended. That was, until the dance rotation had me dancing with her. She breathed in my ear at one moment, her husky voice seductive and alluring, "Is this music as torturous to you as it is to I?"
It was such a singularly frank comment, I very nearly stopped in my tracks and brought the whole dance floor to halt with my stumbling steps. I say very nearly, for she saved me from complete social embarassment. She jerked me along, forced me to move my feet in the neccesary and intricate steps with her words. All that time, she giggled softly, her humour at the situation honest.
Honesty, such a trait that we are not known for. Not our race. And yet she was. As the dnace finished, she whispered again in my ear, "Want to go somewhere else to talk?"
Speechless, I nodded my assent, and we swiftly ducked out of sight of our chaperones, those eagles of disclipline. In a nearby garden, we spoke. It was... she was frank and honest, and in turn so was I. I remember her gales of laughter buffeting my soul and my heart.
Then, I noticed the one, or so it seemed, critical flaw. She was a Child, as stated by her golden coin, and I only noticed this as we stole back to the dreary social function. My heart was torn in two, half in my stomach and half in my throat.
She was a Child of Elbahn, those reputed to steal hearts with nary a care. I didn't want to be just another toy for her, to be a thing used, then discarded. It was then that I res...
Son a dragon's whore! Caernwhyn-radu calls, it seems he hears an enemy House sneaking through the gardens outside. We don't even have any gardens...
posted by Zeroth at 9:14 AM
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